Thanks to Chris Dickinson for letting me use his title for this series and Luba Kmetyk for her ideas and support.

"What's this?", you ask? Why is Xavier worm-bait? Well, it's simple: The Shadow King squooshed him to a bloody pulp during the Muir Island Saga. What do you mean it didn't happen that way? Of course it did! Or at least, it should have been that way. That's why this is here...

COVER: Alysdane Stuart, in full Brigadier's uniform, in a bureaucrat-type office. Her arms are crossed over her chest, she's scowling, she is NOT happy. She's facing the door (one of those jobs with the top frosted glass and the bottom wood), which is open a fraction of an inch. The person about to enter is silhouetted against the glass has a high-collared trench-coat on, a cigarette in his mouth, and unkempt hair.

Author's notes: What has gone before... wait, I can't use that! *sigh* Anyway, last issue, Excalibur kicked some Marauder ass, W.H.O came to cart off the Marauders, seven extra people moved into the lighthouse, and Amanda found out (via Rachel) that the Marauders made morgue fodder of her friends back in New York. Even better, Sinister blew the captured Marauders into Kibbles & Bits, wrecking W.H.O's holding cells in the process. Big fun, right?

For the fifth straight day in a row, it was rain. It wasn't a minute drizzle or a persistent shower. It was a constant hail of fat droplets driven by gusty winds. Katherine Pryde stared out of the rolled up window of Alistaire Stuart's car, trying not to be obvious about how attracted she was to him. She turned her face away from the scenery and stared at his face, concentrating fiercely.

'Alistaire!' she thought. 'Look this way! Notice what a romantic background rainy countryside makes! Think SOMETHING mushy!'

Alistaire, for his part, continued humming along with the classical music flowing from the car's radio. Kitty sighed and turned back to the window. At least she was getting out of the lighthouse with him, even if he did just want her to give him a hand down in his lab at W.H.O's (Weird Happenings Organization) base. Another hour cooped up in that loony bin and Kitty Pryde would have been driven to desperate measures to keep herself occupied, like talking to Captain Britain. At least now she could work towards a goal that seemed as distant as Xavier's dream... getting Alistaire Stuart to notice that she was alive.

In her office, Brigadier Alysdane Stuart was flipping moodily through a plain manila folder that had been the focus of all of her energies for the better part of a week. It was important enough to put the investigation of the ruined holding cells under the supervision of Lt. Thorpe.

The file contained a missings person's report and this was the first crack that she had gotten at it. Though she had been over it to the point where she could have recited the file's contents and all information in it with her eyes closed, Alysdane continued to pore through it, filling a legal pad with ideas that ranged from plausible to downright silly. Nothing. There was an explanation, she knew it. If only... A knock sounded on her office door.

"What?!" she snapped, closing the file. The door opened and her brother, Alistaire, walked in. His black hair was plastered to his head and the rest of him was soaked to the skin. The puce sweater-vest underneath his corduroy jacket looked as if it were shrinking rather quickly. His white shirt as well as his slacks were terminaly rumpled and his knee-high socks were down around his ankles. All in all, her twin looked like some sort of particularly pathetic drowned rodent. A smile flexed Alysdane's lips briefly. Alistaire noticed.

"Well, I'm glad that something good came of that beastly dash across the parking lot. It's not fit weather for anything out there." Alistaire was glad that his miserable condition had at least elicited that quick smile from his sibling. She had been too dour as of late, even for her. He knew the reason, though. "No luck?"

Alysdane's flash of good humor bled away. "NONE!" She slammed her hand on the desk, releasing only a fragment of her pent-up frustration. Alistaire backed up several steps, giving his sister room to pace. This was as close to a temper-tantrum as Alysdane had come since she was a child. "Damn Dai Thomas and his half-baked bobbies! If they'd let me latch my people onto this case earlier...!"

"But they couldn't." pointed out Alistaire, trying to be the voice of reason. "That was one of the terms for W.H.O's continued government funding last year. Unless the case is brought to us first, we let the police do their jobs until they consider it closed or they ask for our help."

"I know that!" came the terse reply. "But Thomas knew what this means to me! He could have at least kept me better informed!" She turned to her brother again. "A year and a half." she all but snarled. "A year and a fucking half, and THAT was all they could come up with!" She pointed a finger at the thin folder on her desk, as if she were an over-zealous clergyman damning it to hell. The look on Alysdane's face would have un-nerved a more courageous soul than her brother. The fact that he was her brother was the only thing that gave him the courage to pick up the folder and give yet another look to its contents.

First was the usual stat sheet with all of the mundane information: name (Alysande Jennie Whyp), age (13), status (missing; presumed dead), parents (Chester and Eve Whyp; deceased) and so on. There was, however, an interesting addition underneath all of this information, highlighted in bright yellow: (mutant power: shape changing, assumed lycanthropy).

There were also two eight-by-ten pictures. The first showed a cheerful Caucasian girl with a thin face and waist-length black hair fading to a light brown at the edges. The second showed a marginally older girl, looking far more subdued in a shapeless blouse and skirt uniform, with her glossy hair cut off an inch above the ear. Obviously taken at the orphanage she'd been sent to after the deaths of her parents. There was also a Polaroid of a large black and tan canine, an Alsatian (more popularly known as a German Shepherd). Scrawled on the white space beneath the photo in fat-looped cursive was the caption "Ain't I cute?" Alistaire knew that his sister never would have handed that photo over to the police if she hadn't wanted the girl found so badly. Though things in England were nowhere near as bad as in the states, it still wasn't a good idea to make having a mutant power public or private knowledge. Private things had a way of leaking out.

Finally, there was half a page of dead-end leads stapled to a forensics report and death certificate for a young girl believed to be Alysande.

Alysdane had the edges of her desk clenched in a white-knuckled grip, trying to get her seething anger at the world in general back under rein. Part of her was deploring her outburst, and the other didn't give a damn.

"Dai might be a bit rough at the edges, but he's not as bad as to give up or let anyone under his command give up on a case like this." pointed out her brother, closing the folder again. "I'm sure they've done their best."

"She's my godchild, Alistaire, and probably the closest I'll ever come to having a daughter of my own. If I'd bothered to check on her more often or fought harder for custody when her parents died, she might not have gone missing. I've got to do better than 'best.'" Before Alysdane could go on, the com-system occupying the upper left-hand corner of her desk beeped.

"Brigadier Stuart?" Alysdane swept the emotion of a second before to a corner of her mind, and answered briskly.

"Yes?"

"There are two people here at the front desk demanding to see you."

"And they are?"

"One's Shadowcat from Excalibur..."

"Cripes!" yelped Alistaire, slapping a hand to his forehead. "I forgot Kitty out in the car!" Leaving her friends lying about like misplaced socks was hardly a way to make a good impression on Miss Summers, really. Alysdane ignored her brother's habitual absent-mindedness.

"And the other?" The answer was delayed for several seconds as both Stuarts were privy to the sound of a scuffle on the other end of the link.

"Gimmie the bleedin' mic!"

"Sir, I... OW!"

Shadowcat's voice broke in. "What are you DOING?"

"Mind your own yard, yank!" The (in Alysdane's opinion) slovenly accent rang out over the line. "'Lo there, Sandie. Remember me, you uptight, regulation-chewing witch?" Alysdane made a noise that might have been a barely swallowed four-letter word, and switched off her end of the com-line.

"Sis?"

"I...do...NOT need this!"

Kurt Wagner swung from one bar of his self-improvised jungle-gym. With a quick push of his muscular legs, he launched himself out into open space, waited for his momentum to lessen, and... BAMF!... vanished. Another explosion of fire and brimstone, and the demonic young man reappeared at the summit of the construction, a wide grin threatening to split his face. It had been less than a month since he had regained his full teleportational abilities and Nightcrawler of Excalibur was reveling in it. On impulse, he began to teleport around the room.

"I..."

BAMF!

"LOVE..."

BAMF!

"THIS!"

BAMF! His last teleport brought him back to his starting point.

"That's kind of obvious, Fuzzy." Rachel stepped into the room, looking amused at Kurt's antics.

BAMF!

Kurt teleported down and executed a sweeping bow before the current host of the Phoenix.

"I know I'm hardly acting my age, but there's just something about suddenly regaining what was lost to you that makes you treasure it all the more." he stated. Rachel nodded once, but the smile that she had work faded away.

"Tell me about it." she muttered. Nightcrawler wished that his tail ended in a third foot so he could kick himself.

"Ach, I'm sorry, Rachel." Ray looked at him in a confusion, gave his thoughts a cursory glance... and actually laughed.

"Don't be. For once, I wasn't thinking about Jean and Scott." Inside, the time-displaced woman knew that Jean Grey and Cyclops weren't her real parents, but that didn't serve to lessen her feeling of attachment to them. "I was thinking about how Kitty must feel the same way as you do." Rachel paused, trying to decide whether or not she should bring up what she was thinking. "I know the Professor's funeral was almost two weeks ago, but I'm still having a hard time grasping that all of them are alive... and an even harder time believing that your... our old team-mates acted as if they didn't know us. When it comes right down to it, I can see why they'd reject me. I asked Kitty about some of my past. That makes it easier to understand, I guess."

"Perhaps, but that does not make it acceptable." sighed Kurt. He too had experienced a sense of isolation from their old team, even when standing in their midst. The X-Men that he had lived with and fought beside for so long had been polite, but extremely cool the entire make-up of Excalibur, with a few exceptions.

Psylocke had embraced Brian and Meggan warmly, needing her brother and his girlfriend as support after all that the X-Men and X-Factor had been through with the Shadow King. And woe to the person that tried to get between Wolverine and his friends. Nightcrawler and Kitty returned Logan's rough hugs, easily seeing through his gruff greetings to his true sentiments. Rachel had stayed away from Wolverine, feeling two memories struggle to assert themselves. The first was of pain, anger, and the oddly cold sensation of adamantium piercing her vital organs. The second was no less intense... but had an entirely different meaning attached to it. Something about Wolverine and her dad. Then both were gone, and Rachel was once again standing a few meters from the rest of her friends. For just about everyone, things continued to go downhill from there.

Storm had certainly been friendly to Kitty, but that unique closeness that the two of them had shared in days past was gone. Whether it was because Kitty felt abandoned when Ororo hadn't told her that the X-Men were alive or because Storm felt so unsure of herself after the battle that had cost Xavier his life, neither one knew. It didn't really matter, for they didn't speak of their problems. Storm didn't want Kitty to feel that the X-Men were trying to drag her away from her new team and Kitty was still resentful of her old team. The end result was that both felt almost uncomfortable around the other. Colossus had little to say to Kitty, and most of what he had said had to deal with the loss of his identity as Peter Nicholas. Kitty, despite her feelings of rejection when she'd been barely acknowledged, had stood by her former love and listened to him bemoan his fate, providing what support she could. But she didn't feel like a close friend or confidant to him. She could tell from the way he spoke, full of bitterness and revealing few details that he would have told the same to anyone who bothered to listen. The faded fantasy of the two of them somehow getting back together slipped a little further from her reach, but stubbornly refused to fold up and die. Pile the irrational and seemingly unprovoked hostility of a new-comer by the name of Jubilation Lee every time Kitty had tried to get Logan alone to talk about how she felt about the X-Men's deaths and their abandonment of her and Kurt, and one can imagine how Kitty was feeling by the time the funeral was over.

Meggan would have liked to talk to Betsy, but Brian was monopolizing his sister's time. To the surprise of both women, Brian was quite short with his lover. Meggan had stayed silent, rather that upset her lover further, all the while desperately wishing that she knew what she had done to make him so moody. Brian's comments had reflected his mood. Meggan had heard his constant muttering of inappropriate comments such as, "I wish they'd throw dirt on the old bugger and get it over with." Psylocke had finally started asking questions directly to Meggan, ignoring her brother. While Meggan appreciated the attention, Brian's expression of bottled-up anger had actually scared her a little.

After having her half-hearted attempts at getting to know the X-Men again were rebuffed, Rachel had retreated from everyone. Kurt and Kitty, not in very good moods themselves, had tried once or twice to coax her into a conversation with one of the newer members of the X-men (someone by the name of Gambit) before the service, but Rachel had stayed firm in her loneliness.

"I don't know these people." she'd said in a voice a little above a whisper. "My memories don't hold up... and even if they did, I get the feeling I wouldn't be too welcome. I can tell from their thoughts, guys. They don't want me around and a few are even a little frightened of me. It doesn't matter, really. I don't care."

Neither Nightcrawler nor Shadowcat believed that last statement. During the service, her eyes had been trained on Jean Grey and Cyclops they delivered the Professor's eulogy. Her face had worn an expression of deep longing and tears had brimmed in her eyes for the second time that day. But she had not approached them, even after Xavier's body had been committed the rocky soil of Muir Island. Rachel, while it tore her to shreds within, was striving to separate herself from Scott and Jean. She wanted to be their daughter, but also knew that they didn't want that. Xavier's death was yet another reminder that this was not her time and these were not her parents. So why couldn't she let go?

Needless to say, after such an awkward reunion, Excalibur had been almost relieved to leave Muir behind them.

Kurt ran one hand back though his hair. "It is hard to believe that our friends could change so." He tried to lighten the suddenly heavy mood. "Still, coming back from the dead is certain to cause a few personality quirks. Look at Elvis."

Rachel grimaced. "I better bring up my reason for coming down here before your jokes have me bringing up my lunch." She became more serious. "Have you noticed that something has been bothering Amanda?" Kurt's smile faded.

"Ja." he mumbled. "Ever since the Marauder attack, it seems that she'd become the second living ghost in this lighthouse." While Nightcrawler exaggerated somewhat, he wasn't far off the mark. The team had seen very little of Amanda Sefton in the past couple of weeks. Sharon and Tom were constantly coming and going, Keesha, James, and Icarus had teamed up with Lockheed and Widget in the cause of getting under everyone's feet, and Orlin was always in the background, willing to lend a hand with anything, but Amanda hardly ever seemed to be around.

"Kitty told me that you two were raised together." said Rachel. "And that you used to be together. I thought you might be able to hel... to talk to her."

"I have already tried. She wouldn't even look at me." He caught Rachel's aborted phrase. "'To help her?' Rachel, is there something going on that I don't know about?"

"Yes... but Amanda asked me not to tell anyone about it." Kurt frowned at that. In his eyes, that had always been the highest barrier between Amanda and himself. If something bothered Nightcrawler, he more often than not tried to get it out in the open. Amanda tended to turn her problems inward, and often didn't let anybody else know until whatever had been bothering her had started to make waves.

"Then she obviously does not want or need my help." he said shortly.

"You really believe that?" asked Rachel, already knowing the answer. Being a telepath usually gave you a boost of confidence in a conversation.

"Nien, I do not." he sighed. "But I really don't see what good I can do if she won't let me." Rachel leaned against the door frame as Nightcrawler teleported back to his work-out.

"Just keep an eye open, will ya, Fuzzy? She wants to talk, but she just won't let herself."

"Not to imply that you are normally unconcerned with the welfare of others, Rachel, but why the interest in Amanda's well-being? You hardly know her."

"I don't know Amanda," agreed Ray, "but I do know what she's going through."

"I'll be there if she's willing to accept my help." Kurt promised, though he couldn't imagine what Rachel and Amanda would have in common. Rachel gave him a tight smile, and exited the room. Nightcrawler went back to his exercise, not enjoying it quite as much as he had before his conversation with Rachel.

In the basement, in the passenger car that was serving as her bedroom, Amanda Sefton looked into a shallow dish of water. Aside from a half-ring of incense candles burning around the dish, there was no light in the room. Amanda was staring at the liquid in the same manner as someone trying to will a telephone to ring. Finally, the light reflecting off the surface shimmered and coalesced into a face. Amanda smiled tiredly.

"Hello, mother. You kept me waiting."

"You need to learn a little patience anyway." smiled Margali Szardos of the Winding Way. "Children have so little of it these days. Too bad. It's a useful virtue." The reflection of eyes fixed on Amanda's pale, strained face and neglected hair. "You look hideous." the older woman said bluntly. "What's wrong? Did Strange catch up to you? Has he been bothering you?"

"It would serve us right if he did." Amanda smiled in spite of herself. "That was a horrible con we pulled on him.* Frankly, I'm surprised it worked." (*see Dr. Strange #57-58)

"I need him to think that I'm not threat to his position. But I'm not using my energy to talk about Stephen Strange. What's wrong girl? Spit it out." demanded Margali's image. Amanda could almost see the older woman's arms folded across her chest in an impatient stance.

"I'm thinking about coming back home, Mom." Amanda murmured. Margali's face softened.

"It's always nice to have you visit. I don't see nearly enough of my high-traveling daughter. How long would you be staying?"

"Permanently." The grim tone of her voice startled both women. Amanda sounded more as if she were announcing a death sentence than coming to see her mother. "Maybe seriously immerse myself in the magic arts for a change." Margali realized that there was much more on her daughter's mind than a trip home.

"Jimaine, I want you to think about this." she cautioned her daughter. "It's no easy thing to get out of magic once you go back to it. Think about it. Think about it a good long while. Then get back to me."

"Mother..."

This time Margali's voice was gentle but firm. "There's a difference between running to something and running away from something, my dear heart. Make sure you know which one you're dealing with." She paused. "I'll contact you again this time tomorrow. Let me know then or reach me yourself."

Amanda didn't argue with that tone. She never had. "Yes, mother."

The image smiled sadly. "Good-bye, Jimaine."

"Good-night, Mom." The water rippled, though nothing had touched it. When Amanda leaned over to blow out the candles, it reflected nothing but the walls of the room.

"Now, you rude little beast, are you going to let me play or not?" asked Meggan in a very put-upon tone. The Morlock children had proposed a game of handball in the top section of the lighthouse and had formed themselves into two teams (Keesha and Icarus vs. James and Lockheed). When Meggan had flown up and asked to join in, James had tried to brush her off with a "No way!" That was when Meggan had tripled her muscle mass and sat on his chest. The emotions of everyone around her were on edge from the long confinement inside, and Meggan's empathic nature couldn't help but be affected by it. In her, it manifested as a uncharacteristic flash of temper.

"Well?" she insisted.

"Did *I* say you couldn't play? Dear lord, the rain must have driven me out of my mind. That's it, I've gone stir-crazy. Sure you can play. You can be on my team even."

"Hey! You can't have Lockheed AND Meggan!" protested Icarus.

"Yeah." agreed Keesha. "And we aren't gonna use Widget."

"Why not?" asked Meggan. "It would even out the teams."

"A: He doesn't have a body, second: he doesn't know how to play, and 3: he keeps eating the damn ball!"

"OK, OK." sighed James. "Sorry, Lockheed. You're on the sidelines."

"Uh-uh!" growled the dragon, crossing his arms over his sternum.

"Well, I'm not sitting out either." insisted James. "It's you 'r me." Lockheed growled softly let a tiny jet of flame hover an bare inch from James' nose. "All right! Fine! I'll just go downstairs and talk to Bertha, then." Grumbling to himself, James stalked out of the room.

"Bertha?" asked Icarus as the four remaining players began to rearrange the furniture and assorted breakables. Their version of handball was just like racquetball with no racquets, so space was an absolute.

"That's what Sharon's been calling that big dragon downstairs." clarified Meggan. "I think it's cute."

"'Bertha?' It's a girl dragon? Great. This entire place is full of girls." Keesha rolled her eyes. Icarus was lingering in that stage where members of the opposite gender were the enemy.

"Are we going to play ball or what?" Without waiting for an answer, Keesha tossed the ball up in the air and smacked it with the back of her hand as it came down. Everyone ducked and let the ball ricochet off the walls a few more times until it slowed enough to slap again without bruising one's hand. Lockheed whapped the rubber ball with his tail, nearly beaning Icarus with it and sending it zinging around the room again.

"Keesha," began Meggan as the ball zipped by under her nose, "do you mind if I ask you something?" The red-skinned Morlock dove for the ball and missed.

"Damn! You guys have the first score. Huh? Oh... no, I don't mind."

"What's your power? Icarus makes things float, Jimmy changes states of matter, and Mr. Orlin heals people. What about you?" Keesha shrugged and handed the ball to Meggan.

"Your turn to serve. I don't know what you'd call it, but I let people feel how I've felt. Not just like poor old Annalee, she could just send her spur of the moment feelings, but it's close." Keesha saw the perplexed look on Meggan's face. "It's like, I shove my feelings into their heads, but it doesn't have to be what I'm feeling right then. If someone gives me any shit, I just let them know when I've been the most scared or depressed or whatever. They don't know why, but they just feel that way. It usually distracts them long enough for me to get a couple of good licks in."

Meggan bounced the ball off of the far wall. "That's what you did during the fight?"

"Yeah." Keesha brushed her fingers across one of the white scars trailing down her neck. "I just gave him what they made me feel when they attacked the tunnels. Looks like he couldn't handle it so well." She jerked her attention over to her brother as he got ready to put the ball back into play. "Ic, don't..."

C R A S H ! !

The smash and tinkle of falling glass cut off the rest of the elder Scott's warning. The four ball players stared out of the shattered window as rain began to seep into the carpet.

"Does this count as the game being called on account of bad weather?" asked Meggan, biting her lip nervously.

"I think so. Someone find Jimmy before the room floods."

"What the hell is this?" demanded Brigadier Stuart of the dark-haired 18 year-old sitting with his feet dripping muddy water onto her desk and his cigarette fouling up the air of her office.

"You've got the bleedin' paperwork, Sandie. You tell me." retorted Pete Wisdom, taking another near-reverent breath of cigarette smoke with his youthened lungs. Alysdane shoved his feet from her desk, but didn't waste her time going after his Marlboro. He'd just wait until the instant the butt stopped smoldering and light up another one.

Alysdane loathed Wisdom personally, mainly because he was one of the very few people that she had met capable of goading her into losing her temper, even under the best of circumstances. With her already frayed nerves, just seeing Wisdom's face was enough to tempt her into becoming extremely unprofessional.

Wisdom, however, was hardly enjoying the circumstances that he presently found himself in, and showing it by being a total sod to anyone who invaded his personal space. Besides that, he'd always figured that Alysdane was a shirt stuffed with regulations and was a general pain in the ass. In his book, both were excellent reasons to give the Brigadier a good nettling.

While Pete and Alysdane snarled at each other, Kitty moved to the far side of the room where Alistaire was already standing. Alysdane's brother had the knack for fading totally out of people's attention if he didn't make himself known. Apparently, he didn't feel like making himself known to the man in front of them. He had a look on his face that plainly stated that this had gone on before.

"What's with those two?" she asked, brushing a tangled lock of soggy hair out of her face. She was soaked through, thanks to that Wisdom character. During the scuffle out front, she'd gone solid to try and drag him back over the the desk and now she looked a fright because of it. The slight touch of mascara, the first make-up that she'd decided to wear around Alistaire, had dripped down her cheeks in dark blue smears. To make matters worse, her nose was starting to run. For the second time since she had met Alistaire, she wanted him to pretend that he couldn't see her. Naturally, he was focused entirely on her face as he passed her a handful of tissues.

"Alysdane isn't too happy about the current state of events." he pointed out needlessly.

'Duh!' thought Kitty, blotting her face as best she could.

"You see," he continued, speaking to Kitty as if her IQ had suddenly fallen 50 points, "my sis is working on a very important missing person's case and she's not too happy about having to take Wisdom into W.H.O to get a hand with it."

'Well THAT really helps.' thought Kitty, rolling her eyes. Alistaire caught that and mistook it for exasperation at Alysdane's and Wisdom's actions.

"It is a bit silly isn't it?" he said with a small grin, turning back to his sister's desk. Kitty resisted the urge to roll her eyes again at his denseness. It seemed that the Brigadier's mood hadn't improved. Wisdom was waving a manila folder, nearly identical to the one on Alysdane's desk, under the Brigadier's nose.

"I know you want this, Sandie." he crooned, a sadistic grin formed around his cig. "All you have to do is take the offer from the brass and sign me up for field work in your little ant colony here."

"You're a bastard, Wisdom." snapped Alysdane. "This is a young girl's life you're toying with!"

"I didn't come up with the offer." Pete shrugged. "I'd rather have kept me old job. But given the choice between this and a desk job 'til I hit 25, you can guess what I'll be favored towards."

Kitty blinked. How could this kid be getting ready to work for W.H.O? He didn't even look as if he were old enough to be out of high-school.

Alysdane stared out of the window and counted to ten in her head. Again. And again. And again. She was still within seconds of knocking Wisdom's blockhead from his neck. Pete was still sucking away on his fag, being careful not to show that he found the conditions of the deal as distasteful as the Brigadier did. He'd be strung up by his balls before he'd admit (out loud anyway) to having the same view as Stuart on anything.

Alysdane silently put out one hand. Wisdom removed a document from his back pocket and placed it on top of the folder before passing it over. The Brigadier signed it and passed the sheet back to him. Pete scanned it quickly... and stopped as he reached her signature. It read 'Alysdane Stuart' instead of 'Alysande.'

"What kind of bullshit is this? You change your name or something, Sandie? Or have you finally gone batty?"

"In words you can understand, Wisdom: Sod off!" Alysdane shouted. "Out of my office!" Wisdom stood and turned to go, but not without getting his parting shot.

"Better watch your language, Sandie. Looks like I'm rubbin' of on you. Next thing I know, you'll be swiping me cigarettes. I'll share with ya for now..." He blew a final cloud of smoke into the atmosphere of the room, and stalked out. Kitty coughed softly and waved her hand in front of her face.

"What a jerk!" she sputtered.

"I can think of other words." muttered Alysdane. "You two had best putter about in Alistaire's lab for now." She scowled down at the new file. "I'm going to have some paperwork to sort through."

Alistaire gave his sister a worried glance, but ushered Kitty and himself out of the office. The Brigadier opened the folder, shoved aside the usual false goodwill of whatever high muckety-muck had had the gall to drop Wisdom onto her lap, and began to pour through the new information. What she found made her heart threaten to pound right out of her chest. This was what she had been waiting for!

By the time Alistaire dropped Kitty off at the shore across from lighthouse, it was almost nine at night. Despite the steadily increasing rain, the shore was still a romantic setting. Dr. Stuart noticed as well. Kitty had eyes only for Alistaire. Alistaire had his peepers glued to the distant lighthouse.

"Kitty...?" he asked in a slightly hesitant voice.

"Yes?" she asked, half-hopeful, half-despairing that he'd found some fault in her to point out.

"Do you think Rachel's still awake? Perhaps she'd like to talk a stroll along the beach."

'This ugly strip of barren rock is hardly a beach!' Kitty thought, scowling at him. He never noticed. "No, she's probably out cold." Kitty fibbed, knowing that Ray probably hadn't thought of bed yet. "But I'll walk with you if you like."

"Uh... no, that's quite all right." he stumbled, jolted out of his romantic reverie. "I really should be dashing along home now. Cheerio, Kitty." He didn't even turn to see her half-hearted wave. Now in a truly foul mood, Kitty took a deep breath and air-stomped across the stretch of water to the lighthouse. Her air ran out about ten feet before she could get to the other side. Shadowcat had no choice but to become solid, take a breath, and land in the water. Somehow, it didn't serve to darken her mood, because she had expected something else to go wrong on this rotten day. Kitty simply waded to shore, wondering why she had ever decided to leave the U.S. of A.

Kitty phased, but before she could walk through the wall and into the lighthouse, rain started to slash down again. Kitty was phased and didn't get wet in the least, but she just had to complain about something.

"Lousy English weather..." she grumbled, walking inside. She didn't see the figure sitting just around the curve of the outer wall. Kitty phased right up to her room where Lockheed and Rachel spent the better part of the evening watching her beat her pillow within an inch of it's life.

Orlin sat in the top section of the lighthouse, looking down at the woman huddled in the rain. The old man had long since forgotten if he had ever had a name besides Orlin and his title as 'Healer', but he had lived in the Morlock tunnels to see every emotional state possible on a person's face. He knew misery and guilt when they presented themselves.

He tapped the slightly warped glass (Jimmy had been able to repair the window, but not perfectly) with one finger, wincing slightly as he did. The rainy weather had aggravated his arthritis, and while his powers kept the pain to a minimum, it was an unwelcome reminder of his advanced years. He put his own discomfort out of his mind for the moment and gave another glance down at the miserable figure huddled in the rain. A pity really. That poor child was going to make herself ill and for no good reason either, he'd wager. No matter what had happened, harming herself would not right it. The longer he pondered it, the more ridiculous it seemed that no one was going to talk to that young woman. Well, he'd put that to rights.

'I may be old.' he decided, as he got to his feet, ignoring his creaking joints, 'But I'm not blind yet. I know exactly who to get to drag that girl in by her ear if that's what's needed.'

"Kurt Wagner, you are a glutton for punishment." Nightcrawler muttered to himself as he stepped out of the lighthouse's front door. "As if over-doing the blasted excercises wasn't enough, now you're running about in the rain." The rain had slacked off, but was still heavy enough to soak him through to the skin after only a few seconds. The Morlock healer had been insistent that he go out, but for what? He'd refused to say, but something in his manner had convinced Kurt that it was important enough to see about. Probably rain leaking through the lighthouse foundation.

'Where's the team leader when you need him?' Nightcrawler wondered, examining the beach. The answer was at the residence of the lovely Courtney Ross, of course. Half of the time, Kurt wondered why they didn't just set up head-quarters over there, saving Brian the time of flying back and forth and sparing Meggan the pain of guessing Brian's feelings for Courtney. He rounded the wall and nearly ran into Amanda. She glanced up from her seat, the rock that had housed the Soulsword until a few weeks past, but didn't say anything.

Even with her hair slicked down and bedraggled by the rain, she was beautiful in Kurt's eyes. 'Such a fool...' he thought to himself, recalling that their last words to each other had been motivated by anger, hurt, and selfishness. 'If I'd just held my wretched tongue, we might love each other still.' he thought sadly. He was about to apologize and go back inside, when he realized that he still did love Amanda. He'd never stopped. He'd convinced himself that he had while trying to get over her, believing that she'd never want to hear from him again. Turning away from her without even a civil greeting would be the perfect way to continue with that self-deception. It didn't seem worth keeping up at the moment.

"Gueten abend, Amanda." he said, almost too softly to be heard above the rain. Now he'd see it, that smile that was just a little too wide to be genuine, a polite greeting, and a seemingly hesitant request to be alone. Loosely translated: "I find you repulsive, but I'm too polite to say it outright." He'd seen it before in the circus when he'd tried to approach any of the new-comers.

Kurt didn't see it now. Amanda's mouth formed words, but they were so soft that didn't hear them. The only thing to do was to sit next to her in order to hear what she was saying.

'Oh, please don't do this.' Amanda thought frantically as Nightcrawler took a seat beside her. 'Don't play with me like this.' Why wouldn't he just leave? Did she really want him to? Did it matter? No. He had someone else now. Even in her fondest fantasies, she hadn't seriously expected him to hold a torch for her for over a year had she? Of course she had! She turned to Kurt. Outside of bathing, he hated getting wet. He always had. Amanda guessed it was because it took fur so long to dry out, but it seemed to go deeper than that. Yet he was still out here in the rain. At the very least, she owed him a response.

"What do you want?" she repeated, looking down at her hands. It was cold and her fingers had gone numb, but she didn't care.

"I want to make sure that you are well." he responded.

"Kind of late, aren't you?" Amanda snapped, not bothering to hide her resentment or the sudden tears in her eyes. "If you were so worried about me, why didn't you return my calls? I didn't know if you were ignoring me or if some super-villain had taken out you and your entire team or what! When I heard that the rest of the X-Men were dead, I thought that you were with them! Dammit, Kurt, if you cared at all you would have at least let me know if we were through or not!"

"I didn't think you'd want anything to do with me after... what I said." he said quietly. "And you would have been justified in it. It just didn't seem right to try and win you back after I deliberately tried to drive you away."

"That was partially my fault too. I could have turned back to you at any point that morning, but I left instead. Before we got romantically involved, we were friends, Kurt. You, me, and Stephan loved each other like siblings. I think what hurt most was thinking that love didn't matter enough to you for you to be bothered with even giving me the choice to see you again. Romance comes and goes, but we were family! And you just tossed it aside like nothing!"

Nightcrawler flinched. Those words hit close to home. He didn't try to defend his actions, for as he looked at it from Amanda's point of view, he could see that he'd been as thoughtless to her as he felt the X-Men had been to Kitty, Rachel, and himself. He spoke the only words that came to mind.

"I'm sorry." Kurt said, meeting her eyes. "If I could do anything to undo the hurt I've caused you, I would."

Having taken the edge off of a long-burning resentment, Amanda couldn't hold on to her anger. It just didn't seem important enough. The rage had built her up for a minute, but having left, she slumped again. "It doesn't matter." she sighed, looking at the waves hissing against the shore.

Nightcrawler saw the brief flare go out of her eyes and the same despairing hunch come back into her shoulders.

"Yes, it does matter!" he insisted. "Otherwise, you'd have told someone about it by now. Contrary to what you might have thought, I do still care about you. I wish that you'd tell me what's bothering you!"

Amanda hesitated, uncertain. 'I'm leaving in the morning.' she thought. 'What harm can it do to talk about it?'

"What harm..." she muttered aloud, mentally collecting what information she'd gotten from Rachel before raising her voice to an audible level. "It's pretty simple, really. You've probably heard the same story a hundred times, given your line of work.The Marauders had kind of a double mission. The most important was to get a sample of Ray's DNA. Second, finish off what Morlocks were left, meaning Orlin and the kids. Somehow they knew that we'd escaped to my old apartment in New York. They went there before they attacked the lighthouse. Betsy and Wendy were there... and the bastards killed them." Amanda's voice wavered as she fought to keep it from cracking. "If I'd teleported us anywhere else besides there, they might still be alive. I didn't have any right to be there... I'd moved to Muir, but I ran there out of force of habit..." Tears had started to mix with the rainwater running down her face. Nightcrawler understood now what Rachel had said about knowing what Amanda was going through. Survivor's guilt. Kurt wanting desperately to comfort Amanda, but unsure of how she'd react.

"I'm about to hug you." he informed her, giving her fair warning. When she neither rejected nor encouraged his offer, he wrapped his arms around her in a gentle embrace. His closeness and Amanda's own need for comfort crumbled some of the barriers that she'd put up. She hid her face against his shoulder and cried. While Amanda's emotional storm passed, the weather around them got worse. Finally, Kurt's caution over-rode his concern about Amanda's mental state.

"Let's go back inside." he suggested, getting to his feet. "We can talk once you get into some dry clothes and have a chance to thaw out." Amanda nodded once, rubbed her eyes, and followed Kurt back into the lighthouse. She was surprised that she felt marginally better for having bawled like a kid. As they walked into the lower level, Orlin pretended to be thoroughly involved in a book instead of the two soaked figures making their way towards the basement steps. It would have been more convincing if the book had been right-side up.

"I'm sorry I didn't come back sooner." Amanda admitted as Kurt escorted her down the stairs.

"Why is that?" asked Kurt pleasantly as they tiptoed past a snoozing Bertha. Amanda gave him a surprised look.

"We might have had a chance to start over." she blurted out, thrown off kilter enough for her mind to break away from her own guilt. Kurt tilted his head to one side, acting calm though he was fevered with hope inside.

"What makes you think that we can't?" he asked.

"B-but... I mean, you and Meggan. Aren't you...?" 'Collect yourself!' Amanda thought out the statement before she finished it. "I thought you and Meggan were together. You seem... very fond of each other."

Kurt shook his head. "We are good friends, but Meggan and Brian are in love. I wouldn't interfere in that." Kurt must have had a very virulent strain of hope, for the same type found it's way into Amanda's blood. She tried to clear it from her mind. It wasn't the time to jump into the relationship again, not when she was so in need of someone to hold onto. She wanted to be sure that was going back to Kurt for who he was now, not for how she remembered him.

"I'd best get out of these wet things." she muttered. "I'll meet you in your room once I'm decent. I really do need to talk to someone, Kurt."

"Of course." he said, his entire manner demure. He realized how she felt, and was perfectly willing to wait until she was sure. Amanda went into her compartment, and Kurt headed back up the stairs. Teleporting to his room would have been easier, but he had something her wanted to say to the Healer.

Orlin peered over the top of his book at the dripping, blue-furred figure in front of him.

"Something I can help you with?" he asked.

"Remind me to come to you if I ever need advice." grinned Nightcrawler before teleporting away, leaving the smell of brimstone and wet fur behind.

"So now I'm a fortune cookie." mumbled the old man, going back to his book with a smirk on his face. He turned it over and looked at the cover. He blanched slightly, hoping that no one had noticed that he'd been pretending to read a collection of erotic short-stories. Suddenly, Orlin felt the very definite need to retire for the night.

Alistaire started to go straight home after dropping Shadowcat off at the lighthouse, but he was worried about Alysdane. He made a quick detour to back to W.H.O's grounds and made his way to her office.

"Sis?" he asked hesitantly, rapping on the door to her office. Alysdane was standing at the window, with the blinds pulled all the way up, staring blankly at the clouded-over sky. "Ali? You feeling all right?"

"I promised myself that I never would, Alistaire. But I've become just the sort of military favor-monger that I've always despised. I thought that there'd never be anything that would convince me try and bend the rules of my rank, even a bit. But I have. For the past 12 hours, I've been calling in favors, dealing from the bottom of the deck, threatening black-mail, and getting ready to tear down the roof on anyone who wouldn't cooperate with me. I doubt my reputation is ever going to fully recover from this. If I don't get booted down, I'll be lucky." She turned to her brother. A tear was tracing it's way down her cheek, but there was a note of triumph in her voice. "But it's all worth it, Alistaire. Look!" She shoved a handful of near illegible memos at her twin. "I know where Alysande is!"

"Where?" asked Alistaire, feeling pride and sorrow for his sister. He knew how important her career was to her, and how much it must have taken for her to go against what she believed in on the bare chance of finding Alysande. The Brigadier's voice became grim.

"The London chapter of the Hellfire Club."

Next Issue: How the hell did Wisdom get to be a teen-ager again? Don't ask, just wait for #44.