Part 1

She swung the heavy oak door open, grimacing slightly at the stale bar smell of old beer and cheap cigarettes. The place was about what she expected, full of out-of-town salesmen bored with their wives and young women bored with their lives. She briefly considered turning around and going to that new club she'd heard Tabitha and Rictor discussing earlier, but quickly decided that she spent more than enough time around over exuberant kids. She just wanted a drink and some time away from the mansion. She'd had tickets to a Vivaldi concerto tonight, and had asked Nate to come with her, but he had 'plans'. Since she didn't feel like going alone, she'd given the tickets to Warren and Betsy.

She snorted... He hadn't even have the guts to come out and tell her what he really was doing that night, although she had already known. He and Storm were going to see a highly touted performance artist that Ororo had heard about. She grinned wickedly, knowing that Nathan absolutely detested the type of pretension that she knew that particular artist symbolized. She'd seen him before, years ago, and hadn't been much impressed. She preferred the classics, as she knew Nathan did, but privately thought it justice that he'd have to sit through the 'performance'. Snapping out of her reverie, she noticed a small empty table in the back of the bar, and walked to it. Just as she pulled a chair back, she felt a light brush on her shoulder. Immediately dropping into a defensive position, she whirled around, hand flying to the pistol she kept with her at all times.

"Hey! Nina! No need for that!" The tall man in front of her grinned, one hand holding a glass, the other held palm opened, convincing her of his intentions.

Her eyes flew open in shock. "John?"

"Yep...Never thought I'd see you again...It's been some time, hasn't it?" Though his warm brown eyes were now lined with delicate wrinkles and his raven hair had become salt-and-pepper, she immediately recognized him. She'd worked with him so many years ago, when working an op in Guatemala, posing as a graduate student doing fieldwork. He'd been an Ivy League professor doing field research, and they'd turned an impromptu friendship into something a little more entertaining for a while. She smiled briefly, thinking of those days with the Wild Pack, thinking of how young they'd all been, before returning her attention to the present. She smiled a small, genuine smile "Yes, it has. Care to join me? We can catch up..."

They both sat, and after an initial period of awkwardness, they began to enjoy the other's company. An hour or so passed, and she felt considerably more relaxed by the scotch she'd been sipping. She narrowed her eyes. John was speaking animatedly about a project he was working on, and the topic, which had absolutely nothing to do with deteriorating mutant-human relations, time travel, prophecies or killing people, was actually fascinating. He sat his glass down and looked at her "I'm sorry, I've been rambling. It's just so good to see you again..." His hand gently touched hers.

"What were the chances of us ever seeing each other again, especially like this, such a chance meeting in such an unexpected place?"

She smiled, thinking of her ability to inadvertently have things 'fall into place'. "Oh, I don't know...we're just lucky, I guess..." He smiled, eyes crinkling in that way she remembered so well, and she was suddenly very glad that Nathan hadn't come with her after all.


Part 2

She had managed to get excellent seats, so although the theater was packed they had a clear view of the stage. He really wished that she hadn't gone to all the effort. He could sense the people behind him craning to get a better view, and he sighed, desperately wished he could oblige them by leaving. He looked hopefully at the woman beside him, thinking she would be as disgusted as he, but she clearly was enraptured with the performance. He sighed again and settled deeper into his seat, trying to get comfortable, but to no avail. To top it all off, the seats clearly weren't designed for a man of his size. 'I bet Dom's having a better night that I am,' he thought enviously, picturing himself blissfully absorbing the New York Philharmonic's Evening of Vivaldi instead of this mockery.

Ororo turned to him "Is this not a marvellous performance, Nathan?" She smiled at him, and he suddenly remembered why he had consented to come tonight. She truly was lovely, and he did enjoy her company. She turned her attention back to the stage, and he breathed a small sigh of relief. He didn't want her to know how terribly bored he was. He stared blankly at the stage, and waited for the night to end.

A thunderous noise filled the air, and he jumped slightly, startled. He looked up, and the entire audience was standing, applauding. Ororo frowned at him slightly, and he guiltily stood up and joined with half-hearted applause. 'Some battle reflexes you have, Nate,' he thought wryly 'At least this means we're going home'.

Two and a half hours later, after attending a reception honoring the artist, mingling with people he had nothing in common with, eating tiny, pretentious foods and drinking bad wine, he actually got home. He said goodnight as quickly as he could without seeming rude, and went upstairs to bed, massaging his temples as he walked. His head was pounding, and all he could think of was the blessed escape of sleep. When he got to his room, he quickly stripped his suit off and grabbed a comfortable pair of workout shorts, then crawled into the bed, sighing in relief as he slid into the quiet covers.

An hour later he wasn't so comfortable. He couldn't go to sleep, blasted insomnia flaring up again. As tired as he was, he couldn't rest. He sat up. 'Might as well do something...this isn't very fruitful....' He climbed out of the covers and levitated above the bed, turning upside down and began to meditate. Slowly, the tension receded and he felt himself begin to relax. After a quick scan of the grounds to verify the seeming quiet of the night, he lowered his psionic shields and allowed his mind to rest as free as it could without releasing the technological disease that ran through his body. He breathed out slowly, at peace for the first time that evening.

Suddenly, without warning, he felt a violet jolt of sensation flare through his mind and body, leaving him shocked and breathless. He plummeted to the bed, all concentration lost, and grasped the sheets, trying to regain control of his body. He gave up, writhing on the bed, lost in the intense waves of pleasure that washed over his body.

Then, just as suddenly as the sensation began, it ended. Nathan lay spent, still gasping for air. He glanced down at himself, disgusted. After putting himself back together, both literally and figuratively, he examined himself to find traces of the attack. The searing violet wasn't completely gone, but had changed back into the familiar lavender tendril still humming contentedly in his mind. His eyes opened wide. The small purple glow emanated from the psi-link he shared with his partner, his best friend, his..."Domino," he whispered weakly, then lay back into the covers, exhausted.


Part 3

She opened her eyes blearily, squinting against the cruel beam of sunlight adamantly attacking her slumber. "Go away," she muttered, rolling over and burrowing deeper into the covers. She lay on her side, curled tightly in a ball, but even through her sleep-dulled senses she heard a soft snore. 'John,' she thought, allowing herself a private smile before she sat up, pulling the sheets over her. 'Ohhhhhhhhh......whatta headache.....,' a legacy of the scotch, she knew. She glanced down at the other result of the previous evening, and closed her eyes. She sighed, then opened one eyelid to search for the alarm clock. '8:17. I gotta get up,' she thought, 'we've got a session scheduled this morning.'

John rolled over, snuffling into the pillow "G'mornin'. Whadda ya want to do today?" His eyes were barely opened, but she could see the hint of brown between the thick black lashes.

She shook her head sadly. "I have to go to work."

He sat up and stretched languorously. "Nina, please. I haven't seen you in ten years. You go to work everyday. C'mon, take the day off. Do something with me."

She couldn't help smiling, then groaned as a particularly harsh wave of pain spread through her temple. "Like what? Get smashed again? No thanks, the dog that bit me can keep every hair on his nasty little hide."

His voice was earnest. "I'm serious. One day away from work won't kill you. By the way," his voice sounded a bit sheepish, "Tell me again what it is you do now? I'm afraid I forgot..." Actually, she hadn't told him, preferring to steer the conversation towards more innocuous topics.

She chose her words carefully. "I'm a consultant for a private educational institute, where I do some teaching." This was true. She did some part-time teaching for the kids in Generation X, all the qualified adult X-Men did. After all, she did have a PhD in Political Science, obtained partially while undercover for the every operation where she'd met John. She'd finished her degree while Nathan was in law school at Harvard and Hammer at MIT, the three of them somehow managing to coordinate their schedules with the rest of the Wild Pack to work to pay for it all. Other than the occasional lecture, she'd never used her degree for other than research into prospective ops, but it was nice to have. As much as she loved weapons and combat, she knew that there was more to her profession than mere brute force.

He nodded. She remembered that he'd told her last night that he had retired from teaching, earning quite a nice living from his investments. Nothing compared to her portfolio, she was sure, but enough to live comfortably. She had made several incredibly 'fortunate' investments with the monies she'd earned from her mercenary years (not to mention from the occasional night spent playing the long odds at casinos). Once, she'd even played the lottery as an experiment and won the second largest jackpot in the history of the unfortunate state she happened to be visiting. The ability to have things 'fall into place' turned out to be a lot more economically viable than most mutant powers and had allowed her the financial freedom to stay with Nathan and X-Force.

She yawned. "I don't know. . .I hate missing, but," She recalled the look on Cable's face when he'd refused her invitation yesterday. "Alright. I'm already late, anyway. You have to promise me something, though..."

"Hmmmm?" He leaned towards her, grinning widely.

"You've got to make it worth my while."

He smiled and ran his hand through her hair, delicately fingering a raven lock. He kissed her gently, and she wondered again at the novelty of being treated as a woman and not a soldier. Though she decided she'd grow bored eventually, she couldn't deny its more obvious charms.

She rose from the bed, raising an eyebrow at his appreciative stare, and bent down to pick up her clothes. Apparently they'd had as rough an evening than she- she counted two tears on the neckline of the tight blouse and a huge brown stain on the leg of the form-fitting pants. He laughed at her expression as she slipped them on and raised his arms behind his head, eyes never straying from her as he watched her cross the room to the phone.

She dialled the number quickly, meeting his stare. The phone rang four times before she heard a sleepy "Hello?"

"Terry...it's Domino."

Theresa answered automatically "I know we have a session this mornin', ye don' have to call and wake me up, I'm gettin' up, I am..."

"Terry. . .listen. . .I need you to do me a favor. I'm not coming in today, so go ahead and start without me."

The voice, suddenly alert, came through the line in a thick Irish brogue heavy with concern. "Dom...are ye alright?"

She understood the layers of the question. "I'm fine, no problems, I just," she smiled at John, who was struggling into a pair of boxers "ran into an old friend last night."

At the mansion, Theresa exhaled. Domino was never late, and never took any time for herself. Her trip to Brazil last month was the first time she'd taken a vacation in the four years she'd known her. The older woman had come back from that 'holiday' looking tired and wan, and Terry had been worried about her. Domino, of course, had sworn that she was fine. Cable had been too busy with other things (or people, Theresa thought, thinking of Cable's new 'friendship' with Storm) to notice, and Domino was reluctant to talk to anyone about personal matters. Theresa had tried, but Domino had insisted that it was only her imagination. Terry knew better. Try as she might to keep impenetrable barriers, the 'mysterious' Domino occasionally let things slip that told anyone listening enough to know that she was more than the cold hearted mercenary she claimed to be. Terry thought sometimes that she was her only female friend, but that even that bond was tempered by Domino's insistence on privacy. She asked again "Are ye sure that ye're alright? Ye sound horrible..."

Domino laughed. "Just a hangover, Terry, I'm fine."

Terry winced, remembering all too vividly similar mornings of her own. "Alright, then. What do ye want me to tell Cable?"

She thought for a moment, then answered quietly "Tell him I have 'plans'. I'll see you later, Terry, and don't forget- the session is at nine sharp." She hung up the phone.

Theresa looked at the silent phone and sighed. She sat up in her bed, looking out the window into the trees. 'Why didn't she tell Cable herself?' she wondered, curiosity piqued. Though as Siryn she was deputy leader of X-Force, Cable and Domino had always preferred to discuss executive matters amongst themselves whenever possible. She groaned and lay back into the warm covers. Privately, she was glad Domino was taking some down time, but she couldn't help muttering "And just how am I gonna explain all this to Cable?"

Domino walked back over to the bed. John lay on the floor, clad only in his boxers and one sock.

"There's some aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand," he pointed "I got it for you while you were on the phone."

Gratefully accepting it, she looked down at him. "That other sock got you beat, hmmm?" She swallowed the aspirin, washing it down with a mouthful of cool mineral water.

He rolled over and grabbed playfully at her leg. She easily eluded him, and had to laugh when he sprang at her. Though he was in excellent physical condition, there were few people on the planet she couldn't best in hand to hand combat. She grinned, and decided to play along for a while. After all, she noted, as she let him pull her close to him, today was her day off and she'd never been one to let a little headache spoil a good time.


Part 4

He was not having a good day. It was all he could do to maintain his composure when Siryn had given him the news, but from the look she gave him he knew she suspected something anyway. His head still throbbed mercilessly, and to top it all off, his team had performed like rank amateurs. The debriefing had seemed endless, and he knew from the expressions on their faces as they stormed out of the room that they now felt almost as miserable as he. He couldn't decide whether that made him feel better or worse, and finally just decided that he didn't care either way. To phrase it succinctly, he was in a royal snit.

After the debriefing, the team retired to their wing to shower and change into civilian clothing. One by one, they drifted down to the kitchen for lunch. Though the mansion boasted a large kitchen with advanced culinary technology, the younger members of X-Force, as a rule used an older, smaller kitchen closer to their wing. They found that they preferred the privacy it offered, and had outfitted it with everything they needed. James was the first to arrive, and had his lunch almost ready by the time the others straggled in.

Theresa walked through the door a few minutes later, lost in thought. Now dressed in a tee shirt and jeans, she walked over to the table and pulled up a chair. She sat quietly for a few moments, considering her early morning conversation with Domino. Before he could speak, she turned her head, tilting it slightly. "Tabitha," she decided, and he nodded. One of the side effects of her mutation was extremely sensitive hearing, a gift he shared. She looked at him, really noticing him for the first time. She thought about what had happened this morning with Cable and Domino and its parallels with her relationship with this man. 'I don't want us to turn out like that.'

"Jimmy- we need to talk." He opened the door of the stove and looked in, checking the progress of his meal.

"About what?" His voice was carefully neutral, and she winced at the lack of emotion in it.

"Ye know damn well about what. We've...I've...been putting it off long enough. We need to talk about what happened last month, with Risque" he grimaced, but she went on "About a lot of things."

He narrowed his eyes and stood, arms akimbo, staring at her. "Theresa- this has no impact on the team. I have no desire to rehash this thing again just so you can keep accurate logs."

She stood up slowly, face flushed. "Jimmy. That isn't why I want to talk to ye, and ye know it." He raised an eyebrow, and she whispered "Or ye ought to."

His face softened slightly, and he motioned towards the door. "Tabitha's coming," he quirked a small smile. "Let's talk about this later. Maybe over dinner?" He raised a warning hand "But no shopping this time." He looked at her. "But you're buying."

She grinned widely. "You've got a deal." She walked to one of the refrigerators, and continued in a much more conversational tone "And what do ye think about this mornin'?"

She heard a loud "POP" from the doorway, and turned around. Tabitha leaned against the doorframe, vigorously chewing a wad of gum. "I'll tell ya what I think about it. It's total crap, is what I think about it."

Rictor and Sunspot walked in. "I agree completely. He treated us like idiots!" Bobby was literally steaming.

Rictor held up a hand "As much as I hate to give the man any credit at all, he was right about one thing. We did suck today, big time."

Bobby nodded. "Yeah, I know, but even so we didn't deserve all that! Even Domino wouldn't have reamed us out that bad!"

Tabitha crouched in front of another refrigerator, pawing through the crisper. Grabbing a head of lettuce, she asked in a seemingly casual manner. "Speaking of which, I wonder why she didn't come in today. The only time she misses is when she's out on a mission."

James shrugged. "Dunno. I don't blame her...I wish I hadn't come today, too." He removed a pan from the stove, and sat it down on a burner. "Good question, though, Tab. It must be something serious for her to not be here-"

Theresa took some cold cuts and began making a sandwich. "Ah, I'm sure she's fine. Everybody needs a day off every now and then- and ye gotta admit, she's been workin' too much lately, even for her."

Bobby sat down "Even an old warhorse like her needs a day off, I guess. From the way Cable's been acting today, though, I wish he'd been the one who played hooky- Hey!" His voice took on a curious note "I wonder where somebody like Domino would go to relax." He waggled his eyebrows in a light-hearted leer. "And who with."

The team's resident gossip-monger, Tabitha, jumped in. "Yeah, that's just what I was thinkin'. She loves all this cloak and dagger crap too much to just not come in, and you know she doesn't get sick. She's gotta be with somebody. Why else would she skip work? You know," Her voice turned conspiratorial "She left the mansion all dressed up last night, and she didn't come home - and now she's calling in? Something's up. She's got some going on the side. No wonder Cable's been so grumpy-" Her voice trailed off as she realized that her observation might have held a kernel of truth.

Bobby shook his head, protesting. "I was just joking, Tab. She's not doing anything like that - this is Domino we're talking about. She doesn't think about anything but guns and bossing us around."

Theresa looked up from her sandwich. "What a monumentally stupid thing to say, 'Berto. Of course she thinks about more than that- she just wants people to think that's all she's about. In fact-" She broke off sharply, the took another bite of her sandwich, still glowering at Bobby.

Tabitha smelled blood. She stuck a fork in her salad, then said in a wheedling tone "Alright, then, Irish, you tell us what the deal is. You're the one she called - tell us what she said."

Theresa sighed. "Tabitha- she didn't say anything- just to tell Cable she wasn't coming in and for us not to worry about her."

Tabitha snorted. "Uh-huh. What else?"

"That's all! She just said that she had plans and for us to go ahead with the session."

Rictor broke in, unable to contain his glee. "So Dom's got plans, huh? I just bet she's got plans. Who'd've thought she'd have it in her? 'Course, the way she dresses, you'd know she's got a wild streak, but I always thought she was a fighter, not a lover." He yelped as a spoon hit him from behind.

Theresa glared at him "I'll have ye know, ye insensitive prick, that how a woman dresses has absolutely no impact on what kind of person she is, and if she wants to spend time with an old friend that's her business!" Her eyes widened as she realized what she had said, but she resumed eating her sandwich, hoping that no one had caught it.

Tabitha's eyes gleamed with discovery. "An 'old friend', hmmm? Wonder if he's an old friend of Cable's, too. Bet fearless leader wouldn't like that, now...if he could even get his eyes off of Storm long enough to notice."

Theresa gave up on her sandwich, throwing her hands in the air. She stood up. "Who knows? But I bet with ye goin' on about it so, the world will know by Tuesday. I've never met a bigger bunch of gossipers in me life. I'll see ye later." She turned, disgusted, and walked out of the kitchen.

Tabitha shrugged, and returned her attention to her salad. "Can't fault a girl for trying," she smiled.

Across the mansion, Cable walked into the larger kitchen. He usually ate with the others, but he decided against it today. He'd seen enough of them for a while, and he knew they felt the same about him. The kitchen was usually empty for this time of day - only one other person sat at the large table. Psylocke, now free from the curse of the Crimson Dawn, had finished lunch and was silently reading at the table. Betsy Braddock looked up from her book, and couldn't repress a knowing smile. 'Every telepath within a hundred miles felt the psychic backlash of his... experience last night.' She definitely had, and she chuckled silently 'I know Warren certainly appreciated it.' She liked Domino, she always had. Although she didn't know her well enough to call her a friend, she considered her a bit of a kindred spirit. Domino also often spurned conventions, and Betsy found that refreshing. She also considered Storm a close friend, and as much as she'd appreciated the irony of Cable's situation she did not especially enjoy the way he was treating the two women. Although it was completely none of her business, Betsy decided to speak to him. She laid her book down.

"The performance was wonderful last night. We really enjoyed it. You should've come." She looked across the room and saw his broad shoulders tense.

He turned around from where he was standing. "What?" His voice was thick and harsh.

She continued blithely. "The Vivaldi concerto. Smashing performance. Great fun." She smiled "We appreciated the gift. Sometimes the best things in life come when we least expect it, eh?" She looked perfectly innocent, but mentally shook with ribald laughter, carefully concealed by her psychic shielding. "And how was your evening?"

He looked at her with narrowed eyes, and said in measured tones "Absolutely uneventful." He took some meat from the refrigerator and walked to the table, sitting as far from her as possible. Though his body language discouraged conversation, she continued "What did you two do last night?"

He looked up from his meal. "We went to the theater."

She raised an eyebrow "Oh really? What did you see?"

He groaned inwardly. Psylocke was never this talkative. Why did she have to wait until now to get cute with him? "The Periodic Tables of Spam. Betsy, please...my head is killing me."

She almost choked. 'This is better than I thought.' "Excuse me? I don't believe I've seen that one. The Periodic Tables of...what?"

He sighed. "You heard me. It was her idea."

Betsy, feigning ignorance, looked properly dubious. "You mean that Domino gave up tickets to Vivaldi to see...let me get this straight...The Periodic Tables of Spam? I really didn't think that her style at all." Betsy's eyes glittered in merriment.

He exhaled sharply "I didn't go with Domino, Psylocke. I went with Storm." His voice now had a sharp edge of irritation.

Betsy nodded, but then affected an expression of confusion. "But what about the purple flas...oh, never mind." She stood gracefully. "None of my business." His eyes narrowed, but before he could speak she 'apologized'. "I'm sorry. How crass of me to bring it up." She turned and walked away, mental barriers locked tight against the psionic barrage she felt sure would come. Nothing happened. As she deposited her dirty dishes into the washer, she glanced over her shoulder to see him sitting quietly, eyes closed. She could sense the pain from the headache radiating from him, and was almost sorry she'd antagonized him so. As she left the room, she passed Ororo, and smiled pleasantly at her. From the hall, she heard Ororo say in a slightly disgusted voice "Nathan- raw steak?" She shook her head in sympathy. He really was having a bad day.


Part 5

Though he'd protested, she returned home that night after dinner. He'd driven her to her car, still parked near the bar where they'd met again. After promising to call him, she drove home. She was exhausted, and her head still hurt. She shook her head- somehow fighting all day and all night wasn't as tiring as pretending to be 'normal' for a day.

About fifteen miles from the mansion, she tilted the rear-view mirror toward her face and opened the glove compartment. She took out a tiny vial of liquid, pouring some on her fingers. A few seconds after she gingerly applied it to the skin around her left eye, the 'skin' puckered and bubbled slightly. Keeping one eye on the road as she drove, she began delicately picking at the area, skilfully pulling off a single opaque sheet of pale latex.

She glanced at her reflection again and nodded in satisfaction. There was now a perfect oval of black skin surrounding her left eye. She readjusted the mirror and turned down Graymalkin Lane. She looked down at the latex in her hand and smiled. She'd been using it for several years now and barely even noticed it anymore, much like the contact lenses she sometimes wore to disguise her brilliant violet eyes. Guaranteed not to come off for at least seventy-two hours without the accompanying removal solution, even under the harshest conditions, the 'makeup' matched her albino complexion perfectly and was absolutely undetectable. 'It'd better be,' she snorted 'I pay enough for it'. It was a worthwhile expense, she knew. She had undeniably distinct features, and in a business where identification meant exposure she couldn't always afford to go au natural. She tossed the latex into a bag to be disposed of later, and pulled down the driveway to the mansion.

She walked up to her room quickly, hoping to avoid contact. She had too much to think about to manage casual conversation just then, or worse yet, run into Nathan. She managed to get to her room undetected, and closed the door with a sigh of relief. Crossing the room quickly, she lay on her bed and threw an arm over her eyes. She kicked her shoes off and lay there quietly a while, then crawled under the covers and fell into an exhausted slumber.

Nathan sat alone by the shore of the lake. His entire day had been absolutely horrible, just a joke. Besides the morning debacle with his team, not to mention his lovely lunch, he'd had a fight with his father and had very nearly moved the team out of the mansion. Only the knowledge that X-Force needed the training facilities and protection the mansion afforded had kept him from gathering up the team and leaving immediately. Cyclops had later apologized, but the apology had seemed rather oily. A quick mindscan proved him right, but Jean caught him. She then lectured him on privacy and ethics, all familiar arguments. He had in the past considered both luxuries that he couldn't afford, but now had to concede their worth. He didn't mind breaking them in battle, but was slightly ashamed he'd slipped so easily into old habits, especially with his father.

Then Jean had surprised him. In a much gentler tone she had told him "Your personal life is your business, but you really need to work on your shielding. It's rude to broadcast such personal emotions and sensations at the intensity you did last night". 'Yeah, right,' he thought. 'Like we all don't know whenever she and Scott get creative'. The worst part was, he hadn't even done anything. She had, and he'd been trying his damnedest not to think about it all day. He avoided both teams at dinner, opting instead to go for a run, hoping to tire himself out so he didn't have to think. He'd wound up on the far side of the lake and sat down, exhausted in mind if not in body. He looked over the lake, considering his options.

'Dom,' he thought regretfully 'have we drifted that far apart? She was the only bright spot in my life for years, and now that I'm finally finding myself it seems like I'm losing her'. He telekinetically picked up a nearby twig and snapped it, closing his eyes against the residual pain still plaguing him. He shook his head.

'I don't know how this happened.' An image of Ororo laughing alongside him flashed through his mind. 'Ororo? But Dom and I have been too close for too long, shared too much, to let anything like someone else come between us'. His eyes widened and he remembered the hurt and rejection he'd felt after he'd realized just what had happened last night. He closed his eyes. "Damn," he whispered.

'Still...Dom and I have been so much more than lovers. Eighteen years of friendship and a psi-link should prove that. For so long, she was the only one I trusted...'. Images of the times spent with Vanessa masquerading as Domino flew through his mind, but he shook his head quickly. He didn't even want to consider that old betrayal. All that time had done was intensify his feelings for her, but she hadn't seemingly shared them. 'Had she? I don't know...as close as we are it's so hard to tell with her'. After he'd rescued her from Tolliver- 'No, Tyler,' he corrected himself bitterly, she'd disappeared, thinking him dead. She'd fulfilled her promise to him, though, had reunited the Wild Pack to try to find X-Force. Later, they'd rejoined. "You called, I came," she'd said to him, and that had said it all.

He thought about the last few weeks- they'd hardly talked at all since she returned from her trip to Brazil. He'd been so busy, and every time he had a few moments it seemed Ororo or the team had claimed his time. He'd trusted her to take care of herself, and obviously, he thought wryly, she had.

His technorganically-enhanced hearing detected the sound of a familiar engine. He looked across the grounds and saw her car come up the driveway and go around to park in the back. He inhaled sharply in relief. 'At least she came back,' he thought, 'this time'.


Part 6

The evening had been an unqualified success. She'd picked the restaurant, and had been pleasantly surprised when he hadn't even balked at having to dress up. The food was excellent, service impeccable, and each had enjoyed the other's company immensely. Conversation and laughter flowed, but both studiously avoided the single topic foremost in their minds.

After the server took away their plates, they lapsed into a comfortable silence. She sipped her coffee, and he stole glances at her. He shook his head. 'Enough with this. Trying to replace Terry is what got me into all this trouble in the first place, and I'm tired of it. Last chance, Jimmy. If this doesn't work, no more - you'll leave her alone - leave it alone.' He cleared his throat. "I guess you'd like to know what happened."

Caught unaware, she widened her eyes, but quickly regained her composure. In a quiet voice she replied "Jimmy- it doesna' matter. All that counts is that ye're back wi' us now."

"Am I?" he replied, looking directly into her eyes "Am I with you now?"

She took a deep breath. 'This is it, Terry girl...if ye don' mean it, don' say it...He doesnae need any more hurt in his life.' She looked again at him, so stoically stone faced, prepared for the worst- only his eyes betrayed the turmoil she knew he was feeling. The expression looked oddly familiar, and she cast around in her memory until she found it. Swallowing, she realized where she'd seen that look so many times before. He had worn that exact expression of frightened adoration when he had taken care of her during the worst of her drinking. She closed her eyes and nodded.

She took his hand and whispered "Aye, I think ye are at that- that is, if ye want to be."

James sat quietly "Say that again," he whispered. "I don't think I heard you right."

She smiled a slow, seductive grin, caressing his hand lightly. "Of course ye did, now come on and let's go. There's better things to be doin' than sittin' here twiddlin' our thumbs." She winked playfully at him, and his mouth parted in sudden comprehension.

Swallowing hard, he gulped "Waiter! Check please," almost tipping the heavy oak table over in his rush to get up.

He debated confronting her that night, but decided against it. She was difficult enough to deal with when he wasn't exhausted and angry, and he wanted to be in full command of all his faculties when he finally got the nerve to bring it up. Besides, he freely admitted to himself, he was stalling. After a quick shower, he fell into bed, this time to welcoming covers and warm sleep.

She woke up during the night, face streaming with tears. 'What's the matter with me?' she wondered, angrily brushing away tears. She felt strange, almost dirty, but was too tired to worry about it. Probably just a bad dream. 'Knock it off, Dom, go to sleep. As nice as this little vacation was, there's a session at nine, and you need the sleep.' She closed her eyes and resumed her slumber, unwittingly continuing the same dream.

She opened her eyes groggily, blinking against the haze of pain and tranquilizing drugs. She hung limply from a cold dank wall, arms and legs pinioned tightly to the mildewed concrete. She swallowed, and felt the cold metal pressed against her throat. 'Damn,' she whispered, 'inhibitor collar.' Few knew for a fact that she was indeed a mutant, but it seemed that these particular goons weren't willing to take the chance. 'Smart,' she conceded grudgingly. She knew if they hadn't forced the collar on her, she wouldn't still be here. Here, she thought with some difficulty, must be a Genoshan prison. Her last memory before she awakened just a moment ago was of dodging sprays of Magistrates' bullets, covering the escape of the gene-positive families she and her team had been hired to protect. Other, darker memories threatened to break through, but she shook her head- 'I'll deal with that when I have to. One crisis at a time, Dom,'

She managed to lift her head and take a good look at herself and her surroundings. She didn't know how long she'd been trapped here in this filthy holding cell, but the ache in her arms and legs told her that she'd been hanging here at least a day.

She glanced down at herself. Her body armor had been thoroughly divested of all its hidden weapons, and as a result had huge rips and tears, rendering it useless for protection or cover. She had hideous cuts and bruises all over her body, albino skin showing colors of mottled purple and green clearly through the holes in her uniform. She noticed that some of the worst bruises and even some bites were localized around her breasts and lower abdomen. She gagged, vomiting nothing from a long-empty stomach. 'Pigs,' she snarled, 'they're all dead- everyone of them-they just don't know it-' She spat weakly, then lowered her head again, conserving her strength until she'd need it.

About an hour later, through the fog of pain, she heard the door open. She growled "Come any closer and I'll kill you."

A thin, dark-haired man she'd never seen before carefully checked the room, then entered the doorway. Wincing at her appearance, he crossed the room rapidly. "Come on, now, luv, that's no way to talk to yer rescuer." His voice was rough but soothing, with a strong British accent. She tried to place him among her English contacts, but couldn't. He removed a leather bag from a pocket of the dark trenchcoat he wore, removing a set of tools from the kit. He began working on her shackles, taking great care not to hurt her as he skilfully manoeuvred the tiny picks.

"Who are you? Did Nathan send you?" Her voice was low and strained, and the man straightened and looked at her.

"Sorry, don't know who you're talkin' about. My name is Pete Wisdom, and now shut up and let me get you outta here."

She woke up again, face dry but head aching. 'Damn, it's been a long time since I've had that one...' She had a vast repertoire of nightmares from those days, but had been blessedly free of them for several months. She stretched, body aching with phantom bruises from the dream, and lay back down. She knew from experience that there'd be no more sleep that night. Sighing, she got out of bed and grabbed her robe, heading down to the kitchen to get something to drink.

He sat alone at the kitchen table, sipping the drink he'd prepared. He'd had a nightmare, very dark and vague, but disturbing enough to wake him up from an otherwise wonderful and much needed sleep. He had decided a small drink was in order, and trudged down to the kitchen for a glass.

She strode blindly into the room, arms stretched in a huge yawn. He blinked in surprise, then sat his glass down. 'What is, is,' he told himself 'Deal with it.'

He spoke before she saw him. "Dom." His voice was quiet, undemanding.

Startled, she tensed. Lowering her arms from the stretch, she crossed them protectively over her chest. "Nate."

She stood apart from him and waited silently as he sat looking at her. 'Here it comes. Serious Cable Lecture Number Twelve. What were you thinking calling in like that, yadda yadda yadda,'

He attempted a smile "Join me?" He motioned to the empty chairs beside him.

She sighed and opened a cabinet for a glass "Sure."

She sat down and poured a generous shot of liquor, downing it in one gulp. As she wordlessly poured another, he said in a low tone "I've never seen you this quiet."

She looked into the glass and then met his gaze "I guess people change, eh, Nate?" She picked up the glass and downed it, then stood to leave.


Part 7

He grabbed her arm harder than he had intended, but she didn't flinch, despite the pain shooting up and down her arm. He loosened his grip, but still held onto her. She stood silently for a moment, then sighed. "What do you want me to say, Nathan? You haven't had either the time or the inclination to talk about anything other than 'business' for a long time now. Are you really so surprised that I'm returning the favor?"

He didn't answer. They stared at each other quietly for a moment until Domino murmured in a quiet tone "Let go of my flonqing arm, Nathan." He glanced at her arm, the warm metal of his fingers pressed tight against the cool lavender silk of her robe, and felt himself tighten. "Sorry," he replied sheepishly, releasing her arm.

She crossed her arms again, and stared at him. She exhaled sharply, wondering how to begin. "Nate - I'm tired of all this. I'm tired of all the secrets, tired of hiding myself from you and the kids. With Theo gone, you're probably the only person in the world I trust- Milo's dead, Hammer is martyring himself, Kane is off romping with Vanessa, of all people, and G.W.- Hell, I don't even want to think about what G.W. is doing!"

He looked up at her sharply "Milo's dead?" He asked in a shocked voice, pouring a drink with a shaky hand. He offered it to her, and she accepted it gratefully.

She closed her eyes against the pain. "Yeah, Nate, he is. I watched him die- and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. Just like Theo."

He shook his head slowly, the telepathic link they shared reverberating with her pain. "I didn't know," He whispered lamely.

"Yeah, well, you haven't asked." Her voice was flat, emotionless, but he could sense the pain behind the neutral tone. 'Just one more thing we've got in common,' his mind whispered.

He winced in guilt. "I know. I'm sorry. Please, sit down with me, Dom," He motioned to the chair beside him. "Tell me what happened."

She stood silently for a moment, weighing her options. Looking into his face she saw the pained vulnerability that he worked so hard to hide. The only times she'd seen that look was when she'd first joined X-Force and they'd just resumed their 'relationship'. He'd tried so hard then to impress her, to convince her that they needed her. She sighed, 'Shit, I've at least got to tell him about Milo.' She pulled a chair and straddled it, pouring a generous shot and downing it.

In a quiet voice, she told him. She told him about Pierce and Deathstrike, about Pico and Puck, and about Milo. He sat silently as she recounted what had happened on her 'vacation,' fists clenched in impotent anger as she told in shaky tones about the explosion that killed her husband. When she finished her face was wet, and he knew what that cost her. He held out his hand and she took it, grasping it hard. He looked at her "I know what it's like."

She stared at him, remembering their trip to the future where he where he was raised and all the nights, so like this one, spent discussing his own lost wife Aliya. She nodded "I know you do."

She finally released his hand, then wiped her eyes. "Let's talk about something else, OK?"

He smiled softly, then poured her another drink. She gulped it down, and he shook his head. "You know, what you said before is not completely true."

She quirked an eyebrow, attempting a jaunty tone. "What's not completely true?"

He mimicked her expression "You have other friends besides me."

She snorted sarcastically "Yeah, right. I'm the queen of interpersonal relationships."

He smiled "No, Dom, but think- Terry and the rest of the team trust you."

She poured another drink "Bullshit, Nathan. Terry - maybe. The rest of the team- they don't know me at all." She sighed, the liquor beginning to loosen her tongue "And maybe I don't want them to. This business is too heartbreaking to risk making friends, and losing them." She downed another shot, then frowned. "I hate this stuff. Got anything else a little stronger here, or do I have to resort to my own private stock?"

He grinned at her expression. "You're putting enough of it away to hate it so much. You always could out-drink anyone I ever met." He stood. "Yeah, I think I've got some scotch back here-" He walked across the room and opened a cabinet, telekinetically moving objects on the crowded shelves until he found a dark bottle in the corner.

"Scotch, huh," She muttered. As he straightened the cabinet and dusted off the bottle she closed her eyes. 'Dom...haven't you had enough scotch for a while?' she taunted herself, thinking of the previous night. 'I'm too tired to think about this right now. What am I going to do about John? Am I gonna call him back? Do I even want to? Yeah, it was good to see him and I definitely needed a stressbreaker, and I have to admit I enjoyed him, but...' She smiled tiredly at Nathan, who was floating the bottle through the air to the table. 'There are enough complications in my life already."

He sat down beside her and poured a glass, proposing a toast. His voice was slightly slurred, and she grinned. He never could hold his liquor like she could. She raised her glass. "What to, Nate?"

He was silent a moment, then answered. "To those we left behind."

Swallowing tightly, she clinked glasses with him, and let the warm liquid flow down her throat as she desperately tried to think of anything else but men.


Part 8

He lay his head on the table, awash in drunken happiness. They would both be observing the team during the morning session, and both agreed that they could camouflage any residual inebriation from the kids. She sat beside him, a slightly superior expression on her face. Their mutant physiologies increased both of their respective resistances to the effects of alcohol, so they both had to consume more to feel the same effects. Even given the significant difference in their weights, though, her alcohol tolerance was still considerably higher than his and they both knew it. He'd found that out the hard way.

He sat up and put the glass to his lips. He was drunk, the alcohol releasing ideas long suppressed, lending a dangerous cant to his thoughts. Unbidden, jealous images of her with the other sprang to his mind, but he tried to ignore them. He groaned under his breath. He'd thought he'd worked through these emotions, but the liquor had apparently brought them all back with a vengeance.

He stared at her for a moment, and found his eyes drawn to the pale cleavage barely hidden by her gaping robe. He swallowed, and felt himself harden, thinking of their nights together, thinking of the connection that evidenced itself so strongly, so intensely last night. He let the thoughts linger for a moment, then shook his head vigorously. 'No, no, not her, it was Vanessa, not her!' His mind taunted him with the memory of that single long-ago liaison during the first days of the Wild Pack, but he blinked that away. No sense bringing that up. They'd both been so young, and in unspoken accord neither had mentioned it since. He furrowed his brow in concentration, trying desperately to erase the erotic images floating though his mind before she felt his hunger and jealousy through their psi-link.

'Damn, she's flonquing gorgeous,' he thought, then forced himself to look away from her breasts to her face, though that only helped slightly. She looked happy as she leaned back in her chair, eyes closed, a small smile playing on her lips. He nodded knowingly, understanding precisely how she felt, momentarily forgetting his anger. This was right, this was good, this was how it should be, not having to hide his dark side, his past. He knew she felt the same. They didn't have to hide their pasts from other. Both already knew the other's dark side, shared it. Images of Ororo flashed guiltily through his mind, but he quickly banished them. 'She doesn't need to know about this...I'll think about her tomorrow.'

He took a deep breath, and tried to enunciate clearly. "Hey, Dom..."

She opened her eyes and yawned. "Yeah, Nate?" She frowned at the empty bottle. 'Only two?' she grimaced, and stood up to look for more. Her vision sparkled, and she abruptly sat back down again. She might have a higher tolerance than anyone she'd ever met 'Except Logan,' she thought wryly, but even she had her limits.

'Guess I drank more than I thought I did...gettin' out of practice.' She turned to look at Nate, who was sitting quietly, staring at her. "What?" She asked him, grinning "Do I have a buger on my nose or somethin'?"

He shook his head. "Dom...I'm serious. I needta talk to you about something." He reached out and delicately touched her cheek. "Something I should've said a very long time ago."

She closed her eyes. 'Aw, shit. I don't need this right now.' Her voice shook slightly "Nathan...please..."

He traced a finger down her cheek. "So soft," he murmured, amazed that this was the same woman he'd shared innumerable battles with. "You're so beauti..." He realized what he was saying, and stopped shortly, unable to meet her gaze.

She inhaled deeply. 'Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit. He's drunk, he doesn't mean this, he doesn't think about me like that anymore, he's just drunk-' She felt a warmth suffuse her body, and found herself holding his hand. "Nate. I..." She swallowed. 'This is it, Dom, no guts no glory.' She put her free hand on his arm. "Nate, are you sure this is what you..." Her voice trailed off, and she shook herself. "Why now?" she whispered, heart pounding.

His hand closed around hers. "We never talked about what happened in Israel." He drained his glass, then inhaled. "I think we need to."

Her eyes narrowed. "Yeah, it took the end of the universe to get us to talk about this before." He chuckled, but her voice was serious. "I tried to talk to you about it. You didn't want to bring it up, changed the subject every time I tried." She removed her hand from his grasp. "You haven't brought it up since, and it's been over a year. Why are you worried about it now?" She asked suspiciously. 'If he found out about John and is playing me...' She couldn't finish the thought.

He winced at the callousness of her tone. "Dom. I know, I'm sorry. I want to talk about it now, though..."

She turned around to face him directly, all traces of contentment gone. "YOU want to talk about it, so we will, right? YOU want the team to do so and so, so we do it, right? No questions asked. What Cable wants, Cable gets. Well, Nate, let me ask you something. WHY do you want to talk about this right now?" She sat quietly, arms crossed, waiting his reply.

He met her gaze directly. 'Can't tell her the truth...don't want her to know that I felt what I felt. If she knew I...' He clenched his fist under the table, jealousy flaring, but calmed himself and continued in halting tones. "Dom, please. I know we need to ... Don't you know how I f... Shit, I don't know. I just... Isn't it just enough that I'm ready to talk about it now, ready to find out where you stand with me?"

She ground her teeth and replied, eyes flashing "Where I stand with YOU? What have I ever done to make you doubt my loyalty?"

He couldn't take it anymore, images of the previous nights betrayal racing through his mind. He grabbed her shoulder roughly. He barked "Oh, you'd never hide anything from me, would you? Yeah, right. Just where the hell were you last night?"

She glared at him "That's none of your damn business."

His voice whispered in her head You're wrong. Where were you, and just who the hell were you screwing last night? He must've been pretty damn good to make you skip out on us like that. She blinked, shocked at the venom in the thought.

"Wha...Nathan, what are you...how did you..." She bit her lip until it bled, a thin trickle of scarlet that she wiped angrily away. She hurled back I told you, it's none of your damn business! I don't know how you found out, I don't care how you found out, but get this, you hypocritical sonofabitch, I'll do what I want, when I want to, and I don't owe anybody an explanation, especially not YOU!

He lowered his head to his chest, ashamed. "Dom...I'm sorry... I didn't mean to..." He put his head to his temple, headache returned. "But I guess that isn't enough, is it?" He raised his eyes.

She took a deep breath, trying to gain a semblance of control. Finally, she tilted her head and said in strained tones "No, Nathan, it's not. You have no right."

He nodded contritely, but couldn't help the bitter thought that leaked into her mind Who was it? Was he better than me?

Her eyes flew open, and she snarled. "I told you, NONE of your damn business! I'm tired of this, Nathan, tired of you waiting until you see I have a life outside this damn dream to tell me how you feel! I'm tired of waiting until YOU'RE ready! But most of all, Nate," She whispered "I'm tired of you condemning me AND thinking I'm stupid enough to not even notice you're fucking Storm!"

"But...I'm not...We're just..." He raised a hand, tried to tell her, but she cut him off. "I don't want to hear it, Nathan. We've been friends too long for you to insult my intelligence by lying to me like that. You've insulted me enough already." She pushed the chair away angrily, and strode to the kitchen door.

She spun around, raising an eyebrow at his bewildered expression. "I'll see you tomorrow at noon." Her voice took a sugary sweet tone, and she said calmly in a cheerful voice. "And now, I'm going to bed before I kick your fucking teeth in. Good night." With that, she was gone.

He watched her go, then put his face in his hands. 'That went well,' he thought, then stood to leave.


Part 9

She sat down to the computer, rubbing her aching head. Since their argument last night, it had pounded mercilessly. She'd taken several painkillers already, and though they'd blunted the worst of the pain her skull still throbbed. The workout session had been torturous, but for a thankful change Nathan had avoided his psionics in observing and analyzing the session. She'd studiously avoided his gaze and had spoken to him only when necessary, but even so she couldn't help but notice that he looked like hell. 'Good,' she smiled, and winced at the pain. She'd tried an Askani biofeedback technique to curb the pain, and it had almost worked until she remembered who had taught it to her. 'Nathan. Smug bastard.' She fumed silently for a moment, then turned the machine on.

#You have mail.# "Gee, thanks," she muttered sarcastically. "That sign flashing on the screen wasn't quite enough to clue me in- glad you told me." She opened her mailbox, and grinned when she saw the first message - a raunchy joke forwarded by Pete Wisdom with a quick note at the end.

HEY DOM. CALL ME THIS WEEK- GOT SOME NEWS YOU MIGHT WANT TO KNOW ABOUT. OH, YEAH, KITTY SAYS HEY.

PETE

She raised an eyebrow speculatively. News from Pete was usually interesting, and it'd be good to see what the old git was up to. She didn't have that many old friends left, and she'd recently learned to treasure the ones she had. 'All except my best one, that is.' Sighing, she leaned back in the chair. 'Nathan...why are you such a jerk? And why do I let myself put up with it?' She sat up suddenly. "And when did I become such a wuss to spend so much time thinking about this crap?"

They walked into the kitchen hand in hand, determined to get the teasing and gibes over with as soon as possible. The room was relatively full, the team having drifted in sporadically after the session and showers so their entrance was noted immediately.

Tabitha's eyebrows rose almost to her hairline. She nudged Bobby under the table, and he almost choked. Theresa smothered a grin, and leaned up to whisper something in Jimmy's ear. He chuckled, and they released hands a bit reluctantly.

"Hey, everybody, what's up?" His voice was light and casual, but his dark eyes sparkled.

Shatterstar answered "We were discussing Cable's disposition this morning. It seems that some of us" he motioned toward Tabitha and Bobby "consider him a 'hardhat'."

Rictor broke in, smiling. "HardASS, 'Star."

Shatterstar snorted. "Whatever. In any case, I disagree. On my world, I underwent much harsher training when I was only a child."

Tabitha looked at him over her sunglasses. "Yeah, and look how well you turned out. Anyway, that's old news, we're always bitching about Cable. So," She turned and faced Theresa. "How's tricks?"

Terry looked at Jimmy then back at Tabitha. "Couldn't be better." She waggled her eyebrows playfully, then walked across the room to a cabinet and began rummaging through boxes and cans.

Tabitha would not be thwarted so easily. "Hold it right there. Out with it." She pointed at the couple. "You. And you. Talk. Now."

Jimmy flushed slightly, but Terry answered quickly. "What do ye think, Tab? 'Tis none of you're business, really, but Jimmy an' me have patched things up. Now, what were ye sayin' about Cable?" Her expression left no room for debate.

Tabitha flashed her a look that said 'We'll talk later', but dubiously returned to her previous topic. "I was sayin', before you so rudely interrupted, that..." She began a tirade that was mostly ignored as others ate meals of varying degrees of nutrition.

'Does she never shut up?' Rictor growled silently, sliding his chair away from the table. He opened the trashcan, and blinked in surprise. On top of the normal kitchen refuse were three empty half-gallons of liquor, a chipped shot glass and two broken glasses, all with telltale traces of brown liquid pooled in their respective bottoms. He spun around angrily.

"Lissen here- next time ya'll throw a party and don't invite me, I'm gonna be really pissed.... He held one of the bottles up, an accusing look on his handsome features. X-Force had impromptu get-togethers all the time, and by common agreement everyone was invited (except Caliban, who really didn't understand why his teammates acted so different when they had a party). In their business, relaxation was absolutely essential, and like many other groups of friends, X-Force found considerable release in gatherings much like the one obviously held in the kitchen last night. Of course, not everyone drank- Siryn wouldn't allow herself, and Shatterstar refused, but all enjoyed the down time just the same. Occasionally, they'd even invite some of the younger and more boisterous X-men- Bobby Drake was an especial favorite. Domino sometimes joined them, but always sat apart from the group, nursing a drink with a decidedly nostalgic look on her face.

Bobby sat his tea down. "Ric...Man, what are you talking about? I haven't heard about any party...unless some of you had one and didn't tell the rest of us..." He glared at the group.

Theresa shook her head. "Don't be stupid any more than ye absolutely have ta be, boys. Lemme see that." She walked over to the trashcan, oblivious to the concerned look James cast in her direction.

She picked it up and glanced down at the remains in the trashcan. Part of her longingly wanted to pick up where this little celebration obviously left off, but she quickly brushed those thoughts away. 'Wonder whose these are....Probably none of our business, but if anyone else 'sides us was in here drinkin' and raisin' Cain in our kitchen I'd really like ta know....' She brightened. "Cal! Come here for a minute, will ye?"

The huge Morlock stood a bit uncertainly. He'd sat quietly to the side of the team, still reeling from the recent effects of Apocalypse's tampering. He looked up. "Yes, friend-Terry?"

Her expression softened. "Cal...I don't want ta push ye, but kin ye tell me whose bottles these are?" She picked up the other two and held them out to him.

He nodded surely, proud that he could help. "Yes. There's many, many scents in this room, but..." He walked over to the bottles and delicately sniffed one then sneezed "Stinky stuff! Whew!" He thought for a moment and then grinned broadly in triumph. "Patch-eye and Cable-Nathan had a party!" He looked quizzically at Terry. "Why wasn't Caliban invited?"

Theresa managed to hide her smile. "Nobody was, Cal, but I tell ye what. I'll invited ye to the next party, how about that?"

Caliban nodded happily and returned to his seat a little surer of himself than before. The rest of the team wore varying expressions of amusement, disbelief and surprised glee. Tabitha actually crowed in delight.

"Three half-gallons? Droga, I thought Ric could pack it in...gotta give ol' Nate and Dom credit. I guess years of experience teach you how to handle more than just battle tactics..."

Tabitha answered with a lascivious leer "With this much liquor there's no telling what else they handled last night!"

Theresa stopped the private grin on her own face. 'At least they'll have someone else ta talk about 'cept Jimmy an' me, now,' she thought, but managed a "Tab, please...Nothing's wrong, and anyway, it's none of our business. You people really need ta get lives. Now, Cal, for such good work would ye like a Pop-tart?"

"Caliban loves Pop-tarts!"


Part 10

She moved quickly, fluidly, without really thinking about her movements. Her muscles knew what to do, and with very little conscious effort she dispatched the danger room holographic goons with ease. They were fighting in a deserted building, with no civilians present, so there was no need to contain the damage or worry about innocents. She sighed. This was just too damn easy. 'I'm barely even breaking a sweat,' she groused. 'Not enough effort involved to make me quit thinking about things- I need something with a little kick.'

As she stretched she calmly used her authorization code as team leader of X-Force to remove the safety overrides and started over. The environment shifted, and became a dark city street littered with garbage and rubble, with a few winos huddled in alleyways. Now the opponents were much fiercer. They came at her with a slick mechanical precision and she had to use all the considerable resources at her disposal to avoid being hurt, or worse. This time, she knew the game was for real - and as she smoothly spun and fired a plasma burst at a looming Sentinel, she also knew that she wouldn't have it any other way.

He walked down the corridor at a brisk pace. New York had been nice, and he'd decided to keep the apartment there for a while, but it was really good to be home. He hadn't told anyone he was coming, just used his security codes to enter the gate and chatted with Gumbo for a few minutes when he walked in the front door. Gambit had monitor duty that day and had for a change actually paid attention to the job. Seeing the Harley drive up, he'd met him at the door with a brisk bear hug and one of his own personal stash of fine Cuban cigars as a welcome home gift.

Logan inhaled deeply as he walked down the hall. Good stuff- he was glad his healing factor was back up to snuff so he could enjoy it properly. 'Who'd'a thought the Cajun would be glad ta see me one day?' he grinned, recalling their less than cordial first days as teammates. He walked up the stairs to his room, swung his bags inside the door, and turned around. It'd been a long ride and he was hungry, but he needed to stretch his muscles a bit first.

He walked by the danger room and swore slightly at the 'occupied' sign. 'I've got plenty o' time,' he consoled himself. 'I'll just go to the observation room and watch- maybe pick up some pointers,' he grinned, knowing very well that no one in the mansion could beat him in one-on-one combat.

Entering the room, he found a comfortable sat and propped his legs on the instrumentation. He looked down into the room, and blinked in surprise- instead of the Romper Room (though still impossibly difficult for a normal human, he conceded) he'd been half expecting, this was a real workout. Someone had disengaged the safety overrides, and was actually doing some serious fighting. 'Scott'd have three ducks and a baby octopus,' Logan chuckled, knowing that such a procedure was strictly forbidden. He grinned when he saw who it was - her slight figure had been hidden from his sight by the Sentinel, and the sealed Shi'ar room played havoc with his senses, but he should've suspected it to be her - he'd known her a long time, and she'd never been one to abide by pansy rules.

She was firing rounds directly in the face of the huge machine reaching for her, snarling curses and, Logan knew, having one hell of a good time. Her face was covered with streaks of blood from a gaping cut right under her hairline and her uniform was ripped in a dozen places, but from the state of disrepair of the two Sentinels around her he knew she was doing just fine. She leaped over the huge hand, twisting, and eluded the grasp of the nearest Sentinel, changing weapons in mid air. She swung up on its thumb, leapt again, and took off its head with a well-placed plasma burst.

Logan leaned back in the chair and took another deep drag of the cigar. 'Not bad at all, Dom,' he admitted, and crossed his arms over his head, watching every move 'Haven't lost yer touch, girl.'

She didn't even pause, only shifted weapons again, racing behind the remaining behemoth to reach up and place a wad of plastique behind each of its knees. She then sprinted to the corner of the room, darted behind a holographic car where she'd earlier herded the winos, and waited. The ensuing explosion rocked the room. Still leaning, Logan crossed his arms over his head and watched. 'This is better than the picture show,' he grinned ferally 'Wish I had some popcorn.'

She ran back across the room, hurling mockeries at the wriggling two-story torso. She bounded across its chest, dropped a thermal grenade, and spun away to return to the relative safety of behind the car.

After it was all over, she exited the program. As the holographic images faded, she gathered her gear, a pleased smile gracing her face. Logan watched from the observation room, mentally applauding her. 'Neena, ya still got it where it counts. Cable's a lucky man.' She walked across the room to the exit, ruined uniform baring generous expanses of skin. 'In more ways than one,' Logan grinned, then half-heartedly chastised himself for thinking such about an old friend.

He met her in the debriefing room as she was passing through. Her eyes widened in surprise, but her voice was impassive as always. "Hey, Logan. How ya doin'?"

He grinned in gruff pride. "Good ta see you, too, kid. Ya did good down there- looks like you did pay attention ta me at least *some* of the time."

She allowed herself an amused smile. "You were watching?"

He nodded. "Yep. An' don't worry, I won't tell Scoot or anybody else that ya turned off the safety overrides. I knew ya could handle it."

Her eyes narrowed. "Frankly, Logan, I don't care if you tell Captain Kangaroo, the Impossible Man, OR any of the flonquing Summerses - Cyclops, Nate, any of 'em. They're all probably related anyhow. Screw the whole bunch, I don't give a shit."

Logan quirked his lips sympathetically. "I take it Cable's screwed up again."

She looked down at him and sighed. "Yeah- he really has. I'm gettin' too old to be bothered by this shit, Logan."

He shook his head gently "You never get too old to be bothered by that sorta thing, darlin'. Now do me a favor and let me run through that program of yours- it looked kinda interestin'."

She grinned at him "Only if I get to watch, old man."

He leered playfully at her "Oh, ya like ta watch, do ya?"

She laughed lightly and shook her head "Actually, no, but that's immaterial. Now get your hairy rear in there and let's see if you can beat my time."

Cable sat in a huge recliner in one of the rec rooms, idly watching television. He had the sound off, and the silence was wonderful- the pounding in his head had at least faded to a dull ache, and he was finally relaxing. Today had been horrible- another awful day in what was shaping up to be a horrible week. Dom had given him the cold shoulder all day, rightfully so, he admitted, but he just couldn't bring himself to apologize. For now, though, he could almost make himself forget all about it and drift off into a deep, relaxing nap...

"Nathan! There you are! I have been looking for you. Get up- it is too early to rest!" Storm's lilting voice penetrated the benevolent fog of sleep. She walked in the room and sat opposite him in an oaken rocking chair. She held two envelopes in her left hand, and snapped her fingers at him with her right. "Nathan! Wake up!"

He groaned and turned away from her, mentally wishing she'd go away. The imperious demands of a self-proclaimed goddess were not particularly pleasant during a power nap. She continued speaking to him, her voice growing increasingly irate, until he turned around. "Oh...hello, Ororo," he mumbled, trying to suppress his annoyance.

She leaned forward, smiling at him "Hello! Are you not glad I woke you up, Nathan? It is still such a glorious day!"

He rubbed his eyes, headache returned full-force. 'This is not good,' he thought, 'I haven't had migraines like this since puberty-' Seeing her, he replied "Oh. Yeah, sure. Uh, listen, Ororo, I've gotta check something out. I'll see you at supper-" He stood up and stretched, rubbing his temple, and walked toward the door.

She looked at him curiously "Is anything wrong, Nathan? May I help?" She looked up at him, blue eyes widened in concern.

"Just a headache, Ororo, but thanks. I'll be fine- just going to see if Hank can give me something for it." He reached down and grabbed his baseball cap from the table end where he'd taken it off to nap.

She pursed her lips in disapproval. "It is not good to rely on pharmaceuticals, Nathan," she began. "The body heals itself much better when free from foreign influences like drugs-"

He breathed in deeply and broke off her lecture. "You're probably right. I'll see you later." Before she could reply, he spun on his heels and left the room. Ororo shrugged her shoulders and opened her mail.

Hank was busily putting away some instruments when Cable came through the door. The blue-furred Beast rubbed his hands together in mock glee and said with his best mad-scientist laugh "And what can I do for YOU today?"

Cable winced at his booming tone "Please, Hank, I have an awful headache-"

The good Doctor raised a sapphire eyebrow "I'll forego the cliched 'take two aspirin' response, knowing that you wouldn't dream of invading my beloved lab unless it was serious - please, Nathan, have a seat."

Motioning to the examination table, Hank continued "It must be the day for it. Your lovely partner was just in here complaining of much the same problem. Of course, that rather large gash on her forehead could explain some of her pain, but she said it had been bothering her all week..." Hank prattled on, oblivious to the expression on Nathan's face.

"What? Domino was in here? What's wrong with her?" Cable grabbed Hank's forearm a bit too roughly.

"Ho there! Release mine appendage and we can talk!" Henry raised made a face at the offending hand, and Nathan released it. "Sorry. Just- Sorry. Tell me, Henry, is she alright? What's wrong with her?" His voice was thick with concern.

"She's fine, Nathan, there's nothing wrong. I assumed you'd already seen her, or else I'd've said nothing." His voice was now soothing, sincere. "Just a cut from a danger room sequence- I stitched it up, it won't even leave a scar. I do it all the time. Though, I must say," and now his tone was all business "I am concerned that she wouldn't allow me to give her physical. I should have a complete medical examination on file for everyone who lives here, but she adamantly refuses. She'll come in to have me stitch things up, but that's about it. Surely, you can talk to her?"

Nathan's tone was soft. "She doesn't like examinations very much," closing his eyes at one particularly gruesome memory, one time where he got her out a little too late. "I won't...I can't say much more than that, but- don't push it, Hank. It says a lot that she trusts you to do as much as you do."

Hank nodded, understanding dawning in his soft blue eyes. "I'm gland," he whispered, then returned his voice to its former jocularity. "So, you have a headache, hmm? Tell me all about it."


Part 11

"Nathan, I have little doubt that these headaches are exactly what you say they are- stress-induced migraines. I can write a prescription for the pain, if you like, but given the nature of your abilities I must recommend an additional procedure." Dr. Henry McCoy's handsome blue-furred face was studiously neutral, but the staccato beat tapped on the examination table by one sharp claw betrayed his concern.

Nathan, baseball cap clenched tightly in one hand, growled suspiciously "What kind of 'procedure'?" As much as he respected Hank's expertise, he was well aware that the X-Men's resident biochemist and physician had a distinct proclivity for excessive testing and experimentation.

Raising a protesting hand, the doctor chuckled ruefully "Nothing too traumatic, I assure you. You should be well aware that it is now standard procedure with telepaths in cases like this to conduct a full psi-scan to verify that there is no psychic wound that conventional examinations would fail to turn up. After Onslaught, we're not taking any more chances." Blue eyes met brown in shared sorrow, and neither voiced the unspoken 'If only...'

The older man ran his fingers through thick silver hair, then nodded. "You're absolutely right- that's the least we can do. When can we begin?"

The tapping changed rhythm as Hank considered. "The sooner the better. Of course we need another telepath, and Betsy and Jean are both very well versed in the technique. Pretty much any skilled telepath will do- it's just a matter of whomever you feel more comfortable with."

Remembering his encounter with Psylocke earlier in the week, Nathan frowned. 'Definitely not that bitch.' "Definitely Jean," he decided.

Hank smiled. "I thought as much. In fact, I was going to suggest our beloved Jeannie- shared genetics on top of the familial bond you two share should make this procedure a proverbial snap! If you're ready now, I'll go ahead and call her in-"

"Allright. Let's get this thing over with."

She delicately picked through her 'son's' mind, careful to preserve as much of his privacy as possible. Some images were impossible to ignore, but she sailed through them as best she could. Even in great pain, his TO mesh was stabilized, and she allowed herself a proud smile. 'Redd' had taught him well.

She winced as her gentle probing set off another wave of pain. One thing was certain- the disturbance was definitely psionic in nature. His entire mindscape was bruised. 'No wonder he's got a headache,' Jean ground her teeth as she scanned his mind .'This is not good - hmmm...what's this?' The damage seemed particularly severe around a recently shielded area of Nathan's mind. Anticipating the possibility of her encountering shields, Nathan had granted her permission to look beyond them if necessary, so she felt no compunctions against removing the shielding to examine what was inside. He'd told her "You're the only telepath I trust enough to allow that, Jean." She'd understood, and warmed slightly at the memory.

Focusing her attention, she began carefully peeling away layers of shielding. 'Classic defensive shield,' she noted clinically. 'Thrown up rather hastily, too.' She reinforced her psionic armor, took a deep breath, and removed the final layer. 'Oh my stars and garters,' she breathed, borrowing her teammate's favorite exclamation. A huge psionic blister was at the center of the bruising- puckered and oozing, it radiated pain. She narrowed her eyes and set to work.

Two hours later, she sat up wearily and took the proffered glass of juice. "Thanks, Hank. How is he?" Separated only by the Beast's considerable bulk, she and Nathan rested on identical examination tables in the med-lab, both hooked up to Shi'ar monitoring equipment.

"He appears to be fine, Jean, though I was beginning to worry- had you been out five minutes longer, I would have called Betsy in to pull you out." They'd kept Psylocke on call just in case- with her newly acquired ability to travel through shadows, she was available at a moment's notice. "Tell me...what did you find?" Hank busied himself removing electrodes, considerable intellect focused on the problem at hand.

Jean described the blister and the psionic damage it had caused "I was finally able to repair it. Though incredibly painful, the wound wasn't really all that serious- I believe it would have healed itself eventually. There should be no permanent damage."

"What would have healed itself eventually?" Nathan struggled to sit up. "Jean- what was it?"

She inhaled deeply and swung her legs off of the table, holding on to Hank's strong arm for balance. "Nathan- do you remember a discussion we had a few days ago about you needing to develop better shielding?"

His face flushed slightly. "Yes."

"I apologize for that now. You're psi-linked to someone, aren't you?" Hank's presence made her choose her words carefully.

He nodded, and she continued. "Apparently, you suffered some sort of mental backlash through that link- probably totally unexpected, and of incredible intensity or the link itself would have buffered the transmission. The intense shock caused a...well, for lack of a better term a psionic blister. You instinctively threw up shields, but the blister itself remained untreated and was the source of your headaches. I repaired the worst of the damage, but you'll need to keep an eye on it yourself until it's completely healed. There won't be any permanent harm, since your shields handled the brunt of the pain. This case is hardly unique- Scott and I have both had similar experiences, though neither with damage as severe as this one." She stood to leave.

Hank took her hand and kissed it. "Many thanks, fair Jeannie."

She grinned, "Don't let Scott see such chivalry - Summers men are incredibly jealous." Pointedly raising an eyebrow at Nathan, she walked out. 'By the way,' he heard as she turned the corner 'You may want to talk to Hank about scheduling another procedure for Domino later- that backlash burned through both ends of the link, and since as a non-psi she doesn't have the caliber of shielding you do, she's probably got a hell of a headache, even worse than yours. Call me when you talk her into it.'

Noting Beast's wry look, Nathan sighed. "Even if I weren't telepathic, I can read your mind, Hank. You're right- the psi-link's with Dom, which explains her headaches, too. Yeah, I guess we need to call her in. Jean says that as a non-psi the damage will be more severe for her, but still manageable." The trepidation in his tone was unmistakable. 'This is not going to be easy.' The doctor's reply was a very succinct, professional

"Okey-Dokey."

"You want me to do WHAT?" Domino's jaw dropped slightly in disbelief quickly replaced with a cold "Uh-uh. No way. Ain't gonna happen."

Hank sighed. "Please, Domino- I've explained what happened-in great detail, I might add. The headache is caused by psionic damage. The only way to repair said damage is to allow a telepath in. It's as simple as that."

Domino scowled "I like you, Hank, I do, which is why I came to you in the first place. I do NOT like doctors, I do NOT like hospitals, and I do NOT like strange telepaths pokin' around in my head! The only person I trust enough to do that is Nate and we're not even on speaking terms right now, much less thinking terms!" Beast almost interrupted to tell her that Jean was certainly not a 'strange' telepath, but saw the dangerous glint in her eyes and thought better of it.

Nathan had been conspicuously silent. He winced at her last sentence, but said nothing. Hank studied her for a moment, then blinked in sudden understanding. 'My goodness! She's actually scared! All that belligerence is disguising a genuine fear-' He held out his hand, palm up, and changed tactics.

"Domino- you are an adult. I cannot force you to submit to this procedure, nor would I. I appreciate the faith you've placed in me as your physician, but the decision is ultimately yours. I've explained what's necessary to repair the damage- it's up to you to decide whether or not to accept the offer of assistance. I highly recommend it, but in the end your wishes will be respected."

She looked suspicious for a moment then relaxed. In a calmer voice she replied "Thanks, Hank. Can you give me a minute?" He smiled gently, baring a gleaming canine. "Let me know when you make a decision. I'll be in my office."

Cable stood to leave as well. She twisted a thick shock of hair around her forefinger. "Nate- wait a minute." He stopped shortly, then stared at her. "What do you want, Dom?"

He met her surly gaze. "How did this happen?" she demanded, and in a pedantic tone he began the same description that Jean had given him and that McCoy had given her. She stopped him mid-stream. "I understand that, Nate, damn! Give me *some* credit. I meant- why? When did this happen? Did you cause it or did I? I don't understand-"

He sat back down on one of the tables. "Dom...do you remember the other night when I accused you of sleeping around?"

She arched a wry eyebrow, but he saw the anger still smouldering in her eyes. "How could I forget? You're always so sweet to me."

He avoided her eyes. "Yeah, well, I wasn't just being possessive- the other night, when you stayed out, I felt everything. When you were... with him, I felt it. I didn't try, I swear, it wasn't a conscious thing. It just...happened. One minute I was just sitting in my room, and the next I'm right in the middle of the biggest orgasm I've had in years - mind and body both on fire. And afterwards, my head feels like it's gonna explode- but I guess you understand that part, too. It's felt like that, on and off, all week until Jean repaired the damage today."

Her eyes widened "You mean you...Oh, shit, Nathan, how embarrassing." She looked down at her feet. "You felt everything?" she asked softly.

His voice was rough "I felt enough."

She looked up "I was entitled, Nathan. Might I remind you that you 'had plans' that night?" He groaned "Don't remind me." She shook her head "Uh-uh. I will remind you- you were out with Storm that night, so you have no right to expect me to sit at home. I'm an adult, Nathan - don't presume to judge me. You don't have that right."

He glared at her "I have every right not to expect you to screw the first man you find willing!" He stopped short "Oh, shit Dom, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that, I know it wasn't like that. I just-" He grabbed her shoulders and bent down to face her. "Dom, imagine yourself in my position right then - feeling that, feeling you, but knowing it wasn't me you were with-" She broke his hold and stepped back from him, her face even paler than usual.

She started to answer him, but stopped and put her hand to her temple. 'Damn, it hurts-' He opened his eyes, amazed that she hadn't taken head off. He saw her close her eyes against the pain and he felt traces of it still lingering in his own mind. "Hurts worse when we argue, doesn't it? I think that's because the link is trying to fire up- Dom, please- I'm sorry." He drew back at the look of fury on her face.

She muttered "I gotta sit down-" He rose to help her, but she shook him off "I have a headache, Nathan, I can still walk." She stumbled very slightly, almost unnoticeably, then righted herself. He reached over to steady her, but she snarled "Leave me alone! I'm fine, dammit!" He stood beside her, worry etched across his face. Her expression softened very slightly "I'm fine, Nate. And," she promised "You'll pay for that one day -" 'Just not today,' she groaned, the pain more intense than ever. She sat down opposite him on the other examining table, eyes squinting against the light- even the slightest bit was agony. "Hank!" she bellowed "Get in here!"

He appeared immediately, for he was listening on the intercom to their discussion, ostensibly so he'd know in the future how to convince her to accept treatment. He silently bemoaned the fact that Doctor-Patient Confidentiality prevented him from sharing this particularly juicy bit of gossip with the others. ''Partners' indeed!' he grinned. 'Is information obtained when eavesdropping on your patients considered confidential?' he wondered jokingly, but was careful to keep the thought heavily shielded. It was only a joke- he knew that he could never betray his ideals or his patients and friends trust.

His face was composed as he entered the room "Yes?" His brow furrowed when he saw Domino. He bounded across the room and perched on the corner of the bed "My dear, are you alright? Your face is positively ashen-"

She cut him off "I'm fine, Hank, and I'm gonna do it. Do me a favor, though? Let's get this done quickly- I've got work to do."

Hank nodded, hiding a triumphant grin, and went to the other room to call Jean. Domino and Nathan were alone. For a moment neither spoke, then she broke the silence.

"I'm doing this on one condition, Nate." He answered softly "And what is that?" She bit her lip unconsciously. "That you'll be in there with Jean- I like her, but I don't trust anyone but you alone in my mind. There's a lot of dark stuff there, and, well...You've gotta promise me that you won't let her see anything she shouldn't." She stared at the wall, hands shading her sensitive eyes.

He swallowed "You got it."


Part 12

She opened her eyes and the room swam into focus. The sedative was beginning to wear off, and except for a feeling of complete and utter exhaustion she felt fine. The once debilitating headache was reduced to only phantom traces of pressure, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Nathan, Betsy and Jean were huddled in a tight circle in a far corner of the lab. They were obviously communicating psionically, and the silence was deafening. They were in wordless debate over something, and the shared look of disdain on Psylocke and Jean's faces made it patently obvious that she wasn't the only woman Nate had pissed off today. She smirked but kept quiet.

Hank bustled around her, checking the various monitoring devices attached to regulate her body functions during the procedure. Without warning, the room began to swim, and she felt a wave of nausea sweep over her body. Suppressing the bile, she tried to call Hank to her bedside but before the before the words came out she saw her reflection in the concave mirror hanging over the stainless steel medical sink. She gagged.

Multi-colored wires and electrodes were attached to her face, chest and arms. Blackness sparkled around the edge of her vision, and all of the darkness, the horror of her past rose up together to claim what little peace she'd created for herself. Memories stirred by the psi-surgery swam to the front of her mind, sparking an instinctive reaction so immediate that her conscious mind wasn't even aware of it. Throat constricting and heart hammering within her chest, she bolted upright, disrupting the monitor readings. Hank, seeing the readings spike, spun around to check on her but instead of seeing his handsome visage panic took over and her haunted memory supplied another face.

She ripped the wires off and leaped off the bed, drugs and exhaustion only slightly hampering skills honed by years of battle. She rushed at Hank, screaming obscenities, and levelled a high kick to his jaw. His own reflexes made him jerk back just in time for the blow to only glance off the side of his chin.

She leapt over the examining table, filled with red rage. "You sonuvabitch! What're you doing to me now? I killed you once - I'll kill you again if I have to!" She darted across the room and grabbed a hideously sharp instrument from a nearby counter, slicing her hand in the process. She didn't flinch, merely shifted hands and sprang at Hank, who had fortunately recovered enough from the shock to have moved a safe distance away from its gleaming blade.

Cable crossed the room in an instant, Betsy and Jean only slightly behind him. 'You should have anticipated this- Idiot! Her damage was so much more severe than mine, and the repairs shook up all kinds of dark memories- Glad I was there to keep 'em from Jean.' He snorted 'Jean, right, keep them from Jean. I was supposed to protect her, dammit! She asked me to, and I couldn't do it!' Guilt pricked at him, mingling with fear. It hadn't been easy, reliving the darkness of her memories, but he knew that his uneasiness was nothing next to the terror that she was reliving now.

Domino spun around and narrowed her eyes at Hank. She shifted the surgical knife so that she held it by her fingertips and threw it in one fluid motion. Blade spinning, it sliced through the air in a direct line to Hank's throat.

Her motions were so rapid that Hank barely had time to register them, much less time to dart out of the way. His eyes flew open, but before he had time to move away the knife froze in mid air about a foot away from his throat. He gasped once, his whole body sagging. 'Thank You, sweet Lord,' he sent the quick thought upward.

Cable was breathing rapidly, holding a hand to his temple. 'Barely made it,' he sighed in relief. 'If I hadn't known her so long, known that when she grabbed that knife and wasn't close enough to slash, known that...' He didn't want to think about what would have happened. He knew from long experience just how good her aim was. He cursed the fact that it had taken him so long to work up the telekinetic strength to stop her, for the surgeries had weakened him as well. Thankfully, he'd been quick enough to prevent any serious harm.

Pink and purple haloes of energy formed around the respective heads of his companions as she released the knife, but as soon as it left her fingers Domino froze. The disorienting jumble of memories dispersed and the anger fled, leaving a strange clarity in their wake. She lowered her hands and surveyed the room coolly. Seeing her transformation, everyone was standing stock still, though still in defensive postures, she noted. The monitors blared shrill klaxon screams, her makeshift bed was overturned and Hank stood gasping in the corner, a bloodied surgical instrument hanging in the air about a foot from his neck. Betsy and Jean both wore expressions of concern, and Nate- hell, Nate was just staring at her, for once his emotions painfully obvious for all to see.

She raised her hands, bewildered, and scowled "What? What do you people want?" When no one answered, she shrugged. Amused at their stunned expressions, she just glanced at her hand in annoyance and said "Why is my flonquing hand bleeding, Nate?"


Part 13

She rose gracefully from the heavy oaken rocking chair, clenching the beige envelope in an angry fist. Outside, the sky darkened and she calmed herself forcibly. 'Surely there is some mistake. My Kitten would never betray Peter by besmirching herself with some strange man-' She smoothed the crumpled paper. 'Perhaps I am not thinking clearly- I am concerned about Nathan. Why did he leave so abruptly? He has not felt well lately, true, but that is no excuse for rudeness. Ah well, I will speak with him about it later. Now, let me see about Kitty...'

She smoothed the crumpled paper and began reading again. The small, precise script took up four and a half pages, but Ororo skimmed through the majority of it. She would read the parts about the Uncreated and Black Air, about the Dragons of the Crimson Dawn- about all of Excalibur's missions later. She wanted news of Peter- she'd been so excited when they'd learned that he'd joined Excalibur. She just knew that he and Kitty would reconcile, and her Kitten and 'little brother' would finally be happy together as they'd always been meant to be. She anxiously turned the pages, searching for the paragraph that had upset her so. Surely she'd misunderstood Kitty's words, but no, there it was...

Ororo, I'm so happy. I've met someone- we've actually been seeing each other for some time now, but I made Kurt and the others promise to let me be the one to tell you when the time was right. He's wonderful- crude and crass and obnoxious and annoying- that's Pete Wisdom. I know I should have told you sooner, but...Pete asked me to hold off until I was sure, as he put it, that "I'm bloody well going to keep him around." Well, I'm sure. I love him, and he loves me. I know you'll be happy for us, and I can't wait for you to meet him, Ororo. He takes a bit of getting used to, but...now I can't imagine life without him.

Not a word about Peter! And this...this Wisdom person - who does he think he is, interfering with Kitty and Piotyr like that? He would not keep her children apart- not if she had anything to do with it. She smoothed more wrinkles out of the paper and folded it back into its envelope. She didn't bother opening the other- a subscription notice from one of her gardening magazines- but merely tucked both letters under her arm and walked purposefully toward one of the computer information rooms. She had a little research of her own to do before she talked to Kitty about this Wisdom.

She paced the corridor furiously. It was worse than she'd imagined - far worse. This Wisdom was disgusting. She'd spend the past several hours had been spent poring over logs and records gathered by the Professor's extensive web of contacts as well as through the various government databases the sophisticated X-men technology had unknown access to.

She ground her teeth together, and fat drops of rain splashed against the roof of the mansion. A thunderstorm had rolled over Westchester earlier that afternoon and had gotten progressively worse as Ororo learned more about Pete Wisdom's past.

How could Kitty even think of consorting with that...that person! And how could Kurt and Moira permit him to actually join Excalibur? It physically revolted her to think of the things that this man had done. Granted, she had gone through a dark time in her life as well, but...surely a punker hairdo and outfit were nothing next to the evil that man had been party to! Black Air...she shuddered. The name itself was evocative of everything she despised- pollution and corruption of body and mind. This man had been one of the agency's best operatives, she'd learned. Black Air had operations all over the globe, most highly illegal and morally questionable. There were even some files so tightly encoded that even the X-men's Shi'ar decrypting programs couldn't crack- and who knew what they contained, what else he'd done? She finally decided that she didn't know and didn't care. She only knew that whatever it cost she could get her Kitten out of the clutches of that foul man before he ruined her chances of happiness with Piotyr forever.

She decided that she couldn't confront Kitty directly- she would wrongfully assume that Ororo didn't trust her. 'Which is not true,' Ororo protested. 'I trust her completely, but she is a still a child. I know what is best for her.' She nodded, remembering the thirteen year old Kitty dancing, dark eyes gleaming with suppressed mischief. Kitty needed someone to look after her best interests, and who was better qualified for the task than Ororo? The thought that Kitty was now almost twenty and no longer a child never entered her mind.

Satisfied by this logic, she considered who else to speak to. Kurt, of course, she knew him well enough to feel comfortable asking him to intervene for her. She could certainly ask Piotyr as well, but hesitated - he was so sensitive, and she did not want to get his hopes up until she was certain she had enough support to turn Kitty away from this horrible man for good. Kitty had hurt him enough already. Unfortunately, though, when she called Excalibur that afternoon Kurt was out. He wasn't expected back for another few days, but she left a message with Meggan anyway. She considered asking Meggan her opinion, but decided against it- she barely knew the girl.

She continued down the corridor, considering her options. She had the nagging suspicion that she needed to speak to Moira, but Moira never took the time to speak with any of the X-men anymore - not even Sean. Though she called the mansion frequently to discuss Legacy data, the only person she spoke with for any length of time was Henry. The idea hit so quickly that she stopped dead in her tracks. Henry! He talked to Moira all the time, and Ororo knew from personal experience how very easy he was to talk to. Perhaps in all of their discussions Moira had spoken of Excalibur's newest member. Perhaps. She pivoted, and unable to contain a faint smirk walked quickly down the hall to the Med-lab.


Part 14

"Why is my flonquing hand bleeding, Nate?" She looked up at him with her usual cockiness, and his heart skipped a beat in relief. Quirking his mouth in a grin, he replied in the same glib manner.

"Well, Dom, it's bleeding because you decided it was time we put Hank out of his misery. You got a little overeager and cut your hand." He cocked his head at the Beast, who was gingerly plucking the still-suspended knife from the air. He held the blade to the light, gulped, and walked over to where they stood, making sure to keep Nathan's considerable bulk between himself and the dubious Domino.

He managed a slight grin. "My dear, I know that despite their cuddly furriness my phalanges can be quite chilly at times, and I understand that my bedside manner is considered by some overbearing, but is that really any reason to, as Nathan so delicately put it, put me out of my misery?" Nathan gratefully tried to explain what had just happened. 'Thanks for playing along, Hank- I hope you know that she wasn't trying to hurt you. Her damage was much more severe than mine, that's why the procedure lasted so much longer and we had to call Betsy in. It shook up all kinds of traumatic memories, and... As unpredictable as I admit Dom can be I promise she would never consciously try to do anything like that to a friend.' Hank gently lay the knife on a countertop, buying time to compose his response. 'I understand, Nathan- thank you for explaining it to me, but I am still a little shaken. It's not every day that a patient mistakes me for a voodoo doll...'

Domino put a hand to her hip. "Hank, have you been writing prescriptions for yourself again? Why in the world would I try to...." She trailed off as memories long suppressed slowly returned. Her albino skin flushed and she grabbed a nearby chair for support.

"Oh shit...I remember...oh...." She looked up at Nathan with haunted eyes "I thought he was one of Tolliver's doctors...I remember now..." Cable groaned at the thought of what horrors his son had done to her during the year he held her captive. Apparently she had even more reasons for hating doctors than he thought. Swallowing hard, he grabbed an arm to steady her but she shrugged him off and staggered over to the remaining table and leaned against it.

She looked at Hank sorrowfully and chose her words carefully. Her speech was uncharacteristically formal. "I am very sorry for my behavior. It was unconscionable, and I apologize."

Embarrassed, Hank shook his head, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in sympathy. "Forget about it. It takes more than that to stop the bouncing Beast- now may I have your permission to bandage your hand without risking harm to my beauteous blue bod?" He waggled his eyes at her. She agreed with a tight smile that didn't touch her eyes.

He worked quickly, and when he was done she stepped quickly away from him. Using the same stilted tone as before, she asked "May I have a moment to myself, please?" Despite her quiet words every telepath in the room had to raise their respective shields as protection against the increasingly intense barrage of tortured emotions emanating from her.

Betsy and Jean glanced at each other, communicating silently in a manner far more rapid and precise than conventional speech. 'Think she'll be alright?' 'Alright? With shit like that floating through her brain? You know better, Betsy.'

A small sigh 'I know better than most. I think, though, that that outburst was just an instinctive reaction to the trauma-'

'I think so, too. I had no idea repairing the damage would have caused such a severe reaction or we'd have handled it very differently.'

'I know - you did nothing wrong. Just be grateful that Nathan was there to keep the worst of it at bay.'

'Thank God for that. If this had happened in the middle of the surgery...'

They both shuddered.

'I just scanned her, Jean- she's about to lose control, but that's probably a good thing. Her mind's a bloody untidy place right now -'

Jean mentally agreed.' After all that, I'd say a catharsis is definitely in order.'

'Agreed.'

Jean linked her arm through Hank's and led him to the door. "Alright, Domino...Call us if you need anything." Hank opened his mouth to protest but closed it abruptly as Betsy gave him the mental equivalent of a kick in the rear. 'We'll explain shortly, Hank, just come on!' As the three left the room, through an increasingly dark haze of memory Domino heard a soft British mindvoice 'I know what you're going through- I've been there before and I know what it's like. Remember that you've already survived this- these are just memories, just shadows. Now come through it again...' She couldn't bring herself to answer- it took very ounce of energy she possessed just to maintain her composure until everyone had left the room. She refused to let them see her break- she'd already lost enough dignity today. No matter what it cost she wouldn't, couldn't betray anymore of herself than she already had.

Nathan made no movement to leave, just stared at her, jaw clenched tight as she half begged, half commanded "Nate...please go..." Her fists clenched "Dammit, I mean it! I really, really need a little 'me' time now, Nathan... Just go away."

He shook his head. "Na-huh. Sorry, Dom...If I didn't leave you in China, Genosha, hell...name a country- I'm not gonna leave you now." He slowly lowered his telepathic shields but had to turn away for a moment, buffeted by the sheer force of the images she was trying her best to keep in check. "Oh, Dom," he whispered, "Babe, I'm here. Please..." She shuddered once, spat out "Don't call me babe," then he felt the break. Everything she'd been holding back suddenly burst through the thin veneer of composure, dark horror bubbling to the surface of her mind in an almost tangible black film. She let out a keening wail, and he had to take a step back from the onslaught of pure tortured hatred. He ground his teeth against the pain but refused to raise his shields.

She stared at the wall, glassy-eyed. In halting tones she whispered "I remember now. Not just Tolliver, but everything- Nate, I thought I'd blocked it up, kept it out, but it's all here. Everything I did, everyone I killed, every life I...." She choked "Everything they did to...trapped, Tolliver, oh, damn, the hounds," Tears streaming down her face, she wrapped her arms around herself and began slowly rocking back and forth. Her voice broke "They all think I'm cold, Nate, so cold, such a heartless bitch, that I don't care, don't care, don't care, don't care," She gasped "Griz, Milo, they knew better but now they're dead, dead, dead...oh shit, I killed them they're dead," She kept on, a cracked litany of pain and guilt that built and built until he quite simply couldn't take it any more.

Crying out, he crushed her against his chest, holding her tight against the pain. She muffled a hoarse scream and pounded her fists against his hard chest, trying desperately to break loose. He winced in pain but held her close, refusing to let her go even though she snarled curses in a dozen languages and threatened to kill, kill, KILL herself, him, and especially them all in ways that started even him. He held her tight as she released her frustration and fury in the only way she could. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the rage subsidised, leaving only exhaustion and a faint echo of fear in its wake. She shivered, and he breathed a genuine prayer of thanks to heaven- for if she'd really wanted to free herself or hurt either of them, he knew she could have done it. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he led her back to the table and helped her up. For once she didn't protest but simply followed, permitting his assistance.

Several minutes had passed when she stopped staring dully at the floor. She raised her eyes but couldn't meet his gaze. He was sitting beside her, their bodies close but not quite touching. She finally looked up at him and with her old irreverence mustered a slight grin "Your fly is open."

"Good," he replied, and turned his head to face her. "Helps air me out after that workout." She rolled her eyes and smiled, muttering "notenoughtoneedmuchofaworkout." Stifling a grin, he took her hand. "You gonna be alright, Dom?"

She nodded, but he could see the shadows in her eyes. "I'll be fine, Nate. Trust me."

He squeezed her hand and released it. "That's my line."

She looked away for a moment, then smiled slightly. "I hate it when you say that, too."

He whispered "I know."

They sat like that a few moments, then Domino broke the silence. "Thanks, Nate."

He tilted his head in surprise. "What for?"

She growled "For this, dumb ass. For keeping me from actually killing Hank, for one thing. For getting me through this shit."

He snorted "Dom, we've both been way worse off than this. This ain't the first time, girl. We've done this for each other a thousand times, and you know it. We're just gettin' soft in our old age." He toyed with a tear on the sheet covering they sat on.

She raised an eyebrow. "Old, hell- speak for yourself. I'm in my prime, and you know it." She put a hand on his arm and continued "But I'm serious for once, Nate. This was a bad one- I think I'd have been better off keeping the headache instead of trading it in for this little jaunt down nightmare lane." She swore under her breath "Oh, hell. I hadn't thought of that- they're gonna start up again, aren't they?"

He blinked "Nightmares?"

She nodded.

He took a deep breath. It wasn't fair to lie to her about this. "Probably."

She grimaced "Lovely. Just lovely. Oh well, you win some, you lose some..."

He started to agree with her but was interrupted by a very familiar, very icy voice.

"Win some, lose some what? Oh, hello, Nathan. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Have either of you seen Hank today?"


Part 15

Nathan jerked away from her as if burned. Jumping to his feet, he stammered "Ororo! Hello! Uh...uh...no, of course not. Hank just left-" He glanced casually between the two women and wished he hadn't. The expressions on both of their faces had been known to make lesser men soil themselves.

Domino sighed, eyes hooded with disappointment and anger. 'Damn, Nate, I thought the past few days would have taught you to stand your ground one way or the other. After what we just went through, you're still playing games? Alright.' She clamped her jaw in resignation. 'If that's the way you wanna play it, fine.'

Ororo stood imperiously, arms crossed over her chest, clutching two unfortunate envelopes tightly in one clenched fist. "I see," she muttered darkly. "I wished to speak to him about some business, but perhaps it can wait until another time." She didn't even bother to look at Domino, just focused a cold stare on Nathan who was 'casually' picking at his fingernails, studiously avoiding both of their gazes.

Domino interrupted with a loud snort. "Well," she grinned humorlessly. "I don't know about you two, but I'm getting a little tired of this shit." Ororo blinked in surprise at her abrupt tone but Cable stood stock still, mentally whimpering 'Oh please Dom, not now, you're too tired, I'm too tired, oh let's don't get into this right now please. Please - Apocalypse, Stryfe, anybody, please! you can have me, you can have me, no struggle, just come get me out of here. now. please.'

At their stunned expressions she raised a wry eyebrow "Oh, come now, Storm- and you, too, Nate. We're all adults, we can discuss this thing civilly."

Storm cocked her head, regarding the other woman in a new light. 'Obviously she realizes what's going on between myself and Nathan and is stepping out of the way- I hadn't given her credit for that much intelligence.' "You're absolutely right," she smiled graciously. "We should discuss this." Nathan gulped, trying to regain some semblance of composure. Domino just smiled a wicked grin.

"Good! I knew you'd agree with me. This situation has gone on long enough." Domino bit back an annoyed grin, immensely enjoying Nathan's discomfiture. 'As if he thinks I'd ever be tacky enough to actually discuss this with them. Shit. This is too easy.'

She let loose an annoyed tirade, all the while shaking her head in disgust actually aimed at them, not at the seeming subject of her rant. "You're so right, Storm. Hank *should* be in here. Anytime someone has business with him, by all rights they should be able to find him here, but nope, he's never around. He has responsibilities, dammit! I'm tired of him shirking them- somebody needs to say something to him about it. I nominate myself."

Nodding sharply to punctuate her ire, she jumped down from the table and was surprised to find that her knees buckled slightly out from under her. Nathan stretched out an anxious hand to steady her, but she batted it away. He looked at her, emotions etched clearly across his face. He realized what she'd just done but was far too worried about her to call her on it. She sighed, and suddenly felt about twenty years older. 'I'm getting too old for this shit, and I never liked it much in the first place.'

In a slightly more subdued done, she promised "I'm fine, Nate. I'm just gonna go find that lazy Hank and give him a piece of my mind. You kids stay here and clean up. Just look at how cluttered he leaves the place!" She sighed loudly, too loudly, and in a sarcastic tone muttered in a voice just low enough for him to hear "Thanks for all your help, Nate, really. Nice to know I can count on you when it matters." Haughtily lifting her chin in the air, she brushed past the confused Ororo without stopping.

Nathan just stared at the departing Domino, concern and anger warring on his face. "Dom. Come back here, please...you're not recovered enough yet to go off by yourself."

Ororo tilted her head in confusion. 'Recovered? From what? The woman has clearly lost her mind.' In the voice she had used as a goddess to provoke obedience from her worshippers in Kenya, she commanded "Surely you're joking- come back here and explain yourself."

Domino stopped shortly and leaned against the doorframe in a languorous pose. She raised an amused eyebrow and responded in precisely the same arrogant tone Storm had used. "No, I'm not joking, and don't call me Shirley. Sorry, your goddess-ship, no can-do. I'm not one of your lackeys you can order around however you choose." She levelled a poisonous gaze at Nathan and in a mocking drawl growled "Asshole," then pivoted sharply out of the room.

When she'd gone Ororo turned to him and asked in a stunned voice "Did you hear that? Who does that woman think she is? And just what is going on here, Nathan?"

He sighed. "That's just Dom, Ororo." His lips twitched in a small tension-relieving smile. It felt so good that he leaned his head back and let out a chuckle that soon turned into a full-throated laugh. She was back and she was alright- didn't matter that she was furious with him. It was hardly the first time, and he knew she'd get over it.

Ororo's irritation deepened. "I don't understand. Is the woman insane?" Nate sobered slightly. "No," he replied matter-of-factly " No, thank God she's not." At Ororo's quizzical expression he just shook his head, a tiny smile still plastered on his face. "Never mind. Now what did you want to see Hank about?"

As soon as she turned the corner and was out of earshot Domino sagged, clutching onto a nearby beam to steady herself. Gasping slightly, she made it to the elevator and took the easy way upstairs. 'Damn, I feel like shit.' Her heart pounded and her whole body felt leaden, but she somehow made it to the X-Force wing. As she staggered down the fortunately empty hall to her room, she grinned 'But they don't know that. Assholes.' She crawled in her bed and fell almost immediately into a deep, blessedly dreamless slumber.

After listening to a litany of woes consisting mainly of the evils of Pete Wisdom interspersed with imprecations against Domino, Nate had almost had enough. He'd let Ororo bitch about Dom for a minute or two to release her frustration at Dom's toying with them, but damn if she wasn't going overboard- and Pete? Ororo had never met Pete, she'd told him that herself when she told him why she needed to speak with Hank. He'd wisely kept his own connections with Wisdom quiet, but thought that if she didn't shut up soon he'd have to break down and tell her what he knew. Why in the world did she hate him so much? As she complained, he straightened up the med-lab. Though it would take Hank's input to rearrange everything back in its proper position he consoled himself with the fact that at least it now looked functional. He swept up a small pile of glass then examined his handiwork. 'There- that's better.' To his surprise, she was still talking- he'd tuned her out several minutes ago when he'd started. He sighed 'Enough.'

He drew in a deep breath and interjected "Ororo, I know you probably don't want to hear this, but I have to tell you- you're not giving Pete a fair chance. I've known him for a long time- a damn long time- and I owe him a hell of a lot." Remembering one particular night in Genosha when he'd been detained too long and Dom had paid the price, he nodded emphatically "A hell of a lot. I think if you'd actually meet the man yourself and spend some time with him you'd know what I mean." Genosha- hell, he'd actually forgotten about that. If Pete hadn't come when he did...Nathan refused to let himself go down that path. If he started thinking about the could haves and might have beens over the years he'd be in worse shape than Dom had been earlier that day, and he didn't think she was in the mood to help snap him out of it just then.

Lost in thought, he missed Ororo's next comment. "I'm sorry," he apologized "I was thinking about something else...what did you say?"

She snapped "I said that I have already made my decision, thank you. I know very well what kind of man my Kitten needs, and it is certainly not that Wisdom person! She and Piotyr are fated to be together, and the sooner everyone realizes it the better." She self-righteously poked the now rolled up letter in his chest for emphasis. "And why did you not tell me that you know this Wisdom ? Does he have something else to hide?"

That did it- he'd had enough. Nathan's left eye blazed "You have the right to think whatever you want to, Storm. I didn't tell you at first because a lot of what we've done in the past hasn't been pretty. Some of us are carrying around a whole lotta shit that we'd just as soon not be reminded of!" He thought of Dom less than an hour ago, screaming in anguish at the darkness within her, and a vein stood out on his neck. He took a deep breath and continued. "I'm telling you this- without Pete neither me nor Dom would be here right now! I'm tired of you bitching about him without even knowing the man, so until you meet him for yourself I don't want to hear you say another word against him, or Dom, too, for that matter! Do you understand me?" Years of command authority rang through his voice, but she jerked her chin up in defiant anger.

She glared at him "I do not have to listen to this, Nathan. If you see Henry please tell him that I wish to speak with him. Good day." With a swish of silver hair she was gone. He swore under his breath, waited a few minutes to make sure that she'd left, then stormed out of the corridor up to his room where hopefully he couldn't piss anybody else off.


Part 16

For the first time in a week she woke up without a headache or a hangover or both. Though still tired, she felt infinitely better than she had the night before. Rolling out of bed with her usual half-hearted grumbling, she grabbed her bathrobe from the door and headed out into the hall to hop in the shower before anyone else did.

Still sleepy, she trudged out into the empty hallway wiping the matter from her eyes. When she got about halfway down the hall, though, she saw the steam coming from the crack between the bathroom door and the floor. She swore under her breath "If whoever that is has used all the hot water I'm gonna schedule them seven extra workout sessions under my direct supervision." She knocked on the door "Hey! That's enough- Cut it off, now!" The splashing of the shower ceased almost immediately. A few minutes later a sheepish Rictor emerged, a purple towel wrapped around his trim waist.

"Sorry, Dom," he grinned. "I just got in a little while ago- Me an' Tab went out clubbin' and the smoke got all in my hair- had to wash it out. There's plenty of water left, though." He twisted his long brown mane, water dripping out of it onto the tile floor.

She stifled a yawn and closed the door on him. The mirrors were fogged with condensation and the air thick and steamy from Ric's long shower. Turning on the fan, she dropped her robe on the counter and grinned. Wonder of wonders, the tub was actually clean! She usually had to settle for one of the incredibly spacious bathroom's huge shower stalls for hygiene's sake, but this morning the massive antique-style tub actually sparkled white. 'Cleaning lady musta come,' she noted in satisfaction. The mansion employed several beta-and gamma-level mutants in positions such as these- while provided a stable income they were also taught how to control their mutations, however slight they were.

The entire room had been designed with the greater bulk of many of the male inhabitants of the home in mind, and as a result the fixtures were considerably larger than the norm. She didn't mind, especially on mornings like this one when she'd gotten up early enough to enjoy a long, hot bath in a tub large enough to almost swim in. Turning on the water, she reached under the cabinet and grabbed one of Terry's many bottles of scented bath oils and poured it in. Smiling slightly, she moved Caliban's rubber duck from the rushing bubbles and gently sat it on the counter near her robe. Easing into the water, she settled herself in amongst the lilac-scented bubbles and breathed a sigh of relief. Her eyes closed in relaxation, and she swiftly drifted back to sleep.

She was sitting at the end of a long formal dining table, tied to the chair with wire cable. Hulking armed guards stood on either side of her, and the obligatory inhibitor collar was fastened snugly around her neck. She looked down the length of the table and through a bleary haze saw the arms dealer Tolliver, a merc she'd worked with a few times Deadpool and a strange brown-haired woman deep in conversation. She thought she saw the woman cast a look of pity in her direction, but she wasn't sure. The drugs she'd been slipped had done their work too well, it was all she could do to focus her gaze. She blinked in surprise- they'd really given her way too high a dosage, because where the brown-haired woman had been there stood a woman who looked rather like herself. Odd.

One of the guards poked her in the ribs with a baton and she laughed sarcastically. "Very original. Did you think up that one all by yourself or did you have help?" Her voice lowered "Don't even think about touching me again, you slimy bastard. I've killed tougher things than you with my pinkie toe."

The man looked at her stupidly but his companion laughed. "Oh, don't worry, sweetheart, we wouldn't think about it. Buzz an' me here wanna keep our jobs. The boss wants you all for himself - says he wants to sample the old man's goods before he takes you out, whatever the hell that means. I've learned not to ask. Oh, good..." He nodded at a tiny man who'd come in a side entrance. Leering at her, the man pulled a hypodermic needle out of a pocket in his vest and injected her in her exposed arm. The room immediately began to swirl.

On the other side of the spinning room she thought she saw the hooded Tolliver nod his head. Deadpool and the woman - who now looked just like her, she noticed, stood to leave. Walking by her chair, Deadpool rapped his knuckles three times on her skull. "Too bad, Petey," he rumbled "I hated to do it to ya, but them's the breaks." Turning to the other woman, he motioned to the door. "C'mon, Vanessa, time to make the donuts. Mr. Tolliver here's got work to do." She thought she heard the woman whisper a soft "I'm sorry," but she wasn't sure.

After they left, the shrouded figure rose silently. Walking over to her chair, he sat down on the edge of the table. Removing the mask, a handsome young blond man smiled maliciously. "Well, now, the infamous Domino. I've heard legends about you all of my life."

She spat weakly "Screw you, you sheep-buggering fugwit. You don't know jack shit about me." His eyes widened in surprise.

"Oh, you can talk, eh? I'd have thought with the sedative Pico here" he motioned to the diminutive man now standing beside him "just administered that you'd barely be able to think, much less speak. Impressive." He was quiet for a moment. "You are, of course, right."

She glared at him and mumbled in a tone laced with venom "Of course I'm right, you motherless bastard. What the hell do you want with me?"

His gaze narrowed but he replied in the same cheerful tone "I'm beginning to understand why the old man found you so fascinating. I was just going to kill you, but now I think I'll keep you around a while." He cupped her chin roughly, thumb caressing her bruised lips. "I think you'll even grow to like it."

Snarling, she bit into his thumb. He yelped and wrenched it away from her, motioning to the startled guards to keep back. "Stay back, you idiots!" Ignoring the gash on his thumb, he shook his head "Good help is so hard to find. But you, dear Domino, are a treasure! We'll have a wonderful time retraining you- just imagine! Oh, the fun we'll have..." His eyes glinted dangerously.

A drop of blood from his thumb pooled at the corner of her mouth and she licked it, grinning ferally at him. "Do your best, asshole."

He nodded sincerely. "Oh, we will." And for the next year, he had, and she remembered it all.

"Hey! Heyyyyy! Whoever's in there, unlock the door! We've been waitin' out here for thirty minutes, and Cable's gonna kill us if we're late for the session! Hurry up!" The pounding on the door finally broke through the darkness of the dream and she jumped up out of the water, gasping for breath and her heart pounding in her chest. Her hands shook uncontrollably. 'That was so realistic...oh I thought I was back there...' Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself 'Chill out, Dom, it was just a dream. Just a dream.' Shivering, she stepped out of the now lukewarm water, slipping on her robe and wrapping a towel around her wet hair.

Opening the door, she stepped through the waiting team without a word. Tabitha started to complain again but at the ashen expression on Domino's face thought twice of it. Watching the lone figure walk slowly down the hall, arms clenched to her side, Tabitha decided 'I'll let her slide this time.'


Part 17

The room illuminated as she entered and she blinked in mild surprise. 'Damn motion sensors..'. Tearing into a hastily prepared ham sandwich, she grabbed a comfortably padded rolling chair and slid over to the communications console. She pushed a small lever hidden under the table and nodded in satisfaction as a bright array of lights and monitors lit up. She took a long swallow of soda and leaned back, a faint smile on her face. 'This oughta be good- Maybe he's got some juicy gossip.'

She leaned forward and activated a sequence of numbers. A large central monitor bearing an X logo lit up, and within seconds a massive figure appeared. "Muir Island Research Facility- how may I help you?"

Domino nodded coolly. "Good Evening, Colossus. This is Domino of X-Force- I need some information. Is Pete Wisdom available right now?" During her years as a merc, Domino had learned how to interpret body language and facial minutia extremely well. Though at first glance the Russian seemed unfazed at the request, closer analysis revealed a tensing of his neck muscles and a tiny, tiny tic in his left eye, quickly blinked away. Though intrigued, she filed the information until it could be put to good use.

Piotyr was polite to the woman, though he had to suppress an instinctive shudder at the mention of Wisdom's name. "Certainly...Domino, is it? I will summon him at once."

She waved a negligent hand "Certainly. Thank you." Pasting an expression of bored indifference on her face, she snickered to herself. She knew very well of the old relationship between this entirely too uptight (though admittedly very good-looking) ex-X-man and Pete's new (and from what she understood, very serious) girlfriend. Grinning to herself, she decided a little teasing might just be in order. Pete had certainly done it enough to her- a horrible thought occurred to her. Pete didn't know about Milo- and after her ordeal yesterday she didn't think she had the strength to go through it again. Inhaling sharply, she decided she'd just tell him about it later- Pete would understand.

The screen was quiet for several minutes, but she heard a familiar rasping voice in the background. "What the bloody hell do you mean, official business with me? Nobody I know would call the Muir Island number for 'official business'. Now leave me alone an' let me get back to me coffee." A deep sigh, then muffled words in a deeper tone. "OH! Well, why th' hell didn't ya tell me? 'Course I'll talk to 'er." She heard a rustling of papers then a very familiar face popped onto the screen. Before he spoke to her, though, he turned his head and scowled. "I've got it, Comrade, thanks very much. I can 'andle it from 'ere." He nodded at the off-screen grumble "Yeah, yeah, I'll log in whatever 'business' she called about...now leave me alone- go paint a bloody masterpiece or beat up a bunch of orphans or somethin -"

Making a rude gesture in the other man's direction, the thin man on the screen faced forward. He grinned crookedly, blue eyes twinkling with genuine pleasure. "Dom! Woman, where've you been? I've been tryin' to find your pale ass for a week now."

Her lips quirked in a grin "Glad to see you, too, Wisdom." She shook her head. "And don't give me that shit, Pete, no, you haven't. You've been too happy playing house to remember your old friends anymore." At his indignant "Hey!" she chuckled magnanimously. "But that's alright. I've come to expect that from a lowlife like yourself." Her eyes gleamed and she lowered her voice conspiratorially "Pete! Tell me something-"

He leaned forward "Yeah?"

"When he answered the line, I couldn't help but notice how good Colossus is lookin'. Who is he going out with? I bet he could just rock somebody's world..." She bit back a grin at his baleful look.

"Yeah, you always did have a thing for big ol' overmuscled tight-assed metal men, didn't ya?" He retorted, and she chuckled. "Touché'."

They chatted on for a few minutes in the manner of old friends everywhere. After discussing their respective teams and their surprise at their alliance with a group as idealistic as the X-men, the conversation turned to more personal topics. Domino smiled, thinking of the gossipy reports she'd gotten from some of her London contacts concerning Pete's love life.

"How's Kitty?" She leered, waggling her elegant eyebrows for effect. He purposefully ignored her hidden meaning, answering the question at face value, the obvious warmth in his voice unfeigned.

"She's bleedin' wonderful, Dom. Best thing that ever happened to me, thanks for askin'." He peered closer into the screen and frowned disapprovingly, voice rough with concern. "Shit, Dom, you look like hell. Anything wrong?" 'Not that she'd tell me if there was,' he growled to himself. He changed tactics, teasing "Nate slappin' you around again?"

Raising an eyebrow at the absurdity of the remark, she masked her irritation with a sarcastic snort. "Hardly. I'd kick his technorganic ass in a heartbeat. Nah, Pete, I'm fine. Just haven't been sleeping that well lately." She shrugged nonchalantly, but he recognized the telltale shadows under her eyes. 'Been there, luv,' he commiserated silently. 'If I didn't have Pryde to keep them demons away from me at nights, I'd...' he refused to complete the thought. 'Speakin' o' which, I guess it's time to get down to business.'

He looked surreptitiously over his left shoulder, then skilfully faked a coughing fit, expertly staggering the pattern of the sounds. He was gratified to see her head perk up immediately, expression suddenly studiously neutral. The years both spent in intelligence had definitely paid off. 'Good girl...recognized the code.' Even better, she recognized that the channel wasn't secure and to keep quiet. 'I'm glad at least some of these friggin' X-types have operated in the real world. Makes this a whole lot easier. Hell, I shoulda known Dom would catch on...she's the one that taught me about this bleedin' code in the first place.' He read her expression accurately- she understood the message perfectly, and he could stop hacking like a friggin' hyena any minute now.

Her hooded eyes disguised any emotion at what he'd just told her- a serious threat had resurfaced and they needed to meet so he could safely deliver more details. Apparently there was also the possibility that either Excalibur or the X-Men's communications security was compromised.

"Are you OK?" she played along, fingers steepled thoughtfully.

He 'regained' his breath. "Yeah, I'm fine. I gotta get back to work, Dom, but tell me somethin' first. Me an' Kitty was in London an' I saw this card that she thought you'd like. She mailed if off the other day- did you get it?"

Her eyes widened imperceptibly, but she nodded. London it was- and since it was Pete, probably the Crown. If not, she'd find him when she got there. "Yeah, I got it," she lied "It was nice- tell Kitty thanks and I'll talk to her later. And," she grinned affectionately "Take care of yourself, runt. I'll see you later."

He grinned "Later, Dom." Leaning forward she turned the array off. She crumpled the empty can and tossed it into an empty trashcan and stood to find Nathan. Like it or not, it looked like they were going to London.


Part 18

It was almost an hour before she found him swimming laps around the lake, much as she'd done several nights before. She pulled the brim of her hat down as protection against the evening sun and walked down the length of the dock, rubbing her bare shoulders against the chill of the early spring wind.

"Nate! Come here, I need to talk to you!" She yelled from the edge of the dock. He was on the other side of the lake, well out of the range of normal human hearing, but she called out anyway. "Nate!!!!! Swim faster, dammit, I've got to talk to you!"

He chuckled as he made his way across the lake with swift, methodical strokes. 'Never been known for your patience, girl,' he thought, listening to her yelling. 'I wonder what's important enough for her to break her vow of silence towards me....' During the morning session they'd both observed the team, but she hadn't said anything to him. She'd answered his questions with grunts and monosyllables and when the team finished, she had only ran down a perfunctory analysis of their performance before she had excused herself and left the room. That'd been several hours ago and he hadn't seen her since. 'Though I haven't really looked,' he admitted, picking up his pace 'I was gonna give her a little more time to herself before I tried talking about everything again, but if she's ready, so am I.'

He swam up to the dock where she sat cross-legged, looking at him. "Hey, Dom. What's up?" He pulled himself out of the water and sat beside her, telekinetically floating an enormous faded purple towel from a nearby bench. Rivulets of water ran down his muscled chest and she forced herself to look away, suppressing the totally inappropriate and wholly lewd thoughts that sprang unbidden to her mind. 'You're pissed at him, Dom, stop it. He doesn't deserve your drool.' Thankfully, he seemed not to notice her reaction.

She scooted away, grimacing in disgust at the rapidly encroaching puddle of water pooling under him. She managed a clear, dispassionate tone. "I spoke to Pete today."

He dried his hair with the now damp towel. "Which Pete? I know lots of 'em." Running his fingers through his hair, he sat the towel down under him to soak up the excess water.

She inhaled sharply. "Pete Wisdom, you idiot. He e-mailed me earlier this week, so I returned his call. I would have done it sooner," she looked pointedly at him "But I've been busy."

He raised a silver eyebrow "Yeah, me, too. Life's a bitch. What'd the Brit want?" Cable asked in a conversational tone. Studying her face, he leaned back, resting his palms against the hard flat planks of wood.

Domino stretched her legs out and crossed them at the ankles. She calmly recounted their earlier conversation, including the coded message and Pete's oblique instructions to meet him in London. His eyes narrowed when she told of Pete's reluctance to trust the security channel between the mansion and Muir.

He sat up sharply "Does he think the channel is compromised? By whom? On their end or ours?" He continued the barrage of questions, thinking out loud, trying to reason out the logic behind their old friend's words.

She finally stopped him. "Nate, it could be any of the reasons you just said or none of them. Pete was in the business a long time- and you and I both know what that does to people. Besides, let's just face it- Pete Wisdom was born cynical. It might be something as simple as the fact that he just doesn't trust the overseas comlines."

He nodded reluctantly. "Maybe you're right, but one thing's for sure. We'll find out tomorrow." He stood up and held down a hand to help her up.

She looked up at him incredulously. "What do you mean, we'll find out? He didn't ask for you, Nate - I was just telling you to get your ideas about it, to let you know where I'd be going." She rose gracefully, shaking away his proffered help.

He narrowed his eyes and drew back his hand. "Dom, you know I have all the faith in the world in you but after what you've just been through there's no way in hell I'm letting you go off like that by yourself." At her furious expression he closed his eyes 'Bad choice of words, buddy.'

She crossed her arms against her chest and glared up at him. "What do you mean let me go like that? I'll go anywhere I want to, Nathan, and I've been 'by myself' all my life." Her voice was quiet but their long association had taught him to recognize the note of sadness hidden in them.

He opted against arguing in favor of an apology. "You're right- I'm sorry, Dom. I didn't mean it like that- I meant that I'd like to go with you. Whatever this is, it must be serious for Pete to call. I'd like to help." He pleaded silently 'Dom, calm that temper, please...neither one of us can handle another day like yesterday.' Strangely enough, his words seemed to mollify her.

He could tell the depth of her exhaustion by the speed in which she acquiesced. She nodded tiredly "It's alright, Nate. I think Pete probably meant the message for both of us, anyway." A deep sigh "When do you wanna leave?"

He very nearly told her immediately, but a closer look at the shadows under her eyes stayed his hand. Whatever it was that had Pete so upset could wait another night- Dom needed some rest, even if she wouldn't admit it to herself. He stretched "How about tomorrow at noon? I'll leave Terry in charge of the morning session and clear everything with Scott tonight." He looked at her closely "Hey, you had dinner yet?"

She shook her head "I had a sandwich for lunch- I'm not really hungry." She stood silhouetted against the light from the dying sunset, and he stared at her for a long moment, debating the obvious.

"Come go into town with me, let's get some dinner. I don't feel like cooking tonight, and since we don't know how long we'll be in London, let's go to Harry's." He held his hand out to her, eyes squinting against the light.

To his surprise, she took it. "Yeah, I think that'd be good. I wouldn't mind a steak." He grinned crookedly and they walked down the dock towards the mansion.

He sat in the foyer waiting. She'd said meet him in thirty minutes, dammit, and it'd been an hour already. He'd already showered, shaved, and changed into casual dress clothes, AND discussed with his father the trip and the reasons for it. Though Cyclops hadn't liked it (he hadn't met Pete Wisdom personally, only read Moira and Kurt's reports), there really wasn't much he could say. Cable and Domino were the team leaders of X-Force, and as such had the authority to make any such trip they deemed necessary. Scott had made him promise daily reports, especially about the security of the com lines, which he promised to have thoroughly checked immediately. Nathan sighed and checked the heavy grandfather clock again. If he hadn't been so surprised that she'd agreed to go anywhere at all with him after the week they'd had, he'd've gone up there and banged on her door until she was ready. As it was, he waited.

The hall door opened slowly and startled him out of his reverie. Logan and Psylocke entered, chatting animatedly about an esoteric form of Japanese meditation. At Cable's obvious impatience, Logan nudged Betsy and walked over to the bench where Nathan sat. With Nathan sitting and Logan standing right in front of him, the two were almost eye-level. The smaller man grinned and took a deep puff of his cigar.

"Looks like ya been stood up, bub. Which one was it this time?" Wolverine rumbled, amusement glinting in his eyes.

Betsy glided over to the bench and sat beside him. "Yes, Nathan," she smiled serenely "Which shall it be tonight?"

Nathan glared at both of them. 'Is there any such thing as a secret in this place?" he groaned, but refused to answer them. He had all ideas that they knew anyway. He turned his head away from them and crossed his arms against his chest, staring at the wall. Logan's next words surprised him.

"I heard you talkin' to Scoot a minute ago. I'm goin' with you and Dom ta London." He squared his stance and met Cable's stunned gaze directly.

Nathan crossed his legs "Oh, really? Just why do we need you to come with us?" Though he and Logan had officially resolved their differences, Cable still felt the tiniest bit threatened at Logan's insistence that he tag along on this trip. He'd just get in the way.

Elisabeth stood by Logan, echoing his posture. "I will be accompanying you as well."

Cable snorted in disbelief "Well, why don't we just ask the whole friggin' team if they want to go? I'm sure I can get us a group rate at a real nice hotel."

Betsy's face darkened for a moment. "I'm quite serious. This sounds lunatic, but I've always suspected my telepathy extended into precognition. I can't see particulars, but I know that if I don't go to England now that something horrible will happen. I don't expect you to understand, but you must accept that one way or another, Logan and I are going with you to London."

Logan chewed the tip of his cigar. "Well, I ain't seen no visions a' doom or anything like that, but my instincts are just screamin' on this one. Neena's a friend, bub, and I intend that she ain't gonna go through no more of the crap I know she's rememberin' right now. I'm going. Period. 'Sides," his expression softened "I wouldn't mind seein' Kitty while I'm over there."

Betsy smiled "Ah, the truth will out. Come, Logan, let's let Nathan enjoy his evening. He'll see more than enough of us soon enough."

Before he had the chance to object again, they were gone. He had no doubt that somehow, someway they would find out precisely when the PACRAT was departing. He sighed. 'And Dom was pissed about me tagging along.'


Part 19

Ororo stood and brushed the soil off her knees. The flowers were beautiful. Every petal shone brightly in the mid-morning sun- no unwanted pest dared bare its carapace in her garden. Smiling in satisfaction at her handiwork, she gathered up her tools and walked down the long driveway to the mansion, watering the shrubs and plants that lined the path with small rainshowers as she passed.

Humming a tune under her breath, she punched in the code to open the front door. Her body automatically compensated for the much cooler interior of the mansion, and she continued the tune as she entered the lobby and walked down the hall to deposit her tools in a utility room before she went up to her attic loft to change. Passing the Professor's study, she noticed a familiar figure hunched over a huge oak desk. She paused at the doorway and spoke softly. "Hello, Scott. It is a lovely morning - perhaps you should take a break and enjoy some of it outside."

Scott Summers was struggling his way through the vast array of paperwork that littered the desk. Closing his eyes tightly, he rubbed the bridge of his nose where his ruby quartz glasses rested. He looked up "Wha...oh, hell, Storm, come on in. No, I've got too much work to do today to take a break, but I'd like some company for a minute." He yawned, stretching tight deskbound muscles. Kicking the plush chair back, he walked in front of the desk and leaned against it. "I would like to ask a favor of you, if I can."

Ororo walked over to the desk. She pursed her lips, considering. Though she respected Scott and considered him a friend, the old rivalry they'd had as simultaneous leaders of the X-men still flared up at times. She paused, hedging "Might I ask what kind of favor?"

Cyclops yawned again. "I need someone capable to check our communications systems thoroughly. Nathan promised to get Shatterstar to do it, but...I don't have too much faith in those X-Force kids."

Storm brightened at the mention of Nathan. "Ah! You have spoken with your son lately, then?" Perhaps he'd told his father of their relationship- she was curious to know what Scott thought about it, though she was not too concerned. Though the situation was unconventional, she admitted gladly, as a dear friend to both his 'mother' and father she was certain they would consider her a tremendous step up from his last 'relationship'. 'If one could call it that,' she sniffed.

He nodded. "Yeah- that's why I need the system checked out." He recounted the previous night's conversation with his time-tossed son to her, ignoring her stunned expression. Venting his frustrations to her, he finally concluded "The whole thing's just a waste of time, Storm."

Ororo's eyes widened in annoyance and she had to bite her tongue to contain her disapproval. Even so, she couldn't keep a tiny chord of irritation out of her lilting voice "Scott, perhaps I did not hear you correctly. You said that Nathan is going...where? To meet whom? When is he leaving?" She purposefully left out Domino's name- she didn't want Scott to misinterpret her interest in the matter as petty jealousy.

Cyclops was warming up to his subject. "Oh, they're going to London- didn't say for how long, though they left Siryn in charge of X-Force so I'm assuming it's at least an overnight trip. They're leaving in, oh," he glanced down at a battered wristwatch "About thirty-five minutes or so. I think he said that they're going to meet up with...." He bit his lip, tying in vain to recall the elusive name. "Oh, whassihisname...the new guy in Excalibur. Nathan said they've been friends with him a long time- he needed some help with something, I don't remember what." A morning spent going over reports of literally thousands of names from the Mutant Underground had left his short-term memory very little room for details. "I've got it written down here, somewhere," he motioned to the cluttered desk.

Ororo was so infuriated that she didn't even bother to contain her ire. She flinched every time Cyclops used the plural 'they' when describing Cable's plans. She almost cried out when Scott said 'new guy in Excalibur.' She swallowed hard. "Wisdom?" she queried darkly, the single word conveying every ounce of her distaste and suspicion of this interloper. The situation was rapidly deteriorating from bad to worse. "Is Nathan going to meet...Pete Wisdom?"

"Yes!" he grinned, snapping his fingers. "Wisdom! That's his name. I haven't met him, just read Kurt and Moira's reports. I wish they wouldn't go, but there's really nothing I can do about it. When the Professor decided to let X-Force stay here, he agreed to give the team leaders complete mission autonomy, as long as they stayed within the boundaries of the law." 'And sometimes when we need them not to,' he didn't add, vividly recalling one time in particular when X-Force had broken into the SHIELD helicarrier to free him. Matter concluded, he sat down on the edge of the desk and picked up another thick stack of papers. Idly thumbing through them, he looked up "Well, Ororo?"

She stared at the floor, shocked by this double betrayal. Nathan- leaving with...with that unstable...no, that was too kind... with that insane woman who'd clung to him for so long, and not telling her! 'I will speak to him about this,' she promised grimly. 'And to meet....Pete Wisdom?' Bile rose in her throat as she thought of what she'd learned about this man yesterday. 'And Nathan is going to see him? Surely he is simply humoring Domino. Cable would never associate with such a character of his own free will.' She had completely forgotten the fact that not too very long ago, Cable was such a person.

Cyclops raised an eyebrow "Ororo? Can you check out the communications system this afternoon? I really don't think there's anything wrong with it, but we can't afford to take any chances."

She glared at him. "I am afraid that I will be unavailable this afternoon. I am going to speak with Nathan about this trip, and if I cannot convince him of the error of his ways I am going to London with him." She tilted her chin in the air and abruptly left the room, striding regally to her loft to change clothes and take a quick shower before meeting Cable in the hangar bay.

Cyclops watched her exit in confusion, then turned back to his work. 'Whatever,' he thought, annoyed that he'd have to find someone else to check out the com array, and resumed his paperwork.


Part 20

She paced in front of the mirror in her room, studying her reflection from different angles. The carefully applied latex makeup concealed her facial birthmark and matched her albino skin tone so well that if she hadn't lived with the plum colored oval around her left eye all of her life, she wouldn't even have known it existed. Satisfied with the disguise, she delicately applied 'normal' makeup next, covering all visible parts of her body with an apricot tinted acrylic-based foundation (purchased from the same company which produced the latex concealer). Conventional makeup came next- instead of her usual vivid lipstick and heavy mascara she opted for neutral shades. 'Now for the costume,' she grimaced.

She opened her cramped closet doors. Knowing Pete, they'd meet in a bar, probably the Crown, so she wanted to appear as inconspicuous as possible. She'd probably be recognized anyway (she still had quite a few contacts in British intelligence and more than a few European enemies left over from her mercenary days) but the demure makeup and the boring (if well made) beige linen business suit she pulled from a dark corner of the closet went a long way towards disguising her true identity.

She stuck her tongue out at her reflection in the mirror as she pulled her hair into a sleek chignon and slipped on a strand of pearls and matching stud earrings. 'I look like a freakin' ninetofiver,' she groused, 'but I guess that's the point.' The outfit, the hairstyle, the jewelry all fit the part of a typical executive going out for a few drinks after work. The woman she saw in the mirror was a far cry from one of the most wanted people on the planet. She allowed herself a small smile of anticipation. 'After everything that's happened this week, it'll be good to get back to work.'

After hastily throwing her usual casual clothing (and several uniforms) into a well-worn suitcase, she stepped into a pair of high-heeled pumps. 'I hate these damn things,' she muttered. 'At least my boots have a little support. I'm gonna topple right over in these things if I'm not careful.' She stepped into them anyway.

Her peripheral vision caught a glance at the time on the clock beside her bed and she swore under her breath. She opened her top dresser drawer and pulled out a handful of concussion grenades and tossed them in the suitcase. Crouching, she reached under the bed and retrieved her favorite plasma rifle and gently laid it atop the mass of crumpled clothing and zipped the now bulging suitcase up. Almost as an afterthought, she grabbed two Glocks from the same top drawer and stuck one in her waistband and the other in the dusty expensive-looking leather purse that had hung with the suit. 'Nate'll have the big stuff on the plane if we need it,' she reassured herself, feeling very uncomfortable that she was going into any unknown situation without serious hardware. 'Pete, old buddy, I trust you, but this'd better be good.'

Before closing the drawer, she took a large bottle of perfume and doused herself liberally with it, nose wrinkling at the spicy smell. 'Ah, this is disgusting. Not my style at all.' Terry's father had given her the expensive perfume for her birthday earlier that year, but claiming allergies, she'd passed it on to Domino instead. She knew the truth - the scent was unlike anything Teresa would ever consider wearing. 'We agree on that one,' she choked. The smell, nonetheless, seemed vaguely familiar. 'Emma must have bought this,' she realized. 'This is her cologne. Hmmmm....doing his shopping for him- or getting her shoppers to do his, too?' The last time she'd lectured over there she had noticed that the two hadn't been arguing as much. 'Wonder what Terry thinks about that?'

Taking a deep breath, cleared her mind and began working herself into the proper mindset for the job (not an easy feat, given the situation). Neither she nor Pete could afford any distractions at this point. If the matter were important enough to fly halfway across the world for, it was important enough to give her full attention to it. She hoisted the heavy suitcase easily and locked the door to her room. The stiletto heels clicked efficiently against the cold tile of the hallway as she strode down the corridor toward the winding staircase. She exited the stairwell into the elegant main foyer and to her vast amusement passed Rictor and Sunspot passing through in heated debate over a long ago soccer game.

"You're crazy as hell, man. They didn't win that match- I don't know what you're sellin' or smokin', but I know we won that one!"

"I told you, you're wrong! I remember that series, because Juliana and I watched it at my father's..." Bobby's voice trailed off as he noticed Domino standing in the corner near the stairwell. He nudged Rictor silently.

Rictor was confused at his friend's sudden silence. "Bobby, man, what's wron...oh." His jaw dropped open. 'Issat....nah....yeah, it is her!' He raised an eyebrow and said tentatively "uh...Dom, 'zat you?"

She rolled her eyes and continued walking. "Yep. I gotta go, Ric. As much as I'd enjoy chatting with you two, I've got to run. Now you two be good little boys while I'm gone- Terry's in charge. Treat her orders like you would mine- hell, scratch that- just do what she says. I don't know when we'll be back, but I'll give you a call tonight and let you know a rough estimate." Neither man spoke. She slowed down and finally stopped, then walked back towards where the two stood gaping. "Well?" Roberto broke himself out of his reverie "Sorry, Domino- forgive Ric's rudeness." He bowed gracefully "You look lovely, as usual." She snorted in amusement but said nothing.

Rictor growled under his breath at his friend. "Yeah, go on, have a fiesta. We'll be fine," he reassured his dubious commander.

Roberto eyed her curiously. He'd heard that Cable and Domino were going on a mission, but that usually just entailed guns, guns, illegal breaking and entering and guns. This looked to be far more interesting. "So, who's going on this little jaunt- just you and Cable? Where're you going?"

She shook her head "Good try, DaCosta, but none of your business. We'll give you a call to check on things later, but right now I've gotta go, I'm running..." she glanced at the antique grandfather clock by the wall "Shit, I'm already late. Gotta go." Lifting the suitcase, she pivoted and turned back down the long hall towards the hangar bay.

Rictor and Roberto watched her leave, then stared at each other in amazement. Roberto spoke first. "What th' hell was that all about? Domino looked...almost innocent," a term he'd never associated with her before.

Rictor just shrugged. "Who knows, man? Around here, who can tell? Shit, Dom in a dress- and a plain one at that? I can't handle all this weirdness." He pulled indelicately at his bright purple and gold spandex uniform, the one that had the tendency to ride up in the *most* uncomfortable places. 'Dammit,' he grumbled 'I miss my green one with the fringes.'

The hangar bay was empty, so she walked straight up the extended ramp into the plane. Betsy sat in one of the comfortable reclining chairs in the 'passenger section', really just the back area of the plane. She was flipping through a thick fashion magazine but looked up at Domino's entrance. She noted the other woman's cover and nodded. 'Good. We're going to at least make an attempt at subtlety.'

Betsy had disguised herself as well, though not to the extent Domino had. Hopefully they'd spend one night in London while Domino ran down Wisdom, stop by Muir Island to visit Brian and Excalibur in the morning, and be home by dinner tomorrow. She understood why Wisdom had wanted to meet in London instead of at the isolated privacy of Muir- after years of living communally with the X-men she knew exactly how difficult it was to keep secret meetings secret. Though she wasn't privy to the details, she understood that whatever message was so dire that it required face to face discussion most definitely should not be gossip fodder for either Excalibur or the X-men. She knew they believed her vision but she also knew that the real reason she and Logan had been accepted on this trip as easily as they had been was because both knew the importance of discretion.

Logan lay on one of the wide benches lining the wall, battered leather cowboy hat shading his eyes. A thin stream of smoke from a lit cigar clenched tightly between his teeth wafted into the air. Both he and Betsy wore casual clothing, though Domino could see the purple strap of Betsy's uniform, such as it was, peeking out from under the wide neckline of her sweater.

"Hello, Domino. The plane's ready- Cable just finished the pre-flight check- all clear. We're ready to go." Psylocke's tone was calm and professional. When Nate had told her last night about Psylocke's vision and her and Logan's plans to join them, Domino had *not* been happy. Now, though, after observing their cool readiness she was increasingly grateful for the backup. 'Especially with Pete's gift for opening up real nasty cans of worms.' She remembered New Delhi and shuddered.

Psylocke looked at her intently. "Accommodations have been made, I presume?"

Domino nodded "Yeah - I called the St.Martin's last night. Told them I didn't know how long we'd be staying, but we've got rooms reserved for as long as we need them." From under the hat, Logan grunted his approval.

The St.Martin's, owned and operated by a former British intelligence officer, was a favorite among those on both sides of the field. Besides the luxury accommodations, patrons were also protected by bulletproof windows and walls, guaranteed bug-free rooms, and a security system that almost rivalled Xavier's. Normal guests were oblivious to all of these added amenities, of course, but those who knew about it valued the services and were more than willing to pay for them.

'We very easily could have just stayed at my London flat,' Betsy considered. She almost offered anyway, but decided against it. Domino apparently had things well under control. Betsy was pleased to note that the other woman's thoughts seemed controlled and rational- the trauma of the last few days seemed to have had no lasting effects other than fatigue.

She began seriously considering the mission- Cable had shared very little other than the fact that Pete Wisdom had information for Domino and would only divulge it in person. A quick surface scan of her thoughts showed that that was all any of them knew. Betsy frowned- her precognitive vision hadn't shown her specific details, only warned her of the potential dangers if she *didn't* go. A cursory examination of the PACRAT reassured her, but only slightly. She still didn't like going into a potentially dangerous situation without a detailed plan, no matter how well armed they were.

Thinking of London caused her to get just a little nostalgic, and she began thinking of the carefree days she'd spent as a wealthy young British model. She'd shrewdly parlayed her modest Braddock inheritance into quite a fortune (with the help of her telepathy and precognition, of course), and was very much an active part of London's nightlife. With a start that she was not the only person of means aboard. From what she understood, Domino's financial resources far exceeded her own, and Logan's investments with Landau, Luckman and Lake had certainly paid off very well indeed. 'What about Cable?' she wondered. From the monies he'd made using his knowledge of the present 'past' he'd amassed a considerable fortune. Between the four of them they could probably buy a small county, she chuckled.

Betsy lapsed into silence. After a few moments, Logan stirred. He removed his hat, squinting at the bright halogen light directly above him. Sitting up, he examined Domino critically. "New look for ya, huh, Neena?" He chuckled "Don't suit ya at all." Placing the hat so the brim shaded his eyes from the overhead lights, he rasped "Nice work, though. If I didn't know ya so well, I might be fooled. Ya even smell a little bit different."

'That's because I'm wearing this hideous perfume,' she thought sourly. "Good- glad I pass muster. Now- where's Nate? I'm ready to get this party started. This damn suit chafes." She tugged at it and sat in the other recliner beside Psylocke. 'Good thing this plane can make the trip so quickly- I didn't want to change in here and let them to see me do the makeup, but I sure as hell don't want to wear this stupid getup any longer than I have to.'

Betsy laid the magazine aside and glanced at Logan. 'Do you want to handle this one or should I?' she asked him mentally. He closed his eyes and took another puff of his cigar. 'You handle it, darlin', I don't think I wanna get involved in this one any more than I gotta be.' Psylocke shrugged and answered.

"He's taking care of some last minute business," Betsy replied. 'Bloody last minute indeed. He should've had the balls to tell Ororo last night and not just call her from London as he was so obviously planning to do. No damn wonder she's been as irritable as she's been lately. If Warren behaved like that...' Psylocke snorted in disgust. 'I should just leave him to his fate, but they both deserve better than him.' She remembered his gentleness in the med-lab with the traumatized Domino and her face softened slightly. 'Oh, well - it's not for me to decide. Would that it were.'

She thought of the look on Ororo's face right before Domino had walked up. About five minutes before scheduled take off, Storm had walked into the hangar bay and oh so politely asked for a few minutes of Cable's time. Psylocke shook her head knowingly 'Perhaps he'll be hoist on his own petard after all.'

Part 21

She closed the door behind her carefully and followed him into the dusty room. "Nathan, I understand that you are quite busy, and I do not want to keep you long. I simply wish to ask a few questions." She smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle on her orange print sun dress, hoping that her sugary tone concealed the irritation she felt at not being informed about this trip to England. 'I must be patient,' she cautioned herself. 'The plane will not leave without him, after all.' She gracefully sat in one of several brown metal folding chairs lined against the far wall and waited for his reply.

They were in a secured storage room adjacent to the hangar bay in a large room filled almost to the ceiling with crates of used Shi'ar computer parts. Lilandra sent the X-Men new Imperium technology every two years or so, and the old parts and pieces were packed here into storage so they could be cannibalized for repairs when needed. The look on Ororo's face when she'd cornered him on the plane had warned Cable that perhaps a private meeting would be better than speaking openly in the hangar bay. Due to the sensitive nature of the Shi'ar technology, the storage room was kept locked at all times. 'At least now everybody else won't see me get bitched out.'

Private though it was, he'd still entered the room with some trepidation. Some of the more adventurous X-couples had been known to use the mansion's storage rooms for less than innocent purposes, and the last thing he needed was for someone to see him and Storm going into one of the private rooms and misinterpret the meeting for anything more than it was, a simple meeting. This train of thought led to a most disturbing possibility. 'I hope Ororo doesn't think I brought her down here for....Nah, don't be stupid, Nathan.' Cable chuckled ruefully at his own arrogance.

'Is he even listening to me?' Ororo glared at the daydreaming Cable. She grit her teeth 'I must not let him see how I truly feel about this trip- Warning Kitty about her new companion is far too important.' Instead of voicing her irritation she smiled at him sweetly and gestured at the metal folding chair beside her in wordless invitation.

He stared blankly into space for a moment, then jerked back to attention. He grinned sheepishly at her "I'm sorry, Ororo, I am. I was thinking about something else. Now what were you saying?" He crossed the room swiftly and sat down beside her, his massive frame taking up almost two of the slight chairs.

She nodded magnanimously "I understand." Taking a deep breath, she began, choosing her words carefully to keep the irritation out of her tone. "Why were you going to meet this Wisdom person without telling me? You knew I was interested in him." Nathan blinked in surprise, but she blithely continued "You yourself told me that I should meet him personally before I form any accurate impression of his character. This seems a perfect opportunity." She schooled her face into what she considered an expression of pure innocence. 'This had better work. I must tell Kitty about what horrible things this Wisdom has done, and if it takes lying to Nathan about my reasons for accompanying him and...the others,' she sniffed distastefully 'then so be it.'

Nathan groaned silently 'I was afraid this was gonna happen...Shoulda left yesterday, before anyone else found out about this, Nate.' He met her gaze and answered her, his voice calm and steady. "Ororo, look. This whole trip may just be a waste of time, or it may be something really important- I just don't know yet. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner, I am, but after what you said about Pete this week, I honestly didn't think you'd care to work with him, that's all." 'That much is true, anyway,' he reassured himself. "And," he continued wryly "I did just find out about this yesterday. Not a lot of time to let everyone know." 'Liar,' his conscience hissed. 'You're just afraid Dom's gonna tell her off and you're gonna be stuck in the middle again. But...' He stopped for a moment. 'Just exactly why would she think I owe her an explanation about where I'm going?' Frowning, he pushed that disturbing thought aside for the time being in favor of the current argument.

Ororo sighed "I suppose I understand how you might come to that conclusion." The room was silent for a moment while they considered their next words. Ororo spoke first "Nathan, if you just found out about this trip last night, then why are Logan and Betsy accompanying you?" She rested her arm on the back of the chair beside her, leaning closer to him. "Could this information be so dangerous?" Her eyes narrowed 'If so, then I certainly must come. My Kitten does not need to be involved in any such business.' He answered in a grim voice. "It very well could be, Ororo. Pete's out of the game, but he still has some pretty high-level contacts. And as for Logan and Psylocke, well..." He briefly explained Betsy's vision. "That's why she's tagging along, and you know Logan- once he makes up his mind there's no talking him out of it. I don't like it, but I've come to accept it about him, and he does have some pretty extensive connections, too."

She looked up at him, aquamarine eyes gleaming brightly. "Then it is not too late for me to join you on this journey. Whatever dangers this mysterious mission poses, my elemental powers can surely be of great assistance. And," she smiled softly, genuinely this time "I would dearly love to see my Kitten again."

He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling, considering her words. Though he didn't especially relish the idea of being on a plane with Dom and Ororo together even for the few hours the PACRAT took to travel the Atlantic, he had to admit she was probably right. If things got as rough as he was afraid they would, Storm's control of the weather could be an extremely important resource. He studied her carefully for a moment.

"Ororo, are you sure you can keep objective about this? I know how you feel about Pete, and I'll be the first to admit that he does take some getting used to." His face split in a huge grin as he remembered the first time he'd met Wisdom. 'I'll have to remind him about that- I haven't thought about New Delhi in forever.' He chuckled under his breath 'I thought he was gonna kill Dom when he woke up, even though she did save his life when she busted him out of there. I don't care what Griz said, nobody can convince me she didn't do that to him on purpose. That little caper had Domino written all over it...'

Ororo sighed loudly, breaking him out of his reverie. "Nathan, please. I do not know what you find so humorous, but I must tell you that I am not one of your X-Force children. I assure you that I will take this mission most seriously. Now," she looked up at him again. "Are we leaving today or not?" 'I did not lie to him,' she told herself 'I will take this most seriously.'

He very nearly did a surface scan of her mind to convince himself of her sincerity but decided against it- she valued her privacy far too much for him to casually sweep her thoughts like that. He bit his lip, considering. They were running late already, and he had the distinct impression that whatever objections he raised Ororo would come up with some reason to counter them until he finally consented to let her go along with them. 'I don't have time to sit here and argue with her, and, dammit, she's right. If Pete's message is half as important as his usual information we're gonna need all the help we can get.' Nathan sighed and made a decision, hoping like hell that Dom would go along with it without flaying him alive. "Fine. Let's do it."

Ororo's feline eyes glittered in triumph. She rose gracefully, the long skirt of her dress swirling around her legs as she swiftly walked towards the door. "Wonderful! I am delighted that you agree with me. I thought you might, so I took the liberty of packing a bag," She waved an elegant hand in the direction of the hangar bay. "I left it outside the plane. Come, then, Nathan, let us go. The others are waiting..." She turned the corner and strode down the short length of corridor that opened into the huge hangar bay.

Cable trailed behind her, punching in his access code automatically as he locked the door to the storage room. He took a deep breath as he walked out into the hangar bay and watched Ororo climb the ramp into the plane, travel bag in tow. 'This is gonna be fun,' he muttered, and followed behind her.


Part 22

She lay back in the soft leather chair, trying her best to get comfortable. The drab business suit she wore, while certainly not as tight as her usual garb, was infinitely less comfortable. A tag was biting the inside of her neck (an indication of how often she wore this particular outfit), she didn't think her stockings were on straight, and the damn shoes pinched her feet. Despite herself, she began to laugh 'Well whaaaah, bloody whaaaaaah, Dom,' she good-naturedly chided. 'Life's tough, ain't it? Do something about it or quit bitching.'

She sat up in the chair and reached behind her neck into the shirt. Grasping the sharp tag of the cream silk shell she wore underneath the beige suit, she ripped it out. Smiling in satisfaction, she tossed it over her left shoulder where it fell neatly in a rear trashcan. She didn't notice. Running her hand over the back of her neck, she sighed in relief 'Ahhhh...much better. If only all my problems were so easily solved.'

Logan favored her with a wry grin. "Feel better, darlin'?" He was lying on his side on the seats along the side of the plane, facing the two reclining leather chairs now occupied by Domino and Betsy.

She returned his grin. "Yeah, old man, I do, but I'd feel a hell of a lot better if this plane was in mid-air instead of sitting here takin' up space. I hate the waiting."

He laughed at her "Old man, my hairy ass! I know what ya mean, Neena. I ain't too fond o' waitin', either." He glanced at the clock and yawned. 'It's noon, an' we're late. Nate-boy, ya ain't making things no easier by arguin' with her. If 'Ro wants ta do somethin', she's gonna do it. Might as well just face th' music.' He stretched, breathing in deeply, but stopped in mid-stretch and delicately sniffed the air again. Detecting a very familiar fragrance at the periphery of the hangar bay, he chuckled despite himself. 'Hey, Betts, wake up. Time for the rock an' a hard place,' he mentally called to Psylocke.

Betsy had long since bored of her magazine and had leaned back in the comfortable chair, dozing lightly. She hadn't gotten much sleep the night before- she and Warren had argued for hours, and when they finally finished neither had felt much like sleeping. The fight had been so stupid- he was angry because the Worthington Industries annual stockholders meeting began in two days and she had promised that she'd be there for it. Betsy snorted delicately- as a telepath, she had an intuitive knowledge of her lover's thoughts, and she knew that the true problem went a little bit deeper than that. Despite the bond he and Logan had formed during that awful Crimson Dawn experience, Warren had always been jealous of their Canadian teammate and the long history he and Betsy shared only made it worse. She shook her dark head, bringing her thoughts back to the present. She wearily opened her eyes and answered 'Whatever do you mean, Logan?'

He grinned and stretched again, replying 'This little party just got a new member. See for yerself.' He tilted his head towards the open door of the PACRAT.

Before she could cast her thoughts around to discover what Logan had been talking about, the mystery was revealed. Ororo strode regally up the ramp and into the cabin, carrying a small canvas travel bag. She calmly walked over to one of the seats beside Logan and sat down, laying her bag beside her. Betsy stifled a groan 'Very interesting indeed,' she broadcast back to Logan, but she privately worried 'This does not bode well. What was Cable thinking?'

Domino looked up from where she was struggling to slip off her tight shoes and saw Ororo walk into the plane, head held high. Domino's eyes narrowed and she sat up board-straight in the plush chair. 'What the hell is she doing here?!? I told Nate just the four of us...' At Ororo's entrance, she sensed everyone's eyes on her, gauging her reaction. She immediately assumed an expression of tight indifference. 'I don't know just what's going on here, but damn if I'm gonna play soap opera for anybody,' she swore. 'I'm tired of these reindeer games.'

Ororo glanced across the cabin and said in a regal voice "Hello, my friends. I shall be journeying with you to London as well." She smiled at each of the passengers, secured her luggage then stood up. "I see you are all ready. Now, let me verify that the final preparations for the flight have been made so we can leave."

Domino ground her teeth, but said in a cool voice "Hello, Storm. Thanks so much for offering, but it's already been taken care of. We're ready to go." She crossed her arms over her chest and asked in a steady voice "Might I inquire as to why you're gracing us with your company?"

Ororo stopped in front of her, staring down at the still seated Domino. "Hello, Domino. That suit is...unusually becoming. I was simply asking Nathan about the details of this trip and suggested that my abilities might come in useful. He agreed. This mysterious message sounds most important- I cannot wait to meet Mr. Wisdom and hear it."

Logan winced and grabbed his weathered cowboy hat and placed it over his face. 'Ain't gettin' inta this one,' he decided, but kept a close eye on the two anyway.

Domino rose out of her chair, arms folded over her chest. "I'm sorry," she replied in a conversational tone. "Why did you say you were going along with us? I'm afraid my hearing is going..." She stepped closer to Ororo, a sugary sweet smile plastered on her face.

Facing each other, the two were almost the same height and body type, but the physical similarities ended there. They appeared almost photo negatives of the other- one with palest skin and darkest hair, the other dusky skin and pale, silvery hair. Dark violet eyes met pale aquamarine ones in a flinty stare, and Ororo responded in an equally 'pleasant' tone. "Why, to meet Mr. Wisdom and receive his message, of course."

Domino nodded somberly "I thought that's what you said." As she spoke, Cable walked up the ramp and into the plane. Seeing the women's stances, he froze. Fortunately for him, both were so engrossed in their conversation that neither noticed him. Psylocke, however, did.

'I would advise a strategic retreat,' a wry British voice sounded in his thoughts. He glared at her but didn't interfere with the conversation, instead choosing to stand quietly in the doorway and observe.

Domino raised an elegant eyebrow. Bringing her hands together in a perpendicular manner, she shook her head briskly. "Hold on just one minute. 'T' on the field. *You're* gonna talk to Pete?"

Cable recognized the dangerous glint in his partner's eyes and, taking a deep breath and saying a silent prayer, stepped forward. "Hey! Sorry I'm late- everyone ready for takeoff?"


Part 23

Domino's amethyst eyes darkened at her long-time partner's abrupt entrance. "Hey, Nate, glad you could make it. Ororo and I were just having a little talk about the trip." Arms crossed protectively against her chest, she inclined her head in Ororo's direction, daring him to interfere.

Ororo swung around to face him, a smug smile plastered across her face. "Hello, Nathan. Domino and I were discussing the mission particulars- would you care to join us?"

Taking a deep breath, he began walking over to them but took a quick detour to the cockpit and returned with the preflight check clipboard. Returning to where the two women stood, he pretended to examine it but refused to meet either of their stares. Ororo, nonplussed at his seeming indifference, turned back to face Domino. 'Are these questions really necessary? Nathan already said that I am going. What right does she have to question me?' She consciously calmed herself. 'It does not matter. Whatever I have to do to get to Kitty, I will do. It is imperative that I warn her about this Wisdom as soon as possible.'

His stalling gave Domino time to consider her options. 'I *could* show my ass and order her off the plane- Pete's message was for me, after all, but...' the pragmatic soldier in her took over 'Whatever's important enough to make Pete this nervous must be pretty serious. I may not like her, but I'll admit that the Windrider here,' she forcibly kept herself from rolling her eyes at the ostentatious nickname 'does pack some pretty serious firepower. And if I raise hell about her coming, everyone'll know how I feel about the whole situation.' Remembering her team's surreptitious glances at her every time Storm's name was mentioned, she grimaced. 'It's bad enough they talk about it anyway...'

Aloud, she said "Alright, Storm. Since you're obviously planning on tagging along for this little trip, let me lay down some ground rules." Ignoring Cable's stunned expression, she continued "First of all, this is not, I repeat not, an official mission. Nate and I are visiting an old friend in London, and the rest of you are just along for the ride. If things get ugly, you do things our way, period. No discussion. Your normal protocol does not apply. If you can't handle that, then you need to get off this plane right now."

Amazed at Domino's seemingly easy acceptance of Storm's presence, Cable remained quiet. 'Not gonna push it,' he decided 'They can handle this just fine without me'. Betsy's amused voice sounded once more in his thoughts. 'A wise realization, one you should have come to some time ago. It might have saved us all considerable trouble.' Images dredged up from both his and Domino's mind during their psychic surgeries the week before flashed unbidden through his mind. He turned to look at Betsy, who was feigning disinterest as she flipped back through her magazine. She didn't look up, but he could feel her mental laughter at his discomfort. He pointedly ignored her.

Ororo merely lifted her chin slightly at Domino's warning and replied in a frosty voice "I am sure that you are aware that I was the leader of the X-Men for several years, Domino. I also lived as a thief in Cairo for many years in my youth. I assure you that there is very little I cannot handle. I accept your terms."

Matching her haughty tone, Domino replied with a cold smile. "Good. That's settled, then. Second point- Pete's message is for me, and maybe Nate if Pete okays it. We've both known Wisdom a long time- we've saved each others' butts more times than I care to remember. He trusts us, and in this business trust like that doesn't come cheap- you have to earn it. I'm not gonna insult him by asking him to divulge whatever information he has to someone he doesn't know, X-Man or not. The rest of you come in separately, or not at all. Got it?"

The sky outside the mansion darkened in response to her anger, but Ororo's face remained impassive. Swallowing tightly, she agreed "Very well. If this information is so sensitive that Mr. Wisdom does not trust Excalibur with it, then I can certainly understand why he would not trust the X-Men. I agree to those terms." Inwardly, she fumed 'How dare she speak to me so? No doubt Wisdom trusts her so- they are cut from the same cloth! What do we really know about this woman, anyway?' Remembering the horrible results of her inquiries into Pete Wisdom's past and Domino's claims of friendship with him, her eyes narrowed coldly. 'Perhaps I shall do a little research about her when we return. For now, though, I must concentrate on rescuing Kitty. That is my priority.'

With a curt nod, Domino agreed. "Fine. Let's get this show on the road then." Stepping over to where Nate was pretending not to listen, she took the clipboard out of his hands and glanced over it.

"It's been done, Nate. Everything's checked out. Let's just get the hell out of here already. Pete's waiting on us."

Shaking his head in agreement, he turned and addressed the room. "Everyone ready to go?" At the nods that followed, he sighed and followed Domino into the cockpit. Ororo watched them step into the front of the plane and close the door. Eyebrow raised curiously, she nonetheless crossed the cabin in long strides and sat back down beside Logan on the wide bench that lined the interior of the PACRAT.

Logan, silent until now, turned to his teammate. Concern etched all across his grizzled features, he rasped "Hey, darlin', ya sure ya wanna do this? From what I hear bout Wisdom, this little trip might get real dirty. If ya just wanna see Kitty, you an' me'll fly up there next week an' visit for a while, just by ourselves."

Ororo smiled softly, resting a long-fingered hand gently on her old friend's arm. "Thank you, my friend, but no. This is something I must do now."

Logan nodded sadly. "I was afraid ya were gonna say somethin' like that." Tipping his hat even further over his face, he sighed in resignation and scooted over to lay down on the long bench, arms pillowing his head and his feet crossed. Within moments, his loud snores filled the cabin.

Unable to disguise her interest any longer, Betsy lay her book down to study Ororo. 'She's using the shielding techniques the Professor taught all the X-men,' Psylocke noted. 'I wonder what that's all about...'

Storm was rummaging through her bag in search of the gardening catalogues that had come the same day as Kitty's letter. 'Where can they be? I packed so hastily, perhaps I left them in my room...' Betsy's crisp upper class British voice cut through Logan's snoring and interrupted her musing. "Well, Ororo, are you ready for London?"

She flashed a brilliant smile at her friend. "Of course." The search for the catalogue forgotten, she leaned conspiratorially towards Psylocke. "Elisabeth...can this information be as dangerous as Domino seems to think it is?"

"I don't know, Ororo. I had one of my visions about this trip, but unfortunately it was very vague..."

Ororo nodded "So Nathan said. What do you know about Wisdom himself? Is this trip likely to be productive?"

Betsy tilted her head, considering. "I think so. I don't know much about Wisdom himself- most of my information comes from Brian and Meggan, and my conversations with Brian usually just consist of my bitching about Warren and whatever improvements he's made on the Midnight Runner lately. I have, though, learned that my brother doesn't seem to care for Pete at all, but then Brian doesn't care for too much of anybody unless they're from the right family or have...other assets." Her lips twitched in wry amusement, but noticing Ororo's intense interest she continued "Meggan, on the other hand, adores Pete. She's always telling me about how sweet he and Kitty are together." Ororo winced imperceptibly, but even through her shielding Betsy caught her distaste at the mention of Kitty and Pete together. 'Hmmm...how very interesting,' Betsy noted. Continuing in that vein, the telepath smiled "And Kitty obvious finds him fascinating."

Ororo's expression was pained, and Betsy nodded clinically. 'That's what I thought.' Feeling the plane shudder slightly as the thrusters engaged, she looked across the plane at Ororo. 'One thing's certain- this trip just got a whole lot more interesting.'

The door to the cockpit safely closed behind them, Cable turned to face Domino, hands clasped tightly behind his back. "Well, Dom, go ahead. I know it's coming."

"Whatever do you mean, Nate?" She muttered caustically, sliding the clipboard back into its slot on the cockpit wall. Adjusting her skirt, she motioned toward the back of the plane and looked up at him, her face flushing pink underneath the pale latex makeup. Giving in to the frustration that had hounded her since Ororo first stepped into the plane, she growled "What the hell is this all about? This meeting is dangerous enough as it is, Nate, without introducing unbriefed, untrained people into the equation! What the hell were you thinking?"

Against his better judgement, he defended Ororo "Dom, she's been an X-man for almost a decade. You can hardly call her 'untrained'." Avoiding her gaze, he sat down in the pilot's seat and began pushing various buttons and switches, grunting in distracted satisfaction as they lit up one by one. "Anyway, I didn't ask her. She cornered me," he grudgingly admitted.

Domino's arched brows shot up. "Did she now? Maybe so, Nate- I know she's good, and that's the only reason I'm lettin' her go in the first place," she conceded. "But forgive me if I have some reservations about her motivations."

'Yeah, you and me both,' Cable continued powering up the plane.

Ignoring his expression, Domino took the copilot's seat and began pressing buttons of her own. "I just don't think Xavier's dream would go over too well on most of the merc missions we've been on. Or have you forgotten?"

He flinched. "Dom, that's not fair," he mumbled. "You know I haven't..."

"Save it, Nate," she interrupted. "I just don't want to hear it right now."

He shrugged and continued the sequence, knowing her anger would burn itself out eventually. Fastening her safety belt, she engaged the navigational computer and entered their coordinates into it. They'd flown this plane together so many times that they completed the sequence automatically, and for a while the silence was only interrupted by the necessary question or two regarding the flight.

When the plane had finally left the hangar bay and reached cruising altitude, she stood up. In a much calmer voice, she asked him "Think you can handle it from here?"

He nodded absentmindedly. "Sure, Dom..." Tearing his gaze away from the sea of clouds, he really looked at her unusual appearance for the first time. He'd been too worried about her and Ororo to notice in the cabin, but now he saw her in one of her least favorite disguises. "Nice outfit, Dom," he ventured a grin.

Eyes twinkling at his peace overture, she pivoted and walked out of the cockpit, adding a little extra swish to her step for his benefit. His eyes widened in surprise when a very familiar, long absent voice sounded hesitantly in his mind.

'glad you like it.'


Part 24

Using a sophisticated version of their image inducers that disguised radio and heat emissions as well as appearance, the plane touched gently down on top of a penthouse owned by Braddock Enterprises. After programming the autopilot to respond to any distress calls by homing in on their mutagenic signatures, Cable joined the others in the cabin.

He almost bumped into Logan as he stepped out of the cockpit. "'Cuse me, Cable," the stubby Canadian lifted up a travel-stained garment bag. "I gotta change an' I didn't want ta do it in front o' the ladies if I could help it."

Glancing down at his own boring suit and tie, Cable refrained from asking why he didn't change before they left. Knowing Logan, the answer was obvious- comfort. He and Domino had decided the night before, over dinner, not to use image inducers- there were just too many ways of detecting and jamming them. He'd informed Betsy and Logan of that last night, so they were prepared. He wondered abstractedly what they would do about Storm.

He shouldn't have worried- Betsy hovered over Ororo, fluffing out the dark, stylishly short wig that disguised Ororo's pale silvery hair. A quick glance at the two women showed that that Ororo's pale, cat-like irises were now quite an ordinary brown. Though still very attractive, this Ororo had none of the exotic beauty he'd come to associate with her.

He nodded his approval at the disguise. "Where did you get those on such short notice?" he asked Betsy, whose lush purple hair and eyes now matched Ororo's dark ones as well.

The British telepath smiled mysteriously "Oh, one makes do." Satisfied with Ororo's appearance, she walked back to her chair and sat down. She felt no need to double check her own appearance, knowing that the contacts and wig disguised her unique coloring. The immaculate white sweater and slacks outfit she wore, though very stylish, was uncharacteristically modest. This woman looked nothing like the X-man, Psylocke.

Domino had also touched up her makeup and perfume and was getting in character. Sitting primly on the bench, she answered his question in a perfectly bored British accent "Betsy had her own, and Storm borrowed some of my spares. You ready to go, Nate?" Her violet eyes now glowed a dark emerald.

"Yeah- just one more thing." Cable pointed to his left eye, glowing in the dim light of the cabin. "Have you got mine with you?"

Domino sighed and reached for the bag she'd stuffed back behind the chair. "You should have done this already, Nate. Yeah, it's in here somewhere." Pulling out a small vial and a mousy brown toupee, she tossed both to Cable. "You need to extend your T-O mesh in synth-skin mode, too."

He grimaced "That itches like hell, but you're right." After popping an oddly shaped full-colored contact lens into his left eye, his features furrowed in concentration. As the others watched in rapt fascination, the flesh on the left side of Cable's face undulated and shifted, then settled back over his broad features, changing the shape of his face slightly. He brushed through the toupee with his fingers, then expertly pulled it over his own distinctive silver hair.

Face twitching slightly, he turned to the others "Anybody got a mirror?"

Betsy nodded calmly, pulling a small compact out of her purse "Here." 'Not bad, Nathan,' she admired the transformation. 'Pity we can't do the same thing for all those cumbersome muscles.'

Cable checked his appearance critically. The synthetic skin created by his T-O mesh covered the star-shaped scar over his right eye, and instead of gleaming golden, his technorganic left eye now matched his blue grey left eye perfectly, down to very, very tiny bloodshot lines (added for authenticity) in the corners of the whites. The synth-skin even altered the contours of his face slightly, and he nodded in satisfaction. 'Good enough.'

Walking back across the cabin to the cockpit, he pounded on the door "Logan! Come on! We're waiting on you!"

A few minutes later Logan, garbed in a classic Italian white linen suit, appeared silhouetted in the cockpit doorway. Legs spread wide apart and short arms crossed over his chest, he grinned ferally "If yer waitin' on me, yer backin' up, bub."

Ororo beamed at her old teammate. "You look most respectable, Logan."

Betsy slowly ran her eyes up and down his short frame. "Indeed." The single word held reams of meaning.

Domino, for her part, dropped character and wolf-whistled "Not bad for an old man, Patch."

Logan grinned at all three, swaggering slightly as he crossed the cabin. "Thanks much, ladies. Yeah, this is one o' my Patch outfits, Dom. Surprised ya remembered."

Her smile vanished and she shook her head solemnly. "There's no way I could ever forget." The look he gave her spoke volumes. 'Yeah, I 'member too, Neena. The combat pits o' Madripoor wasn't no place fer a little girl like you was back then...ol' 'Patch' may have been an asshole, but at least he got ya out o' there.'

Sensing the thickness in the air, Cable interjected "Well, then, if this meeting of the Logan appreciation society can come to a close, there's a very irritable Englishman waiting for us across town."

That very Englishman was bored. Bored and impatient. Sitting in a cramped booth in a dark corner of the Crown, he watched the midday patrons come in, drink their drinks, chat a little with the 'bartender' and leave. He stirred his drink half-heartedly. 'It's too soddin' early to be 'ere- I told 'er today, but ain't no way she's comin' this early. Damn Pryde for makin' me get up like this.' In his mind he mimicked his girlfriend's voice 'what if they're waitin' on you,' she says. 'you don't want to keep your friends waitin', she says. He snorted in mock disgust and took another sip of his scotch. 'Yeah, right. She just wanted to get here early so she could get some shoppin' in before they got 'ere. Damn makin' me wait.' As always, though, the thought of his lover made him smile and his gruff irritation faded. ''S alright, though, Kitty, shop all ya want to, luv. We've got all day.' He knew he could never tell her no, even if it meant getting up at such an obscenely early hour.

He was privately very glad she'd agreed to come along with him on this little trip. He didn't especially relish the idea of having to tell his old friend the rumor he'd heard last week, and Kitty's presence would, as always, help keep him steady. Besides, he knew that Kitty had been wanting to speak to Cable about his sister (his head still spun at that story), and he was willing to bet that Dom had taken his hint and brought her partner along. He hoped so- when she heard his news, she'd need the moral support, too. Even though Nathan could be an insensitive bastard Pete knew he'd be there for Dom when she needed him. He shook his head grimly. 'This ain't gonna be easy for 'er, but we gotta find out whether that asshole Tolliver was tellin' th' truth or not.'

Strumming his long fingers on the stained oak table, he reflected 'It's a long way fer them to come fer a just a rumor, but...damn if I'm gonna trust that to an air line, I don't care how 'secured' it's supposed to be.' In any case, Kitty had told him that all video and audio calls received at the mansion were recorded automatically, and that didn't sit well with him at all. 'Damn fishbowl,' he griped, as much at Excalibur's living conditions on Muir as at the mansion in Westchester. 'No friggin' privacy whatsoever. Parta this news ain't nobody's business but yers, and the rest of it... well, we'll talk about the rest of it after we do a little bit more diggin'.'

Sighing loudly, he glanced up at the clock and moaned. 'Damn, this is early.' Draining his glass, he stood up and stretched, feeling the inevitable call of nature. He stood up and picked up his empty glass. "Time to water th' daisies."

Pete stopped briefly by the bar in his way to the restroom, nodding a greeting at the inconspicuous man behind the counter as he passed. "Hey, mate. How's it goin'?"

The man's eyes scanned the room, then he smiled. "'ello, Wisdom. Pretty good, mate." His guarded eyes glimmered with a hint of mischief. "Where's that pretty lady friend of yours- she finally wise up and leave you? Think I can give her a call?" The warmth in his voice took the sting out of his teasing words.

The empty glass thudded on the counter and Pete laughed a good-natured warning at the grinning man. "Not if you wanta keep on breathin', Denis." He turned and headed for the bathroom, speaking over his shoulder. "And how about another one of those watered down excuses for Scotch ya serve 'ere?"

Chuckling, Denis made a rude gesture at Wisdom's back and fixed the drink. Shortly after Pete turned the corner into the Men's room an unfamiliar woman walked into the pub. The 'bartender' didn't recognize her, but this in itself was not unusual. Even though the Crown was a haven for intelligence operatives from various communities, almost as many ordinary people frequented the pub or stopped by for a midday drink.

Though the woman looked and carried herself like a typical London businessperson, he discreetly checked her out anyway- years of intelligence work had made observation second nature, and he was good at it (the main reason he'd been positioned here- that, and the fact that he, unlike some of the other operatives placed here before him, was actually a good bartender). Bartending at the Crown was more than a simple job - it took a truly skilled professional to interpret all the rumors that floated through this place.

As she walked over to the bar, Dennis scrutinized her features. Dark hair, green eyes- a figure to die for- and he'd never seen her before in his life. Something about her, though, made the sixth sense developed over a lifetime in the business tingle. 'I'll ask Pete when he comes out,' he decided. He asked in a bland tone "Can I get you something, miss?"

She sat down on a stool, a harried look on her face. 'He's checking me out,' Domino thought. 'Must not know me...Good. I don't recognize him, either. This makes things a whole lot easier.' Smiling brightly, she said in a clear London accent "Good morning. I'm early for a lunch meeting," she inclined her head towards the restaurant across the street. "Would you mind terribly fixing me a martini?"


Part 25

Stepping out of the restroom, Pete Wisdom stretched and glanced at the huge grandfather clock behind the varnished oak bar. Muttering an a mild imprecation about the hour, he walked over to the bar to pick up his drink. Denis stopped wiping the bar long enough to hand his glass of Scotch to him.

Pete sipped it and grimaced. "Denis, wot th' hell did you put in..." He broke off sharply as a disturbingly familiar scent assaulted his senses. Eyes round with fear, he sniffed the air delicately, and closed his eyes in dismay. The spicy perfume took him back in time, tripping circuits in his mind to bring back unwanted memories of another woman, years ago, who had worn that perfume.

He immediately began thinking the worst. 'Oh, bloody hell, no. I only know one person in th' whole friggin' world who wears that stinkin' shit, and she's th' last person me an' Pryde need to deal with right now.' His pragmatic side tried to reason 'Wot's th' chances of her bein' in this bar right now? Zero.', but the paranoia that years in the intelligence business had instilled insisted 'Still, though, with me luck an' those damn inbred X-types...'

His eyes swept over the bar in one fluid motion. Mostly the same patrons as when he left for the restroom - about the only difference he could see was the top of a well-coifed dark head sticking over a booth in the back. Making a note to check the person out when he walked back to his seat, he sighed in relief. 'Nope, no white leather lingerie wearin' obscenely rich American tramps here.' Downing the Scotch with one gulp, he motioned to Denis for another glass. The scent still lingered in the air, and his eyes narrowed. 'Just in case,' he decided, and raised the natural mental defenses that the telepaths in Black Air had taught him years ago.

Denis noticed his expression and frowned. Pouring the drink in one smooth, practised motion, he whispered to Pete "Everything alright, Pete?"

Wisdom replied in the same shushed tone. "I think so. Tell me, anybody come in here while I was in the loo?"

The bartender resumed wiping the bar. "Just one lady- that dark-headed looker in th' back. I've never seen her before- do me a favor and check her out for me."

Pete almost drooped in relief. 'Th' mind witch never uses disguises- I'm safe fer now.' He snorted "She th' one wearin' this nasty perfume?"

Denis nodded "Yeah. Little strong, ain't it?"

Pete stifled a sneeze. "You could say that. Yeah, I'll see if I know 'er." Taking a newspaper on the bar under his arm, he picked up his drink and headed back to his table, taking a brief detour to check out the lady in the back with the wonderfully (considering the blonde peroxide alternative) dark, dark hair.

That lady, too, had taken a newspaper out of the elegant briefcase she was carrying and was pretending to look through it as she sipped her martini. She had taken a seat in a back booth with her back to the wall and a clear escape route through the small window nearby.

'Alright, Nate,' she sent via their psi-link. 'He's not here yet, but I'm in position. All's clear and ready to go.'

Cable, comfortably situated in the restaurant across the street, answered 'Good deal, Dom. Just keep looking...let me know if anything's out of the ordinary. I'll let the others know.' He took a swallow of the excellent Guinness beer and actually smiled as he telepathically spoke to Psylocke, who was 'shopping' with Ororo and Logan in a nearby clothing store. After the British telepath agreed to both keep a loose psi-link with him and to keep her companions informed in case of danger, he sipped the beer again and sighed in genuine pleasure. 'This beats the hell out of Old Milwaukee.'

She took the last swallow of her martini just as the lanky Englishman turned the corner of the restroom. She made no outward reaction, just continued reading the paper. 'He's here, Nate.'

As Pete walked away from the bar, his steps were still light with relief. 'Damn, I'm glad that wasn't 'er. Alright, lady, let's see if I recognize you, then I can go sit back down and get back t' waitin' on Dom.'

When he walked by her table and casually glanced at her, he almost missed it. At first glance, she looked like everyone else- a businessperson taking a midmorning break to read the paper and get a nice drink. Only the flirty wink of the demure lady in the beige business suit tipped him off- Domino was an expert in camouflaging herself in plain sight.

Nodding a 'she's alright' signal to the watching Denis, who flashed him an appreciative grin, he sat down across from her. She sat the paper down and greeted him as she always did, though in the crisp London accent she'd used since they landed. "Hey, Pete. How they hanging? I missed you, you bastard."

Scooting so his back was against the corner, he sat his glass down on the table and met her gaze warmly. "You too, girl. I'm doin' pretty damn good, lately, Dom. What's up with you?" Before she could answer, his nostrils flared and his eyes widened in surprise.

"You! It's you, woman! You're th' one wearin' that shit!" Sniffing the air again, he coughed "Where th' bloody 'ell did you get this from? Do all Americans wear this bloody overpriced ox musk now?"

Her eyes glittered in genuine merriment. 'Oho!' In a sugary sweet voice, she smiled "Smell familiar? Remind you of anybody in particular?" She silently congratulated herself for wearing the stinking shit after all. She'd thought that applying it so liberally would help throw any possible tracking mutant off her trail- she'd forgotten Pete's history with the woman whose signature fragrance this was. All the better - it never hurt to tweak an old friend now and again, especially an old friend like Pete Wisdom.

All she made out from the slurred litany of obscenities spewing from his mouth was "soddin' American women' and 'warped sense of humor.' "I need another drink," he mumbled. When he'd calmed down and she'd stopped laughing, he looked up at her and managed a grin. "So, as I was sayin', how are ya, Dom?"

"I can't complain." Despite her jaunty tone and her lingering amusement at his reaction to her perfume, even through all the makeup he could see how exhausted she was. 'Ain't gettin' out of it that easy, Dom,' he growled, 'We'll talk about this later.'

"Fair enough, for now." Pete's rough voice was husked with concern, quickly masked. "You bring Muscle-boy with ya?"

She nodded "Sort of...He's across the street. We're psi-linked, so he hears everything we say unless I ask him not to."

Pete snorted "I fergit that 'e can do that now. I remember when all he could do other than bodyslide an' blow shit up with 'is huge funky guns was pull down yer zipper telekinetically when you wasn't lookin'."

Domino felt Nathan's amusement over their psilink, and she allowed herself a nostalgic smile at Pete's mention of the old days. As chaotic and harsh as things had been back then, sometimes she couldn't help but long for the simplicity of the mercenary life. At least then she knew she was fighting for the highest bidder and not some nebulous dream that despite her better judgement she was beginning to actually believe in.

Pete lifted his almost empty glass to his lips, hiding his own bemused grin. 'Damn, I wish we 'ad time to just sit 'ere an' get good an' drunk, maybe play cards an' talk about the old days.' The warmth quickly faded, though, at his old friend's next words, pitched so softly that only he could hear them.

"So. What's so important that I had to commandeer X-Force's plane and fly all the way over here?" She folded the newspaper neatly and placed it back in her briefcase and now focused all her attention on Pete in her disconcerting stare.

He shook his head "Damn, Dom, this ain't easy. Give me just a minute." He wondered privately for the thousandth time 'How th' 'ell am I supposed ta ask one of my best friends in th' whole world somethin' like this, much less tell her why?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Enough with the suspense, already, Wisdom. You got me here- tell me what it is I came for." She felt her pulse quicken and Nate's presence grow stronger in her mind as they silently agreed that whatever had Pete so rattled couldn't bode well.

He took a deep breath and continued. "You know that I know about Tolliver, an' about that whorin' Copycat who took yer place fer so long, right?"

At the mention of Tolliver, her expression changed from irritation at his obvious stalling to a stony emotionless mask. "Yes." Through their psilink, Cable gently reached out to soothe a tendril of fear that leaked from her battered mindscape and the year of agony his adopted son had put her through. He could see glimpses of dark memories of the year Tolliver held her captive flash through a mindscape still bruised from the traumatic psychic surgery of the week before, but she held them off. Cable growled to himself 'This better be good, Wisdom.'

Pete looked just as uncomfortable as she did. "Well...I need you t' help me get into his castle. And I need t' show you somethin' when we get there."


Part 26

Domino sat completely still. "Tell me exactly what you know, Wisdom." Recognizing the dangerous undercurrent in her tone, Pete sighed. 'This ain't gonna be easy.' In a quiet voice he answered "I know that Tolliver, or Tyler, or whatever 'e wants to call 'imself, kept you captive fer over a year. I know that shape shiftin' bitch, Wilson's old girlfriend, took yer place with Nate and X-Force."

At his pause, she muttered darkly "Go on."

He poured another glass of scotch, stalling "Damn mutant metabolism- gotta drink three times as much to get half as drunk- 'course you know that." She only narrowed her eyes impatiently and took another long swallow in reply.

Looking across the table at her, he sighed and continued in a softer tone "I know Tolliver took you around with 'im like a bloody trophy wherever and whenever 'e went durin' that time. I ain't never asked, but knowin' you I figger you've got a pretty good idea of 'ow to get in and out of 'is strongholds- even with an inhibitor collar and in restraints, you're too much of a professional not t' notice shit like that. I'm also pretty damn sure 'e keyed your mutagenic signature into 'is security system so even when you was all trussed up you could still come and go with 'im and all 'is little cronies, and with your luck that signature's still in the system. And that," he took another deep breath "is one of the reasons why I need you to 'elp me get into one of 'em. Nothin' else is workin'."

"And," he grinned at her, a genuine, teasing smile this time "If it's a prison or a dungeon on this planet, you've probably been in it and you can probably get into and out of it. Probably done made friends with th' guards, too."

She downed the remainder of her glass and poured another, sparing him a quick smile for his effort to leaven the moment. 'I guess that 'We've tried' means that he's still connected to Jardine and his bunch, officially or not. Either way, that's good- those resources might come in useful.'

"Fair enough so far." she nodded, though her eyes remained guarded. Noticing Pete's discomfort, she narrowed her eyes. 'Runt's not saying everything.' Alarms sounded in her mind, and when she spoke again her voice was cold and brittle. "So why do you...or Jardine," she had the pleasure of seeing him tilt his head in acknowledgement "want to break into one of Tyle...Tolliver's strongholds for, anyway? And what are you doing working for Jardine - I thought you were full time Excalibur now."

He crossed his legs under the table and grinned at her. "I'm now a consultant- Jardine's got me set up right. I just help 'im out whenever he's got somethin' suited for me, and I fit it into Excalibur's schedule. Trust me, we've got enough bloody free time over there, an' th' money comes in good. Anyway, 'ave you heard about 'ow we shut Black Air down, right?"

She nodded and noted clinically "Nice little piece of work. That bunch of assholes needed cleaning out a long time ago."

He managed a grim smile. "Thanks. It'd been nicer if we could've stopped the bastards before they ruined part of London, but... Better part than all. Anyways, when the smoke cleared and the inquiries began, I started 'earin' rumors about how some of th' top Black Air geneticists, th' ones that did th' really advanced stuff, were missin'."

"Well, it turns out that they weren't missin' after all. Jardine told me last week that a surveillance satellite caught a clear shot of some of 'em unloadin' some extremely high tech equipment near the ruins of an abandoned castle on the coast of Spain. Well, that got Jardine's people curious, and so they ran a couple of very interestin' tests. Turns out the entire area's using some sort of huge image inducer along with that security system I was tellin' ya about- I'm talkin' a seriously advanced system. This is Cable's bodyslide technology level stuff- it has to be Tolliver. Nobody else on earth has access to that kind of technology- it ain't even Shi'ar."

She took a deep breath, her patience wearing extremely thin. "I know exactly where you're talking about- it is Tolliver's, and trust me, I know just how damn advanced it is." Dropping the faux British accent, she enunciated clearly, afraid she already knew the answer "Now tell me, Pete... what the hell does all this have to do with me?"

He winced "Dom, I know some of what 'appened to you in there. When one of Jardine's agents caught him with a mutant-rights terrorist group, that little bastard Pico spilled his cybernetic guts about 'Petey the Dog', 'e called you."

She swore under her breath "Damn Deadpool." Looking him squarely in the eyes, she asked him "Then why the hell do you need me for this if you've got his guts spilled?"

"Because the obnoxious toerag wouldn't tell 'em a damn thing about Tolliver. They tried everything - and I mean everything - but 'e was just too afraid of Tolliver to say anything that would help us with him."

Domino kept her expression emotionless. She'd been held captive by more degenerate assholes than Nathan's dead 'son' - damn if she'd let anything Pete had to say about him upset her. 'Keep tellin' yourself that, Dom,' she grimaced.

Pete took a deep breath and continued "And that's why you've gotta come with me. Pico did tell us that Tolliver's pet doctors did some fairly extensive tests with yer DNA, but I don't have any idea whether he was tellin' th' truth or not. I also know that 'e did some other kinda experiments with yer tissue, and I know..." He took a deep breath "Hell, I don't know what else, Dom, but knowin' that sadistic bastard there just ain't no tellin'. And now that the Black Air scientists are workin' there... If those geneticists are still doin' the kinds of work that they were doin' for Black Air-" She held up a hand and he paused in mid-sentence.

Still psi-linked with Domino, Cable was desperately trying to listen to Pete's message, maintain the link with Betsy, and soothe the turmoil Pete's words caused in Domino's battered mindscape when he saw a huge purple-black door suddenly appear in her mind. Domino's exhausted psi-voice sounded 'Go away, please, Nathan. I need to do this by myself. I'll tell you everything later.'

He started to protest, but felt a gentle push in his mind. Betsy. The British telepath, still linked to him, mentally prodded him 'Come, Nathan. She's recovered enough to handle this now. Give her some privacy.' Grudgingly, he stepped through the door, but not without reaching out to her one last time.

Eyes closed, she exhaled in relief. Now she could stop worrying about the impact Pete's words would have on Nathan, anyway, and concentrate completely on what Pete was saying. She sighed shakily. Nathan was trying so damn hard to protect her from what his 'son' had done, but as she'd learned a long time ago there was nothing any of them could do but live with the nightmares, not just those born of Tyler, break down every once in a while and pick up and go on. As soon as Nathan broke their contact she abruptly felt an aching emptiness where he had been, but also a strange relief. Now she only had to worry about hurting herself- and she really didn't care what happened to herself.

She inhaled sharply, trying to shake off those dark thoughts. 'That's ridiculous, Domino. You wouldn't have survived this long if you didn't care what happens to you. Get real.' She wasn't sure, but she thought she felt a crisp violet sentiment of approval that wasn't her own.

Turning her attention back to Pete, she shook her head. "Sorry... I was talking to Nate. I made him break the link."

Pete nodded. "I thought y' would. I was gonna ask y' to in a minute, anyway. Now as I was sayin'..."

She interrupted "Yeah, yeah, sadistic bastards, DNA and tissue tests, et cetera, et cetera. Occupational hazard." She did *not* want to get into this with anyone, not even a friend as close as Pete. Last week's breakdown was still too raw.

He took another gulp of his drink. "Dom, they were doin' more than just tests at Black Air. Last I heard, those assholes holed up in Tolliver's castle were doin' shit like experimentin' on cloned embryos - and actually clonin' people- not sheep, not cows....people. Especially mutant people. I'm tellin' ya this because you need check this out for yourself."

She looked away for a moment, uncharacteristically silent and vulnerable. Pete felt his throat tighten and he awkwardly placed a tentative hand near her own.

Looking down at his hand, an elegant raven eyebrow arched. Domino's voice was laden with sarcasm. "Yeah, well...I guess there's worse things than being cloned- I mean, cloning gave us Strife and Madelyne Pryor, after all- and I guess Nathan, too."

Pete growled gently "That's my bloody point, you stupid git."

Ignoring his barb, Domino just shook her head and removed her hand from his. She continued in a conversational tone. "What else did that sawed-off little messenger boy say?"

Pete swallowed and edited Pico's comments. He'd had to be forcibly restrained from shooting ten hotknives down his cybernetic throat himself when he'd heard what the mocking little bastard had said- Dom had other things to worry about right now. "Just that his employer was back."

Domino's artificially green eyes widened. "His employer?" she whispered. 'Pierce or Tolliver? The lesser of two evils, please...' she sent a silent prayer to heaven.

Pete took a deep breath and nodded. "Tolliver apparently had standing instructions that if 'e was to die before Cable did, he was to be cloned and given a full memory implant so 'e could finish th' job. They're not just usin' his set-up- Tolliver 2 is th' one that's hired th' Black Air geneticists."

Domino felt bile rise up in her throat. Pete's earlier words had shaken her, no doubt, and she knew that they'd have to act on them, but the simple knowledge that Logan had killed Tyler and that he was dead and gone had made everything that had happened to her bearable. Now, closing her eyes she could see his mocking face, feel his fetid breath as he lay on her. She felt her stomach heave. Occupational hazard. Right. And knowing that he was Cable's son made it even worse.

She stood up. "Give me just a minute, Pete," she rasped. "I'll be right back."

She slipped out of the booth and walked slowly to the bar and sat down alone, by herself, to think.


Part 27

Kitty Pryde was happy. Using her phasing power to walk about half an inch above the busy London sidewalk, she whistled a jaunty tune as she started the long walk back to the pub where Pete was, arms loaded with several overflowing shopping bags that would have been far too heavy to carry across town had she not phased them along with her body. 'All those hours honing my phasing in the Danger Room turned out to be good for something 'sides fighting, after all,' She smiled as she readjusted her hold on one of the bags.

She'd had a very productive morning- the lack of crowds during the early morning shopping hours had allowed her time to pick up several of the books Meggan had asked her to look for and some prenatal vitamins that Moira had recommended for Amanda. And of course, several of the larger department stores had some great clothing sales, and a few of the lingerie stores had some marvellously silky things she'd especially liked... Her lips split in a wicked grin as she imagined her lover's reaction to a few of her special purchases.

She shifted the bags for better balance and a fuzzy green sleeve escaped the confines of one of the smaller bags. She carefully tucked it back in without losing a step. 'Rahne's gonna love this one,' she grinned, thinking of the emerald colored angora sweater that matched her friend's eyes so perfectly. Though Kitty and Rahne had never really socialized much during all the years they both lived at the Mansion (and indeed at first Kitty had been almost contemptuous of Rahne and the other New Mutant 'X-Babies') since Rahne's arrival at Muir the two had become quite close. A dark look flitted across her face. 'With Rachel and Illyana gone, though, I don't really have any other girlfriends around here...except for Meggan, and she's too busy worrying about how to keep Brian happy.'

A thick lock of chestnut hair fell into her field of vision and she tossed her head back, clearing both her sight and her thoughts. 'Not gonna worry about that today. I had a nice little shopping trip, Pete ought to be awake enough to be civil by now, and I need to be alert when Domino and Cable get here.' Thinking of the real reason for their trip, her mood soured somewhat.

When Pete had asked her to come with him to London for a meeting with Domino, he'd hemmed and hawed around the reason until she'd made him just come out and tell her exactly why he wanted to meet with the leaders of X-Force personally. She wasn't really surprised to learn that Pete wanted to meet with Domino- she'd known that Pete was good friends with the leaders of X-Force for a long time now. She was, though, appalled at the reason for the meeting. Her warm brown eyes narrowed, applying her considerable intellect to the problem. They'd had enough problems with Maddie - who had been her friend, dammit, no matter what else happened- and Jean, Strife and Sinister's cloned Marauders that she could definitely sympathize with the situation, not to mention the fact that Pete's friend had been held hostage for over a year while another took her place... Shuddering, Kitty tried not to think it- she couldn't imagine being separated from Pete and Excalibur for that long while a doppelganger pretended to be her.

As she always did when she wanted to make herself feel better, Kitty's thoughts turned to Pete. Over the course of the year they'd been together, whether late at night or the middle of the day, limbs twined together in the aftermath of love or just bickering over food, Kitty and Pete had slowly opened up to each other, gradually sharing their secrets and their pasts but never growing bored with the other. She told him of her time with the X-Men, and Pete told her about the years he'd spent in intelligence.

She'd been relieved to learn that not all of his experiences were bad ones. In fact, he'd found most of his years in Black Air to be extremely fulfilling, filled with fascinating work and colorful people. Domino, and to a lesser degree Cable, too, had figured prominently in many of Pete's more interesting stories. He'd hinted around that he was also acquainted with some other X-people, but when she tried to get him to elaborate his face assumed the stony quality she'd learned to associate with some of his darker memories, so she never pushed the issue.

She turned the corner and stepped across the street, her slim figure lightly skimming over the surface of the asphalt. Thinking back, she remembered how surprised she'd been to learn that the mysterious Domino was one of Pete's closest friends, but never a romantic partner, Pete had assured her. He'd burst out laughing when she'd asked him. "Hell, no! Ain't no way... Dom's too damn much like Nate fer anybody else but 'im- an' vice versa. I don't know why anybody else would even try, not that I'd want to. 'Sides, they're both crazy."

Given the stories he'd told about his old friends, she'd be inclined to agree- though none of the stories painted Pete in a very flattering light, either. She couldn't help but chuckle as she remembered one story that she'd painstakingly pried out of Pete- just the thought of him in drag in a New Delhi brothel just cracked her up. Very, very late one night when both were punch-drunk from lack of sleep, they'd exchanged some of their most embarrassing moments. She'd told him just one of hers, phasing in on Nick Fury and the Contessa de Fontaine during a...delicate moment when she was only thirteen. He'd laughed so hard at the idea (he'd worked with both in the past) that she'd gotten annoyed and told him to top her story, then, or stop laughing.

He'd agreed, but only because he thought that he had actually made her angry. She'd had to swear on everything she held dear that she wouldn't tell another soul. Pete had sworn quite adamantly that none of it was his idea- that Domino had done it all, that it was 'her and that bleedin' Grizzly's fault' and that he'd get her back one day, he would, even if she did 'save me bleedin' life by dressin' me up in some floozy hooker outfit and wig and paintin' me face like a two-bit tart t' get me out o' there.' At Kitty's look of disbelief, he grumbled defiantly "Those big bloody wankers walked right by me, they did. One of their big ol' guns even brushed one of my falsies." Pete had sat by the window in his room, taking drags from a contraband cigarette and blowing the smoke out the window. He had flicked the butt out the window and muttered "I looked just like Romany on a bad day." Kitty'd laughed so hard that didn't even fuss at him for smoking inside.

Crossing the street, she was surprised to notice that the Crown was only one block away- thinking about Pete had passed the time quite nicely. She solidified herself and walked the rest of the short way to the pub, her thin, strong muscles straining under the weight of her packages. With a final toss to get her thick hair out of her eyes, she idly checked her appearance in the glass windowpane near the door and stepped inside the pub.


Part 28

Domino stared at her drink, her thoughts as dark and clouded as the last of the scotch swirling around the bottom of the glass. She picked up the drink and quickly downed it. 'Damn Wisdom. Damn Tolliver.' Sighing, she raised the empty glass to get the bartender' attention. 'Damn Nate, too, for that matter.' She knew full well just how illogical blaming Pete and Nathan for her current situation was, but under the circumstances, she thought she was justified. 'Sonofabitches, every last one of them. Just what the hell am I supposed to do about all this?' The glass started shaking, very slightly, and she consciously steadied her hand.

Smoothing his features into an expression of perfect bartender innocence, Denis walked over to the bar where she sat. 'I don't know who this is, but Pete don't spend his pub time chattin' with strangers. And I know he ain't thinking of runnin' around on Kitty...Or at least he better not be.' Leaning against the bar, he plastered a smile on his face and asked "Can I get y' something else, Miss?" Denis studied the woman carefully for the telltale signs of the profession.

In a perfectly normal London accent, the woman replied "Thank you- I surely would appreciate it." With a weary sigh, Domino fell back into character. A quick glance at the man's expression had confirmed her initial suspicions- he was intel. She didn't feel like going into a specific cover identity right now- after her exhausting week and Pete's horrible news all she wanted was a hot bath and a long night's sleep. 'Dammit.'

She sifted through the contingency stories she kept prepared for just such situations. After a scant few second's consideration, her exhaustion and her warped sense of humor got the better of her. 'Herbert,' she decided wryly, smiling for the first time in several long minutes. Herbert always seemed to work- or at the very least discouraged further questions. Focusing her gaze at the 'bartender', she affected a pouty sigh. "It looks like I might have time to enjoy this one. I just called the office on my cellular, and it turns out my client rescheduled for next week. I don't have a lunch meeting after all."

Shaking his head sympathetically, Denis poured the drink. "Sorry to hear that. Looks like Pete kept y' company, though." Keeping his voice smooth and a smile on his face, Denis calmly tried to pry her connection to Pete out of her.

Her expression fell, and suppressing a grin, she told herself 'What the hell. May as well do this right, Dom...' "Oh, do you know Pete? He's an old pubmate of my ex-husband, you see..." Her voice held reams of meaning, none of it pleasant. "I shouldn't have been surprised to bump into Pete in a bar, after all," she sneered. "Good thing I did, though. Turns out he's the last person in London to hear about what that degenerate did." The iciness grew even more pronounced.

Denis coughed politely. "Er...um...excuse me?" he asked, his curiosity overcoming his more cautious nature. He'd had to suppers a shudder at the bitterness in her voice, though. He had an ex of his own, and that cold tone was far too familiar for his liking. Whoever and whatever this woman was, she was far too open to be intelligence of any sort, and no one had come in since she'd been here for her to distract him from.

Taking a deep swallow of the drink, Domino muttered a few coarse curses, the language totally incongruous with her polished appearance. At the startled look on the bartender's face, she had to carefully keep from laughing- she was actually taking a perverse pleasure in this. 'Been too long since I've been in the field,' she acknowledged, relishing even this performance. 'Face it, Dom,' she told herself. 'You've fallen into a rut. The kids have made you soft.'

Sipping the drink again, she continued in what she hoped would seem the time-honored confessional known to bartenders the world over. "My EX husband, Herbert. Don't be sorry for me- the wrinkly octogenarian he left me for is obscenely rich, and I'm taking them both for everything they're worth. Bloody perverts." Remembering the circumstances of her present situation, the vituperation in her voice was not hard to muster.

Ignoring Denis' embarrassed expression, she continued in acid tones, putting every ounce of credibility she could into the wonderfully ludicrous story "Little Timmy, our youngest- named after my father, he was- found him all dolled up and dressed up like a tart one mornin' after I left for work, wearing my jewelry and makeup, wearin' my underclothes!" She made her voice to slur a bit, allowing a bit of an under-class accent to creep through the careful crispness of her tone.

The bartender, trying his best not to meet her gaze, simply winced. Allowing even more vituperation to enter her tone, she continued "He was getting ready to leave to go visit his dodderin' old boyfriend." Denis coughed explosively, choking, and had to take a quick sip of the glass he kept under the counter to calm himself. Seemingly oblivious, Domino rushed on "Scared my baby so much he wet himself, bless his little heart- he's in therapy now- Tim screamed so loud the neighbors heard him, and called me on my way to work. I came home just in time to catch Herbert changin', but he'd already stretched my underclothes all out. And I thought I'd been gaining weight!"

Denis, shaking his head, just stared at her. Blithely continuing, Domino growled "He confessed it all. Turns out he always wanted to be a woman, an' now his friend's gonna pay t' get it done for him. Bastard," she finished, breathless "I'd like to save them both th' money and do the operation myself wit' a pair of hedge clippers. Mum always said there was somethin' strange about Herbert, but did I listen? Noooo."

'Not bad, Dom,' she grinned to herself as the bartender took a deep breath, his cheeks mottled crimson. 'Now he thinks I might be loony but I'm not dangerous- and definitely not a threat.'

At Denis' sympathetic sputterings, she stood up and placed a few bills on the counter. "Thank you so much for the drinks. Now if you'll excuse me, I forgot to tell Pete a few more choice bits of news about his old friend..." As she walked back to the booth, Denis just stared in amazement, shaking his head sadly and watching her sway slightly as she left. 'Damn waste, that is. Wonder how Pete knows that man?'

Sliding back into the booth, Domino rolled her eyes at Pete. "Well, that was fun." Opening up her briefcase, she half-heartedly grumbled "You could have told me the bartender was intel." Though she still looked tired, her eyes weren't quite as bleak as they'd been a few moments ago, and Pete sighed in silent relief.

"Oh, bloody hell, Dom," he said through a mouthful of chips he'd nabbed from a nearby table. "Quit your whinin'. You knew what 'e was from the minute you walked in th' door. What'd y' tell him?"

She made a very rude gesture at him, and he responded in kind. "I used Herbert. Been a while since I dusted him off, and he goes with this scenario pretty well- since your bartender had already noticed me and was checking me out, this gives him something else to think about other than the fact I might be who I am. Anyway, it was worth it- even if he does find out, I'm not too worried about you Brits- I haven't done anything to piss you off in a while. All this-" She made a dismissive gesture at her disguise "is just a precaution. Back me up, willya, when I leave, though. He'll ask, trust me. Make it good."

Pete chuckled under his breath "Herbert th' cross-dressin' homewrecker?" At her amused nod he clucked under his breath "Poor bastard. Maligned everywhere y' go- never gets t' defend 'imself - You scared that poor lady in Bogota half to death with that story..." Domino's lips twitched. "Poor bastard, my ass. That was a *long* time ago, and that's the only other time I've ever used him. Anyway, look at the bright side- at least he's not married to a harpy like me anymore."

Readjusting her bulging packages for a better grip, Kitty Pryde pushed the heavy oak doors open, her eyes automatically squinting as they adjusted to the much dimmer light inside the pub.

Stepping over to the bar, she dropped her packages at her feet as she looked around the room for Pete. Her expression soften when she saw the rumpled head sticking over the back of a corner booth, but before she could pick her packages up to join him a beautiful dark haired businesswoman she didn't recognize gracefully slid into the seat across from him and the two immediately began arguing. Neither had seen her come in.

An unrecognizable expression flitted across Kitty's face. Frowning at herself, she dismissed such thoughts as unworthy. 'Stupid, Kitty. Trust the man.'

Before she could cross the room to meet Pete, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Dropping instinctively into a ninja stance she'd learned from Ogun what seemed like an eternity ago, she whirled around to face whoever had touched her, hands positioned defensively near her chest.

Grinning broadly, Denis' eyes widened in surprise "Kitty, it's just me! Calm down there, girl...." He'd heard stories that Pete's girlfriend was good, but he hadn't expected reflexes like those. 'Very impressive,' he thought.

Kitty grinned sheepishly and her body, lowering her arms to her side. "Sorry, Denis. Things have been so crazy lately, I guess my guard's just up, you know? I didn't mean to do that...How've you been doing, anyway? How're the boys?"

Denis seated himself on one of the empty barstools and looked up at the young American. One afternoon when he'd been missing his two small sons, who were living with his ex-wife since their bitter divorce, especially badly, he and Kitty had had a long talk about them while Pete was doing some work for Jardine. It'd helped him a good bit, and he'd been particularly fond of Pete's young girlfriend ever since. Other than just doing his job, his affection for Kitty was just another reason he'd been suspicious of the crazy dark haired woman who'd been sitting with Pete.

In a proud voice, he answered Kitty "Oh, they're just fine... I'm seein' them about every weekend now. You lookin' for Pete?"

She grinned "Yeah, he's had the whole morning to himself. Time I came and graced him with my presence again." Denis inclined his head in the direction of the booth. "He'll be glad to see you, Kitty, trust me. See that woman sittin' over there with him?" At Kitty's slow nod, he continued "Pete'll appreciate the rescue, I think. I asked him t' check her out for me, but it seems they already knew each other. She came up here to get another drink, an' told me her life story in th' process - not that I asked, of course."

"Of course," Kitty murmured, mischief glinting in her eyes. 'Crazy woman - Pete -...this might be fun...' Pete had taken entirely too much pleasure mocking her old friends. She returned the favor every chance she could get, and from what she understood it might be all day before Domino got there and they got down to business. 'Might as well occupy myself,' she grinned.

"Thanks for the warning, Denis.'

As Pete's mouth opened to deliver a snappy retort to Domino's last gibe, his peripheral vision caught a glimpse of familiar chestnut brown hair. Twisting his head around, his thin features lit up with pure delight. "Pryde!" he mock-growled at his approaching lover "Y' bought th' bloody stores out, y' did. 'ow're we gonna get all that junk 'ome?" Rising from his seat, he slipped his arms tightly around her in greeting, the warm embrace betraying his pleasure at her presence.

Still struggling with the bags, Kitty returned the as best she could. When he finally loosened his grip, she mock commanded "Here, you stupid git, take some of these, and don't worry your pretty little head about it." At his vulgar reply, Kitty threw her head back and laughed loudly. The two stood like that for a few moments, a bit away from the table, just talking to each other.

Domino felt oddly like a voyeur. Watching their reunion, she had to squelch her own feelings of jealousy at the unabashed intimacy between the two. 'Since when have I been able to be that open with anyone, to hug someone in public?' she wondered, while a darker voice whispered 'or even admit you want to, eh? What would Nate do if you walked up to him and grabbed him like that? In public, or even at all, hmmmm?'

Pushing those uncomfortable thoughts away, she studied Pete's girlfriend. She'd met the girl before, at Scott and Jean's wedding, but they hadn't spoken at length. Domino had only stayed for the ceremony and long enough to record a gruff congratulations on Kitty's video album, but feeling uncomfortable being around so many people who knew each other so well, she'd left soon afterwards. In the few times any of their teams had met since then, she and Kitty had rarely spoken. She barely knew the girl.

She examined Kitty critically, feeling strangely protective of Pete, though she'd never admit it. 'I've got few enough friends left, dammit,' she told herself. 'And with Logan and Storm here Pete's sure as hell gonna get looked over with a fine-tooth comb. Kitty may as well have her turn.' Listening to the two banter back and forth, seemingly oblivious to anyone else in the room, Domino smiled. Pete was giving her time to compose herself.

Domino chuckled silently as Kitty scored a particularly good zinger. The girl could handle herself with Pete, that much was certain anyway. 'That's unusual enough in itself, but...Hmmmm...she's attractive enough, I guess - not quite as flashy as Pete's accustomed to, but that's probably a good thing...nice natural agility... She looks older than nineteen, though I guess I did at her age, too.' Domino closed her eyes at the memories. At nineteen she'd already been working with the government, and at twenty she'd hooked up with Cable and the Six Pack. With a grim smile, she realized that the age difference between Pete and Kitty was very similar to the one between herself and Nathan when they'd first met. 'Funny,' she thought, but she was more saddened than amused.

Turning her attention back to the present, she thought 'I guess she's been through a lot, too, though...' Domino had, of course, read Kitty's file, as she had with everyone associated with the X-teams. Even she'd been surprised at some of the places the X-men had taken the thirteen year old Sprite.

Coughing loudly, Domino broke into their conversation. "Excuse me...I hate to interrupt, but people are starting to stare."

Breaking off her retort to Pete's last joke, Kitty looked around the room. The very few other patrons in the pub were too immersed in their beers or their newspapers to even notice the two. Remembering Denis' warning, Kitty grinned. This was gonna be fun. "Oh, I'm sorry, hello," she gushed, walking closer to the booth and extending her hand. "Doesn't look like this rude git" she motioned at Pete, who stood behind her, a bemused expression on his face "Is going to introduce us. I'm Kitty Pryde." Her voice was extremely bright and cheery, much more so than normal, and Pete looked at her askance.

Domino merely inclined her head politely and shook the younger woman's hand, pleased to find a grip almost as firm as her own. "Nice to see you again, Kitty."

Years of training and her natural intuition enabled Kitty to conceal her surprised reaction. 'See you again? Have I met this woman before? Who is this?' At the woman's unexpectedly coherent tone, Kitty's manner changed instantly. She glanced at the smirking Pete, frowned, then looked back at the woman. "I'm sorry...I don't think we've met before."

Pete, now burdened with several large shopping bags, motioned for Kitty to sit down. "Sure you 'ave, luv," he answered as she slipped into the booth. Dropping the bags beside the table in a less than careful way, he pointedly ignored her muttered rebuke. Pushing the bags partially under the table with a little more care, he sat down next to her, their shoulders touching, as he continued. "Y' told me y' met each other at that weddin' last year." Kitty's eyes widened in dawning comprehension as Pete continued "But y' probably wouldn't recognize 'er dressed like this. 'ell, I barely did. Kitty, this is Domino. Dom, Kitty."

To her credit, Kitty recovered very quickly. "Sorry about that, Domino," she grinned. "Denis warned me there was a crazy woman over here with Pete."

Pete glanced between the two women, parted his lips, then shook his head. "Nah. Too easy."

Ignoring Pete, Domino smiled "I've heard a lot about you, Kitty, both from the Brit here and from the rest of the X-Men - at least the ones I'm on speaking terms with, anyway." Domino snorted, and Kitty's lips twitched in amused understanding. "In any case, it's nice to finally meet you face to face." Domino grinned wickedly "I've got lots of good stories to tell you- maybe when we get a chance the two of us could sit down and talk." At the obvious delight in Kitty's face, Pete's expression fell and he took another, longer sip of his drink.


Part 29

Nathan strummed his fingers on the table impatiently. Checking his watch for the second time in as many minutes, he groaned silently. Though it'd only been an hour since Domino had shut him out of her mind, it seemed like much, much longer. When they'd still been linked, he'd been able to sneak a quick peek at the periphery of Pete's thoughts - the younger man had been so concerned about the news he had to tell Domino that some residual anxiety had leaked through the considerable (for a non-psi, that is) mental defenses he'd raised. Nathan had been able to catch a few glimpses of Pete's thoughts, and he hadn't much liked what he'd seen.

He took a long swallow of his beer, finishing it off. Gently placing the heavy glass on the oak table, he leaned back in the chair. Taking a deep breath, he began using the meditation techniques of his childhood to try and clear his mind of the images he'd picked up from Pete, his fist slowly clenching and unclenching under the table as the pictures flickered through his thoughts.

Logan walked over to the back of the store, linen jacket slung over his shoulder. Ororo was somewhere upstairs, and Betsy had left them as soon as they'd walked into the huge department store, claiming to have to find something to wear to Warren's stockholders meeting. Strolling to a back corner, he found a plush velvet chair right beside the outside of the dressing rooms and gratefully sunk into it. His acute senses detected the sound of rustling clothing and a very familiar scent coming from the only occupied room in this grouping of changing rooms, and with a start he realized that he hadn't ended up here by chance. He'd unconsciously been tracking her.

Not wanting to analyze his motivations, he settled himself deeper into the chair. Closing his eyes, he sent a thought into the air, knowing she was keeping a loose link on everyone in their party in case of a sudden danger.

'Hey, Betts,' he sent, his mindvoice surprisingly strong 'Come show me what yer tryin' on fer Wings' meetin'.'

Her voice sounded in his mind, colored with more than a tinge of amusement. 'That's not exactly what I'm trying on, Logan. I seriously doubt that Warren would appreciate me wearing this particular gown to his precious meeting.'

Logan grinned broadly. 'One o' those outfits, eh, darlin'?' As long as he'd known her, she'd had a penchant for the exotic, one of the things he found most appealing about her.

'You tell me.' She stepped around the corner and strode across the carpeted area like it was a catwalk, confidence beaming out of every pore. Clad from throat to ankle in a sheer black sheath with only a few *very* thin black strips under the sheath for modesty's sake, she tossed her head back carelessly and walked over to where he sat, eyes opened wide. She met his gaze directly, a small smile playing on her lips. "So. What do you think?"

It took a moment for him to regain his breath. Casually shifting his jacket over his lap, he rasped "Ain't bad, darlin'. Ain't bad at all."

Domino chuckled absently at Kitty's deadpan description of Pete's adjustment to country life on Muir Island, but her mind was somewhere else. No matter how entertaining the conversation was, and how much she was enjoying the company, her mind kept drifting back to Pete's words and what she knew they'd have to do. Refusing to allow herself to dwell on those thoughts, she refocused her attention and caught the tail end of Pete's sarcastic response to another one of Kitty's pointed jabs.

"...monkeys. So ha ha bloody ha, Pryde. She's real funny, ain't she, Dom?" Though he was doing a fairly good job of feigning annoyance at his lover's teasing, Domino could tell from the warmth in his voice and the way he clasped the younger woman close to him that for the first time since she'd known him, Pete Wisdom was actually happy.

"Oh, shut up, Wisdom. You oughta just thank God that she's puttin' up with you in the first place, though I don't know how or why. Damn sure ain't for your looks." Domino grinned at her old friend, genuinely pleased for him.

Pete growled "At least she ain't gotta worry about me rustin'...."

Rolling her eyes, Domino lapsed into silence while Pete filled Kitty in in hushed tones about Domino's Herbert story. Kitty laughed so hard that she wound up gasping for breath, and had to go up to the bar for a glass of water.

When she got there, Denis nodded knowingly at the Kitty's flushed face and giggles. "I told you the woman was crazy." Kitty collapsed in another fit of laughter.

When she returned to the booth, both Pete and Domino were sitting quietly, both thinking of the difficulties of the mission ahead of them. Kitty immediately sobered "Domino... are you alright?"

Blinking, Domino responded "Uh...yeah." Glancing at her wristwatch, she swore under her breath. "Shit..." Closing her briefcase, she snapped the brass hinges shut and downed the rest of her drink quickly.

Exchanging puzzled glances, Pete and Kitty turned to face her. "Dom? You sure?"

Tucking an errant lock of hair behind her ear, Domino nodded. "Yeah, sure. Listen, I need to get out of here...Nosy-boy over there's not gonna buy the two of you putting up with me bitching about Herbert for much longer."

Pete leaned forward, instantly all business. "Yer right. Listen, have you and Nate made arrangements for the night?"

"Yeah- We're staying at the St. Martin's...oh, shit, I forgot to tell you." Domino grimaced. 'Damn. I was hoping to ease this into the conversation...'

Pete's expression grew instantly suspicious. "Wot?"

Domino sighed and sat her briefcase back on the table. "We had a couple of tagalongs from Westchester. Believe me- it wasn't my choice, either."

Pete exploded. "Dammit, Dom, there's a friggin' reason why I called you like I did! This ain't no damn trainin' mission for yer team!"

In a quiet, icy voice Domino replied "Where the hell do you get off lecturing me, Wisdom? Who taught you that flonquin' code in the first place? Don't you think I know this is serious?" In a low voice, she explained about Psylocke's vision and Logan and Storm's insistence that they come along.

Kitty leaned forward, her heart thudding in anticipation. "Logan? Ororo? Here?" As excited as she was to see her dearest friends again, she couldn't suppress a twinge of anxiety at the prospect of them meeting Pete. Though Excalibur now accepted Pete, Kitty knew that it had taken some time for them (and her, she had to admit) to get past his brusque exterior and realize Pete for the person he truly was. Though she'd told Pete all about her time with the X-Men, and told him that she wanted them to meet soon, she had been planning on introducing Pete to her...well, for all intents and purposes her family in a quieter environment when they'd all have time to get past the inevitably awkward first impressions. 'Still, though...Logan and Ororo¡¦Betsy, too....' She almost laughed out loud in sheer pleasure.

Pete exhaled sharply. 'Shit. This is gonna be tough enough without 'aving t' deal with Kitty's bloody family...' Turning his attention to the situation at hand, he shook his head. In a much quieter tone, the only apology Domino knew she'd ever get, he responded "Alright, then. If they're 'ere, they're 'ere. Ain't nothin' we can do about it except go on."

Though she privately agreed with his sentiments, Domino couldn't help a sarcastic "How kind of you to understand."

Kitty held out a restraining hand "Stop. Hold. Waitaminute. Where are they at right now? When can I see them?" Her warm brown eyes gleamed in barely suppressed excitement.

Domino raised an amused eyebrow at Kitty's reaction. 'Oho...Pete's in for a fun time...I'd hate to get the kind of inspection he's gonna get from Logan and her goddesship...' In response to Kitty's question, she replied "We're supposed to meet back at the hotel- Nate's gonna let Betsy and the others know when I'm done here. Do you want me to give them a message?"

Pete looked at the yearning in Kitty's face and made an abrupt decision. 'Wot the hell. Easiest way to handle it, anyway.' "You're staying at the St. Martin's, right? Well, me and Pryde'll get a room there, too. We can all get somethin' t' eat tonight, talk about th' particulars of everything, and maybe Kitty an' 'er old friends can catch up after we get everything sorted out." The expression on Kitty's face made the trepidation he felt worthwhile.

Domino nodded curtly, her thoughts once more pressed towards the reality of the situation that she knew they'd have to confront soon. "Sounds good," she agreed. Standing up, she took her briefcase and looked down at Kitty and Pete. "It was a *true* pleasure to meet you, Kitty," she smiled, and with a start she realized she actually meant it. "We'll be under the name Sarah McNeill. Come to my room about eight- I'll have everybody in there."

Kitty grinned, her features lit up in a luminous smile "We'll be there."

Pete's lips twisted in a wry grin, and he shook his head "I'll see y' there, Dom."

Nodding goodbye at the couple, she stepped away from the booth and walked toward the door, careful to stop by the bar and bitch at the bartender for a few more minutes. When she finally closed the heavy oak doors behind her, she leaned against the wall, completely exhausted, and opened up her mind to call Nate back again.


Part 30

Taking a deep breath, she collected herself and consciously opened the mindlink. 'Alright, Nate, I'm done,' Domino sent cautiously. As soon as she felt his surprise at her sudden message, she partially closed her mind to his, allowing only his thoughts to come through. The memory of the dull ache that had permeated her skull for so long was entirely too fresh, and she just didn't think she had the energy to repeat everything Pete had told her to Nathan without at least a *little* bit of time alone to process it. It was going to be difficult enough to decide just how to present the news that his 'son' was back, much less what the horror of what he had planned.

Still sitting in the restaurant a block away, Nathan had just called a server over to his table when Domino's message burst into his thoughts. Though startled at the abruptness and gruffness of her tone, he was more disturbed by the poorly concealed fear that her hastily thrown up shields hadn't quite disguised in time.

Her mental shielding, which they both knew wouldn't even slow him down if he chose to look through it, was a long recognized sign between them. As one of Earth's premier psis linked with a non-psi, Cable had always had the definite advantage in their mental link. Knowing how very little Dom liked being at a disadvantage in anything, Nathan hadn't taken her acceptance of the bond lightly. Her shields, however rudimentary they might be, were a red flag telling him not to look any closer, and he'd learned to respect that. Two intensely private people, they'd learned over the years what to share and what to keep back from each other. As much as he wanted to delicately pierce her mental barriers and find out just what the hell Pete had told her that was frightening her so badly, he wouldn't betray that trust.

'Dom? Are you alright? What did Pete say?' Nathan sat up abruptly in his chair, ignoring for a moment the nice waitress he'd summoned for another drink.

Domino groaned. 'Dammit, Nate. I am not in the mood for a debriefing right now,' she thought to herself. Focusing her thoughts in his direction, she sent a terse message 'Get everyone else together and get settled in the hotel - Pete and Kitty're gonna meet us there tonight. I'm going for a walk.' She completely severed the link, not caring for the moment how frustrated she knew he would be.

Clasping her briefcase close to her, she began walking slowly in the opposite direction from the hotel. 'Dammit, Nate, you've disappointed *me* enough lately,' she fumed, trying to justify her shutting Nathan out yet again. Despite her best efforts, she knew that her ire wasn't truly directed at Nate, though he'd certainly done enough to deserve it lately. Her heels clicked rhythmically on the sidewalk as she stalked down the street, her thoughts slowly turning to the true root of her anger. 'Bastard,' she growled, already descending into the dangerous mood she associated thought of Tolliver and his pets.

Nathan jumped out of his chair, muttering a curse that wouldn't be invented for millennia yet. In his rush to get to the hotel and meet Dom, he inadvertently knocked down the poor waitress who had been hovering near his table, waiting for his order. Several abject apologies and a big tip later, he was out the door.

A few blocks away, Logan was comfortably sprawled in the plush velvet chair outside the waiting room. With some not so subtle encouragement, Betsy had decided to buy the dress, and had casually given the fawning salesgirl her credit card to ring up the purchase. Though the clerk didn't recognize Betsy's new appearance, she did recognize the inevitable air of wealth and privilege that clung to Betsy and had treated her accordingly. Her assurances (verified as sincere, thanks to Psylocke's telepathy) combined with Logan's obvious physical reaction to her appearance in the gown had convinced her that her instincts about it has been accurate.

She'd been tempted to peer deeper into her teammate's mind as well as the clerk's, but his obvious admiration of her appearance had rendered deeper inspection unnecessary, not to mention her reluctance to invade her friend's privacy in such a manner. She usually had few qualms about using her telepathy in whatever manner served her best, but Logan was worthy of more respect than that. In any case, the flashes of his thoughts and emotions that leaked through her mental shields were more than enough to verify her suspicions.

When she stepped back out of the changing room, Logan's eyes fastened on her. Nodding his head in the direction of the departing sales clerk, he'd unabashedly ran his eyes up and down her now casually dressed frame. "Wings is a lucky man," he'd teased with a smile.

Her eyes narrowed, and before she could stop herself she muttered "He certainly thinks he is." She rolled her eyes sarcastically. 'But I'm not so sure anymore,' the thought skittered across her mind as she considered the fierce arguments between herself and her feathered lover and the coolness that had pervaded their relationship as of late. Her face tightened almost imperceptibly, but Logan's keen senses immediately perceived her distress.

His weathered features creased sympathetically. "Trouble in paradise, eh, darlin'?" he growled. Consciously suppressing the images of gleefully beating the shit out of Warren that immediately sprang to mind, he contented himself with the promise that he'd have a nice long talk with the insensitive Mr. Worthington when they returned to the states.

Stepping over to the couch where he sat, she motioned for him to slide over. He did, and she gracefully sat down beside him. "Things haven't been 'paradise' between Warren and I for some time now, Logan," she murmured softly, knowing that he wouldn't press her for more information than she could readily give.

Catching her slim hand in his own, he rumbled softly "Then he's a damn fool, Betts. Ya ain't gotta say no more-" He broke off suddenly, but even with her telepathy turned 'off' she sensed Logan's anger and genuine concern for her, tempered with the soft flickerings of desire that she'd felt ever since she'd stepped out of the dressing room. Closing her eyes briefly, she opened them to look directly into his eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered softly, the corners of her perfectly shaped lips curling in a grateful smile.

"UH-HMMM," an embarrassed cough broke the heavy silence that hung between them. Turning slowly around, her composure completely intact, Betsy squeezed Logan's hand and released it, part of her cursing the girl's timing while another part was very, very glad for the reprieve. "Yes?" she asked regally.

The sales clerk blushed fiercely. "Uh...I'm truly sorry to bother you, Ms. Braddock, but your friend over there -" She pointed in the direction of the counter, where Ororo was staring at them, her arms crossed against her chest, an unreadable expression flitting across her face. "She told me to ask you if you were ready to go yet..." Refusing to meet either pair of eyes, the sales clerk busied herself with picking at an imaginary piece of lint on her sweater.

Before Betsy could answer, a harsh, tired voice sounded in her mind. 'Psylocke. Domino and Wisdom are done - I need your team to meet me in the lobby of the St. Martin's in thirty minutes -' Nathan's mindvoice was preoccupied, and she could sense a deep worry beneath the flatness of his tone. 'This does not bode well,' she sighed.

Raising a wry eyebrow at Ororo, she felt rather than heard the low rumble of laughter echoing in Logan's chest. Suppressing her own bemused chuckle, she smoothly rose from her seat beside him on the comfortable couch. "No need to apologize. We're certainly ready to go- if my purchases are ready, that is," she smiled reassuringly at the clerk, all the while carrying on a rapid mental conversation with Nathan 'What are the plans? Did all go well?'

Logan rose beside her, and along with the clerk they walked over to where Ororo stood beside the sales counter. As they walked, Elisabeth listened to Nathan's terse explanation of Domino's scant report while she reassured the clerk that she was indeed pleased with her shopping experience.

After assuring Cable that they would indeed meet him at the hotel within the hour, she took her card back from the sales clerk, who walked behind the counter to ring up Storm's purchases while the three whispered softly among themselves.

"I hope I didn't interrupt anything," Ororo spoke softly to Logan, who simply stared at her, an amused expression on his face.

"Certainly not," Betsy responded calmly, then proceeded to inform both her teammates about Cable's message. By the time the sales clerk was finished with Ororo's gift - a long, incredibly supple leather duster to replace Gambit's well-worn and battle-torn jacket - the three were more than ready to depart.

Beaming with pleasure at the plump commission of the two women's purchases, the sales clerk watched the three leave the store, her curiosity piqued by the strange trio. Her attention was soon diverted by another customer needing her assistance, though, and after a few more seconds of speculation she gave them no more thought.


Part 31

Nathan paced back and forth in his suite, eyes narrowed and fists clenched to his side. He didn't know what was going on- after Domino's abrupt exit he'd found Pete psionically, but despite his best efforts the bloody Brit had point-blank refused to answer any of his questions. Despite his tight-lipped attitude, though, Nathan knew that the younger man had some idea about what he was going through. About halfway through Nathan's spiel, Cable had caught a sudden glimpse of Kitty as seen through Pete's eyes and then a fierce empathy from the hardened agent when he put himself in Cable's position. Pete brusquely agreed to meet them a few hours earlier than originally planned, and then had told Cable to 'Get the bloody 'ell out of my mind before I change me mind.'

After almost sprinting to the hotel, Cable had gone ahead and checked in the rooms Domino had reserved for them. After making agonized small talk with the elderly desk clerk (who looked vaguely familiar, something he'd worry about later) he was able to disengage himself from the conversation and rush upstairs to one of the three two-bedroom suites Dom had reserved for them.

Despite the St. Martin's reputation as a safe haven for people in 'the business', he scanned the room for bugs. Finding none, he finally collapsed into one of the thick tapestried wingback chairs beside the thick bulletproof window to wait for Betsy, Logan and Ororo. 'Heaven knows when Dom'll come in,' he blew an annoyed stream of air through pursed lips as he considered his partner's recent actions, conveniently forgetting his own behavior. 'She seems to be working on her own agenda lately- doesn't matter what the rest of us think or feel.' Twitching uncomfortably in the unreasonably small (for his bulk, anyway) chair, he leaned forward and slipped out of his constricting suit coat..

Tossing it haphazardly in the direction of the elegant sofa, he just shook his head when it missed and fell right on the floor. 'Why am I not surprised?' he sighed. Leaning back in the chair, he closed his eyes and made a herculean effort to actually relax.

It didn't work. Truly alone, mentally and physically, for the first time in days, thoughts turned toward his companions, especially Domino. His impatience at having to wait and concerned irritation lent a dangerous cant to his thoughts. 'Where the hell are they?' he growled, though he knew it had been only a scant few minutes since he'd 'spoken' to Betsy.

Digging his strong fingers into the thick padding of the chair's arms, he sat alone, by himself, stewing. 'I don't have time for this amateur shit! And Dom- she knows better than to run off like that right in the damn middle of an op. She's been actin' so strange lately, even with everything that's going on. Ever since last week, when she...' his face colored with embarrassed anger as he remembered the inadvertently sharing of Domino's liaison with...

He tilted his head, eyes hooded with jealousy. "Who the hell was he?" He muttered aloud. 'She never really told me who he was,' he realized. The only times he'd gotten up the nerve to ask her details they'd both either been far too drunk for civil discussion or their respective emotions were far too close to the surface after the painful psychic surgery of last week.

Underneath the disguising contact lens, his left eye flashed with fury. 'I've really been too busy to think much about it this week, but... I wonder just who the sonuvabitch was.' Still-vivid images of Domino's release shared through their psilink seared through his thoughts, and he jumped out of the chair as if scalded.

"I can't flonquin' take it anymore!" Growling under his breath, he grabbed his coat and stormed out of the room.

"So, Elisabeth, what else did Nathan say about Kitty? Is she happy? Is she well?" Ororo didn't even try to suppress the excitement in her voice. She would see Kitty within a few hours, and hopefully they would have a chance to talk and catch up with each other. 'Oh, my Kitten, I have missed you so much.'

Striding a few feet ahead of the other two, Psylocke kept her face forward, studiously avoiding eye contact with either her companions or the strangers passing on the street. "I told you all Cable said, Storm. I wish there was more to say." What she hadn't told the others was Cable's almost palpable fear when he related Domino's terse version of Pete's news. Whatever it was Domino wasn't telling him had literally terrified him, and she'd never known Nathan to be easily frightened. Insensitive, yes, but not a coward. Stupid, yes. Selfish, yes.

'After all, he is a Summers,' she thought bitterly, her pride still smarting from the memory of the backlash of her fling with Scott Summers a couple of years ago. She could now justify her own behavior- she had been under the influence of Kwannon's less than moralistic psyche and really hadn't wanted to do it-- but Scott had no excuse. As a result of their lackluster dalliance her relationship with Jean, the only other telepath on the team, was only now healing.

And Warren- even he'd thrown that up in her face when they'd argued the night before she left. 'When will you be back? Who are you going with? Logan? Cable? Couldn't have the father, so you'll go after the son, eh?' At that last crass comment, Betsy had icily reminded Warren of his own indiscretions and then turned her back to him, effectively freezing him out of her thoughts. Warren had immediately realized that he'd gone too far, and after many profound apologies (which seemed to ring hollow to her exhausted ears) the argument ended as all of their arguments seemed to do- with heady, passionate, mind-numbing sex after which Warren told her over and over again just how sorry he was and how much he loved her and how he couldn't live without her. He'd sworn that he'd never let his jealousy come between them again, and they'd once more tumbled into each other's arms, each seeking to heal their hurt once more through physical release.

'Sometimes I think that's all we even have anymore,' Betsy thought sadly, and briskly rubbed her hands up and down her upper arms for comfort. She had known that Warren's assurances were in vain, no matter how much he thought he meant them. She'd known for some time that despite his close friendship with the X-Men's leader, Warren was still carrying some resentment over Jean choosing Scott over him so long ago, and was horribly insecure about Betsy and Scott's brief affair. And Logan? Remembering the warm butterflies - she chuckled - she'd felt in the department store, Betsy gingerly considered her feelings about her long time friend. Not coming to a satisfactory conclusion, she shook her head and kept walking. She didn't want to think that Warren may have actually been right about Logan.

At Betsy's obvious unwillingness to talk, Storm turned to Logan, who was conspicuously silent beside her. She almost tried to engage him in conversation, but she recognized the preoccupied expression on his face and wisely decided against it. 'We'll be there soon enough,' Ororo decided. 'Only one block, now, according to Betsy's map.' While still in the plane, and after some discussion, it had been decided that the British telepath would imprint a temporary telepathic map of London into all of their short-term memories, with key points and escape routes highlighted. Nathan, she recalled, had been especially approving of what she considered a paranoid gesture. 'In any case, I shall see Kitty soon enough, and we can get to work on setting things right.'

Beside her, Logan was trying to sort through his own feelings of hesitant desire for Betsy. Surreptitiously watching her lithe figure lead them through the crowded streets, Logan growled silently in frustration. 'Just what th' hell am I supposed ta do about this?' Unwilling to voice his concerns or devote even more attention to worrying about Domino, Logan decided to focus on the happier prospect of seeing Kitty and meeting Pete, whom he knew by reputation if not personally. He wasn't at all convinced that he'd approve of the man - he had very high standards for Kitty, and some of the things he'd heard about the man were iffy at best - but he was determined to give him a fair shake. Heaven knows he'd done some things he wasn't proud of. 'Kitty's a big girl- we raised her right. I trust her judgement. Unless I'm bad surprised, I think the boy'll be alright,' he reassured himself, but couldn't help a feral grin anyway, imagining the examination which, despite Logan's best intentions Wisdom would still get from himself and - 'oooohhh...,' Logan winced sympathetically- from Ororo. 'I wouldn't want ta be in his shoes tonight.'

Lost in thought, he almost didn't hear Betsy's quiet "Here we are." Only Ororo's hand on his arm, gripped tight in excitement, made him slow down. Looking around the elegant front of the old hotel, he nodded "Yep. Ain't changed much..." and opened the door for the ladies.

Walking into the spacious, classically decorated lobby of the hotel, Betsy smiled pleasantly at a passing businessman. "I'll get our room," Betsy nodded to the others. Before she could turn to the desk clerk, however, a familiar figure stormed down a staircase into the lobby.

Ororo smiled brilliantly, pleased beyond words at the evening's prospects. "Nathan!" She stepped over to him, and he favored her with a perfunctory smile.

"Come on. I've got the rooms," he barked at the group, and spun around to fly back up the staircase, taking them three at a time.

Ororo's pleased expression hardened into an emotionless mask, and she turned calmly to the others. "You heard him," she ordered, and turned back to follow Cable up the stairs.

Betsy and Logan shared a glance, and her voice sounded in his mind 'Bodes very ill, indeed, wouldn't you agree?' He nodded gruffly, but grinned at her anyway. 'Maybe so, Betts, but he can't help it. He's just a Summers, after all.' She stifled her own answering smile, and they followed Ororo up the stairs to their rooms.

She walked down the street slowly, briefcase still clutched tightly under one taut arm. She'd been walking aimlessly around the historic streets of old London for the last hour, doing her best to blend in with the horde of tourists and businesspeople all going about their merry ways while she turned the news over and over in her mind, desperately searching for some way to pierce a hole in Pete's theory that Tolliver was back and his ideas of what that meant. It was a difficult task- Pete's revelation of Jardine's intelligence reports and Pico's confession combined with her own all too vivid memories of that hellish year as Tolliver's captive really left no other possibilities other than the ones Pete had suggested. After two hours of pounding her brain for another explanation, she had come to the ragged conclusion that Pete was right.

With this realization, her gay mood turned obsidian and her face wore an ugly snarl as she turned down the street towards the hotel. The bustle of the afternoon streets had only heightened the restlessness she'd felt ever since she'd received Pete's first message. Clenching her fists tightly, she could literally feel the tension building within her. For the first time in her life she actually wished they were back at the mansion. 'Whatever else I might think about Xavier and the X-Men,' she thought almost wistfully 'They've got a hell of a gym- what I wouldn't give for a nice quiet evening alone in the Danger Room...'

With that blissful image in mind, she turned the corner and walked across the street to the entrance of the St. Martin's, her features hardened against the weariness she felt. Her years in the mercenary business had taught her to never ever show weakness. Feeling vulnerability was fine, but to show it- especially to be a woman and show it- was a good way to get yourself killed or worse.

Assuming character again, she sauntered into the lobby and over to the check-in desk where she got the room numbers of their reserved suites. Smiling politely at the seemingly doddering desk clerk (she knew better), she went to the elevator and ascended to the top floor.

Knocking on the first two suites proved futile, so she took a deep breath as she raised her knuckles to rap the third door. 'Damn, Nate, go easy, please...' No sooner had the first rap sounded than the door telekinetically opened, and she stood staring at a room full of waiting X-Men, looking for all the world like a family of hyenas about to pounce on their kill.

"Miss me?" She smiled half-heartedly, then stepped into the room and closed the door.


Part 32

Closing the door behind her, Domino surveyed the room coolly, trying her best to put her very private feelings aside and deal with the situation like a professional. Walking across the spacious room, she felt rather than saw the stares of the others trained at her. Plastering an expression of calm composure on her face, she took a great deal of comfort from the fact that her outward expression belied none of the fury she felt at having to explain the intensely personal situation to the others.

'It's going to be hard enough to tell Nathan about Tolliver... I don't...' The idea of spreading open her private pain for all to know and see - 'Like a friggin' salad bar,' she winced- was completely and utterly repugnant to her. She'd spent most of her life maintaining her privacy, and now, if things went as Pete feared, everyone in this room would know her most private agony. Facing the bluntly curious gazes of everyone in the room, she nevertheless squared her shoulders against the burning embarrassment and walked over to the couch where Logan was sitting. She was a professional. This was a job. She could- no, she would do this. 'Keep tellin' yourself that, Dom,' she muttered to herself, 'But there's no way I'm gonna just spill my guts about everything...they'll learn what they need to for the mission, and that's all.' Beside her, Logan favored her with a reassuringly crooked smile, and she had to avert her eyes to maintain her composure. She couldn't bring herself to speak.

Across the room, Ororo and Betsy sat on either side of a long, elegant sofa. Ororo parted her lips to speak, but before any sound issued forth she felt the telepathic equivalent of an elbow in her ribs. 'What is the meaning of this, Elisabeth?' Storm, shocked, questioned Psylocke 'We must be briefed on the situation before we can continue.' 'That may be, Ororo,' Betsy answered, returning her attention to the fascinating interplay of emotions coming from the others 'But why don't we give her a few moments, hmmm?'

Cable pivoted sharply and resumed his pacing in front of the huge central window, fuming at Domino's silence. He'd thought that as soon as Domino opened the door that she'd tell him what happened, dammit, to either relieve his fears or realize them, but no... She just sat there, looking for all the world like she'd just had a pleasant afternoon stroll while he'd been in here ripping his soul apart worrying about her, thinking about whatever news Pete had, thinking about the still unsettled events of last week. His thoughts darkened- her obvious unwillingness to share the news, whatever it was, with him, with them, just added to his already dangerously high level of frustration and impotent anger, and finally he couldn't take it any more.

Unable to hold his peace any longer, his soft voice pierced the silence. "Just where the hell have you been, Domino?" he asked quietly, every word slicing through the air like daggers.

Domino's eyes narrowed, and it took every ounce of self-control she possessed to refrain from jumping up and telling him just what she thought about the whole situation. One glance at the others stopped that reflex, though. Beside her on the couch, Logan tensed, and she could see the shiny tips of his newly readamantiumed claws poking though the outlets on his hands. Though she appreciated the gesture, she gently placed a restraining hand on his arm. The last thing she needed was for Logan and Nate to get into yet another of their testosterone contests, especially when the news about Tolliver, the sorest spot of all between them, was revealed.

Ororo and Betsy, though...they looked like flip sides of the same coin. Ororo was leaning forward, unabashed curiosity at the situation coming out of every pore. Domino suppressed her own growl, and quickly forced herself to look past the other woman to Betsy. At first glance, Psylocke's expression revealed nothing, but to Domino, highly skilled at reading body language, she appeared equally interested. 'At least she had the good manners to hide it,' Domino snorted, then returned her attention to Nathan, who was point-blank staring at her.

"Well?" He asked, his voice reverberating with command authority. His pale grey-blue eyes bored into her coldly, and she met his flinty gaze with her own icy violet stare. He didn't flinch at all, but she thought she heard a wispy chord of jealousy leach into her thoughts. "What do you have to report?" He looked like a general demanding a status report from an underling.

'That's it,' she decided, her black mood flaring into dangerous red. Tiny ruby sparkles framed her vision, and she had to bite her lip to contain the stream of obscenities that wanted to pour from her lips. She contented herself with sending an acid thought through their psi-link. 'You sonuvabitch. I cannot take this shit any more. I am not in the mood for this today, and there's no way in hell I'm making this thing into a bloody bed time story for the gossip mill at the mansion. I'm not saying anything until they get out of here.' She'd intended to try to break the news about Tolliver with a modicum of sensitivity, but Nate had pushed her far past that point now.

She was rewarded with his mental flinch and, though his facial expression didn't change, she thought she saw the coldness in his eyes thaw slightly. By that point, she really didn't care. Without taking her eyes off Cable, she addressed the room, her voice amazingly calm. "I believe Nathan and I have a few things to discuss, if you all don't mind."

Logan, sitting beside her, rumbled his approval. 'Good girl, Neena,' he thought. 'Ain't none o' our damn business. Tell us what you want to later.' Wolverine's keen senses, almost as good as telepathy in determining emotional states, were almost reeling at the swirling maelstrom of emotion-laden scents emanating from everyone in the room. Anger, jealousy, frustration, worry- they'd blended into a heady mix that had kicked his own dark thoughts into overdrive. Whatever it was between Domino and Cable wasn't good, wasn't good at all, and he for one wanted to get out of the way and let them sort it out between themselves. He knew he was dangerously protective of his women friends, and didn't want to test the tenuous new tolerance between himself and the elder younger Summers. "Alright, darlin'," he agreed amiably, rising up from the couch. "You just let us know when everything gets sorted out- we'll be right next door." He hovered near the sofa, waiting for her to acknowledge his words.

Domino didn't take her eyes off Cable, but her expression did soften slightly at Logan's understanding. "Thanks, old man," she whispered gratefully. Nodding, he walked across the room to the door to the hallway, shooting Cable an openly poisonous look as he passed. Cable didn't even look up at him, his pale blue-grey eyes locked in a furious battle of wills with his partner.

Betsy rose smoothly to join him. "Certainly, Domino. Simply let us know when you're ready."

Storm, still seated on the sofa, didn't move. "You two go ahead," she waved her hand negligently, in command mode. "I need to hear this briefing."

Taking a deep breath, Domino ventured a terse thought through her shared psi-link with Cable. 'You want to handle this or should I?' she sent, and couldn't help a small rush of satisfaction when Cable, flustered, broke eye contact first. 'Good,' she thought grimly, 'Hypocritical bastard.'

Betsy, aware of the delicate situation, turned to Logan beside her. 'Play along with me,' she sent, rapidly outlining her plan to him. He grinned at the simplicity of it. 'You got it, Betts.'

Cable, his face set, took a deep breath to ask Storm to leave. Before he could speak, though, Betsy strode over to her teammate and friend and whispered something in her ear. Ororo's eyes widened in surprise, and she rose swiftly in one smooth motion, heading towards the door with fluid grace.

"Never mind, Nathan" she said abstractedly over her shoulder as she headed towards the door. "I do expect a full briefing when I return...." Before Cable could answer, she was gone, Logan walking behind her with a wide grin on his face.

Nathan stood speechless for a moment, and then turned to Psylocke. "What the hell did you just tell her?" he asked in awed gratitude. Maybe Betsy wasn't as big of a bitch as he had thought.

Betsy gave him a smug smile before she turned to leave the room. "Oh, I lied to her," she told him blithely. "Told her I sensed Kitty and Pete in the lobby. We'll play if off when we get down there, say we must have missed them."

Domino, still seated on the plush couch, chuckled throatily. "Good job, Psylocke," she smiled, the first genuine one since she'd left the Crown.

"Thought you'd like that one," Betsy's lips twitched, and she turned to follow her teammates out of the room. She caught Nathan's gaze before she stepped completely out of the door. "That's two you owe me," she whispered, and then she was gone.

They were finally alone. Cable shut the door, and locked it for good measure. Leaning his forehead against the cool door, he stood like that a moment, gathering his strength. Finally, he turned to face Domino, and the look on her face made him almost wish he hadn't.


Part 33

After double-checking the lock on the door, Cable looked across the room at his long time partner. The cold silence between them made him wish, not for the first time, that he possessed just a little bit of his sister's least used mutant gift so he could turn back the last few minutes of time and start this 'conversation' over. He glanced at Domino imploringly, desperately wishing she'd make some smart-ass standard-issue Domino wisecrack and move past this little squabble. She didn't even look at him.

While Cable was stalling at the door, Domino had managed to situate herself more comfortably on the couch, kicking off her hated conservative pumps and curling her legs under her. Slipping out of the constricting linen blazer, she casually tossed it to the side, not even noticing when it draped itself perfectly across the arm of a nearby chair. Breathing a little easier, she leaned back into the warm cushions of the sofa, debating with herself whether or not to blurt out the news to Nathan or use a little more tact. 'Not that he deserves it, the bastard,' she fumed.

When he finally turned to face her, she just stared at him, eyes narrowed and cold. It took great effort to refrain from verbalizing her thoughts. 'You sonuvabitch, you want to know what happened? I'll tell you what the hell happened. Your perverted son and his quack doctors are trying to give Sinister a run for his money, and they're using part of me to do it...' She rubbed her upper arms, trying to warm herself against the chilling thought.

From where he still lingered by the door, Cable could feel their psilink actually tingling with her suppressed fury and fear. He briefly considered opening his mind to her, confronting her in the most intimate way he knew how, but the memories of last week's blistering headaches were still too strong for him to risk exposing his mind to her anger.

Eyes closed, he leaned against the cool door and took a moment to collect himself. He hadn't meant to interrogate her like that in front of everyone, but dammit, the few hints he'd gotten from Wisdom were so damn ominous, and he was so worried.... And then, when she walked in, looking so damn breezy, not saying a word about what they'd come here for, he hadn't been able to help himself. Fists still clenched in impotent anger, he very nearly snarled the still-unanswered question again and only the knowledge that too much was at stake for him to allow his emotions to overcome him again stopped him.

With an effort, he separated himself from the situation as the Askani philosophies of his youth taught, expanding his perceptions to achieve an objective center of calm. Analyzing the situation logically, he was shocked to realize that what he'd interpreted at indifference had actually been herculean efforts at self-control. Now, without his own emotions blinding him, even the slightest exercise of his telepathy detected the thick tendrils of anxious dread emanating from her. Embarrassed at his earlier outburst (and how close he'd been to repeating it) he offered a more apologetic smile in her direction. She ignored that one, too. He really didn't blame her.

At her stony silence, he sighed deeply and made his way slowly across the room, taking his time, choosing his words carefully. He'd already let his own frustration and worry get the better of him once, and given the volatile nature of both of their moods right now he knew he'd better take it slowly or risk even more pain for both of them.

Stepping closer to the plush couch where she sat, he crouched down, squatting in front of her. Domino, arms still wrapped tightly around her chest, met his gaze but didn't speak. Later on, when he thought about it, he would be forced to admit that it was her uncharacteristic silence that had frightened him most of all, but at the moment all he cared about was calming the both of them down and finding out just what the hell happened. Shifting closer to her, Cable reached out a hand, a man looking for reassurance, all traces of the arrogant general gone. "Dom...please talk to me." His deep baritone voice was strangely soft.

She exhaled sharply, part of her still wanting to lash out, to blame him for everything that had happened to her. Looking into his eyes, though, she knew that the actuality of their situation was far too horrible to play any more games. This little dance of emotions had gone on long enough.

"Sit down, Nathan," she said quietly, and though she didn't take his outstretched hand she didn't brush it away, either. Breathing a soft sigh of relief, he joined her on the couch, careful to leave enough room so she wouldn't feel crowded. He knew she had always needed privacy, space to work through things, and he cursed himself that he hadn't remembered that sooner.

They sat like that for a minute and, when she finally spoke, her voice was low and distracted, and sounded far older her years. "Are you sure you want to know what happened, Nathan? Everything?"

He nodded sharply, only his eyes betraying his fear.

"Alright, then, Nate." Domino took a deep breath before she continued, a bit shakily. "I don't really know how to tell you this, so I'll just tell you. Tol...Tyler," she corrected herself, "Tyler is alive."

Cable blanched and, leaning forward, he gripped her arm tightly. "What?" he whispered, words so light they barely had substance. "Tyler's dead, Dom. Logan killed him..."

Domino, eyes closed against the memories, answered him tightly. "Yeah, well, that's not such a permanent thing in your family..." Swallowing hard, she wrenched her arm free. "Nathan - he left orders to have himself cloned if he died before he...hell, I'm sorry, Nate...before he killed you. I know you thought things had gotten better between the two of you, and maybe they had, and he just didn't have a chance to change his orders before the insanity struck." The explanation sounded weak even to her.

Cable stared blankly at the wall, feeling his world shatter around him. "No," he whispered. "No. He's not back here. He's finally at peace, in a better place, with Aliya." Domino's expression softened in sympathy at the mention of Cable's beloved dead wife. She more than anyone knew of the pain that loss had caused him, and she closed her eyes against the inevitable barrage of memories shared through their psilink. 'Damn Tolliver,' she thought bitterly, careful to keep her expression calm.

He reached out blindly, grabbing her hands again. Oblivious to her grimace of pain, he squeezed them tightly, clinging to the reality of her actual, physical presence beside him as his mind instinctively tried to open up their psilink. "That can't be right, Dom, dammit, I saw them, when I almost died after Onslaught. I talked to them!" Voice twisting to a sob, he choked "Domino... He forgave me! Finally...after all these years, after everything that happened between us, he forgave me for leaving him to Stryfe so long ago..." She knew the pain that decision had caused him through the years. It had been such a vivid repetition of what he considered his own abandonment by his father, and only in recent years had he learned the truth about that. 'Just another way he thinks he's failed the world,' Domino sighed, and opened her mind to him.

Allowing the link, Domino carefully hid her own feelings behind the strongest mental shields she had. If he'd been more coherent, more in control, she knew she wouldn't have had a chance at hiding such intense emotions, but as it was he was barely able to speak, much less pry into her thoughts, which were gleefully rejoicing at the image of the real Tolliver dead.

Holding her own very different emotions at bay, Domino comforted him as gently as she could, squeezing his hands reassuringly. "I know, Nathan. I'm sorry..." 'I'm sorry I wasn't the one to kill him the first time,' she thought viciously, but left those thoughts unvoiced, careful to keep her voice soft and reassuring. 'This is what we do,' she thought somewhat sourly, as Nathan held onto her, much as she had to him earlier 'We hold each other together when we fall apart and push each other away when we feel strong enough...'

"I'm sorry, babe, but he's back," She used the rare endearment, hoping it would calm him, beginning to get worried at the depth of Cable's pain. In truth, she had anticipated anger from Nathan, or at the very least guilt, but she'd not expected this vast sorrow that poured into her through their psilink. Marshalling her strength, she gently ended their link, unwilling for his pain to soften her own rage. He barely noticed.

Cable looked up at her hopefully, eyes gleaming with unshed tears. "Maybe...maybe we can get to him now, stop the cloning process before it starts..."

She took a deep breath. "I am truly sorry, Nate," she answered, this time really meaning it. "But it's already been done- and the clone's been given a full memory implant, too, so he knows everything the old Tyler did." His hands still clasped over hers, she ran her thumb reassuringly over his, trying desperately to soothe him, to get him to pull himself together. 'I don't have the energy for this,' she thought wildly, close to tears of rage and sympathy herself. Not for Tyler, no, never for him, but for the pain he'd inflicted from beyond the grave on this man who'd borne far more than his share already.

Her next words, hateful to her own ears but necessary for him to hear, came from some hidden reservoir of strength she hadn't known she possessed. "Nate... listen to me!" She ordered sharply, and some part of her registered approval when he dully looked up at her. "This is not the Tyler you raised. This is a clone- just like Stryfe wasn't you, nor you him, this isn't Tyler. If you made peace with him, then you did. This doesn't change any of that..." Not wanting to push Cable past his limit, Domino held off telling Cable the other parts of Pete's news. When he heard what she had to tell him, his feelings would almost certainly change, and she wanted to give him a chance to work through whatever residual feelings of pain he still had about leaving his adopted son behind and the warped man that act had created.

As she spoke soothingly to him, not meaning a damn word she said, something clicked inside her. Calming Nathan had somehow freed her from her own paralyzing fear. Thinking about the pain Tolliver had caused them both, considering the evil the man had brought into their already chaotic lives, the anger condensed into a familiar cold, calm fury that she welcomed, embraced. This, she could understand and deal with, and the black melancholy that had enveloped her since the meeting with Pete lifted slightly. Tolliver may have trapped her once, but damn if he'd do it again. She was ready for him this time, and when Nathan heard Pete's news, he would be, too.

Releasing her hand, he muttered "I know that, Dom...it's just...." Shuddering, he turned away from her for a moment, closing his eyes tightly. When he opened them again, she was still sitting beside him, almost preternaturally calm. He took her hand again, infinitely more gently than before, running his fingers lightly over the bright red marks his thick fingers had left on her pale skin. "Sorry," he whispered lightly, his voice surprisingly light and clear. "'Preciate it, Dom."

"No problemo," she smiled warmly at him, remembering for the first time in a while just why it was she'd stayed with this man all these years. "Now...are we gonna sit here holding hands all afternoon or am I gonna tell you the rest of the story?"

At his amused reply, she steeled herself again and described to him in crisp clinical tones just exactly what Pete had told her. Then, when he asked in a strangled whisper, she proceeded to tell him the things she'd hidden from him for so long. She told him just exactly what all had happened to her during her year as Tolliver's toy, and nodded in grim satisfaction as the sorrow in his expression turned slowly to rage.


Part 34

Sitting beside her on the plush sofa, Nathan listened intently as her cold dispassionate voice spoke matter-of-factly of his son's depravity in the tests his doctors had put her through, the violations she'd suffered, the hopelessness and anger of knowing that she had been completed replaced by an impostor and no one had known the difference. He averted his eyes in shame at that last, unbidden memories of Vanessa running through his thoughts. As she described Tolliver's abuses in clinically graphic detail, his fists involuntarily clenched so tightly that the short blunt fingernails dug perfect red crescents into his callused palms. With every word she spoke, his rage grew until the sorrow and pity he'd felt for his lost son transformed itself into a burning hatred that was so thick he could barely breathe.

He tried to close his eyes against the horror of her quiet words but, every time he tried, the ghastly images she described appeared again and again, so he just sat there beside her, biting back the bile rising in his throat, fixing his eyes blindly on her emotionless face. Each cold word burned itself into his permanent memory until his vision swam with fury and disgust at what her association with him had cost her. He thought he would vomit.

When she finally finished, she stared at him grimly, artificially emerald eyes searching his face, gauging his reaction. Finally discovering a hatred equal to her own, the facade cracked and she smiled, a tired curling of the lips that didn't quite reach her eyes. 'I hated to tell you this, Nathan, but you need to know just what kind of monster Aliya's son was.'

When it was clear that she had finally finished, he looked bleakly away, thoughts churning with what he'd just learned. He'd instinctively recognized her inflectionless tone for what it was, a professional self-defense mechanism for dealing with the atrocities that were unfortunately all too commonplace in their trade. 'I ought to know,' Cable thought bitterly, knowing that he too had spent years blocking out all human emotion after the death of Aliya and his Clan's defeat at the hands of his 'brother' Stryfe. He'd done a pretty good job of it, too- until he formed X-Force and reunited with his family, about the only thing that brought him any kind of pleasure at all had been his association with the beautiful smart-assed young woman mercenary who'd joined his band and his life.

Comparing that young- though already jaded- girl to the exhausted woman who sat beside him now, her face so composed, he felt his heart lurch inside his chest. 'I knew it was bad- we've been through too many break-down sessions not to know that much- but damn, Domino...why did you hide this for so long?' Closing his eyes again, he broke the silence with a thickly whispered "I'm so damn sorry, Dom. I...I wish you'd told me all this before."

She glared back at him and answered sharply "*I* wish you had asked." He recoiled from her glacial tone, and the hurt guilt in his eyes only partially assuaged anger from the perceived presumption in his tone. Taking a deep breath, she shrugged. "It's really no big deal, Nathan," She spoke casually, some semblance of emotion seeping back into her voice now that the ordeal of telling Nathan was over. "Shit like that happens- you know that as well as I do. It's part of the life. I just wanted you to know so that you'd know what we're getting into."

He reached out a hand and touched her face again, the pain and guilt he felt at the situation making their dampened psilink almost tingle with need. His gentle fingers caressed her cheek, and she felt a dangerous vulnerability rise within her. Swallowing, she drew again on her cold center of calm to turn her head away, hoping he understood her reasons why. 'Can't afford this right now, Nate...'

Nathan's face blanched. Jerking his hand back as if burned, he rose awkwardly from his seat beside her on the couch and walked stiffly across the room to the window, arms clenched tightly to his sides. Turning to face her, his voice was soft "So what do you want to do now?"

Domino raised a wry eyebrow. "Do? Right now? Find Tolliver and roast him slowly on a barb-wire spit." She glanced at her conservative wristwatch "But considering the time, and the company we're keeping, I think we probably need to make some decisions about how we're gonna brief our little 'team'."

The team in question, still dressed in the garb they'd worn shopping, had settled themselves in the lobby to 'wait' for Kitty and Pete. In the meantime, Psylocke had called a trusted employee at Braddock Industries and had their luggage brought from where they'd left them in her London office to the lobby of the St. Martin's. Ororo had been too preoccupied with looking for Kitty to even notice when a young employee had dropped the bags off, taking the opportunity to suck up to Ms. Braddock in the process. After dismissing the young man, Betsy had caught Logan wistfully eyeing his bag of comfortable clothing more than once, and she herself had to admit that the prospect of changing out of this conservative, constricting garb was more than appealing. 'Not to mention these damn contacts,' Betsy grimaced. Ever since Slaymaster blinded her and Mojo replaced the eyes of her original body with video prosthetics, she'd absolutely abhorred the idea of any kind of artifice near or around her eyes. She recognized the necessity of the disguising contacts, and didn't complain when she had to wear them, but she would secretly delight when she could take the damn things out.

Ororo looked crossly at the antique grandfather clock in the corner and sighed. "Are you certain it was Kitty's mindpattern you sensed? We have been waiting quite some time now, and she has yet to appear."

Psylocke crossed her legs and shrugged. Sending a delicate telepathic probe upstairs, she grimaced at the painful psychic residue the discussion had left. 'Whatever the hell it was must have been bad, but it seems to be over. I suppose it's been enough time,' she thought. "Perhaps I was mistaken," she casually replied to Ororo. "Oh, well. She'll be here soon enough." Logan, sitting beside her on one of the couches in a corner of the spacious lobby, turned his head to hide his smile.

Ororo frowned at her teammates. "Very well. I shall simply leave a message for her with the desk clerk. We have business to attend to upstairs, in any case." Rising from her seat, Storm walked purposefully over to the check-in desk to dictate a message for Kitty.

Still seated on the couch, Logan watched his old friend leave, then turned to Betsy. When Ororo was out of earshot and otherwise occupied with the hotel clerk, he stood in front of Betsy and extended a gentlemanly hand to help her up. Lips twitching in a small smile, she took it and rose gracefully to stand beside him, her slim hand still clasped in his callused square palm. The warmth of his grip seemed to travel up her arm, and she felt once more the same dangerous excitement creep through her abdomen that she had felt in the department store. 'Oh, dear,' she thought belatedly, guilty thoughts of Warren warring with the warm pleasure of this so-far innocent flirtation with Logan.

Logan looked up at her, craggy features creased in amusement and another, deeper emotion. "Well, Betts, whatcha say? You ready to try again?" He released her hand gently, and paused. "Keepin' 'Ro from drivin' Nate and Dom crazy, I mean."

She raised a wry eyebrow at his sly double entendre. Doubt darkened her smooth features, and she answered him honestly, as he deserved "I don't know, Logan. I think it shall require some thought." 'How different he is from Warren,' she considered. 'By this point in the trip Warren and I would either be fighting or sitting here crying over our respective problems. Even so, we've been through so much together, and the love is still there, if horribly battered and bruised...' She smiled softly at Logan and whispered "Let me think about it." To her surprise, she found she meant it.

He smiled gently, chestnut brown eyes twinkling with understanding, and nodded at her. "That's a good idea darlin'. You let me know what you decide."

A clear, commanding voice sounded over his shoulder. "Decide about what?" Storm inquired curiously, already grabbing her cotton canvas travel bag from the pile beside Logan on the floor.

"About what we're doin' for dinner," Logan answered, eyes still fixed on Betsy's sculpted features. He winked at her, and bent to grab both his canvas bag and another, larger garment suitcase, presumably Cable's.

Betsy laughed, a deep, lilting sound that cut through the seriousness of the moment. "Yes, indeed," she smiled at Storm. "What would you care to do this evening? Logan is quite hungry, apparently." She returned his wink, and was rewarded by a deep, gravely chuckling of his own. She delicately picked up her designer bags in one hand and grabbed Domino's leather suitcase in the other with surprisingly deceptive strength.

Upstairs, Domino sat in the tapestried chair, pulling the last of the blasted bobby pins from her hair. She half-heartedly aimed them at one of her shoes, tossing them into the hollow formed by the narrow, inhumanly uncomfortable pumps. It was no real surprise when they hit their mark- her reflexes and skills had long since returned to normal after the ordeal that Gryaznova bitch had put her through. Domino rubbed the back of her neck idly, still feeling the scar that the now-removed implant had caused. 'And they wonder why I hate friggin' doctors so much,' she sighed and tried her best not to think of the other doctors, Tolliver's doctors. She pulled the afghan she'd retrieved from one of the bedrooms closer around her, trying to ward off the cold.

The last of the pins gone, she began briskly running her fingers through her hair until the dark tresses at last flowed freely around her shoulders. It had taken some doing, but she and Nathan had worked out a tentative plan to present to the others. Cable had then excused himself to the bedroom, ostensibly so he could phone the mansion on a secured line and tell them all was well, but she knew better. Whenever he received an emotional blow, especially one of the magnitude she knew he'd suffered today, he needed some time to process it alone. 'Probably mediating,' she decided. 'Dead to the world. A bomb could go off in here and he'd barely notice right now.'

It was a trait she shared, she knew, at least the need for privacy if not the meditation. Oh, she prayed occasionally- Roman Catholic childhood faith never quite completely leaving her- but Nathan's Askani practices had always seemed more practical than soothing to her. 'Pain control, biofeedback techniques, fine,' she thought 'but as for all that 'What is, is' business-' She snorted. 'I'm too tired to think philosophy right now.' Languorously shifting in her seat to tug the tight pantyhose off, she tucked them into the foot of one of the cast-off pumps, she exulted in the quiet of the room. 'Amazing how much just a little breathing room helps,' she thought to herself. Now that she'd gone ahead and told Cable, the dread of having to relive what Tolliver had done had almost completely dissipated. All that was left was the ass kicking, she grinned, and felt curiously relieved at the weight that just telling Cable had lifted. Untugging the pale silk shell from the waist of the linen skirt, she breathed in deeply, closed her eyes, and leaned back into the soft chair.

'Peace and quiet...ah....' she sighed to herself, relaxing, sinking deeper into the cushions of the elegant chair. 'If I could just have a day or two of this I might actually be alright....'

A few moments later, the sweet silence was broken by two sharp raps at the door and an imperious, albeit highly muffled, voice.

"Nathan! Kitty was not there- let us in! I wish to speak to you about something!"

Domino exhaled sharply, feeling the earlier irritated tension return immediately at the sound of Storm's melodious commands. 'I'm just not gonna worry with her right now,' she decided, trying to forcibly command herself to relax again. 'Just get her out of here, Dom, then go back to relaxin'.'

Summoning up her sweetest voice, she walked over to the door and called out "Nate can't talk to you right now, Storm... Go on to one of the suites. We'll call you when we're ready to brief the team."

Outside the door, Storm paused briefly. Betsy and Logan, standing to one side of her, glanced at each other quickly but neither said anything. Betsy sent 'Let's let them handle this one by themselves. Domino's alone. Nathan's gone in the other room and Ororo's got to learn that she can't bully her around like she can some others...' Logan nodded in unspoken agreement, his keen hearing catching even the faintest sounds from the other room.

Storm planted her hands on her hips in grim determination. "Domino. I do not have time for these games. Let us in the room, NOW."

Inside the room, Domino's eyes flew open at the curt command. 'Did she say what I thought she just said? I think she said what I thought she just said.' Eyes narrowing to deep jade slits, she muttered a staccato growl, all pretences at good humor gone. "Storm. We. Are. Busy. Go. Away. We'll call you in a little while."

The other woman snorted. "I do not think so. Open that door."

Domino's lips twitched angrily. 'Alright, then, if that's what she wants to do. I'm not in the mood to play nice.' Regretfully pushing away the image of opening the door and punching the other woman in the jaw, she grinned wickedly as an even more appropriate response sprang to mind.

Stepping quickly out of her linen skirt, she tossed it behind the door and slipped out of the linen shell. Grabbing the afghan from the chair, she ran lightly back to the door, pulling her fingers haphazardly through her hair to make a wild, unruly mess. Breathing in and out rapidly for a second, she then held her breath to make her skin flush even through the makeup. Conscious that the other woman was waiting, she quickly popped one of the green cosmetic contact lenses out and wrapped the afghan around her.

Completely nude except for the afghan, she opened the door slightly. Huffing and puffing like she was out of breath, she looked at directly into Storm's feline eyes and sighed. "I told you we were busy, Storm," she growled, allowing the afghan to slip down to show more skin. "Now what do you want?"

Staring directly into the other woman's disconcertingly purple/green gaze, Ororo's eyes widened in stunned hurt surprise. "You...were...busy?" She questioned brokenly, taking in the other woman's obviously dishevelled appearance. Coffee-colored skin flushed with embarrassed anger as she put the situation together, Ororo drew herself up to her full height and choked "Kitty is not here yet." She paused haughtily, trying to regain control of herself. "Call us when you are...done." Her voice dripping ice, she pivoted sharply to stalk down the hall to the other suite, electricity almost visibly sizzling around her enraged form.

Noticing the amazed gazes of Betsy and Logan, Domino winked conspiratorially at the two. Psylocke, now telepathically well aware of the details of the prank, was struggling to contain her own ribald laughter. "Looks like you could use your clothing, dear," she chuckled, and stepped inside the room long enough to deposit Domino's suitcase on the ground.

Logan followed long enough to do the same for Cable's bag. Touching her arm with a rough hand, he chastised half-heartedly "Ya oughta not done that t' 'Roro, there, darlin'." It had been all he could do not to burst out laughing out there in the hall, and his words sounded hollow even to himself.

Domino rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right, old man. Now you two get on out of here before the weather witch thinks we've made an orgy and she got left out..." When they'd left, she shut the door gently behind her, locked it carefully, and put her clothes back on. As an afterthought, she opened the door and hung the 'Do not disturb' sign on the doorknob, a broad, self-satisfied smile on her face for the first time in ages.


Part 35

Kitty leaned against the wall, patiently waiting for Pete to finish the last few drags of his cigarette before stepping into the waiting elevator. Shifting her small black travel satchel on one shoulder, she unfolded the small piece of hotel stationery and re-read Ororo's note.

Regretfully stubbing the cigarette into the small receptacle hidden tastefully behind a large potted plant, Pete craned his neck over Kitty's shoulder. "So wot's it say, Pryde? They ready for us now, or do we have time for a little nap?" Ignoring the baleful stare of the elevator operator at Pete's obvious meaning, he waggled his eyebrows playfully at Kitty, who, long accustomed to his teasing, simply gave a long-suffering sigh and rolled her eyes at him. Placing a wiry arm around her shoulders, he grinned again at her as they stepped into the elevator together.

Leaning against the back corner of the slowly moving elevator, Pete turned to Kitty and asked in a good natured tone "So, Pryde, answer me- what does yer little love note there say?"

"Just says what rooms they're in, and for us to call Ororo just as soon as we check in." Kitty couldn't help but smile at the wording of the note. Despite the blocky penmanship of the desk clerk, the words themselves were sheer Ororo.

When the elevator had deposited them on their floor, Kitty stepped closer to Pete and clasped his thin hand in her own. "We'll have plenty of 'nap' time later, you sleazy git," she whispered in response to his earlier question, squeezing his hand tightly as they walked down the hall to search for their room. "Right now, I just want to drop off these bags and then find Logan and Ororo. It's been so long since we've seen each other, and I think it's time they finally met you..."

"Glad they put us on the same floor as the others, at least," Pete noted conversationally as he checked the room number on the note. "Makes things a little easier gettin' back and forth from our room to theirs, 'specially if things run late tonight."

Finding the proper room number, Pete inserted the key into the lock and opened the door for her. "I guess we can go straight over there, but it's yer loss, Pryde," he teased, and dropped his bag in one of the chairs before performing a cursory examination of the room. Finding nothing, he strode across the room to stretch his lanky frame across the huge bed. Propping himself up on one elbow, he watched Kitty as she studied her reflection in the large gilt-framed mirror. Nodding to herself, she removed a brush and small makeup bag from her satchel and began briskly touching up her hair and makeup.

"Y' don't need any of that stuff, Pryde," Pete muttered from where he lay sprawled on the bed. "Y' look fine without it."

Kitty blotted her lipstick, applied a light dusting of powder and turned to face him. "Thanks, Pete, I appreciate that," her smile was genuine as she removed some clothing from her satchel. Stripping out of her casual day clothes, she changed quickly into a deep blue velvet turtleneck and matching leggings, sticking her tongue out at his appreciative leer. "But I haven't seen Logan and Ororo in a while, and I want to look my best."

"Like y' could look anything but," Pete snorted, smiling proudly at her. "Yer always bleedin' gorgeous, Pryde, you know that." Shifting so that his legs dangled over the side of the bed, he yawned and ran his fingers through his own unruly hair. "I think I could probably use some work, though..." Standing up, he walked over to her side and picked up the round brush from where it lay discarded on the dresser and ran it through his thick coal-black hair.

Kitty raised her eyebrows in surprise but said nothing. "He must be more nervous about this meeting than I thought," she realized. "I don't think I've even heard him mention how he looks at all..." She smiled warmly at Pete and straightened his omnipresent black tie. "You ready, babe?"

"I don't have much choice, do I? Let's go meet th' in-laws."

"Anyway, Jean, that's where we are. The com-line's fine - Wisdom was just being overly cautious, a trait I think the rest of us could benefit from occasionally. Tell Scott not to freak out about it - nothing's really wrong. No need to worry."

Across the Atlantic, Jean smiled wryly "Yeah, right. Telling Scott not to worry is like telling the sun not to shine, Nathan..."

Cable laughed humorlessly at the expression on her holographic face. Speaking into the small Shi'ar holophone, he sighed. "Guess you're right about that.

Anyway, everything's fine here." Without going into the details, he'd explained to Jean that Pete had needed a little help investigating some sensitive intelligence information and had wanted someone with experience in the field to help him out. It hadn't taken a telepath to know that Jean was properly dubious of this glib explanation, but his promise of a more thorough explanation when they returned home seemed to satisfy her.

"Can you tell Terry that we'll be gone for a few more days, at least- I don't know how long- and for her to go ahead and get the team into the exercises Dom has programmed for next week?"

When Jean had assured him she would, and made him promise to telepathically yell if there was a problem, Cable pressed a button, ending the transmission. Shucking off his tight dress shirt, he placed the tiny Shi'ar device back into its pouch in his briefcase. Relishing the lack of constricting fabric across his skin, Cable stretched again, bare skin rippling against the chill of the room. 'Damn, that feels good,' he sighed.

It'd taken a while, but he was finally back in control of his emotions. Almost as soon as he'd excused himself from Domino about an hour before, he'd lapsed into meditation, using practised Askani techniques to transform his rage at his 'son's' monstrous deeds to a manageable anger. This, he could handle professionally without the dangerous swell of emotions that had threatened him earlier. This, at least, he could put to the side until the time came to deal with it properly. 'Keep telling yourself that, Nate...'

Knowing that thoughts of Tolliver were not particularly conducive to the calm mental state he'd need to help brief the team, Cable sighed and walked over to the door, looking longingly over his shoulder at the invitingly large bed. 'A few hours sleep would be wonderful right now,' he thought wistfully. 'Oh, well...maybe we can call Kitty and Pete, get the rest of the team over here, tell them the abridged version Dom and I decided on and get them out of here so we can get some rest. It's gonna be a long day tomorrow...' Pushing that thought aside for the moment, Cable opened the door and stepped into the darkened sitting room.

In the other suite, Betsy rested comfortably in the main room. Now that the initial pleasure of removing the abominable contact lenses had faded, she was becoming increasingly bored. Though she couldn't sense any of the particulars, residual telepathic pain still emanated from the direction of Domino and Nathan's suite. 'Probably because Nathan's such a high-level psi,' she concluded, massaging her temple. 'From what little I've gathered, whatever they were discussing was fairly intense, too...no wonder the air feels like this.'

And Ororo - after quickly claiming one of the bedrooms, Storm had retreated to it and hadn't come out yet. 'Not that I really expected her to,' Betsy thought dryly, remembering the literally thunderous expression on the Ororo's face when she stormed down the hall after trying unsuccessfully to gain entrance to Domino and Cable's suite. There was enough negative psychic energy coming from that room to give even a gamma-level telepath a headache, and she didn't have to wonder about its source at all.

'Bloody marvellous joke, Domino, really, but I don't know that it was worth it...' Betsy's perfectly drawn lips curved in a wicked smile as she remembered their shock at Domino's... unconventional manner of dealing with unwanted guests, and she corrected herself. 'Well, perhaps it was at that, but now we've all got to live with a pissed-off Ororo...and she was not in the most pleasant mood to begin with...' She winced as she caught a particularly dark wave of emotion from the closed bedroom. 'This may not be the best place to relax right now, at least not for a telepath. I wonder what Logan's doing right now...'

Since it seemed that Domino and Cable were quite firmly settled in the first suite Logan, recognizing the potential awkwardness of the remaining rooming situation, had taken his bags and gracefully extricated himself from the situation by excusing himself to the remaining suite. At the time, she'd been grateful he had done so, but now, after sitting alone and bored for over an hour, she was beginning to change her mind.

Vision automatically compensating for the much dimmer light, Cable walked into the sitting room quietly. "Dom?" he whispered softly, but got no response. The curtains were drawn and the lights turned down, and walking past one of the elegant couches, he saw the reason why. Domino, still dressed in a now very rumpled business suit sans blazer, was curled on one of the couches, deep asleep. A pale tan afghan, similar to the one he'd noticed in his bedroom, was clutched tightly around her for warmth.

Telepathically masking himself so as to not wake her, Cable crouched on his heels and simply stared at her for several long minutes, utterly amazed at how young she appeared. The hard worry lines he'd grown accustomed to seeing on her face were softened in sleep, and her pale skin was smooth and unlined. Her sculpted features seemed luminous in the dim light of the room and, except for the very few strands of silver in her tussled raven hair, she looked just like the young woman- the girl, really - she'd been when first they'd met.

'Beautiful,' he thought to himself. 'So many years gone by- Nathan, you are a damn fool.' Leaning forward, he brushed her cheek with his lips, lingering over her still form for a few moments longer. 'When this is all over, Dom...when this is all over, I promise you..'

Beneath him, her mauve lips parted, and a loud, off-key snore filled the air. Fighting a strong urge to laugh, Nathan stood up and slowly removed his telepathic shield. He coughed very lightly, under his breath, and Domino almost immediately jumped up from her slumber, flinging the afghan to the side and falling into an instinctive defensive posture. Seeing that it was only Nathan, she smiled sheepishly and retrieved the afghan, pulling it close to her, trying to recapture the warmth of the lost nap. "Sorry, Nate," she yawned. "Old habits, y'know?"

Folding his arms over his bare chest, Cable grinned. "Wake up, sleepyhead," he teased, flicking on the lights. Noticing the luggage for the first time, his brow creased in puzzlement. He sat down beside her on the soft couch, and gently picked up her feet and repositioned them on his lap. After sitting there a moment in comfortable silence, he motioned to the luggage and wondered aloud "How'd those get here?"

"Oh, the others brought them by before they went on to the other room," she chuckled, a enigmatic smile on her face.

Nodding in understanding at her words, if not her bemused expression, he leaned back into the soft cushions of the couch, the lingering heat from where she'd slept warming his bare skin. "Damn, I wish we could just go back to sleep and deal with all this in the morning."

Shifting in her seat so she faced him, Domino nodded. "You and me both, but there's nothing we can do but just get it over with. You about ready to call everyone else in here?"

Eyes fastened gratefully on the luggage, Cable nodded, pleased beyond reason that it was already here and that was one thing less they'd have to arrange. "You wanna change, first? Now that those bags are here, I'm dyin' to put on some comfortable clothes."

Rising to walk over to the bags, Domino ran her eyes over Nathan's bare chest and her own dishevelled appearance. Her lips twitched again in wry amusement as she agreed with him. "Yeah, you're probably right. Don't want anyone to find us like this- somebody might get the wrong idea."


Part 36

Domino hummed a few bars of an old Russian drinking song as she stepped out of the shower and grabbed the plush white bathrobe the hotel had thoughtfully laid out for its guests. Twisting her dripping wet hair into a towel-turban, she tightened the belt of the downy robe and breathed deeply, feeling clean at last. The latex strips of makeup counter by the sink. Stretching muscles loosened by the hot shower, she scooped them up and dumped them in the small trashcan under the sink.

Closing the door to the steamy bathroom behind her, the first thing she saw was the now wrinkled beige suit crumpled at the foot of the bed. Shivering at the comparative chill of the bedroom, she scooped up the rumpled clothing and tossed it into the closet. Then, with a grimace, she threw the woefully painful pumps in the trashcan. 'Damn if I'll wear you bastards again,' she rubbed her hands together triumphantly. The bawdy words of the ditty still running through her mind, she looked through the weathered leather suitcase and looked through it for something else to wear.

After they'd polished up the version of Pete and Domino's story they'd tell the others, Cable had retired to the other bedroom to change clothes before the inevitable briefing session began. She'd done the same. The damn brown suit, while it had served her purposes very well, was not exactly her style. She wanted to strip out of it as soon as possible, and she felt sure that the others were in their respective rooms doing the same. "Though I've always liked Logan in his Patch suit," she grinned, remembering the time in Madripoor when Patch had helped polish the raw fighting skills of a certain very young combat pit fighter who would go on to become the world's luckiest mercenary.

Quickly selecting several articles of all-black clothing, she stared down at the contents of the suitcase a moment longer. Sighing, she pulled two small but very different pistols, one half the size of the other, from the mass of clothing in the bulging suitcase and tossed them onto the bed alongside the clothing she'd chosen. 'I've felt naked without them,' she admitted. 'Good thing the PACRAT doesn't have to go through customs...'

Yawning, she snapped the suitcase shut and slipped it under the foot of the bed. Though she'd have preferred a full night's rest, one of the first things she'd learned as a mercenary was how to survive for long periods on only snippets of sleep. The short catnap in the sitting room had helped replenish her energy reserves, but an exhaustion as deep as the one she felt was not so easily completely shaken. Still, the nap and the wonderful shower had combined to a most beneficent effect- she felt much, much better than she had in some time. 'I might even be able to be civil to the weather-witch,' she smiled wickedly, remembering the other woman's face when she'd left the suite. 'I might even feel like doing something tonight, if anyone else feels up to it and I still feel like a disguise after we get through with the debriefing. It's been a long time since Pete and I went drinkin'...'

In sharp contrast to her earlier melancholy, and despite the lingering edge of tiredness, she was now in an extraordinarily good mood, and her analytical side couldn't help but wonder why. "Probably 'cause now the worst part's over - Nathan knows." She breathed out in relief. "I don't know why telling him was bothering me so badly, but now that that's over, I don't have to hide all this from him anymore. Now, we get to have some fun..." Brushing away any thoughts of why Nathan's opinion would matter so much to her, she continued getting ready. After quickly applying her normal, non-disguising makeup- 'Not, thank God, that beige peachy shit-' she loosened the towel from around her head and began briskly drying her thick wet hair. 'At least now, even if we do go out tonight and I have use a disguise, I can dress like I want to and not like some corporate cookie-cutter type...'

When she was finished, she tossed the towel haphazardly on one of the tables. Regretfully stepping out of the warm robe, she donned the clothing quickly, goosebumps rising on her pale flesh at the chill of the room. Slipping the larger of the two pistols into her waistband and the other into the heel of her stacked boot, she checked her appearance in the mirror critically. 'Much better.' The woman in the mirror wore tight black pants and a matching low cut silk shirt, her hair hanging loosely down her back, and her brilliant violet eyes flashing in good humor. 'Nothin' dull about it at all,' she smiled to herself again as she walked out the door, humming the tune again.

In the other suite, Betsy sighed and glanced at the clock again. 'It's almost 9:00 in Westchester....' She thought of Warren again, and once more wondered 'Should I call him? I told him I would, but I really don't feel like fighting right now, today's just been too pleasant...'

She stared impatiently at the closed door to the bedroom Ororo had chosen. Pursing her lips in irritation, she very nearly summoned her old friend telepathically but remembering the other woman's scowl, she decided to allow Ororo a few more moments of solitude. Casting her thoughts gently in the direction of Logan's suite, her eyes widened. The emotions coming from him were vividly erotic, and she immediately, instinctively strengthened her shields, unwilling to violate Logan's privacy, especially given their current situation. Tempted as she was, she would not do that to a friend. 'Tempted indeed,' she closed her eyes, feeling acutely her own aching loneliness, 'Therein lies the problem.' Sighing, she looked at the phone. 'Perhaps I'd better call Warren after all,' she thought. 'We need to resolve this one way or the other.'

Alone in the other suite, Logan dreamed. Clad only in his boxers, he lay sprawled out on one of the elegant sofas tossing restlessly in his sleep, perspiration beading on his forehead as he growled low in his throat. A familiar woman danced in his mind, a woman he'd known for so long, loved for so long. Wrapping her long limbs wildly around his waist, she murmured to him sensuously as she pulled him into her body and then her mind until they were one creature, moving rhythmically together. She moaned his name again and again as his strong hands up and down her smooth body, calling her name as her back arched in pleasure again and again. In his sleep, Logan cried out, muttering a single, longing word "Jean...."

Domino closed the door to the bedroom behind her and walked lightly across the room towards her partner. Cable, sitting on the same sofa she'd napped on earlier, was now dressed in jeans and the ecru cable-knit wool sweater Theresa had given him for his birthday earlier in the year. Smiling across the room at her, he chuckled silently at her appearance. 'Now that's the Dom I know and love...' Quickly brushing over that particular thought, he closed his eyes and sent a brief mental summons to the other members of their party.

As Domino walked towards him, he grinned. "Hey. I just told the others to meet us over here..."

She nodded "They coming right over?"

He shook his head. "Betsy said give them a minute- she's on the phone with home."

At her nod, he ran his eyes up and down her frame, pretending to notice her appearance for the first time. He clucked aloud in mock dismay. "Damn, Dom. Where's the suit? I thought you'd turned respectable on me for a while there..."

She wryly lifted one sardonic eyebrow as she sat down on the couch beside him. "I'm not the only one who's played respectable before, Counsellor Summers..."

He turned to face her, eyes crinkling at her retort. Reminded of that time when, working with the Six-Pack, they'd pursued for a time a life in academia, he grinned. "Touché', Doctor..." He paused for a minute, trying to remember something. "Oh, hell, Dom, just what name did you get the friggin' doctorate in, anyway? I can never keep track of what you called yourself when."

She chuckled, lips twitching at the irony of it. "Winters. Doctor Tamara Winters- I think you've heard the name before, if not the title. And before you make any smart-ass remarks about characteristics of the seasons again, Mr. Summers, just remember that I got the damn thing years before we learned that you were a branch of that funky twisted family tree. Back then you were just Nathan Dayspring."

His face fell slightly. "Back then with the Wild Pack I was a lot of things I shouldn't have been, Dom... Damn, when I look back on what my precious mission cost you and Kane -" His voice deepened with guilt "Cost Hammer..." Shaking her head sharply, Domino raised a hand and placed it gently on his arm. "No deal, Nate. I'm not going to let you - let either one of us - get caught up in that frame of mind right now. We've got too much to do tonight."

Her gentle smile softened the harshness of her words, and he caught her hand and squeezed it gently in appreciation.

Before he could answer, though, a knock sounded at the door. Casting his mind in that direction, Nathan turned to her and answered her unspoken question. "It's Pete and Kitty."

"Good! Time to get this party started!" She smiled, and releasing his hand, she stood up and walked over to the door. "Who is it?" She asked sweetly, and was answered by a coarse "Who th' bloody 'ell do you think it is, Dom? Let us in!"

When she opened the door, Pete walked right in, holding the 'Do Not Disturb' sign in his left hand, one eyebrow raised in a silent, mischievous question. Domino snatched it from his hand and threw it into the hall with a put-upon sigh. Smiling broadly at the former spy anyway, she hugged him gruffly now that they were in private and her disguise wouldn't be compromised by a display of affection. "Never change, do you, Wisdom?"

Deep blue eyes twinkling with merriment, Pete pointed to the discarded sign and whispered low enough that only she could hear. "Now why in the world was that there, y' bloody tart? Should we come back later?" A muttered obscenity was his only reply.

Kitty walked in right behind Pete, an eager expression on her face as she looked around the room. "Hey, Cable, Domino..." Trying to keep the disappointment from her voice, she wondered aloud "Where's everyone else?"

Standing to greet them, Cable answered her question with a smile. "They'll be here shortly, Kitty... Betsy had to make a phone call." Placing a tentative arm around Kitty, Cable was surprised at the strength of her return hug. 'Then again, I forget...Logan trained her, too.'

Marshalling his courage, he hesitantly asked her "Kitty, if you don't mind, before this is all over I'd like us to sit down and talk a little bit about my sister."

Kitty's return smile was genuine, and her chestnut eyes glistened with emotion. "I'd really like that, Cab - Nathan."

At Nathan's hug and quiet words, and to Domino's vast amusement, Pete quickly walked over to where Kitty stood. Unlike Domino's effusive (for her) greeting, Nathan merely extended his hand. "Good to see you again, Wisdom."

Pete met his handshake with a firm grip. "You, too, Nate. It's been too long." In contrast to Domino, who for some reason reminded him of Romany, Pete always felt a bit defensive with Nathan. 'Probably because of that damn authoritarian image he cultivates,' Pete considered, though he was careful to keep his thoughts shielded.

After Kitty and Domino chatted a few moments, Pete stepped closer to his American lover. Putting an arm around Kitty, he stood quietly for a moment, an unspoken question in his eyes.

Noticing his expression, Domino nodded, her voice hardening slightly. "Nathan knows, Pete, and I'm assuming you've told Kitty what you know. That's fine. I told Nate everything, but when the others get here, we'll tell them only what they need to know so far- You can fill in whatever gaps are necessary."

Pete shrugged his shoulder, catching the emphasis. "Sounds good t'me, Dom. Now tell me - y' got anything t' drink around here?"

When the four had seated themselves comfortably on the sofas and spent several minutes in pleasant conversation, catching up on Muir and Westchester gossip, a second knock sounded at the door. Kitty sprang up from her seat beside Pete, eagerness and anxiety warring on her features. "I'll get it..."


Part 37

Ororo knocked calmly on the door to Cable's suite, her face carefully arranged into an emotionless mask. 'If that is how Nathan wishes to be, then so be it,' she thought, her rage at Domino's earlier slatternly behavior balled up and discarded to the back in her mind along with the thousands of other insults suffered throughout her life.

'If only my powers were not so acutely tied to the weather conditions,' she thought longingly for a moment, her face creasing with fury quickly replaced with a facade of indifference. 'If only I could truly show that woman what it means to possess the powers of the elements.'

However much she might wish that to come true, she knew she could never truly release herself, lest the powers that were her birthright release themselves fully and the elements respond to her anger. Even now, she had to consciously soothe winds, dismiss the thunderclouds that were forming at her subconscious distress, return the sky to its former gray-blue clarity.

She sighed, and wished again it didn't have to be so. She'd learned a long time ago that the only way to prevent the 'natural' catastrophes that arose at her subconscious passions was to place herself into a state of forced serenity, and no matter that her innate sense of pride was still screaming at this latest insult, she would not fail in this control.

Standing slightly behind her in the hallway, Betsy and Logan shared a worried glance. Cable's mental summons had come shortly after Betsy had ended her telephone conversation with Warren (on a good note, for a change), She'd been only slightly surprised when Ororo had stepped out of her room, immaculately groomed and garbed, looking for all the world like nothing at all had happened. When she cordially greeted Betsy, the telepath had been unable to detect any trace of the thunderous anger she'd evidenced after Domino's trick. Only the fierceness of her shielding and an almost undetectable slight tightening around the eyes betrayed the woman's true feelings.

Betsy sighed inwardly. 'I was afraid of something like this. I don't know whether or not I'd rather she lash out or contain it like this- either way, it's not going to be pleasant for any of us.' Long years of friendship with Ororo had accustomed her to the other woman's habit, but it still disturbed her greatly. 'No matter how much she tries to hide it, she's still only human. One day all that internalized anger is going to erupt again and a mohawk and leather clothing will be the least of our worries. God help us all then...' She'd shared her concerns with Logan after they'd met him in the hallway.

'She has formidable shields for a non-psi, and she's using every shielding technique Charles ever taught her tonight,' Psylocke mentally informed her companion as they waited for someone to answer the door. It's taking that much effort for her to contain herself. I'm worried about her, Logan. Whatever this situation with Domino and Wisdom is, it's serious enough that...' She trailed off, and despite her concern, she smiled at the particular mindpattern she felt approaching behind the door to the suite. 'Perhaps this will help more than any words could,' she decided, not sharing the thought with Logan and spoil his surprise. Smiling slightly, she continued. 'Serious enough that we all need to be in top form. Without consciously delving into her mind, I can't tell anything about what she's going to do, and that frightens me. What are your senses telling you, Logan?'

Before he could answer her, the door opened slightly, and Betsy was empathetically inundated with a wash of joyous emotion as Logan and Ororo stepped forward, almost in unison, with identical expressions of proud surprise on their very different faces. Before either could speak, though, Kitty came rushing out to meet them, the door closing behind her. flinging her arms around one and then the other, she greeted them effusively, her warm brown eyes brimming with emotion. Betsy smiled. Even were she not a telepath, the expressions on all of their faces told her exactly what the three were feeling at the reunion.

Ororo closed her eyes and wrapped her arms tightly around Kitty's thin frame, the emotionless mask replaced with an expression of almost relief. "Ah, my Kitten," she murmured, holding the girl who'd been almost a daughter to her for so long even closer. "I have missed you so." Logan tapped the younger woman on the shoulder and, when Kitty stepped away from Ororo's embrace, wrapped her in a gruff bear hug. Kitty returned the hug forcefully, and in a clear, sweet voice whispered in his ear "I missed you, too, Logan..."

Releasing her a bit regretfully, he stood back, staring at the young girl- 'No, the young woman,' he corrected himself- with whom he'd shared so much, whom he'd taught so much. There was something different about her, now. This woman moved, smiled, held herself with an assuredness that had been lacking in the young girl she'd been. Kitty had always been brilliant and courageous, but woefully insecure about herself. This woman looked comfortable in her own skin and, as Logan watched her speak softly again to Ororo, he felt his face beam with bittersweet pleasure. She'd grown up.

He stood there for a moment, watching them. Though he'd made it a special goal to help as many young people out as he could through the years, and many of those had> grown up to become good friends- 'Like Neena in there,' h thought affectionately- very few had touched his life like the slender young woman standing before him. Through the years, he'd kept in almost constant (if completely secret) contact with his sons, but he'd never had any biological daughters. 'Hmmp!' he snorted a bit indignantly at the thought. 'A man couldn't ask for better daughters than Kitty and Jubilee.'

Betsy cleared her throat softly, a smile playing on her lips. Though Kitty's bond with her two companions was almost filial, in the wake of the Mutant Massacre Psylocke had spent long months keeping Kitty, stuck in her phased state, together body and soul, and had grown to care deeply for the young woman. She waited patiently for the others to finish greeting Kitty, however, since she visited her brother frequently on Muir and had seen Kitty only a month or so ago. It'd been almost a year since the others had been able to visit. Kitty walked over to Betsy and held her arms out easily.

"Hey, Betsy," she smiled as the other woman returned the fond embrace "Looks like you'll finally get to meet Pete. He's been gone on one mission or another every time she's visited," Kitty explained to the others, her eyes widening in surprise. 'Oh, hell, I almost forgot! *They* haven't met him yet, either...' "Speaking of which," she recovered smoothly, lips twitching at Betsy's wry mental chuckle "Come on inside and meet him yourself." 'And God help us all,' she half joked, half prayed as she phased through the door to open it again, unwittingly echoing Betsy's precise earlier sentiments.

Inside the room, Pete was doing everything he could to curb his anxiety. 'I hate this hate this hate this hate this,' he grumbled to himself. 'I bloody well hate meetin' in-laws like, bein' checked out, havin' them decide I ain't bloody well good enough for Kitty. I know that much meself, and if she wasn't so damn important to me I'd tell 'em all t' sod off, I don't give a damn what they think...'

Painful insecurities from his youth tugged at his memories, reminding him of all the times schoolmates' families wouldn't let their sons play with - or God forbid, daughters talk to - loony Harold Wisdom's strange children. Romany had found her outlet in esoteric studies, and he? Well, he'd just left as soon as he could. Damn 'em all. If he wasn't good enough for them, then screw 'em. He didn't need them, anyway. Over the next few years that insecurity had gradually hardened into cynicism as he learned how to survive on his own without even the meager support his parents had been able to provide. When his mutant powers manifested and one of their scouts spotted him, the fledgling agency Black Air set up a meeting with him and hired him on the spot.

Not wanting to even think of Black Air, Pete shook his head and muttered "What th' 'ell is taking 'em so long?" In his nervousness, the lower-class accent of his youth was coming through even more strongly than it usually did. 'Calm down, man, Kitty went through this with you. And no matter how bad they are, you know they can't be any worse than the old man was to her...' His lips twitched almost involuntarily at the memories of Kitty meeting his father, and he very nearly laughed aloud.

On the couch across from Pete, Domino and Cable exchanged a glance. Domino smiled sympathetically. "Let me guess. You haven't met them yet." It was not a question, but Pete nodded sourly anyway. "Is it that damn obvious?" he grimaced, schooling his expression into its usual bored indifference. "I mean, all they are 'er bloody old friends. Ain't like they're gonna kill me or nothin'..." Remembering Ororo's earlier pointed questions about Pete's past, Cable winced, hiding the expression in a false yawn. 'I'm not so sure about that...' "Well, whatever they're doing, they're taking long enough out there. Maybe I should see about them..."

Domino rolled her eyes. "Dammit, Nate, give 'em a minute or two. You don't have to take charge of every situation, and I think Pete can wait it out just a minute or two more..." When she caught a flash of movement through her peripheral vision, she raised an amused eyebrow at both of them. "See?" She motioned to Kitty, phasing through the door.

Pete narrowed his eyes at her, but his attention was quickly diverted by his American lover, who was smiling brilliantly at him. 'Well, they can't be that bad if they've made 'er this bloody happy...' Rising to greet her, he caught the unspoken question in her eyes. Seeing his nodded assent, she smiled and opened the door.


Part 38

Pete stood quietly beside Kitty, waiting for the hammer to fall. When the three walked into the room, he swallowed tightly, then walked over to greet them.

When he finally stood facing them, the room was silent for a moment as each side regarded the other. Logan stared intently at the other man, assessing him. His nostrils twitched slightly, and his eyes widened as he made a realization 'Boy's scared to death.' Stealing a glance at Ororo's steely expression, he nodded. 'And looks like he oughta be. Don't sound much like what I've read of him, though...'

Kitty took a deep breath. 'God, please let this go well,' she prayed, then took Pete's arm. In a pleasantly calm voice, she introduced her lover to her old teammates. "Ororo, Logan, Betsy, I want you all to meet Pete Wisdom. Pete, this is Ororo Munroe, Logan, and Betsy Braddock, Brian's sister."

'This is important t' Kitty,' Pete reminded himself, and gave them his best charming smile, extending his hand. "Hello. It's nice t'meet all of you.

Ororo's lips thinned, and she took the extended hand almost disdainfully. Shaking it limply, she murmured "Charmed."

Pete swallowed, and forced himself to keep the smile on his face. 'I friggin' knew it,' he breathed out. 'She's lookin' at me like I'm trash, and everybody knows it...'

At Kitty's bewildered gaze, Psylocke swore under her breath. Using every ounce of her formidable charisma, Betsy turned her attention to Pete and greeted him warmly, doing her best to take the chill off of Ororo's cool reception.

"It's a great pleasure to meet you at last, Pete. Meggan and Kurt both speak very highly of you." She paused only briefly, choosing not to tell them about some of the early stories Brian had told her about Kitty's new lover. Clasping his hand in a surprisingly strong grip, she shook it warmly. "I am very glad to make your acquaintance. Kitty seems to have excellent taste." She smiled broadly at him, hoping to draw his (and Kitty's) attention away from Ororo's snub.

As Kitty beamed at the compliment, and Pete chatted with Betsy, relieved at the sincerity of her greeting, Ororo stood stock-still. Coughing slightly, after a moment she excused herself and walked to the other side of the room, giving Domino and Cable a withering glance as she strode past the sofa where they were still seated, watching the introductions. Outside, the sky darkened visibly, and a faint rumble was heard in the distance. Inhaling sharply, she closed her eyes tightly, and when she reopened them the darkness was dissipating.

Shrugging her shoulders, Domino whispered under her breath "Looks like Pete could use some help. I'm gonna go make sure Logan-" She motioned to the Canadian X-Man, who still stood gazing at Pete "Takes it a little easier on him than the wind-rider there did."

Cable's brow furrowed as he caught flashes of seething anger seeping through the impressive mental shielding Ororo had raised. 'Something's wrong,' he decided, as Domino walked away. 'I know she doesn't like Pete - at all- but there's more to this than just that.' Walking over to where Storm stood gazing out of the window, he raised a hand and placed it gently on her arm. "Are you all right, Ororo?"

Outside the window, the sky darkened again, and Ororo's head snapped around to face him, her crystal blue eyes flashing in anger. "What do you care if I am 'all right' or not, Nathan? You seem to have made your bed. Lie in it, for all I care." Turning away from him to stare out of the window again, Ororo pointedly ignored his hurt expression.

Cable took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. 'I don't care how pissed she is about Wisdom, there's no need for all this. Maybe there's something more to it than just Pete...' Aloud, he answered her "I thought we were friends, Ororo - I don't understand where all this anger's coming from, but if I've done anything to upset you-"

She didn't even turn to face him. "Upset me? Hardly, Nathan. It takes a great deal more than anything you could do to upset me."

Her mental shields were locked so tight that not even a stray thought escaped, and Nathan growled in frustration. 'Dammit, Ororo, what the hell's wrong with you? I could peel back those shields, but I don't want to do that....' For a psi of his caliber, it would take only a thought. For a brief moment, he considered doing just that, then shook his head slightly, ashamed that he continued to revert back to his earlier tactics so easily. 'Ethics, Nathan. No matter how she's acting, she is your friend,' he reminded himself, ignoring the small nagging voice that said 'Just a friend? You weren't so sure about that a week ago, Nate. No wonder she's pissed. Seems to be a gift you have, making women angry...'

Sighing, he thought 'There's nothing I can do about it right now.' Aloud, he said "Well. If I've done anything, I apologize anyway." When she didn't respond, he muttered an Askani curse under his breath and walked away from her. She gazed out of the window, remembering the fierce thunderstorm at the mansion the afternoon she'd learned about Pete Wisdom's past. Not allowing herself to even think the things she so desperately wanted to say to all of them, she stared out of the window until she could get a better grasp on herself.

Across the room, Domino stepped up behind Pete and pinched him hard on his rear. When he whirled around, fingers glowing with the beginnings of hot-knives, she laughed at him, and smiled at Kitty, who stood quietly by his side, watching all of their reactions. "Just wanted to break the tension."

When he growled a quiet obscenity at her, she replied calmly "That's not anatomically possible. Grizz tried it years ago."

Logan laughed out loud this time, and she grinned at him. "That's better, old man. Now. Tell Pete here hello, before Kitty gets an ulcer wondering what you're going to say." She bit off a sharp comment about Storm, but saw Betsy nod anyway.

Logan stood still another brief moment, then extended his hand. 'Don't mean I don't have any reservations about you, but I trust Kitty's judgement.' "Aw, what the hell, kid. Its good t' finally meet Kitty's beau - Glad t' know ya. I've heard a lot about ya, but I was waiting to see for myself. Looks like Kitty did all right for herself."

Pete, recognizing the universal paternal warning- you hurt her you're a dead man- in Logan's eyes, shook his hand firmly. Rather than feeling inferior, as he'd expected, and how Storm had made him feel, he instead felt like he'd passed a test. Strangely, after meeting Logan, it didn't annoy him half as much as before. He knew now that if he ever had a daughter, he'd probably do exactly the same as Logan had just done to him. 'Only a lot less nicely if she ever brings home a slug like me, though...' He wondered briefly what Kitty's real parents were like. Though she spoke often of her childhood in Deerfield - Deerborn? he wondered- 'Hell, something like that,' he decided- she only spoke of her parents in references to childhood memories. She rarely mentioned them in the present tense, and he hadn't asked. Lord knew he had enough bad memories of his own parents to understand her hesitance.

Focusing his attention on the present, he replied to Logan's comments with a sincere "Naw, mate, I'm the lucky one." Kitty took his hand and squeezed it, smiling up at him, and he softened slightly.

Logan grinned at the obvious warmth between the two, and decided he liked the rumpled Englishman, though they'd be sure to have a talk later about the details of treating Kitty right. "And don't you forget it, bub."

Domino, winking at Kitty as the two men spoke quietly to each other, walked over to the sofa. Sitting back down, she noticed Nathan and Storm speaking in low, strained, tones, and snorted. 'Oh, well. Tell him or not, doesn't matter to me.' Ignoring her curiosity, she closed her eyes and leaned back into the thick cushions of the couch. 'Damn, I could deal with some sleep...'

She'd sat there only a few minutes when Nathan returned to sit by her, his face flushed with anger. "What's wrong with you?" She asked him, yawning again.

"Nothing. Hell, everything. I'm ready to get this damn thing started, and we've got introductions going on, and feelings hurt already, and people pissed off..." Turning to face her, he muttered "Dammit, Dom, sometimes I wish I could go back to the man I was and not worry about my 'soldiers', just getting the job done."

She shook her head. "I don't. I've known you a long time, Nate, seen you go through a lot of things. That cold, hard man- that wasn't you. That was your way of dealing with some things no human being ought to have to deal with, but that wasn't you." Smiling wryly, she motioned her head in the direction of the window. "Now that doesn't mean that we can't ignore certain 'soldiers'..."

He smiled tiredly, and she grinned at him. After giving Pete a few more moments with Logan and Betsy, Domino stood up. Raising her voice, she addressed the room. "Well, then. If we've all met each other now, we need to sit down and get to work. Pete and I have a lot to talk to you about tonight."


Part 39

It took a few minutes for the small talk to die down and the others to take their seats. 'I'm so ready to get this over with,' Domino muttered, allowing herself only a brief moment of discomfort at the idea of all these people learning so much about her past- it had been difficult enough to tell even Nathan. 'But I told him everything,' Domino reminded herself. 'This bunch is gonna be working on a need to know basis, whether they like it or not. At least Pete and Nate agreed that since I'm the only one who's ever really spent any time there, I should be the one to lead this thing. That'll give me a little more lee-way in keeping sensitive material private...'

Walking back from the window where she had stationed herself while Logan and Betsy greeted Pete, Ororo pointedly stepped around her. 'Speaking of sensitive matters,' Domino thought, 'We need to get this out of the way right now.'

She walked over to where the other woman sat alone on one of the sofas. "Ororo, may I have a word with you?" She spoke quietly, careful to pitch her words low enough that no one else would hear. Despite her care, across the room Logan's head jerked up, and his grizzled features creased in concern. She ignored him.

Ororo's slanted eyebrows rose almost to her hairline. "What more is there to say, Domino?" Her usually lilting voice was flat, dispassionate, and she stared coldly at the other woman. "This is business, and whatever else any of us are," she crossed her arms over her chest "We are all professionals here." Ororo fumed 'And no matter how I feel about you, woman, I will not allow anything to impair how I do my job.'

Domino studied her carefully, wondering for the first time how she would have reacted to all this had she been in Ororo's position. For the first time she almost- almost- regretted her earlier trick. "You're right," she replied softly. "Whatever else happens-" she paused for a moment, suppressing a most unbecoming feeling of jealousy towards both the other woman's cool self-possession, and, if she were to be completely honest with herself, her new relationship with Nathan "Whatever else may have happened, you're absolutely right about that. I trust we can all behave as such?"

Ororo nodded, and Domino walked back over to the tapestried chair. 'I don't have to like the bitch to work with her,' she reminded herself, conscious that by now all eyes were on her. Leaning forward in the chair, she surveyed the inhabitants of the room carefully. Logan had joined Ororo on the couch right after she'd finished talking with Domino, and Pete had taken a seat on the other side of him. Kitty perched her slender frame on the arm of the couch beside Wisdom, and from the intense looks on both of their faces, she could tell that Nathan and Betsy were deep in telepathic speech as they took their seats on the other couch.

When they'd finally settled down, Domino coolly surveyed the group. Consciously shifting into professional mode, she blocked out all personal thoughts from her mind, focusing solely on the mission. As a female mercenary, she'd had to work very hard at first to be taken seriously, and had over the years developed several habits that helped cultivate her now fiercely respected reputation.

Using one trick she'd found to be very useful when working with a new team, she paused for a few moments, taking a long, appraising look at each person. Allowing her gaze to rest on each face a moment before moving on to the next person, she used the time to consider what she knew from her own research about the capabilities of each. Their reactions to her intense scrutiny told her a great deal about themselves, information she needed to know. Other than that incidental benefit, the assessment served its purpose very well. It clearly emphasized to those watching her that she'd best be taken seriously.

'Besides,' she narrowed her eyes, skilfully analyzing the minutiae of body language along with the more easily interpreted facial expressions 'No matter how professional we are, I need to see if anyone's got a problem with me being in charge here.'

Nathan, long familiar with this little ritual of hers, met her gaze easily. She didn't linger long over him - she knew him almost as well as she would ever know another human being, and something about the uncharacteristically soft look in his eyes tonight made her distinctly uncomfortable.

Logan and Psylocke, sitting on opposite sofas, seemed to mirror each other's pose. Each leaned back comfortably in their respective seats, and both returned her stare easily. In Logan's familiar face she saw affection mingled with more than a little concern, and she had to force herself not to break her silence to reassure him that she was fine. There was no need to worry about him- as he had so often assured her, he was the best there is at what he does. She'd fought with him- hell, he'd taught her how to fight- enough in the past to know those words weren't mere braggadocio.

Perfectly formed lips curving in a faint semblance of a smile, Betsy nodded her understanding at this little test. 'I trust your judgement,' Domino heard the quiet mental voice sound in her thoughts. Nodding her thanks, Domino went over what she knew about the British telepath. Though they'd never fought together in anything more serious than a few Danger Room skirmishes, she knew the woman to be a survivor. Though she wouldn't dare deem her a friend- precious few people in the world held claim to that title anymore- she respected her.

When she looked at him, Pete scowled, not bothering to disguise his obvious disdain at her tactics. 'Runt's never had a problem expressing his feelings,' she sighed inaudibly. 'Dammit, Wisdom, I know you're the one that told me about this, but you know as well as I do that I've got to establish my position here, and that means doing this for everybody.' Recognizing the annoyed look that flitted across her features, Pete exhaled and sat up straighter, meeting her stare squarely, as much of an apology as she knew she'd ever get from him.

Kitty's chin jutted upwards slightly, and she met the older woman's stare with a slightly defiant look. Domino almost chuckled. Having reviewed hundreds of hours of old X-Men and Excalibur logs and footage, she knew that it would be a serious mistake to dismiss this girl as a novice, no matter how young she looked. 'Logan trained her, too,' Domino remembered, 'and as I recall, she's got a genius-level IQ and a facility with computers we might need once we get inside the clone's fortress. After all, I can't be everywhere at once,' she thought wryly, struck once more by how very much Kitty was like herself at that age- both deadly fighters, trained by the same man, in fact, both involved in the 'business', as she delicately referred to it, and both very much emotionally involved with an older man. About the only difference she could tell was that Kitty and Pete had had the courage to act on their emotions and not dance around them for two decades.

Schooling her features into perfect calm, she levelled a hard gaze at Ororo. The other woman stared back at her with a truly impressive hauteur that despite herself Domino had to admire. 'We're gonna have to work together, here, Windrider,' she'd used the name as a subtle mockery so often that it had stuck even when she was serious. 'I know what you said, and I know I have no problem with it, but I wonder- can you really work with me?'

Studying her a bit longer, Domino thought she saw a quick flash of dislike flicker through the other woman's cold facade. Nodding slightly to herself at this confirmation, she knew that whatever else happened, she would keep whatever they found at Tolliver's- 'the clone's,' she reminded herself, it was far easier to think of him that way- fortress far away from Storm's eyes. Though her instincts were telling her she could trust the woman in a fight, they were also screaming at her not to trust her one inch further once they were off the battlefield.

Finally looking away, she glanced back at the group as a whole. The whole process had taken maybe a minute and a half, and had confirmed most of her suspicions. Taking a deep breath, and weighing the potential for embarrassment against what she knew she must do, she sighed. In a cool, professional tone, she addressed the group. "Thank you all for your patience. I know you're wondering why we're here. First of all, there's some basic ground rules we've got to get straight. First, and most importantly, let me tell you all that this is not, I repeat, not an X-Men mission. We're not abiding by Xavier's rules. This is more than likely gonna get very ugly, and if anybody has a problem with that, they can leave right now."

The room was quiet. Nobody moved. Domino nodded coolly. "Good, then. Second point- I'm gonna be in charge once we get there, for reasons I'm about to explain. Anybody have a problem with that, they can leave now."

The room remained quiet, but Storm's head jerked up as if she were stung. She parted her lips to speak, and her voice was clear and curious. "Might I ask why you are leading this mission, instead of a more..." a pregnant pause "Experienced leader such as Nathan or myself?"

Domino nodded, and quickly masked the irritation that flared up at the question. "Fair question," she admitted. "Once I outline the mission, I think you might understand why."

Taking a deep breath, she began. "You're wondering why we're here, why Pete called me, of all people, all the way across the Atlantic when Excalibur's stationed right here. There's a good reason for that." Drawing on every ounce of internal strength she possessed, she continued, hating every moment of it.

"When Nathan formed X-Force, he called who he thought was Domino to help him get the team in order. That woman was not me. She had wore my face, worn my body," She stared straight ahead, careful not to look at Cable, who was careful not to look at her "But she wasn't me."

"That was the shapeshifter Copycat, who'd been hired by the arms dealer Tolliver, " She clinically noted the dawning comprehension in their faces "To infiltrate Nathan's life and turn him over to Tolliver, who in the process had kidnapped me and held me captive for almost a year while Vanessa lived my life." A deep breath - "It wasn't until Vanessa finally betrayed X-Force and Nathan came looking for Tolliver that he found me, and I was able to escape. I know this isn't common knowledge, since at that time X-Force was an outlaw group and didn't keep proper log entries or mission reports." 'Not that I wouldn't have erased them if they had,' she thought to herself wryly.

On the other sofa, Logan closed his eyes against the frustration and guilt that the mention of Tolliver - 'Hell, be honest with yourself, man, Tyler- Nathan's son-' brought. 'I know there was nothin' I could do- if I hadn't killed him, I'd be a freakin' mindless drone right now- but still, knowin' that I killed the man he considered his son,' He shuddered. 'No damn wonder Cable's been so cold to me lately. No matter what the reasons were, a man can't forgive somethin' like that.'

Glancing worriedly at Logan, Domino continued. "Of all that sordid shit, what matters is that Tolliver kept me imprisoned for a year. During that year, we travelled to almost all of his strongholds, and my mutagenic signature was programmed into his defense system, which uses some components from Nathan's future." 'And that's as close as I'm going to come to mentioning that,' she decided. 'They know Tolliver was Tyler, but damn if I'm gonna say it. This is painful enough for him as it is. '

She stood up, stretched, and settled back in the chair, grateful that no one had asked any questions. "All that's well and good. Ancient history- or at least that's what I thought until I talked to Pete last week and he told me to get my ass over here just as soon as I could."

She arched a raven eyebrow "And I think you all know where you come in at that point," she said drolly. "What you don't know is why Pete called me at all. As I understand- and correct me if I'm wrong, Pete-" He nodded at her, remembering their decision not to reveal too much to the others "That some of Pete's sources in British Intel have spotted some of the top geneticists formerly employed by Black Air near one of Tolliver's old fortresses off the coast of Northern Spain. Those spottings, along with some seriously funky satellite readings and the testimony of one of Tolliver's old flunkies, led British intel to conclude that Tolliver's back to his old tricks."

No one spoke for a moment, then Betsy's soft alto voice pierced the silence. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but...' she paused delicately. "I was under the impression Tyl- Tolliver," she corrected herself, mentally catching Domino's decision to use that less painful name "Tolliver was dead."

Domino sighed. Looking up bleakly, she said in a dry voice "He got better."


Part 40

"He got better."

Ignoring their stunned expressions, Domino elaborated. As the words rolled off her lips, she marvelled at the complete lack of emotion in her voice. Even with all her feigned nonchalance, she was careful to not look too deeply into anyone's eyes. She knew if anyone looked too closely into hers at just that moment, they'd see the rage flickering, and her charade would be over.

"The man who's behind all this is a clone of Tolliver with a full memory implant. We can assume he knows everything the original knew."

At those words, Logan swallowed, the misery in his eyes mirroring the pain in Domino's. 'Damn. This is gonna- Nate's gotta go through all that- and with me here, a constant reminder of everything that happened-' Memories of himself, enraged with the aborted adamantium transfusion from Genesis' warped plan, killing Cable's insane 'son', sprang unbidden to him mind.

Noticing his expression, Domino had to look away. 'I know it's hard, old man, believe me, I do...I didn't think of what this would do to you. When Pete told me all this, I should've sent you home.' At that thought, she chuckled grimly. 'Yeah, try to keep him away when he wants to go somewhere,' she reminded herself. Pausing again, she felt her psilink with Cable flicker briefly. Glancing at him, she wasn't surprised at all to see him carefully staring at the wall, eyes focused straight ahead, refusing to meet any of the quietly sympathetic stares that kept glancing surreptitiously in his direction.

Taking a shaky breath, she continued. "Tolliver has gathered the top Black Air geneticists left over after Excalibur's little shakedown a while back and given them some extremely advanced equipment, technology that in the normal course of things won't appear for a couple of millennia, at least, and put them to work." She paused, waiting for the inevitable slew of comments.

Kitty spoke up first. "Two questions- what kind of work, and where's this stronghold at?" Her voice, clear and strong, held traces of both her mid-western childhood and the clipped accent of Great Britain, where she'd made her home the last several years.

Domino tilted her head in surprise. 'Looks like Pete didn't tell her everything after all,' she thought gratefully, buoyed by the knowledge that her secrets belonged to one less person, no matter how trustworthy she might appear to be. Aloud, she lied "We don't really know what kind of work. That's what we're going there to find out and to stop, if necessary." Domino met Kitty's gaze easily, not disturbed in the least at having to lie to the earnest young woman. 'And if I'm lucky, none of you will ever find out what kind of little shop of horrors he's got going on down there....'

Answering the second question, Domino continued. "The compound is built around an abandoned castle on the coast of northern Spain. Tolliver gutted it several years ago and turned into his central headquarters- we spent a *lot* of time there." She shuddered, but it was so quickly repressed that none but Nathan saw it. He looked up at her, his eyes haunted, and she had to look away.

"The fortress," She took a deep breath, regaining her composure "Is disguised by a massive jammer that conceals it from electronic detection. Tolliver also uses an industrial-size image inducer to visually disguise the area when anyone comes and goes, so the locals don't see all the traffic coming from the 'abandoned' castle and get suspicious."

"It was sheerest chance," She grinned "That the satellite caught any of the strange readings and saw the scientists when they did. It must have been a glitch- and trust me, those don't happen very often with that program. I wouldn't count on that happening again." She leaned forward in the chair, slim fingers steepled thoughtfully, remembering the long hours she'd spent going over the layout of the various fortresses in her mind, planning an escape. "I had a lot of time to kill when I was there, so getting around the external security shouldn't be too hard. The kicker's gonna be," She took a deep breath "Getting into the security system again. Just knowing where the booby-traps are won't be enough. With the futuristic technology he had- has," She corrected herself "At his disposal, Tolliver has, in all honesty, probably the best set up I've ever seen. The only way Nate and the kids were able to get into one of Tolliver's fortresses the last time was because Vannessa knew the codes and was programmed into the system, so she could get them in."

"Good thing is," She shrugged "Since Vannessa mimicked me so perfectly- down to the molecular level, so completely that even psi-scans don't show the difference-" Cable flushed "That means that her mutagenic code was programmed into the filter system, just like mine was, but with a much higher security level. She basically, with very few exceptions, had complete access to the entire base."

Logan whistled, and she nodded. "Yeah. If I can just get into it, if my signature's still in the system, we've got a good chance." Noticing several confused looks, she explained "The system scans the DNA of the 'visitor' and them admits them- or not-" She muttered darkly "Based on whether or not that signature has been programmed into the system. That's why Pete needed me for this little venture." She leaned back. "Also, since Vannessa had my form at that time, it gives us twice the likelihood that one or the other of the signatures weren't deleted from the system. Given the state of mind Tolliver was in at that time, I really don't think computer maintenance was forefront on his list of priorities..."

She inhaled sharply, levelling a laser-sharp violet glare on the group. "I've seen what happens to the poor bastards who don't make it through that system." She stared hard at them "I don't want to have to worry about any one of you not being willing to be a part of the team and take direction when we get there, because one mistake can be deadly. This is serious, folks. I'll do this thing myself if I have to, and I'd rather do that than worry about my team not functioning perfectly." 'That's really not a bad idea,' she thought, half-seriously. 'That way at least I wouldn't have to worry about anyone else finding out about the tests and whatever else I find there...' Cable's chin jerked up suddenly, and his left eye glowed golden. 'Dom, you wouldn't,' his baritone voice reverberated through her skull, emotion making it even deeper than usual.

'Don't be stupid, Nathan,' she chided him, her mental voice edged with annoyance 'And get out of my mind.'

She felt him sheepishly pull back 'Sorry. I didn't mean to, I just- Hell, Dom, this isn't easy for me, either. I should've- Maybe I just needed-' She was surprised by the depth of feeling in the voice, stirred no doubt by her painful, though necessary, reminders of Tolliver and Vannessa. 'I guess I need some help to get through this, and I instinctively turned to you. I apologize for not asking permission to 'link first.'

She felt her breath catch in her throat and replied softly, careful to keep her facial expression stern for the benefit of the others. 'I know, Nate. It's alright. We'll get through this the same way we've gotten through everything else the world's thrown at us- together. Just let me get through this damn debriefing, OK? They've got to understand how serious this is...'

Ororo coughed, unknowingly interrupting the very private conversation. "Forgive me for stating the obvious, Domino," she queried, her voice silky "If this security system is as advanced as you say it is, then what are we going to do if your..." She paused delicately "Plan doesn't work?"

Pete sat up from where he'd sat quietly, listening to Domino's spiel. Noticing the look of irritation that marred his old friend's smooth features at the subtle criticism, he broke in smoothly "I think I can answer that one. Y'see, Storm, Dom's th' only one who's ever escaped from Tolliver." Logan, beside him on the couch, stiffened. 'Huh,' Pete thought, filing the reaction away. 'Interestin'.' Pretending not to notice, he went on "Now, there's no way of knowin' for certain, but we're countin' on Dom's luck to get her through that system, and her skill and familiarity with the compound to get around it if she can't. Then she'll let us in."

Ororo's slanted eyebrows rose almost to her hairline. "Luck?" She turned to face Pete, an incredulous expression on her face "You would base this mission on such a nebulous concept as luck?"

Pete leaned forward to answer her, but Domino stopped him sharply. 'Enough of this.' Shaking her head, she answered in a mild tone "I know you led," she smiled calmly, placing the emphasis on the past tense of the word "the X-Men for quite some time, Ororo. Surely you remember a gentleman by the name of Longshot?"

Storm's eyes narrowed at the retort. Leaning forward, Domino murmured "He's not the only one to have things fall into place for him. Remember that, windrider...." Returning her attention back to the others, who were watching the interchange with rapt interest, she shook her head "That is a good point, though. I trust my abilities," she shot a glance at Storm "But there's still not a 100% certainty that I'll be able to sneak through the system. If I can't, we're gonna have to bust our way in. With a couple of exceptions, this group is more suited to quick-and-dirty fighting and sneaking around than sheer explosive power." She grinned ferally "That's why we're takin' the big guns."

Pete rolled his eyes "You ain't gotten over that fixation yet?"

Domino chuckled, ignoring him. "We'll use those if we have to. Seriously, though, this team is almost ideally suited to breaking into the base, and powerful enough to deal with what we find there. Even if I can't steer us around the worst of the external security, Shadowcat and Psylocke can respectively phase and shadowslip, or whatever the hell you do, Betsy, us in."

"We'll discuss specific battle plans and subteams tomorrow. Right now, it's enough that you know what we're up against. We're not leaving until 6pm tomorrow night- cloaked or not, it'll be better for us getting there under the cover of darkness." Suddenly exhausted, she slumped back into the chair. "Any questions?"

All during the briefing, Betsy had remained silent, trying to chase down the tantalizing hints of precognition teasing the periphery of her consciousness. Not really knowing why she was saying it, she spoke up in a dreamy voice very different from her usual clear alto "Are you sure that's all there is, Domino? There's no more to this than what you've said?"

Domino rose quickly from the chair and in one fluid motion addressed the group, daring them to question her. "That's all you need to know. Take it or leave it- if you don't like those terms, you can leave now." 'That's damn sure all I'm telling you,' she fumed, 'The rest of it's none of your damn business if I can help it. I don't know how I'm going to do it yet, but since I'm the only one who knows where the labs are, I'm gonna be damn sure to get there and blow them up before anyone else comes anywhere near them.' She was careful to keep that thought completely shielded from Cable, who had been curiously silent throughout her speech.

When no one spoke, Domino nodded curtly "Dismissed, then."

When the group had dispersed, Logan walked over to Cable. Inclining his head at the other man, Logan said in a low, almost sorrowful voice "What Wisdom said back there wasn't altogether accurate, Nate."

Cable, troubled by the strange thoughts he was picking up from Betsy, turned to Logan and in a distracted voice asked "What do you mean, Logan?"

"Domino's not the only one to escape from Tyler." He used the name intentionally.

Cable stiffened, concern about Betsy forgotten. 'I should have known this would happen,' he thought 'From the minute Dom told me about Tyler I knew this would come up, but I guess I just didn't want to think about it....' In a overly controlled tone, he replied "I'm telling you now, Logan, I don't want to talk about it. I know you had reasons for what you did, but..." The emotional toll of the day suddenly caught up with him, and he placed a hand on a nearby table to steady himself. "I don't want to talk about it," he repeated weakly.

Logan nodded, standing up straight, short legs spread wide apart and arms crossed over his broad chest. Knowing better than to show the concern he felt, he responded "I know. And I'm sorry, I just had t' bring it up. Unlike th' rest o' the people around here, I ain't got no patience with leavin' things hangin' in the air like this." Face contorting in a grimace, he sighed, realizing the futility of the discussion. "I ain't got no business bein' here at all. If you want me to leave, Cable, I will."

For a split second, Nathan considered it until his better judgement took over. 'Never waste a resource,' he told himself. "That won't be necessary," his voice grew slightly less brittle. "You're too good a man in a fight to throw away, Logan. We're going to need you tomorrow- I can live with it if you can."

Logan swallowed, and when he finally spoke, his voice was heavy and grave. "I been livin' with it, bub." 'Lived with this and worse as long as I can remember, Nate.'

Cable nodded tiredly, to both the spoken words and the sentiment behind them. "I know what you mean."

Across the room, Betsy suddenly snapped to, surprised to find herself alone, staring absently out of the window onto the courtyard below. She glanced around the room, curious as to how she got there. 'The last thing I remember is Domino's briefing....' Psylocke sighed. 'A pre-cog vision, I suppose. I wish I could remember the bloody thing....' With a sigh, she turned to walk back across the room and join the others, who stood in pairs talking quietly among themselves.

She gave Cable and Logan a wide berth. Though Cable had psi-shielded the both of them, and they were speaking low enough she could not physically hear them, it didn't take a telepath to realize what they were discussing. 'Good,' she nodded in satisfaction as she passed. 'This little talk was too long in coming.'

She did the same for Kitty and Ororo. The two women were sitting together on one of the couches, Ororo beaming with pride as Kitty described one of Excalibur's latest missions. 'If I'm correct about my suspicions, they'll need as much time as possible to readjust to each other as they are now. Kitty is no longer a child for Ororo to mother and Kitty cannot now, as an adult, continue to view Ororo in the idealized light of her youth. They can perhaps become friends as equals,' Betsy thought, smiling at the two as she passed.

That left Wisdom and Domino who were, despite Domino's own earlier admonition, huddled in a back corner of the room discussing the mission in general and the briefing in particular. When Betsy approached, however, both grew immediately silent. She didn't take offense - she, too, had her own secrets to keep.

"Braddock, you all right?" Pete greeted her. "You seemed a little out of it back there..."

Whatever assurance she had been about to utter was squelched when Domino turned to look directly at her. Two pairs of violet eyes met each other as Betsy stared into Domino's face for the first time since emerging from her trance.

Psylocke felt all the blood drain from her face. As her gaze locked onto the other woman, flashes of the vision came back to her lightening-fast, far quicker than she could possible hope to contain them. She gasped, the images growing clearer and stronger and infinitely more horrifying.

Domino instinctively leaned forward and grabbed the other woman's arm, steadying her. "Betsy? Are you alright? Nate!" She yelled across the room, both aloud and through their psilink "Get over here, now!"

Cable was almost immediately by her side, Logan right behind him. She saw Ororo and Kitty, too, out of the corner of her vision, but she had no time for any of them now. Betsy had grasped both of her forearms, hard, and was facing her directly, standing eye-to-eye, her lips moving but no sound issuing forth.

Betsy struggled to keep her consciousness through the haze of images flooding her thoughts. One in particular kept recurring, blurry and out of focus, but incredibly powerful. 'If I concentrate,' she thought, exhausted by the effort of maintaining cogent thought. She closed her eyes, and the fog lifted slightly, just enough to show a blond man, grinning maniacally, holding a child.

She cursed as the image faded only to be replaced by a woman's face, contorted in pain. Opening her eyes, she blinked as that image and her physical vision overlapped, a strange echo effect, the same woman in each field. Betsy bit back the bile, seeing in the background of the vision tubes and wires and bubbling cylinders filled with strange, twisted things and sensing, rather than seeing, the overwhelmingly fetid stench of death. 'It's only a possible future,' she cried, desperately willing herself to believe it.

Beside her, Cable closed his eyes, trying to establish a mental link with her, but the visceral terror she was feeling was so strong, her mental shielding thrown up so tightly against it, that he couldn't connect with her, no matter how hard he tried. 'Dammit, I'd burn her mind out if I forced a link now-'

Pete stood by, feeling helpless at all the confusion. Kitty, baffled, was silent as well. Ororo and Logan, almost in unison, stepped to stand on either side of Betsy. "It's one o' her visions, ain't it, 'Ro?" Logan asked in a low voice, watching Psylocke, still rigidly clutching Domino's arms and staring at her as if possessed. "She usedta have 'em all th' time, remember?"

Ororo nodded quietly, all her attention trained on Betsy. "She did. All we could do then, and all we can do now, is wait, and be here when it's over-"

Before Logan could form a response, Betsy tensed, and then her entire body slackened. Still holding onto her arms for support, Betsy met Domino's gaze with haunted eyes.

"Domino, I'm so sorry...." she managed to whisper, then promptly passed out.

Part 41

Betts!" Logan's knees hit the ground as he stretched to catch Psylocke's limp body before it hit the ground. "C'mon, darlin', it's all right. Wake up," he implored, praying to hear a response from the woman he held in his arms. Betsy's head lolling on his chest, he rose easily to place her, ever so gently, on one of the sofas. When the others swarmed around them a bit too closely he suppressed a protective snarl.

Kitty, recognizing his expression, pushed her way through the mass of people clustered near the couch, commanding in a clear, high voice "Step back! Give her some room, people!"

"Wot th' bloody 'ell was that?" Pete questioned plaintively as she led him away. "Is she all right? Do we need t' get 'er to a doctor, or somethin'?"

Ororo, still hovering near the sofa, shot him a sideways glance. "Hardly," she replied in a cutting tone "As well as her telepathy, she also has precognitive flashes, Mr. Wisdom. Sometimes they are more fierce than others- this is not an unusual reaction to such a vision. Elisabeth will be fine."

Pete's eyes widened in sudden comprehension. Massaging his chin thoughtfully, he nodded "Precog, eh? That'd explain it, then." 'An' that opens up a *whole* new can o' worms, too...' Suddenly all business, he directed several questions in rapid-fire order at Storm. "How precise are her visions? About how accurate is she? How often does she have 'em?" On the other side of the room, Domino tilted her head in mute interest.

"It has been some time since her last vision." Ororo answered snappishly, concerned for her old friend despite her earlier show of nonchalance. "As a matter of fact, I do not think she has had such a vision since she has been in this body..."

Domino interjected coolly "Wrong there, Storm. The last one was about two days ago - that's why she felt like she had to come on this crazy mission anyway. And you didn't answer all his questions - just how good are these visions?" 'And why the hell didn't I ask this before?' she chastised herself. 'You're gettin' soft, Dom. You should have thought of this already, pressed Betsy for more details about just why she had to come on this thing, not just accepted her word for it like a damn rookie.'

Storm's pale eyes narrowed to aquamarine slits, and in a slightly forced tone, she answered "Elisabeth's visions are fairly accurate for the most part, Domino, though she generally only sees temporal possibilities. They have been critical to the team's survival in the past." Remembering the Siege Perilous and its horrible aftermath, Ororo's expression darkened. "We can work to either ensure or avert what she sees, though the paths we must take to do so are not always ones we may have chosen otherwise-"

Cable snorted in quiet derision. Turning to Kitty, who stood nearest to him, he whispered sotto voce "Just what I flonquin' need- a lecture on playing with the timestream." He was rewarded by a wide grin that he couldn't help return. 'Nice kid,' he thought, distracted 'I can see why she and Rachel were so close. Wonder how in the hell she got stuck with Wisdom?'

When Ororo had finished, Domino turned to her long time partner. 'Nate- are you getting anything from Psylocke? Did she get a look at something they don't need to know about?'

Cable shook his head tightly. 'I don't know, Dom. Very strong emotion blocks out conscious thought, and can be as good a shield as any mental technique I know of. Psylocke's a skilled telepath - with both her shields and the sheer impact what she was seeing, I didn't catch as much as a stray thought. Whatever it was, though...it scared her.'

Domino gave him the mental equivalent of a sharp kick in the ass. 'Very enlightening, Nate.' She paused, and sarcastically continued "Whatever it was scared her. The bruises on my arms from her clutching me during that little seizure didn't tell me that at all. Thanks so very much for clearing that up.' Sighing, she abruptly ended the link, keeping her own fears about what Betsy may have seen to herself. 'Just what was she so sorry about?' She wondered, afraid she already knew the answer.

Logan crouched down by Betsy's side, completely ignoring the chatter going on around him. Checking and rechecking her vitals, he noted 'Breathin's shallow, but stable. Pulse is steady, but fast as hell.' Rubbing her hands briskly, he was alarmed at the coolness of her skin. Staring softly at her slack features, he thought for the thousandth time 'Worthington's a damn fool. C'mon, darlin', wake up...'

Almost on cue, Betsy's eyes fluttered open. "Hey there," Logan's gruff features sagged in relief, his dark eyes glowing. "Y' gave us a little bit of a scare there f'r a minute."

Giving him a shaky smile, she propped one elbow on the soft cushions of the couch and swung her body around so she was sitting more or less upright. Blinking against the sudden head rush, she closed her eyes tightly and tried to focus on the dream-images she'd seen, but only a few stood out in any detail. Committing them to memory, she looked up to see six pairs of eyes trained on her and was amused to see all but Logan standing some distance apart.

Betsy's voice, raw with exhaustion, broke the leaden silence. "Enough of this - it doesn't take a telepath to figure out what you're circling around me like bloody vultures for." She paused for a moment, then raised an elegant hand to her throbbing temple. "Domino- may I have a word alone with you first?" The others exchanged worried glances, but no one moved.

Cable's shoulders tensed, but his objection was cut short by Betsy's weary 'Nathan, please. I promise you, you'll all find about this soon, but she deserves to hear this first.'

Recognizing Domino's guarded expression and the dread in Betsy's mindvoice, Cable shook his head. 'I don't think so, Psylocke. I'm not letting her go through this alone again.'

Psylocke's eyes flashed, and this time her voice in his thoughts resonated more strongly. 'I don't recall giving you much of a choice, Cable.'

Before he could respond, her sentiments were echoed by another voice in his mind. Across the room, Domino levelled her own deadly violet stare at him, similar in intensity if a shade or two lighter than Betsy's almond gaze. Slipping into the conversation through their psilink, she calmly told him 'I don't need you to hold my hand- I'm a big girl, I can handle it.'

Sensing this was a private matter, Betsy delicately slipped out of Cable's mind. Cable didn't even pause 'Dammit, I know that, Dom. I just...' He paused, then sighed 'All right. Do it your way -' Allowing a bit of annoyance to slip into his tone, he snipped 'You always have, anyway. Just -' his voice softened, betraying a strange vulnerability 'Just don't keep me out this time. Let me know what's going on?'

She ran an absent hand through her hair, too tired to argue anymore. 'I promise, OK, Nate? Just let me get this thing done...'

While Domino and Cable conferred silently, Logan leaned down and murmured in Betsy's ear "We'll be right outside if y' need us." Squeezing her hand tightly, he released it then stood to address the room. "You all heard her," he rumbled. "Let's give th' ladies a minute or two alone."

The others looked properly dubious. Ororo, frowning, asked Betsy "You are sure?" 'I do not like this at all,' she mused 'This may be important to this mission, and does not need to be hoarded...'

Sensing her thoughts, Psylocke exhaled sharply. "We'll be just a moment," she favored them with a reassuring smile, deliberately turning up her natural telepath's charisma. After a few more moments discussion (aided in great part by Logan physically opening the door and making unsubtle sweeping motions with his arms) she was gratified to see them slowly file out of the room.

Cable was the last to leave. Obviously the loser in their internal argument, he nonetheless stopped briefly beside Domino on his way out. Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, he whispered softly "I'll be right out in the hall."

She swallowed tightly. "I know," she replied, and watching him leave, closing the door tightly behind him. Crossing the room in several long strides, she perched gingerly on the arm of the sofa opposite Betsy and bluntly asked "You've got me here, Psylocke. Now what did you see? What's going to happen down there?"

Betsy leaned back into the cushions, still feeling slightly faint. "Domino, you must understand - what I see are only possibilities. These are not certainties -"

Nodding curtly, Domino cut her off "I've been around Nate long enough to know about temporal possibilities, Betsy. I understand all that. Consider yourself disclaimed. Now, please..." Her voice was calm, but Betsy's practised ear could hear the thin hint of desperation edging it. "Just what did you see?"

Betsy tucked a lock of purple hair behind her ear, considering "I suppose you have, at that. Very well." Opening her mind, she drew the other woman into a light link. Noting with clinical satisfaction how well the blister she and Jean had lanced 'Only a week ago? It seems far longer' had healed, Betsy joined with her. 'Is this comfortable?' she asked. 'At this level, I cannot read you, but you can see whatever I project into your mind.'

Domino, unfamiliar with any telepathic signature save Nathan's, squirmed a bit. 'Yeah, it's good enough. Let's get this over with.'

Steeling herself, Betsy slowly recalled the scenes she'd seen in her vision, unfurling the images in a steady stream of glimpses from possible futures, one after the other. When she was done, Betsy gently broke the link, wincing at the bitter backwash of the other woman's emotions. Domino stared squarely at the wall for several long moments, not trusting herself to speak.

"Betsy...I..." She paused a moment, her face impassive if a touch ashen. "Thank you for showing me this first." 'What does it mean? I recognized Tyler, but who was that child?' She took several deep, desperately ignoring the nausea that twisted her gut while her mind ran through the myriad possibilities that could result in the scenes Betsy'd shown her.

Psylocke politely pretended not to notice her distress, and when she'd calmed herself, continued "Don't thank me yet. I don't presume to know what this all means, but it does confirm what I've suspected all along- you know more about what's going on than you've been telling us."

Domino stiffened at the accusation, but Betsy halted her. "Believe me, I more than most understand the need for privacy. I don't blame you for it- but you must know that I have to share what I saw with the others, too. If something happened to one of them that I could have prevented by telling them of this-" She stopped shortly, remembering a time long ago during her days with STRIKE when that very thing had happened "I simply won't have that blood on my conscience." 'Again,' a voice buried deep in her subconscious taunted. She tried to ignore it.

Domino stared back at her. "Fine. Do what you've got to do. Just-" her facade cracked, and Betsy saw cold rage flash in her eyes "Just don't get in my way when I get down there, and we won't have a problem."

Slumping into the couch, Betsy murmured "I wouldn't dream of it. Now," She inclined her head in the direction of the door "Would you mind terribly letting the others in so we can finish this up? If Logan thinks about us any louder, even a non-psi like you'll be able to hear him worry."

Domino obliged her, carefully steadying her steps. 'All right, Dom,' she shook herself 'Get back into leader-mode. Never let the soldiers see you're upset.' Pasting a look of casual indifference on her face, she opened the door, meeting the curious gazes of the others huddled in the hallway with a wonderful facsimile of an amused smile. "Nothing like gettin' a half-time report before the game begins. Come on in."

Cable was first back into the room. "Excuse us," he muttered gruffly. Not waiting to see if anyone had heard him, he took Domino by the arm and pulled her into his bedroom and closed the door.

Storm, watching the two leave, felt her cheeks flush hotly. Brushing past her, Logan stormed into the room to walk back to Betsy's side. "How'd it go?" he asked quietly.

Betsy motioned Pete and Kitty closer. "Why don't I show you all?" She asked, her aristocratic voice thin with exhaustion. "A limited psilink would be far more effective than just describing it to you."

Pete took an involuntary step backwards. Kitty, recognizing his quickly disguised look of suspicion, frowned slightly. Pursing his lips, Pete wondered how to explain his reluctance. Kitty knew of the episode with Scratch, but she didn't yet know about another, more intimate and far more painful experience he'd had with another telepath of her acquaintance. 'Yeah, I know they're bloody handy t' have around, an' I ain't got a problem with telepathic speech, but linkin'- with a stranger- that's another thing altogether.'

Ororo lifted a slanted eyebrow. "That is a sound plan, Psylocke." In a voice of spun silver, she turned to Pete. "Oh, come now, Mr. Wisdom. This is an eminently practical idea- surely you have nothing to hide from us?"

Pete's eyes narrowed dangerously at the hidden challenge in her tone but Kitty defused the potentially explosive situation by a single soft whisper "Pete- it's all right. I trust Betsy completely."

Staring down into her shining eyes, Pete reluctantly nodded. "Go ahead, Braddock," he barked, still careful to keep some of his rudimentary shields intact. 'Partial link or not, ain't no way they're gettin' a look at the crawlies in my head...'

When she'd made certain all had agreed, Betsy drew deeply from the last of her energy, took a deep breath and showed them.

Cable locked the door and looked down at Domino intently, feeling her suppressed emotions easily through their link. 'Maybe nobody else can tell it, girl, but you're scared to death,' the muscles in his jaw twitching uneasily at the realization.

With a flick of a telekinetic wrist, he turned on one of the lamps then sat down uneasily on a corner of the bed. "Dom," he whispered, voice husky with fear and pain, knowing that little else save what he feared most would provoke such a reaction from her. "Dom, he's back, isn't he? What Pete said was really true, we weren't wrong about all this?"

Lowering herself onto the bed, she rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Yeah, Nate, he is. I saw him in Betsy's futures..." The tremor in her voice belied her impassive expression, and he cupped his hand around hers gently. "Show me?"

Wishing with all her heart she could turn the simple request away, she knew she couldn't. He had as much of a right to know as she did, especially if Betsy was true to her word and told the others what she'd seen as well. 'Nate needs to see this in private, too,' she thought, pulse thudding at the prospect of showing him what she'd seen.

Her heart aching for him, for them both, she nodded, and their psi-link flared back on. She felt his familiar royal blue thoughts mingle with her own, and the solidity, the security of that touch reassured her in a way that she couldn't describe with mere words alone. At his wordless nudging, she opened the memories of Betsy's vision to him.

The dream-images passed much more easily through their solid, well-worn link than they did through Betsy's exhausted half-connection, but as each looked through the vision with the other's eyes, sharing each other's emotions, their visceral impact was doubled. Nathan stared blankly at her, grey-blue eyes round with horror. When, shuddering, he leaned into her, she surprised herself by not pushing him away. Needing the connection as desperately as he did, with a small cry she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him even closer to her, closing her eyes as his pain echoed her own, burying her face in his chest as they held each other.

When Cable and Domino emerged, both looking dry eyed and completely impassive, Logan sniffed suspiciously. 'Good try,' he chuckled humorlessly, sensing their deeply concealed distress even through the super-charged aftermath of Betsy's link.

Remembering Betsy's vision, he stood to greet them, rasping "I ain't likin' this, I ain't likin' it at all, Neena."

She raised a dark eyebrow at Betsy. "You told them?" She didn't sound particularly surprised.

Psylocke nodded, the dark circles under her eyes looking even more pronounced "I showed them."

Domino shrugged, then returned her attention back to Logan. "You think I like it, old man? Life ain't always fair- you play the hand you're dealt. You taught me that." Keeping her posture erect, she looked around the room, head held high.

Looking every bit the confident leader, she addressed the team in a crisp voice "Nothing in the vision was bad enough to preclude our completing this mission, and nothing Betsy saw says it won't get done and every one of us won't make it out. It just might- and I reemphasize might- make it a bit tougher, but I'm more convinced than ever that it needs doing. The plan is still in effect. Here's what we're going to do."

Projecting every bit of haughty self-confidence she could muster, she outlined a revised plan that adjusted for what Betsy'd shown them. Nathan, realizing what she was doing, joined in, and between the two they fielded all of the potentially embarrassing and admittedly difficult questions that arose, occasionally deferring to Pete, who immediately caught on.

She breathed a sigh of relief when it was done, comfortable in the fact that she'd given them enough information to keep them alive but not enough to betray her past, she grinned broadly and yawned, her whole body arching in a stretch. "All right. Briefing over."

"Thank God," Logan exhaled, a heart-felt exultation of release. "I'm about t' damn near starve."


Part 42

Pete's chin jerked twice in emphatic agreement with Logan's words, seizing upon the chance to change the subject. 'Won't do us no damn good at all t' sit here and brood all night. Best thing t' do is get our minds off of it for a while, get some rest, have a beer or two, then come back t'it tomorrow refreshed.'

"It's about bloody time!" His rough voice a little louder than usual, he echoed Logan's earlier sentiments. Leaning down stiffly to pick up his dark suit coat from where it lay in a crumpled mass at his feet, he complained "I don't know about th' rest of you, but I ain't ate all day, an' my stomach's about t' start digestin' my spine if I don't put somethin' in it right soon."

Wrinkling her nose, Kitty slid smoothly off the arm of the sofa to help him don the coat. "What my most articulate love is trying to say, Logan, is that he thinks sustenance is an excellent idea."

Shrugging on the jacket, Pete wrapped a lanky arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer to him. Now that the initial nervousness of meeting Kitty's 'folks' and dealing with the sensitive subject matter at hand had passed, he found himself curiously at ease. "Yeah, yeah, I need a friggin' interpreter, now. Just for that, Pryde, I oughta make you buy dinner tonight, if I wasn't such a soddin' gentleman an' all..." At Domino's not-so-polite cough, he smoothed the lapels of the rumpled jacket and grinned rakishly at her, doing his best to ease the residual tension in the room. "Yeah, I hear you over there, woman. You've known me long enough t' know what a gallant knight I am, Dom, even if I ain't got a built-in suit of armor like some people I know." Cable chuckled, and struck a chivalrous pose. She punched him in the arm.

Noticing Storm's narrowed gaze at the surreptitious mention of both Nathan and Peter, Kitty ignored their playful teasing, her brow creased in concern at her former mentor's chilly reception of her current love. 'Alright, Ororo, I can tell you're not crazy about him. To be honest, I really didn't expect you to be at first.' Turning her attention to Ororo, Kitty asked in her smoothest, most earnest voice, the one that always seemed to placate the oft-frayed nerves of her former leader and mother figure. "Ororo- where would you like to go tonight? Any place in particular you know of?"

Storm's expression softened. "To be perfectly honest, Kitten," her eyes darted involuntarily at Domino and Cable, who were standing side by side near the window, trading amiable insults with Pete. Flushing at this subtle indication of Cable's allegiances, she continued "I do not much feel like going out tonight. I had hoped that we- you and I- might have some time alone before the events of tomorrow commence. Perhaps you would join me for a quiet dinner in my suite?"

Kitty paused, feeling torn between her desire to catch up with Ororo and spend time with Pete, Logan and Betsy. Sensing Kitty's distress at having to choose, Pete considered the situation and made a quick decision. "That's a good idea, love," he told her, coal-black lashes lowered to hide the hint of disappointment he couldn't quite keep from his eyes. "I know you've been wantin' t' catch up, so why don't you do that, then th' two of you meet back up with us later, after y've had a chance t' talk? If that's what y' wanna do, of course..."

Logan saw right through Pete's sacrifice, and when Kitty looked at him, her expression pleading, he nodded gruffly. "You go ahead with 'Ro, darlin'. Me an' you'll talk later..." His teeth bared in a feral grin, he laughed "'Sides, it'll give me time t' check out yer beau without you there t' take care of him."

Pete's face paled slightly, but Logan's laughter quelled any fear he might have had. Betsy, lying prone on the couch, only waved a negligent hand, managing a sleepy smile at the younger woman. Kitty sighed.

Oblivious to the watching eyes of the others, she reached up to pull Pete into a tight hug and whispered "You big faker, it's all right. If you want me to go with you, I will. Ororo can join the rest of us, and she and I'll just talk later."

Reassured beyond reason that she chose him over her old friend, Pete shook his head and whispered gruffly, lips brushing past her ear "Nah, it's OK. You go ahead- I know you ain't seen 'er in a long time. Just make it up to me later." She could see a hint of a lecherous grin on his thin face before he pulled away, but it was quickly replaced by an affected, overly polite expression as he returned Storm's hard stare.

Grateful that Pete released her from that tough choice, Kitty smiled brilliantly at Storm. "Sure, Ororo. What say," She turned to face the others, glancing at the thin white-gold watch on her left wrist. "What say you call us when you get back?"

Logan stared at Pete for a long moment, then grunted "Sounds good, darlin'. Now that that's settled, I got me a hankerin' for a good, thick steak and a beer- you know anywhere we can find somethin' like that?"

"A beer? In London? You've got to be kidding, Logan, they don't do that sort of thing around here," Domino drawled.

Beside her, Cable chuckled. "I bet if we look real hard, we can find one somewhere. That sounds real good to me- anybody else? Betsy?"

From where she was curled on one corner of the couch, still half-asleep from the exertion of the psionic sharing of her vision with the others, Betsy's lashes fluttered open. "I'll defer to Mr. Wisdom on just where," she stretched, drawing the appreciative stares of the men "But I'm ravenously hungry myself. Count me in." Rising, still a bit unsure of her steps, she walked slowly towards the door. "Just let me change clothes and get a quick shower, and I'll meet you all downstairs in a few moments."

When they met downstairs, Kitty having assured Pete that she would most assuredly make it up to him later, the smaller group of five travelled to a nearby restaurant and settled themselves in a discreet corner table. The food was good, the libations flowing, and slowly the filling meal and the comforting atmosphere combined to erase the lingering tension left from both the mission briefing and Betsy's vision and replace it with a warm, relaxed camaraderie that was seriously enhanced when the group moved to a nearby pub.

"...Anyway, Sefton was pukin' 'er guts out one mornin'," Pete rambled on, his scotch thickened tongue not wanting to completely cooperate with the commands from his brain "An' got so mad at Wagner- 'Damn man what done this t' me'" His coarse voice lilted in a mockery of Amanda's high-pitched German accent "That she 'ported him right into th' main sittin' room, butt-ass naked. Didn't take 'im but a second t' port back out, but it damn sure gave a new meaning t' th' term blue balls, lemme tell ya."

Logan, guffawing loudly at the image, nevertheless asked with some concern "How's Mandy? How's my god-baby doin'?" His chestnut eyes gleamed- the memory of the afternoon Kurt had called and asked him if he would do the newly-married couple the honor of being godparent to their unborn child would shine in his memory forever, and it was an obligation he had no intentions of taking lightly. He'd consulted Landau, Luckman and Lake that very afternoon, and a trust had been established in the baby's behalf. 'Did it fer th' rest o' my kids,' he smiled, thinking of his sons, Kitty, Jubilee and Amiko. 'Ain't no reason not t' do it fer this one.' Looking at the man who was sharing one of those 'children's' life, he felt a wave of paternal possessiveness, which was promptly squashed. Kitty was a grown woman, and his instincts were telling him she'd made a good decision with this one, rough around the edges as he was. Logan had to laugh at the thought of himself telling anyone that they were rough around the edges.

Pete rolled his eyes. "Ah, Sefton's fine, but if you thought she was temperamental before she got pregnant, lemme tell y' somethin'- you don't know bad until you get a hormonal sorceress pissed off and cryin' in th' middle of the night, mad at th' world. Even th' bloody little flyin' rat's got sense enough to know t' take off when she gets started good."

Betsy tilted her head curiously, and her aristocratic voice, made even crisper by the care she was taking to enunciate clearly through the slightly drunken haze of the several martinis she'd consumed, asked "And how is Lockheed?" She asked casually, remembering a conversation she'd had with Meggan a few weeks back about Pete's insistence that the little dragon had spoken to him repeatedly. "How are his conversational skills coming along?"

Pete cut his eyes at her, grumbling into his scotch "Cute, Braddock. You're just about as damn funny as your muscle-bound wanker of a brother."

Betsy raised an arch eyebrow but said nothing- from what she'd gathered from Brian's infrequent mention of Pete, the antipathy between them was mutual. She'd learned a long time ago not to let her brother's rather traditional tastes influence her opinions of people.

Logan shook his head "Waitaminit. 'Heed can't talk." Taking a long final pull of his beer, he sat the heavy glass down on the sturdy table. "Least no more than a grunt or two."

Chucking with the others at Pete's vulgar response, Domino leaned forward, her elbows resting squarely on the table, dark hair spilling around her shoulders. Despite her best efforts to keep herself a bit apart from the conversation, she found herself being more and more drawn into the loose joviality of the evening. All present, save one, were trusted friends and known commodities - Psylocke was the only one of whom she was even slightly unsure. Still, though, the events of the past few days had at least assured her that the woman knew something of what she was going through, and understood what privacy was, at least. Domino sipped the last of her drink and ordered another, stronger one, having decided that she could allow herself the luxury of relaxing around these people.

Watching her tilt her head back in a full-throated laugh at one of Logan's put-downs, Cable couldn't help grinning along with her, though he'd been so absorbed by his own thoughts that he hadn't heard the first word of the joke. 'I haven't seen her laugh like that in so long...' Consciously putting aside all thoughts of what the morrow might bring, he raised his glass and downed it, reaching for another one as well. 'Maybe it's just a self defense mechanism, a necessary release after the strain of what's happened lately, but it feels damn good to relax a little bit, just enjoy an evening out with friends...'

Watching Domino there, beside him, so confident, so strong even after all they'd been through lately, he felt some of the ice that had settled in his chest thaw a bit, and he felt once more the warmth in knowing that whatever happened to them, they'd be there together to share it. Breathing out, thinking of the tension that'd been between them over the last several months, he wondered just how close he'd come to letting that slip away with his inattention and focus on 'Ororo,' he sat up straighter in his seat, realizing what his straying was costing all of them 'Oh, damn. Just what the hell am I gonna do about...'

Domino shifted in her seat, facing him, violet eyes gleaming with happiness, and his thoughts were interrupted. When she leaned forward to reach for the other drink she'd ordered, his vision was drawn to the generous amount of pale skin exposed by her low-cut black top, and he swallowed tightly. 'I'll think of something,' he told himself, then in a strained voice asked the barmaid for another drink himself.

Beside him around the large circular table, Pete glanced at the clock in the corner a bit anxiously. 'Wonder how Kitty's doin'?' he thought, still more than a bit concerned about what she and Storm might be discussing. He'd called her when they moved to the pub, and given her directions, but something in her tone made him think that she wouldn't be joining them, and that worried the hell out of him. His instincts were screaming at him that her old friend Storm didn't like him one bit, and that the woman probably didn't have a problem speaking her mind. 'No tellin' what the woman's sayin' about me,' he worried, then shook his head.

'Idiot, give Kitty some credit an' just ask 'er about it when you get in, an' then if you're still worried, ask Dom about it later,' he decided. 'She might be a little more unbiased than Kitty when it comes t' Storm- or maybe not,' he remembered the tension between the two women during the debriefing. 'There's somethin' goin' on there, but maybe at least Dom'll give me another opinion about her, anyway.' In all actuality, he'd been afraid- hell, convinced- that none of them would approve of him, and had been surprised by the seeming ease of Logan's acceptance.

Domino, staring into her bourbon, an enigmatic smile playing on her lips, was surprised out of her silence by Logan's teasing "Hey, Neena, whatcha doin' over there, tryin' t' look all cool and mysterious- it won't ruin your reputation if y' loosen up and have a good time just this once."

Her eyebrows rose at the challenge, and she laughed when he winked at her. 'Ah, what the hell,' she thought, the liquor and companionship loosening her normal inhibitions. Placing one hand on Nathan's broad thigh for balance, she leaned over him until she was almost face to face with Logan, noticing Cable's sharp intake of breath and smiling to herself.

In a deep, sultry voice she breathed "Oh, I know how to have a good time, old man. Don't you worry about that." Tossing her hair back with a satisfied smirk, she sat back down, her body brushing lightly against Cable's massive chest as she did so, a little closer than sheer necessity would demand. Grinning at the hoots and chuckles from the others, it was apparent that Cable's bass laughter was conspicuously absent from their loud amusement. Looking up at him she found him staring at her, his left eye glowing golden, the hunger in his face plain to see even without the tingling need she felt through their link.

Domino looked away quickly, downing another drink, not knowing whether the dangerous warmth she felt at Nathan's reaction to her not so subtle flirting was a good thing or not.

Back at the hotel, Kitty and Ororo were relaxing in the suite as they consumed the relatively good room service fare and reminisced. Picking at her salad, Ororo smiled warmly at Kitty, who was being almost as fastidious in her eating habits as Ororo. 'It seems I have had quite an influence,' Ororo thought, obscurely pleased by something as insignificant as this small habit.

She was having a marvellous time- until now, she and Kitty had just talked over the old days, reminiscing over the many adventures they'd shared, delighting in each other's company. They discussed Amanda's pregnancy, and Meggan and Brian's upcoming nuptials, and other innocent gossip. It was truly good to spend time with her, alone, and she was thrilled that the odious Wisdom had not wanted Kitty to join him in the evening's libations. Kitty had mentioned meeting up with them later, but Wisdom had not called her back and Ororo certainly wasn't going to remind her of it, not when they had so much to discuss.

"And how are things with Excalibur, Kitten?" she began, genuinely curious about the welfare of her old friends on the team.

Kitty had just bit into a mouthful of crisp lettuce, and she chewed it quickly, smiling wryly at the inevitable timing of the question. "Oh, Ororo, it's been crazy," she finally answered, swallowing the last of the food. She met the older woman's affectionate gaze with an apologetic smile "There's really no excuse for my having not seen you all in so long- seems like the only time we ever get together is when someone's sick, or hurt, or a trademarked threat to human existence comes up," Kitty rolled her eyes at that last, then paused "Or there's been a death." She sucked her breath in at that, definitely not wanting to get into that with Ororo. The time the X-Men, led by Storm, had tricked the world into thinking they were dead still hurt her, after all these years. Tonight was going far too well for that old pain to resurface.

'We've had way too many of them, too,' she thought sadly 'Doug, 'Yana, Maddie, Courtney, Allysande, even poor Larry Bodine,' she ran through the list in her mind, not wanting to even consider the friends and teammates who'd just slipped away over the years. 'Rachel, Kylun, Feron, Cerise, Max,' she thought, remembering the Excalibur members who were no longer with their team fondly 'Wonder how you guys are doing, where you're at?'

Ororo closed her eyes at Kitty's mention of those they'd lost, remembering the pain of Illyana's funeral just two years ago, and of the tortured life the girl who lived her life as a demon and died as an angel had led. "I know," her melodic voice was compassionate "How is Peter?"

Kitty's shoulders slumped, and she sighed. "I don't know, Ororo, I truly don't. I'd love to tell you he's fine, and leave it at that, but... as long as I've known him, as much as I thought I knew about him, I don't think I'll ever be able to figure him out."

Ororo curled her legs under her, leaning back into the soft cushions of the couch. "What is wrong?" She tilted her head curiously "I know Peter had some...issues, but I was under the impression that since he had returned to Earth and rejoined your team, he was doing much better. Surely, being so near to you has helped him deal with his feelings about Illyana and Magneto, Mikhail and Callisto..." She suppressed her own twinge of guilt at the last two names.

Kitty shook her head sadly "I wish it was that easy, Ororo. Yeah, we're on the same team, but... it's hard to describe. It's like I've changed, become a different person than I was when we were together, but Peter- Ororo, he's one of my oldest friends, and we've shared so much together, but there's an inherent childishness in him that sometimes pisses me off so much that I can't even stand to be around him." In a dark voice, she continued "I guess you've heard about what happened when he first came back."

Ororo smoothed a fold of her skirt "Tell me about it," she encouraged "Kurt alluded to an incident, but swore he was honor-bound not to reveal what had happened. What did Peter do that was so terrible, Kitty?"

Kitty sighed, her delicate features clouding at the memory of that horrible night. "Peter almost killed Pete, that's what happened." In a tight, angry voice, even after all this time, she muttered "He came back to Muir, looking for me, and found Pete and I outside. He thought- no, he didn't think, that was the problem- that Pete was attacking me, but he waited- he waited, Ororo- until I'd gone inside and in a jealous rage he almost killed a man he'd never met, a man who'd never harmed him in any way. "

"I would not go that far," Ororo objected, trying to reconcile this story with her gentle 'little brother'. "Certainly one could argue that by seeing you with another man, Peter felt betrayed, and acted to protect you. Seeing you with someone else after so long must have hurt him deeply."

Kitty pursed her lips angrily. "Well, that wasn't Pete's fault, and it wasn't mine." Her voice rose accusingly "It took me a long time to get over feeling guilty towards Peter for what the Professor had me do to him after Illyana's funeral. But no matter what happened, nothing gave Peter the right to act the way he did that night. Pete almost died, and if he had, I swear," She paused, collecting herself, not liking to even think about that possibility. "I don't know what I would have done." The words rushing out, tumbling over each other in a quick race to be out, she confessed all the pent-up feelings she'd had for so long. No matter how long it had been since they'd seen each other, she always treasured Ororo's counsel.

Ororo sipped her water slowly, musing over Kitty's words and the depth of feeling in them. "You would have survived, Kitty. No matter what happens, that is what we do. We survive." Remembering her own halting relationships as of late, the pain of losing Forge to Raven and the indignity of Cable's apparent defection, her expression hardened. "No man is worth losing one's self."

Kitty stood up, pacing around the room. "I know that, Ororo, I do. It's just, with Peter right there, it's sometimes hard for me to forget what he did to Pete and treat him like any other teammate."

Not liking the way the conversation had turned, Storm implored "Come now, Kitty, it cannot be that bad. You two once loved each other so much. Is everything about the love you shared gone?"

Almost grudgingly, Kitty admitted "There are some times when he acts like the same old Peter, when I'm reminded of what all we've shared and what all he's been through that I forget what a cosmic dork he's been." Hurriedly, she amended "But I'm absolutely certain it'd never work out. Even if it weren't for the fact that now Pete's in the picture- Ororo, you're gonna love Pete, you just need to get to know him better - I'm not the same person who fell in love with Piotr. I mean," she widened her eyes, raising her hands for emphasis "I was thirteen years old! I'm not saying I didn't love him - I sure as hell thought I did- but what I have with Pete is an adult love, an equal partnership, not the infatuated hero-worship I had for Peter. I'll never not care for Peter- we've shared too much, been through too much together for that- but I'll never love him the way I love Pete."

Keeping the disdain from her voice, Ororo carefully asked "And what about Mr. Wisdom? I read your letter, Kitten, but I had no idea I'd be meeting him so soon. Why hadn't you told us about him sooner?" There was genuine hurt in her voice.

Kitty raised one shoulder in a half-shrug. "I- well, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that he hasn't made much of a first impression on you," she began "I wasn't sure how you'd react."

Ororo nodded carefully, answering honestly "I would not have chosen such a man for you, I will admit."

Kitty chuckled "Me, too. Before I got to know him, I thought he was the biggest jerk I'd ever met. That's not so, though, Ororo, trust me. He's so different, so... honest, so real. He might put on a tough show, but inwardly, he's the biggest sweetheart I've ever met. He's everything I never knew I always wanted."

Ororo met Kitty's lovestruck gaze, and, feeling pain at what she knew she must do, answered her bluntly "He is not what you need, my Kitten."

Kitty's chin jerked up "Excuse me?"

Ororo sighed. "I do not like to have to do this to you, but I see no other way around it. Your Mr. Wisdom is not the man you think he is."

Kitty's paused, puzzled, and very carefully, very calmly told her "I think you'd better explain that, Ororo,"

Before the other woman could reply, Kitty's cellular phone rang. "Hello," she answered in a distracted voice, her brown eyes trained right on Ororo's blue ones, seeking answers for the cold words she'd just heard. Yes, she'd known Ororo might not necessarily be as happy about the match as she was, and to be honest, she'd expected a little prodding about Peter, but in no way had she expected this overt hostility towards Pete.

"Pryde!" Pete's rough voice greeted her through the line "How's th' talk goin', love?"

"Just fine, Pete," she answered, not looking away from Ororo's stoic gaze, hoping the hurt didn't show in her eyes. "What's going on with you?"

"Well," he answered, and she could hear the din of the crowd in the background "We've moved t' the Lions Head Pub right across th' street from th' restaurant over on Wugumsse Street. You an' Storm wanna join us?"

She thought for a moment, then answered "I don't know- we'll think about it. Don't wait for us, though- Ororo and I are finding lots to talk about."

The coolness in her voice slipped just a bit at the obvious disappointment in his "Suit y'rself." A brief pause "You all right, Kitty? Y' sound a little strange..."

She was quick to reassure him. "No, I'm fine, Pete. Listen- call me when you get in." When he'd agreed, and was about hang up, she called "Hey!"

He stopped. "Wot? You gonna meet us after all?"

The smile in her voice was obvious even through the phone. "No, you stupid git. I just love you."

In the corner of the pub they'd just stepped into, watching Domino head directly to a large table that had very conveniently just come open, he grinned "'Course y' do. I'm so bloody charmin' you don't have a choice." Ending the connection, he smiled, then went to join the others at the table.

In the suite, Kitty folded the phone. Putting it away, she looked up at Ororo and asked "Now where were we?"


Part 43

'This is not as easy as I thought it would be.' Storm ran a hand across her face, a bit uncertain about how to continue. "Kitten, I know this will cause you pain. You must believe me, that is not my wish, not my wish at all, but for your own good you must know what kind of man you are consorting with."

Mustering a flat "Go on," Kitty eyed her warily. "I'm listening, Ororo. Talk." 'God, please don't let this be what I think it is....'

"Very well," the older woman inclined her head. "I suppose there is no other way to do this other than to simply tell you. This man, this Peter Wisdom, is a liar and a murderer. He is the worst kind of mutant- he uses his abilities to kill, Kitty, to ruin the lives of the innocent. He is no different than any of the villains we fight against, and you- you and Excalibur- have taken him into your heart and home. I could not live with myself if he harmed any of you- he is a weed that needs to be pulled," she concluded, a worried frown marring her elegant features.

Kitty's eyes glinted dangerously, and she held herself very still. 'Shit. It is.' "Tell me what you know," she commanded in a rough whisper, and had to close her eyes against the litany of evils Ororo listed, though she already knew of all but a few of the more gruesome incidents. Rising halfway through Ororo's speech, she paced around the room, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth in the suddenly chill room. 'This never gets easy, does it?'

When she was done, Storm's expression softened in sympathy for Kitty's obvious distress. "I understand very well what it is to be deceived by a person one thinks one loves, but I can assure you this - it is far better you know now and save yourself later hurt." Remembering the pain she felt when Forge left her, denied her the chance to accept his marriage proposal, she looked quickly away. Remembering the still-unresolved situation with Cable, the neglect and ambivalence with which he'd treated her lately, Storm's resolve hardened. 'I am doing the right thing,' she reassured herself 'Though she may hurt now, this will save her from so much pain...'

Ashen, Kitty turned to face her. Standing with her legs slightly apart, almost in a defensive posture, she questioned in a low, quiet voice "Is that everything you know?" When Ororo nodded, Kitty continued quietly, her voice curiously impassive "And just how did you find all this out?"

Ororo rose gracefully from the sofa to stand by Kitty's side, resting her hands on the younger woman's slender shoulders. "The computers at the mansion can access almost any data source on the planet," she gently reminded her. "And as co-leader of the team, my security level is such that I can enter most of those programs. Even so, I will admit that Wisdom hid his activities well - even our system was unable to access certain information- but I assure you, Kitten, everything that I've told you has been true."

'Oh, I don't doubt that,' Kitty thought, feeling physically sick to her stomach. 'Pete's told me about most of those things himself, but as much death and dying as I've seen in all these years, I never get used to it...' Biting her lip, she forced herself not to jerk away from her old friend in anger. "Storm," she began, and Ororo's face clouded at the use of the more formal code-name "I'm gonna say this just once. This discussion ends when we leave this room. Do you understand? I don't want to hear any more about it after tonight."

Ororo stepped back, unaccustomed to being spoken to by Kitty in such a manner. When she nodded, a suspicious look shining in her pale eyes, Kitty drew a deep breath and continued "All right, then. Before I tell you, I want to ask you something, and answer me truthfully. How is what you just described different from anything else some of the X-men have done?"

Ororo shook her head, and in a puzzled voice questioned "Kitty, how can you even compare any of the X-men with what I have just told you? The X-Men are not murderers, we do not steal and kill and maim for the sheer joy of it. What Wisdom has done is more analogous to Sabretooth, or," her voice hardened "Mystique, or Sinister, or any other of the innumerable villains we have faced than any of the X-Men."

Kitty spun around to face her, arms rigid at her sides. "How so?" she responded angrily, then paused for a moment to regain her composure. When she did, her voice was still harsh "Just what's the difference between what those 'villains' do and what we've done in the past, other than a genuine desire to change? We're a team of formal criminals and maniacs, Ororo. You and Gambit were thieves, Rogue a terrorist, and Logan, Cable and Bishop have all been professional killers!" her voice cracked "And if you want to talk atrocities, Ororo, what about Magneto, or Emma Frost, or even that new girl, whatshername...Marrow?" She ignored Storm's look of distaste at that last and bowed her chest out slightly, standing directly in front of the taller woman and in a rapidly rising voice, cried "What about Jean, Ororo? She destroyed an entire planet. All of them- all of us- have done things we're not proud of. Those people are here- they're heroes- because we've given them a second chance. Pete's no different."

Ororo looked away, and her voice was laced with sadness. "I feared you would not listen to me, Kitty. Those people have done horrible things, true, but they at least had reasons for their actions. Jean was possessed by the Phoenix-force, Logan has had his mind tampered with innumerable times, Rogue was indoctrinated by Mystique, Bishop and Cable were raised in horrible futures- need I go on?"

Kitty threw her hands up in the air. "Dammit, Ororo, don't you see? That's just my point! They overcame those situations because we loved them and trusted them enough to give them a second chance! Much as I dislike the woman, even Emma Frost has come around, and from what I understand, doing a great job at the Massachusetts Academy! Hell, the X-Men even gave Sabretooth an opportunity to change, so why won't you do the same for Pete?"

With a black look, Ororo responded "And see how well that came out! Betsy paid dearly for that folly, Kitty. I do not want you to have to pay the same price for blindly trusting this man! And as for the others- They are working for their repentance, working every day. That they have overcome their pasts does not excuse what Wisdom has done. Did you even hear what I have just told you? Do those things not even have an impact on how you feel about this man, that he has been deceiving all of you in keeping this from you, that you do not know him at all?"

Kitty spun to face her, fists clenched in anger "How presumptuous is that, Ororo? How do you know he hasn't told me all of this and more, that he isn't sorry for what he's done? You've never even met the man before today."

Ororo's face blanched, and Kitty muttered coldly "It's none of your business, but just let me put your mind at ease. He has, and he is."

Watching Ororo digest that information, she fumed 'I can't count the number of nights that I've just sat up with him, when I was too tired to think, much less talk, just sat with him when he couldn't sleep because he was afraid of the dreams. I've held him in his sleep, when the nightmares make him wake up crying and screaming, begging forgiveness for what he's done. I've listened to him confess most of these horrible things- I've listened to him and told him he wasn't going to hell, that I still loved him, that he could absolve himself of the pain he caused when he wasn't the man he is now. Whatever Ororo thinks about him, she's wrong.'

Neither spoke for a moment, until Ororo broke the silence with an unflinching "Are you quite done? May I continue?"

Glaring at the older woman, Kitty very nearly riposted with one of Pete's most vulgar expressions. Instead, she took several deep breaths to calm herself, knowing that the other woman's words had only come from a desire, however misguided it may have been, to protect her. 'Old habits die hard, I guess.' Sighing, she nodded, and her body relaxed slightly. "Yeah, I guess I am. I love you, Ororo. I hope you know that, and I suppose in some twisted way I ought to appreciate what you're trying to do here tonight, even though I'm not a little girl for you to try to shelter from the big bad world. Whatever concerns you have about Pete- forget about them. There's no need to worry about our safety with him."

Ororo held out her hands, a disbelieving expression on her face. "He has truly told you all of these things, and still you stay with him? Does the rest of Excalibur know?"

Feeling her temper rise again at her rebuffed gesture of peace, Kitty nodded curtly. "They know enough. They know he defected to us from Black Air because he couldn't take that life anymore. His Black Air experience and contacts have saved the team's life- all of our lives- more than once, Ororo. Ask Kurt or Rahne if you don't believe me."

Returning to her seat, Ororo's eyes narrowed, her quick mind spinning through the implications of what Kitty had just told her. "I shall have to think on these things."

Kitty growled in a tone very reminiscent of Logan's when he'd finally had enough. Smiling tightly, she grabbed her purse. "You do that. I'll be in my- in our room." Crossing the room in several quick strides, she looked back over her shoulder to see Ororo, regal and impassive as always, staring at her. "I'll see you in the morning," Kitty muttered, then phased through the door into the empty hallway.

Ororo just watched her go.

Domino tapped one perfectly manicured fingernail, still painted a dreary peach, on the sturdy oak table in a jaunty beat. The effects of the drinks had finally started to kick in, despite their heightened mutant metabolisms, and the atmosphere at the table had turned from congenial to positively giddy, charged with an air that she recognized from old- the excitement, the tightly-charged abandon of the night before a particularly difficult battle. 'Somehow, it's different with X-Force,' she mused, 'As much as I care about those kids, I'm still the boss with them. I can't let myself go, not like this, not with them, and Nate sure as hell can't...' Tonight, all that didn't matter. Tonight, she felt far more like the wild, carefree woman she'd been than the tired, jaded leader she'd become. Tonight, she felt young, alive, and she was determined not to let that feeling go to waste.

After moving past the initial awkwardness of realizing the effect of her little game on Nathan, she began to relax and enjoy his discomfiture, teasing him subtly, relishing the payback for the months when he'd barely acknowledged her existence outside of 'work'. 'Serves the bastard right,' she thought with only the slightest touch of rancor, narrowing her eyes slightly in not-quite forgotten indignation as he squirmed so satisfactorily when she 'accidentally' brushed his leg with hers. Despite herself, she felt the same thrill of desire as she felt from him through their link, and she stopped short, well aware of the fact that the alcohol was rapidly lowering the walls between them, walls already made weak by the emotional trauma they'd shared, the intimacy of the pain and hurt that they could only share with each other.

Knowing she was playing a dangerous game, considering how strained their relationship had been over the last several months, Domino sighed. 'Yeah, that's the problem,' she thought bitterly, remembering his reaction at her night away with John. 'Nate can't stand for me to be too far away from him and he can't stand for me to be too close. In crisis, when we need each other, we're there and there's no one else in the world, but when things are fine, neither one of us can bear to even think, much less talk about it.' Her eyes widening in surprise, she thought ruefully 'And I'm a fine one to talk. Ever since all that happened, he's been the one who's tried to talk about things, and I'm the one who keeps turning him away. A complete reversal of what happened after Israel. Our timing just sucks.' Taking a thoughtful sip of her drink, her jaw set in determination. 'Well, I'm tired of it.'

Logan, sitting between Betsy and Pete, took a deep breath. The beer was having very little effect on him- his healing factor was diluting the alcohol almost as soon as it hit his system, but his keen senses were detecting almost every nuance of a complex emotional web criss-crossing the table. Domino and Cable- while almost as amused as Domino at Cable's reactions, the charged sexual tension between them was so strong that it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore his own yearnings, and Betsy was not helping matters. Leaning slightly toward him, smiling so slyly at him, brushing his thoughts with hers, even her body language was doing nothing to dissuade him. 'Shit. Just what th' hell am I gonna do?' He'd never cared much for Warren, true, but the man was a teammate.... 'That ain't stopped ya in the past,' he reminded himself, remembering the passionate attraction he and Jean had shared for so long, even when she and Scott were together.

'Be honest with yourself, man,' he told himself, careful to keep the thought hidden deep under every layer of mental shielding he had, lest Betsy hear. He shuddered at that thought. 'I know damn good and well if this was Jean sittin' here, actin' like this, I wouldn't think twice about Scoot. I'd feel like shit afterwards, but that wouldn't stop me. Betts is a hell of a woman- Wings don't deserve her, anyway. Think of another excuse.' Relaxing here with friends, listening to her clear, deep laugh at one of Wisdom's stories, feeling her intoxicating nearness, he really couldn't think of one.

Listening to the story with half an ear, Nathan gave Domino a curious look, left eye glittering in the dim light of the pub. After what they'd been through today, what they'd shared, their psilink had been practically simmering with an unspoken hunger, and here she was playing with him like this? 'Dammit, Dom, what are you getting at, here?' he thought, frustrated in more ways than one. Watching her stare at him so smugly, his eyes narrowed, and he raised the heavy mug and drained it. "I've gotta get some air," he muttered, interrupting Pete's story, and slid his chair back, tipping the table precariously as he raised his massive bulk out of the chair.

Looking up at him, Domino caught his hand and asked in a sugary voice "Mind getting me another drink while you're up?"

"You've had enough," he growled, then turned on his heel and walked away.

Chuckling under his breath, Logan rasped "You ought not play with him like that, darlin'." Domino shrugged, tipped back her glass and downed it, welcoming the warm burn the rest of the dark liquor left as it poured down her throat. Wiping her lips with the back of her hand, she focused her eyes, with some effort, on Logan. "You're takin' up for Nate, Logan? Never thought I'd see the day."

One shaggy brow lifted, and in a slightly reproachful voice, Logan replied. "Yeah, well, Neena, never thought I'd see the day when he needed it." Domino didn't deign to respond, but in his mind he heard another feminine voice 'I'd stay out of it if I were you, Logan. Cable deserves all this, and more, for the way he's treated both her and Ororo lately. Besides, do you really want to get involved in a lovers' triangle?' Betsy purred, lingering a bit longer in his thoughts than necessary, and he immediately caught the hidden meaning in her question. It was obvious that she, too, was drunk, but in her tone, in the look in her eyes, in everything his senses were telling him, he felt the truth of her desire, and felt it mirror in himself.

Catching her aubergine gaze, Logan swallowed, and underneath the table placed his hand on her thigh. 'Yeah, Betts, I think I do.'

Standing outside, Nathan leaned back against the brick wall, watching the people walk in and out of the busy pub. They'd all donned image inducers before they left the hotel, deeming a regular restaurant and pub to be less of a security risk than the Crown, but he still felt like he stood out even in this drunken crowd. Watching the people stroll down the sidewalk, some arm in arm, some in scattered clusters, a scant few alone, Nathan swallowed tightly. Unable to lose himself in the drinks and the camaraderie as easily as Dom had, he felt incredibly alone even among this group of almost-friends. The sense of loneliness had been with him so long that he rarely even acknowledged it anymore, barely even felt it, but always knew it was there. 'And it's your own damn fault, Nathan,' he brooded. 'Too afraid of getting close to people to let them know you, too afraid of what that association with you will cost them....' Thinking of Domino, he felt a lump rise in his throat, and he closed his eyes, her confession of what Tyler had done still too fresh to forget. 'Case in point. See what knowing you has cost her?'

Inside the pub, Domino's eyes narrowed. Both of them too drunk to exercise sufficient control over it, she felt his emotions far too vividly through their link. Annoyed at this blunt intrusion into her night off, angry with herself for teasing him when he'd been through as much as she had that day, she exhaled sharply and tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling for a few minutes, the patterned tiles undulating slightly through her blurred vision. 'My body must be worn out to be this affected by just drinkin'... I usually can go twice this long.' Looking around the table, surveying the numerous empty glasses and bottles that littered the table, she snorted 'Or maybe we just drank more than I thought we did. Been doin' that a lot, lately...'

Feeling Nathan's misery, she tentatively opened her mind to extend a sort of apology, but looking a little closer she realized that in sharp contrast to the deep, excited longing she'd felt earlier from him earlier, their link was now colored with a familiar muddy orange angst. 'Dammit, I have had friggin' enough of this! One way or the other, it ends, Nate. Tonight.'

Noticing the change in her demeanor, Pete leaned over across Nathan's empty chair and whispered "Dom? You all right, girl?" His scotch-thickened voice echoed a bit louder than he'd intended, but Betsy and Logan seemed too lost in their own private discussion to notice. It didn't take the observational skills of a spy to notice that something had been going on all night between them, and between them and Dom and Nate's little dance, he'd felt something like a fifth wheel all night. 'Damn, I miss Kitty. 'ope everything went good with 'er and Storm...'

Domino sighed and finished her drink. Bracing a hand on his shoulder, she rose, and stood there a moment, readjusting her bearings against the sudden swim of the room. "Yeah, Pete, I'm fine," she lied. "Just tired. I think it's about time to call it a night, though." Feeling in her pocket for money, she removed a large bill and laid it on the table. "This ought to take care of mine and Nate's drinks." Smiling, a hint of her earlier good humor in her voice, she waved "I had a good time tonight, people, truly. We'll see you in the morning."

Betsy turned her attention from Logan for a moment, lifting her chin in a regal smile. "I enjoyed myself as well, Domino. We should really do this more often."

Beside her, Logan nodded, nostrils flaring slightly. 'She ain't no more tired than I am,' he thought shrewdly. 'She's pissed off. I'd hate t' be in Nate's shoes right now...' Aloud, he rumbled "See y' in the mornin', Neena. Behave yourself."

"You, too, old man," she responded pointedly, and he raised his glass in reply. Squeezing Pete's shoulder, she turned and walked away, feeling gloriously woozy despite her irritation at Nathan's characteristically dour behavior. Stopping by the door to get their coats, she saw him through the window, leaning against the wall of the pub, sorrow wrapped around him like a shroud, and her eyes narrowed. 'Damn if I'm letting you do this. I'm not wasting this night on our usual shit- you and I are going to get some things straight.' That decision made, feeling once more the wild abandon she'd exulted in earlier, Domino stepped out of the door, a resolute expression on her face.

Pete stayed there a few moments longer, finishing his drink, chatting amiably, until the clock in the corner struck two. "Well, I guess that's me cue t' go," Pete glanced at it a bit regretfully. "If I get in too late, Kitty'll have me guts fer garters, an' I won't be no good t' nobody in that condition." At Logan's somewhat proud look at this mention of Kitty's disposition, his brow knitted, and he threw a wad of money down on the table. "'S probably your fault, too, you horrid old man. Teachin' 'er 'ow t' fight's one thing, but did you 'ave t' give 'er that temper, too?" he groused, knowing he didn't mean a word of it.

Logan wasn't fooled either. Raising his palms, he smiled ruefully "Don't look at me, kid, she got that all on her own."

At Betsy's lilting laugh, Pete shook his head. "Yeah, I was afraid of that." With a hint of a wicked leer, he questioned "Can you two make it home by yerselves, or will y' need some help gettin' back to th' 'otel?"

Betsy replied archly, intentionally misinterpreting the gist of his comment in favor of another, far easier reply. "Considering I spent several years living in London, I certainly think I know my way around this town."

"I'm sure y' do," Pete took his coat, carefully keeping a smirk off his face as he waved them goodbye.

As he left, Betsy leaned forward, looking around the empty table. 'At last,' she breathed, and stretched languidly, and his breath caught in his throat. 'We're alone.'

'You ready t' leave, too?' he questioned, taking her hand in his own, intertwining her long slim fingers in his thick, callused ones.

His eyes never leaving hers, she answered 'I thought you'd never ask.'

"Hey, sailor, you lookin' for a date?" Cable jumped, startled out of his reverie by her low, amused question.

"Dom." He fixed her with a piercing glare.

"Who else can sneak up on you like that? C'mon- walk me back to the hotel. It's cold out here."

Taking his coat from her, his deep voice rose slightly, and against the buzz of the background noise amplified by his intoxicated state, he questioned belligerently "What's the matter? Not any fun in there without anyone to torment?"

Tightening the belt of her leather coat, she shivered in the cool night air, taking his arm. "Oh, please, Nathan, lose the melodrama. It's so unbecoming."


Part 44

Nathan slowly disengaged her arm from his, left eye blazing against the dim glow of the streetlights. Suspicious at this sudden turnabout in her behavior, the beer made his voice brusquer and much louder than he'd intended "Hold on just a minute. Who said I'm ready to go? Fifteen minutes ago you were sittin' in there havin' the time of your life at my expense, and now you're ready to leave, so I should too? I don't think so, Dom."

Domino blew an exasperated stream of air through her lips, her breath visible in the cold night air. Her first instinct was to just leave him there to stew, but her own stubborn nature wouldn't let things lie that easily. Staring at him intently, focusing through her own alcoholic haze, she really looked at him for the first time since she'd stepped outside to join him, and she was dismayed at what she saw.

He stood there glaring at her, his entire body rigid, his face awash in the guilt and self-recrimination she felt through their link. He looked like a condemned man about to face a firing squad. 'Shit, Nate. It's not as easy for you to put things out of your mind, is it?' Remembering Betsy's vision, her jaw set in grim determination. 'I'm sorry, but you're not the only one nervous about tomorrow. I don't know if I'll have the nerve to do this in the morning, and it damn sure needs doing.'

Stepping back a bit, giving him the space she knew was so precious to him, she repeated sincerely "Nate, come back with me. We need to talk."

Cable pulled his collar a little higher around his throat. "Dom, can't it wait until morning?" he asked, his voice tired, almost pleading. "If this has to do with the mission, I just don't think either one of us is in any condition to plan tactics or strategies right now."

Domino snorted dismissively. "Bullshit, Nathan. We've both been a hell of a lot drunker than this during some of our best work. But no," she jammed her hands in her pockets for warmth, "that's the last thing I want to think about right now. I want to talk about..." she paused, took a deep breath, then said it, averting her eyes from his. "Talk about us."

"What?" Cable blinked, surprised. "Thought you didn't want to get into all of that," he grunted, turning away from her to look back into window of the pub. The evening's libations had loosened his tongue as well as thickened it, and he felt removed, distant from his body, staring at her through the almost surreal mist of fog that had rolled in from the river. "Why now? I've been tryin' to talk to you for two weeks now, tell you I was sorry," he continued in a petulant voice "But you wouldn't listen."

Sighing, Domino took his arm again, partly for the tactile comfort, partly for the warmth. Feeling her temper rise, she cajoled "Well, I'm listening now. C'mon. Come back to the hotel with me - I'm serious, for once."

Without turning his head, he asked in a flat, dull tone "Why? Why are you even bothering?"

Before she could stop herself, frustrated at his pretend indifference, she cried out, choking on a small frustrated moan that died in her throat. "Dammit, Nate, because I don't want to be alone tonight!" Swallowing hard, realizing what she'd finally admitted, a look of naked vulnerability pierced through her reckless bravado. The drink and the lingering exhaustion had made her cross boundaries she'd long ago set for herself where he was concerned, and now, staring at him, recognizing her own fears mirrored in the depths of his eyes, she didn't care. 'It's past time.'

In her mind, she felt a fumbling, tentative 'Are you sure, Dom? Are you serious this time?' The thought was earnest, hesitant, and she could see that he was holding his breath, afraid this was another of her games.

Looking up at him, she pursed her lips wryly. 'Look, I'm not asking you to jump my bones, Nate. I just want to talk,' she joked, brushing past her momentary lapse in composure.

Recognizing her fears, sharing them, Nathan smiled. 'Ah, but the night is young, m'lady,' he teased, taking her arm as they began the short walk back to the hotel.

In unspoken accord, they restrained themselves to small talk at first, discussing the evening and the others on the trip, postponing more serious topics until they'd returned to their suite.

"Logan's got good instincts," Nathan acknowledged ruefully when she mentioned how surprised she was at how easily he'd accepted Pete. "Didn't take him long to peg me as a bad guy the first time we met and, back then, he was right."

Domino raised closed fists to her mouth, blowing on them for warmth. 'Phew,' she wrinkled her nose at the scent of the alcohol on her breath. 'Little strong, there.' "Ah, you two just got off to a bad start," she corrected him. "If I'd've introduced you, like I was *going* to," she said pointedly, and he looked away, a small smile playing on his lips "Then you'd've saved yourself some serious problems down the line. But no, the two of you have to go off and get into a dick-measuring contest right off the bat."

He laughed aloud, a deep bass rumble that echoed in the quiet night air, protesting weakly "It wasn't quite that simple, Dom..."

She shook her head, a faintly superior look on her face. "Wasn't it? Stupid men. Fighting for ten years just to see who got to be alpha-wolf, even when I vouched for both of you with the other. Personally, I chalk it up to testosterone."

"Oh, don't even try that, Dom," he countered, pleased at the light banter. It'd been too long since they felt comfortable enough with each other to joke like this, to kid around without that sharper underbite of unspoken emotions clouding the picture. She'd suckered him in, he knew, tricked him out of his earlier melancholy with her rambling teasing, just as she'd done so often before. The only difference was that tonight, she'd actually admitted that she needed him. Tonight, she'd actually asked for his help. Not willing to think any farther along those lines, he waggled a shiny finger under her nose. "Testosterone, my ass. I can't count the number of times one of us has had to pull you off of somebody, man or woman, just because they looked at you the wrong way in a bar."

Domino mumbled good-naturedly under her breath "Yeah, well, I was young and stupid. What was your excuse?"

"I was younger and stupider," he informed her in an authoritative, no-nonsense voice, but she could see his full lips curve upwards in the dim light.

"Younger, maybe," she allowed, and grinned at his ribald reply.

Nodding politely to the very proper doorman as they approached the elegant apartment building, Betsy was quickly admitted into the richly appointed lobby after she'd verified her identity. Beside her, Logan was strangely quiet, allowing her to carry the conversation. It was her city, and she was in her element, effusively describing this building or that monument as the cab she'd called brought them to this point. It'd taken every ounce of self-control he possessed to pay attention to her words, he was so enraptured by the woman herself. 'We shoulda done this a long time ago.'

"I may not have inherited any of the estate," Logan caught the bitterness in her voice as she led him across the room towards the elevator "Or be allowed much of a say in the day to day dealings of the company, but my dear brother has graciously allowed me full access to all of the Braddock facilities when I'm in town visiting, including several very nice flats. I prefer these humble quarters."

Looking around the sumptuously decorated building, Logan shook his head wryly. "Yeah, you're really slummin' here, Betts."

Her lips curved in a wry semblance of a smile, but he could see the smouldering indignation burning behind her slanted eyes. "It's not that, Logan. My investments have left me quite well off, so the financial aspect of it doesn't bother me at all. I just find it...disturbing," she paused "That even in this day and time, I, as a woman, have to content myself with being the humble supplicant whenever I want to take part in the enterprise that is my birthright as well." She stepped into the elevator when it opened, pressing the button for the top floor. "It's a trait my brother and Warren share," she told him quietly, and he stiffened at the mention of her lover. "For all of their rhetoric, both are very much traditionalists, content to operate within their upbringing. Despite living with and fighting beside women, neither has ever completely accepted the notion that a female can be an equal in the business world. Warren just can't accept that I might be as able as he in the boardroom, so he's never given me that opportunity."

That was all it took. The fierce jealousy overpowering his control, he slid towards her in one liquid motion, muscles moving so quickly that even her telepathy gave her no inkling of what he was doing until it was already done. Snaking an arm around her waist, he pulled her to him, his body pressing tightly into hers. At her surprised gasp, he leaned forward until their faces were only inches apart. "I don't wanna talk about Warren tonight," he growled, dark eyes boring into hers, and she felt something that had been bound tightly inside her tear itself loose.

"Neither do I," she murmured, still meeting his gaze, heart pounding as her body instinctively responded to his primal need. The elevator beeped discreetly, and the doors slid open to her penthouse apartment. "So let's not waste any more time talking, then," she whispered, and took his hand to lead him into the privacy of her home.

Pete opened the door to their room quietly, not wanting to wake Kitty. Creeping into the room, he promptly tripped over one of a pair of her shoes left right in the middle of the floor, provoking a spate of drunken cursing.

"Pete?" She sat up, her small body dwarfed by the huge bed. Rubbing her eyes, she stumbled out of the thick covers and launched herself into his arms.

"Pryde? I'm sorry, I didn't mean t' wake you..." He held her close to him, wincing a bit at her uncomfortably tight hug. "You all right, love? How'd th' talk go?"

Tipping her head back, she smiled shakily, and he could see the lines of distress that sleep hadn't quelled. "Yeah, I'm fine, Pete. It went fine," she lied "I'm just glad you're back. Let's go to bed."

Eyes narrowing, he almost probed her for more details, but with great effort forced himself to respect her privacy. 'She'll tell me when she's ready.' "Whatever you say," he reluctantly agreed, 'Fer now.' After quickly stripping down to his technicolor striped boxers, he joined her in the huge bed, holding her warm body close to him as they both drifted off to sleep.

"You're going to wear a hole in that carpet if you don't quit pacing." From where he sat on the largest couch, Nathan shifted his gaze to where she tread back and forth along the far wall, wishing not for the first time that they hadn't tacitly agreed to dampen their psilink for the duration of this conversation. The expression on her face was unreadable. He motioned hesitantly "C'mere. Come sit down- try to relax. You're making me nervous."

Domino turned away from the window, which was now rendered opaque by the condensation from the cold night air. 'What the hell was I thinking?' she wondered frantically. Now that she'd gotten him here, she didn't have the faintest idea of where to start, or even really what she wanted to say. 'I don't need to do this- neither one of us needs this kind of shit right now.' Nevertheless, she warily joined him, settling into the opposite corner of the couch. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it quickly, desperately wishing the butterflies in her stomach would go away. 'Coward,' she cursed herself, refusing to meet his now openly curious gaze.

The moments ticked on "Absolutely scintillating conversation we're having here, Nate- it's a regular Algonquin round table tonight," she said dryly, trying to mask her discomfiture.

"You were the one who wanted to talk, Dom," he reminded her gently. 'Don't push, Nathan,' he ordered himself, despite his eagerness to hear what she had to say. 'She'll just run if you do.'

"Yeah," she inclined her head at him, conceding "I guess I did." They sat there like that several long minutes more, the silence hanging heavily between them, awkward and almost tangible. Finally, she cursed under her breath and rose stiffly, still more than a little drunk. She stared at him a moment, an unreadable expression on her face, then muttered in a disgusted tone "Ah, the hell with it. This was a stupid idea, Nate. I'm goin' to bed."

"Dammit, Dom, don't do this!" he yelled at her retreating form, frustration finally bursting through his veneer of self-control. "Don't push me away again!"

"Me push you away, Nathan? You're a hell of a one to talk!" she snarled, almost relieved to be able to lapse back into their familiar pattern of fighting. Shocked at the revelation, she took an involuntary step back, shaking her head, taunting herself 'Are you so scared that you can't even bring yourself to talk about it?' Jaw tightening, she thought 'I saw what's going to happen- what do I have to lose?' Turning away from him, the earlier courage she'd felt flared back into existence, and she whispered in a small, determined voice "No. I'm not going to do this to us tonight."

Anger vanishing as quickly as it came, Cable, still woozy, hoisted himself out of the soft cushions of the sofa and walked over to where she stood. Facing her back, his hand hovered over her slumped shoulder for a second, then lowered to rest lightly on her neck. Slipping his hands underneath the thick sheet of raven black hair, he massaged her neck and shoulders lightly, fingers skilfully kneading tense muscles. "Do what, Dom? Don't worry about it. It's all right- whatever it is you wanted to talk to me about can wait." His deep voice was soothing, soft, and for a moment she closed her eyes and let herself be lulled by it, rolling her shoulders in unconscious response to his gentle touch, the alcohol still softening the edges of her perception. "Whatever this is, it doesn't really matter, anyway."

"You're wrong, Nate. It matters," Raising a hand to his arm, she clasped his wrist and reluctantly pulled it away from her neck. She sighed, a heavy, pained sound, then nodded, more to herself than to him. Leading him back to the sofa, they sat down side by side, Nathan granting her as much time as she needed to gather her thoughts. Hands clasped tightly in her lap, she sat there quietly a few moments more, then looked up to meet his confused gaze.

"This isn't easy for me, Nathan."

Wanting to pull her closer to him, to relieve whatever fears she was so obviously battling, Cable merely nodded. "I know," he whispered, not quite able to completely hide the puzzlement in his voice. 'Just what are you getting at? What's all this about?'

She swallowed 'This is it. Either you do it or you don't.' Suddenly consumed with contempt for both of them for letting it get this far, and feeling once more her earlier edge, she plunged on "We've danced around it for a while, but you never really explained to me what happened after Israel."

"Dom," he began slowly, stalling for time, not knowing quite what she was asking. "You know as well as I do how crazy things got after that- with the team not having a place to stay, with the news about Legacy leaking, with Blaquesmith back -"

She interrupted him tiredly "Let's please not talk about him, all right? What I've got to say is hard enough without gettin' alligator-boy into it. You know damn well how I feel about him." As usual, she felt a familiar, involuntary buzzing in the back of her mind at the thought of Nathan's former mentor. 'It's like - every time I even think too hard about him, part of my mind skitters away. There's something hanging there, just there at the edge of my memories, and I can't get to it. Annoying as hell.'

Pushing aside those thoughts, surprised he wasn't even making an effort to defend his old teacher, she continued "Anyway, you're not answering my question. What happened to you after Israel?" Her voice was very calm, and she marvelled a bit at the measure of control she exercised over it.

"What do you mean?" 'Oh, shit,' he thought wildly 'here we go.'

"I mean," her voice rose slightly "I mean, just what the hell happened with us?" Knowing if she weren't still drunk, if she hadn't had the impetus of seeing through Betsy's vision what tomorrow would bring, she'd never have the courage to ask him this, she demanded "What made you change your mind about us?"

"What?" His brow furrowed, and he sat up straighter. "Just what are you talking about?"

"Dammit, Nate, quit the ignoramus routine! It doesn't suit you!" Biting her lip, she continued haltingly "I thought- after Israel, when you finally told me, I thought that we- that you and I - that -" She paused, feeling her face color. "Anyway," she didn't finish, glancing quickly at him to gauge his response "I'd just like to know why."

"Why now?" he swallowed, feeling his heart catch in his throat at her words. "Why is it so important that we talk about this now?"

Holding her tongue against the torrent of outrage she felt at his seemingly blasé response, she stood, eyes snapping purple fire. "I just thought that since we know how tomorrow's gonna end, if this is the last chance I have to talk about this, I'd like to throw caution to the wind and talk about this, but if you don't want to do that, then, Nate, just don't you friggin' worry about it. Sorry I inconvenienced you."

Nathan's face darkened and, furious, he rose from the couch in one fluid motion to loom over her. "Don't you ever say that!" he hissed, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her much smaller frame. "Tomorrow is not our last chance- I don't want to hear that defeatist shit from you, not ever!"

Looking up at him, eyes narrowed, she saluted sharply "Yes, Sir, Mister Cable Sir, I wouldn't want to disrupt your plans. If you don't want to discuss it, it's a matter of supreme indifference to me." Raising her chin in a haughty expression, she stared coldly at him, and jerked her arms to free herself.

Not releasing his grip on her, Cable leaned forward, pulling her closer to him, asking impatiently "Just go ahead and ask me, Domino! Quit playing around and just ask, and I'll tell you what I know!"

"Oh, yeah, you have all the answers, don't you?" she spat, angry enough now to finally speak the truth "Well, tell me this- why did you stop caring for me, assuming you ever did in the first place, or was all that just a by-product of my imagination? I think I deserve to know that much, at least."

His face jerked back as if she'd slapped him. Releasing her slowly, he stepped away and, when she glared up at him, he looked stunned. "Oath, woman, why in the world would you think I stopped caring about you?"

Rubbing her shoulders, she stared at him coolly, but he could see the edge of hurt still in her eyes. "If you didn't, you have a hell of a way of showing it. One day, everything's fine, the next, you're back as distant as you were during the Bad Time, without five minutes to spare for me or the team." Ignoring his shudder at her mention of that particularly painful time in his life, she crossed her arms defensively over her chest and continued blasting him. "You weren't training with the kids as much. You weren't asking me to go on missions with you anymore- you found other company for that, and for other things, too, or need I remind you that the evidence of that is just down the hall?" She jerked her head in the direction of Storm's suite.

Unable to deny anything she'd said, he sputtered "I.. don't know what you mean."

"Bullshit, Nate!" She flung her hand out at him, thumping him hard in the chest. "Don't try that with me! *What happened*? Just what happened to make you do such an about-face?"

Her violet gaze piercing into his soul, he was unable to hide it anymore, and the anguished words spewed out before he could reign them in. "What do you want me to tell you, Dom?" His hands jerked convulsively, and he spun so she couldn't see the naked pain on his face. "Do you want me to say that I finally realized what you meant to me? Do you want me to tell you that seeing Jenskot again made me realize just how much it hurt to lose someone like that, and that I just didn't think I could bear it if the same thing happened with you? That I thought I could handle it, but the more things went on, the more you wouldn't let me protect you, the more I found myself wanting to, knowing the whole time you'd never put up with that? Do you want to know how much it scared the shit out of me? Is that what you want?" Breathing heavily, he turned to face her, feeling completely exposed.

She stopped short, and a slim hand fluttered to her throat. "Nathan, you chauvinistic, egotistical, completely self-centered idiot," she whispered softly, eyes wide with emotion "That's exactly what I wanted to hear."


Part 45

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear." Domino heard herself whisper, stunned into truthfulness by this unexpected admission of his feelings for her. Staring at him stupidly, her jaw hung slightly agape, and for the first time in her life she was speechless. Walking back to the couch, she leaned against its arm, composing her thoughts, then stood to pace around the room, eventually finding herself back at his side.

Cable didn't move, didn't speak, barely dared to breathe. His eyes trained on hers, hope that he'd barely admitted to even himself shining brightly from their gray-blue depths. The vehemence of his outburst, the depth of feeling in the strained admission had triggered their psilink, which now flared brighter and stronger than ever before.

Unable to resist its pull, the drinks and the emotional high allowing him to ignore his fears, he took a deep breath and consciously reached out to her. Not pushing or invading the privacy he knew she cherished, he simply opened his mind completely, merging both his soul and his thoughts with hers in a gentle, intimate caress far deeper than a mere psilink, an intimate emotional bonding that demanded nothing and accepted all.

Surprised at the intensity of the bond, he exulted in it, amazed that he could still share so much of his soul with another person. He'd never dreamed he'd ever feel this way again. 'I thought this part of me died with Aliya, but no, it's just as strong as ever...' he breathed, perilously close to tears.

Eyes widening at the contact, he marvelled at the strength and complexity of this woman who'd been by his side for so long, this kindred spirit who'd shared so much of his life. 'You called, I came,' she'd told him so many times, and until now he'd never fully realized what that meant. 'I've been such a fool.'

Domino, eyes welling with unshed tears, gasped as the soft barrage of light coursed through her, suffusing her with a sparkling golden glow. The incandescence was tinged with his own doubts and failures, true, but it still seeped through her to her very core, spreading warmth and healing throughout her battered psyche. Walls she'd spent all of her adult life and longer building, mocking barriers that kept her innermost self locked tightly away from those who had hurt her slowly began to crumble, dissipate, and she felt the shadows hidden deep within her slink back from the presence of this unprecedented unconditional love and acceptance.

'All the things I've done - had to do to survive over the years - he'll see them,' she thought frantically, irrationally certain that he'd truly see for the first time the darkness within her and be repelled by it. 'He knows me better than anyone- he's been in my mind during the dark times- but what if he... He's been hurt so badly, too, and I don't know if I can risk...' She wrapped her arms defensively around her chest, tormented by self-doubts and recriminations that clouded her thoughts, blocked access to the luminous glow. 'Can I do it? Can I show him?' Panic-stricken, she turned her face away and closed her eyes tightly, completely and utterly torn between the safety of hiding behind her long-cultivated walls and the exhilarating redemption of the sharing he offered.

Misinterpreting her gesture as rejection, Cable's entire body slumped, and the shimmering light faded and flickered out as he quickly withdrew from their union, and the separation tore his heart out of his chest. 'Idiot,' he cursed himself flatly, instantly assuming a look of stony indifference to hide the cringing embarrassment he felt at having displayed his feelings so openly only to be met with such a harsh denial. 'She's drunk, and worried about tomorrow, that's the only reason she said those things. She didn't mean them, she couldn't, you should have known better than to think she did...'

Domino took an involuntary step back, shocked at the abrupt severing of the link. As the light dimmed within her, the wounded shadows of her past rose again, Stygian tendrils of doubt and guilt snaking up and down the corners of her mind to hiss 'See? He saw what you are and it disgusted him. How could you let him in? You know better than that. It's better to be here, safe and alone, where no one can hurt you...' She shuddered at the familiar taunts of her own personal demons, so much louder now for the absence of the light.

Engulfed by the darkness, so black compared to the sparkling brightness of his touch, she was suddenly struck dumb by how very, very alone she was here in her private shell. Independent, yes, self-reliant, yes, she'd always prided herself on these qualities, but this- this aching emptiness that was devoid of any human touch or need- this tomb-like solitude she'd locked herself into absolutely terrified her. Not knowing whether it was to him or to the faded goodness in herself she was calling out to, she clutched blindly at the last vestiges of the fading light and cried "NO! DON'T GO!"

Nathan's breath caught in his throat, and hope flared against the hurt resignation. "What did you say?" he barked, sharp words coming out in a low, dangerous growl. "Don't play with me, Dom..."

'Oh, Nathan,' she cried out, instinctively responding to the loneliness and yearning inside herself by taking a half-step towards him, reaching up to gently push back an errant lock of silver hair that fell over his forehead. Not trusting herself to speak, she just placed shaking hands on his cheeks, staring up at him, a hunger in her haunted eyes that matched his own. 'I'm not playing. Please don't go.'

He took one hand in his, closing his eyes in relief and a strange nervous anticipation at her words. Feeling his body respond to her nearness, wanting nothing more than to engulf her in his arms, he opened his mouth to speak but she shook her head to halt him.

With her free hand, she held a single finger to his lips, hushing him with a soft "Shhhh...." The alcohol and the emotion, the unexpected communion of souls, had touched her so deeply it had actually begun to heal wounds so deeply ingrained that they'd almost become a part of her. She felt curiously free, and blinking back rare tears, squared her shoulder. 'Enough time wasted.'

Rising on her tiptoes, she murmured "Nathan. Just shut up and kiss me."

Flinging a slim arm around his neck, she pulled him down to meet her, and their lips met in a long, searching kiss, full of passion and resonating with a lifetime's worth of unspoken emotion. He draped an arm around her shoulders, dipping it to rest lightly in the curve of her back for just a moment before pulling her tightly to him. His body tensed in an involuntary shudder at the incredulous thrill of her body pressed tightly to his, and he shook his head in disbelief when she mirrored his movements.

The bond blossomed again, flooding their senses with shared need, magnifying long suppressed longings into an all-consuming, rapturous desire. Eyes closed tightly, they clung to each other, hungry lips desperately exploring the contours of the others mouth, face, and neck, oblivious to anything and everything except the comfort and release they'd finally found in each other's arms. Hesitant hands explored familiar bodies, seen and nursed through countless battles, now offered up together in a dance old as mankind. They moved slowly at first, then growing bolder, more urgent, all the frustration and pain they'd suffered together and the years of denying their feelings channelling themselves into this single achingly passionate moment.

'I can't believe this is happening, after all this time, this is finally happening...' he thought, revelling in this gloriously unexpected turn of events, but conscious thought was soon lost to the jolts of liquid sensation left in the wake of her touch. Burying his face in the crook of her pale neck, sensing gooseflesh rising underneath his mouth, he nuzzled the delicate flesh, trailing down to kiss the hollow of her throat, her shoulders, dizzy with desire as his lips slid down her smooth flesh to lightly graze the tops of her breasts. She arched her back in response, moaning low in her throat, and slowly lowered her hands to slide them easily under the tight waistband of his jeans. He sucked in his breath as her fingers skimmed the straining muscles underneath, groaning at the feel of warm fingers on his skin.

Breathing heavily, he reluctantly pulled himself away from her, his body screaming in protest. "Dom..." Voice husky with desire, he warned "I don't think I'll be able to stop if we don't quit now..."

"Who said anything about stopping?" She answered in a low, amused tone, her pale skin flushed with exertion, and their bond resonated with her arousal, easily echoed by his own. 'I want this as much as you do,' she caught his hand, squeezing it, her eyes never leaving his. His breath caught in his throat as he realized what she was saying.

'Are you sure?' he asked, and his voice in her mind was so soft, so uncertain that at first she thought she'd imagined it. 'There's no need to rush this...'

She halted, realizing the truth of what he said, knowing there was no turning back from the decision she had to make. Staring straight at the cage of forced isolation she'd locked herself into for so long, she swallowed tightly and made the hardest decision of her life- she turned to the light.

Feeling the shadows and fears uneasily subside within her, for the moment at least, she smiled a bit sadly. "Eighteen years together is hardly 'rushing' things, Nathan," she reminded him. 'And yes, I'm sure.'

Sensing his emotions, she shared the commingled sense of overwhelming relief and regret as he berated himself for all the time lost. 'If I hadn't been so damn stupid, holding myself back when I've known damn well for years just how much you mea-'

'Na-uh,' she cut him off with an admonishing look. 'Enough of that. You're not the only one who was too chicken shit, but we've got better things to do tonight.'

Not willing to spend another moment on the past, she smiled wickedly. Customary cockiness returning to her tone, she drawled "That is, if you think you're..."She arched an elegant eyebrow, eyes sweeping downward in a pointed glance. "Up to it."

A long, slow smile spread across his features, and he laughed, a low, delighted rumbling that echoed deep in his chest. Pulling her closer to him again, he cupped her chin in one hand and bent his head close to hers to whisper, eyes twinkling in the dim light "Ask me that again in the morning."

Much later, with both of them unclothed, she dozed fitfully in his arms. He lay awake, afraid to fall asleep, certain he'd wake to find this had been just another dream. Running his fingers through her tousled dark hair, now slightly matted with perspiration, he kissed the top of her head softly. Bare limbs intertwined in the twisted sheets, they lay together in peace, the bond between them humming contentedly in the aftermath of love.

She stirred, and he shifted slightly to allow her room to nestle closer to him. Watching her sleep, he felt a deep, protective surge of emotion, and was struck by a disturbing thought. 'What if this is a one-night thing for her? What if everything goes back to the way it's been before?' Horrified at the idea, unable to wait until she woke, he touched her arm gently. "Dom?"

"Hmmm?" She opened one eye sleepily, fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest, awash in post-coital bliss. "Yeah, Nate?"

He swallowed, running a silver hand along the curve of her shoulder, shards of ice lodged in his heart at the thought of losing this newfound intimacy. "Please don't leave me," he choked, his deep voice curiously shy.

"Oh, Nate," she murmured, propping herself up on one elbow, dark hair spilling onto his chest. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she stroked his cheek with the back of her hand, shocked at how easily the words came and even more so at how much she meant them. "I'm not going anywhere, you idiot. You ought to know better than that by now. This changes everything." Raising bare arms high above her head, she stretched luxuriously, and the easy sensuality of her movements made him swallow, hard. She noticed, and smiled.

She leaned back against the sea of pillows, pushing a handful of dark hair out of her face as she wondered how to let him know that this wouldn't- couldn't- affect their professional relationship, no matter how much it had touched them personally. Nathan grinned, immensely relieved by her reassurances and amused by the thought. "'Course, this doesn't mean the world has to know about it. If anyone knew a hard-hearted mercenary like you actually had feelings for anybody, it'd ruin your reputation, right?"

She nodded, feeling distinctly ill at ease discussing this, afraid he'd misunderstand her concerns. "Nate, that doesn't mean that I don't- hell, I do- you know, after tonight, how I've felt for so long, but- we can't behave like this in public, you know that, right?"

He actually laughed aloud, and she blew an exasperated stream of air through her lips. "Go on, act like it's funny, but I've worked damn hard to be considered a professional in my own right, and not just an extension of somebody else, even you. This can't change that."

He tensed, afraid that she *was* telling him that she didn't want this new aspect of their relationship after all. "Dom, what are you telling me here?" His voice was calm and steady, but underneath it the old insecurities poised, ready to rush back and reclaim this tenuous peace he'd found in her arms.

She lightly touched his arm, alleviating his fears. "No, you idiot, I'm not telling you I don't want this." She paused, and in her eyes he saw a glimpse of the same vulnerability he was trying his best to hide in his own. "I do," she whispered softly, and he relaxed. "I just need to make sure that you know - this, tonight-" She gestured at the bed "This is ours, Nate. This is private. I'm not ashamed of it, not in the least," her chin jutted out proudly "But this is a separate world from work. I wouldn't trade this for anything, anything at all," He felt his heart swell at the soft smile on her face, then blinked at her abrupt "But it doesn't change our professional relationship at all. If we're gonna be together like this, you need to understand that I don't want you making any stupid chauvinistic bonehead moves to try to 'protect' me from anything. I'm still your partner and I can take care of myself on the field. I don't want you treating me differently from anybody else. Got it?" Her voice rose slightly, and she stared at him intently, anxious that he understand this.

He sighed, knowing how much respect meant to her, knowing she was absolutely right- he couldn't allow his personal feelings to change the way he viewed their professional relationship, and he sure as hell couldn't treat her differently in front of others.

Neither could she. Their privacy meant too much to the both of them for that. "Understood," he nodded a bit too sharply, hoping he could live up to the promise.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, broken a few moments later by her quiet voice, hesitant but surprisingly strong. "Now that that's settled, are *you* going to leave me?"

His eyes narrowed. "Oath, no! I may still have to keep things private from you, but there's no way I could leave you, woman!" He sounded shocked, and immensely disturbed at the prospect. 'Now, there's still things I was sent here to do that I can't tell anyone about, things I don't have any choice in...' he mused, and was surprised at the vehemence of her response through their link as she heard what he had considered to be a private thought.

"The hell you say!" She sat up straighter, pulling the sheet around her indignantly. "That's bullshit! I understand having to do things on your own, and I'm not asking you to tell me all your secrets, but you always have a choice!" Expression softening, she struggled to find the words to express her anger at the helplessness she sensed emanating from him. "Dammit, Nathan, you're not just the 'Chosen One', you're not just somebody's tool. You're a man, too, and you have free will. I wish you'd use it sometimes,' she finished, an affectionate, worried smile taking the sting out of her harsh words.

Defusing the potential argument before it had the chance to really get started, he chuckled, running a silver finger lightly down her side. "Nagging already?" he teased, and she shivered at the pleasurable sensation of cool metal against her warm skin.

Noticing her reaction, he stopped, jerking his hand away self-consciously. "I'm sorry, Dom," he stammered "It happened so fast before, I didn't think how strange my arm must feel to you -" Blushing furiously, he began shifting his techno-organics, pulling peach-colored synth-skin over his metallic arm. Here, in this most intimate of settings, he'd actually allowed himself to forget that he wasn't just any other man and she any other woman, alone in the night. He looked away from her, embarrassed by this reminder that no matter how hard he fought against it, part of him was still metal, not blood, and always would be.

A dark look clouded her face, and she cursed under her breath, grabbing the thick wrist angrily with one hand. "If you don't stop that right now, I'm gonna shove this somewhere very unpleasant," she warned, letting his arm drop to the bed. 'I want you as yourself, Nate, just as you are,' she chided, and her voice in his thoughts sounded slightly hurt that he'd thought he still had to hide himself from her after all they'd shared that night.

He didn't trust himself to speak, but he slowly shifted his arm back to its normal state. Nodding in satisfaction, she drew closer to him again. Settling herself in the crook of his arm, she turned on her side, his arm draped around her, palm lying flat against her stomach as he turned with her, the argument forgotten in the quiet of the night.

A few moments passed, and she started, remembering something she'd meant to tell him. Through the impending haze of dreams, she asked "Do you remember what I told you when I left the last time, after that Gryaznova bitch got a hold of me?'

"You mean, when I asked you why you were pushing me away?" He smiled wryly through a jaw-cracking yawn, and turning her head slightly, she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Yes, you impudent bastard, then," she returned his yawn. "I told you that I wished we were two ordinary people with ordinary problems-"

"Good luck," he muttered sotto voce, holding her close to him, savoring the feel of her body pressed tightly against his.

Her eyebrows rose to her hairline "Funny you should phrase it that way," she murmured softly. "Anyway, that's kinda what I wanted t' tell you," she managed, words growing progressively softer and less distinct.

He tilted his head curiously, noticing the first ray of sunrise through the foggy window. "Tell me what?" he asked, running his hands reverently along her bare back as sleep struggled to reclaim them both.

"You an' me. Being ordinary people," her eyes closed, and she switched to psi-speak. 'I know we're forced into extraordinary circumstances, but Nathan, tonight here with you, I don't feel like a soldier, or a mercenary, or even a mutant,' she closed her eyes, 'Tomorrow I'll be all of those things, and more, but tonight, I just feel like a woman.' With the last of her energy, she whispered "Just wanted you to know that."

He swallowed tightly, knowing how much such honesty had cost her, and promised himself they would never regret the decision they'd made tonight in this London room. Thanking God that He'd given him another chance at such happiness, he held Domino close to him in the dawn of that new day and promptly fell asleep, untroubled by dreams or fears of what the future would hold.


Part 46

Logan peeled back the plum silk jacquard comforter, careful not to wake Betsy. Slipping out of the bed, he padded soundlessly across the room, scooping up his tangled clothing off the floor where it had been hastily discarded the night before.

Buttoning up the now-torn flannel shirt, he smiled at the vivid memory of how it got that way. 'Ah, Betts,' he glanced affectionately at the figure still curled up on the bed. 'What th' hell are we gonna do now?' Their couplings had been primal, passionate, the illicit nature of the union heightening the already formidable chemistry between them into a fever pitch. He barely remembered pausing long enough beforehand to ask whether protection was necessary - though Hank's regular medical checkups (and his own healing factor) ensured that disease wasn't an issue for either of them, they still had to take precautions against any other unexpected result. She'd assured him it wasn't, that she had taken care of it, and the rest of the night spun through his memory in an erotic blur.

The analytical part of his mind couldn't help but consider after so many years of friendship why this had happened between them now. 'With all th' tension in th' air between Neena and Nate, with both of our senses so primed for battle, it's no wonder we reacted the way we did,' He shook his head tightly, eyes narrowed 'An' with what Betts is goin' through with Warren, it's just natural she'd turn to somebody else for a little bit of comfort. An me...' he brushed past his own suppressed longings, trying not to dwell too long on thoughts of the frustrated love he could never have, the woman who belonged to another. 'Let's just say I've been known to act on instinct sometimes, too,' he sighed, fighting against the familiar melancholy settling deep in his chest, feeling vaguely guilty he was still thinking of her after such an incredible night in Elisabeth's bed.

Tired of rationalizing his behavior, even to himself, he pushed those thoughts away. 'I don't know if this was the smartest thing I've ever done- 's gonna make things tricky when we get back t' the mansion- but I can't say I'm sorry. Betsy's a hell of a woman.'

In the huge bed, Betsy stirred, face hidden under a sheet of aubergine hair. Yawning, she sat up and favored him with a sleepy smile. "Good morning, Logan."

"G'mornin', darlin'. You have a good night?" He grinned, chestnut eyes twinkling merrily at her.

"I might ask you the same thing," she winced slightly as she sat up, her body stiff from the night's exertions. 'Healing factor indeed!'

He paused awkwardly, then asked with characteristic forthrightness "Uh...Betts, darlin'...What're we gonna do now?" Lifting a shaggy eyebrow in an inquiring cant, he waited for her answer.

She shook her head tightly, a small frown marring her perfect features. "I don't know, Logan. I truly do not know." She couldn't deny the attraction between them, couldn't deny the warmth she felt for this man, but at the same time knew that the love she felt for Warren still existed, battered and worn as it was.

He saw the dismay and indecision written all over her face, and his craggy features winced in sympathy. Walking to the bedside, he crouched beside her, taking her hand. Staring directly into her eyes, he asked quietly "No regrets?"

"None," she answered firmly, squeezing it in return. "None at all." She met his gaze, silently apologizing that she could promise nothing more than that right now, hoping he understood that this wasn't a rejection, she simply needed more time to consider her options.

He nodded in understanding. "Take all th' time y' need, darlin'." 'An' I will, too. Neither one of us needs t' rush into anything, an' we've both got lots t' think about.'

"Now then," he smiled warmly, standing up. "Now that we got that straight, I'm gonna go in there an' call Cable, tell him we went out for brunch, an' we'll meet 'em at two, just like we planned." She nodded at this subtle indication that he would keep their liaison discreet, relieved she could postpone this decision a bit longer.

Ororo closed the door to the suite behind her with a quick gust of wind, the force rattling the sturdy frame a bit more than it should have. Dropping a bag of souvenirs on one of the couches, she walked over to the other woman's door. Ororo has risen with the dawn, as was her custom, but she knew her friend enjoyed sleeping in. She hadn't woken her.

"'Elisabeth, I am back,'" she sent mildly, projecting the words telepathically into the other bedroom as well 'I have done about as much sightseeing this morning as I care to do. Please get up.' She stood there several moments, waiting for an answer that did not come.

Sighing, Ororo opened the door to find the room exactly as it had been yesterday- clothing and luggage strewn across a bed that had not been slept in, corner light still on. Ororo brought an elegant hand to her forehead, rubbing her temple against the slight headache already forming, hoping her suspicions about where Betsy was would prove unfounded. 'Ah, no... surely the both of you know better...'

Spinning on her heel, she left the suite, barely sparing a moment to grab her keys first. She strode down the corridor to Logan's suite, knuckles rapping a quick staccato beat on the door. "Logan!" Her voice rose slightly, though she knew his enhanced senses would hear her even at a whisper. "Let me in!" She waited for him, for either of them, but there was no answer. The thought occurred to her then that the locks of the room, however enhanced they might be, would be no true obstacle to a thief of her calibre if she really wanted to get in. She weighed the idea, then decided against it with a rueful shake of her head. The last thing she needed, with this group of mercenaries and spies, was to be discovered practising her former trade.

She paused, considering her alternatives. Sneering at the distasteful idea of going to either of the remaining suites, Ororo shrugged and walked toward the hotel's pleasant little courtyard, hoping to immerse herself in whatever bit of nature had somehow managed to survive in this polluted city while she waited for the appointed meeting time to come.

Domino walked through the steamy bathroom, feeling invigorated and relaxed by the lengthy hot shower. Wrapping herself in the robe provided by the hotel, she twisting the water out of her long dark hair and towelled it dry, performing other morning ablutions, flicking the light off when she was done. Turning to go back into the bedroom, she paused in the doorway, watching him sleep, a soft smile playing on her lips as she remembered the night before.

He lay sprawled across the bed, arm thrown across the pillow where she'd lain, holding it close to him. His lips were parted in a hoarse snore, but there was a peace about him, an easiness in sleep that made him appear almost a young man again. The hard-worn lines etched across his face by the years of more troubles and responsibilities than any one human should have to bear had softened, and now for the first time in her memory he looked completely at peace. Her heart broke at the idea of how short-lived it might be.

'Oh, Nate,' she thought, not quite knowing how to manage this unfamiliar tenderness, working through her still formidable doubts and self-loathing. 'Did I do this? After all you've gone through, how in the hell can I- can anybody- mean this much to you?' She stood silently in the doorway, unwilling to wake him and break this spell of peace. 'Oh, God, don't let me do anything to ruin this. Don't let me hurt him like I've hurt everyone else who's ever gotten close to me,' she prayed earnestly, seeking reassurance that this, her worst fear, wouldn't come to pass.

Drawing on her training, she moved soundlessly across the room to lie down beside him, and smiled under her breath when he grunted and rolled over on his side to hold her tight against him. Still uneasy at letting her guard so completely down, even for him, she fretted 'What if this was a mistake? What if this completely ruins our relationship?'

'Oh, quit that,' the bond between them glowed golden as even through the haze of sleep he sensed her prickly fears. 'Let's please not even play this awkward morning after game- you and I both know what last night meant. An' we've both waited long enough for it...'

"Old habits die hard, Nate," she reminded him softly, closing her eyes at the welcome warmth of his body along her back. "It feels funny." And indeed it did, the unfettered feeling of not having to guard her every thought and emotion from him was as unnerving as it was exhilarating. 'For us I'll try, Nate. I can't promise, but I'll try...'

He blinked sleepily, shifting to allow her to burrow back under the warmth of the covers with him. "Agh, you're wet," he mock-complained, whispering into her damp hair.

"Your powers of observation continue to amaze me," she answered wryly.

He lifted his hand to gently touch her face. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, amazed at this dream come to life, still unable to believe that after all these years this had become a reality for them.

She swallowed tightly, not knowing quite how to deal with this new intimacy. "If you like ageing albino mercenaries, maybe," she joked, averting her eyes, still not wanting him to completely see the depth of emotion, the power his words had over her.

Noticing her reaction, knowing how skittish she still was, Nathan backed off. "Bet you used all the hot water," he groused, switching to a more neutral topic. "See what I get for letting you go first..."

Arching an eyebrow, she lifted her chin and rolled over to face him. "Letting me go first? I don't think so, buddy. You snooze, you lose, and you were certainly snoozin' when I woke up."

"You tired me out," he grinned, and was rewarded by a faint flush on her cheeks.

She recovered quickly. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I forgot that men your age need a little... extra," she dimpled sweetly, a playful light in her eyes.

"I'll show you old, woman," he growled good-naturedly, relishing the intimate banter, knowing that once they left this room they'd have to don their public facades, once more become the hardened soldiers the world thought them to be. For these few brief moments, though, he could forget that harsh reality and concentrate on simply holding her close, teasing and loving as the mid-morning sun covered them with a warm blanket of light.

Kitty sipped her juice slowly, trying not to look as Pete ravenously devoured a heaping plate of greasy pork chops and fries, motioning the server of the restaurant for more when his fork scraped the bottom of the plate. 'I'll never understand it,' she thought wryly, delicately nibbling a bite of salad. 'If I ate like that, I'd weigh 900 pounds.'

When she dabbed lightly at a spot of gravy on his skinny black tie, Pete grinned up at her. "Enjoyin' yer lunch, love?"

"Not half as much as you are," she smiled fondly at him, keeping an eye on her watch. "What time were we supposed to meet everyone?"

"Ah, we got a few more minutes." A few moments later, Pete glanced up at her and asked softly "You ready t' talk about last night yet?" He'd known her long enough to read her body language, recognize the slight tensing of her shoulders, the subtle set of her jaw. 'I thought so,' his eyes narrowed. 'Somethin' did happen w' 'er an' th' weather witch.'

Kitty shook her head. "Pete- we hadn't seen each other in a long time, we had a lot to catch up on."

He took a long swallow of his tea. "Is that all?"

Rubbing the back of her hand across her eyes, Kitty answered tiredly "No. No, it's not." Knowing she expected complete honesty from him, knowing he deserved no less, she flatly told him of Ororo's concerns and her response to them, her eyes brimming with compassion as she saw how her words affected him.

When she finished, he was silent, his skin even paler than usual. "That all she said?" he rasped, resentment at Ororo's intrusion warring against his shame and embarrassment as the darkness in his past. 'I don't give a shit what that bitch thinks, but if she's upset Kitty, I'll rip 'er throat out.'

Kitty nodded, swallowing tightly. "Pete, you've got to understand that she just thinks she's protecting me. She didn't mean anything by it - she's just looking out for what she thinks is my best interest."

"Yeah," Pete pushed away his plate, appetite suddenly vanished. "I figgered somethin' like that. What do you think?" He studied her intently, watching her expressive face for any sign of disgust or revulsion at this blunt reminder of his ugly past, not knowing what he'd do if he found it.

She met his gaze squarely. "What I think, Pete Wisdom, is that your past doesn't matter, just like mine doesn't. We're a team, bub, and that means we accept each other just like we are. Anytime that changes, I'll let you know."

Smiling shakily, he caught her hand under the table. "I love you, Pryde," he whispered, and she bit her lip at the rare public endearment.

"I know," she answered softly, and they finished their meal together in peace.

Ororo rose to greet Logan and Betsy as they entered the lobby to the hotel. "Where have you been?" she demanded, long legs taking her to them in several quick strides. "It is almost two." She smoothed the dark hair of her wig, giving them a baleful stare.

Her teammates exchanged a glance. Betsy, skimming the surface of Ororo's thoughts, gleaned enough information to side-step the question. "We had brunch at one of my favorite restaurants, Ororo. I would have asked you to come along with us, but you weren't in your room. How did your evening with Kitty go?" Betsy smiled disarmingly, adroitly changing the subject, taking off her sunglasses inside but leaving on the patterned silk scarf that disguised her unusual hair.

Ororo raised a slanted eyebrow, not quite believing the pat explanation but willing to let it slide for now. She sighed "Well enough, I suppose." 'Despite what the child says, our discussion is far from over,' she thought darkly, still not completely convinced of the beneficence of Kitty's paramour. 'We shall see.'

As they climbed the staircase, Ororo's lips thinned humorlessly. "Have we be given any more details about this... outing?" She couched her meaning in innocent terms, nodding politely at a passing elderly gentleman.

Logan nodded in approval. "I think th' tour guide's gonna give us all the information we need next."

"Very well," she acknowledged, and lapsed into silence as they turned down the hall and back towards their rooms to pack and change.

Cable's enhanced hearing caught the sound of footsteps outside the door first. "They're here," he informed her softly, watching her expression instantly harden.

She pulled her hand away from his regretfully, allowing her fingertips to linger for a second before she slipped her hand back into her pocket of the loose pantsuit she wore over her customary black and purple body-armor, minus her customary armament, of course. "Then you'd better let them in," she whispered, the look in her eyes reassuring him even as her features settled into an impassive, impenetrable mask. 'This doesn't change us, Nate. You know that.'

'I know,' he spared her a last soft mental caress before he dimmed their link, consciously slipping back into a colder, more professional mode. Stepping around the luggage he and Dom had piled by the wall, he opened the door to greet the first arrivals roughly. "Glad to see you could make it."

"Damn glad to be here," Pete riposted sharply, holding the door open for Kitty. "We've already checked out, so whenever you're ready..." With a loud thud, he dropped their bulging bags beside the others. "Damn, Pryde. Think y'd packed th' whole friggin' island with y'," he grumbled under his breath. Kitty cheerfully grinned at him.

"Where's everyone else?" she asked, joining him on the long sofa, glancing at Domino curiously. The older woman had sat down cross-legged on the floor in front of the large television, the remote control balanced lightly on one knee. She was gazing at the picture on the screen, a smug smile on her face at the undulating patterns on the screen.

Cable shrugged. "On their way, I suppose. It's not two yet." Walking over to sit in the corner chair, he'd barely had time to sit when he heard the knock at the door. This time, he didn't bother to stand, merely twisted the knob with a flicker of his telekinesis and opened the door.

Still wearing her disguise, Ororo walked in, a pinched look on her face as she surveyed the room's inhabitants. Kitty looked up at her sharply, then forcibly reminded herself to smile and greet the other woman, remembering her decision to leave the night's discussion behind. "Hey, Ororo."

"Hello, Kitten, all," her eyes swept the room cautiously. Pete, sitting by Kitty, glared at her, and Cable wouldn't meet her eyes. Domino, completely absorbed by the shifting blue screen and the quiet babble of the announcer's words, ignored her.

Logan dropped their bags onto the rapidly rising pile, nostrils flaring as he walked across the room. His eyes shifted quickly from the closed door of the bedroom to Cable to Domino and back to the door- and his face split in a broad grin. 'Well, well, well.'

"What's so damn funny?" Cable muttered, looking away, and it took every single ounce of Logan's self-control not to embarrass Neena by telling him exactly what he found so amusing. 'She'd kill me, but it'd be almost worth it t' watch Summers squirm...'

"Oh, nothin'," he pursed his lips, shaking his head quickly. "Nothin' at all." Joining Betsy and Ororo on the other sofa, he ran a hand through his unruly hair and urged with a faint smile "We're all here. Let's get started- ain't none of us gettin' any younger."

Domino looked away from the screen to greet them, wearing a cocky smile. "Looks like we have a nice head start," she scooted back so they could see the screen, pressed a button on the remote to turn the volume up. "There's a nice little thunderstorm warning over the coast of northern Spain this evening, with expected hail and lightening all over the place. With a little help," she inclined her head cautiously towards Ororo "This could be exactly what we need to get through his external security. All that ionization in the air will help scramble some of their readings, and since I know where the main sensors are a few judiciously placed lightening bolts ought to do the trick. We can slip right in through the other traps, and if we're careful, they won't suspect a thing."

She grinned broadly, extending her legs to cross them at the ankles, leaning back on her elbows, pleased at this omen. "Things are falling into place very nicely."

A murmur of approval rose over the room, but Ororo held up a hand, her eyes hard. "Tell me, Domino," she began mildly "If this had not come up, how would we have gotten in? A sudden storm of such ferocity as I could conjure would certainly have made them suspicious."

Pete opened his mouth to protest, but Domino beat him to it. 'There's no room for this today,' she fumed. 'This is too important to let personal agendas into it.' Nevertheless, she tilted her head and answered sweetly "Oh, that's easy. We would have gone in through the sewage system, and waded through waist-high shit until we got to the grate." Pasting on a saccharine smile, she continued pleasantly "Then, where hopefully my signature's still programmed into the system, I could have slipped in without being fried and reprogrammed it to let the rest of you in. Not much has changed, actually," she fixed the other woman with a hard stare. "Except the shit."

Ororo's eyes narrowed, and she nodded curtly. "Very well."

"Now then," Domino surveyed the room calmly, standing up to lean casually against the wall. "We'll outline the rest of the plan, pass out equipment en route. I've called a couple of cabs to pick us up in about ten minutes to take us to Braddock Enterprises to pick up the plane. Betsy, you left instructions with Brian's people to fuel up the PACRAT, right?"

The British telepath nodded sharply, and Domino moved on to other matters. Betsy paused, feeling a faint buzzing in the back of her mind. Focusing her senses, she soon discovered what it was. When she looked hard enough, Betsy could see the new psilink between Cable and his partner, far stronger and more vibrant than before. Hiding a knowing smile behind a cough, Betsy chuckled. They could pretend to the others all they wanted to nothing had changed, but she knew better.

'Good try dampening it, Nathan,' she sent the cool thought privately, listening with half an ear as Domino continued debriefing the group. She merely nodded at his wide-eyed stare of surprise. 'But you really do need to tighten your shielding a bit. I doubt anyone other than an alpha-class could detect it, but one can never be too careful. It's been a while for you, hasn't it?'

Cable's eyes narrowed in irritation at her impertinence, and the return thought he sent her was blistering in its intensity. 'Dammit, why is it that every psi on this whole friggin' planet wants to tell me how to use my power?' he glowered, annoyed at this less than subtle reminder that he still had much to learn about his abilities.

Despite the force of his reply, and her natural inclination to fling up her mental shielding against power of such magnitude, she stared him down coolly. 'Perhaps because, despite how paranoid and arrogant you are, some of us actually want to help? Nathan, using these abilities isn't easy - as powerful as you are, it takes time to learn technique.'

His face tightened, and though he didn't answer she did see the shimmering connection between he and Domino dim visibly, and the buzzing in her mind stopped.

'That's better,' she told him, refocusing her attention on Domino, relieved it was over.

'I'm so damn glad you approve,' he snapped, then looked away, annoyed at his slip in control, glancing around the room to see if anyone had been watching to see their reactions. No one had, though he couldn't help but notice that Logan was still wearing the same faint smirk he'd worn earlier.

Oblivious to their discussion, Domino finished "Everybody wearing uniforms under your civvies?"

Everyone else nodded, but Pete's eyes narrowed and he jutted his chin out belligerently. "Y' know damn well I don't wear bloody cake-boy outfits, an' I ain't about t' start now."

Domino's lips curved in a wicked smile as one of her favorite memories flashed to mind. "Are you sure, runt? It wouldn't take long at all to fix you up if you want me to. I think I still remember how Grizzly did it that time-"

Remembering the incident very well, the Englishman cut loose with a stream of annoyed invective that was long and surprisingly inventive, effectively breaking the tension in the room. Ignoring the bewildered looks on some of his companion's faces, and the amused looks on the others, he paused for breath and finished "So you just sod off, Dom, or I'll tell 'em what *you* were doin' in there in th' first place."

Cable's grim and foreboding exterior cracked for a moment, and something that sounded peculiarly like a whoop of laughter slipped from his lips. Domino glared at them both, then had to chuckle. "Some other time," she allowed with a grin that was quickly sobered by harsh reality. "But right now we've got work to do." Glancing at the assembled others, she took a deep breath. "Anything to add, boys and girls, any questions?"

There were none. "Everything sounds good to me, Dom," Cable seconded her, and though the expression on his face didn't change the determined look in his eyes reassured her beyond all words.

She nodded sharply. "Then let's do it."


Part 47

'I did not work two jobs to put myself through the agony of business school just to wind up fetching bloody hamburgers,' the nattily dressed red-haired young executive fumed, holding a large bag adorned with a familiar golden arches in his left hand and a tray of sodas in his right as he strode down the hall. He did his best to ignore the amused glances of the older employees as he walked past them quickly, chin held up, trying to salvage as much dignity from the situation as he could. "Look at 'im, tryin' to get in there and see them ladies again," his immediate supervisor, the bane of his existence, taunted gleefully.

'Bastard,' David fumed, though he had to admit the older man was correct about one thing. The women at the far end of the hall something else, and every male employee (and some of the female ones) had been angling past those rooms all day. David hadn't, though. He'd been very properly minding his own business, taking a rough draft copy of the latest proposal he'd been assigned to the same blasted boss who was now laughing at him when one of the bodyguards snagged him, barking out his orders in a rough gravely voice that sounded like he was accustomed to being obeyed.

He didn't like it, didn't like it at all, but really had very little choice but to comply. His boss' sister had pretty much taken over his offices yesterday, docking her private fancy plane on the same pad Mr. Braddock'd built for his fancy little plane right on the roof, bringing in her model friends and their bodyguards to hang out there between shoots, she said.

'Even so, nowhere in my job description does it say anythin' about lookin' after the Big Man's sister's hungry Yank bodyguards, no matter how many gorgeous models I get t' see in th' meantime,' he fumed, remembering again just how damn big the one who'd pulled him aside and sent him after so much food was. 'Not like any one of 'em'd give me the time of day, anyway.'

Plastering a smile on his face anyway, he stopped by the first of the rooms in the conference suite now occupied by Ms. Braddock and her friends. He knocked on the door politely, ready to get this over with so he could get back to work. If he didn't have that proposal ready, it'd be his job on the line.

Inside the room, Cable glanced impatiently at the door. He could sense the young man's loudly broadcast irritation, and from the dark look on Betsy's face, he could tell she could, too. 'Sorry, buddy,' he thought wryly 'But I was about to starve to death. Didn't have much time for breakfast this morning...' The twitch on his lips became a full-fledged grin at that, and it was all he could do not to look at Dom, remembering how they'd chosen to spend their morning instead. 'Nope. Mind back on your work, Nate.' It'd be easier once they got to the field, he knew- no, he hoped- but now, sitting around waiting, going over plans for the thousandth time- it was very easy to let his mind wander to far more pleasant topics.

She didn't notice his furtive glances. Leaning over the long rectangular conference table, palms flat against it, the object of his thoughts was absorbed in answering yet another of Kitty's questions. Perhaps not surprisingly, considering her intellect and training, the youngest one among them had proven one of the most useful, pointing out potential snags in the plan with a subtlety that surprised him. Nathan had to continually remind himself not to judge the young Shadowcat by her years. 'After all, Dom was just about that age when we met. . .'

Walking over to the door, he allowed himself a small smile at the memory of their first meeting so long ago. 'G.W.'s jaw hurt for a month,' he chuckled, flicking his image inducer back on before he opened the door to gratefully relieve the man's burden of processed food and sodas. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out a couple of large bill and stuffed it in the surprised employee's hand. 'Maybe that'll make up for it,' he closed the door on the gaping young man, who left the room in a much better mood than he'd gotten there.

'Hmmm. . .' David's eyes widened as he counted the money, walking back down the hall with a much more contented expression on his face. 'Maybe that fellow wasn't such a bad bloke after all.'

Returning to the table, Nathan waited for Dom to finish, then took a chair beside her. "Dinner is served," he proclaimed grandly, and the others gratefully stopped their conversations where they were. They'd checked out of the hotel hours ago, and were now just waiting for the sun to go down, going over the plan ad nauseum until everyone- even Ororo, who was still giving him the cold shoulder- was comfortable with all aspects of it.

The thought of Ororo caused him to flush slightly. He still wasn't certain exactly how he'd handle that. It was obvious the woman thought there was something between them, and to be fair, he had to admit that he'd given her plenty of reason to think so. Wincing at the thought, he changed gears mentally and began going over the mission again as he dumped the food on the table, finding that far easier to think about than Ororo's wrath. 'Or Dom's, if it gets to that,' his shoulders tightened, not knowing how his partner would react to the other woman after what they'd shared last night. 'Flonq me for letting me get to this. If I'd've had the guts to do this long ago, none of this would've happened.'

He dumped the bag of burgers onto the table as Domino rolled up map of Tolliver's compound she and Pete had drawn up earlier. The plan was comparatively simple- Dom had highlighted in red about where Tyler had placed his external sensor alarms, Storm would both zap them a path with several judiciously placed lightning bolts and intensify the fortuitous- he smiled ironically - rainstorm that appeared to be heading exactly towards the area of the fortress. From there Dom would slip in, reprogram the system to let them in, and they'd go from there.

'And that's the worst part about it,' he thought darkly. 'That's really what this whole plan hinges on. It's a hell of a chance, whether or not Dom's still programmed into that system. If not...' He paused, not liking to think of what might happen, knowing the depths of brutality Jenskot's son could descend into, part of him raging against the fact that he'd have to send Domino in that place where she'd suffered so much alone again. 'But I promised her I'd treat her just like anyone else, and if that's a risk she's willing to take, I've got to let her do it.' He inhaled sharply, knowing this was just the first test of the promise he'd made her this morning.

Leaning forward, elbows on the table, Nathan popped the top off one of the soft drinks Betsy's employee had brought and drank deeply, feeling the cold carbonated drink flow down his throat. On his right side, Domino spun her chair towards him, stomach growling loudly. With a playful smile, she grabbed the burger he'd been about to eat right out of his hand. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to share?" she grinned, taking a huge bite from it.

He didn't say anything, just waited for the reaction he knew would come. "Phugh!" Her face twisted in a grimace, and she grabbed a drink of her own to wash down the noxious oily taste. "Dammit, Nate, you knew that would happen! Did you get mayonnaise on all of these or just this one?"

"Get your own and find out," he answered mildly, a teasing look in his eyes as he took the sandwich from her hand. "And it serves you right for having such bad table manners."

"Yeah, and you're Emily friggin' Post, I suppose," she muttered, taking another burger from the pile and peering under its bun suspiciously. Finding no offending condiments, she took a satisfied bite, glaring up at him, the twinkle in her violet eyes belying her annoyed words.

"I'm terribly sorry to disturb your delicate sensibilities." He chuckled, and motioning towards the still full bag with one hand, offered some to everyone. "Anybody else want some, go ahead. Even Miss Piggy there ought not to be able to eat all of these." She gave him another dirty look, but the others only exchanged amused glances at their familiar bickering, appreciating the subtle reassurance that all was well and this was just another mission to complete and then return home from. '

At the invitation, Pete snaked a hand into the pile and grabbed a couple of burgers for himself, handing one to the waiting Logan. The Canadian tore into it, as did Betsy beside him, who somehow made even the act of eating a hamburger look elegant. Pete somehow got the impression that he and Kitty were the only ones who'd found time for food this morning, and the strangeness of that prospect made him shake his head. 'I don't think I want t' know.' Pausing for a moment, he turned to his lover. "You want one, love?" Pete asked Kitty, who shook her head bemusedly.

"We already ate, remember?"

"Ah, y' can never eat enough. Blame it on th' mutant metabolism, or blame it on all of us just bein' a bunch of gluttons, makes no nevermind t' me. I like my food, I do." A brief pause. "How 'bout you, Ororo?" He tilted his head at the wide eyed stares that appeared around the room at his words. "Would you like a thick, juicy burger?"

On the other side of the table, Domino was stifling a laugh, and not doing too good of a job at it. 'Score one for you, Pete.' She'd known the man far too long to recognize the offer for anything other than it was - a sharp jab at the woman who had taken such an obvious dislike to him. Pete had been in the business too long not to do his homework on the people he was associated with, and just like she'd done everything she could to find about the myriad members of all the X-teams before she'd finally agreed to help Nate with X-Force, she was certain her old friend had done the same before consenting to move his life to Muir. Old habits did indeed die hard, and there were generally reasons for them. 'It's kept us alive.'

Pete blinked, a practised look of injured innocence. "Wot? Can't a man be friendly 'round 'ere, offer a bite t' eat?"

"I do not eat meat," Storm answered icily, staring with cold disdain as her teammates devoured the packaged fast food.

"Suit yerself," Pete answered blithely through an open mouthful of half-chewed food, but when his deep blue eyes met hers she could see they were as hard and flinty as her own. Ororo felt her cheeks burn.

"Besides," Ororo continued calmly, though those who knew her best could see the slightest tightening around her eyes. "I thought everyone had eaten already. We came to this building to await sundown so we can leave, and I was under the impression we would use this time to work. I was not aware we would have to take time out for nourishment."

"Oh, lighten up, Storm," Domino crumpled up the paper wrapper of the burger she'd just finished and grabbed another, the ravenous hunger she hadn't taken the time to feed this morning diminishing only slightly. "Some of us just have bigger appetites than others." She kept her face purposefully bland, but the other woman stiffened anyway. Logan had to bite back the loud guffaw he felt rising at the beginnings of Cable's vehement nod, quickly cut off by Domino's foreboding glare.

'Heh.' Logan thought with a smile as he swallowed the last of his burger. 'Neena's gonna run you a merry race, boy, an' if you know what's good fer ya y'll appreciate what th' good Lord gave y' there. Jeannie's son or not, won't much matter to me if y' hurt her. That is-' He felt a flash of almost paternal pride. 'If there's anything left of you when she gets through with ya if ya screw up like y' been known ta do before.'

When the food had been consumed, and the trash disposed of properly- it was all Cable could do to convince Betsy, still annoyed at the red-haired young man's unwillingness to help earlier - not to call him back into the room to carry it away- the team returned their attention to the remaining matter at hand. Everything had been hammered out completely save one important detail - exactly how they were going to get the dozen or so renegade Black Air geneticists out of Tolliver's fortress and to the PACRAT to be returned to England to answer for their crimes.

"Bloody shame y' can't hurl 'em through yer shadows or anythin' like that," Pete suggested to Betsy, but the British telepath fixed her countryman with a long, hard glare, coldly shaking her head in the negative.

"It is hardly that easy anymore," Her left hand clenched around the ink pen she was taking notes with, holding it so tightly the knuckles whitened. Beside her, Logan's dark eyes searched her face as she obviously worked through some deep, painful emotions.

Betsy paused, then went on in a more controlled voice. "I still retain the ability, yes, but it was the hardest struggle of my life to escape the Crimson Dawn. I think your team, too, has had experiences with the Dragons, but I seriously doubt you know the extent of what the Dawn truly is." The others listened intently, having never before heard her speak of this. Even Pete abstained from his usual wisecracks, leaning closer to hear her better.

Logan's craggy features creased with pain at her words. He had been the one to take Warren to Gomurr to find the Dawn in the first place, and he was the one who bore the guilt of knowing full well what price might have to be paid. He just hadn't known it would be so high. 'I just couldn't bear ta watch y' die like that, Betts,' he writhed inwardly, not knowing if she'd hear or not. 'I just stand ta lose someone else I cared about to Sabretooth.' Silver Fox's lovely face appeared in his memory, and he blinked it away, knowing he'd have to retain all his faculties for the mission at hand.

She didn't answer, but she looked directly at him as she went on, her purple eyes offering nothing but forgiveness and thanks for what he had done, even though her words chilled him to the bone. "I very nearly lost myself, and every time I slide into shadows I risk losing my soul. It is even worse now for those I bring with me." She shuddered, remembering the early days when travelling through the shadows had been so easy, so convenient that she'd even used it to transport herself places as mundane as the supermarket or across the mansion. She hadn't known then what she learned later - every time she used the ability, it left a darker, deeper stain on her soul, an icy whisper of the madness that lay at the heart of the Crimson Dawn. Even though the pull was so slight at first she hadn't noticed it, the call had strengthened until it was all she thought about, all she did.

It'd taken so long, but she'd finally mastered the shadows within her to overcome her battle, and had exulted when its red brand finally left her face- but she knew the danger still existed. She likened it to what Brian had gone through when he finally quit drinking. The shadows were to her much like drink was to him - a constant temptation, a pull that would truly never go away, and she feared that if she ever gave in once she wouldn't have the strength to pull away again. To be completely honest with herself, she didn't know where she found the power to do it the last time.

Looking up at her teammates, she lifted her chin slightly and said very calmly, very clearly "I am telling you this so you know what it is you are asking if you ask this thing of me."

Nathan nodded slowly, feeling for the first time a kinship with the other telepath, a woman he'd always considered too cool, too aloof for her own good. "I understand," he told her quietly, and then they'd let the matter drop.

After a moment's awkward silence they picked back up where they left off, and a heated discussion later reached a consensus- the ever-effective combination of drugging the scientists to the point of complacency and herding them out prevailed.

As Domino and Pete argued about which combination of drugs would be most efficient, Betsy looked inward, her revelations about the Crimson Dawn leading predictably into thoughts of what Warren and Logan had done to save her, and that of course, made her think of the choice she must now make between the two men. She looked at Logan, seeing his passionate intelligence, the strength of his humanity that would always overpower the beast within him. She turned away, thinking again of Warren- of his beauty, body and soul, of the his kindness, of the power and overwhelming clarity of the love they'd once shared. The love they still shared, she knew, despite what they'd both done to the other. 'Still,' she looked at Logan again 'I do not regret for a moment what happened last night. I simply wish. . .' she trailed off, not knowing what it was she wished, not knowing exactly what it was she felt for him- really, for either of them- anymore. 'I need more time,' she thought a bit wildly, glancing at the clock. Five o'clock. One hour until they left for Spain.

She stood up. "We shall be leaving shortly, and I need to make a few calls," she explained at their curious looks. Logan's chin jerked up, and an unrecognizable light came into his eyes but he said nothing as she walked away. Betsy felt a familiar tug on her heart, an omen of what was to come if she and Logan kept up this dangerous game, a game she had no intention of calling to a halt just yet. Nevertheless, she steeled herself and left the room. She had promised Warren she'd call him today, and she owed him that much at least.

Noticing Logan's expression, Domino's eyes narrowed. 'Don't know what's up with you, old man, but I hope you know what you're doing.' With a start, she snorted 'Hell, I'm one to talk. Night before confronting one of the worst personal demons in a head full of them, and I spend it in bed with his father.' Not wanting to think about Tolliver, especially in light of what she and Nathan had just shared, she reached across the table for the map and spread it out again.

"All right, people, let's go over it one more time." Instead of the groans she'd grown accustomed to with X-Force, this group merely nodded, expecting this thorough repetition as the norm. Much as she loved the kids, it was nice to work with real professionals again. "Like I told you before, when I let you in, Logan, you, Pete, and Nathan are going to do guard-control- run interference for us. I can't say for certain what the clone will do, but Tolliver kept a healthy number of guards. Most of 'em are brawn, so that's a good thing. He generally reserves the more intelligent employees for outside work, figuring the security system will keep him safe enough in his fortress. He's usually right."

Since she would be the only one exposed to it, she didn't feel the need to tell them exactly what happened to people who didn't make it through the system. She was more than aware of it. 'Might as well be ready for it though, Dom,' she thought grimly 'If Pete's wrong and my signature's not still in the system, that's probably exactly what will happen to me.' She swallowed. 'At one time that might not have bothered me, but now. . .' she stopped, unwilling to think of how much she now had to live for. Beside her, Nathan caught her eye and she nodded curtly, continuing in the same calm tone.

"The three of you'll take care of that- Ororo, you'll stay in the main corridor/rendezvous point. All halls lead to that central point, so you'll be able to see and alert us via the headsets we'll be wearing- I don't want to depend on our psionics, he has jammers- if anything's coming you can't handle. You're also back up. I need you to be ready in case either group needs help." Domino didn't specify her other reason for wanting Storm to remain in the large central hall- the tunnels dug below the fortress that housed the heart of Tolliver's operation grew uncomfortably small in places, and the X-Man's claustrophobia was well known. As much as she personally didn't like the woman, she wouldn't put her through that unless it were absolutely necessary.

At the other woman's nod, she continued "I'll lead Psylocke and Shadowcat into the scientist quarters. We'll have our gas masks, so it shouldn't be too much trouble for us skulkin' ninja types to get in there and get the job done. Then lead them out, easy as you please, meet the rest of you in the main hall, and get the hell out of there." Pete looked up at her, and she nodded infinitesimally.

She very carefully kept her bond with Nathan dimmed. It was growing increasingly difficult to do so after last night, but her plans for the evening had nothing to do with him. She very pointedly didn't tell him that she'd lead Psylocke and Shadowcat into the scientist's quarters, help drug and tie them up, and then slip away to deal with the what she found in the laboratories and operating rooms where Tolliver had delighted in sending her when she angered him too much. If she planned things right, she'd be in and out in plenty of time to meet back at the rendezvous point, and if she didn't?

She'd told Pete her plan earlier, and his credit, he hadn't tried to stop her. He'd simply asked her what she wanted him to do, and when she'd told him, nodded once, squeezed her hand, and walked away. If she wasn't back at the rendezvous point by fifteen minutes after the appointed time, and couldn't be reached on her headset, he was to send the others on to the PACRAT with the scientists and come after her. 'Never go without a back-up,' she thought, glad that Pete was here to help her keep this from Nathan.

Suddenly, the images from Betsy's vision appeared in her mind, and she grimaced. 'I'll just have to be more careful. Betsy did say they were only possible futures- and if I know about them, I can avoid them.'

The explanation sounded weak even to her, but she saw no other way around it. She felt a wave of guilt about not telling Nathan, but then he hadn't asked, and it'd only cause him more pain to see the horrible reality of the labs his son had built, horrible pits so similar to some of the atrocities of his childhood. 'I'll take care if it,' she decided. 'He doesn't need any more pain.'

'If all goes well, we'll be out of the building and halfway back to London before anybody knows any differently, too,' she thought fiercely. Shying away from thoughts that what she was planning by protecting him like this was exactly what she'd warned him against this morning, she tapped her foot on the floor, very conscious of the twin wads of extremely powerful explosives she kept hidden in the heels of her boots, their fuses tucked safely away in one of the pouches on her gunbelt in the plane. 'It'll get taken care of,' she told herself again 'one way or the other, Tyler's little game ends. Today.'

"You sure you've got everything you need, Ms. Braddock?" The hangar manager's chiselled features squinted against the last bright beams of sunset as he looked up into the strange-looking plane so similar to Mr. Braddock's. 'Must be nice t' have that much money,' he thought a bit wistfully. "All's clear out here."

"Yes, thank you very much for your help, Rupert. I'll be certain to tell my brother of your hospitality," Betsy leaned out of the plane, inwardly seething at having to say such, knowing half or at the very least a third of this company should be hers. She managed a charming smile anyway- as handsome as the man was, it wasn't hard- and with clipboard in hand, ducked back inside the plane to finish the pre-flight check.

"Hey, Rupert! How are you today?" Kitty greeted the tall man warmly, and his face lit up in recognition. She and Pete took the Midnight Runner into London frequently, though this time Kurt had taken it back with him after he'd dropped them off. He didn't want to be away from Amanda and the baby for too long, he'd explained a bit apologetically, but Pete had shooed him on, uncharacteristically understanding, glad for the excuse not to have to lie to Kurt about what they were really doing.

"Kitty!" Rupert took her hands in his, squeezing them tightly. "Mr. Wisdom," he greeted Pete in a much more subdued manner, then immediately turned back to Kitty. "I thought Kurt said he'd be back to pick you up in a few days." His voice was deep and smooth, and Kitty dimpled instinctively at him.

"Plans change," Pete informed him shortly, feeling as always an instinctive dislike for this handsome young man who had always been entirely too friendly to Kitty in his opinion. Of course no one had asked his opinion. Taking her by the hand, he turned toward the plane and yelled over his shoulder "All right then. Good talkin' to ya. Gotta go. Bye."

Kitty, being jerked along, shrugged her shoulders at Rupert. "See you later!" She told Rupert as Pete tugged her towards the plane.

Once inside, she yanked her hand away from him, eyebrows knitted together in irritation. It was just on the tip of her tongue to demand why he'd acted like such an wanker when Ororo stepped into the plane.

Kitty's expression immediately changed. Instead of the harsh blessing-out she'd planned, she smiled sweetly and snuggled against Pete on the bench lining the wall. Ororo looked away, her eyes clouding slightly, and stepped into the cockpit without a word. The moment she turned away Kitty pulled away from him, just as angry at his possessiveness as before.

Pete felt his heart well within him at this evidence of her allegiance. All excuses gone, he pulled her close to him and whispered simply into her hair "I'm sorry, Pryde.

I know I'm a bloody jackass sometimes, but when that good-lookin' bastard comes on to you like that I just get so jealous. I'm sorry."

She tensed for a moment, then relaxed into his arms. "'s all right," she answered. "Didn't you know he's gay?"

Pete tilted his head in surprise. "Really?"

"Really," she sighed. "But it wouldn't matter if he wasn't. I'm happy with you, even if you are such a stupid git. Don't worry, though. I'm beginning to think you can't help it."

"Can't help what?" Domino asked, stepping into the plane, smiling softly at the tender scene, Cable and Logan right behind her. "Being a stupid, oblivious, jealous idiot?" Domino, too, had seen Pete's reaction outside, and was enjoying her old friend's discomfiture immensely. Pete growled openly at her.

"That's it exactly," Kitty answered the older woman, and as the cabin filled with people, she pulled away from Pete a bit regretfully. "Though you do it again and you'll be a stupid wanker with a size 7 shoe up his ass," she pitched her words for Pete's ears alone, but she forgot about Logan. He laughed aloud.

"Anyway, ya'll ready to go?" He asked, and Betsy opened the door to the cockpit, and she and Storm joined them in the main passenger section.

"All the equipment listed here is in the back-" Betsy gave Domino back the list she'd prepared earlier. "And everything seems to be in order."

Domino nodded. "Good. Storm?" She asked the other woman, who was strangely quiet. "How're things weather wise? You feel ready?"

"I have been preparing myself all day," Ororo answered, her lilting voice sounding a bit distanced. "I am ready."

"All right, then," Domino rubbed her hands together. "Let's get started. We'll divvy out ammunition and equipment mid-flight- for now, let's just get underway. Buckle yourselves in, everybody, it's time to rock-n-roll."

She stepped into the cockpit as the others did just that, settling into their seats and preparing for takeoff with the ease of long practice. Leaning her head against the cool glass pane, she breathed deeply, feeling suddenly perfectly relaxed. 'What is, is,' she told herself, and had to laugh. 'Whatever happens, happens. Let's just get it over with.' After a moment, Nathan joined her in the cockpit, closing the door tightly behind him. She was quiet for a moment, watching him take the pilot's seat and began the start up sequence. There was so much to say to him, but somehow the words wouldn't come. "You ready for this?" She finally asked him, laying her pale hand across his square one lightly.

He stopped what he was doing for a moment, raising a silver hand to touch her cheek, gray-blue eyes full of emotion. "Ready as I'll ever be."

She leaned into his kiss, and they were suspended like that for a moment, two figures illuminated by the last dying rays of sunset shining golden through the clear glass window of the plane. A few moments later the plane started up and took off, carrying those within it towards the night in Spain and what it would bring.


Part 48

Shortly after the plane lifted from the small pad atop Braddock Enterprises, they lapsed into an uncharacteristicly uncomfortable silence. Cable felt his tension heighten exponentially as the plane ripped across the relatively few miles between England and Spain. Watching Domino, feeling her struggle to regain her customary cool detachment even in the wake of the tremendous emotional upheaval of the past few days, Cable felt his forced aura of self-assurance slowly dissipate again into thinly diguised fury at what he knew they were walking head-first into. 'Stupid move, Nate. You're allowing emotion to cloud your judgment.'

'None of us are stupid or inexperienced enough not to know just what we're getting ourselves into,' he thought grimly. 'And in all of our planning, everyone's been so busy trying not to remind me of the fact that' he swallowed, eyes fixed tightly on the controls, doing anything to avoid her suddenly piercing stare 'Thing behind all of this is a duplicate of my. . . son that they're not pointing out obvious flaws in our strategy.' The word 'son' felt strange to him, but he brushed that thought aside quickly. He'd long ago comes to terms with the particulars of Tyler's parentage as best he ever would, and knew that now was *not* the time to begin thinking again of that old pain. 'Not if I want to get through this half-way sane.'

When he wouldn't meet her gaze, Domino turned her head away to stare back out of the window at the thunderous downpour. Flashes of jagged electricty split the sky, and the air echoed with the sounds of sharp precipitation impacting on the plane's image-induced hull. 'Storm's giving this all she's got,' Domino thought admiringly, feeling a begrudging respect for the woman's skills if not her personality. 'I might not like her worth a damn, but I'm actually glad she came. With all the ionization in the air *and* the interference of all this water, we might actually make it through the security system.'

As the electricity in the air flickered, casting blue light over their faces in an eerie strobe effect, Cable ground his teeth and heightened his mental shielding against the tumult of emotions in the air. Even excepting Domino's thoughts, which even before their link had always stood out as especially loud and bright, he could sense Ororo's formidable will battling with the elements to achieve the sheer power necessary for the incredible display of energy helping disguise their plane and warp Tyler's sensors.

'The *last* thing I need is for Dom to catch me thinking about Storm. . .' He stifled a shudder, foul mood growing darker. 'I'm gonna have to deal with all this sooner or later, but flonq, I hope it's later. We've got enough to deal with right now.'

As Cable thought on these things, Domino leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Forcing herself to ignore the maelstorm outside, she'd just began to focus her thoughts and slip into the proper mindset Logan had taught her all those years ago. She'd just begun to push her emotions to the side and become once more the cool and precise soldier when sharp images from Betsy's vision sprang unbidden from her rebellious subconcious. She kept her face impassive, ignoring them as best she could, but beside her in the cockpit, through slitted eyes, she saw Nathan wince anyway.

"What was that for?" she muttered grumpily.

"Nothing," he shrugged, but before he could stop it a quick tumble of the images from Betsy's vision shot from his mind to hers through their link. He cursed under his breath.

Her jaw clenched at the intrusion, and he could see in her eyes the frustration that echoed his own. "Is that what's wrong with you?" she lashed out, knowing she was angry at the circumstances, not at him. "You're afraid I can't handle whatever it is we find in there?"

His hands clenched around the controls, dark mood contrasting sharply with his earlier euphoria and his left eye glittered in the dark cockpit, mirroring the lightening flashes outside. Instead of the glowering machismo he so often masked his emotions with, however, he took a deep breath and told her the truth. "You're damn right I'm afraid! You think I don't *know* what a sick bastard that mockery of Jen's son is, and just how flonquin' tough this is gonna be? Do you think Forge's pretty new toys will keep us safe from all that? Give me *some* credit, Domino."

"Then you return the favor," she spat, fists clenched in impotent anger. "Give *me* some credit, too. I'm not a scared little girl, Nate, afraid of the boogeyman. I'm- we're all professionals here."

Before she could respond, the red LED lights on the console flashed brightly. "We're here," he informed her, and felt his own heartbeat quicken at her sharp intake of breath.

Instead of comforting her, like he so desperately wanted to, Cable kept quiet and began the final landing sequence, careful to circle far around the outside perimeter of Tolliver's security system to land at the coordinates Pete and Domino had agreed upon. Deftly piloting the plane to park in a large outcropping of rock a few miles from the fortress, Cable changed the setting on the PACRAT's image inducer to blend in with the lanscape instead of the fluctuating darkness of the sky. The plane shuddered slightly and was still.

Recognizing the magnitude of the moment, both were silent. Neither looked at the other, not knowing quite what to say, but after a few moments Domino sighed and unstrapped herself from her seat. Nathan's jaw clenched tightly, and he began angrily shutting down the plane and programmed the sophisticated auto-pilot to pick them up if the proper emergency beacon was activated. 'Oath, this could be it, could be the last time, and neither damn one of us knows what to say. . .'

Finished, he stood up, almost bumping into her as they jostled for room in the cramped cockpit. Apologizing brusquely, he shifted as they awkwardly circled around each other so as not to touch the other as they moved the few steps to the door.

Cable stopped suddenly. 'This is ridiculous.' An unexpected glint of humor showed through his dour expression. "Dom," he said with a small smile.

"What?" She didn't look at him, but he even without the strength of their link he could sense how she felt. He felt the same.

'I thought we said we weren't going to play these games. It's gonna be all right,' he sent warmly, projecting every bit of strength and love and encouragement he could through their link. Eyes never leaving her face he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips to kiss her palm softly, and for a moment there was peace. She swallowed tightly and brought the hand to her chest and clasped it there. The expression on her face flickered for a moment, and in it he could see her heart.

Before he could speak, though, she raised a halting finger and turned her face away. When she turned to look at him again, his lover, the woman who'd shared his bed and his mind, was gone and in her place stood a soldier staring back at him with steely amethyst eyes. She stepped away from him.

He felt something within himself harden slightly, though he recognized what she was doing. 'This isn't the end,' he sent, though he couldn't be sure she'd heard it or the silent prayer he sent to heaven. "Very well. Let's get started," he rasped, slipping skillfully into battle-mode, taking refuge in this thing he knew so well. 'She's right,' he thought a bit regretfully. 'Until this mission's over neither of us can afford the distraction.' Far better, he mused, to fall into old patterns, work with proven methods until they had time to adjust to this fundamental change in their relationship.

'First, Nate. . .' she sent through their link, a flash of gratitude showing through her mask as she realized what he'd done and why. 'What we talked about? The link- like we agreed?'

Remembering their decision, he nodded, a resigned look in his grey-blue eyes. Very slowly, so as not to cause any more damage to her already bruised psyche, he dampened the link between them so that the brilliant golden bond became only a thin bronze thread, gleaming dully against the darkness that threatened to engulf them.

Even though he'd known this was coming, he couldn't help but grunt in pain as his mind caught fire, shrieking at her sudden absence, every instinct, every synapse demanding that he cease this foolishness and restore the comforting bond immediately. He resisted, though, knowing that their decision had been the right one- besides the risk of Tyler or any other enemy telepath detecting it and tracing them, the bond between them shone so brightly that it was an effort to think of anything other than her. Neither could afford the distraction right now.

As he carefully loosened the tie between them, Domino sagged against the door of the cockpit. The edges of her vision sparkled as she moaned aloud as a searing pain tore through her mind, cutting her off from his solid, comforting presence. Suddenly, he wasn't there, she was alone, and all there was was pain.

At her sharp gasp, he leaned forward to catch her, grey-blue eyes wide with concern. Biting her lip, she shook him off, righting herself with both palms pressed against the surface of the door. 'I can do this I can do this I can do this,' she repeated like a mantra, schooling herself back to composure. When she finally looked up at him, her face was even paler than usual, but he could feel her thoughts clutching to the thin thread that remained between them like a lifeline. He'd done much the same.

"Nate," she choked, the woman showing through the warrior as the same agony he'd felt rushed through her, only with an intensity her non-psi mind wasn't equipped to handle. "Is it *supposed* to feel like this? This. . . empty, this dead inside?"

He swallowed, remembering how lost he'd been at Aliya's death, how hollow his soul had become at the severing of their link and how much it still hurt. "Yeah. It is," he whispered bleakly.

"I never knew," she said in a ragged whisper. "Put it back. I can ignore the distraction if you can, I swear, anything but this-"

His very nearly acquiesed, but then better judgment took over. "No, we were right, Dom," he told her, ignoring the ache again as he had for so many years. "We *can't* deal with this right now, not and do this like it has to be done. But maybe I can. . ." Closing his eyes and reaching out a soothing telepathic tendril, he gently smoothed away the rough edges of what was left of their link. With great finesse, he soothed her inarticulate non-psi mind, convinced it that their bond only lay dormant, not dead, until the luminous psi-pattern, light within shadows, that had always shone so brightly to him was back as it should be. Placing a few temporary shields around the most affected areas, he slid quickly out of her thoughts, certain that no permanent damage to the bond would result from this necessary separation.

"Thanks," she breathed, removing her hands from her temple, gratitude apparant even through the mask that was slowly descending again. He felt a slight tingle from the link that told him she was still there with him, and was immensely reassured. "That's much better, Nathan," she told him crisply as her senses returned to normal.

"Glad to be of service," he smiled wanly, performing the same operation on himself, standing a little straighter when it was done. "Now let's get this thing started."

Domino strode into the cabin, clapping her hands loudly. "What are you people doing just sitting there? We've got a castle to raid," she barked, stepping over to a large plexisteel cabinet in the back of the plane. Unlocking it, she rummaged through several crates and began tossing several identical wrapped black bundles to her startled teammates.

Betsy caught hers with one hand and unwrapped it, staring dubiously at the thick black suit she held in her hand. Shaped rather like a wetsuit with gloves and a hood attached, it had belts and pockets and wires and other strange appendatures, and was hideously ugly. "I trust you have a good reason for this," she questioned curiously, eyebrows delicately arched.

"This ain't Margaritaville. There's no need for parrots here," she informed them with pointed glances at their various brightly-colored uniforms. Slipping her suit on over her own tight black bodysuit, Domino began bending and stretching until the pliant material molded to her form to fit her perfectly. On the other side of the cabin Cable did the same, pulling and tugging thick foamy material over his bulging muscles until the same suit that Domino had donned covered his much larger mass.

The others watched, intrigued at the demonstration. As expected, Pete protested when a bundle was thrust in his hands. He protested *loudly*. "I *told* you, Dom, I ain't wearin' no friggin' body condom for you or anybody," he complained, thin face set in a stubborn expression that she recognized all too well, and felt her own features set in a similiar manner.

"Aw, come on, kid, a few unstable molecules here an' there never hurt anybody," Logan grinned, already halfway into his suit. "If these are th' outfits Scoot told me about, we'll need 'em." 'Funny how Cable got 'em out of Forge before th' X-Men were able to,' Logan wondered. 'Wonder what chip he had to call in for these- I'll have ta ask Neena about it later.'

Pete didn't budge, only looked at Kitty balefully when she dutifully began suiting up. "Traitorous yank."

"Stupid git," she shot back cheerfully, immensely enjoying the predicament he was in. Excalibur had tried their best to get him to wear a conventional costume, but to no avail. 'This is gonna be fun.'

Domino sighed. "I know you won't see these on House of Style anytime soon, runt, and I *know* how damn fashion-concious you are, but this'll serve our purposes today." Leaving the suit's hood hanging at the back of her neck, she slipped on the the accompanying boots, lacing them up tightly, one hand hiding the other from view as it slipped a large wad of a gunky substance into her left heel. "They're outfitted with encrypted radio transmitters, too, so we won't have to depend on our psions for communication."

While the others examined the unfamiliar suits, pulling them on and testing them out, Domino stepped across the cabin and unlocked a tall combination locker. Rifling through it, she quickly selected several favorites, and gently put them to the side as she casually unzipped and fastened hidden pockets and snaps and straps, stuffing knives, pistols, ammunition, and a few more exotic implements of destruction into them, then began fastening some of the larger rifles in a dark backpack. "See, people? All kinds of fun places to hide your goodies."

"I c'n take care o' me own damn 'goodies,' thank y' very much, Dom," Pete muttered wryly, staring at the black outlines of the suit as if it were an armful of snakes. "And you've got more testosterone than most blokes I know."

"Pure estrogen, baby," Domino turned to Pete, who along with Ororo, remained unsuited. "But even a manly-man as cold-blooded as you are can't regulate your body temp so you don't show up on any term-scans." She addressed Pete, but raised her voice so the other woman in the back could hear her words as well. At the rash of puzzled stares, Domino continued. "These suits might be hot as hell and twice as ugly, but Forge assures me they'll adjust body temperature output to that of room temperature, and besides all that they're just about the best damn body armor I've been able to find. 'Course, Ororo, Pete, you energy projectile types might break the uniform's seal when you use your powers, so be aware of that."

From where she lingered in the back of the plane, Ororo's chin jerked slightly at the mention of Forge. Domino cursed herself for bringing him up. 'Dammit, the last thing I want to do is get her thinking about her love life right now.' Those thoughts were lost as she spied a particularly beloved plasma rifle lined up with several others in a plexiglass case along the back wall, and her eyes went wide with glee. She darted straight for it, all thoughts of her current romantic predicament vanished. 'I'd *wondered* where I put you, baby,' she crooned to the gun, ignoring the startled and then amused glances all around her. 'Oh, yeah. My luck *is* back.'

As Domino cooed to a large, ugly gun, Ororo stared at her, shoulders tensed, drawing back from the suit as if burned. 'How kind of her to so snidely mention the Maker,' she thought, and the plane rocked slightly from the increased turbulence from the vicious storm outside. After an all-day preparation, Ororo had slowly wrested control of the fierce weather already brewing, entwining the natural forces with her own powers and bending its will to her own.

It had not been a simple thing to create and maintain a maelstorm of this intensity- she'd had to isolated herself from the others, claiming a shadowy corner in the back of the cabin as she focused her concentration to razor sharpness. Normally Ororo kept certain safeguards raised in order to protect those around her from the full brunt of her powers but tonight, though, she could release herself and all the angry emotions she'd crushed inside her, release her fury with Cable and Domino and Forge and Pete and even Kitty and with the constant fear and prejudice they all lived under to transform the dark emotions into a thundering deluge.

As the lightning flashed outside, and with a small, secret smile, she shrugged and stepped into her suit, pulling it up over her long, lithe limbs as her soul soared along with the storm. Sometimes joining with nature was a gentle caress, sometimes a bitter pain, but times like this- while the others talked and bantered amongst themselves, Ororo was far away, exulting in the cathartic release, the thrill of all her elemental abilities let loose and free of all constraints. The currents touched her like a lover, and she felt the rain smashed into the landscape below, thunder roaring in the sky, jagged bolts of electricity splitting the points she aimed at with incredible precision. Ororo clenched her fists and the lightening sliced the air again, and her pupilless eyes widened at the sensual joy of it.

In the passenger area of the plane, Betsy shook her head. 'Thank God for shielding,' she thought fervently, impressed despite herself by the awesome power her teammate had unleashed. 'If this is what pent-up sexual frustration can do, I'm so glad I have Warren.' Fingering the spongy material of the suit absentmindedly, she saw Logan bend down to pick up a fallen gun, tight muscles rippling under the form-fitting black suit, and she swallowed.

With a final pat at her backpack, Domino slipped it onto her back. "Everybody got your gear? There's plenty of community guns and ammo in the Hold," she pointed to the plexiglass cabinet in the back.

"Some of us ain't quite so fond a guns, Dom," Pete reminded her with a wince as he nevertheless took a small pistol from the cabinet. Now wearing the suit, Pete glared at her with a venom that even in this dark mood she found amusing. Beside her, Nate chuckled at the unexpected sight of Pete in tights and Kitty gaped in open amazement. She elbowed him in the ribs.

"I know you don't like it, Pete," she didn't specify guns or outfit "But you know as well as I do that this is no ordinary mission- Tolliver's technology is so sophisticated we're gonna need every advantage we can get. Even with Storm's kindly provided weather," she inclined her head at Storm, who had stepped up from the sheltered back of the plane "If they sense your body heat they'll know something's up. And when we release the gas, we're gonna need the built-in oxygen tank-" gloved fingers pointed to a small compressor and tank built into the back of the suit.

Her lips quirked in a reminiscent smile. "But on second thought, at the rate you huff down those cancer-sticks, that much oxygen might not be good for you. Might make you sick," She teased, and was rewarded by Kitty's low chuckle.

Pete was the picture of forlorn resignation, and he glared disdainfully down at his thin frame, lean muscles outlined by the tight black suit. "I hate bloody spandex," he grumbled "Makes me look just like th' rest o' you bloody wankers." Arms linked through his, it was all Kitty could do not to laugh out loud at him- however handsome she found him, in or out of costume, even she had to admit her thin, wiry lover looked nothing like broad, stocky Logan or the hugely muscled Cable. 'And I suppose this is even more serious than I thought to get him into something like that. . .'

Listening to their banter with half an ear, Cable walked opened the locker with "BOSS" scrawled across it in what appeared to be hot pink nail polish. Telekinetically selecting several massive peices of ordnance, he closed the door behind him, ignoring the amazed stares of some of his teammates.

"I have never seen such big guns in my entire life," Kitty whispered in amazement to Pete, who was still glaring at his suit distrustfully.

"Friggin' phallic substitutes, love. Means he's got somethin' else t' hide." Pete answered, loud enough for the others to hear, still stung he was forced to wear such ridiculous garb. Cable pretended to ignore him, but the slight smile playing on the corners of Domino's lips and Logan's howl of laughter told him his jibe had hit its mark.

When Cable had finally armed himself and gear and equipment had been dispersed to all interested parties, Domino slipped her hood over her head. Watching the others do the same, she flicked on a switch in her belt and demonstrated some of the suits more essential function. "Well, that's about it," her voice came through the small hearing aid style transmitters they wore. "Anything else?"

"I think I speak for us all when I assure you we're quite ready to go," Psylocke answered, her deep alto sounding only slightly tinny in the others' ears.

"Ready when you are, darlin'," Logan assured her, and she imagined she could see his warm chestnut eyes crease in an encouraging smile, though the hood disguised any identifying features from view. Watching Kitty and Pete stand together, arms linked, drawing strength from each other's presence, she felt something twist within her at the realization that she and Nathan could not- would not allow themselves that comfort now. She wondered if two old soldiers like them would ever be that open about their feelings.

'Well, we're not gonna find out today. Let's get this over with.' After everyone was armed and ready, she opened the door to the plane. With a deep breath, stepping out onto the ramp into the pouring rain, she motioned sharply over her shoulder for the others to follow. "Let's do it."

Moments later, jagged bolts of electricity split the sky, briefly penetrating the tick veil of rain and darkness to reveal the ruined remains of an ancient stone fortess perched precariously atop a sharp cliff overlooking the broiling, angry sea. Logan crouched low to the ground, following the path Domino and Cable had traced out, his sharp senses unnerved by the weather and the sharp, familiar smells coming from the apparant pile of rubble about 500 yards from them. 'If that's an abandoned pile of rock, a teddy bear don't have a cotton dick.'

What disturbed him most was the familiarity of the scents- the place *smelled* like Genesis' stronghold where he'd almost become a Dark Rider. Logan shuddered, and pressed on, keeping his body low to the ground, watching Betsy and Ororo's stealthy figures on either side of him, occaisionally glancing back to see Kitty and Pete bringing up the rear. Logan trudged on, knowing that this was the easiest part in their plan. They were travelling in a broad zig-zag pattern, passing around several sizzling heaps of slag that steamed in the pounding rain, careful to not make too direct a path and arouse suspicion. Storm's aim had been, as always, superb, and they'd made excellent time.

When they were about 100 yards from the beginnings of the rubble, Cable stopped in his tracks. A few feet away from him, almost in unison, Domino halted. Flicking a tiny node on her glove, she changed frequencies from public to private. "What, Nate? What is it?"

"Up ahead," he leaned forward slightly, one gloved hand shading his eyes, trying to keep the water off of the goggles of his hood. Still on the public frequency, he noted "I sense sentries outside- it's hard to tell how many, but I think we were right, Dom. They *are* using a psychic dampener, but it's relatively weak and it's leaking bad around the edges. Betsy, you picking up anything?"

The British telepath concentrated, sending out her thoughts to skim the periphery of the rubble. Her more delicate, experienced touch easily honed in on what his raw power had detected first. "You're right," she agreed "With the interference it's difficult to say for certain, but I think I sense five separate mind-patterns."

"All right, then," Domino shifted easily, a large plasma rifle falling neatly into her hands. She smiled at it, taking comfort from its heavy, solid feel in her hands. "Let's take 'em out."

The team moved fluidly, working in quicksilver unison as they easily dispatched all of the guards surrounding what still appeared to be nothing more than a ruined pile of rock. When they were finished, and the unfortunate sentries bound and gagged and moved out of visible sight, Pete raised up a hand.

"Next step- disengagin' the holographic inducer that disguises this place."

Domino shook her head. "No time. They'll figure out what just happened here soon enough, and I want to be already in before they find out that Curly, Larry, Moe and company over there," She jerked her head back in the direction of the defeated sentries "Didn't all just take a piss break together." Walking towards the wall, she stuck her hands out, palms first, and began tapping the rough-hewn walls. "Here, gimme a hand. You're feeling for a flat steel doorframe- be careful, though-"

Understanding her caution, the others followed, and it was scant moments before Kitty's high, clear voice sounded in their ears "Here- I think I found something-"

Walking beside the younger woman, Domino carefully felt along the edges of the wall, and even through the thick gloves felt the rough stone suddenly stop to be replaced by a flat, cold surface. Underneath her suit she turned paler.

"Is this it?" Kitty asked quietly, immediately recognizing the stiffened shoulders and tense body language.

"This is it." Pulling her hood off her face, Domino shook her dark hair out and removed a small dark plastic microphone from a pouch in her suit and tucked it around her left ear, plugging it into her suit. "Keep your hoods ready to pull back on if there's a problem- especially you two," she inclined her head to Psylocke and Shadowcat, who had been given the task of drugging the scientists' air. "But for now we're probably all right." They eagerly complied.

Removing the suit's gloves, Domino looked at Cable, who was watching her intently. She said nothing, but allowed their gazes to meet for just a moment before turning around to face the area Kitty'd found. Hoping her face didn't betray the trepidation she felt, she grinned cockily. "I'll see you all in few minutes," she said, then stepped into the wall and was gone.

Part 49

Shoulders squared and expression guarded, Nathan gritted his teeth and watched her go. She flashed him a quick grin, violet eyes meeting his for just a moment before pivoting sharply and walking right into the image-induced vision of rubble and out of his sight. As she stepped through, the psionic null field dampened their link even further until it was only the faintest tendril in his mind, but it had been dimmed so much already only a psi of his caliber could feel the difference. And oh, he could feel the difference- now he barely had even that connection with her. Now, he probably couldn't reach her through it if he tried.

He stood there, watching as she walked away from him, just like she had so many times before. He watched her go, just as he had so many times before, standing silent and stoic as ever, until she was gone. He was silent. Calm. Unfeeling. Uncaring. Emotionless. More machine than man, the ever ruthless general, and she was just another disposable soldier, walking into the fortress only he knew how much she feared. He stood there, watching another woman he loved sacrifice it all for part of his dream, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it-

With an inarticulate cry, he started towards her, not caring that the others see the wild panic, his absolute terror. Before he reached the rubble, though, a strong hand clamped down on his forearm, yanking him back. He instinctively spun around to meet the threat, a dangerous growl sounding low in his throat, ready to unleash his frustration on anyone or anything that got in his way. He shouldn't have been surprised to see who it was.

"Let me go, damn you, Logan..."

An expression almost like pity flitted across the other man's grizzled features. "Nate-" Logan paused, searching for the words, and released his grip on Cable's black clad arm. "She's got to do this. You know that as well as I do."

The words- and the blistering exchange that followed- were pitched low, so quietly that only the other could hear, but the slightly embarrassed expressions on the faces of their companions left little doubt that the gist- if not the words- of the conversation was painfully obvious. Ororo, face absolutely blank, weariness and unease etched onto her lovely features, looked away, while Kitty and Elisabeth stood nearby, horribly uncomfortable to be witness to such bare emotion from so private a man. Elisabeth's brow was furrowed, and it was apparant to any who happened to look upon her that, weakened as it was from the proximity of the null-field, her telepathic shielding could barely keep out the intense emotional storm brewing between the two men. To avoid the turmoil, to garner strength from his presence, Kitty walked over to Pete, who alone out of the group paid the other two men no attention. He stood quietly, arms crossed, staring blankly into the wall of illusion and memory he'd so blithely sent his old friend into. She stopped beside him and waited as well.

'This must be how Kitty feels,' Domino thought wryly, blinking, as she stepped though the 'solid' rubble into the bright flouorescent light of a cold steel hallway. 'Luck, don't fail me now-' The levity abruptly ceased as her eyesight quickly adapted to the sudden brightness and a scene from her worst nightmares took shape. She could see down the cold antiseptic corridor to the cavernous foyer, which split into two wings. Immediately before it opened up into the foyer, the hallway ended in a large, ornate doorway- a beautiful fixture which she knew hid a deadly secret.

Domino suppressed the shiver that crawled down her spine. 'This is why I'm here.' She very pointedly did not think of anything, or anyone else, especially the one particular someone who was waiting for her outside. 'Get through this, Dom.'

A quick glance had assured her of the lack of any guards, but she still slinked down the hallway untill she reached the gothic arch separating the hall from the foyer. She stepped into it, standing stock-still, schooling her muscles into a relaxed state of readiness. She knew what to do- she'd seen the security tapes- Tolliver had been sure she was aware of the capacities of his system. He liked all his people to know what happened to those who disobeyed him.

A brief pause, then a cone of intense light clicked on abruptly from overhead, illuminating her body from above. If she hadn't been expecting it, she would have jerked or ran, and the system would have been alerted- just as it would have been had she not paused right at this specific spot- and she would be now be dead. As it was, she squinted her eyes against the light and let the bright heat course over her body as it tested her genetic structure and mutagenic code for a match against those in its database.

The seconds ticked on like eons, and the heat from the light grew progressively hotter. 'It's taking too long, dammit...' Every instinct was urging her to flee, to run, to get the hell away from there, but she fought against those urges. If she had any chance, it was in abiding by the rules of the game, and that meant standing absolutely still and letting the system do its job.

She swallowed tightly, and as the light grew hotter, her breath grew tighter in her chest. Beads of persperation rolled down her forehead, between her breasts, down the small of her back, and she felt as if she were cooking in the thick black suit. Perversely, her scalp began to itch, fiercely, and it was agony not to scratch it. Cursing to herself, she just stood still, and let the light burn through her.

Finally, after an eternity of searing heat, the hellish light ceased as abruptly as it had began. She heard the slight click that she knew denoted permission to pass, and with a soft exhale, she stepped through, still-drab nails scratching the damnable itch, hard, and she almost sighed at the sweet sting that followed. She could tell her albino face was burnt slightly from the intense heat. 'Just lovely.'

Once through, she turned to the terminal on the other side. Pulling a tiny device out of one of the pockets on her belt, she slapped it onto the terminal, trusting more on her luck and Forge's skill than actual knowledge of the system. She'd spent a long year trapped here as a prisoner, true, a year when she'd had plenty of opportunity to observe the workings of this fortress, but she'd tried her best to put the memories of that year away. 'Yeah, and you've been real bloody successful at that, haven't you, Dom?' She thought sourly, but that dark thought was soon replaced with elation as the lights on the terminal flickered briefly only to be replaced with a calm, steady glow. 'All's well. Good.'

'Forge, you're a genius,' she thought, not for the first time, as the jammer interfaced with the security system, tricking it into inaction, disengaging this particular doorface without alerting the mainframe.

Satisfied that the device was functioning properly, Domino stopped, allowing herself to sag against the wall for a moment in relief, not wanting to think what might have happened had the system not let her through. What she might have lost. What she still had to do here tonight, and what she still might lose- she bit her lip, the wall of ice around her heart tightening as the memories threatened to overwhelm the fragile peace she had so recently found. 'I hate this friggin' place.' Swallowing tightly, she turned away from the memories and back to her team.

Acutely aware of the others' reactions to his behavior, Nate had snarled a final curse and consciously turned his back on Logan, effectively dismissing him. In years past, Cable knew this would have been an invitation for Logan's temper to surface, leading to the inevitable fight, the testing and honing of skills against a respected, if not particularly liked, opponent. Truth be told, unprofessional as it was, he would have welcomed the release right then. He was to be disappointed.

"I'm worried about her, too, Nate." Logan's deep voice resounded softly in his ears, and Cable closed his eyes against the genuine emotion in his old enemy's voice.

Turning around to face him, Cable forced an ill-fitting mask of calm back on his features and nodded curtly to the other man. "I know. It's just-" His words were forgotten as Logan raised a halting hand, head tilted slightly in a manner he'd come to associate with keen senses working. "Follow my lead," Logan whispered, and spun around mid-sentence and dropped into a defensive posture, teeth bared in a feral snarl.

The team moved instinctively into position, forming a tight phalanx, battle ready at once. The heavy silence was broken by a low, amused chuckle. "Should have known I couldn't sneak anything by you, old man." Domino stepped out of the rubble- quite literally- and looked over her team, satisfied at their reaction time. She wore the same cocky smile, the same confident stance, but Cable knew her masks. He looked directly in her eyes, and the haunted look lurking behind their vivid violet brightness terrified him. She met his gaze squarely, knowing his thoughts even without their link, and he was relieved to see the defiance spark in her stare.

Logan relaxed immediately, walking up to her and placing a heavy hand on her slim, muscled shoulder, chestnut eyes twinkling warmly. "Glad ta see ya, darlin'. Ya had us worried."

Domino took a shaky breath. "Worrying's a waste of time, Logan." She caught a glimpse of Kitty behind Logan, trying to bite back a smile, and she held back her own laughter. Apparantly she wasn't the only student he'd worn that particular phrase out with, then.

"Seems I've heard that somewhere before," he acknowledged with a smile. "How was it?"

She snorted. "The damn thing almost didn't let me through." Cable flinched, and she looked away, sliding ungloved fingers through perspiration-matted hair. "But hey- you know what they say about almost." No one spoke.

Pete's voice, rough with relief, broke the awkward silence "I'll give y' the cookie later, Dom. Were y' able t' disengage th' system? Can we get in?"

She grimaced. "Glad to see you, too, runt. Yeah, we're good to go. Enough lolligaggin'. Everybody remember the plan?" She made a show of checking her equipment again, giving her hands something to do, even as her mind raced at the possibilities and the actuality of what was about to happen.

Solemn nods greeted the inquiry. "Good. Psylocke, Shadowcat- you know you're with me. Wisdom, Logan, Cable- you know what to do. Storm-"

The regal leader of the X-men caught her gaze. "I am aware of what needs to be done. I will stand watch here."

Betsy's smooth voice interrupted "You expended a great deal of energy getting us here, Ororo. Are you certain it is safe to leave you alone?"

"I appreciate your concern, but I am fine. Go." Storm's weary voice held only a hint of its usual imperious tone, and she held herself a bit taller. Beside her, Kitty glanced sharply at her old friend but said nothing. Ororo's expression softened and, if anything, became a bit sad. "I have handled a great many things alone, Elisabeth. I will be fine."

Cable stepped forward, a flash of understanding on his face. "You have a headset, Ororo- the rest of us do, too. Notify the others at the slightest hint of trouble, got it?" Now that he knew his partner- dammit, his lover, he could at least admit to himself- was safe, Cable allowed himself to slip back into full soldier mode. "You're professionals. You know what to do. Meet back here in 15 minutes, with the scientists. If you're gonna take later than that, use the headsets." Adjusting his gear and weaponry yet again, he concluded "This is an in and out operation. Let's do it, people."

Satisfied with the obvious readiness of his team, he turned to Domino, and was rather proud of himself when his voice remained steady even when he looked directly at her. "Do you have anything else to add?"

She shook her head and smiled, a tired, weary twist of the lips. "Only-" She turned to address the group. "To have fun storming the castle, kids."

In the highest spires of the fortress- really only the top floor- a man sat alone in an opulent suite. Covered with tapestries and rugs of the finest imaginable weave, boasting furniture and art to make the wealthiest dealer quiver with envy, the rooms were a marvel of luxury and design and a sharp contrast to the spartan nature of the rest of the compound.

He lay sprawled across a carved dais, one bare muscled leg hooked over its side, golden head bent low over a leather bound book written in a language yet to be invented. Crystal blue eyes scanned the pages slowly, savoring favorite passages, and the madness that usually lurked in them was dimmed for just a moment.

The door creaked open slowly, and a massive figure stepped in the doorway, closing it behind him quietly. "Ummmm. . . Sir?" The deep voice whispered, slicing through the quiet of the room.

The muscles under the blond man's jaw worked tightly, and with great difficulty he murmured in a clear voice with just the slightest bit of a lisp "I thought I left orders never to be disturbed in here."

The hulking dark man at the door- easily twice the size of the man inside- turned ashen with fear at the tone. Stories of the boss' punishments were legendary. "I. . . I'm sorry, sir, I didn't. . .I mean...I thought-" He stammered, hoping that he could just deliver the message and leave, praying he'd have a chance to get away.

The man who for all intents and purposes was Tyler Dayspring closed his eyes, and a sharp sigh escaped through clenched teeth. "Ah. You thought. Jhonli, I don't pay you to think." Regretfully closing the book, he laid it to the side, soft hands caressing its cover lightly as he rose from his seat to cross the room in several quick strides, lithe as a cat.

He stood before the quavering guard, moire dressing robe hanging open, revealing a well muscled body lightly covered with fine gold hair and nothing else. "Now whatever in the world could be so important as to permit you to interrupt me in my rest? You know how hard I work, Jhonli. This place is the only respite I have from you barbarous cretins." The voice was silken, now, with threads of anger woven in, and even though he had to look up to the other man, it was apparant who was in danger here.

Summoning up the last of his courage, Jhonli replied quickly "Yessir, I know that, sir, but I was told that you were to be informed immediately if-"

"Ah, do shut up." Tyler closed his eyes "This is so much easier if you don't speak." Jhonli gasped aloud, feeling his thoughts being taken from him even as his eyes saw the images projected from the outstretched hand of the only psi in the compound- or rather, the only one whose powers would work through the very specifically tuned psionic null-field that surrounded the fortress. Jhonli gaped, and saw his memories shape and form, images of childhood, of his youth, of the love he'd known, and despite himself his dark eyes brimmed with moisture over the innocent he'd been.

Tyler watched the display, sensual lips curving slightly upward in the handsome face, chiseled features twisting with malicious glee as the next scenes continued to unfold. Jhonli knew what came next, and tried to turn away, but the iron grip on his mind controlled his body as well and forced his eyes to remain wide open. Then, as Tyler's mutant power displayed the scenes before him, it also slid itself deeper into his mind, subtly applying pressure here and there, until Jhonli was actually reliving the scenes as well as watching them as they played out before him.

"No. . . please. . ." He whimpered, and it was such a small sound to issue from so large a man. Tyler just smiled, and applied more pressure, feeling himself tense in pleasure as the lovely pain washed over all him.

Watching, reliving, Jhonli felt that innocence shift and warp as he remembered- no, as he more than remembered, as he experienced himself becoming increasingly involved in the dark life of the streets, his parents and his wife and his son distancing themselves from him as he grew increasingly more violent and abusive. He relived the biggest mistakes of his life, and felt his employer's mocking laughter through it all.

Tears running down his face, Jhonli fell to the ground and curled into fetal position as he felt himself do it all again, felt himself somehow burrow his way into the mercenary world, into this cold and heartless life he'd found for himself. Jhonli felt himself lose himself yet again, as he had so long ago, but this time, somehow, it was far, far worse. He saw himself- he felt himself- do things that as sick as he had been, he had never done- things he would never do, and though he knew they were not real, he *felt* himself experience them, felt the pain he caused, felt the indignities and violations he had inflicted. He gagged, wanting more than anything to vomit, but the man who had hold of him would not let his body do so. Tyler just stared at him, blue eyes alight with an almost sensual joy, relishing the pain, savoring the other man's misery. Jhonli glared at him weakly, unable to move, unable to think, unable to do anything except relive an altered past that was his own and yet was not.

His own memories were bad enough, but he'd faced them every time he closed his eyes. He'd come to terms with his past and what he had done, but this- this violation, this forced intrusion coated his thoughts with an oily malice, twisting even the little good that was left in him into a warped mockery of what it had been. Jhonli moaned.

Finally, Tyler yawned, dismissing his agony with the slightest wave of his hand. "This begins to bore me." Quickly, efficiently, he moved forward in his employee's mind until he caught the most recent memories, the incident that had caused the inexcusable interruption of his peace. He skimmed the memories quickly, not expecting anything of importance, and actually gasped aloud when he found what had brought the other man here. In the other man's bruised and battered mind he saw the screen the guard had been observing blink in alert and then saw him register that the system had detected a level-one priority mutagenic signatures. He read the corresponding code that indicated immediate, personal notification of the boss himself, and when he saw which particular signature it was, he felt himself gasp with surprise and sharp, sharp pleasure. 'So she's come back, after all.'

Almost as an afterthought, he released his hold on the other man, shivering in delight as implanted memories told him exactly what her presence here meant. 'She's come back. And if I know the old man, he's with her.' He felt his body, this new body grown from the cloning tanks on the bottom floor, grow even harder and throb with anticipation. 'And he'll get what he deserves for leaving me, and I'll pen the little bitch up again, so she won't get away, and this time it'll be for good. This time, Daddy dearest, you'll get what you deserve.'

Completely unaware of Tyler's thoughts, aware of nothing save the fact that his mind and body were once more his own, Jhonli tried to sit up. Crawling up from the floor, he shuddered, huge arms wrapped around himself as he rocked back and forth, a thin trail of spittle hanging from his mouth. Tyler ignored him, pacing back and forth with feverish excitement as plans and traps within traps spun in his thoughts.

Finally wresting control of himself, Jhonli shakily rose, interrupting Tyler for the second time that day. "Did you have to do that?" he spat, anger overriding his better judgment, so furious at the violation he'd suffered that he spoke without thought of the consequences. His voice rose to a loud roar. "You sick bastard, you could have just taken what you needed to know- did you have to do that? Did you have show me all I've lost, twist what little I have left until it was black and dirty, dirty as you are? What purpose did that serve?"

The jubilant expression remained, but the pale blue eyes slit in annoyance. "You presume too much, little man. You are fortunate to be alive- had you brought any other tidings than those you did, you would not be. And as for loss- we all have things which we have lost. I most of all." Implanted memories flitted through his mind- memories of betrayal, of the loss of his mother, of being left behind by his father, the one man who was supposed to protect him, of the endless torture ordered by Stryfe, of the madness that had slowly descended until the only thing that mattered to him was revenge. Revenge, and power enough to ensure that he'd never suffer like that again. Never again suffer as this heap of human waste was suffering right now.

"Oh, get up," Tyler commanded sharply. "We have work to do."

Staggering upright, unable to stand it any longer, Jhonli snarled "Fuck you, clone," and ran out the door. Tyler let him go, the mad light shining bright in his eyes as he began making the necessary preparations for his 'guests'. He sighed in annoyance at the way Jhonli had fled.

"Good help is so hard to find."


Part 50

"You're sure about this, darlin'?" Logan studied her, a quizzical look in his eyes. 'Something's wrong. Ro's givin' up too easy.'

"I am certain." Ororo nodded, swallowing hard against the chest-constricting terror that loomed at the edges of her perception. The main lobby of the fortress was huge, but her elemental senses told of the tight, enclosed hallways and tunnels underneath. She caught her breath, forcibly willing herself not to think of it. Her claustrophobia was difficult to combat on the best of days, and now- despite her stately protests to the contrary, she was exhausted. The trip past Tolliver's defenses, exhilarating and exciting as it had been, had wiped out most of her energy reserves and the previous emotional upheaval of Nathan's rejection and her argument with Kitty had sapped the rest of her strength.

She drew in a deep breath. "Go. You have precious little time."

Domino regarded the other woman for a brief moment, then snorted, hoisting a large rifle under one arm. "You heard the lady. Move out."

Cable paused, glancing from one woman to the other, then nodded tiredly. 'She looks as bad as I feel.' "If you haven't heard from us in 15 minutes, Storm, you know what to do."

Ororo didn't look at either of them. When she answered, her voice was cool and composed, hiding the bitterness she felt. She clasped her hands tightly together to hide the exhausted tremors. "I do. And as I said, you are wasting time." She smiled wanly at Betsy and gave Kitty's arm a brief squeeze as she turned to examine the room for a hiding place. Early thief's training immediately pointed out several places in the spartan lobby to hide herself and without a word to the rest of the team she ducked behind a stack of cartons to watch as they proceeded down a smaller side corridor.

Wisdom, shaking his head as he followed the route they had meticulously plotted, muttered under his breath "Bloody charmin', ain't she?"

Kitty, beside him, narrowed her eyes but didn't answer. As the team descended into the lower levels of the fortress, she moved effortlessly along with the others, body using skills so deeply ingrained that conscious thought was almost unneccesary. 'Just what the hell am I going to do about those two?' she wondered, knowing her mind should be on her task. 'Sooner or later, something's gonna have to give.'

They travelled in pairs, Logan and Domino taking point to lead them down a labyrinthine path into the bowels of the fortress to the research wing dormitories. There were no weak links in this team- all had extensive training in this type of operation and were well versed on the need for stealth. They moved quietly through the shadows towards their goal.

As they passed a barren entranceway, Kitty's eyes widened when she spotted a pair of Tolliver's lackeys coming up a side hall. Nudging Pete with her elbow, she spun flat against the wall. He did the same.

"I see 'em," her lover replied through clenched teeth. "Two targets spotted, Cable. Go ahead- we'll catch up." Pete spoke through the radio headset, wishing he could use his hotknives without running the risk of triggering Tolliver's alarms.

"Understood," Cable's deep voice sounded through the headset.

Falling behind for a moment, the pair waited until the guardsmen passed in front of them to turn the corner. Wisdom downed one with a quick, precise chop to the back of the neck while Kitty phased through him to grab the other by his hair and knock him out with a similar move. The bodies crumpled, never knowing their assailants. After dragging their lax forms into the shadows to hide them as best they could, Pete paused to stare at Kitty for a moment, wondering when his lover would wake up as to what sort of monster he really was, the cold horror of the life he'd chosen.

Despite all the missions and operations they'd worked together on, all the ugliness he knew she'd seen, some secret part of him still lived in fear she would someday truly realize the horror of what he did and denounce him for the murderer he was. He was to be disappointed today. She met his gaze, and in her eyes he saw nothing but an adrenaline rush and a hard compassion. She understood. God, she understood. Without a word, she reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently as she led him away from the limp bodies at their feet.

When they caught up with the rest of the group, Cable glanced back with a favoring nod. "Good work," he sent through the radio, and Pete ground his teeth to bite back a smart assed reply. 'Bloody condescending bastard-' Shaking it off to mere battle nerves, Pete turned his attention back to the mission.

The threat of a trap lurked in the forefront of all their minds, of course, but that potentiality had been there all along. In their line of business, that threat was a constant presence, an occupational hazard. Betsy's vision had made that abundantly clear, and after seeing first hand those horrible scenes he'd been tempted to call the whole thing off. When Domino had assured them she wanted to go on with the mission, however, Pete had little choice but to acquiesce. Jardine had impressed upon him how very important it was to get the Black Air escapees back before they could reconnect with their former Genoshan employers.

They'd known from the start that this op was a calculated risk- one he'd never liked the odds of, *especially* after Kitty had insisted on tagging along. After that wanker Braddock's sister's vision he'd liked it even less. Still, he reassured himself, he'd never known anyone who could play the long odds like his old merc buddy Dom. 'Like that'll help any if. . .' he didn't finish the thought, knowing full well the demons of guilt and self-recrimination that would consume him if something went wrong. He shook his head and refocused on the job.

When they'd gone several stories underground, pausing occasionally to take out unfortunate stray guards or workers, the small hallway dead-ended into a larger corridor that was lit with flickering fluorescent light. Domino suddenly stopped, and the tight, drawn look on his partner's features told Cable more about their location than any words could say.

'This is it.' His left eye flared brightly in the dimness, and despite the promises he'd made to her and all his intentions to the contrary he very nearly grabbed his partner by the arm to drag her out of this hellish place. 'Dammit, Nate, you know better than that-' He remembered the earnest look, the veiled warning in her eyes that morning after their lovemaking when she'd cautioned him against just this kind of thinking. He knew better- he'd trusted this woman to watch his back for twenty years. She could take care of herself. Still, though- all the cold logic in the world counted for very little when measured against the primal man inside him that wanted nothing more than to keep her safe.

Nathan was doing his best to hide it, but even through their much dampened bond Domino felt his struggle. Her shoulders stiffened. Forcing down the unreasonable anger- anger she knew was not totally directed at him- she gave the arranged hand signal that told the others that they'd finally reached their destination.

Looking around the cold stone walls, for a brief moment Domino was overwhelmed with the force of memory. Sensing rather than seeing Nathan's reaction, she had to bite her lip in order to maintain the stone cold facade. 'This is exactly what I was afraid of- enough!' Slapping another coat on her veneer of indifference, she made the quick hand signal that denoted this was the place to break into smaller units.

Cable, barely listening to her, didn't say a word. Snuffing out the fury at what he knew had happened here he stored it away until he could deal with it more properly. Images from Betsy's vision flared white-hot again in his mind, and it was all he could do not to reach out and stop her when Domino smoothly turned and motioned for Psylocke and Shadowcat to follow her down the hall.

Without Cable's telepathy, it had been decided that Logan station himself closest to the connecting hall so that his keen senses to give first alert of any approaching personnel. As the grizzled Canadian settled into his guard position, Wisdom and Cable followed the older man's lead. The latter's face was as cold and expressionless as Logan had ever seen it. 'He don't like this at all.' Watching the three graceful figures of women he held dear slip down the cold hallway towards their goal, his shaggy eyebrows dipped. 'An' for once I agree with him.' It was a sobering thought.

Standing at the dead end of the hallway, Domino stood over the limp bodies of the two unfortunate guards that had been assigned watch over the scientists' dormitory. Obviously not of the highest caliber to begin with- Domino remembered that Tolliver only hired top dollar mercs like Wilson for his outside jobs- these two had been lulled by the boredom of the monotonous task and were easy prey for such professionals as they.

Standing outside a gunmetal gray door, Domino took a deep breath and raised her gas mask to her face, adjusting the elastic strap around her head. Remembering the plan, Kitty and Elisabeth did the same. 'No smart remarks, no color commentary- nice to work with people who actually know what low-key means, for a change,' Domino thought with grim amusement, thinking of loud mouthed brightly colored X-Force. 'I love those kids, but when we get back I think I'm going to hold a few refresher courses on the art of stealth-'

As planned, she took a small olive colored sphere out of one of the pouches on her belt and gave it to Kitty, who calmly bent down to inconspicuously phase her hand through the bottom of the door and stick the grenade in the room. She counted to thirty, slowly, making sure her mask was securely tightened. When time was up, Betsy nodded, and they calmly opened the door.

Through a thick pinkish haze, they were greeted with the sight of about fifteen bleary-eyed people lounging around a small commons area. Some sat- now lay- on a pair of ragged brown velour couches, while others were eating off cafeteria style trays at a long rectangular table. One man's head lay face down in what appeared to be potato salad.

A quick count- sixteen people, geniuses all, stared up at her like a gathering of village idiots. 'Like clockwork,' Domino snorted. 'Today's special, roast beef with a side order of happygas. They'll be as obedient as little lambs now.' Remembering all too vividly what these people were capable of, her amusement sharply faded. 'Vicious, sadistic little lambs who'd like nothing more than to vivisect the wolf.' A thought came to her. 'Pete's intel said eighteen- there's two more floating around somewhere, but we don't have time to hunt them down right now. This'll have to do.'

Kitty surveyed the room admiringly, waving a thin hand through the air. The air swirled in rosy-hued currents. "Lot easier than fighting them, eh?" she grinned. "I'm checking out the other rooms. You two handle the roundup."

Beside her, Psylocke reached into her pack to pull out a skien of thin, nigh unbreakable nylon rope and a double handful of thin ties. Succumbing to the extremely suggestive effects of the incredibly potent- and highly illegal- narcotic gas, the researchers smiled beatifically as Domino and Psylocke bound their hands and gagged them with, eyes glazed and perfectly compliant as quick hands efficiently linked rope through their constraints.

Kitty emerged from the side room. "Clear."

Domino shook her head. 'This is way too easy.' Shrugging her shoulders, she jerked her head into the hall. Psylocke led the string of captives out, herding them like cattle. This task accomplished, a heavy sense of foreboding seeped into her like a cold wind, and Domino took a deep breath. She knew what she had to do.

She still had Tolliver's twisted laboratory to deal with, and now that the primary goal was accomplished- now that they could make sure these twisted bastards wouldn't be able to finish their perverted work- it was time to take it out. Remembering Betsy's vision, she hesitated, then pushed her fears aside. Though they were extracting the team of Mengeles, their work remained. It had to be destroyed, and it was up to her to do it. After tonight's extraction, Tolliver's internal security would almost certainly be upgraded to the same level as his external system. This was her only chance.

Nodding to Psylocke to lead, she fell behind the line as Kitty and Elisabeth, still wearing their masks for protection against whatever lingering molecules of the potent mixture remained in the closed-in hall, herded the grinning researchers towards the others in the team and back to the outside. With a flick of her wrist, she activated their internal com units. "Alpha phase completed," she spoke quietly.

From where he waited outside the hall, Cable's deep baritone was husky with relief. "Copy."

For a moment she had been tempted to call him, tell him what she planned, but the hidden emotion in that single word strengthened her resolve. Domino closed her eyes, remembering the lab. Nathan should never see the inside of that hellish place- even with their link dimmed, almost completely surpressed, she could still feel the maelstorm of emotions he was fighting as he waited for her outside. He was coming apart at the seams. 'Damn, babe, not handling this well at all, are you?'

She swallowed, remembering glimpses of his nightmares that had occasionally seeped into her own over the years- horrific visions of future death and destruction that she now knew were dream reflections of the stomach churning punishments his twin Stryfe had inflicted upon him after his Clan's defeat in the future. Thinking of the night before and the fragile peace they'd finally found, she shook her head firmly. 'No. I can protect him from this much at least.'

As the captives turned down a corner back towards Nathan and the others, Domino took a deep breath and adjusted her transmitter to speak to just Kitty and Psylocke. "I think I heard something back there," she lied. "I'm going to go check it out." Psylocke, in the front of the line, frowned.

Motioning for Kitty to go on without them, she slipped back to stand by Domino for a moment. "I'm going with you," she spoke on a private bandwith.

"There's no need," the former mercenary answered hotly, knowing she didn't have time to argue the point. Though the laboratory was relatively nearby, she'd need every spare second she could get to take it out and get back to the team before Nathan came after her.

Betsy just shook her head. "I've already seen it, remember?" she spoke quietly. Domino paused, torn. She didn't have time to waste like this, and dammit, Psylocke was right. She didn't entirely trust the other woman's precognitive vision- the telepath herself had said it was only a *possible* future- but she was entirely too pragmatic to discount it entirely. Despite her bravado, the vision had shaken her. Backup might change that frightening potentiality. And the woman *had* proven trustworthy, keeping the worst of what she'd seen from Cable and the others.

"Can you keep what you see to yourself?" Domino asked gruffly, and was relieved when Psylocke nodded.

"Of course."

A heartbeat pause. "Well, come on, then."

A hurried conference with Kitty, and then they slipped back the way they had come, back into the shadows.

"They WHAT?" Cable yelled into the radio transmitter, stark anger mingled with fear in his voice. Kitty winced.

"I *told* you, Cable, Domino heard something behind us and she and Betsy went to check it out. They said they'd catch up with us-" Kitty's high, clear voice sounded troubled. Beside her, one of the drugged captives giggled.

Cable stood very still. 'That flonquin' IDIOT! She KNOWS better than to make a stupid rookie mistake like that- this was supposed to be an in-and-out op-' He ground his teeth. "I'm going after them."

"Not before we do the job," Logan growled, acutely aware that there was more going on here than he could see on the surface. He'd seen Betsy's vision, too- and he had no desire to leave either of the women behind. 'Especially after last night,' he thought, then brushed that distracting thought away. They had a job to do, and all were aware of what would happen if they failed. "We need to GO, Nate. Now."

Cable spun to tower over the stocky Canadian. The frustration over waiting for Dom, alone in there with God knows what, after what she'd been through- the anger at Logan for doing what he'd been too cowardly to do himself- the guilt over losing Tyler in the first place- it all culminated in a dangerous wave. He was ready to kill. "Logan, don't press me on this. Not you, not here, not now-"

Looking around Tyler's- Genesis, as Logan chose to think of him- fortress, Logan remembered the agony he'd suffered at Cable's son's hands, and the anger overrode the remorse he felt at killing Jeannie's blood- in essence if not in actuality. He growled under his breath. "Don't you push *me*, Nate. I ain't in the mood." Clenching his square hands into hard fists, he glared up at the much taller man. There was a long moment of silence.

Before physical violence could ensure, Pete Wisdom surprised them all by stepping between the straining men, thin face resolute. In a harsh voice that held no hint of his usual mockery, he barked in a disgusted voice. "Stop this shit right now. We ain't got time for it. We've been lucky so far, but we need to get these bastards," he grimaced at their slack-faced captives, "back to th' plane."

Turning away, Wisdom couldn't meet Cable's eyes, feeling the weight of responsibility for the mission. It had been *his* call that led them here, and he knew damn well that if it were *he* who had to decide between goin' after Kitty and the mission, well. . . He glanced at his lover, who was watching it all, compassion shining in her warm brown eyes.

'Damn him, he's right,' Nathan agonized. He'd seen firsthand in the twisted future what dangers rogue geneticists such as these posed. He'd seen what it had done to the human gene pool in his time, and couldn't let it happen again here. This, after all, was what they'd come here for. Nathan closed his eyes- even more so, this was exactly why he'd abandoned his shattered future to come here for- to prevent atrocities like this that would cause that time to come to pass.

A soul chilling thought struck him. In his fury at her leaving like this, he'd forgotten about it for a moment. 'Oath, what if Betsy's vision *was* true, and Dom's alone back there?' With that one horrifying possibility, his decision was made. There was no way he could fight that future without her. "I'm going after her," he repeated through clenched teeth. "Take these worthless wastes of carbon and get the hell out of here. Wait for us at the plane." Before anyone could answer, he was gone.

A quiet moment later, Kitty sighed. "You heard the man," she told them, then squared her slim shoulders to follow Logan as he led them back to the surface.

Two short bursts of plasma fire, and the two men guarding the lab went down. Domino didn't even blink, just stepped over their bodies, bending down to snatch the keycard from around the smaller one's neck. A few moments later, the wide steel doors slid open with a hiss.

It was dark inside. A spill of light from the open door fell into the dim room, silouhetting the two women for a brief moment against its fluorescent glow. Frowning, Psylocke quickly stepped into the shadows, ignoring their faint call. Domino, half a step behind her, once more reached into one of the numerous pouches on her suit and pulled out a pair of streamlined nightvision goggles- a staple of the trade- to slip them carefully over her face. She spared a glance at Psylocke, but the other woman appeared not to need her goggles- she was looking around the room through the apparent darkness with much the same expression Domino knew she herself was wearing.

The room was completely empty, devoid of human activity. Though the loud drone of the ever present machines was constant, there was none of the usual din that Domino remembered all too clearly from the time she'd spent here. They were the only people in the room- there were no guards, no researchers, not even the few stray sanitation workers that usually lingered around at this time of night.

"Something's wrong," Domino whispered into her headset.

Psylocke arched an elegant eyebrow and whispered dryly "Really?"

Domino snorted and walked slowly into the room. The place was just as she remembered it- huge cylindrical tubes lining the wall, opening up to adjoining rooms full of tiny cubicles and cages and tubes and dishes and steel tables and sharp knives and soiled leather straps. The only difference was that now it was empty- completely and totally empty. Even the thick clear cylinders, still tinged with a viscous hint of lime green, appeared abandoned.

The floor under her feet was sticky, and as she turned to look at a particularly gruesome cage she almost bumped into a large, steel table. Taking a closer look at it, she gasped. This was the table she'd seen herself on in Betsy's vision. This was where she'd seen Tyler- a stark wave of nauseated clarity swept over her. A voice from deep inside her warned "GET OUT OF HERE NOW."

"Abort mission," she whispered through her headset, fumbling at her boot. Her plans to look around and see just how far the bastards had gotten with their work dissipated. All that mattered was destroying the foul place. Her hands fumbled uncharacteristically as she pulled out the powerful explosives she'd spirited away in her suit, leaving the substance in her bootheel in case she needed it later. This required more destruction than that small amount could manage. "Get out of here, Betsy- Make sure Nate and the others get out!"

Psylocke's eyes widened as she, too, recognized the scene. Nodding curtly, she moved with liquid grace towards the exit, pausing only for a brief moment to look back at the other woman. "Domino-"

Domino was reaching into another pocket for det cord. "Go!" she hissed, cutting off the amount she needed. "You've got fifteen minutes- get the hell out of here!" Reluctant to leave the other woman behind, Psylocke tilted her head curiously and peered deeper into the shadows as if looking for something just beyond the periphery of her perception. Domino cursed "You're distracting me, dammit! We can sort through the rubble later. GO!"

Betsy ground her teeth and did so, darting out of the thick steel doors they'd just come through to dash down the hall towards the others. Domino, fingers working in a pale blur, finished constructing the bombs and sprinted to the back of the room to tape the finished product to the central computer mainframe.

Without warning, the thick steel doors slammed shut.

Domino, heart hammering in her chest, stood and whirled around, letting her luck instinctively aim the rifle she'd kept tucked under one arm. Before she could pull the trigger, though, her arm froze in midair. She felt a familiar, oily mind brush her own, take control of her body and her thoughts. She couldn't move. Struggling against the iron hold, her lips parted in a twisted snarl but no words came out.

A door from the back of the lab opened. Tyler Dayspring stepped out.

'Domino,' he skillfully insinuated himself into her mind, ripping through her mental shielding like wet tissue, caressing her thoughts with lascivious malice.

'Welcome home, my pet. I knew you couldn't stay away."

Part 51

"You heard me!" Psylocke hissed into the radio headset, flickering lights from above casting strange shadows as she swiftly ran down the corridor away from the research wing. "You have fifteen minutes to get those captives out of here before those explosives go off!"

"Where you at, Betts?" Logan interrupted.

"I just turned the corner of the main corridor after the scientists' wing. I'll catch up with you all, just get them out of here!"

"Where's Dom?" That, predictably, was Cable, voice calm despite the sudden drop in the pit of his stomach.

"She should be right behind me. We're on our way." Betsy paused outside the hall, watching for any guard activity and waiting for Domino. The dark lab had surprised them both, and she applauded the other woman's decision to get out as soon as she could. "You're wasting time-"

"All right, Betsy, we're taking them out. We'll be with the PACRAT outside waiting for you." Kitty's clear voice was confident and sure as she ended the transmission. Since they'd only need to beat a hasty retreat out of the fortress, the plane had been programmed to pick them up outside the castle upon remote command when they'd accomplished their mission. 'Would have been a hell of a lot easier if we could have done this coming in, too,' Kitty thought before picking up her pace. "Hurry up, little dogies," she commanded the all-too-willing captives, ignoring Pete's mumbled cursing and Logan's stark, expressionless mask.

Back near the scientists' wing, Betsy leaned against the wall in the shadows and waited.

"I'm almost there, Psylocke," Cable's voice sounded on a private bandwith, deep and worried. "Is Dom with you? She's not answering my messages."

"What?" Betsy stood up, taking the few steps back to the smaller corridor and running lightly down it. At the end of the hall, she saw the heavy steel doors locked shut, the two guards still lying comatose at its base. Her blood ran cold.

"Nathan," she transmitted through the link, struggling to keep her voice calm and modulated. "I think you need to get over here, *now*."

Cable didn't need his telepathy to hear the sudden catch in Betsy's voice. He doubled his already frenetic speed, barrelling through the dark hallways at a sprinter's pace, thinking of nothing save getting to wherever it was Domino was and getting them both the hell out of there.

While his lackeys propped the tall silver table against the wall, Tyler watched as his favorite trophy struggled against the tight steel bands encircling her wrists and ankles. Leaning back in one of the swivel-back chairs, long legs propped up on a nearby desk, Tyler only smiled as she hurled foul curses at him in a dozen different languages.

'Shit shit shit shit shit.' Tyler had psionically held her immobile until she'd been restrained, but now he only watched as she flailed helplessly against the bonds, testing the power of the tight steel bands. 'I've been so hell-bent on keeping Nate away from this place that I was stupid enough to fall right into this rat-bastard's trap,' she cursed herself. 'Oh, Nate,' she closed her eyes briefly, wishing not for the first time that she was a telepath herself. 'Get the hell away from here. Don't come back to find this-'

"Well, well, well." Tyler's thin voice interrupted her thoughts. "Isn't this a pretty sight? Reminds me of the good old days, my dear."

Spitting out a final epithet, Domino's lips curled in a contemptuous snarl. 'Use your brain here, girl. Stay calm. Goad him into doing something stupid-' Schooling her expression into one of disdain, she actually managed a bored yawn. "You're pathetic." The words dripped scorn.

"Excuse me?" Tyler's voice was deceptively mild.

"Do you *honestly* think you scare me?" She pushed the fear deep within her, drawing on the reserves of confidence and light replenished and built up the night before. In a strange way it was actually a relief to finally confront the monster that had haunted her nightmares for so long. "We've been here before. I'll escape. . . again. And you'll die. . . *again*. What makes you think this is any different?"

Tyler's expression didn't change, but his eyes grew harder. "I should scare you, Bait. All I have to do is keep you alive until the old man gets here." He cocked his head slightly, searching, and a very satisfied look crossed his face. "Ah, yes. He's coming." A snort "How predictable."

Domino said nothing, only fought for breath as her lungs suddenly refused to work. 'Oh, Nate, no. . .What is he going to try to do to you?' Glaring up at Tyler, she smiled sweetly. "You are so dead."

"Been there, done that," he shrugged. "But you, my darling, had better get used to the idea. After I use you to lure Daddy dearest here, there'll be no more need to keep you around." He leered "Unless you can think of another purpose to serve."

She laughed mockingly, hiding the sudden pain in her chest. "A *clone* of a third-rate low-rent gamma-level telepath tryin' to fill daddy's shoes? A Xerox copy of a weak original who couldn't cut it in the first place? Not on your best day, you watered-down genejoke."

His eyes narrowed. 'We'll just see about that,' he told her.

Domino held back a gasp as Tyler roughly delved into her mind, ripping open barely-healed scars as he probed her thoughts. 'Watered down, eh? Let us test that little theory.'

She bit her lip but didn't make a sound, just glared at him. Tyler, focusing his telepathic abilities to a laser sharp intensity, easily cut through her battered shields and tore open the psychic wounds that had only last night begun to heal. Picking out old doubts and insecurities, the pain she thought she'd finally put behind her, he cooly revived them, unlocking dark doors to flood her mind with demon images of terror and loss and suffering, augmenting them with a skill the original Tyler had never possessed. She trembled, glaring at him, feeling the dark miasma flood against her defenses to threaten the weak peace she'd found the night before.

'No,' she thought weakly. 'You can't do this. No.' Clutching at the golden thread gleaming dimly in her thoughts, the confidence in herself that she had lost and regained so many times, she garnered her strength to resist the hypnotic pull of the darkness and the grim voices inside her. Her psibond with Nathan, dampened as it was by Tyler's psionic null field and their own conscious decision, still curled itself warmly through the strongest corner of her mind, shining and exuding strength, providing a foundation for her resistance. 'You can't hurt me.'

Suprised at the unexpected surge of strength, Tyler pried closer into her thoughts. 'This is new,' he purred, thinking he'd found some new internal wellspring, not recognizing the golden thread for what it was. Examining it closer, Tyler's astral form spasmed in incredulous anger. 'A. . . psibond? With. . . him?'

Tyler leapt to his feet and turned his back on her, and she could see his shoulders shuddering from emotion he couldn't quite contain. 'Unfaithful bastard,' she caught a stray thought from the young man, one he hadn't intended she hear. '*Forever*, eh? Forever for her just like forever for me. Deserted her, too, just like he did. . .me. . .'

She saw a fleeting image of an auburn haired woman- an older version of the young fighter she'd met when Blaquesmith had brought her to the future with Nathan. "Aliya," she breathed aloud, recognizing Nathan's dead wife, Tyler's mother.

"Don't you dare speak her name, whore!" Tyler turned to face her, fair skin flooded with color. Fists clenched at his sides, he loomed over her, madness gleaming in his pale blue eyes. Cupping her chin roughly, he slid into her thoughts once more, physical contact facilitating the merge. This time there was no coolness or detachment in the touch as he angrily plunged into her mind, ripping and tearing through her thoughts and memories with an intentionally jagged blade of malicious pleasure. His eyes glazed over as with barbed thoughts he pried her away from the safety and security of the bond, the hard core of confidence and self worth that she had worked so hard to establish. Clawing through her thoughts, he wrenched control away from her and exposed the link.

'You're as faithless as he is,' he snarled, tearing open her most recent, most precious memories. Using his own particular augmented mutant powers, he projected her thoughts into the air, giving shape and form to the images in her mind. Skimming through her memories quickly, he laughed, a short, harsh sound. "I thought so. You'll wish you never met us, bitch." Tyler smiled with cruel satisfaction. "You only *think* you've known pain."

"Fuck you, asshole," Domino spat at him, but was unable to do anything else but watch as she saw the previous night's events projected from Tyler's trembling outstretched hand. Try as she might to close her mind to him, the traitorous images still came.

She saw herself come out of the pub to argue with Nathan, she saw their walk back to the hotel, she saw them argue in the suite. She *felt* it, too, relived the memories as if she were back there again, and heard in her mind Nathan's deep, agonized voice pleading with her to tell him, for once, just how she felt. Hanging there on Tyler's wall, she re-experienced all the frustration and the longing and the desire she'd felt only the night before. The golden glow inside her flared brightly against the bruised interior of her mind. She clung to it defiantly as the battered images washed through her.

Cable felt something dark and oily brush by the edges of his perception, but the psi dampening field around the fortress was far too strong to pin it down. He tilted his head, extending stunted senses, but felt nothing more than the same ominous dark presence seeping through his mind through the dampened bond he shared with Domino. The bond itself, despite the null field, was glowing brighter than it had since before they had dampened it, and Cable reached for it to use it as a beacon to draw him deeper into the castle towards her. He turned another corner, plowing down a staircase, heart thundering in his chest. He was almost there.

Tyler's lips curved downward in a vicious frown, and with a slight wave of his hand Domino felt Nathan's twisted 'son' burrow even deeper into her mind, applying skillful pressure here and there until Domino saw the images subtly shift and change before her very eyes and in her thoughts. She saw and felt her memories of the night before warp and twist until the warmth and love she and Nathan had shared became nothing but a cold, tainted mockery of intimacy. Even though she knew the vision/memories were not real, she *felt* herself experience them, felt the golden bond between curl up and begin to wither away from the corruption.

Before her eyes, the projection Nathan loomed over her, and his handsome, anxious, loving expression shifted into a hard, cruel mask that reminded her of. . . 'Creed?' some part of her remembered, and wept. Where in reality- the reality she *knew* existed, the memory she clung to- she had cried out to Nathan for love and understanding, and had been reciprocated in kind, this time it was far, far different. She still cried out- she watched herself, saw her debase herself before him, beg him not to go- but this time she was met with mocking laughter and worse.

"No..." She closed her eyes, but saw it all anyway, and the psibond shuddered under the strain. Tyler, manic grin back firmly in place, telepathically wrenched her eyes back open so she could *see* what she was remembering so vividly.

She watched and relived it all as the memories progressed. She saw the consumation of her relationship with her partner warp from an expression of utmost love and trust into something horrid, ugly and tainted. She saw the gentleness and passion sour into domination and control, a sating of physical desire edged only with contempt. She watched as they coupled like animals, brutally, without care or concern or anything remotely approaching any feeling other than disgusted lust.

Clutching onto her own cold hard sanity, the real Domino grasped onto the weakened psibond, still clinging to it for support. "This isn't real," she spat, nauseated. "That *isn't* me. That *isn't* him."

Tyler merely raised a questioning brow. "Isn't it?" he replied mildly, and turned his attention back to the projected display. "Do you really think he- anybody- could actually care for someone like you?"

"..." She couldn't think of an answer. Unable to avert her eyes, she only watched as the images grew progressively worse.

"You're his slut now in reality as well as thought," Tyler told her, face still flushed with anger now mixed with a sick desire. "Live with it." He twisted his hold even tighter, savoring the horror and the pain as the coldness changed into something far darker, far more sinister. Dredging memories out of the deepest recesses of her mind, Tyler began again, giving her nightmares shape in the form of the one man she trusted most, turning Cable's actions into a soiled amalgamation of all the pain and abuse she'd suffered in a life full of it. The memories wore on, and the images grew very ugly indeed.

'He's right, you know,' a voice from deep inside told her dully. 'After all you've done, you were a fool to believe you could have anything else. This is all you deserve.'

"NO!" Domino gagged, and suddenly the strain was too much to bear. Inside her mind the golden glow cracked and shattered into a thousand razor sharp pieces, exploding outward to slice her conscious mind to ribbons. Tyler watched, and smiled, one gentle hand caressing her cheek as she opened her mouth to scream.

Barrelling down the last corridor that connected with the scientists' dormitories, Cable suddenly doubled over with pain. His head thudded with electric agony as suddenly, without warning, the psibond exploded. Despite the null field his sensitive psion's mind shrieked in anguish at the bleeding, gaping hole in his thoughts. Nathan fell to the ground, curling into a fetal ball. Unable to move or think, he couldn't do anything but scream as part of his soul was wrenched away a second time.

Even with the null field, Psylocke felt a wash of agony even as she heard the raw cry just down the hall. Clutching her hands to her head, she followed the source of the pain to find Nathan just around the corner on his knees, bent over with both hands over his ears. Blood was streaming from his ears and his nose, and he looked up through his tears to see her crouched to help him.

"Oh, no, Nathan," she took his arm, dark violet eyes murky with fear. "What is it? Tell me!"

He didn't answer, just closed his eyes and staggered to his feet, drawing on every bit of the stoicism that had made him a legend in the future and the past. "Help me. . . get to her," he whispered hoarsely, left eye blazing as he staggered to his feet.

Knowing nothing she could say would ease the agony radiating from the man, Psylocke only nodded and helped him stand straighter, guiding him back down the hall until they stood in front of the closed silver doors.

"She's. . in there," Cable grunted, leaning against the wall with one hand.

"I know, Nathan," Betsy told him gently, thinking quickly over their alternatives. Kitty could have easily phased them through, but she should be almost out of the fortress by this time. They had no way of knowing how close Domino was to the door, so explosives were out.

'You could always teleport through the shadows-' Psylocke looked away, feeling once more the call of the shadows that still lurked within her. She'd defeated them before and regained her soul- but at such a price. She didn't know if she had the strength to do it again. Shuddering at the thought of losing herself to the inky blackness, a part of her was so, so tempted to return to the void, to give into the constant pull that still tormented her dreams. It would be so easy to give into their call, to slip back into their velvet depths and lose herself forever . . . and she could help her teammates . . .

'NO!' Betsy jerked her head away, beads of cold perspiration forming on her forehead. 'I cannot, I *will* not, not even for this. One day it may be necessary, but not today. Not when there are other options.' Rifling through her pack, she pulled out a small silver cylindrical device.

Glancing worriedly at her companion, she told him "This will take a few moments, but we should be able to cut through the locking mechanism."

Cable nodded, eyes closed tightly against even the dim light of the hallway. "Good. . ."

Before the British telepath could activate the small laser, the door emitted a sharp hiss. Cable, on the other side of the doors, immediately dropped into defensive position, and Betsy barely had time to duck and roll out of the way.

There was no barrage of gunfire, no wave of soldiers to attack them. Instead, loud, mocking laughter emerged from the laboratory.

Beside her, Cable paled. Steeling himself against whatever was inside, he stepped into the doorway, Betsy right behind him.

Inside the now diamond-bright laboratory, Domino hung unconscious from the wicked looking silver table from Psylocke's vision. Tyler stood beside her, hands behind his back, seemingly at perfect ease.

The man who had been Tyler Dayspring looked directly into his father's haunted eyes and challenged "Step into my parlor. . . " Part 52

Note: This one's for Alicia. She knows why.

Cable swallowed tightly, unable to do anything but stare at the scene before him in abject horror. He looked up with haunted eyes to see Tyler laughing, arms stretched open wide. The golden child he'd adored with all his heart, the man who'd grown into the monster he'd buried in Kentucky, now lived again, cruelty glinting in his crystal blue eyes.

'You know damn well that's not him,' Nathan chided himself angrily, unable to look away from the handsome blond man smiling so brightly at him. He looked identical to Tyler- so close to the original as to take his breath away. 'It's a clone, dammit, it's not him, it's not Tyler. . .' Memories of his son's funeral surged back to him in a powerful flood. Cable closed his eyes against the pain.

Intellectually, he knew all about cloning. He owed his very life to the procedure- not as directly as once he thought, but as the son of a clone he knew better than to harbor the prejudices some of his Clansmen had against those duplicated, not born. Even now, knowing the havok his own clone, Stryfe, had inflicted upon humanity, he knew better than to blindly hate and fear the procedure with the hot fervor his people had. An odd thought struck his mind, and he laughed sharply, without any trace of humor. 'It's more than that. The clone of the son of the clone of the son of a clone. . .' The laugh almost twisted into a sob.

". . ." he began, but couldn't find adequate words to describe the maelstrom of emotions he was feeling. Instead, he focused his vision again on the figure hanging behind the man. Strapped to the same silver table they'd seen in Betsy's vision, Domino hung unconscious, her head lolling on her chest, a stream of blood trickling down her chin. What part of her pale skin that wasn't covered by her body armor was already mottled with livid bruises. Cable felt every muscle in his body tighten in anger, and it took every ounce of self-possession he had not to leap on the thugs standing on either side of her and break their flonqing necks. He glared at them instead, and was perversely pleased to see both take an involuntary step backwards.

The man who thought of himself as Tyler Dayspring leaned casually against the table, eyes fixed on his father. Only the slightest tautness of his features betrayed the flurry of emotions he felt at the sight of the massive silver haired man standing before him, appearing completely impassive, as always. Tyler chuckled to himself- the old man might be able to put on a good front, but he could feel it- his heightened telepathic senses easily picked up the guilt and the anger, the helplessness and pain. His lips curled up in a humorless smile.

"Glad you could join us, Father."

The two men stared at each other a long moment, taking the measure of the other. Tyler broke contact first with an uneasy chuckle, looking away for a moment. When he again faced Cable, the set of his features and the cruelly smug expression on his face looked vaugely familiar. With a sudden drop in his stomach, Cable recognized where he'd seen it before.

'The sins of the fathers,' he thought bleakly, fists clenched tightly to his side. 'Even now, coming back to haunt me.'

It was then that Tyler noticed Betsy. Sneering at the young man with every bit of the considerable arrogance her aristocratic upbringing could muster, Psylocke returned his cold stare silently.

Tyler turned to address her. "Psylocke- that *is* your silly little 'code' name, isn't it?" He tilted his head curiously. "What does that mean, anyway? What *is* a Psylocke?" Without waiting for her to answer, he sighed. "I'm terribly sorry, Psylocke, but I need a few words alone with my father. I'm sure you understand." A brief look of concentration passed over his face, and Nathan felt a harsh telepathic ripple shoot across the astral plane.

Betsy crumpled instantly to the floor. Cable, beside her, jumped, a shaken look on his face. His head snapped around, and he stared at the man he still thought of as Tyler incredulously. 'A telepath of Betsy's caliber, felled so easily? Tyler wasn't capable of that!'

Nodding to a guard to pull Betsy's fallen body out of the way, Tyler turned back to face Nathan. "Now then. Where were we?"

Cable stood stock-still, face once more drawn in a stoic mask. Wrenching his gaze away from Domino, he asked "Who are you?"

The clone snorted. "Who do you think I am? Tyler Dayspring, of course." His eyes narrowed. "Your son."

"My son died," Nathan whispered. "He died, and he's at peace now. I don't know who you are."

"How convenient for you." He sighed. "True, I was not born of a woman. It doesn't matter. I *am* Tyler Dayspring." He leaned forward. "Don't mistake me, *Father*. I remember everything. I know what you did to me- how you left me behind. That's why I'm here- to rectify the mistake I made earlier. I should have killed you the last time we met. It would have saved us all a lot of trouble."

Tyler smiled sweetly, a disconcerting contrast to his grim words. "Believe me when I say this- when I'm done, you'll wish it had been you left on that field that day." The words dripped malice.

Cable paled. "You. . .remember? You. . .know?"

"Full memory implant, *Father*. Technology derived from Sinister's primitive Marauder tanks. Rest assured, I'm still me. New flesh or not, I'm still me."

Cable ran a hand through silver hair, not wanting to puzzle through the emotions. Pete had told him this was the case, but he hadn't quite believed it. Now, though- the mannerisms, the speech, even down to the cadence of his voice- it *was* Tyler. He hadn't realized how much it would affect him until he stood here now, having a conversation with. . . "Tyler- son- what are you doing?" The words came out in a rusty whisper, his voice low and shaky.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Tyler smiled brightly, all traces of malice gone. His voice was as pleasant as if he were inquiring about a neighbor's health. "I'm ruining your life, old man. Just like you ruined mine." He glanced dismissively over his shoulder at the unconscious Domino hanging from the upright table. "This is just the beginning."

'Dom,' Cable groaned, feeling the gaping black emptiness where her light had been throb painfully in his mind. Staring past Tyler at Domino's abused figure, Nathan thought dully 'I caused this. If I'd never lost Tyler, she'd never have suffered this the first time- and he'd never have become the monster that could do this to her the first time, never have had the hate to remake himself to finish the job.'

His eyes blurred, and for a moment the image of a fat tow-headed toddler happily burbling babytalk superimposed itself over the leering man before him. Cable jerked his head away, eyes closed tightly to squeeze out the image. Memories of the gentle child Tyler had been warred with the stark images of the atrocities he'd seen in Domino's mind, the scene before him now. Underneath it all, filling his soul with blood, was the pain caused by the jagged edges of the hole in his soul where the bond with Domino had been. He bit back the anger again, forcing himself to look past it to try again to reason with Tyler. He owed it to the boy, owed it to Jenskot- owed it to himself. He very pointedly did not look at Domino.

Cable cleared his throat, ignoring the red dots of anger that made his vision swim to raise open hands in supplication. The clone- no, the *man* before him couldn't help the circumstances of his entrance into this world. All Nathan could do was try to reason with him now that he was here. "Tyler, son- you don't have to do this. I *know* this isn't you- I know the man I raised wouldn't voluntarily do something like this." He begged, throwing all traces of dignity and authority away for even the slightest chance that he might reach whatever remained of his son's essence trapped in that handsome, hate-filled shell.

Tyler's smile twisted into an ugly sneer. "The man you raised or the boy you left behind?"

Cable closed his eyes, wracked with real guilt. 'Nothing he could say to me would be worse than what I've lived with, knowing that,' he thought, and was surprised to see Tyler's head jerk up in anger.

'My, my, what weak shielding you have, Father,' Tyler taunted, mindvoice resounding in his skull. 'You're projecting like the rankest novice. Nothing? *Nothing*? Let me *show* you what I know about *nothing*!' Extending a raw tendril of psionic power, he roughly inserted a memory into Cable's mind, heedless of the jagged and torn edges where the psilink used to be. Images of Tyler's torture at the hands of Stryfe ripped instantly through his mind, supplanting his conscious thoughts.

Nathan dropped to his knees in agony, electric images of pain and suffering tore through his already anguished mind as Tyler continued his assault, slicing open Cable's weak shielding to skillfully tweak the pain center of his brain, causing the stoic veteran to cry out in helpless agony. Tyler boomed 'You leave me to die, and you call it nothing? How can you call yourself a human being? You're worse than Stryfe- at least he never pretended to care anything about me. At least he taught me the importance of strength- you- you taught me nothing but weakness! All your ideals, your principles- all your notions of fighting to free ourselves from Apocalypse- they mean nothing, old man! Don't you see? Apocalypse has it right! The only thing that matters is strength.' A pause, the mental equivalent of catching his breath. 'I suppose I should thank you for leaving me there to die. That made me strong!'

Cable couldn't respond, only knelt there on his knees, absorbing the assault as best he could, hands clasped over his head, as much as to try to block out the traitorous words resounding angrily within his head as to try to brace himself from the mental blows. His telepathy didn't work, he realized between blows, but the power was still there, and was still unconsciously absorbing some of the damage. 'Not. . .all. . .' he gasped, stunned at the unexpected level of power Tyler was exhibiting.

The flurry of blows ceased for a moment, and he forced himself to look past the emotion to actually *look* at this Tyler. In the younger man's eyes gleamed a fury, a desperation he'd seen so many times before in the Canaanite prison camps. It was the look of the survivor- one who'd been tested by pain and was determined never to suffer it again. It was a look of madness. It was a desire for revenge, and after what Nathan had just seen, he couldn't fault him.

Clone or not, this man knew suffering. Because of him.

The weeks and months of torture, the mental and physical anguish, the sense of betrayal. . . 'And God help me, I left him to that fate,' he thought, the dull realization even worse than the waves of psionic agony coursing through his mind. Just the thought made him visibly crumble.

Nathan Summers had gone through more physical than any human he'd ever known. He'd battled an excrutiating techno-organic virus most of his life, suffered on a thousand battlefields, held comrades and friends and a wife as they all died in his arms. He'd watched his people tortured and killed before him. He'd seen his son ripped away. Right now, he was watching a woman he cared for, a woman he. . . loved. . . hang on a torture rack for his sake. Nathan Summers knew pain.

He knew the scars it left on a soul. Now, more than ever, he knew why Tyler hated him so much.

Summoning his strength, he whispered again, and it was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. "Son, I know what- he- did, I know the programming he forced on you. It's not your fault, it's mine, all mine- but now we can help-" Cable looked at the floor, then back up at his son, left eye blazing with emotion. "Please stop this. Please let me help you," he pleaded, glancing at Domino hanging so limply on the wall. She'd borne the brunt of his failure. She was the one who had to pay. . .just like Aliya had paid for his mistakes so long ago. Cable looked away, unable to bear the sight any longer.

For a moment, Tyler's expression softened. Turning slightly away, the younger man closed his eyes, emotions visibly warring on his face. When he spoke, it was in halting, hestitant tones. "Father, I. . . you don't know what he did. . ."

Seeing this vulnerability, Cable felt the tears pooling in his eyes. He gave into them, and the words came pouring out in a cathartic release. "Oh, Ty, yes I do. Believe me, believe me son, if I could give my life to change what happened to you, I gladly would. You have to believe that, son. You have to." Heedless of the consequences, he pleaded with the man. If this were his opportunity for forgiveness, his second chance, he would take it gratefully. Clone or not, he could try to repent for what he'd been forced to do all those years ago.

A long moment passed, then Tyler, shuddering, turned back to face his father. The expression on his face was heartbreaking. "I did believe in you, Father," he answered, voice curiously formal. "I believed you. I believed every day you would come storming through those gates to rescue me, like you did all the others that were captured. I believed you'd come after me. I defied Stryfe, yelled your name, swore the Clan would be after me. Even if I was only a beta, I was a Clansmen, and your son. I believed you."

Cable, choked with grief, couldn't speak. He stared at the floor, mouth tasting of ashes mixed with salt.

Tyler spoke softly, three words that cut through Nathan's soul. "You didn't come." He swallowed, then went on in an emotionless voice. "You didn't come, so don't talk to me about believing you. I know better."

Behind him, Domino stirred, long limbs beginning to thrash quietly in her bonds. Cable staggered to his feet.

Fevered words poured out, anguished explanations of a betrayal that could not be explained. "I tried. Oath, I tried. But when the Dog Soldiers swarmed around you, Tetherblood pulled me back, and I couldn't feel you in my mind, I thought you were dead-"

"I don't want to hear it!" Tyler yelled aloud, startling his guards. Visibly composing himself, he smiled again, but this time it was a bit forced. "I don't want to hear it. What's past is past."

Cable swallowed once, then murmured quietly. "Then just take me. Let her go- she has nothing to do with this. You can have me and do whatever you want, everything I deserve, if you just let her go." He didn't look at Domino again, didn't trust his reaction to seeing her so in pain. He didn't know if the guilt would hold in the rage.

Sensing his thoughts, Tyler's face darkened. Taking the few steps over to where she hung, he traced a curled finger down her slack cheek. She grunted in unconscious protest.

"Isn't that sweet. You're worried about your genejoke girlfriend."

Standing there, offering himself for Domino, Cable stared at Tyler through his tears, instinctively shuddering at the leering carress. He wasn't getting through- Tyler didn't *want* to listen, to understand. All he wanted was to make Cable suffer, and was using Domino to do it. Deep inside, he felt a rage kindling so bright even the immense empathy he felt for the younger man was hard pressed hold it back. He looked at Domino again, and felt the emptiness where their link had been inside him swell up with an almost unbearable pain, a darkness far worse than Tyler's earlier psychic jabs.

Guilty as he was, responsible as he was, he would not let Domino suffer any more for his failures. He would be that much of a man.

He found it in him to make one last plea for peace. "Tyler, don't do this." His voice was calmer, steadier. He focused on the sounds of his words. "Leave here, with me. I can get you the help you need."

Ignoring his pleas, Tyler shook his head wryly, running a light hand down Domino's twitching arm. "Don't worry, Father. I won't hurt her too badly- after all, I'll still need her around after you're gone. She *is* quite a talented slut. I finally found out what you've been keeping her around for all these years for." A brief pause, then he spoke a single word in Askani.

"Forever!" Tyler spat derisively. "Forever, indeed- or at least until you could find someone else to rut with? I'm almost *glad* Mother didn't live to see your unfaithfulness," he spat, irrational jealousy and betrayal creeping into his tone.

The mention of Jenskot was all it took to push him over the edge. The rush of fury finally overtook him, burned through the emotional manipulations he finally realized he'd fallen prey to so skillfully. Nathan almost cursed himself- Aliya wouldn't have put up with this atrocity, not for a minute.

"Your. . . mother. . ." Nathan ground out "Would weep to see you like this." Suddenly remembering the vision he'd had after the crisis with Onslaught, remembering Aliya and the real Tyler at rest, Cable suddenly felt a wave of peace wash over him. He had at least that much, and nothing the tortured soul before him could do would change that.

"Your *Mother*," Cable snarled "Would be disgusted with this bullshit. She wouldn't put up with it for a minute!"

Tyler raised a fist. "How *dare* you speak of Mother?" He took an involuntary step forward. "Not while you bring your mindblind psibonded whore into my home- how could you, Father? How could you bond with this cow?"

Cable turned his head away, then looked back, all traces of uncertaintly gone. Standing up straight, he put the last of the pain aside. "It's your decision, Tyler," he said quietly. "I'm offering you this chance. If you don't take it, I won't be responsible for what happens. This time, it's on you." Cable stood stone still, assessing the room, finally allowing the soldier in him to silence the shrieking of the father as he awaited the other's next move. He'd given every chance- Tyler had to make this decision for himself. Whatever happened, Dom wouldn't suffer any more because his mistakes.

Tyler leaned forward, speaking very clearly, very slowly, hate etched in every word. "You want a decision? How about this- After I kill you, you faithless bastard, I'll make your little bonded bitch beg me to kill her. I'll make her scream my name as I take her in front of your rotting corpse."

Closing his eyes, Cable nodded. "So be it." Turning away from Tyler, he once more stared at the limp body of his lover hanging unconscious on the wall, her body twitching and flailing against the restraints. Domino moaned again, under her breath, and tugged against the restraints. Watching her, watching Tyler's slim fingers dig into her chin, he felt his heart pound in his chest as his mind played out just the scene Tyler described in such lurid detail. He felt nauseus, red-hot with anger, and despising himself, he encouraged the emotion, goading it on.

Without the psibond, he couldn't know what she was seeing, what visions were making her flail around so in her bonds. He could imagine, though. Aside from her physical injuries, the blood and the bruises, he knew that the part of her soul that housed their bond was shrivelled and dying. For him, every breath, every thought, was electric agony without their bond- he couldn't imagine what it was like for her nonpsion mind. Cable felt the black, jagged streak of pain lance again through his chest, and felt the anger arc inside him again.

As he'd done so many times, he used the heat of the rage to burn through the guilt and paralysis to enable himself to once more face the horrors he was seeing, to plunge on, to be the consumnate soldier, untroubled by guilt or consequence. Firmly locking the demons of guilt and sympathy tight inside himself, he snarled in anger, allowing the pent up fury to unleash itself.

He wanted to kill his son.

He hated himself for it.

His eyes closed briefly, and through the rage, he managed a remorseful, coherent thought. 'Forgive me, Aliya. Forgive me, Tyler.'

"Did you hear me, Father?" Tyler goaded, enjoying the tortured expression on the older man's face. "She might be a little old for my taste, and a bit. . .used. . . but I'll enjoy her for a while, broken or not." Shaking her face, he dropped her chin to pull up Domino's head by her hair so that he could see her blank features perfectly. "Then I'll give her to the boys. I might even go into her mind and make her enjoy it, make her beg for more."

"Shut your filthy mouth," Cable growled, using the anger as a blazing shield against the memories that would still make him weak. Using the hatred as a barrier against the love he had for his son, he steadied himself again. 'This creature is not Tyler. Do what you have to do.'

"Take your hands off of her. I don't want to hear you speak that way about her again, boy." His voice once more rang with command authority, all traces of the earlier pain and vulnerability vanished. All indecision was gone. It was the General who spoke now, not the wounded father.

Tyler laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. "Boy? Is that how you still think of me?" When Cable didn't answer, Tyler's voice dropped low. "Because that would be a mistake, Father. A very dangerous mistake."

The fury rose inside Cable. "*You* were the dangerous mistake," he muttered, glaring at the younger man. "Don't forget, I trained you, boy. I know just what you can and cannot do."

The younger man's eyes narrowed. "Thank you so much for reminding me of that, Father. I was always a disappointment, I know. The child of two such powerful telepaths, the only son of the 'Chosen One'- to be only a beta level psi, who put on pretty holographic memory shows! You don't think I knew what they said about me? I knew! I knew all too well how they mocked me, even before I was. . . captured. Oath, I know what a flonqing disappointment I was to you!"

At the mention of Tyler's parentage, Cable caught his breath and paused, balanced on the edge of revelation. Tyler didn't seem to notice. "Well, worry no longer, Father. Something in the cloning- a quirk of a gene that one of my pet doctors enhanced in this incarnation- augmented my gift to expand upon my original abilities and telepathy. That, combined with my psionic filter- surely you've felt that, Father, it's designed to allow my abilities to function perfectly while dampening other telepathic communication- render me quite formidable."

"We'll see about that," Cable snarled, taking several rapid steps forward. A few of the armed guards lining the room shifted their weapons, but none dared make a move towards him.

Tyler, noting their unease, shook his head disparagingly to his men. "This is between the old man and myself!" Right before Cable could reach him, he outstretched his hand, easily unleashing his augmented telepathic abilities.

Slipping into his father's powerful mind, Tyler skillfully sliced and cut, reaching for memories and tweaking perception. Telepathy woefully squashed by the dampening field, it was all Cable could do to keep his most rudimentary shields up. He managed another step forward before the shields collapsed and Tyler had him.

'Ah, here we are,' he heard the other man's thoughts. 'Oh, Father. You have an ugly mind- such chaos in your thoughts.'

'Get. . . out . . . of my head!' Cable snarled, the aching void inside him throbbing electric with this new violation. His telepathy hovered right outside of his reach, prevented from access by the psionic dampening field. Try as he might to reach it, he couldn't.

Telekinesis, though- with a snarl wrenched from his stomach, Cable summoned the last of his strength to form a powerful if fuzzy telekinetic bolt and hurl it right through the dampener at Tyler with deadly accuracy.

"UNH!" Tyler groaned as the blow hit him point blank. Rocked backwards a few feet, he knelt for a moment before standing back upright again, a bit of wild surprise in his eyes. His shields had taken most of the damage, but he still appeared shaken.

"Well, now. You weren't supposed to still be able to do *that*." Blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. 'Very nice. Now let me show you what *I* can do.'

Struggling against the torrent of thought, Cable felt himself swept away in a foreign rush of memory and emotion.

'Now, see what your mistake of a son can do. . .'

He heard the thoughts from far away as his consciousness was merged with another, strangely familiar mind. He felt the briefest flash of pure, unadulterated joy as he realized there was a reason the thoughts seemed so familiar- he was experiencing Domino's memories.

'Nate?' he heard her murmur. 'S'at you?'

'It's me, Babe. It's all right,' he soothed her, relieved beyond words. 'I'll get us out of here.' To feel her with him was more joy than he could stand, and golden tendrils of light, more reflex than thought, instinctively snaked out to again link again with her. He reached across them to caress her thoughts, brow furrowing in worry as she shrank away from him.

Tyler chuckled, and like a cat capriciously toying with its prey, ripped them apart with a thought.

'Damn you!' Nathan raged impotently as the hollowness threatened to overwhelm him again. 'Fight *me*, Tyler, *me*! Leave her out of this!'

Tyler shrugged casually, then smiled. 'Very well, then, Father. You asked for it.'

Cable gasped as a surge of foreign memory overpowered him. Horrified at the violation, he felt himself fall back into the night before. He again experienced his fight with Domino and their subsequent passionate union. This was more than a memory, though- he didn't just remember what had happened- he felt as if he were reliving it.

Then, slowly, the memories began to shift and change. The memories subtly altered, and the beauty of the night before began to fester and rot. He saw her come to him, true. He saw her open herself completely to him, telling all the things that he'd been longing to hear her say for so, so long. That much had actually happened.

Now, he didn't respond in kind. Instead of the love and acceptance he'd so freely given, and despite his best efforts to the contrary, he felt himself turn her away, mock her, inform her all the dark fears she'd had were true. Instead of taking her in his arms as he'd done and telling her how long he'd been dying to love her, how much she meant to him, he saw himself only laugh sharply, then take her roughly in a mockery of the love they'd shared. He used every ounce of power he had to stop the perversion of one of his most precious memories. He failed.

Even worse, he saw her eyes as he did it, huge and empty. The person she'd trusted most in the world had betrayed her, and if he had been able to move, he would have vomited. He struggled to stop the false memories, to tell her that he'd die before he'd hurt her again.

Instead, he hurt her again. And again. And again.

Finally, it was too much for him to bear. The golden threads crossing the dark chasm between them began popping, one by one, and his heart crumbled to ashes in his chest. When the last shimmering tie, stretched taut by the false memories, finally snapped, he felt himself consumed by a fireball of emptiness. Nathan stared blankly ahead, eyes unfocused and cloudy, completely spent.

From her place on the wall, Domino finally quit thrashing at her bonds and hung still.

In a slow, measured guesture Tyler took his father's face gently in his hands. His eyes glittered with triumph. "And now that you're broken, Father, it's time for you to die."

Across the room where she'd been thrown against the wall, Psylocke awoke with a muffled shriek, rocked by the intensity of the empatic wave that tore through her thoughts. So much like the pain she'd felt before, it broke through even the dampening field to assault her already bruised mind with a haunting, profound emptiness. Fighting through it, she cautiously opened her eyes to look around.

Tyler and Nathan stood a few feet from each other, staring at each other blindly. Casting a quick look at the cadre of guards lining the wall, she found them fixated on their employer as well, entranced on the scene playing out before them. 'Little wonder,' she thought grimly 'With all the telepathic energy being sent from those two, I'm surprised their little minds haven't been fried to a crisp from the feedback.'

Psylocke drew herself up from the floor, balancing herself carefully on the balls of her feet. Her head was pounding with a hollow, empty ache, but she could at last think clearly again.

Wincing at her head, she pondered 'At least I can feel the energy- that means my powers haven't completely vanished. Whatever this is, it isn't like an inhibitor collar, no complete supression,' she noted as her trained senses swept the room for other guards and possible exits. 'Sheer telepathy's impossible, but other outlets of psionic expression, like telekinesis, empathy. . .' Eyes widening, she involuntarily glanced at her right hand, straining to bring the pink shimmer that denoted the appearance of her psychic knife. She felt the energy inside her, weakened, but there.

Tyler finally spoke aloud. Breaking his stance, he stepped towards Cable, taking his face in his hands. "And now that you're broken, Father, it's time for you to die."

From across the room, Betsy told herself 'It's now or never,' and purple eyes flashed with fire as she poised to strike.

Part 53 Note: The first segment of this Chapter takes place simultaneously with the latter half of Chapter 52.

For Kaylee, Paragraph-Tamer Supreme, and Alicia, for dreaming. And, as always, thanks to Alicia and Luba for their superb betas.

The first thing she heard when she regained consciousness were voices, sibilant and toxic. 'Told you we'd be back,' they taunted, and in their textured depths she heard Tyler's distinctively high voice intermingled with her own familiar hollow doubts and fears. 'You should have known it wouldn't work. You're alone again. . .like you always knew you would be. . .'

Still writhing with the agony of Tyler's brutal psychic attack, Domino struggled fitfully against the heavy steel bands pinning her tight against the wall. Head pounding, perspiration pouring down her body, she moaned as the fading psibond pulsed like a dying star, thrumming with bursts of pain, echoing a desperate refrain of loss.

¡¦Go ¡¦way,' she snarled, but it was to no avail. She could feel the shadows well inside her, anxious to resume their proper place in her consciousness now that the annoying golden psibond, shriveled and dying, no longer held them at bay. Engorged by the humiliation and betrayal of the false memories, the dimness was finally strong enough to overcome the last of her battered mental shields. Weakened as she was, she was easily pulled under by the strength of the dark tide.

Slithering though the gaping, excruciatingly painful tears in her battered psyche, sinuously twining itself in and around her thoughts, the tenebrous bleakness, propelled by the poison of the nightmare images and her own haunted memories skillfully directed by the power of Tyler's augmented psionic power, easily crashed over the last of the crumbling walls she'd built around it to flood her pounding head with a leaden despair, stronger for having been once been denied.

Through it all, the broken psibond was still permanently affixed to the core of her mind. Despite the threat of oblivion, it still throbbed faintly, beating shimmers of light that fought ineffectually against the shadows, igniting pain and defiance wherever they struck. The blackness surged around it, pooling up in the rips and tears in her psyche, fighting to extinguish both the light of the bond and her own inner fire.

The inky desolation, in sharp contrast to the blazing agony of the light, slowly roiled through her thoughts, gently caressing her awareness, calming the stabbing anguish left behind by the destruction of the bond to leave her numb, resigned, broken. The bond screamed its defiance and, through it, she could barely feel Nathan's rage and frustration as he battled against his son. His hatred, his guilt, exacerbated her own, and the stark emptiness burbled even louder.

Tyler, distracted, let the shadows have their say. 'You're alone again.' They soothed, comforted, deadened. 'You should have known you couldn't trust him. You don't need him, you don't need to fight. . .just rest. . .' The light began to fade, and she felt herself perversely lulled by the soft cadence of the words. It would be easy, so easy, to do what they said, to just let them in, to not care anymore. . .

'No,' she thought dully, breaking herself out of the impending unconsciousness. The light flared bright for a moment, emboldened by even this pale show of rebellion. 'No!'

The ghosts of her pasts billowed forward, ebony tendrils swirling around them. 'Oh, yes,' Tyler idly sneered, the majority of his attention focused elsewhere. 'He left you, too, you stupid cow, just like they,' the presence wordlessly indicated the parroting darkness, 'said he would.' The thoughts reverberated with suppressed emotion, and Domino sensed rapid flashes of his betrayal-rage-abandon, the harsh emotions imprinting themselves on her naked nonpsi mind.

Rocking with the intensity of the sensations, she blindly drew her last battered walls tighter, not knowing where she got the strength. 'Fuck . . . you, asshole. . .'

Looking past the chaos, she focused on her senses, on sound, the external stimuli, on anything but herself and the distorted images from her past. Some part of her heard voices, faint as from a distance, harsh and pleading. Listening harder as the cries grew louder, Tyler's control over her waned, preoccupied as he was with his communication with . . . she bit her tongue as she recognized Nathan's familiar voice breaking in emotion.

'Nathan?' The thought of him brought the earlier nightmare images to mind, and it was all she could do not to immediately draw back into the safety of herself. Conquering her revulsion, she thrashed in her chains, floundering past the exhaustion and disgust to try to expand her senses even further, hear what was being said.

"Your Mother. . . would weep to see you like this," she heard Nathan growl in a dangerous voice.

Her perception dimmed for a moment, then through Tyler's voice in her own mind, she heard him spit 'Very well, then, Father. You asked for it.'

The oppressive hollowness dimmed for a moment, and she lurched forward in her chains, confused for a moment by the absence of pain. Faintly, ever so faintly, she felt an intimate touch, and the fading bond almost blossomed with energy, the blackness shrinking back.

'Nate?' she asked hesitantly, still holding herself back, endeavoring with a herculean effort to keep the depraved memories away, to concentrate on getting them out of there. 'S'at you?'

She felt a burst of irrepressible joy, his joy. 'It's me, Babe. It's all right,' she felt his familiar thoughts, shuddered with the relief and concern in them. She drew back, the emotions too raw, too painful to bear. 'I'll get us out of here.' The bond flared brightly, amber filaments impulsively seeking to link the two again. Even the darkness recoiled from it.

False memories still rattling through her mind, Domino, hesitant, was slow in responding. Nathan clung to her anyway, stretching his consciousness towards hers, and his love radiated like a beacon, brightly broadcasting his joy at their reunion. The warmth spread like a soothing balm, his acceptance and love thawing her frozen soul so that the false memories almost faded to a dark and terrible backdrop.

Even with the terribly weakened link, she could *feel* his love, *feel* his soul, even through the corrupted jumble of her memories. Fighting against an instinctive desire to run away and hide herself from him, bury herself in her own fears, she swallowed hard and instead reached out to tentatively accept his touch.

Just as their souls brushed, began again the union of heart and soul that had bound them so tightly together, Tyler carelessly ripped them apart again. Even the shadows dissipated briefly at the howl of outrage and pain that came from the shrieking bond.

Through Tyler's presence in her mind, she heard Nathan rail furiously 'Damn you! Fight *me*, Tyler, *me*! Leave her out of this!'

Tyler's presence within her laughed, and roared its response to the challenge.

Domino gasped as she felt her consciousness again pulled into the murky illusion of false remembrance, the unlit chasm of despair where everything she had ever known to be good and true was warped and broken. The false reel of memories unwound again, this time all the worse for Nathan's presence there with her. She felt him pulled into herself, felt him experience the horrors from her perspective, felt his humiliation and rage echoing through her own. She, who had always been his equal, was forced to watch him watch her degrade herself before him.

Repetition made it none the easier. Desperate to prove the nightmare images wrong, Nathan frantically reached out to her through the last tenuous thread of their bond, but, bombarded with images of his abuse and betrayal, she pulled immediately away from his voice and the corruption the false memories associated with it, her soul hollow and empty.

Though the last threads of the link, she could feel Nathan's horror at the violation, his disgust and outrage and, to her immense humiliation, his pity. Disgusted with him and with her own weakness, she faltered, and the demons pulled her under.

The ragged bond, already suppressed by the conscious decision of the bonded, dampened by Tyler's psionic field, battered and abused and already rent in two by the earlier attack, could not bear the strain. It snapped again, raw power erupting from its source, leaving them hollow and once more alone.

Domino screamed, and heard Tyler's mocking laughter as he increased his control over her again so that his presence completely filled her thoughts. Inside, the emptiness rumbled, embracing her back to itself, anesthetizing her emotions, smothering her soul with an impenetrable haze.

'NATHAN!' she shrieked, but knew he couldn't hear her. The darkness surrounded her, choking her, and she slowly felt the lights dim one by one.

Soon, she quit flailing and was still.

"And now that you're broken, Father, it's time for you to die."

Hands pressed tightly against the older man's silvered temples, Tyler stepped into the shadows of his father's tortured mind. His hands trembled with the intensity of the moment as Cable, mind pounding in pain from the second explosion of the psibond, fought desperately to pull his crushed psyche together.

'Weak,' Tyler snorted contemptuously, his disdain rumbling through the broken ruin of his father's psiscape. Using his augmented abilities, he gleefully attacked again with the same white-hot fervid claws he'd used before. 'And *you're* the vaunted 'Chosen One'? Feh. How the flonq you ever thought you'd best Apocalypse is beyond me.'

Cable, barely standing upright, didn't answer. Powers woefully weakened by the dampening field and the continuing assault, he was unable to break free from Tyler's iron grip. His head throbbed with electric shards of pain as he tried desperately to ignore the bellowing emptiness where the bond with Domino had been, using all his strength instead to simply keep from collapsing. An icy cold ache spread along the left side of his body, and some dim part of him recognized it as the techno-organic incursion beginning to grow out of control again now that all the energy once used to keep it in check was now devoted to surviving Tyler's deadly psychic assault.

Tyler just smiled, and slowly, methodically, began shutting down his father's mind. Despite the dampening field, Cable's instinctive psionic shields ignited, throwing up a last groaning bulwark against the hellish blows. Tyler pressed on, bolstered powers raging, and soft blue psionic energy began to glimmer faintly around him. Chuckling under his breath, Tyler reached deep inside his father to pull out the most horrific images of a lifetime full of slaughter. 'You fell into my trap, Father. How does it feel?'

Not even noticing as the techno-organic flesh of his left arm erupted in sharp, dangerous spikes, Cable shuddered as the worst memories of a war-torn lifetime seared through his mind. Tyler mockingly showed him images of his people's shuddering defeat, Aliya lying dead in his arms, Tyler himself being pulled away, stacks of burning bodies and the smell of burning flesh. Those alone weren't enough- he also drew out a thousand other gruesome images, faces from the past and the future, the fate of history on his shoulders: Dom, Scott, Jean, Tetherblood, Sam, G.W., Professor, X-Force, their images swirling though his mind in a horrid maelstrom of loss. The younger man's skillful manipulations showed him their past, their future, shaded by darkness and hemmed in by despair and oppression. Everyone he loved, everyone he had fought beside and for would all be enslaved or murdered by Apocalypse, all forced to bear the brand of his defeat. All would be destroyed because he wasn't strong enough.

Just like his Clansmen had been.

Nathan stood his ground, grinding his teeth, fighting against the onslaught of despair and physical pain with every iota of power at his disposal. Using the horrific images to propel him past the pain, he shuddered once as he finally reached the inner wellspring of power, tapping his last reservoir of strength to fight back against the power that threatened to overwhelm them all. Raging against the invasion, he stood his ground, throwing back the younger man's attacks with something approaching his true strength, and the shiny metallic skin of his left arm returned to something like normal.

Tyler, fingers clenching harder into the older man's face, was no longer smiling. The energy swirled in patterns around him now, sparkling brighter, illuminating the two in a glowing nimbus of light. Growling deep in his throat, Tyler crashed against his father's shields, finding them suddenly strong enough to present a challenge. With a muttered curse, he diverted his attention away from other concerns to focus completely on the effort at hand. He'd toyed with this long enough.

'Not as easy as I thought it'd be, old man,' he mocked, buffeting his father with another searing blow. 'But not long now until it's over. You can't win.'

Cable didn't bother with words, merely held his shields, fighting past the pain to brace himself against the force of Tyler's blows. Tyler's renewed attack took its toll, and he could feel his last reserves of strength wearing down. His last burst of defiance hadn't been enough.

Sharing in Domino's warped memories, feeling the agony his bastard son had caused in her and the subsequent refracturing of their bond had shaken him badly, very badly, almost to the point of incapacitation. A last spurt of energy wouldn't be enough to heal those scars or fight off further incursions.

Now, warring with the lunatic who wore his son's face, he came to a stark realization. Tyler was going to win. Nathan had lived his life as a professional soldier, intimately attuned to the arts of war. He'd long since learned to recognize the subtle shifts and sways that indicated the disposition of a fight, and even in his abused state could very well detect the shift in the tide of the battle.

And this one had been Tyler's from the beginning. Sparing a brief second to look back, Nathan could see the trap, see precisely how the pieces fell, curse himself for falling prey to it so easily. He should have known- it was all laid out for him to see. Tyler had only gone after Domino to get to him- once more, he'd been unable to stop the ravaging of someone he loved. Once more, a woman's blood would be on his hands. Choking with despair, he forced himself to look at his son, look at the man he'd hurt so badly as to deserve this pain. In response, his metallic skin began to shift and morph again, sharp spiny protrusions beginning to emerge from his side and arm.

The crackling luminescence cast harsh shadows on the fine boned face, and pale hair, glowing blue in the light and lifted by the static in the air, stood on end. Already crystal blue eyes seemed to glow from within, hatred and misguided revenge blazing from their depths. Tyler, oblivious to his father's despairing gaze, continued buffeting him with blows, cleaving through his last instinctive shields as if they belonged to the rankest novice. 'Give up, Father!' he cried, the words etching onto his thoughts like acid. 'It's over! You've lost!'

With the last of his strength, Cable groaned defiantly ¡¦Never!' Knees buckling underneath him, he looked away so as to shield his eyes against the incandescent radiance that had begun to gather itself around his son, outlining his slender form with sparkling fire.

Cold smile returning, Tyler narrowed his eyes and let loose a laser sharp psionic blast, focusing it expertly to course through his father's ravaged mindscape to tear through the last of his shields with a triumphant roar.

"Arrrrrrrghhhhhh!" Cable screamed aloud, every nerve, every synapse lit with fire. The bolt seared through him, burning his skin, flaying his mind, peeling open every remaining shield until Cable's mind lay bare and exposed before him.

Shields destroyed, mind afire with ceaseless agony, Cable collapsed to the floor, completely vulnerable. The techno-organic virus now raged completely out of control, silvery surface spreading over Cable's face and chest like mercury. Even the instinctive reservoir of strength that had succored him earlier was drained, and what few vestiges of his true power that had remained in his control were long gone. He lay spent, utterly exhausted, twitching as jolts of psionic energy coursed through his body. He tried to look away, rivet his gaze on the floor to escape the penetrating hatred in the flashing blue eyes and the rotting joy in the rictus smile.

Tyler chuckled. "I don't think so. You're going to *see* me, Father, *see* what you've done." A crook of his finger, a flick of his power, and Cable's eyes shifted to stare directly at him again, face spasming in tics as the energy burned ever brighter.

Tyler loomed over the much older man, slender figure gleaming bright with the telepathic power and energy at his control. The fortress' amplifying field tweaking even the upper limits of his own genetically altered abilities, he shone like a star, energy crackling around him.

"It's over, Father," he whispered softly. Head thrown back in the air, arms stretched high above his head, he crowed his triumph, energy bursting from his fingertips. "It's *over*! The time of reckoning is at hand!!!"

Cable lay still.

With an expression of utter ecstasy, Tyler stooped to kiss his father gently on his sweaty forehead, lips feverish against Cable's clammy skin. Clutching the older man by the throat, Tyler skillfully slid even deeper into his father's mind, easily navigating through the chunks of debris left behind in the aftermath of battle, silently blessing the techno-organic virus that made his work that much easier. Seeking out the few remaining points of light, Tyler slowly, methodically snuffed them out.

Bright ribbons of energy pulsed from the younger man to the older, infusing both with crackling, malevolent energy seeking a release. With a final, choked cry, Tyler leaned forward, poised to make his final strike, savoring the moment as the final satisfaction of his heart's desire. "G'journey, you faithless bastard," he murmured, closing his eyes as the power arose, white-hot, searing with painful ecstasy down the link between them as he felt his father fade away.

Then the world exploded around him.

'It's now or never,' Betsy told herself, preparing to strike, eyes narrowed against the blinding brilliance of the blue light that pulsed in a furious rapid-fire strobe effect from the center of the room. She instinctively closed her eyes tightly against light so bright it left afterimages on her corneas, her bloody *eyes*, eyes once lost to her.

Growling under her breath, she reached a blind hand into one of the suit pockets, praying it was the right one. It was. Pulling out a small pair of shaded goggles, she breathed a sigh of relief when she slowly opened heavy-lidded eyes to find that the goggles absorbed the worst of the light. The psionic maelstrom still pulsed, still shone, but now she could at least see without fear of blinding herself again permanently. Peering closer into the fury, she saw two familiar figures at the heart of it- a tall, slender man and a taller, massive one- joined by a touch and completely fixated on each other as if nothing else existed in the universe.

With a cry, the larger man buckled. 'Cable!' she yelped, eyes widening in worried surprise. 'Dammit, Nathan, what's going on?' Her immediate instinct was to rush to his aid, but years of experince took over and she stayed her hand. Rather than jumping recklessly into the fray, she instead took a moment to center herself. Eyes closed tightly against the blue light, she ignored the fevered exchanges between the two men, pushing past the dampening field to drink deeply from the latent pool of power deep inside her.

The faint pink shimmer extending from her knuckles grew stronger, more cohesive, becoming a deadly blade of psionic energy manifesting itself once more in a sizzling psychic knife of deadly ferocity. Even through the goggles she could see that it now shone hot rose against the pale blue that illuminated the room, and the two colors merged to cast flickering purple shadows across her face and hands.

Betsy drew in a deep breath, finally strong enough to act against the power that had totally incapacitated her earlier. Though the guards seemed utterly entranced by the spectacle before them, she took no chances, knowing how much was riding on her next actions. Crouching low to the ground, she crept across the room, seeking out the source of the raging incandescence. She needn't have bothered- no one noticed her, so fixated were they on the battle between father and son.

Guided by instinct as much as her senses, Betsy paused a few feet from the two dark figures at the heart of the storm. Blinking, she looked closer, and saw that only one was now standing, the other lying prone and completely still on the floor.

"G'journey, you faithless bastard," she heard Tyler whisper, and she knew she could wait no longer.

She leapt, a graceful, practiced movement, a dark and silent silhouette against the fury of the light. Landing between them with an inarticulate cry, she stabbed the glowing knife first right into the very heart of the conflagration, then shifted in a liquid motion to stab it right through Tyler's forehead.

The link between Tyler and Nathan short-circuted, severing their connection and resulting in a backlash of power so fierce that the air itself exploded in a brilliant fireball of pink and blue energy, igniting the room in its fury.

The ring of guards lining the room cried out in unison and tumbled like stringless marionettes to the floor. Tyler had barely a split second to stare at her, blank and stunned, before the explosion threw him across the room, slamming him against the wall. His slim body hit the wall with a thud, and he slid down to lie in a boneless heap on the floor. Cable, insensate and oblivious, was tossed into the air and back down again, limp body falling to the floor with a heavy, dull sound, arm sticking outward at an odd angle.

Betsy, more prepared for the possibility of a reaction, used the thin moment before the boom to duck and roll, years of ingrained practice and muscle memory taking control. The blast was not so accommodating, however, and despite her nimble attempt at escape, the wall of force that shot out from the dying explosion, illuminating the room and catching all within its radius in a broiling final burst of psionic energy, caught her squarely in its path. She fell to the ground, unconscious.

After burning bright for a few moments more, the flickering energies began to finally dissipate. The room was at long last silent, save for the heavy breathing of the crumpled bodies on the floor and one very silent figure hanging from the wall.

"Now just wot th' bloody 'ell is this?" Pete Wisdom growled, pale brow furrowed in suspicion as the dozens of guards milling around the main hall all cried out in unison and dropped like flies.

He'd been sent ahead to scout the room just a few moments earlier, and had returned with most unpleasant tidings. The cavernous foyer, so empty when they'd arrived, now appeared brimming with muscle, squads of guards armed, dangerous, and looking as if they were itching for a fight. They'd fallen squarely into a trap, the trap that had been at the back of everyone's mind since the beginning of this mission.

Logan's stream of worried invective when told the news was almost as imaginative as Pete's own had been, and despite their desperate situation he'd managed a slight crooked grin at the choice words Kitty had employed to describe her feelings on the matter. Standing in the hallway a few hundred feet from the entrance, in increasingly higher risk of being captured at any moment, they had been forced to make a decision. Herding a string of drugged and giggly researchers, separated from the rest of their party and rapidly running out of time, there was really no other option.

"Shit, I hate this," Logan had muttered under his breath, then sighed and gave voice to their plan. "All right, then, subtlety goes out th' window on this one. We'll have t' bust our way through. Wisdom, you'll cover. I'll take out as many as I can, and Kitty, you'll get these flamin' bastards," he growled at one of the doctors who had wandered a bit too close to him, "back t' the plane and into custody. I slipped out o' this bastard's hand once, an' I intend t' do it again."

Kitty, heart pumping with the adrenaline rush she'd come to love so much, nodded curtly, pushing away any thoughts of the obvious danger to these two she held so dear. Pete, eyes narrowed in concentration, grunted assent, sizzling heat swirling at his fingertips.

"What about Ororo?" She had asked, concerned about the other member of their party. Ororo, exhausted from the herculean effort of masking their plane's passage from Tyler's security system, had been forced to hide and wait for them at the entrance.

The wait served a double purpose- besides keeping the claustrophobe from having to follow them through the tight, labyrthyine passages snaking under the building, it also allowed her to keep an eye on this central passage to watch for troop movement.

"I wish she'd been able t' buzz one of us, let us know they were massin' in the 'all," Pete mused, knowing full well the reasons that had probably been impossible. He nudged one of the doctors back in line with a sharp booted kick to a shin. "And t' answer yer question, Pryde, she's in place." He thought for a moment, then added for Kitty's benefit, "she looks a little better, now. She even managed to give me a dirty look without fallin' over."

Kitty smiled half-heartedly. "I guess that's a good sign."

"We need all we can get right now, Darlin'," Logan had answered, and they had made their way to the entrance of the foyer, prepared to fight their way through it.

Just as they reached the entrance, however, a broken choir of voices had cried out in agony, and bodies had fallen abruptly to the floor. From their now vantage point the three could see the tumult and hear quite clearly the punctuation of bones snapping and popping as bodies collapsed against onto the floor in a jumbled mass of armament and limbs.

"Now just wot th' bloody 'ell is this?"

"Beats th' hell out of me," Logan growled, nose twitching furiously as he worked to sort out the myriad scents wafting out of the room.

"Is it a trap, Logan?" Kitty asked quietly, crouched slightly in a defensive stance. Ever suspicious, Pete stood beside her, beginnings of hot knives emerging from his fingertips.

Head raised to sniff the air again, Logan shook his head curtly. "Don't think so. They smelled as surprised as we are. . ."

"I don't buy it. I don't care what your nose says, it smells like a trap t' me," Pete muttered belligerently, trying to discover the hidden deception in the fallen guards' sudden and seemingly unexpected incapacitation. Dark blue eyes flickered back and forth over the fallen bodies lying atop each other in the great chaotic hall ahead, looking for a trace of movement. He found none.

"I don't like it either, Runt, but it don't look like we have much of a choice right now, do we?" Tapping one of his extended claws to the face of the suit chronometer on his wrist, Logan growled "We ain't got that much time left, an' th' last thing I want t' do is leave a remote controlled PACRAT sittin' unguarded on Genesis' doorsteps."

"Good point," Kitty and Wisdom muttered in unison, and Logan spared them a small smile.

"Let's do it, then," Kitty nodded, and stepped out of the hallway into the immense lobby, tugging the chain of scientists behind her. Logan and Wisdom were immediately behind her, each man poised for battle, experienced veterans seeking out the slightest hint of danger.

They found none. After a moment's hesitation, they were joined after a moment by a bewildered and uncharacteristically silent Ororo. There, in that chamber, Kitty Pryde led the two men she loved most in the world and the woman who was her mentor and her friend unharmed through the hall bristling with catatonic weaponry, deftly stepping around the masses of inert bodies and not losing a single prisoner in the process.

Head held high, ready for a fight if one were offered and the trap sprung, Kitty walked untouched through the room and out of the gate Domino had dismantled earlier, teammates and chortling prisoners trailing behind her, the former glaring and suspicious, looking for a trap, the latter giggling and just happy to be alive.

Guiding their charges through the gate, Kitty and the others, baffled and confused, ushered them along the entrance out of the image-induced exterior of the fortress into the rocky yard where a cloaked plane on autopilot waited to take them all away to safety.

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