Author's Note: Fight scene coming up. I apologise in advance :P

Scene Twelve

When Mac pulled up the Avalanche next to the X-Men's Jeep and bikes, they were deserted. Stood in the shadow of an old factory; the setting was cold and aloof to what was about to go down here. Forethought and years of military and police training meant that he was already dressed in his body armour, his silver cross crushed between it and his chest. As he climbed out of the car, Mac checked his weapon, and the spare that he had strapped to his ankle. He pushed the door closed quietly; then moved in the shadow of the X-Men themselves. He pressed his back against the wall next to the entrance to the warehouse, his Glock raised and ready. He could hear the sounds of battle inside the warehouse, grunts and cries and the sudden crashing of barrels and other equipment. Mac gritted his teeth and peered inside.

Fires were burning throughout the space, flames licking at the floors and walls. Smoke hung about the room in a thick cloud. As he watched, a gentle wind, not much more that a summer's breeze, drifted through the warehouse and Mac was shocked to see Storm revealed – Mac learnt their names and abilities much later – floating above the battles going on below. Storm's arms were raised, her white hair being ruffled by the breeze she was creating, her eyes rolled back in her skull as rains began to control the fires as Wolverine barrelled unintentionally into the disgruntled, blonde and greasy haired teenager known as Pyro who had been creating the fires.

Wolverine, having knocked Pyro to the floor hard enough for the young mutant to hit his head and spread-eagle on his back, shook his head to clear it and threw himself back into a personal battle with his arch-nemesis. Both beasts of men, Wolverine was shorter, squatter and with three metal claws reflecting the dull lighting, the other taller and broad, with longer hair and snarling his aggression for all he was worth. As Mac watched, the mutant known as Sabretooth stabbed Wolverine in the chest with one hand and the second swept round to catch him in the neck. Wolverine roared his discontent, staggering backwards and away from Sabretooth, leaving a trailed of blood between the two. Just when Mac thought that fight was over, Wolverine's wounds healed before his eyes and the X-Man leapt for his nemesis again. The two of them rolled away, growling and roaring at each other.

Cyclops, his hand fixed against the trigger on his red-tinted lens, was firing short laser bursts around the upper walls, chasing Toad; who was leaping from point to point and spitting toxic venom at Jean, who was flicking the globs away with her telekinesis and trying to help Storm contain the fires at the same time.

Mac frowned... in all the chaos, he couldn't see Ilehana anywhere. Where was she? He knew that she was concerned about him staying clear of this fight, and the longer Mac watched, the more he understood why. Because suddenly, Wolverine was pinned to nothing, arms and legs splayed and the feral mutant was drawn towards Magneto – it could only be Magneto, dressed in maroon red with a helmet sitting royally upon his head...

"We meet again, Wolverine." Magneto intoned, smiling evilly at the feral mutant, his voice deep and resonant.

Mac had snuck around the edge of the room, his eyes always on the fight but trying to get to the corridor without being noticed. It was hard for the Detective to ignore someone in peril, but as a red laser beam startled Magneto as it shot past him, narrowly missing him, Wolverine managed to move a couple of inches. Sidling through the doorway, Mac was starting to understand that Vixen had been right on two accounts – that Magneto and his men were dangerous; too dangerous for normal humans to handle – his weapons, silver cross, zips... so many things would be turned into lethal weapons - and also that the X-Men could handle themselves. He found himself wishing that he too had a special power, a gift; something that could make him stronger than he was at that moment.

Mac moved through what must have been the administration area of the warehouse slowly and with caution. It seemed deserted. He could hear nothing of the main battle now, with the exception of the occasional faint cry. After stopping to check it's safety, Mac turned a corner and came face-to-face with Vixen.

"You!" She cried, surprised. "What do you think you're doing!"

"I..."

"You shouldn't be here!"She grabbed his arm, gripping hard enough to hurt, dragging him further down the corridor. She opened a door with a key and pushed him inside. Mac staggered under the force, then made to turn back to argue with Vixen, confused. He staggered again, clutching his ears uselessly as a mind voice boomed inside his skull.

Mystique! A giant white Bengal Tiger shunted into Vixen, knocking her to the ground. A swipe of a huge paw left her unconscious, at which point Mystique lost her Vixen facade and became her normal, blue-skinned self. The Tiger snorted in disgust and the turned her glare on Mac.

Mac shuddered beneath her gaze, sensing her anger without the need of her telepathy. Then, suddenly, it was gone. She came forward, her movement's eerily silent for such a large creature, and she butted him gently with her massive head. You're a fool. She laughed, Mac could hear it in her mind voice, and see it in the way she hung her pink tongue out as she looked at him. But an honourable fool.

"Thanks." Mac rested a hand on her head for a brief moment, feeling the short, coarse fur beneath his fingers.

Let's go find my friend. Vixen suggested, shaking herself lightly and stepping out of the room and over Mystique's prone body. Mac followed, feeling a stab of pity for the woman at his feet. He paused, and bent to remove the bunch of keys she had used to open the door. Vixen paused and looked back at the jangling keys. She nodded her approval. Good thinking. Let's go.