Chapter 3

John exited the bookshop and stood in the middle of the footpath, not caring if he was standing in anyone's way. He pulled out a small spiral notepad from his pocket.

"Let's see," he said as he consulted his list. "Stock up on beer, check. Mailed wedding invitations, check. Ogle newly released book in bookshop..."

John pulled out the pen from the spiral spine of the notepad and drew two ticks next to the third item.

"Double check," he said, slipped the pen back into place, and read out the fourth item: "Kill mutant-hating scumbag."

John pushed the notepad back into his pocket and then hailed a taxi which he took to just a block short of the newspaper offices. He then located the staff car park and waited just outside where the cameras wouldn't see him. He pulled out a mobile phone Mastermind had stolen earlier and dialled the number for the newspaper office. When his call was answered, he said the lights on one of the cars had been left on, and rattled off a particular number plate. The receptionist thanked him, and they hung up.

Just when John was beginning to think that the mutant-hating journalist didn't actually care if his car battery ran down, he showed up. John stretched out his hand and a flame appeared in it from the slimline flame thrower under his clothes. He watched as the journalist opened up the gate to the staff car park and headed towards his vehicle. John threw the flame in his hand at the car just as the journalist reached it, and the car immediately caught on fire. John ensured that the flames grabbed the journalist as well. He also lit the stolen mobile phone on fire and threw that over the fence into the car park.

Once John was satisfied that the journalist would no longer be writing articles inciting hatred against mutants, he walked off. As he casually made his way down the street to the nearest taxi stand, he pulled out his notepad and checked off the fourth item.

"Kill mutant-hating scumbag, check," he said with satisfaction. "Meet Wanda at bridal shop. Damn."

Nevertheless, John got in the taxi and gave him the address for the bridal store. He soon arrived and entered to find Wanda and Mastermind in heavy discussion with the sales assistant.

"Hey," John said.

"Hi honey," Wanda said, giving him a smile as he entered. "How'd it go? You get everything done?"

"Yup," John replied, sounding well pleased. "Everything's just peachy. Also, my new book looks awesome on the shelf."

"They always do," Wanda said. "We're just finishing up, actually."

"Oh good," he said, and he sat down on a nearby chair to wait while the women finished up.

A few minutes later—sooner than John had expected—they left the bridal shop and headed out to the car. Mastermind raised her eyebrow when she took in the number of cases of beer in the backseat.

"Buy enough beer?" she asked John scornfully.

"Hmm, now that you mention it," John said, looking the cases over, "no."

Mastermind slid her leg into the passenger seat and looked at Wanda. "You're marrying an alcoholic, you realise that, right?"

"He's not an alcoholic," Wanda said the same time John replied with: "What's your point?"

Mastermind smirked and sat down in the car. Wanda and John followed suit.

"Pyro knows when to stop," Wanda said firmly as she put the keys into the ignition. "He's not a completely irresponsible drinker."

"Thank you, my little firebug," John said.

"And besides, if he was, I'd cure him of it."

"Oooh ominous."

"Sure you will," Mastermind replied snidely. "That's what they all say."

"Well, it's irrelevant anyway, since Wandy just said I'm not an irresponsible drinker. And because I intend to stay that way, there's no reason for her to act," John said cheerfully.

"So there," Wanda added.

Mastermind rolled her eyes.

"By they way, honey," Wanda said, glancing at John briefly in the rear view mirror as she drove, "how'd everything go with the journalist?"

"Great," John replied. "One less mutant-hating douche bag to plot against us."

"It's a shame we couldn't track down the ones responsible for the actual murder," Wanda said, still a little annoyed about that, but even more annoyed that there had been more murders.

"Yeah, but these journos are just as guilty," John said with a nod. "They might not pull the trigger, but they do put ideas in people's heads. I should know."

"I'm surprised you know anything," Mastermind said.

Bobby pulled up a chair and sat down next to Kitty at the teacher's desk in the computer lab. His proximity immediately made Kitty feel very uncomfortable.

"Hey," she said awkwardly.

"Hi," Bobby replied, seemingly oblivious to Kitty's discomfort as he leaned over. "Did you get the email I sent you?"

"Yeah, I haven't gotten around to reading it yet," Kitty said, trying to focus on her work. Class projects didn't mark themselves.

"Okay, well, when you get chance, lemme know what you think," Bobby said. "I figured you were busy, so I thought I might poke around on the 'net and see if I could find any anti-mutant sites where they might brag about their, umm, conquests."

Kitty paused and turned her head to regard Bobby. "You found something?"

"Oh yeah," Bobby said with a nod. "They call themselves the Friends of Humanity. Officially, they just write and link articles about the latest mutant developments. They just love the Brotherhood, by the way, and by 'love' I mean 'loathe, hate, and utterly despise'. Buuut... it also comes with a forum. Most of the users appear to be anonymous and there's a bit of bragging going on."

"Really?" Kitty asked curiously, taking the moment to open up her mail and find Bobby's message with the link. "That surprises me, although, I guess it probably shouldn't. I mean, some people really do think that they're really anonymous on the internet."

"Have you ever tracked someone down?" Bobby asked.

"Nope, but then I've never felt the need to," Kitty replied with a shrug.

She opened up the email, clicked the link, and the Friends of Humanity page appeared on the screen.

"As you can see, the page is pretty straight forward," Bobby said. "Articles here, forums there. You should note that nothing the admin does or says is actually inciting anyone to do anything but..."

"But?" Kitty prompted.

"Well, it might just be me being paranoid or something," Bobby said cautiously. "But I can't help but feel while I'm in the forums that someone is doing some recruiting. I mean, if you read it plainly it just looks like they're encouraging people to keep up the violence, but... yeah, I don't know..."

Kitty nodded. "Okay, great. Thanks for bringing this to my attention. I will add it to my list of things to look into."

"Heh, sorry about adding to your workload," Bobby said bashfully, running his hand through his short blond hair.

"Nah it's okay," Kitty replied with a shrug. "Although... you could make it easier for me."

"Sure, how?"

"Why don't you go through the forums or whatever, and pick up whatever you think is important. In the meantime, I'll find out who's hosting it and who owns the site."

Bobby nodded.

"Okay, I can do that," Bobby said, and then paused, perhaps only then realising just how close he was to Kitty. He licked his bottom lip.

"Great," Kitty said, looking back at him in the eyes.

Bobby cleared his throat. "So, uhh... I guess I'll let you get back to work."

"Yeah," Kitty said, grateful that he was going. "I'll umm, I'll talk to you later then."

"Yeah."

There was a pause, and finally Bobby forced himself to get up and walk away. He was so frustrated with himself; he had been about to kiss her and he couldn't deny it. Worse, he suspected Kitty would have kissed him back.

Bobby rubbed his forehead as he left the computer room. He was not going to do this again. He was not going to do to Piotr what he did to Rogue. The last time he and Kitty had sex was the day Rogue left, and Bobby hadn't actually even wanted to pursue Kitty since. Piotr aside, he didn't even want to pursue her now. But for some reason every time he was in close proximity to her he just wanted to take her into his arms. He could only imagine that this might be what it was like for an ex-smoker getting a whiff of someone else's cigarette smoke, although he mentally berated himself about comparing Kitty to cigarettes.

Some weeks later, Logan was just minding his own business, heading into town for some beer and some company, when something—or rather, someone—literally tackled him and his motorcycle off the road. He caught the whiff of a familiar scent just before he hit the ground. His motorcycle spun and toppled over in a spectacular fashion. The landing hurt, but Logan could already feel his wounds healing up as he stood to his feet.

His assailant gave him no time to think and attacked him again. Logan felt ten sharp, short claws sink into his skin. Logan's own long, adamantium claws extended. For those first few moments there was nothing but claws and blood and instinctive battle, then they rolled apart and Logan finally got a good look at his assailant. The appearance didn't meet the scent.

"About time you got a hair cut, Sabretooth," Logan said in a growl.

Logan hadn't seen Sabretooth in years, not since he had fallen off the Statue of Liberty. Then, Sabretooth had long, blond hair with over-grown eyebrows. Now he had short, black hair and normal-looking eyebrows. His claws were just as sharp as ever.

"What are you talking about, runt?" Victor replied. "I've have the same hair cut for years."

They clashed again; sweat, teeth, and claws. Wounds healed almost as soon as they were made, which confused Logan a little when he first noticed; he couldn't remember Sabretooth having a good healing factor.

"Getting a little slow, aren't you?" Victor taunted him. "I think living at that school's made you soft."

Logan didn't reply, he just didn't feel the need to.

Onwards the fight went, spilling blood onto the ground, hair, prices of skin and flesh flying everywhere, both men growling like dogs at each other. Eventually, Logan pinned Victor onto the ground and pointed his claws at Victor's neck.

"Any last works before we find out if you can heal from having your throat slashed?" Logan asked.

Victor grinned wickedly at him.

"Happy birthday, Jimmy," he said.

To say those words were the last ones Logan expected to hear come out of Sabretooth's mouth would be putting it mildly. He was so surprised, in fact, that he loosened his grip for but a second—all the time Victor needed to get out of that position and take off. Logan scratched his head, and then mentally berated himself for letting him get past him like that. Then he took in his bloodied clothes, and the state of his motorcycle, and reluctantly started back for the school.

Logan would have loved to have slipped back into the mansion unnoticed. Unfortunately, Storm was in the garden and heard his return on the winds before he'd even come into smelling range of her.

"Logan," Storm exclaimed as she floated down next to him outside the garage door. "What in the world happened to you?"

Logan grunted as he got off the mess that was his motorcycle. He was reluctant to respond, but knew he had no choice.

"Sabretooth," he said as he busied himself opening up the garage and half riding, half dragging his motorcycle inside. "Ambushed me about half an hour outside of the school. We fought. He took off."

Storm looked skeptical.

"That's it?" she asked.

"Pretty much," Logan replied.

Storm frowned as Logan moved his motorcycle off to the side. "Pretty much?"

Logan shrugged. "I don't know what else to tell you, 'Ro. He ambushed me, we fought, he took off."

"Do you have any idea why?"

"He wanted to wish me a happy birthday."

"Be serious, Logan," Storm said.

"Actually, I am," Logan replied, finally looking at her rather than his motorcycle. "I had him pinned, and he wished me a happy birthday."

Storm regarded Logan for a long moment, and decided he wasn't pulling her leg after all.

"When is your birthday?" she asked.

"How the hell should I know?" Logan asked, and tapped his head. "Lost my memory years ago, remember?"

"Right, of course," Storm replied.

"He was probably just saying that just to distract me anyhow," Logan went on with a shrug. "How would Sabretooth know when my birthday is?"

Storm nodded. "I will clear the way to the bedroom so you can get there and clean up without anyone seeing all the blood. I wouldn't want to upset the students."

"Right."

"I'll also let the X-men know so they will be on the alert.

"Good idea." Logan said, then added as an afterthought: "And for the benefit of yourself, and everyone else who doesn't have a keen sense of smell, he's changed his looks."

"Oh?"

"Short, black hair and normal eyebrows," Logan said, then smirked. "He looks almost human."

Storm nodded once more. "I shall let them know."

"Maybe it's a red herring," Sam said the next day when the X-men gathered for their emergency session in the War Room.

"How do you figure?" asked Tabitha.

"Well, it's like this," Sam said, "Sabretooth works for Magneto, right? And Magneto does a lot of things, but he's never actually hurt us."

"Tell that to Rogue," Logan said.

"Umm, pass," Sam said, and hurried on. "My point is that Magneto's never actually attacked the school. And of all the people that Sabretooth chose to attack, he chose the one with the healing factor. I think he wants to distract us from... whatever it is that he's planning."

"It actually makes sense," Kitty said. "Magneto—and the Brotherhood—have even helped us before. They must think that we would interfere with what they're doing."

"Which we probably would," Bobby said cheerfully.

Storm breathed in and out slowly.

"Well," she said, "it's as good a theory as any. And if we're right, then it's going to work just fine; the safety of our students is our first priority. Also, I think we should go through our security system and make sure that everything is in good working order. I don't believe we should assume that Sabretooth means us no harm; he could hurt—kill—a lot of people here in a short amount of time if we can't stop him from getting past the front door."

"By the way, Wolverino," Jubilee said, looking a him curiously. "Just when is your birthday?"

"How would I know?" Logan asked, somewhat irritated at being asked the exact same question in less than twenty-four hours. "I don't even remember what year I was born, let alone the date."

"That's so sad," Jubilee said, and then continued on merrily: "We should throw you a birthday party sometime!"

"I don't think so, kid."

"Oh come on, it'll be fun!"

"I really don't think so."

"But... but..."

"Shh," Bobby said, grinning wildly at Jubilee. "Just agree with him, then we can throw him a surprise party."

Logan growled as Jubilee giggled.

"Don't you even think about it," Logan said to Bobby.

"Too late," Bobby said to Logan with a big, cheesy grin on his face. "Already thought of it."

"Bobby," Storm said, cutting in before anyone could get cut, "Kitty tells me you were the one who found the Friends of Humanity website?"

"Yeah," Bobby said, nodding. "I'm still looking into it. At one point I thought we might be able to use it to find mutants—or at least the ones in immediate trouble—but most of them comment only after they've...y'know...and the few that don't only make vague statements, nothing that could lead us to the mutant."

"Do you still think there's some recruiting going on?" Kitty asked.

"Yeah," Bobby said, "and I figured out why too; conversations keep getting cut off. Okay, I realise that it's the internet and that there are plenty of reasons why a conversation in a forum might come to an abrupt end, but it happens consistently with the same kind of posts."

"Like they've been contacted privately?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Bobby said. "Plus—and I can't say conclusively yet—but there seems to be a pattern. Like the original poster seems to be admitting to their third or fourth crime, and I can usually verify one of those as real, because it's been in the paper, or whatever."

"If they are recruiting," Jubilee said, "it might be useful to have someone on the inside."

"I agree," said Kitty with a nod at Jubilee, and then she looked at Bobby, "I should be able to create an identity for you that won't be easily traced—or at the very least, won't be easily traced to the school."

"No," Storm said firmly. "If we're going to do that, then I want it to happen off school grounds. Should the worst happen, I don't want the wrong people realising that this is more than a school. We've already had two invasions. We don't know exactly what kind of recruiting is going on here—or for what."

"Or if I'm just being paranoid," Bobby said, looking nervous.

"Bobby..." Storm began and Bobby threw up his hands.

"I don't know, okay?" he insisted. "Gimme a break, already! There's a bunch of people out there who really, really, really hate mutants, and get actual pleasure out of beating and killing us. It makes me sick just reading these forums. They had better not be banding together."

"Well, maybe a second pair of eyes might see something," Sam said. "If you send me the link, I'd be willing to check it out too."

Bobby nodded. "Okay."

"It will take time to make proper preparations anyway," said Storm. "Fortunately, the school year is almost over, so we can use that time to put things in place."

"Why go to so much effort?" Tabitha asked. "It's just an internet community."

"One that acts in real life," Sam pointed out. "We don't know how serious they are."

"I guess."