X3: The Ace Of Spades

Disclaimer: X-Men is owned by Marvel Comics and 20th Century Fox. I do not own X-Men, nor am I making a profit from this work of fan-fiction. So don't sue me! Not that you'd get a whole lot from me anyway ;)
A/N: Hey everyone, nice to get out an update about a week from the last one – it’s been a while since I’ve been able to. Hope you guys like the chapter, and thanks for all the feedback and reviews last chap!

Chapter 27: SHIELD

“Lookin’ better,” Remy said as he moved his hands into place so the padded training mitts he was wearing met Danielle’s kick. “Let’s stop here; we’ve worked enough on savate.”

Dani nodded and then shook her head to keep her sweat out of her eyes. She walked several steps to a nearby tree, and grabbed a half-full bottle of water, which she quickly guzzled down. She reached back and lifted her thick ponytail of hair from her neck, hoping it would help her cool down a bit. She’d worn a thin tanktop and shorts, and was glad she had when Remy had taken her outside for training.

“After you made me run a mile and then kick for an hour, I’d say it’s enough,” she said grumpily, “my legs are gonna be sore for days.”

Remy chuckled. “Hey, dat jus’ means you’re buildin’ your muscles. Nothin’ wrong wit’ a good ache after a workout. ‘Sides, you’re doin’ pretty decent – you, Piotr, and Rogue all seem t’be learnin’ at ‘bout de same speed, least on your first sessions.”

He saw a small pleased smile flit across her face at that as he un-velcroed the straps of the sparring pads around his wrists and yanked them off, tossing them to the side. He sat down, leaning his back up against a nearby tree, and he grabbed his own water bottle, sighing in satisfaction when he found that keeping it in the shade had allowed it to remain somewhat cool in the rather warm weather of the day.

He gestured at the forest around them – they were right at the edge of the open clearing and the forest, far into the property, near the horse pastures. “Très jolie out here in de spring.”

Dani nodded slowly, “Yep. Back in Denver we’d be planning for a May snowstorm or two to interrupt weather like this,” she said with a slight laugh in her voice.

Remy shook his head. “Definitely not somethin’ I’m used to. Down in N’awlins we’d have been dis warm for de last few months at least.”

He pushed back from the tree trunk using his elbows. “So… Dani…. I know it’s been awhile since we talked ‘bout it – before break – but how’s workin’ on your power comin’? We haven’ had a big exercise wit’ de others so I been curious.”

Dani shrugged, her hands picking at the grass below her legs. “It’s alright. Better than before. Worked on it over Break, and the last few days.”

“Hit me with it.” Remy said, and her eyes shot up to his face to see his expression was quite serious.

“I- I couldn’t. It’s, it can be really intense-“

He shook his head. “You won’ be showin’ me anythin’ I ain’ dreamt ev’ry night myself.”

Dani frowned and then her expression softened when she realized what he was talking about – she and the other X-Men-in-training had been at the meeting in which he’d revealed how he’d been hired by the perpetrators of the New York Tunnel Massacre. “I- are you sure?”

Remy nodded. “I am. You don’ need t’be afraid of what your powers can do. Dey’re a part of you. I had de same problem – took me a damn long time before I would touch a person after I got full control , still scared I’d somehow blow dem up. But it took a big burden off when I finally faced de fear of dem.”

Dani sighed deeply, but finally and reluctantly shook her head. “Alright. Just… don’t freak out.”

A look of concentration passed over her face, and her hand reached out slightly in his direction. After several long seconds, she frowned, and seemed to concentrate harder.

She finally let out the breath she’d been holding, and looked at him with confusion. “I can’t do it. My powers aren’t picking up anything from you.”

One of Remy’s eyebrows rose. “Ah, y’powers must use some sorta telepathy to find things de other person fears. My mind’s pretty well blocked by my own powers. I could, y’know, try to pull in my energy, open my mind a bit.”

“No-“ Dani said, her hand darting out quickly to grab his forearm. “Please, don’t. It’s nice to know someone I can’t effect. Between this and Rogue, I think it might actually help me get over my block.”

“Rogue?” Remy asked curiously.

“Well, over break, Rogue and I started trying out my power on her to get over my problems, and we’ve done it a few times since we got back.”

Remy smiled slightly at that. He wasn’t surprised in the least – Rogue, like himself, understood more than anyone about problems with mutant abilities, and fear of using them.

“With most people I could use my powers a dozen times and my abilities would pick up a different fear – most don’t have a ‘greatest’ fear, but a collection of worst fears. That’s a big part of why I don’t like to do it, because I never know what I’ll bring to the surface.” Dani said.

“But with Rogue, it’s so simple – there’s only one thing that ever comes up, and we both already knew what it would be. That really is her ‘greatest’ fear, and I guess none of her other ones come close to matching it.”

Remy’s eyes darkened slightly. “Her powers.” He said softly.

She nodded. “Her powers - standing over you and me and the rest of her friends, all of us drained by her powers.”

Remy sighed. “Up till de Tunnels, mine woulda been de same – m’powers goin’ outta control.” He glanced up at her curiously. “You ever tried usin’ dem with your own mind? Projectin’ somethin’ dat you’re thinkin’?”

Dani shook her head, a contemplative look on her face. “No, never thought of that. Guess I’ve been more worried about keeping my powers from doing anything…”

Remy leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, and gestured with his hand. “Give it a try. Jus’, do what you usually do but think ‘bout what you want to project.”

Dani held her hand forward, pointing it toward the open field in front of them, her tongue peeking out from the corner of her mouth, which was set firmly. For nearly a minute she sat there, and her muscles in her hand started to tremble.

Then, suddenly, the air in front of them started to shimmer, like warm air rising off the blacktop on a hot day, or a mirage in the desert. In the next instant, the view of the mansion was blocked by an enormous bear with shaggy brown hair. It towered over them, its head nearly the size of Remy and Dani’s bodies combined – its height enough that it would likely be able to reach the second floor of the mansion while standing on all fours. Eyes with an unnatural reddish glow glared at them as it snarled, its muzzle covered in foam like a rabid dog, with long strands of saliva dripping from its fangs. And then it lunged toward them with speed and agility that belied its enormous size.

“Merde,” Remy muttered, reflexively somersaulting backwards from his sitting position into a crouch, his entire deck of cards splayed out in one hand, glowing with energy.

“Holy shit-“ was all that managed to make its way out of Dani’s surprised throat as she tried to stand up and scuttle backwards. She failed, tripping over her own feet, and when she landed back down with a hard thud, the bear shimmered, and then disappeared.

Remy remained crouched, the energy form his hand pulsating in and out of the cards with his rapid breaths, until Dani shakily began to stand up, her own breath-rate just as rapid.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Remy,” she said, and he slowly let the kinetic charge fade from the cards.

“What de hell was dat?” Remy asked flatly, straightening up and brushing off the pair of jeans he’d worn.

“I- I’m sorry, that was one of my illusions.”

“Shit, girl, dat’s one damn good illusion.” He said. “Dey shoulda been workin’ on your powers for a long time now. Didn’ realize exactly what you meant by ‘illusion’. Thought it was jus’ somethin’ projected in someone’s head, but we both saw dat.”

“No, if I’m not focusing on someone in particular it will look different to each person but if I focus on one thing like just now it’s the same for everyone.”

“Alright, now I know. Next time, let’s try to not do de demonic bear tryin’ to eat our faces off, hein?” He asked with a shaky laugh.

Dani shot him a wan smile. “I’m – I wasn’t trying to bring that one out, I guess my powers are just still stuck on bringing out fears right now, so it brought out one of mine. I used to have nightmares about that thing all the time when I was little, and still have them once or twice a year. Don’t have a clue what the hell they mean.”

Remy nodded, and patted her on the shoulder. “S’alright, you’re still getting’ de hang of it all.”

Dani closed her eyes to compose herself, exhaling softly, “Never really scared myself with my own illusions before.”

Remy smiled. “Well, I don’ know ‘bout you, but I’m gonna head in an’ clean up. Maybe change my boxers.”

Dani chuckled softly. “Alright, I think that’s enough powers for today. Thanks, by the way, for teaching us like this, and… for being understanding with my powers.”

Remy nodded, and slid his cards back into his pants pocket. “De rien,” he said, stooping down to scoop up the training mitts he’d borrowed from the exercise room before following her on the trek back toward the mansion.

*****************************************************************

Lorna shifted the bundle of clothes she was carrying to one arm so she could reach out to hit the down button for the third floor elevator panel. As she did so, she cursed silently when several pairs of socks slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor – she’d gone out to town with Ororo who’d used the school expense account to get her enough clothes to last her for a while, and now she was on her last set of clothes and needed to wash them.

She started to bend down, when a pair of feet appeared in front of her, and their owner of those feet bent down and scooped up the socks. “Hey, here ya go,” said the young Asian teen who’d picked them up, her large hoop earrings swaying back and forth like pendulums at her movements.

“Thanks,” Lorna said, smiling. “You’re… Jubes, right? Rogue’s friend?”

She nodded. “Jubilee, but Jubes is fine. If you call me Jubilation we might have problems,” she said with a cheery grin.

Lorna laughed, grabbing the socks from her hand. “Alright, Jubes it is then. I’m Lorna.”

Jubilee nodded, and raised an eyebrow. “I’d shake your hand, but it looks like they’re full. You goin’ down?”

Lorna nodded. “Gotta do laundry.”

“Gotcha,” Jubilee said, hitting the button to call the elevator.

Jubilee glanced over at her as they waited for the elevator to make its way up to their floor. “So… where’re you from?”

“San Francisco,” Lorna said. “Just south of the main city.”

“Ah – I’m from L.A. Right by Beverly Hills, actually.” Jubilee responded as the door of the elevator opened.

“Really? Bet that was fun.”

Jubilee nodded, and pressed two buttons on the elevator – the ground floor for herself, and the first subbasement for Lorna.

“It was,” she said. “I’m sorta a crazy mallrat, and there’s loads of places to go shopping around there. Also pretty fun to see actors and actresses around town. My friends and I used to just sit at this cool ice-cream parlor, and play ‘who can spot a celebrity first’.”

“So why’d you leave? Power troubles? That seems like the most common thing around this place.”

Jubilee nodded. “I’m sorta a walking fireworks stand – I can shoot these big globs of energy from my hands that blow up. I was breakin’ everything in my parents place, and getting worried about blinding someone or something, so here I am. I really like it here – only bad thing is there’s only one mall in town, and that’s it for like twenty miles,” she said with a grin.

The door to the elevator slid open on the ground floor. “Well, this’s my stop – gotta meet Professor Xavier. Nice to meet you, Lorna.”

“You too… Jubilation,” Lorna said, laughing when Jubilee whirled.

“Hey! I know where you live!” Jubilee said shooting her a mock glare as the door slid shut.

Lorna smiled to herself, glad she’d met the feisty young teen. She’d been slow in meeting people at the mansion and getting to know them, mainly her own fault than that of the others of the mansion – it was hard, after spending months in captivity to get back to normal.

Lorna exited the elevator to the cool-metallic halls of the subbasement. She moved past the doors to the hanger – which she hadn’t visited since she’d arrived at the mansion – and past the Medlab and exercise rooms, to a smaller door on the left side of the hall.

Thankfully the door was automatic like the one on the Medlab, so she didn’t have to set anything down or struggle to open the door. It slid open, revealing the small room which Ororo had shown her on her tour of the mansion.

One wall of the room was taken up by a low countertop, set up to allow people to set their things down, and fold their clothes on. The other wall was a bank of washers and dryers – three top-loading washing machines side-by-side next to three front-loading dryers.

She stopped in the doorway when she saw the room was already occupied – the tall form of Warren stood in front of one of the machines. He was wearing jeans, and a modified T-shirt – something he’d taken to wearing around the mansion when he wasn’t outside. He’d made long slits down the back, and it looked like he’d safety-pinned the bottom of the slit to keep the material together. His wings had been fit through the slits, and they lay tucked down on his back.

“Damnit,” Warren to himself, staring exasperatedly at a pile of clothes he’d just pulled out of the washing machine, a number of socks and shirts that appeared to have been white at one time were stained a bluish red, and several other pieces of clothing looked as if they’d faded in color.

“Warren?” Lorna said softly.

His head snapped up from the wet bundle of clothes, and he turned around to face the door. “Oh, hey Lorna – didn’t hear you come in.”

“Looks like you’re having fun,” she said, grinning slightly as she walked further into the room, and set down her armful of clothes on the countertop.

He sighed, and shook his head. “I have no idea what I did wrong.”

Lorna turned, leaving her clothes, and stepped across the room to stand next to him, looking at the clothes in amusement.

He prodded a pair of now bright pink socks. “I’ve- never really done my own laundry before… Back home we had a cleaning service that cleaned up the house, and took all our clothes and washed them and then put them back in our closets.”

“Well, you put your whites with your colors, and that can make the dyes bleed out and color your whites like this.” Lorna said.

He shook his head. “I wish they’d make it more informative – I thought whites were for just when you had white stuff, and colors were when you had a mix of stuff like this. I mean, isn’t white a color?”

Lorna clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling a giggle. “N-no, Warren,” she said, half-laughing, “colors is for everything but your white clothes. They use different water temperatures and cycles.”

He smiled wryly. “I guess so. And what the heck does permanent press mean?”

She smiled. “There are some clothes that say to wash it with that on their tags – they have some sort of chemical that prevents wrinkling, and the permanent press cycle helps it work. I use it sometimes on regular clothes too if they usually come out really wrinkly.”

“So what do I do with these now?” He said, gesturing helplessly to the pile of clothes.

“Well, you’re gonna have to run the whites through a few more times on their own, until they wash out the color,” she said. “I’m only gonna take up two machines, so go ahead and use the other one.”

Warren nodded, “Alright,” he said, and began to pick through the clothes to find the ones that had once been white.

Lorna moved her own clothes over to the two open washers, and began to load them up. She quickly shoved her undergarments pile into the machine while Warren was pre-occupied, blushing slightly at the thought of Warren seeing those – her parents had been a bit on the conservative side when it came to things like that, and it had stuck with her.

She loaded the rest of her clothing in quickly, and closed the lids to the machines. She glanced over, and her hand darted out to bat Warren’s away when he began to pushed the ‘Whites’ button.

He glanced up at her in surprise, and pulled her hand back, blushing again. “Sorry, did you put bleach in?”

He shook his head, and she moved over to a set of cabinets below the countertop on the other side of the room, and pulled out a bottle of all-fabric bleach. “Put in like half a lidfull and see how that works first.”

She started to hand the bottle to him, and then paused. “Wait – Warren, you did use detergent when you washed, right?”

“Erm… detergent?” He asked, a sheepish look on his face.

Lorna sighed, bit her lip to keep herself from laughing any harder. “You really weren’t kidding – you’ve never done this before, have you?”

He shrugged helplessly. “Nope. Never really even touched a washing machine in my life.”

She smiled warmly, and reached out to pat his shoulder. “Alright – you already know the first rule – no colored clothing with your white clothes. Second one is that you need detergent to get all the gunk out of your clothes – otherwise you’re just swishing them around in water.”

She reached out and grabbed the remaining, colored, clothes he’d left on his washer. “You don’t have many, so we can just share my washer.”

He nodded gratefully as she slid the clothes into the washer she’d already partly filled. She grabbed a bottle of detergent from the same place she’d gotten the bleach, and poured it into the compartments on top of the machines that released the detergent during the washing cycle. As she did so, she eyed Warren, making sure he’d put the right amount of bleach into his own.

She started up each washer, leaning slightly in front of him to begin the cycle for his whites, and as she pulled back, he touched her hand. “Thanks, Lorna.”

She smiled, and turned to lean her back against the washing machine which was beginning to fill with water. “No problem, Warren. Y’should have just asked for help, y’know.”

He shrugged. “Well, I guess I was kind of hoping I could figure it out on my own, and…. it’s a bit embarrassing to admit you’re clueless about cleaning your own clothes.”

Lorna nodded in understanding. “I bet. But it’s not your fault how you were raised. If there’s anything else like this, just ask me and I’ll help ya.”

He smiled, and turned to orient himself the same way she was. “Alright.”

He was quiet for several minutes, and they just sat listening to the water run, before he spoke again. “Um… maybe cooking?” He asked tentatively. “I mean, I can make sandwiches, but most things beyond that… not so much.”

Lorna laughed. “Well, I can help I guess, but I’m not that great of a cook myself.”

“Well, then… I was thinking of trying this chicken parmesan recipe I found on the internet the other day… You wanna help me cook a double serving tonight and eat with me?”

She glanced down, feeling her cheeks warm, unsure if he was asking her to dinner with him as a friend or something more – she realized she was a bit more flustered when on the receiving end of such a proposal than when she was making one, like she had with Remy. She figured it was best to assume it was as friends – she barely knew Warren, and didn’t think he’d be that interested in her – this early at least.

“Sure,” she said, smiling shyly. “Dinner.”

*****************************************************************

“Hey, Professor, there’s this bald guy with an eyepatch at the door. He had a badge and I think he’s a cop,” the shorthaired blonde teenager said through a thick wad of chewing gum as she came around the corner and saw him.

Charles smiled. “Thank you, Tabitha, I was just on my way to greet him.” He said, tapping his forehead in explanation.

“Alright, Prof. Um, could I come by later today? I’m having trouble with my chemistry homework.” She asked as he started to move past her.

“Of course. I may be a while with our guest, so why don’t you come by later this afternoon?”

“Alright, see you after lunch,” she said with a wave, moving toward the bank of computers in the computer lab.

Charles turned the corner, and moved toward the front door. He chuckled to himself when he saw that Tabitha had locked Nick out.

He reached out and unlocked the door, turning the knob. “Nick, good to see you,” he greeted, when he saw his tall friend framed by the doorway.

Nick was holding a thick manila folder under his arm, was wearing a dark leather trenchcoat and what looked like his usual uniform underneath, and he looked rather haggard, with bags visible under his eyes.

Nick nodded, shaking his hand. “Charles,” he greeted. “Your students are rather cautious about strangers,” he said, smiling slightly.

“Yes, well, I can’t really blame them, considering what happened a few months ago with Stryker.”

Nick grimaced slightly. “True, true.”

“Let’s go to my office,” Charles said.

“It looks like you’ve had a fun week,” Charles said as they reached the office and Nick shut the door behind him.

Nick groaned. “You have no idea. Finally got some sleep on the drive here, first in days.” He shook his head. “We’ve been cleaning house. It’s a long damn process, plenty of polygraphs and interrogations, and since I couldn’t trust many people, I was involved in almost all of them. Pretty sure we’ve caught everyone sympathizing with or connected to the groups we think Creed is involved in – three different people, pretty damn high up, which is the disturbing part.”

“Good you found them now, rather than later,” Charles commented.

Nick sighed. “True. I don’t want to think about what we’ve missed because of them, or what we would have missed if you hadn’t clued me in on Creed. As it is we’re going to have to go over the past year’s intelligence.”

“Anyway,” Nick said, setting the folder he carried onto his lap. He grabbed a stack of papers from the top, and passed them over to Charles. “This is the account number of a Swiss bank account, opened in the school’s name, with you as the account holder,” Nick said. “And all of the pertinent information on how to withdraw and all that.”

Charles nodded, his eyes running over the papers. “Thank you, Nick.”

Nick shrugged. “That was our deal. There’s five million in the account now, and at the beginning of the calendar year each year the same will be deposited so long as the team still exists.”

Charles’ eyebrows flew up. “Five million?” He asked incredulously. “The building and renovations only cost one and a half.”

Nick smiled. “I know. But the president gave me access to a large amount of resources to get this team together, and I’d prefer to keep those supporting the team ‘well fed’ shall we say. Besides, I know you were looking at further expansion but worried about the expenses. So – do what you’d like with the rest.”

Charles nodded, his mind speeding as he considered the possibilities. “Thank you, Nick. We’ve been planning on upgrading security, and this will easily cover the cost.”

Nick nodded. “You’re welcome. How’s the kid doing, by the way? Sharon would have my hide if I didn’t bring back an update – he was quite the welcome addition among the agents.”

Charles chuckled. “Jimmy is doing fine. He’s fitting in quite well. He’s become close to one of the girls his age, and she’s introduced him to her friends – they seem to be getting along quite well, and they’ll be a good influence on him. And he’s quite a bright young man.”

Nick flashed a grin. “That’s great. Happy to hear he’s doin’ alright.”

His fingers drummed out an irregular beat on the folder remaining in his lap. “So, Sharon said we’ve got some takers for the team?”

“Yes,” Charles said lightly. “Perhaps not as many as you’d hoped, but enough. Logan, Rogue, and Remy have all agreed, on the condition that they get to check it out and then make their final decision. Most of the others… I sensed were uncomfortable with the grey areas of it, and they declined.”

“Three’s better than none,” Nick replied, “especially since they’re the ones I’d expected would accept. If they have time, I can take them with me today and let them see what they’d be getting into.”

“I’d told them you’d be dropping by today, and I think they’ve cleared their schedules,” Charles said with a nod. “And while we’re still on the subject of those who wish to join, there was one other who expressed his wishes, but… I told him he should speak with you first as it might not be exactly approved of I would think for him to join given his past. I told him that you’d make the final decision.”

Fury’s brow furrowed slightly. “Sure. I’ll hear him out – I’m sure we can overlook whatever it is so long as you trust him.”

“Alright,” Charles said, moving his wheelchair out from behind the desk and toward the door, which he then opened, revealing the blue-skinned, three-fingered, pointy-eared man he’d summoned with his telepathy.

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Xavier said with a slight smile.

“Guten Tag, ” Kurt greeted quietly as the door closed, nodding at him.

Fury’s eyebrow rose in surprise at Kurt. “You – you’re the mutant at the White House. The teleporter.”

Kurt nodded. “Yes, I am. That ist partly vhy I have come to you to join this team. I vish to atone for those sins I committed against the government und the President.”

“I was under the impression Stryker was controlling you, Mr. Wagner.” Fury said slowly, his surprise fading.

Kurt nodded. “Ja, you are correct. But it vas my body that did it. Und I vant to save other mutants from people like Stryker and people like Creed and his Purifiers.”

Fury nodded slowly. “You’re a teleporter.” He stated.

“Ja.”

“I have a teleporter who can transport long distances, but her powers aren’t fine-tuned for short distance like yours. She’s primarily our quick getaway. Yours is much more accurate, and close range, which would put you in the missions themselves. I recall your file we took from Stryker saying you were strongly religious - are you okay with that: combat and everything? People might even die.”

Kurt lowered his gaze, and then nodded. “Ja. Even the Lord ensured his people were armed to defend themselves. Sometimes violence must be used to prevent far greater atrocities from occurring.”

Nick rubbed his hand across his stubble. “Alright, we’ll give you a trial run. Charles says he trusts you, so I trust you. If things go alright, you’re officially part of the team. Sound good?”

“Indeed,” Kurt said softly. “That sounds very good.”

“Okay then,” Nick said, extending his hand to shake Kurt’s three-fingered one. “I’m visiting to take the others to check out the operation, see the base they’ll operate from, that sort of thing. You can come along with us if you’d like to get a better idea of the team.”

Kurt smiled, the white of his teeth clashing noticeably against his blue, scarred skin. “I vould.”

Kurt then cocked his head. “The Professor ist telling me the others are on their vay here if you want to talk to them now.”

Fury chuckled. “Alright, should’ve expected Charles would know when we were done here. Let’s go meet them.”

***

“You like it, petite?” Remy asked with a grin, as Sarah rapidly devoured the chocolate-chip pancakes he’d made for her.

“Mh-hmm,” Sarah mumbled through a mouthful.

Remy took a stab into his omelet, and grabbed a bite of toast. “So what y’doin today, Chére?”

Rogue shrugged, eating her own breakfast. “Not much. Ah’ve got some homework Ah need to get done by Monday, so Ah’ll do some work on that. Other’n that, nothin’.”

He glanced over to Sarah, and almost laughed at the rim of chocolate that had developed around her lips. “What ‘bout you petite, you got much homework?”

She shook her head, and grabbed her milk to wash down a mouthful of pancake. “Just some English and History.”

“You need any help?”

Sarah nodded. “Yeah, if you could look over my answers when I’m done.”

“Alrigh’ petite. So, since none of us got much to do t’day, why don’ we go horse-ridin’ later dis afternoon? We could invite Dani ‘long too.”

Sarah’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, let’s go riding!”

“Let’s invite Lorna too,” Rogue murmured, and Remy nodded, remembering she’d wanted to include her in things around the Mansion to help her settle in.

“Alright. Maybe ‘round four or so? Dat’d give us ‘till bout eight when de sun sets. Might hafta teach Lorna, not sure if she’s ever ridden. I’ll ask her if I run into her later if she wants t’go.” Remy said.

He glanced over at the entrance as Jimmy, Sally, and a sleepy-looking Rahne filed into the kitchen.

“Help y’self to some pancakes,” he called out to them, “they’re choc’late chip. Jus’ leave one for Sarah.”

That announcement quickly woke Rahne up the rest of the way, and the three of them piled pancakes onto plates, and brought them over to a table nearby Rogue, Sarah, and Remy – far enough away that none of them could feel the effects of Jimmy’s powers – and began to eat.

Remy noticed Sarah shooting furtive glances over to the group, and grinned, knowing she wanted to join them, but also didn’t want to abandon him and Rogue. He was grateful she’d found good friends like the three youngsters digging into his pancakes – she needed it with everything that had happened to her during her life before Remy had found her.

He started to open his mouth, when Xavier’s voice in his mind caused him to freeze, and he saw Rogue stiffen slightly as well.

‘Remy, Rogue, Logan: Colonel Fury is here, and he’d like to talk to you about joining his team. I think he’s planning to take you off the mansion grounds to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters to show you what he has in mind, so I hope you have your morning clear. ’

‘I’ll be there soon, just got to finish breakfast,’ Remy sent back using his rudimentary empathy.

“Petite, why don’ you grab dat last pancake, and go eat wit’ y’friends. Rogue an’ I got to go see de Professor, an’ we might be gone de rest of de mornin’.”

She looked up at him, her eyes suddenly wide and vulnerable. “Where are you goin’? When’ll you get back?”

“De professor wants us to talk to a government man, an’ we’ll be off at his place. It’s somethin’ dat might help us catch de people behind de Tunnels. An’ we shouldn’ be long, should be back by early afternoon. I’ll make sure we’re back in time t’go ridin, hein?”

Sarah pouted slightly, but nodded. “Alright. Tell me about it when y’get back?” She asked.

He leaned across the table and kissed her forehead. “Sure thing, petite. If y’see Dani an’ Lorna, let ‘em know dey’re invited on de ride. Now behave y’self while we’re gone.”

He stood up, and grabbed a napkin from the countertop near the table, and handed it to her. “An’ make sure y’wipe off your face when you’re done eatin’ – you got a chocolate moustache.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, giggling, and took the napkin before standing up to walk to the countertop and grab the last pancake. She waved to Remy and Rogue as they finished their last bites of breakfast and stood up to go to meet Fury.

Remy shot one last glance as he walked out the door, smiling when he saw her sit down and begin to talk animatedly to her three friends, Jimmy’s powers having removed the bony growths on her face.

***

Remy, Rogue, and Logan were waiting outside the door to the office already when Nick opened it. “Ah, my new recruits,” Nick said with an easy smile. “Glad you guys could take the time to meet me.

He moved forward to shake each of their hands. “Well, I don’t want to waste your time, so why don’t we head out? I want to show you what you’ll be getting into.”

Logan nodded. “Alrigh’. Hope Charles told you we’re just checkin’ it out right now before we make our final decision.”

Nick smiled, and gestured for them to follow him as he walked toward the front door. “Of course. I’m glad you’re considering, because frankly it’s hard as hell to find mutants that can work with my team concept.”

“You said black-ops, right?” Remy asked. “I don’ want anyone from my past findin’ out I’m still alive.”

Nick nodded. “Absolutely. Code-names only. And this is a Special Access Program. More secret than Top Secret. Only a few of us in S.H.I.E.L.D. will know about the team itself, and only myself and two others know your real names and histories. And if anything does come up, we take care of our own. You don’t have anything to worry about there.”

Nick opened the door to the back of the large black SUV, and let them pile in before he moved to the front passenger door and climbed in next to the young blonde-haired man who was driving. He nodded, and the man started up the vehicle, and pulled out toward the street.

The four of them were quiet on the drive, following Nick’s example. They realized that he did not want to speak about the team in front of the driver, who was likely well below the level of classification needed to know about the team. Likely all he knew was that the Director was transporting three people, and one blue-skinned mutant somewhere, and that was all he needed to know.

Before long they reached a private airfield in the countryside outside of the city, and their SUV pulled to a halt next to a sleek black attack helicopter resting on the tarmac.

Fury led them toward the side door, and slid it open. He grabbed several headsets and passed them out to them. “You’ll need these – it’s loud as hell once the rotors start up. There’s two channels on these – Channel 1 is the general broadcast and goes to the pilot. Channel 2, only these sets have access to so the pilot can’t hear anything on them. If you want to talk about anything about the project with each other or with me, that’s what you use.”

Once they’d nodded in understanding, and he’d moved so they could climb in, he ran around to the co-pilot’s seat, and whirled his hand above his head, and the pilot instantly started up the engine and began spooling up the rotor.

“Welcome aboard, folks,” the pilot’s voice came over the headsets once they’d put them on. “Buckle in, and we’re outta here.”

Logan slid the crash restraint on almost unconsciously, and then paused as he buckled in the last bit, realizing he’d known how to do it without remembering having ever done it. He shook his head – obviously he’d spent plenty of time on military helicopters in his past, enough for his subconscious to buckle him in without thinking about it.

Logan sighed at yet another hint of his past, and tried to push it out of mind as he leaned over to help Kurt, who was fumbling with it – his three-fingered hand likely the cause.

Remy, having helped Rogue with hers, slid into his, and then felt a jolt as the helicopter left the ground, quickly picking up speed. As it banked to turn east, Remy looked down and grinned at Rogue who found herself pressed more closely against him because of the maneuver. He reached down and slid his hand into hers, and she smiled back, and then leaned up to clumsily kiss his nose, their headsets thunking together as she did so.

The ride, while longer than the car ride, was also rather short, and soon enough they found themselves at a rather high altitude, well above a cloudbank. The last they’d seen of the ground was the edge of New York City, and they’d flown at least ten minutes past that.

“Where we headed?” Remy asked over the com.

Nick craned his head back, and grinned. “You’ll see. Any minute now.”

And as he gestured out the front windscreen of the helicopter, they gained a slight amount of altitude, and broke through the final bank of clouds into wide, open blue sky underlain with rolling white clouds that looked like someone’s model of an ocean in the sky.

“Mein Gott,” Nightcrawler breathed over the comm, and Remy heard a gasp from Rogue.

“Damn,” Remy said, deciding to add his own input.

They weren’t reacting to the view, which was breathtaking in its own right. Rather, they were reacting to the enormous airship that hung suspended in the sky above the cloudbank.

It was a massive vehicle, its flat black top deck and control tower rising above it causing it to look much like the deck of an aircraft carrier. And from its size, and a number of helicopters and sleek fighter jets lining either side of two lined runways, Remy realized that was exactly what it was: an aircraft carrier, equal in size to at least one of the smaller ones used by the US Navy, hanging thousands of feet in the air above the state of New York.

It wasn’t exactly like a water-borne carrier, of course – beneath the massive flat deck, was a bulbous, yet streamlined structure in place of a hull, and along the bottom of that protruded several large turbines that spun visible, and appeared to be providing thrust as well as directional control: one rotated slightly as he watched.

And yet like an aircraft carrier, at least more recent ones, Remy could see several weapons emplacements along the outer edge of the deck, and a visible SAM launcher rotating on the control tower. Below the decking he saw other less conspicuous gun ports lining the ‘hull’ of the vessel.

Remy thought he heard Nick chuckle over the intercom at their reactions. “Alright, hang on, we’re headed in. Control said there’s a few spots of choppy air right now, so it’ll be a little bumpy landing.” Nick said over the intercom.

True that prediction, as they neared the massive ship, the helicopter began to bounce and sway, but their pilot seemed to expertly correct for each – likely spurred on to fly it perfectly by the fact that his boss was in the seat next to him.

As they neared, the massive carrier seemed to grow in size, and they realized its true extent when they saw the tiny figures of humans on the flight deck guiding them in.

After negotiating his way through one more bumpy air current, the pilot slowed their approach, and they slowly came to a hover above the deck and lowered down until the landing gear hit the tarmac.

“Alright, takes a while for the rotor to stop turning, so when you get out, just keep your head down until you get away from the helicopter.” Fury said, before removing his headset, placing it next to him on the seat, and opening the door.

He ducked down as he exited, and then slid their door open, allowing them out. They moved, their legs slightly unsteady from the flight, away from the helicopter and toward a pretty blonde-haired woman dressed in a uniform that looked almost identical to Fury’s, sans the trenchcoat, who stood waiting for them on the deck.

“Good flight?” She shouted over the noise of the nearby helicopter and the gusting wind that blew across the deck.

Fury nodded, and gestured for them all to walk toward an recessed set of stairs that led down below the deck. Inside, the halls were narrow, much like that of a regular aircraft carrier or any other ship. The walls were painted white, and bare pipes and conduits ran along the ceiling overhead.

They stopped briefly at a guard desk, and had their photos taken, the pictures printed off onto visitor badges, which they each clipped to their shirts.

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Special Agent Sharon Carter,” Fury began as they reached a hallway past the desk, “She’s my best agent, and one of those two people I mentioned that will know the full details of the operation.”

“Sharon, I’m sure you recognize these three from the files. And this is Kurt Wagner.”

Sharon smiled. “It’s nice to meet you all in person. Welcome to the USS Hermes,” she said, gesturing at the ship around her. “What do you think of her?”

“Pretty damn impressed. Shit, what is this thing?” Logan asked.

Sharon smiled, and Nick gestured for them to follow him as they walked down the corridor and down several flights of stairs to another level. “This is what we like to call a ‘Helicarrier’,” Sharon said, “made exclusively for S.H.I.E.L.D.. Air Force is trying to get some of their own but it’ll take them a while because we have more resources than they do – we have six Helicarriers right now with six more in the works, expected to be done in the next year or so. They’re mobile bases we can stage from, and we have one in each major region of the country.”

“The Hermes stays around the New York area most of the time,” Sharon continued, “the next closest to us is USS Icarus, which is usually stationed around Norfolk and Richmond. We have one to the north of St. Louis, another near Cheyenne, one by Dallas, and another near L.A. – that’s the one we staged from for the Alcatraz operation.”

“How does dis thing say in de air?” Remy asked.

Fury chuckled. “That was my exact thought years back when the plans came to my desk. First off, this whole ship is made of some sort of carbon-fiber alloy material, which I guess gives the same strength as regular metal but with a lot less weight. Weighs maybe half what a structure of metal this size would be,” he said, patting the painted wall as he walked.

“We use a gas mixture, helium and hydrogen in two big air bladders that run down either side of the core of the ship, to keep her afloat. The turbines on the outside can provide a bit of lift, and they’re really good for maneuvering. Besides those, we let up on heating the gas if we want to start descending, and heat it more if we want to climb higher. Entire place is powered by an arc-reactor courtesy of Stark Industries.”

“Um, how high are we?” Rogue asked.

“Only 6500 feet right now. We can climb quite a bit higher, though if we need to. Just easier for the helicopters to get here if we’re down this low.”

Rogue’s brow furrowed. “How is it that no one can see yah when it’s not cloudy?”

“Active camouflage all along the bottom. We’ve all these little cameras all across the top that take video of the sky above us, and the computer plays that image along the bottom. Not perfect if you were a few hundred feet below us – you’d notice distortions – but at our height no one on the ground can tell the difference. Airlines can see us if they get close, but they’re redirected around us.”

“This’s…. pretty cool,” Remy said, at loss for a decent word to describe the fact that he was in a several hundred ton structure suspended over a mile in the air.

“Figured you’d all like it,” Fury said, opening a door. He stepped back and let them file into a large conference room. It was at least twice the size of their ‘War Room’ at the mansion, with a long oak table taking up the center of the room, and plush leather rolling chairs surrounding it. It was apparently situated on the side of the large Helicarrier, and one side of the room was a wall of thick windows, that appeared to be made of a similar glass-plastic mix of layers used in cockpit windows on airliners.

“Have a seat, we have a lot to discuss, and I’m sure you have plenty of questions for me.” Fury said, and sat down at one end of the table, Sharon moving to sit next to him.

He grabbed several papers from the folder at his side, and passed them out to them. “First off, you need to sign these. They’re basic nondisclosure agreements, saying that you’ll not reveal anything you learn here today to anyone if you decide not to join the team. Just a legal ‘cover our asses’ paper.”

Remy grabbed it, skimming it quickly with his eyes, and then signed it, handing the pen to Rogue, who’d sat down next to him.

Remy folded his hands as Kurt and Logan signed theirs, and passed them back to Fury. “So, tell us a bit more ‘bout dese positions.”

Fury smiled, and set the folder he’d been carrying the entire time down on the table in front of him. “Alright. As we’ve established, this is a black ops team. We don’t exist officially. If anyone gets captured, we publically deny knowledge of you. Now, that doesn’t mean we abandon you, we just can’t acknowledge you exist to anyone. You get captured somehow, and we’ll get you out of there covertly. We don’t leave our men behind.”

“We need a group of super-powered humans, like yourselves, to keep up with the dangers to the nation that others, like Magneto and even non-mutant terrorists. You’ll basically be the secret Avengers, doing things that they cannot. Mostly it will be missions similar to your raid on the Purifiers two weeks back, sometimes not in country – S.H.I.E.L.D. has some strong international ties aside from being an integral part of this country. Think sort of a mutant Rainbow Six, if you’re a fan of Clancy,” Nick said, grinning slightly.

Remy found his hands moving out of habit toward his deck of cards to shuffle them like he usually did when he was in a situation like this, it helped him think, but he forced his hands to still, and gave them the concession of reaching out to grab Rogue’s hands under the table.

“Assassinations?” Remy asked.

Fury shook his head. “No. Very rarely you might act as backup to cover during one, but one of the mutants already on the team is already designated for the act itself. We try to avoid those if we can though. You might have to kill people in the course of your missions, though, but no blatant preplanned assassinations.”

Remy shrugged. “Well den, not much I haven’ done already in de past,” he said.

Rogue bit her lip. “What else can yah tell us ‘bout it?”

“You’ll be on call on weekends, and stand-down during weekdays except during the summer: I understand you’ve got lives and are either attending school or reaching. In the summer you’ll be on call all week – and I’ll want you all to have at least one training exercise in the next few weeks before you start going on real missions.”

“You can expect a mission every few weeks on average, and if we call you during the week, it’s just whoever can show up at the time. We’ll provide transport from the airfield we just left from, you just have to get there yourselves. If we need you quickly we’ll send our own transports to get you there.”

“Sharon here will be your official liaison,” Nick said, nodding toward Sharon, “she’ll be the one that primarily contacts you and gives you the mission briefings, simply because I’m needed in many places.”

“Your official titles will be ‘Special Agent’ with S.H.I.E.L.D., and if you’re still all in after our tour of the place, we’ll get you Top Secret clearance and Special Access clearance. We’ll set you up with a secure computer station at the mansion in the next few weeks so you can access the S.H.I.E.L.D. database from there for Xavier’s missions or your own planning for S.H.I.E.L.D. ops.”

“Pay and benefits?” Logan asked, speaking up.

“Well, you’d start out as GS-12s – that’s about $60,000 a year fulltime. Of course, you’re only working part time, so to be fair to others we’ll give you half – even though you’re not working half. So around 30,000 a year. Benefits – full benefits and retirement package. Best of any government agency. I’ll give you a brochure before you sign any contracts so you can look it over yourself. Full insurance coverage with disability, dental, vision, the works. I’m on the same plan, and I’m damn happy with it.”

Rogue sucked in a breath at the thought of making 30,000 a year. She’d had a total of one job at a fast-food joint in Meridian before her powers had emerged, and had made minimum wage. This was a lot more than that, just for keeping weekends open for missions that might happen every few weeks.

She felt Remy’s fingers tap across the top of her hand, and she glanced over to see him deep in thought. “That’s… pretty good, right?” She asked.

Remy nodded at the same time as Fury. “Pretty good,” Remy agreed. “I like it.”

Even Logan, who Rogue knew was inherently suspicious of government agencies after what had been done to him, nodded in agreement. “Me too.”

Fury settled back into his chair, visibly relieved at their reaction, having been worried before about their skepticism. He couldn’t blame them, though, given what they’d experienced at the hands of Stryker and his group.

“Okay, good,” he said, and spread out several folders that had been inside the larger one, in front of himself and Sharon. “Now I’ve got some questions for you. I need to know your full capabilities. Intelligence from various sources on your abilities is all well and good, but I’d like to hear it from the horse’s mouth as it were.”

“Logan, you’re probably the only one I think we know most everything about. After Stryker went rogue, we recovered a lot of his older files from the original Weapon X that worked on you, and they had pretty detailed files: extremely rapid healing, full adamantium skeleton including claws, enhanced senses and agility. That sound about right?”

Logan nodded, a grimace on his face. “That’s right. Bigger injuries take me longer to recover from, but not much more than an hour if it’s real bad.”

Fury pulled a pen from his trenchcoat pocket and scribbled a note in one of the folders that held a picture of Logan stapled to one side. Then he grabbed the next one, and flipped it open. “Kurt. Teleportation, extreme range of flexibility, you used to be in the circus, prehensile tail. Sound right? What are the limits of your teleporting?”

“Ja, that is right. I do not think I haff found my limits, but I haff gotten tired if I teleport more than a few miles. It is even worse if I haff to teleport others with myself.” Kurt said, his tail swaying behind him in the seat.

Fury made another note, and then turned to Remy, whose file was much thicker than the others, even Logan’s. “And the infamous Mr. LeBeau, the White Devil of Louisiana,” Nick said with a warm smile. “I hope you know you’ve been the bane of our Property Crimes department for years now.”

Remy chuckled. “I guess I’ll hafta take dat as a compliment.”

Nick nodded. “Alright, we’ll skip over the martial arts which you seem to be quite proficient at – so you’ve got some sort of healing factor, much slower than Logan’s. Your main ability is some sort of kinetic explosive ability – you charge things up and they explode after a certain delay. I think we’ve got a good idea of your power – that theater explosion that killed two dozen was what put us on to you being a mutant. Horrible way to find out you’re a mutant,” he said sympathetically.

Rogue’s gaze snapped to Remy, and she saw him nod with a strained expression on his face, his eyes avoiding hers. She’d known he’d blown up a theater – he’d told her as much – but not that people had died.

‘How much guilt does he have hidden away?’ she wondered sadly, and squeezed his hand tightly to give him as much support as she could. She could relate to the emergence of his powers in a way, although the person harmed had not died in her case, he was still deep in a coma.

Remy’s eyes moved over to meet hers, and a hesitant smile came on his face at the gesture. “It is,” Remy agreed with Fury with a low voice. “But I’ve come a long way from den and have pretty full control. Den I blew up de floor, which took out de supports for de roof. Back at de Purifiers I did de same, but if I really wanted to, I could’ve charged up de entire Purifier base. Woulda left me bone tired, but coulda been done. Probably taken out everythin’ within a mile of it.”

Fury glanced up from the folder in surprise. “That’s… impressive. It seems our profilers underestimated you.”

Remy gave him a wan smile. “Most usually do. Their mistake.”

Nick laughed. “I’m sure. I think our Property Crimes Division can attest to that firsthand. They’ve been trying to pin something to you for years now.” He glanced back down at the file. “And you’re banned from New Orleans on threat of death from the Assassin’s Guild? Something about the death of the son of the head of the Guild and some spat with his daughter?”

Remy grimaced, and nodded. “Oui. Rather not get into dat one. Jus’ know if you get a job for N’awlins, I’ll be sittin’ it out. Nearly got killed a month back by de other son when someone put a bounty on my head, so it’s pretty clear it is still fresh for dem.”

Fury nodded. “Fair enough. No New Orleans missions. Anything I missed?”

“Immunity to telepathy,” Remy said, tapping his forehead. “My head makes sorta a static to telepaths. I c’n hear an’ pick up broadcasted messages, but dey can’ influence my mind.”

“Interesting…” Fury said, making a note of that.

He then closed his file and picked up the final one. “Last but not least, Rogue. You’re one of the most unique mutants I’ve heard of. Skin that can absorb memories and mutant powers during skin-to-skin contact, adverse effect on the person being absorbed. Your power could have so many applications.”

Rogue nodded, squeezing Remy’s hand again. “Ah- Ah hope th’Professor told you Ah’m not very comfortable usin’ it. If Ah join, yah’ve gotta understand that. It depends on how mah mind is at the time, an’ if Ah think Ah can handle another person right then. If Ah can’t, or its someone Ah really don’ want rattlin’ around up there, Ah won’ do it.”

“I understand completely. You won’t be forced to do anything with your power that you don’t want to do.”

He glanced down at the folder then, tapping the paper with his pen. “That about it? Nothing we missed or underestimated?”

“Actually, yeah, there is – somethin’ Ah think’ll be more reliable for you than mah other powers. A few weeks ago, Ah absorbed a young woman. She was dyin’ already, an’ she touched me an’ Ah absorbed her completely. She was a mutant, with a suppression collar, an’, at least so far, Ah’ve had her powers since then.”

“Permanent absorption?” Nick asked, surprised.

Rogue nodded. “Th’Professor thinks so.”

“Alright. What are they?”

“Ah can fly – still getting’ a handle on that one. Ah’m pretty close t’invincible – Ah got shot after Ah absorbed her, an’ it hurt like hell, but the bullets just flattened on my skin. An’ some sorta enhanced strength.”

“Well, that’s actually perfect. We had basically a ‘strongman’ on the team, but his family was recently killed, and he’s been on leave since. If I can also bring cases to you and let you decide on getting information from them using your powers, I think this’ll work quite well,” Nick said.

He straightened the papers, and closed his folders. “I think that’s all that I needed. Let’s show you around, let you meet the others, and then we’ll get to contracts and all that. Ms. Carter will show you around – I need to attend to something. I’ll be back here when you’re done,” he said, pulling out a vibrating cell-phone.

He stood, and walked toward the door, bringing the phone up to his ear. He answered it, his voice muffled in the hall but clear enough to hear him say, “Mister President…. Yes, that’s what I wanted to discuss…”

Sharon smiled apologetically. “Sorry, he was going to give you the tour himself, but he’s been trying to get a hold of the President since this morning.”

Logan shook his head. “No problem. ‘Sides, you’re our liaison, might as well get t’know you.”

Sharon stood. “True.” She glanced at her watch. “I think we should be able to catch one or two of the team in the mess hall if we leave now. This way.”

She led them down the corridor to the right, and then through a maze of side-corridors. She looked back at them with amusement. “Don’t worry about getting lost your first few times up here – it takes a while to get the hang of the hallways. If you can find one of the big intersections like that one,” she said pointing down the hall to where one main corridor crossed another, “they usually have a map posted that you can use.”

Sharon pointed down another hall. “Down in that direction, the corridors end where they come up against the starboard air bladder compartment. To get onto the port side of the ship you need to either go down to one of the bottom levels and cross under it, or around to the fore or aft and go around it.”

“This is the starboard mess hall,” she said as she stopped in front of an open doorway that led to a large mess hall filled with tables which were mostly occupied by S.H.I.E.L.D. workers, smells of the lunch being served wafting through the air toward them. Her eyes scanned the crowd for several moments, before shaking her head. “Not here – we’ll have to find them as we go.”

“So what’s your story?” Rogue asked Sharon as they continue walking. “How’d yah get into S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Well, I grew up in a big military family. My great-grandfather and father were both in the Army, and my father was a Green Beret. I think he was hoping for a son to continue the tradition, but all he got was me, so he encouraged me as I grew up to consider serving like he and his father and his father before him did.”

“He was a little disappointed I didn’t go straight military, but when I went into intelligence, he was happy. I joined the CIA first,” she continued, “and worked there for several years. Then Nick found me, and he recruited me to S.H.I.E.L.D., and I’ve been working here since.”

“Ever done somethin’ like this before? Takin’ lead of a team of super-powered people?” Logan asked.

Sharon smiled, and nodded. “Yes, in fact. I helped Nick start the Avenger Initiative, and I’ve worked with them until this team started. I’m pretty used to all this stuff.”

“It’s nice to be around people that aren’t scared’a us for bein’ mutants.” Logan said.

Sharon nodded. “I’m sure. I think you’ll find that you have a lot more support than you might think. Unfortunately we can’t take an official stand as a government agency, but I’d say that well over three-quarters of S.H.I.E.L.D. employees are mutant-rights supporters when we go to the polls and vote. You probably have a lot more support in the country than you think, too – unfortunately the most vocal out there are the mutant hate groups.”

Logan shrugged. “I guess that’s usually the case, the nutjobs are usually the ones screaming the loudest.”

Sharon spotted someone ahead of them, and called out to her. “Clarice! Wait up, I’ve got some people for you to meet.”

The person ahead of them stopped, and turned. She looked mostly like an average female in her late twenties, her face long and delicate, with high cheekbones. Her ears were longer than most, and came to a point at the top, giving her an elfin look. It was her other features, though, that gave her away as a mutant. Her hair was almost the same exact shade of pink as Sarah’s. Her skin was a vivid mix of pink and magenta – pink for the most part, with dark magenta marks on her face, near her eyes, which were completely pupil-less, and tinted only a whitish green color.

“Clarice, these are Nick’s recruits,” Sharon said, and introduced each of them in turn.

Clarice smiled shyly. “Nice t’meet you. I’m Blink in the field, but you can just call me Clarice. I’m pretty much the teleporter: I’ll be your transportation in and out of missions, but I don’t really get involved in the actual action.”

Sharon gestured to Kurt. “Kurt here is a teleporter as well, he’ll be going in with the team.”

Clarice grinned, and reached out to shake Kurt’s hand. “Nice to meet someone else that can teleport.”

Kurt nodded. “Ja. I’m more close range than you I guess.” He said, and then vanished in a puff of dark purplish smoke, reappearing several feet away.

Clarice’s eyes widened. “That’s – yeah, I can take big groups of people, and go a long distance, but it takes a lot of concentration to do something like that,” she said, nodding toward the dissipating cloud he’d left behind.

She smiled at them apologetically, and looked to Sharon. “I’ve gotta get going – Dom wants me to turn in these parts requisition forms. It was good to meet you guys.”

Sharon touched her arm as she turned to go. “Actually, we’re looking for them – where are they?”

“Oh – down in the Vehicle Bay. Dom’s got some crazy idea for modifying the X2, and she’s convince Jamie on it. Same old,” Clarice said, and then waved to the four of them, shooting a wink to Kurt, who Rogue thought almost appeared to be blushing.

Sharon turned back to the group. “Alright, the Vehicle Bay she’s talking about is off this way,” she said, and started leading them down a side corridor. “We actually have several across the ship, but this is the one that you guys will be based out of. We keep the special-ops helicopters and VTOLs in this one – all we have to do is slide them out on the elevator up to the top deck and they’re ready to fly.”

***

The Vehicle Bay was situated on the top two floors, closest to the flight deck of the Helicarrier. The entrance was on the second level, and as they walked in, the cavernous space took up the area of two different floors. Inside, the Bay itself was at least the size of a football field, and filled with a number of sleek, rather advanced looking helicopters, VTOL carriers like the ones they’d seen flying toward Alcatraz as they left, and several F-22 Raptors.

Sharon led them through the rows of aircraft, to near the edge of the room where large hangar doors were shut against the outside air, the windows showing a view of the clouds they hovered above.

A large, smooth-lined helicopter sat on the hangar floor – it looked more like an aerodynamic Corvette or Dodge Viper automobile than a typical helicopter. It was one of the most peculiar helicopters Remy had ever seen – its tail rotor was not oriented in line with the midline bisector of the body, but rather at a right angle to it; and above the body of the helicopter, it had not one, but two rotors, one above the other. The muzzles of two machine guns were slung under the cockpit, and two stubby wings jutted out of either side of the passenger compartment, each holding two missiles.

Near the helicopter, someone had set up a large folding table and spread blueprints across it in front of two people who stood over them having a quiet discussion.

The man, who was facing their direction, was tall even leaning down over the table, with dark hair, and cobalt blue eyes. His features were pleasing enough to be called handsome, in a rugged sort of way, and he was somewhere in his early thirties. He was dressed in a black pair of pants, and his shirt was green, with a yellow design on the front consisting of six circles – three on either side of his chest – connected together with lines.

The woman on the other side of the table from him was shorter and had chin-length black hair brushed back away from her face. The skin of her neck visible to them appeared to be chalk-white in color. She was wearing shin-high combat boots, and was dressed in a black leather form-fitting bodysuit that left very little to the imagination. A pair of matching black fingerless gloves adorned her hands, and a belt hung around her waist, holding two holstered Walther P99 semi-automatic pistols.

“..see, I think if we just open her up here and run the wiring through with all of these wires, we can pull it off. It’s not like we’re rewiring the entire chopper or anything, just adding a little more to get a better night-vision system in,” she said, as they came within earshot.

The man nodded his head. “No, you’re right. I think I that’ll work. We just need those parts from Clarice.”

Sharon cleared her throat, and they both glanced up at her, which revealed that the woman’s eyes were a light blue, and that her skin was indeed chalk white, with the exception of a large oval of pure black skin around her left eye that ran from her forehead above her eyebrow, down along the side of her nose, and down to her cheekbone. She didn’t appear to be much older than Remy, and at least a few years younger than the man she’d been talking to.

“Jamie, Domino, I’d like you to meet Nick’s recruits – they’ll be your new teammates.” She gestured to them. “This is Kurt, Rogue, Gambit, and-“

“Logan!” The young woman Sharon had referred to as Domino exclaimed, her face lighting up in a surprised smile. She moved forward, and pulled Logan into a hug.

“Neena?” Logan asked, staring down at the young woman in confusion.

She nodded into his chest, and then pulled back, leaning her head back to look at his face. “I go by ‘Domino’ now. God, how’ve you been?”

He shook his head, and a smile appeared on his face, the cautious and suspicious front he’d had during the entire tour and meeting disappearing. “Good. How ‘bout you? It’s been, what, ten years?”

“Getting by. And nope, it’s been fourteen – I’m twenty-four now.” She said.

Rogue forced down a tendril of jealousy at Logan – his expression toward Domino was the almost parental, loving one he had around her, but she knew it was foolish to think she’d been the only one in Logan’s life like that, and felt a little silly at the feeling that had just come to her.

Logan placed his hands on her shoulders, and looked her up and down. “You, um…. grew up…”

Domino laughed softly, “Yes, Logan, that’s usually what ten year olds do. I’ll take it as a compliment I guess.”

Logan shook his head again. “Wow – it’s great to see you again. What – how’d you get into… all this?” He asked, gesturing down at the S.H.I.E.L.D. badge attached to her belt next to her handgun, and then the Helicarrier around them.

She shrugged slightly. “Long story. John died, ‘bout a year after you left, and I got thrown into the system, and got sick of being shuttled to foster parent after foster parent that couldn’t deal with me. Figured I’d use my powers for somethin’ useful and apprenticed with a bounty hunter when I was fifteen. Then I went out on my own as a contract mercenary. Nick’s contracted me a few times, and we got along pretty well so he offered me a job – pays a hell of a lot better, more job security, so I jumped at the chance.”

“Sorry I wasn’t there for ya. Y’should’ve told me,” Logan began, but she shook her head.

“Logan, you weren’t exactly in the best shape to take care of a kid back then – I couldn’t do that to you. And by the time I started bounty huntin’ and tried to look you up, you’d dropped off the map.”

Logan grimaced, “Yeah, guess I wasn’t, I –” He glanced around, realizing Rogue, Remy, Kurt, and the others were watching the two of them with amused expressions. “Let’s… catch up later.”

A slight pink dusted Domino’s pale white cheeks when she noticed as well. “Alright, later.”

Logan shot the others a sheepish smile. “Guys, this is Neena – used to be friends with her stepdad way back, and I stayed with them for a few months.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Domino said warmly, moving away from Logan and shaking their hands.

Remy shook hers last, shooting her a small grin. “Now, you wouldn’ happen t’be the Domino – de femme who took out de head of de L.A. Yakuza from a mile away wit’ a single shot before de three people from de Assassin’s Guild had even set up for their shots, would you?”

Domino’s face broke into a broad grin. “Yep, that would be me. Certainly didn’t put me in the Guild’s good books.”

“Non, it didn’t. But de Thieves Guild sure loved rubbin’ it in their faces.” Remy shook his head. “That’s a hell of a shot.”

“Well, that’s my gig – I’m lucky. Some mumbo-jumbo about subconscious telekenetics, when I asked the scientists here, but basically if I act toward something, I can influence its probability the way I want it. That’s why I got into the business,” she said, tapping the handguns at her belt.

Jamie turned his head from the conversation as another person walked up toward them, having emerged from the nearby helicopter wearing a greasy military mechanic’s coveralls.

“Hydraulics line looks fine, patched up the fuel line from that bullet we took,” he said to Jamie.

Rogue did a double take when she realized he looked exactly the same as Jamie. “Yah twins?”

Jamie looked back to the group, and then laughed. “No, that’s me.” He snapped his fingers twice, and two more duplicates of himself appeared on either side of them. “We’re all me,” they said together, grinning.

Domino rolled her eyes, “Oh quit showing off, Jamie,” she said, slapping him on the arm, which had the unintended effect of knocking out another duplicate.

He did the mature thing, and stuck out his tongue at her, before reaching out and absorbing the duplicates back into himself, including the one who’d come from the helicopter.

“Vhere do the, um, clothes go?” Kurt asked.

Jamie shrugged. “No clue. Just works out somehow. Apparently nobody has a clue how my powers work – goes completely against conservation of mass and all that junk.”

He spread his hands. “So, whaddaya think – Fury said you all were a ‘maybe’ before – you wanna join the team?”

Logan nodded first, glancing to Domino. “Wasn’t entirely sure before, but yeah, I’m in.”

Remy and Rogue nodded together, and Kurt finally nodded as well.

“Good to hear,” Nick’s voice boomed from behind them. “Let’s get your contracts and things together, and then we’re done.” He said, obviously off of his phone call to the President.

***

Several minutes later, after Domino pried a promise from Logan of talking later over several beers, the four new teammates found themselves back in the conference room, their contracts in front of them.

Remy’s eyes were flicking over page after page, as the others slowly struggled through the dense legalese inherent in a government contract, his training and memory letting him digest it much quicker than they could.

He finally sighed, and grabbed the pen Fury had given them, and scribbled out his signature in the several dozen places in the document that asked for it, and then slid the closed contract back to Fury.

Rogue glanced up, a rather hopeless look in her eyes at trying to ensure she knew what she was signing. “Remy?”

He glanced over at Fury. “All dese contracts de same?”

Fury nodded. “All except the last page of Rogue’s – I put in a provision that lets her ignore orders to use her absorbing powers if she feels it will be a hazard to herself.”

Remy leaned over and took it from her unresisting hands, and flipped her conntract to the last page, and read it. Then he smiled, and nodded to her. “Everythin’ looks good, Chére – I’d sign it at least. Go ‘head, you don’ hafta strain your eyes over it.”

She nodded, glad that he’d understood what she’d been getting at, and began to sign it, before passing it to Fury.

“Thanks,” she whispered to him, and she reached under the table to squeeze his hand, and found herself grabbing his thigh instead, causing him to nearly jump out of the seat.

‘Sorry,’ she mouthed, blushing furiously as she snatched her hand away from his leg.

He shot her a grin, and then grabbed her hand like she’d been attempting.

Across the table, Kurt glanced at the two contracts, and then began signing his own – while his English was decent speaking-wise, he was still working on reading, and the terms used in the contract seemed like gibberish to him, so he decided to trust Remy’s analysis.

As Logan turned his own over to Fury, Nick pulled out four thick black wallet-sized bundles, and set them on the table. He glanced over to Remy. “Let me see yours,” he said.

Remy reluctantly pulled his fake S.H.I.E.L.D. badge from the pocket of his trenchcoat, and slid it over to Fury.

Nick flipped it open, and glanced it over, a low whistle escaping his mouth. “Shit, this is good work. Probably fool most S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Where’d you get it?”

“A friend. It’s one of a kind, if dat’s what you’re getting’ at. We’re good friends an’ dis is somethin’ m’friend would make only for me.”

Fury let out a small chuckle at the small amount of information Remy had given him. “Fair enough,” he said, tossing it back to him. “But these – these are the real deal. RFID chips inside the CAC will get you access to any S.H.I.E.L.D. computer terminal and any of our installations. Probably into most other agencies, though I’d like you to keep that to as much of a minimum as possible.”

He picked up one of the badges. “We used the pictures you took for your visitor badges. If you don’t like ‘em, we can get you a new picture later, but these are yours now.”

He grabbed them one by one, and tossed each to their new owner. “Folks, welcome to X-Force.”

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A/N: Hey everyone, hope y’all liked it. It ended up growing to massive proportions beyond what I’d planned, so you’ll see the other big event I’d planned in the next chapter instead of with this one.

Hopefully it was a decent mix of relationships and plot advancement, and hope Kurt’s accent was alright. More on Dom, Jamie, and Clarice in future X-Force chapters. As you can see – Logan, despite having lost his memory of his past life before Weapon X, still has quite a bit that’s happened since then.

S.H.I.E.L.D. and X-Force will begin to have a bigger part in future chapters, and even more so in the sequel. Creed’s plans will begin making more sense with the next chapter, and things will slowly start to kick into gear for the final chapter.

As a side note, I’ve started a forum (can be seen in my profile) about writing, mainly lots of tips for beginners, but I’m sure even seasoned writers can find useful stuff. Feel free to post on them with your own questions or tips.