Author's Note: It's been really hard to write the last few chapters of this story; you may have noticed that I copped out with the majority of the battle scenes... I'm really bad at writing battle scenes and they are what always stump me. So I'm glad it's almost done

Scene Fourteen

If she hadn't been in contact with him, Vixen might have missed the horror that ran through Mac's mind. He knew that he was facing Mystique, but part of him couldn't quite believe it. He backed away from her... himself... slowly, but she... he... followed him. Mac confusion was spilling over so much that Vixen wasn't sure who was who. She struggled to get out of Wolverine's arms, he wanted to keep her close even as she tried to explain and in the end he dropped her as she started to morph in his arms. She landed on wolf paws, choosing the form most natural to her to pack the process more simple. The white wolf, with blonde highlights dotted across her chest and muzzle growled at Logan as he tried to get in the way.

"You're hurt!"

She'll kill him. Vixen snapped, darting around Wolverine and dashing inside, her voice echoing in Wolverine's mind. It's my fault he's here, he saved my life, I owe him!

"Which means we all owe him." Wolverine growled at the rest of the team. "Storm, Jean, Beast stay out here, let's go Cyc." He knew that Storm was still hurting, and Jean was the best person to treat her, and Beast wasn't in great shape. Cyclops followed Wolverine and their leader back inside, the building.

The white wolf that was Vixen was stood staring at two Mac's, one stood over the other bearing his Glock, the second shuffling backwards. She seemed confused as she looked from one to the other. The first Mac glanced nervously in her direction. "I've got her covered Vixen, don't worry."

I'm not worried Mac. She sent the thought into the room in general, picking no-one out individually. Its fine; you can lower the weapon Mac. She can't hurt you, we've got her covered.

Vixen glanced at the Mac on the floor, and let her muzzle twist into a snarl. His blue eyes glazed with fear, the skin of his face paled. He started to stutter something, but the Mac holding the gun twitched it and growled at him to be quiet. The second Mac fell silent immediately. Vixen raised her muzzle. Lower the gun, Mac. She intoned softly. Please, trust me, lower the gun. She sent a couple of instructions to Wolverine and Cyclops privately, then bunched herself and pounced.

She landed between the two Mac's, snarling into the barrel of the gun that was now pointed at her. A second later, Cyclops let loose a laser beam that flicked the gun from Mac's hands. The Glock went off as Wolverine launched himself at Mystique-Mac, his whole body pinning her to the floor. Mac – the real Mac – cried out inadvertently as the bullet grazed his arm. Cyclops went to him, as Vixen took hold of Mystique telepathically, forcing her to reassume her own skin. Mystique's yellow eyes burned angrily as Vixen forced her to attend to her fallen team-mates.

Cyclops tore the sleeve away from Mac's injured arm, bunched it into a pad and pressed it against the graze in Mac's arm. The CSI winced, but accepted Cyclops' hand up. Vixen glanced at Mac as he stood, sent him a telepathic query. Mac smiled and nodded, indicating that he would be alright. He was more concerned about her. She winced in appreciation having half-forgotten about her own injuries, and jerked her head towards the door. The team left the warehouse, Vixen's telepathic suggestion strong enough to leave Mystique tending to Magneto, Pyro and eventually Sabretooth.

Cyclops and Wolverine rode the bikes home, Jean drove Mac's Avalanche and Beast drove the Jeep with Storm in the passenger seat. There was a minor scuffle when Wolverine insisted on riding with Vixen. In the end, she tiredly ordered him to ride his own bike back to the mansion as she jumped into the back of the jeep and curled up nose-to-tail. Jean sneakily lifted Mac's keys from his pocket using her telepathy and set off in his Avalanche before he knew what was happening. He shrugged to himself; he was in too much pain and too late to argue. He climbed into the seat next to Vixen, causing Wolverine to scowl and ride off on his bike. Vixen sighed, used to Wolverine's jealous behaviour as Cyclops trailed after him. They were on their way back as Mac asked a question that had been burning since the moment that Vixen had leapt in to defend him.

"How did you know it was me? Or her?" He was still somewhat confused.

Two things. He – she - didn't smell quite like you, but what clinched it... Vixen didn't move her head. She sounded exhausted, but there was a fondness to her tone that surprised him. You've always called me Ilehana. She called me Vixen.