Beginning: Chapter One

by Genki Girl


Disclaimers: Any Marvel owned characters do not belong to me. Crappy plot/storyline does along with that tough cutie Jared and the Jubemeister's new name. ^_~ Other than that, don't sue me 'cause a.) not rich b.) would be pointless and c.) me teenager meaning me have NO money. ;P

Penny For Your Thoughts: Okay, short, sweet (hah!) and to the point. :P I wanted to just lead up to the point where Jubes goes BACK but don't expect for the X-Men to find out…yet. ^_~ Look forward to the next chapter minna, which will be short because if not, you won't be able to read it as soon. ^^; Gambatte yo and remember to review or email! ^_^ Arigatou!


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"The truth is, laughter always sounds more perfect than weeping. Laughter flows in a violent riff and is effortlessly melodic. Weeping is often fought, choked, half strangled, or surrendered to with humiliation." Anne Rice - Taltos

~

When she opened her eyes once more to the insistent sunlight on her face, her eyes instinctively went to the glowing digits beside her bed.

5 a.m.

She groaned. No matter how much she had changed, this was one change she despised. But once she was up, she was up. She couldn't go back to sleep no matter how much she tried.

And so, with a defeated sigh, she dragged herself from her bed and grumbled her way to the kitchen where the sounds of humanity was coming from.

A large hand reached out with a steaming cup of something dark and liquidly and she acknowledged it with a grunt and made her way the high seated chairs at the counter.

The news was on, and the young weatherman's cheerful tone annoyed her, but she didn't say anything. One thing Jared insisted on in the morning was news, and well, when Jared put his foot down, which was rare, she usually assented to making him happy. After all, who in their right mind would say no to a man who was easily twice their size, a bodyguard meaning they were well-trained and buff, and a once-upon-a-time assassin to boot? Not her most definitely!

It was only after several gulps of hot bitter heaven that she finally groused enough to actually pay attention to what had once been a garble of jumbled words.

It was only when the reporter, a sharply dressed woman, announced in a solemn voice a name that she had wished to forget that she actually paid attention closely to the words.

And it was only when the memories of last night rushed back at her did her grip on the mug tighten until her knuckles were white and her face a pale ashen color that she realized exactly what was being played on the news.

"…and so it was announced just now that the famed Professor Charles Xavier passed away…"

Whatever came after that meant nothing to her. Professor Xavier. Passed away. Dead. He died. He's gone…

The mug dropped to the floor. Its owner neither caring, nor acknowledging the flying liquid as it slid all over the polished marble tiles. She didn't hear the mug shatter into dozens of pieces when it made contact with the smooth, hard surface. And when she felt two hands grab her by her shoulders and shook her, all she did was stare blankly into the face that held no meaning to her. She couldn't understand what was being said to her.

And after minutes of silence, that slowly passed by, she blinked and stared at her bodyguard almost as if noticing him for the first time. And when she spoke, it was so distant and far-off, as if she wasn't really there.

"Jared? Go…go pack…and call Michael to pick us up and arrange a private flight while I call Jack to tell him that we'll be gone for a few days."

Jared watched his superior in growing concern. Last night, her screams had sent chills down his spine, and he had rarely, if ever, seen her cry…and something had triggered her off in this zoning thing…what was going on with her?

"Nyssa," he said as gently as he could. "Where exactly are we going?"

She stared at him vacantly before turning her gaze to the television screen, the image of a large mansion currently being shown. And when she answered, it was no longer in a daze or faint. It was cool, emotionless and completely monotone. "We're going to a funeral."