Disclaimer: Well, I tried getting Pete to do this one, but he told me just where I could shove it. Anyway, Marvel's characters belong to them and my characters belong to me. I'm making no money. Easy 'nuff, yes? Send all comments to MKEW72C@prodigy.com.

Thanks to the wonderful and patient people in the "Kitty Fan-Fic Loop" (except for Luba, who's just wonderful :P). This series would be much worse off than it is without all of your help. Nuttin' but love for ya!

Author's notes: Yes, I'm blatantly stealing plot-concepts from X-Men Unlimited #4 and Excalibur #51. Allow me to explain myself. XMU #4, which explained Nightcrawler's connection to Mystique, was a good idea at the core. But during the course of the story, things got downright loopy, even for an X-Book. The story simply did not hold water, especially towards the end. So I'm trying to do it right, or at least decently, here.

As for Excalibur #51, well... I have no excuse. I simply wanted an excuse to bring Excalibur's dino-alternates on stage.

One more thing, then I PROMISE we can actually get to the story. Most of what I write in reference to Nightcrawler's past isn't going to stand up in Marvel continuity (of course, most of what Marvel writes in reference to anything doesn't stand up in continuity!). But this is my little corner of an alter-verse and so it goes.

Cover: It's night on a London street with a sickly-looking sliver of moon hanging overhead. In the light of a street lamp, Nightcrawler, dressed in formal clothing, is crouched over the limp body of Amanda Sefton. He's obviously worried. A female figure stands behind them, mostly hidden in shadow. The only readily discernible features on the observer are pale yellow eyes and a thick mane of red hair.

Shadowcat: Bye.

"I don't know if I should laugh or run home and crawl under my bed." Amanda Sefton looked out of the Blackbird's starboard portal at the melee below.

"Laugh." advised Phoenix. "The battle du jour is a collision of The Land of the Lost and downtown Brighton from what thoughts I can pick up."

Rachel Summers, telepath, telekinetic, and host to the cosmic power known as the Phoenix, was trying her best to suppress her own laughter. True the situation down below was hardly funny as viewed through the eyes of the people trying to escape the tromping feet of assorted dinosaurs, but it was unbelievable to the point of being absurd.

"Look at it this way," spoke up Shadowcat from the seat behind her, "going up against an Allosaurus is better than your first mission being against the Hellfire Club." Amanda's return grin was brief, quirky, and plainly showed her lack of reassurance.

"See you in a moment, mein kameradin." From the pilot's seat, Nightcrawler opened the drop-doors of the aircraft. "I'll join you as soon as I find someplace to set this thing down. Good luck." He managed to catch Amanda's eye before she used a teleport spell to be on her way. Be careful, he mouthed. She didn't respond, unsure if she should be annoyed or touched that he was worried about her abilities. A second later she vanished.

The Phoenix force, characterized by a flare of psychic flame in the shape of the mythical bird from which it borrowed its name (or perhaps vice versa), was willed into activity a moment later by Rachel. She used it to carry both herself and Shadowcat to the ground. Shadowcat would have preferred to use her own power to phase the air molecules under her feet to the same state as the rest of her body and simply walk to the ground, but she had to admit that Rachel got them down faster. Well, she had to admit it to herself anyway.

Meggan flew down next. She was a stunningly beautiful woman, but why not? Her empathic shape-shifting, a power of origin and full potential yet unknown, allowed her to look however she chose... or however those closest to her might wish her to look. So what if her chosen look (more acurately, the look her beloved Brian had chosen for her) bordered on bimbo?

Last (and questionably least) came Captain Britain, nursing a hang-over and a grudge against the blue-furred Nightcrawler for an imagined slight .

"Where does he get off giving orders around here?" the muscular, blond, beef-cake fumed softly. "Ride rough-shod over me, will he? Try to tempt Meggan away from me, will he? 'Meggan'", he mocked, "'Meggan, liebchen, how are you this morning? Here, let me help you with that. It looks heavy'. I saw where his eyes were. As if having the witch in his bed wasn't enough. Well, just you wait, you mangy lothario..."

Brian! Rachel's telepathic "voice" echoed around inside of the team leader's head, aggravating his barely suppressed hangov... headache. Get your rear in gear already!

Coming! Give a body half a chance, all right? Rachel didn't respond except to shut off the link. That bloody psi-bitch was in on it too. And the little genius -geek and the Morlock girl. They were all against him, even as they lived off of his wealth. Glory-seeking parasites, all of them.

Needing a vent for his seething rage Brian flew down into the confrontation.

Shadowcat phased out of Rachel's grip and landed gracefully onto the nearly deserted street below, behind the police barrier. "Hi, Inspector Thomas." Rachel landed a moment later, on the other side of the barrier.

Dai Thomas grunted a return greeting. "Right. What're you hero-types planning to do about this?"

"Call me nuts but I don't think these dinos are out to cause any trouble."

Rachel eyed the towering beasts skeptically. "OK, Nuts. Explain." One of the smaller dinosaurs, a brownish-red creature about ten feet tall, butted it's head into the display-window of a butcher's shop and began to glut itself. Its twin scampered over and shoved its way in for a share. Shadowcat didn't recognize the species of either one.

"Make it fast." the inspector prompted.

"Well, they're causing some minor property damage now, but how many casualties have you had so far?" A flash of light blinked Amanda Sefton into Kitty's field of vision a second later. Nightcrawler 'bamfed' into view an instant after that. Brian and Meggan were still hovering above. "Ray?"

Hold up, everyone. Kitty's onto something.

"No casualties. An' the only injuries so far 'ave been people trippin' over their own feet an' gettin' stepped on by the rest o' the crowd." Thomas admitted. "So what're you tryin' to say?"

"I don't know yet. But doesn't it seem weird that the meat-eaters wouldn't go after a potential food-source? Especially one that was already showing prey behavior?"

"Prey behavior?" asked Rachel, trying to follow Kitty's train of thought.

"Runnin' around, 'ollerin', an' carrin' on an' such." Thomas grinned at Rachel around his cigarette. "Dinnit you take life science?"

"No, but I did learn about the health risks of second-hand smoke." Rachel telekinetically crushed the Winston into a powder.

Kitty tried to steer the conversation back on track. "And for that matter, why are two plant-eaters hanging around with three carnivores? They can't be dinosaurs as we know them... or think we do. So maybe we can communicate with them."

"I 'ate to break it to you, Shadowgirl, but this isn't 'Godzilla'. These things aren't going respond to sign-language or such rot."

"What about a telepath?"

"Go for it, Ray." What Kitty didn't notice was the sudden flash of light behind a building as a dimensional portal opened, spilling some not-quite-familiar characters onto the scene.

'Oh, yeah. I've lost it.' Despite her sudden doubts as to her sanity, Amanda still tried to form a catch-web of magical energy around one of the five dinosaurs, the only quadruped of the bunch. Kitty wanted the team to try and restrain the dinosaurs without resorting to violence while Rachel attempted to scan their minds.

Her thoughts were cut short as her spell was repelled by a magic force that matched her own exactly. She moved around the flank of the Triceratops, trying to get a better angle without getting stomped into paste, and tried again... with the exact same result.

The beast lumbered on and Amanda was hard-pressed to leap aside to avoid its tail without getting smacked by it or trampled by anything else. She nearly collided with another person doing the exact same thing . Then she got a glimpse of who it was. As far as clothing went, they were the same: low-heeled boots, silvery tunic, and black stretch pants. Same build: thin with a nicely rounded body. Simply a different species.

The dinosaurian version of Amanda Sefton met her double's eyes and saw her own sentiments reflected right back at her. 'I have DEFINITELY lost it!'

Hello in there. Rachel slipped easily into the mind of the Allosaur. If there're any coherent thoughts floating around, just give me a holler. Rachel poked around experimentally in different sectors. Lessee what we have here. Eat. Sleep. Eat. Eat. Eat. Procreate. Eat.

How encouraging. Let's see what the memory center has to say... WHOA NELLY!

This creature's capacity for memory was greater and far more complex than anything without sentient thought should have been. A torrent of sights and sounds washed around the unprepared telepath.

'Martha Cunningham? She's gorgeous.'

(a perfect wedding)

'I do.'

'Congratulations, Mr. Griswald. It's a girl.'

'WILBUUUUURRR! Take out the trash and I mean now!'

'Yes, Martha.

(little Susie's first step)

(Calvin's hatching)

'Blech! WAAAAH!'

(cleaning baby spit-up)

...and on and on and on...

"Rachel? Earth to Rachel!"

Rachel staggered slightly as she came out of the link. "Huh? What?" Her head was ringing. "Ow..."

Kitty stopped shaking her. "Find anything?"

"Yeah..."

"Think you could let the rest of us in on it before those guys step on one of our team-mates?"

"They're not from Earth... at least not this one."

Kitty's face skewed up. "Not more Cross-Time craziness!"

"Something like that. They're from an alternate time-line where dinosaurs evolved into the dominant species on Earth. These guys are Martha and Wilbur Griswald and their kids, Susie and Calvin. The other one is some tour-guide they met on their European vacation. They got caught in one of those dimensional warps people seem to run into around here and got sucked into our dimension."

"Yer tryin' to tell us that these bloody things 'ave some sort of society?"

"One almost identical to ours. But they shouldn't be like this. They've ..." Rachel groped for the word.

"Devolved?" Kitty prompted.

"Devolved," Rachel agreed. "But your guess as to why is as good as mine ."

"Can you tell 'em to lay off terrorizin' the populace?" Dai interjected ..

"That's the problem. Being able to read their thoughts is one thing. But it's a one-way communication. Getting any kind of suggestion to stick in their minds just won't work."

"Great. Dinosaurs with read-only thoughts." Kitty grumbled. She winced as something in the general direction of the battle made an awful crashing racket.

"An' yer attempts to hold 'em down peaceful-like 'avn't worked very well." Unlike the other two, he'd noticed that the source of all the commotion had been Captain Britain's nigh invulnerable form, propelled by a well-placed kick, slamming into the side of a building and creating a sizable hole about two stories up.

Rachel had to agree. "Let me know if you come up with anything. I'm going to go run damage control." Phoenix had flown to the aid of her comrades in another instant.

"Look, I know yer not fond of the idea," Dai sighed, lighting up another cigarette. "But we're gonna 'ave to do somethin' besides stand here and wait for those lizards to fill up and move on. Get those zoo blokes in with tranqs or something like that."

"But we don't even know how their body chemistry works!" Shadowcat protested. "For all we know, tranquilizers could send them into a violent reaction."

"Well, you come up with a solution then, 'cuz the only other thing I can see bringin' these great lumps down is firepower..." He glanced over at Kitty's aghast expression. "An' I can see you're about as keen on that as I am."

"Might I be of assistance?" A tall shadow loomed over the both of them.

"Brian, why aren't you...?" Kitty turned around and gaped. "You're not Brian."

The tall lizardesque man in Captain Britain's costume crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm Britanicus Rex, and these..." He gestured towards the fight. "are my colleagues."

Kitty had been deeply absorbed in trying to figure out a solution to their problem and really hadn't been paying the battle much attention. Her first impression of the fight gave her the idea that her contacts had malfunctioned. Kitty had to restrain the urge to rub her eyes as she beheld dinosauran doppelgangers of Excalibur (excepting Phoenix, of course), Spiderman, and Mr. Fantastic of the Fantastic Four all trying to restrain the larger dinos, and doing a pretty smooth job of it, too. She wondered if Rachel had used her telepathy to mentally explain the appearance of the extra teams.

"Looks like we'll be home in time for lunch." Kitty muttered, leaving the relative safety of the police barrier to give her team a hand. "You two try to explain this to each other," she called back over her shoulder, deciding that being out in this mess was less hazardous than trying to puzzle it out from the sidelines.

For the better part of an hour, Daniel Raffenhalm had been crouched in the shadow of his apartment building, cradling a powerful hunting rifle and waiting for his chance. He fancied himself a grand hunter (though anyone who had ever hunted with him would be the first to tell you that he was a fair shot at best) and what he saw here was a chance to bag a trophy that would be the envy of the world. Those mutant-types seemed to have the situation pretty well under control at the moment. Which meant that he had a perfect shot at one of the little reddish-brown blighters.

Yes, one of those would look fine in his drawing room, even if the taxidermist's bill was likely to be a boot in the rear. It would be worth it, though.

With a somewhat jerky movement, Daniel brought his firearm up and drew a bead on the smaller of the two...

"You know, that was almost fun." the dino-fem remarked. Amanda ventured a shaky smile at her double, Daysprinter. Outer differences aside, it was spooky talking to someone who used your exact gestures, stances, and tone inflections. And despite the snout, the voice was an uncanny match.

"This is my first mission. I really didn't see the fun in it." the human sorceress admitted, carefully controlling the amount of power she was feeding into the magically created corral that was penning the Triceratops. The effort wasn't as much as it should have been. Daysprinter used her powers to help the force-structure maintain its shape and integrity and cut her double's workload by roughly one-half.

"I've been with Excalibur for years now," replied 'Sprinter. "Ever since Xavier tried to keep Kurt and I from marrying. We kind of took eloping to the extreme. All the way back to Europe." She frowned. "For all the good he's done for mutant-kind and as morally perfect as the X- Men made him out to be, there are times when I have to believe... when I KNOW... that he's got his own prejudiced ideas. But then, he's only dinosaur."

A quick glance at her double's face confirmed that Daysprinter'd had the same thought as Amanda had. "Doesn't mean you have to like him, though," she voiced. They shared a brief smile of understanding, and Amanda made a mental note to speak to her at length if the opportunity came up.

Rachel hovered about an inch above a telepathically frozen Allosuar's head, observing Spiderman... er, Arachnosaur and Shadowcat. The fact that the web-slinger was sitting astride the neck of a web-reined Maiasaurus easily fielding Kitty's questions while the teen herself sat on the creature's head didn't cause the Cosmic Avatar to so much as bat an eyelid.

"...so you see," Peter Parker explained, "while it seems in your planet's history that the Cenozoic era was the dinosaurs' death rattle for the most part, it was our first breath after the storm. From the trauma in the Earth's tectonic plates, it looks as if our planet just barely avoided some massive natural disaster. I mean, we came within a scale's breadth of not evolving into the wonderfully civilized civilization we are today."

"So what about them?" questioned Kitty, indicating their captives. "I hate what we're doing to the planet, don't get me wrong, but I can't swallow that a little smog undid 65 million years of evolution."

Arachnosaur shrugged. "You never can tell what'll happen when you step outside of the boundaries of nature." Behind his back, Rachel rolled her eyes. "But you might wanna ask Saur Fantastic about all of this. He can probably give you a better explanation than I can. I think he's over by Nightcrawler and Rex trying to get that stupid interdimensional doorway to open again. I don't trust these artificial warps to tell you the truth."

Kitty, reminded of the Cross-Time Caper once again, started to ask him why in the world he thought naturally occurring warps were any more reliable, when a gun-shot rang out.

Captain Britain, Meggan, and Megon all started at the crack of gunfire and stared at the dark stain spreading over Calvin's shoulder. The young dinosaur let out a surprisingly shrill cry of distress, which was taken up an instant later by its sister. The noise brought the maternal instinct of Arachnasaur's mount to the surface, snapping her out of her uneasy passiveness and sending her bellowing towards her distressed offspring. Neither of the empathic Excalibur members had any luck in calming the huge female or the crying young, which became even more frightened as their mother became more agitated by Brian's attempts to block her from Meggan and Megon and... more importantly... her children.

As frustrated as she was, the mother dinosaur moved surprisingly fast. Fast enough to catch Kurt Wagner off guard. A negligent flip of the creature's tail rendered the teleporter half-conscious and sent him hurtling towards a brick wall.

Looking back on the fight later, Amanda had to admit to herself that she hadn't thought. Not for a second. She heard a Kitty-like voice (most likely Shadowcompsognathus') scream "Kurt!" and had seen a blur of black and red streak by. Fear for the man she loved caused her to move quicker than she ever could have under normal circumstances. Within a split- second, she'd spelled herself into Kurt's path and set up a cushioning field of energy. Problem was, she'd miscalculated the mass of the person she'd been trying to rescue. The shield slowed him (and Amanda) to the point where they wouldn't dash their brains out against the wall, but it still didn't make the impact at all pleasant.

Amanda's first lucid thought when her eyes started to focus again: 'Well, how do you like that? I caught the wrong Kurt. I'm sure Daysprinter will appreciate the fact that I just rescued her hubby, though. Maybe that happy thought will help my bones knit a little quicker...'

Nightstrider, having had his landing cushioned by Amanda's magic and then by Amanda herself, recovered from the jolt first. "My deepest thanks, Fraulein," the fork-tailed dinosaurian said as he helped Amanda peel herself off of the pavement beneath the wall. "Are you able to walk ?"

To Amanda's total surprise, she was. What had been sharp pains were dwindling away into bearable throbbings. "I guess so."

"Sehr gut. I... LOOK OUT!" They vanished in a puff of brimstone an instant before the Allosaur's foot came down on the spot where they'd been sitting.

The carnivore had slipped Rachel's precarious mental grip and was NOT in a good mood. His mate and young were bawling in distress, but he couldn't reach them. Nor could he seem to catch any of these annoying, noisy little creatures that seemed to be responsible for all of the discomfort he'd had to endure recently. Just when he thought he could crush one underfoot or in his jaws, it flew away, seemed to disappear, or spouted fire. And he had a headache as well. He turned his head sharply, trying to catch the flying, fire-spouting one again, and failing. He'd been pushed beyond what he could reasonably take. The predator roared in frustration and cut off the noise abruptly as some movement in the shadows of a building caught his eye.

Daniel Raffenhalm was scared almost to the point of losing bladder control. He had only wanted a trophy, was all. One big, stupid lizard to show to the gents at the lodge. Now all hell had broken loose and one of hell's major players was aiming its big, greenish-brown snout right at him.

Daniel loaded the rifle and fired again, causing the creature to roar as the bullet grazed its cheek. At that close range, the sound ruptured his eardrums, sending twin cascades of blood down Raffenhalm's neck and deafening him. However, he didn't have time to realize anything besides the pain in his ears as a wet, stinking maw the size of a steam-shovel closed over his upper torso and shoved railroad spikes into his mid- section. Through all the noise and confusion, most of those assembled were as deaf to Daniel's scream as he was himself.

"Oh God..." Meggan looked up in time to see a man's bottom and legs hanging from the jaws of the big meat-eater. Rachel was trying to pry open the animal's mouth with telekinetic force, but that just made it think she was trying to steal his prey and simply hung on tighter.

Finally, it decided that it wasn't hungry enough to put up with this and dropped the man as Rachel got ready to have another go. Innards trailing, the man's body fell and hit the pavement. And he was still alive, somehow. Meggan could feel it. The Allosaur, in the meantime had plodded back over to the other dinosaurs who had quieted down. All of them were looking almost bored.

Sobbing uncontrollably, Meggan tried to back away and stumbled against Brian. She hadn't even known where he was in the commotion. She looked up, her green eyes large with fear and another's pain. To her surprise, he lover folded her in his arms and held her tight.

"Shhhh. What's wrong, love?" he asked, softly, stroking her hair as if they were at home instead of this bedlam.

"It's awful, Brian. Awful..." Unable to continue, she buried her face against his brawny form and cried. She'd been so confused and scared lately, and this was the last straw. And Brian held Meggan as the last of her emotional stability unraveled, secure in the knowledge that she couldn't get along without him.

"Mein Gott..." Nightcrawler of Earth 616's Excalibur fought his rising gorge. He had medical training, but Rachel had only told him that the man was wounded badly. Kurt hadn't even imagined this. Evisceration didn't seem to cover it. He had to look away.

"Can you do anything for his pain?" he asked Rachel. "Can you get him to a hospital?"

Rachel shook her head. "I think this man is as good as dead. But I wanted to know what you think." The look on Nightcrawler's face confirmed Rachel's opinion. "If I try moving him, he'll literally fall apart. I've shut down most of his neural receptors, so I don't think he's in any pain."

"You don't think?"

"You can't always tell. Where's Amanda? She's a sorceress, maybe she can do something."

"I don't think so. Most of her healing spells take some sort of preparation. But I can ask her..."

Nightcrawler looked around at the mess of the battle site. In all of this craziness, he'd literally forgotten about Amanda. Without another word to Rachel he scrambled off to find her.

'Dummkopf!' he berated himself, 'This is her first mission and you couldn't even keep an eye on the woman?' It took some effort, but Nightcrawler calmed down. 'First mission, not first battle.' he reminded himself. 'Amanda is neither incompetent nor unintelligent. And she's been training. She's probably fine...'

Incoming, Fuzzy! Rachel's mental "voice" warned him a second before a familiar 'bamf' appeared off to his side.

"This belongs to you, I believe." Nightstrider's comment was directed at his double as he steered an extremely groggy Amanda Sefton over to a seat on the hood of a car that hadn't been compact until part of a building had landed on the roof.

"Thanks a bunch. Now I'm property." All the same, Amanda sat down and tried to get her bearings. Kurt Wagner (Earth 616) was at her side before her rump hit the hood.

"Are you all right? Mein Gott, your face! What happened?!"

"I've got a few scrapes is all. Nothing big." After crashing into a brick wall and going through multiple teleports, Amanda wasn't feeling up to answering many questions about anything.

Reluctantly Kurt pushed aside his questions and his concern. "Amanda, do you think you could do a quick healing spell?" While he questioned her, Kurt (Earth 99467) teleported away again.

"I don't know." No. "I can try." God, I hope it's nothing bigger than a scraped knee. "Why?" If this isn't life-threatening, I'm going to pass out right now and get it over with.

Don't bother, Kurt. Rachel informed him. He just died.

'Schiess...'

"Nothing, liebchen." Kurt smoothly covered the question over. "Just wanted an idea as to how you're feeling. Now let me get a look at you..."

"Well, there they go." Shadowcat and Phoenix were behind the police barricade again, observing the departure of the dinosaurs, speaking and non.

"Not a moment too soon, I say." Dai Thomas was understandably upset. "Damn thing killed a man and that walking rubber-band tells me that naught's gonna happen to 'im once he gets 'de-toxified' with the rest of the lot."

"Can't say I blame them," Rachel put in. "The man wasn't exactly himself."

"And it was self-defense," said Kitty.

"And that bastard had just shot his kid," Rachel reminded him.

Thomas growled some reply and turned his back. Rachel shrugged. The Inspector rarely saw eye to eye with Excalibur on anything. She prepared to fly off...

"Ray, the Blackbird's this way," Kitty reminded her best friend.

"But the Brigadier's house is this way." At Kitty's befuddled look, Rachel explained. "I promised her that I'd start working with Alysande today. It's not as if the kid can go to a regular shrink."

Kitty nodded , looking a little glum. "See you later, then."

"See ya, kiddo." Rachel took off with her usual flare of psychic flame. With a notable scowl on her face, Shadowcat stomped off towards the aircraft, only to be detained as Alistaire Stuart managed to shove his way past the police baracade.

"Kitty! Hold up for a second... out of my way, you brute..." Alistaire made an undignified scramble past one of Dai's men and stumbled over a pile of rubble in the street. "Shadowcat, wait!"

Katherine Pryde considered ignoring his hail, but in the end, stopped and waited for him, albeit with ill grace. "What is it?" she called. "You're too late to tag along with us. We've already taken care of the hard job."

"I know," he panted, finally managing to catch up to the disgruntled teen. "They weren't letting cars through for anything back there. I actually had to walk the last half kilometer." He looked around at the disaster area that had been a very nice shopping plaza and sighed. "Drat it all, I really have missed everything, haven't I? Imagine, a chance to take field notes on actual prehestoric life while it's still living, all down the tubes." He looked over at Kitty, the stormy expression that was on her face going completely over his head, as usual. "Kitty, you were here for the whole thing. What about if we go down to WHO's cafeteria later tonight and you can fill me in over a nice cup of hot chocolate. I need to know absolutely everything! Skin texture, group behavior..."

That was the final straw. "Forget it, Stuart!" Kitty exploded. "I DO have a LIFE, you know! I'm not going to spend my time sitting around and making a total idiot of myself just waiting for you to notice me!" Not even having the bare tip taken off of her annoyance, Kitty continued to her progress to the Blackbird, leaving a dumbfounded Alistaire to gaze after her in pop-eyed astonishment.

"Ow. Ow. OW!" Amanda restrained the juvenile urge to slap Nightcrawler's hands away from her side as he examined her injuries. "Well?" she asked as he finally stopped prodding.

"Nothing broken," he announced, looking more relieved about it than she felt. "Your ribs and legs are badly bruised, but that's nothing one of your 'miracle potions' and a bit of R&R won't put right."

"That's a relief." She got to her feet and let Kurt help her to the Blackbird. "Everyone else OK?" Amanda asked, noticing that they were a team-member short.

"Rachel had an errand to run." Brian was sitting in the back, still holding Meggan, who had calmed down, though she was still much paler than normal.

"Yeah saved the terrified little Brits from a fate worse than being eaten by big lizards all in a day's work we're fine happy lucky dandy," Kitty mumbled, drumming her fingers along the arm-rest of the co-pilot's seat. "Can we just go home?"

Amanda didn't reply, unless finding a seat and falling asleep instantly constituted an answer. Kurt fired up the Blackbird's engines. "Your wish is my command, Katzchen." The Blackbird took off and streaked towards Excalibur's lighthouse.

"Oh-oh-oh-oh, you got sprayed in England." Wade Wilson hummed to himself and the corpse splattered all over the wall of the uptown London apartment. It had been an easy hit, really. In fact, if not for the money, the merc known as Deadpool might not have taken this latest series of jobs at all. They seemed to mostly consist of knocking off pampered little British weasels. Hardly worth the effort.

But the money was enough to make even Wilson drool all over himself and therefore the merc felt justified in his decision to sink down to this level. Still, none of his targets had put up a real fight. It just wasn't *fun*, consarnit! Wade sighed and looked down at the remains of what had once been a man by the name of Nigel Frobisher.

"You know..." he said, observing that the man's skull was more or less intact, "I really oughta give the local cops something spicy to investigate. Something that just screams 'I died in agnony!' Yes... inspiration! I'll call it... 'At Home With Victim #5!'"

By the time Deadpool had blinked out via his usual high-tech teleporter , the apartment would have made Wes Craven blanch. Frobisher's left arm was in the kitchen, a mug of steeping tea (Earl Grey of course) gripped in its hand. His right arm lay on the opposite side, hand resting on top of the cordless phone. His head sat on the living room to greet all comers, its mouth held in a grotesque smile by half a roll of scotch tape. His legs were propped up on the table, feet encased in bunny- slippers. Most of his torso was spread out over the kill-site (the bedroom), but there was enough left of the lower body to decorate the toilet with... out of respect for the dead, let's draw a curtain of charity over the last bit, shall we? I will reveal, however, that when the first officers arrived on the scene, most of what little evidence was to be found was ruined by being exposed to large quantities vomit.

Nathaniel Sinister couldn't remember having ever been in a more anticipatory frame of mind. Flipping back through a life that spanned several centuries, that was saying something. Had he been other than the creature that was Sinister, his mood might have almost been called giddy . But he was, so it wasn't.

He had what he wanted. The final piece of a genetic puzzle that had taken him a lifetime to create, refine, and piece together. And for such a simple price as well: a few ounces of admittedly rare and suspicious chemicals. Sinister didn't know what this Courtney Ross wanted with them , and to be quite frank, he didn't find it worthy of his interest. He'd had them delivered and that was the end of it as far as he was concerned .

The only thing that bothered him about the entire transaction was how Ross had known how to get in touch with him and what type of trade he'd find worthy of interest. Perhaps there was a leak somewhere within his extremely small circle of... not equals or peers, Sinister had neither of those. Professional acquaintances then. If there was, that person would soon have reason to wish that they'd died at birth...

Sinister's mood was saved from transformation into total brooding by a small, winged bundle of fur landing on his arm. "Impudent beast!" snarled the geneticist, shaking it loose and dropping it to the floor. The creature, which bore more than a passing resemblance to a cat with wings, hissed and streaked underneath an partially dismantled stasis chamber. "I should have dissected that creature weeks ago," Sinister muttered, turning his attention back to the newly prepared genetic disks on the table. They needed to be looked over once more. Any potential flaws or impurities would have to be strained out.

Sinister looked over at the four-meter-long cloning chamber against the eastern wall of the room. The form inside still looked more like a lump of silly-putty fashioned into a human outline. Letting it develop further before completion was assured would have been a waste. But now, his plans were finally coming to fruition. This masterpiece would be everything that Sinister had failed to achieve with the existing Summers clan and so much more. This one would leave En Saba Nur crushed and defeated, perhaps even begging. These thoughts alone were enough to boost Sinister's spirits to new levels as he went back to work.

Nightcrawler looked down the flight of stairs leading into Excalibur's basement, pondering several questions. Was Amanda awake yet? If she wasn't, should he wake her up? And most importantly, was it worth seeing if Bertha would take her job as sentry seriously enough to actually step on anyone who tried to wake Amanda up, as the young sorceress had threatened?

Mind made up, Kurt teleported down to the bottom of the stairs and peered around the dimly lit, cavernous room. Bertha was indeed curled up in front of the passenger car's door, sound asleep and snoring in a bass purr. Due to the dragon's dark purple skin, Nightcrawler could only make out the vaguest outline of her body and the slight glints that marked her eyes.

As he got closer, he could see that Bertha's serpentine neck twisted around so that her head rested on her forelegs on top of her equally snake-like tail, which lay coiled around to cover her fore-feet. The effect was like that of an ouroboros, a giant sea-serpent clutching its own tail in its teeth.

If Nightcrawler had bothered to wake up the dragon, she might have let him through. Then again, she might not have. And if he didn't ask, she couldn't very well refuse him entrance. Employing all of his considerable agility and speed, Kurt scampered over Bertha's back and slipped into the room. Bertha snapped her head up, blinked once or twice , and went back to sleep.

Amanda and Rachel had made a quick jaunt to Braddock Manor earlier in the week to pick up Amanda's belongings. It had seemed easier just to ship them from storage to the Manor and go pick them up than try to get someone to actually ferry all of it out to the lighthouse. Kurt had to navigate around hip-deep piles of boxes just to get to Amanda's bed, just about the only part of the room not covered in clothing, books, or assorted bric-a-brac. He couldn't resist smiling as he noticed she was still in her costume... outfit!... from this morning and curled up on top of the blankets around her Bamf doll. He still didn't know whether or not he should wake her, though.

'I am afraid I will have to interrupt her well-earned nap.' he decided, 'But at least it will be done with a bit of style.' Moving smoothly and quickly, Kurt stretched out at Amanda's back. She didn't so much as twitch. All the same, he waited until he was sure he hadn't jostled her awake and nuzzled her neck as gently as he could. A slight grin creased Amanda's lips, but she still didn't awake. Her lover nibbled gently at her earlobe, being careful with the pressure he exerted with his fangs. When Amanda rolled over, he was certain that had done it, but she only snuggled close to him, that faint smile still in place.

'Maybe I should just let her sleep.' he considered. It had been an exciting morning for all of them, but Amanda had taken quite a few lumps . She'd barely managed to stay awake long enough for one of her healing potions to steep and had been dead to the world for over seven hours now . Maybe he should just let her alone or doze off with her. The problem was that they'd had plans for that evening, and it was nearly half-past five.

'One more attempt,' he decided. 'And if this doesn't work, our plans can simply wait until she's rested.' Kurt leaned his head forward and planted a tender, but firm, kiss on Amanda's smile. This time she stirred, realized that she was nestled against another living being, and opened her eyes. Nightcrawler found himself staring into two sleep- clouded pools of green.

"Hey, Blue." She grinned at him, sat up, and stretched. "How long have I been out?"

"About seven hours. Perhaps a little more." Amanda leaned against him as he sat up. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got knocked around, chugged a healer's brew, and cratered." She grinned up at him. "Pretty good, actually."

Kurt wrapped his arms around Amanda and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Wunderbar. Good enough to follow through with this evening's plans?"

Amanda's hand flew to her mouth and a guilty expression blossomed across her face. "I'd totally forgotten! It must be almost six and I haven't even thought of what I'm going wear yet!" Amanda all but flew from the bed and began tearing through her clothes. "You were a sweetheart not to bother me, Kurt, but I wish you'd woken me up sooner." After a little searching, she unearthed an ankle-length sleeveless dress of a shade that matched her eyes perfectly. "This should work fine, if I can find some decent shoes. What are we going to see anyway? 'Les Miserables' again?"

"That's right!" Kurt grinned. "I never did tell you which performance we were going to."

"Well, are you going to tell me now? I'd like to know weather or not I'm going to have to tote an extra box of Kleenex and maybe some Visene in my purse."

"Never fear, mein geliebte. Our viewing pleasure tonight shall be... drumroll please... 'The Madwoman of Chaillot!'"

Nightcrawler prided himself on his fast reflexes when it came to his acrobatics, but he didn't even see Amanda coming. The next thing he knew , Amanda had tackled him and he lay flat on his back while his lady-love held him in a passionate liplock.

"You darling, wonderful man," Amanda laughed once she finally released him. "I've been dying to see that!"

"Amanda..." he wheezed softly, "Please?"

Amanda looked down and noticed that she was kneeling on Nightcrawler's chest. "Oops. Sorry." She clambered off of him, but wrapped him up in a hug the instant he sat back up.

"I take that to mean I made a wise choice?" he grinned.

"You bet." Another quick kiss. "But we'd better both get ready, don't you think?"

"Excellent idea. I'd love to help you get ready. Shall I start by helping you out of this rumpled..." Kurt dodged the first pillow that Amanda aimed at his head.

"You wish!"

"Well then, you can help me." He wasn't so lucky the second time. "This is what I get for offering to entertain a beautiful lady?" He continued to pick feathers out of his hair and forced a plaintive note into his voice. "I am truly wounded."

"You're just holding me up." Amanda was having to exercise all of her will-power to keep from laughing and it showed as she escorted him out. "Out, out, out! I need to get dressed!"

"Promise that your watch-dragon won't eat me?"

"Bertha wouldn't hurt a fly."

"How can you be so certain, may I ask?"

"She told me so. Now go on." As the door closed behind him, Kurt found himself nose to snout with a disgruntled, smoke-fuming dragon.

"I've had just about enough of over-sized lizards for the day. Auf Weidersehen." Nightcrawler teleported to his room and began to get ready himself.

"Keesha, can you keep a secret?"

Excalibur's youngest members, Kitty Pryde and Keesha Scott, were sprawled out in the lighthouse's living room watching "Lonesome Dove" with Lockheed perched on the back of the couch. The video had been Wolverine's birthday gift to Kitty, which had, in the tradition of all important packages, arrived a day too late. The gift was sort of an inside joke. Back when Kitty had been a member of the X-Men, she and Logan had watched the mini-series every time it came on the air, but for some reason or another, Kitty had never managed to see the last part.

Keesha turned her eyes away from the screen and to Kitty's face. "Me and the dead, 'Cat. What's up?"

"Ah... well..." Kitty felt awkward confiding in Keesha instead of Rachel, but two things helped her decide that it would be a good idea. Telling her troubles to Rachel was a release, but she always felt just a little odd about it. Rachel had been through so much in her life that Kitty always felt as if she was complaining about her stubbed toe to someone who had lost both legs. The second was that Keesha was someone that Kitty could relate to in age as well as experience. And besides that, she simply liked the Morlock girl (at the moment anyway) and Rachel wasn't available.

"I have a date tonight," Kitty finally said. "With Pete Wisdom."

"Excellent! When is he going to pick you up?" Keesha (who had code- named herself Moodswing, even if she wasn't really a part of Excalibur's active roster) couldn't have cared less about the movie now.

Kitty was a little surprised that Keesha thought Pete was worth going out with. Most of her close friends seemed to turn up their noses whenever Pete's name came up, so Kitty really hadn't felt that she could talk to them about it. Keesha's interest made Kitty all the more eager to confide in her.

"I'm going to take my boat out in about ten minutes. He's supposed to be meeting me over on the shore. We'll probably run into London and have dinner. Maybe catch a movie."

"A romantic midnight getaway." Keesha's mouth was curled into a fanciful half-smile. "Didn't think you had it in you 'Cat. Way to go."

Kitty actually found herself blushing slightly. "Thanks. Do I look OK?"

"I was sort of wondering why you were wearing a blouse instead of a T- shirt." Keesha took a more objective look at Kitty's outfit. "Hmmmmm. The white jeans work with the blue blouse," she finally decided, "and the make-up looks OK. But you should lose the diamond earrings. Go for something a little less flashy. What about those little gold hoops you wore a few weeks ago?"

"He's seen me in those," Kitty protested.

"He won't remember," Keesha assured her. "He's a guy and it doesn't seem like he pays much attention to looks anyway." A thought dawned on her. "And if you're going into London, be careful! Mandy and Kurt left for there a few minutes ago. To see some play, I think." Keesha didn't seem to know how big London really was. "And I guess you don't want them to know about it, since the blue guy doesn't seem to like Pete much and Amanda's still undecided."

"How'd you know?" Kitty asked.

"Ah, the great mystic Moodswing knows all and sees all and notices that the room temperature plummets whenever Pete's name comes up." The red- skinned Morlock grinned over at Kitty. "Your secret is safe with me, Kemosabe. Unless something important comes up."

"Thanks." Kitty scowled suddenly. "I just realized, I'm not going to get to see the end of this movie again!"

"Read the book," Keesha advised.

"Is it any good?"

"I dunno. I haven't read it."

Kitty made a face and Lockheed hissed. "I think I'd better get going. When Ray gets back in, ask her what took her so long, will you?"

"Ask the cosmic fire-bird how she dares to have a life. Gotcha. Have fun." Keesha waved a good-bye to Kitty, stole her place on the couch, and turned her attention back to the movie.

Lockheed had other ideas, apparently. The little lavender dragon blocked the doorway as best he was able and fumed when Kitty simply phased through him and the door. He didn't know where Kitty was going exactly, but if it had anything to do with Pete it couldn't be good. Still snarling curses, the little dragon flew over to Keesha and tugged on a lock of black hair.

"No way," the Morlock maintained. "Kitty's going out to have a night of fun with no one breathing down her neck and no one quietly disapproving of the guy she decides to check out. And that includes you. Now just calm down and- OW!" Lockheed flew off, a few strands of Keesha's hair still clamped in his jaws. "Come here you little winged bastard!" The Morlock gave chase, hoping that Kitty wasn't too attached to her pet.

"And here we are." Amanda lowered her arms and let her teleport spell fizzle out as they appeared in front of the theater. "Beats the Blackbird, doesn't it?"

"Ja." He looked around, suddenly uncomfortable.

Amanda noticed. "What?"

"We've managed to attract quite a bit of attention."

"And this bothers you? I thought you thrived on an audience." The two of them walked up to the box office at a quick pace, pretending to ignore the stares that followed them. A few of the comments that drifted their way were harder to disregard.

"I do enjoy an audience," Kurt admitted, "but only when I'm putting on a performance. But when I'm simply trying to walk down the street, it's not all that flattering." They turned in their tickets and went in to find their balcony seats. "I wish you'd let me bring along my fedora and trenchcoat." he finished with a sigh.

"Your usual low-key motif, lover?" They found their seats and Amanda settled herself at Kurt's side. "I'll go back and get them if you want, if it really bothers you..."

"You will not. You'd miss the opening curtain." Kurt ran one hand through his hair and sighed in frustration. The words that he wanted weren't coming together easily. "It's not as bad as I'm making it out to be. I suppose I've gotten used to the gawking masses by now... but it doesn't seem quite fair to you. Shouldn't you at least be able to go into civilized company without having to explain why your escort looks like a minor demon?" He didn't voice his deeper fear that those who felt strongly enough about the anti-mutant movement might do a lot worse than simply stare and make rude comments.

"If that's what you're worried about, Kurt Wagner, let me lay your fears to rest." Amanda slipped her left hand into Kurt's right and twined her fingers with his. "I love you because you're a generous, kind , caring person and an all-around fun guy to be with, not just because of that handsome face." Despite the fact that she was trying to assuage Kurt's doubts, Amanda couldn't help teasing him slightly. "The tail does have its advantages, though."

"Danke."

"Seriously, Kurt, we've been through this before, and my atitude on it hasn't changed. If the rest of the world is too caught up in the fact that you're blue and furry to see what me and Kitty and Logan and the others see in you, then to hell with them. If you want to wear your Bogart outfit because you're a romantic scamp, I don't have a problem. But you don't need to hide behind it because you're afraid some pea- brain'll condemn me for associating with you."

"Nice speech." Kurt grinned and squeezed Amanda's hand.

"I'd like to think so. Feeling better?"

"The instant you smiled at me, liebchen." The house lights dimmed, announcing the beginning of the first act and giving the two young lovers a bit of privacy for a lingering kiss. Reassuring and romancing done for the moment, they settled in to enjoy the production.

Deadpool whistled to himself and carelessly juggled two crystal paperweights whose combined worth was more than he was being paid for his current job. "That's five outta six, boss-lady," he remarked, never once removing his eyes from the weights. For one thing, he was close to breaking his record for paperweight juggling. And besides that, he didn't feel like meeting his current employer's gaze again. Wade Wilson was a damn good mercenary and not afraid of anyone, but he also wasn't an idiot. The woman sitting behind the desk was as ruthless as any bounty-hunter and probably more so than some. She gave Deadpool the creeps.

"And I've paid you five sixths of your promised fee, Mr. Wilson." Sat- yr-9's voice made Arctic winds seem positively balmy. "You know who your final target is. She and a friend of hers have reservations at Garden's Best tonight. You can apprehend her there. Just remember, I want her alive and well. Harm a hair on her head and the things they did to you at Fleshworks will appear as a Sunday school picnic..."

To hell with his juggling record. Deadpool yanked his hand out from under one of the falling paperweights. It fell to the marble-tiled floor with a satisfying crash. "That's private history," he snapped. "Bring it up again and you can just find yourself a new merc. After you get out of intensive care, that is." He hoped that his mask covered his expressions as well as he always thought it did. Underneath it, he could feel his scabbed, blistered skin prickling with a sensation that would have meant gooseflesh with anyone else.

"So terribly sorry." Yeah. Right. "Now, are you going to do your job or sit here all evening thinking up snappy repartee?"

"And fight a battle of wits with an unarmed opponent? Never!" Wade tossed the other paperweight over his shoulder and zapped away. He felt more than slightly uneasy about this whole thing, almost as if he was being manipulated.

'Getting paranoid in my old age, maybe? Hell, why not? It's kept me alive this long.'

"And besides," he added aloud as he materialized on top of a police station, "it's fun!" Deadpool got his bearings and loped off towards his destination.

Kitty's "romantic midnight getaway" was not turning out as she had hoped. The first bad omen had been Pete picking her up in one of W.H.O's jeeps, which had caused her to smudge her white jeans almost instantly. And the ride over to the restaurant had been anything but pleasant, with Pete making snide remarks about how health food rated about the same as lawn clippings as far as taste went. And Kitty had never been one to back down from a challenge of any kind. But at least they'd been able to get to their table without bloodshed. "Will you two be wanting a menu or have you already made up your minds?"

Pete Wisdom looked up from toying with his water glass and scowled at the annoyingly cheerful waitress. "Nothin' fer me, thanks, but I think that one there'd like a bowl of oats and alfalfa with a side-order o' mealworms."

"And the 'gentleman'," Kitty hissed between gritted teeth, "would like the front-quarters of a pig fried in axle grease!"

The befuddled waitress looked from one customer to the other. They might have been joking, but then again, there was nothing amusing in their tone or manners. She wisely took the safe route out of the fray. "I'll just go get those menus, then," she tittered and scurried off.

Pete and Kitty slouched back in their seats, glaring at each other from across the table. "Well, this is a bloody washout." Pete grumbled after a lengthy pause, mentally kicking himself for having started the entire damned thing out on the wrong foot.

"Look," Kitty flared, "if you're having such an awful time, just bring me home, OK?"

"Now what makes you think I'm havin' an awful time?" Pete snapped, "I'm having a great time making a fool of myself and puttin' me foot in me mouth up to the bloody knee every time I try t'say anythin'." Silence hung in the air again.

"Pete, what would you rather be doing?" Kitty finally asked.

"Anything and nothin'." Pete decided he'd best explain that comment before Kitty phased the bread-basket into his chest. "I feel pretty lucky that you decided I was worth your time, Pryde, an' I wouldn't trade spendin' time with you, but I'd rather do it someplace where I can eat what's on the menu. And by the time we're done here, I'm gonna be snarling at anything with a face, so let me apologize in advance for the lousy evenin', a'right?"

"Why didn't you just say something instead of behaving like a total jerk?"

"Well, the reservations were already made, now weren't they? An' anyway , I asked you where you'd like to eat and this place is what you said. Couldn't very well welsh out." The waitress all but ran by their table again, but at least dropped a couple of menus in their laps when she did . Pete picked his up and tried not to look too disappointed as he scanned what seemed to be a long list of sugar, fat, cholesterol, and taste-free roughage. "Don't they have nothin' in here with a bit of grease on it?" he implored.

"I really don't think so." Kitty was feeling much better about how the evening was going, now that she knew that Pete was just trying to show her a good time on her terms. The fact that he was falling short of it went to the back of her mind for the time being. "They do have ranch dressing for the salads, though."

"Which salad? There's got to be at least 30 of 'em bein' served here. And here I was thinking that I could put up with this horrible rabbit food to be with you, but now I actually have to eat this muck..." Pete sighed again, but was determined to brave out the next couple of hours. There was chicken on the menu at least. Boiled, skinless, pale chicken breast served on a bed of lettuce and celery with lemon as a garnish. Pete groaned inwardly and closed the menu.

The waitress finally minced back over. "Um... are you ready to order now?" Pete maintained that he really wasn't hungry while Kitty ordered a Caesar salad and vegetarian lasagna.

The waitress left and Kitty stood up. "Be back in a minute," she said by way of explanation and headed for the ladies room. Pete waited for a few minutes, not really expecting her to take long. Pryde really didn't seem to be the kind of girl who wasted a lot of time trying to "fix" a face that was near perfect as it was. But by the time her food was served, she still wasn't back. Pete had started wondering if he should further traumatize their server by flagging her down and asking her to search the restroom for his dining partner, when Kitty walked back to the table and plunked a brown paper bag down before him. Pete noted with no small sense of satisfaction that the paper was nearly transparent with soaked-in grease.

"Went over to the fish and chips place we passed a couple blocks back." Kitty was obviously pleased with herself. "I figured if you want to clog your arteries, you were going to do it anyway, so why starve you?"

Pete couldn't fully repress the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I think I'm in love." He might have said more or told the other patrons (who were either staring at the greasy sack like something the dog had left on the floor or just about drooling at the sight) to bugger off, but he didn't get a chance to.

"BANZAI!" The yell was almost a battle cry. No one really gave much of a damn what it was, as it was accompanied by a scarlet-garbed mercenary crashing his way in through the restaurant's plate-glass window. Pete and Kitty hit the floor with the rest of the staff and customers. The figure rolled off of the table he had landed on, and onto his feet. "All right, will the soon-to-be abductee known as Katherine Pryde please raise her hand?"

Kitty sighed inwardly. It was going to be one of THOSE nights. She and Pete readied themselves for a fight, each trying not to show the slight thrill they felt at the thought of some action, lest the other think that they went looking for trouble.

Kurt Wagner had his attention divided between the scene on the stage below and on his lover. The play had reached a truly touching scene, as the dream-befuddled Countess Aurelia confused her young ally Pierre with her true love, who had abandoned her long ago. Kurt didn't want to miss any of it, but he'd also noticed that Amanda was sniffing softly into a tissue. In the dim light, he couldn't read her expression well enough to tell if she was just blowing her nose or if the poignant dialogue had touched her. Compromising, he slipped a comforting arm around Amanda's shoulders until the moment had passed.

"That was one to tug on the old heart-strings, now wasn't it?" Though the words were whispered, Kurt almost jumped as they broke the silence. A thin, mustached elderly man in a red vest stood at his side, bearing a tray with two glasses. "Sorry to bother you, sir," he apologized, "but the gentleman below asked me to bring you this champagne with his complements." With ease seemingly borne of a lifetime of practice he passed a glass to Amanda, who accepted it without ever taking her eyes from the stage, and then one to Kurt. Before any questions about which gentleman exactly had sent the drinks could be asked, the server had already whisked away down the stairs. Slightly confused, Kurt sat back and sipped at his drink, easily becoming engrossed in the play once more ..

Once the curtain went down, Nightcrawler and Amanda exited the theater with the rest of the crowd. The sun had set completely and stars glinted down on London.

"There now," Kurt teased the woman on his arm, "wasn't that worth waking up for?"

Amanda giggled. "Yes. Yes, it most cer-tan-ly was. Can you ever forgive me for almost sleeping through it, Pierre?"

Nightcrawler grinned. This had happened every time he'd taken Amanda to a new play before and it seemed that she hadn't broken the habit in the time they'd been apart. For days she'd be making jokes that no one else would get. "My name's Kurt." he reminded her, playing along.

"Nonsense." Amanda looked down at her watch and stumbled the instant she stopped watching where she was going. "It is... 8:27. At 8:27, all men are named Pierre. And... WHOOPS!" Amanda's legs buckled and only Kurt's quick reaction saved her from hitting the pavement. Despite her lack of coordination, she didn't seem much bothered. In fact, she was positively giddy. "Nice hands." she remarked, smiling widely.

"Are you all right?" Kurt asked, starting to worry. If it had been later or if Amanda'd had more to drink or both, then this would have been less worrisome. But neither of them had had enough to get even mildly tipsy.

Amanda brushed aside his concern. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Just need to sit down for minute, then we can go find something else to do. OR," she grinned seductively, "we can go back to the lighthouse and find something to do. Have I told you that you look sexy in anything?"

"Or maybe we should get a room somewhere and let you sleep this off. You aren't teleporting us back in this condition, and I'm certainly not up to it." Kurt guided Amanda over to a nearby bench and helped her to sit down. Was this some sort of side-effect from that decoction she'd drunken earlier?

"I've been sleeping all day," she pouted. "You're not sleepy anymore." Despite her words, she snuggled against his chest and closed her eyes. "Maybe just a minute or two, but then we're taking us home..."

Despite his worry, Kurt smiled. "I didn't mean here, liebchen. Let's get you to a nice warm bed, ja? You'll feel better there." No response from Amanda, save for a soft, sleepy mumble and very slight movement. "Liebchen?" He gave her a slight shake, but she didn't respond at all this time. "Amanda, this is not funny. Wake up."

"Don't bother her, Kurt, she's going to be out for a while." Before Nightcrawler could place the voice coming from behind him, strong hands had gripped his arms and lifted him up. And up. A second later, he was watching the ground skim along far beneath him.

"Hiya, Fuzzy. Remember me?" asked the voice just beside his ear.

That one only took a split second to recognize. "Rogue?!"

"In the flesh. An' Ah think you asked for this a while back." Before he could question or protest, Kurt found himself being turned around and thoroughly kissed by a pair of warm, supple lips. Two things prevented any enjoyment from coming out of that experience: remembrance of Rogue's powers and the fact that his worries over Amanda's safety had just tripled now that he recalled the owner of that other voice.

"Mmmph!" Rogue broke off the kiss. "I'd like to get back down, if you please." he requested, making his voice as cold as he could. Rogue looked definitely crestfallen, but doubled back along their flight-path.

"Ah thought you'd be happy for me." Rogue's voice was soft as they touched down.

"Liebchen, I could not be happier for you." Nightcrawler 'ported over to Amanda's prone form an instant later, getting between her and Mystique. "And I also could not be more disappointed." he finished, glaring with undisguised mistrust at the woman whose blue skin and yellow eyes matched his own so closely. "So where is the rest of the Brotherhood?" He'd never accepted the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants as Freedom Force. As far as he was concerned, they'd had a different name, but the same agenda.

"They're not here. It's just Rogue and I." Mystique gave her foster- daughter a meaningful glance. "And if I had my way it would not even be that."

"I'd rather it that way as well." Nightcrawler snapped. "What did you do to Amanda?"

"A potent sleeping powder." Mystique shrugged, as if drugging people was an everything thing, as common as tieing one's shoes. "Don't worry. It should wear off in an hour or less."

"Mama didn't hurt her none, Kurt," Rogue insisted. "You oughta know Ah'd never stand by for somethin' like that."

"Forgive me, Rogue, but somehow I don't quite trust you at the moment."

Mystique broke in. "I'd just as soon not engage in what we're going to say in the middle of the street." The red-haired shape-shifter tossed an annoyed look at the unconscious woman. "Isn't there someplace you can put her?"

"Yes. As far away from you as possible." Nightcrawler was furious, but refusing to show it in more than words. How dare this woman use either of them to engage in her headgames? And why always him? That wasn't important at the moment. All that mattered was getting Amanda away from here...

Rogue put a gentle hand on Kurt's arm. "Fuzzy, ya got every right ta be mad at both of us, but could ya at least hear what we've got ta say? Ah swear it's important and you'll get some straight answers outta both of us for once."

Kurt wanted to say no, but Rogue was a friend and former team-mate. If nothing else, he at least had to hear her out. "All right," he gave in. "But not until I know Amanda's safe."

A few minutes later, Rogue set Nightcrawler down on the front steps of Braddock Manor. "Last stop, ev'rybody off." Kurt managed to muster a slight smile, which lasted all of a nanosecond. He shifted Amanda's weight in order to get a better grip on her and looped his tail underneath the door knocker. The heavy brass ring all but smashed Nightcrawler's tail with the first knock.

"That," he ground out, "was stupid."

"If ya needed an extra hand, all ya hadda do was ask." Rogue snapped, knocking on the door herself. She hadn't expected Kurt to be thrilled to see her or Mystique, considering that they hadn't picked the most courteous of ways to announce themselves. But Rogue had explained to all of her team-mates more than once the emotional bond she had with Mystique, and had hoped that Nightcrawler would understand why she'd feel the need to go back to the only mother she had. Shoot, he knew what it was like not to have anyone willing to step forward and claim you as their own flesh and blood. Darn right he should have understood. Instead , he'd been giving her the cold shoulder and focusing most of his attention on Amanda.

That thought caused Rogue a guilty moment as an elderly, chubby, yet cheerful lady opened the door and exclaimed over both Excalibur members. She really hadn't liked the idea of letting Mystique drug Amanda to get some privacy with Kurt, but it had been the only way that the shape- shifter would agree to this meeting. Not for the first time, Rogue reflected on how her "mother" didn't seem to trust anyone or care who got in the way of her goals. Feeling much less self-righteous than she had a moment ago, Rogue followed Nightcrawler into the mansion.

Kurt followed Emma, the manor's caretaker, into the sitting room and lay Amanda on the divan, refusing to admit that it was a relief to set her down as the circulation returned to his arms.

"Don't worry your poor head about your sweetheart there, Mr. Nightcrawler," Emma assured him. "She'll most likely sleep it off in an hour or two from the looks of her. 'Til then she'll be as safe as a pea in its pod here."

Kurt decided against telling Emma that Amanda was drugged, not drunk and simply thanked her. It was a strong temptation to stay by Amanda's side. A chilling thought occurred to him. What if Mystique had poisoned her? Rogue had backed up Raven Darkholme's claim that it had been only a sleeping agent, but Raven could have lied to her as well. He'd given his word to hear them out, but was he willing to balance that against Amanda's life?

'Not TOO paranoid, are we, mein freund?'

He leaned forward quickly, planted a kiss on Amanda's forehead, and turned back to Rogue. If he didn't go through with it now, he'd talk himself into staying. And he didn't want to get into the habit of breaking promises, even to people who deserved to be lied to.

Meanwhile, back in "Garden's Best", long since devoid of customers and staff, Deadpool held Pete Wisdom in a throat-crushing headlock. The merc's healing factor had just finished closing up a score of hot-knife induced wounds and knitting several broken ribs, delivered courtesy of Pete Wisdom and a heavy wooden chair. His eyes were also still having trouble focusing, thanks to the kick that his intended target had delivered upside his head. He couldn't even think of where the other blows had landed without wincing. Needless to say, Deadpool was not in his usual, cheerful, fun-loving state of mind.

Shadowcat's voice floated out of nowhere. "Let go of the Brit or I'll crack your skull this time! I mean it!"

"I'm shaking. Really."

Kitty phased out of the wall and hit the mercenary on the head with a heavy pot, sloshing its contents over Pete and Deadpool. A loud clang vibrated through the restaurant as Deadpool went down in a spray of lentil soup. Kitty stood, ready to kick the merc's head in should he get up, but he disappeared with a loud fizzing noise before she could do anything. She stared at the spot that had been occupied by Deadpool for another second, then turned to Pete, who was already on his feet.

"Cou- *cough* couldn't you have found something even passingly edible t'take him out with?" Pete croaked, rubbing his throat.

An exasperated sigh came from Kitty. "I save your life and you still complain?!"

"I bloody well distracted him for you! 'Sides, you had to save me arse, 'cuz he was after you. It's tradition or some such trash." Pete brushed ineffectively at the soup stains on his coat, wondering how come his clothes always seemed to get more wear and tear around Pryde than in his usual line of work.

"And I'm sure having your vocal cords ground into your esophagus was all part of your master plan." Kitty looked around the stretch of shattered dinnerware and over-turned tables that had been a peaceful scene less than an hour ago. "I think dinner's a bust."

"Wonderful powers of observation, Pryde." Pete let Kitty phase him through the wall and onto the street. "So what do you feel like doing with the rest of the night?"

Mystique met Rogue and Nightcrawler a few blocks away from the theater in a small public park. Nightcrawler was in absolutely no mood to be polite.

"All right, you've gotten my attention. I'm here. What do you want? No, nevermind." He turned on Rogue. "Is this what you meant when you told the X-Men that you wanted a 'normal' life? Going back into crime? Negating everything that the Professor did for you?"

"Fuzzy, if half o' what Ah suspect is true, the Prof is lucky I don't fly out to Muir, dig him up, and scatter his bones." The auburn haired woman sat down on the grass, uneasy but trying not to show it. "Evah wonder why Ah didn't just run off to Forge t'ask him about this implant as soon as Ah knew what his power was?" Rogue's fingers glided over to the small dark spot on her wrist, where the implant rested just under the skin. "Or why Ah didn't ask Hank or Moira before Ah evah knew about Forge? The notion nevah even popped inta mah skull until Xavier died. Just like that.

"Ah ain't in Kitty's league, Fuzzy, but Ah know I ain't no dumb kissy- face bimbo neither. The only reason Ah can think of that it nevah even occured to me t'look for any help other than Xavier's was that he didn't want me to. An' gettin' someone t'go along with what you want ain't all that hard for a telepath, ya know."

Nightcrawler shook his head in mute disbelief.

Mystique's voice, utterly controlled, broke into the conversation. "Get over it, Kurt. Xavier was not the patron saint of mutant-kind, no matter what you want to believe."

"Your opinion does not matter to me, Raven. Not in the least. There is no doubt in my mind that you've encouraged her in these distorted views."

"And there is no doubt in my mind that in spite of the ethics that Xavier impressed upon all psi's under his roof about not meddling with the minds of others, it never really stopped him from using them for convenience, did it? Let a small town forget that their homes were trashed by a Sentinel, mess with an over-weight circus-freak's head to make sure he doesn't remember ever having been invited to join the good- guys club... that sort of thing." She didn't once drop her gaze from Nightcrawler's as she continued. "Not that I blame him. It's always easier to cover your tracks than face the music. But do you really think that he would find it so hard to convince himself that keeping one more powerful young mutant from leaving the fold was such a horrible thing?"

"Ah don't think it was like that... not exactly." Rogue wasn't looking at either of the other two mutants, but seemed to have found something truly fascinating about the patch of grass near her feet. "Fuzzy, the Professor promised to help me control mah powers. He said he'd help me get Carol out of mah head. But by the time he left with Lil , Ah still couldn't touch anyone. Havin' Carol's persona in mah mind helped me get a grip on mah powers whenever she was in control, and it took the Seige Perilous ta get rid of her. Ah don't think that the Pro... that Charles withheld any help from me..." Mystique made a derisive sound in the back of her throat. Rogue ignored her. "Maybe he knew how mah powers worked better than Ah did. He'd been in mah head t'use 'em more than once, after all. Maybe thought it'd be better for me t'stay with the X-Men than to try and get help somewhere else. Look, either way , it's over, an' sittin' here tryin' t'figure out why Xavier did what ain't why we showed up." Rogue threw a laden look at Mystique. "Is it, momma?"

Raven looked away. "No."

Kurt had officially had it. "Unless some information regarding this situation comes my way within the next ten seconds," he snapped, "I am simply going to make my way back to the manor and wait for Amanda to wake up. I've put up with this for your sake so far, Rogue, but my patience does have limits."

The blue-skinned metamorph looked over at him coolly. "Fine. I'm your mother, Kurt."

Back in Braddock Manor, Amanda Sefton slept on, blissfully unaware of the system shock that her boyfriend had just gotten. In a hard, wooden chair across from the divan she was lying on sat dark-haired Jaimie Braddock, possessed of the mutant power was to warp the threads of reality to his own pleasure. He might have been truly dangerous on a much larger scale if he hadn't been cheerfully and totally insane. He didn't mind being as mad as a hatter, though. He knew that the entire world was a dream, and he was there to make it a little more real.

For instance, there was this tasty girl that his little brother's blue demon friend had dropped off, probably because he was tired of her which meant she was safe to play with. Wasn't it odd how every super-hero had to have a blonde girlfriend? Jaimie could understand, though. Before the dream, he'd had several and it was true that blondes were more fun. But that wasn't important right now.

Well, it hadn't been important anyway, but it was important now. Dreams were funny like that. For instance, now it was important that this woman had nice breasts, but not great ones. A little tug at a thread here and a strand there and that was fixed. Well, no. Now they looked clumsy and a bit stupid, bulging here and there in a bra that was at least five sizes too small. So maybe there was something to the original size. There, that was better, good as new. So he wasn't good at the details that required judgment and perception. It was his dream, he didn't need to be.

So he looked at her face, which was really a nice face and didn't need fixing. But her hair was really very stupid hair. Nice color and texture , but too short. Jaimie detested short hair on girls and long hair on boys. Girls had long hair to be pulled as they ran across the playground . That was just the way things were. So tug, tweak, and jerk there. Now she looked like some princess out of a story book, with long, burnished gold hair flowing all across the divan, over the arms and side, and onto the floor like some odd dustcloth.

Then, of course, you had to look at her through the threads. The threads let you see things as they were, not just what they looked like. For instance, you'd never be able to tell that this lady had magic in her just by looking at her from the outside. But it was small magic compared to what she could do.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Lazy, lazy little girl." Jaimie waggled a forefinger at the lady, letting her know that laziness couldn't be tolerated. But then , he'd never liked to work hard. He'd like gambling and games and exciting things. So why shouldn't everyone else? "Here. I'll give you a help out, lazy little girl." Twist and tear and knot and rip. Yes, she was moaning in her sleep, but was just because changing the threads always hurt a lot. Nothing for him to worry about, since little girls' tears had never affected him much.

"Master Jaimie!" Oh, crumpets. Emma'd caught him. "Now, if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, you're to go to bed at nine. No buts now. You've your tea and cake, so it's off to bed with you. The very idea, sitting about in your underwear in the presence of a guest! And a LADY at that! Law, if anyone was to see you, they'd think I'd raised a little savage."

Emma was part of his dream too. She'd died, but he hadn't liked that. He'd brought her back, just like he recalled her most fondly. In spite of the early bed-time, he really did like Emma. And of course he had to listen. You had to listen to your nanny. He got up slowly and walked up the stairs to his room, changing the darkness to light as he went up.

You never knew what was hiding in the shadows.

"That was tactless, Momma." Rogue snapped.

"He asked for the information and I gave it to him."

Kurt was now sitting on the grass next to Rogue, trying to absorb what he'd just been told. "I... I had thought there was a connection of some sort. Ever since the X-Men thwarted your attempt on Kelly's life. But I thought it was more distant..." He collected himself. "I know you lie whenever it suits you. How do I know you're not now?"

"Ohfortheloveof... I didn't come all the way back to this side of the pond because I wanted to, Kurt! Rogue insisted. And you don't know that I'm not lying to you, except for the fact that I promised Rogue that I'd answer all of your questions."

Nightcrawler turned to Rogue. "How long have you known?"

"Not even a week. I wasn't even sure what Ah was askin'. But that was the first thing Ah noticed when Ah tangled with you X-Men, was how much ya looked like Mystique, Fuzzy. Ah didn't care enough ta ask then and Ah didn't have much of a chance to once Ah joined ya'll. Believe you me, Kurt, it took me long enough to get it out of her once Ah finally did frame the question." Rogue smiled slightly and stood up. "An' you two ain't nevah gonna talk if Ah'm here ta field questions for ya, Fuzzy." The next sentence was addressed to Mystique. "Gimmie a holler when you two are done." With that, she flew off.

Kurt stared after her, with more than a hint of resentment on his face. Surely she didn't expect he and Mystique to bond over this, no matter how important the revelation.

"This is ridiculous," Mystique snapped. "What does she expect us to do? Bond?"

Kurt stood up, trying not to show that he was discomfited to hear his own thoughts echoed so closely. "Who was my father?" he asked abruptly. One of them had to begin somewhere and this might be the only time he'd ever have to learn anything.

"A German count."

"His name, Raven."

"Why is that so important? He's decades dead, Nightcrawler."

Kurt turned away and sighed, suddenly tired. "You never give a straight answer to anyone, do you?"

"Sorry. Force of habit. It was..." She paused, honestly trying to recall. It had been twenty years, at least. "Michael. Michael Wagner."

"I suppose the fact that you even remember is a point in your favor. How... why did you wait so long to let me know about our... connection?"

"I'm an exploiter, Nightcrawler. You and the rest of the X-Men are my opponents more often than not. If I have information you don't, something to set you off balance, I'm certainly not going to make it public knowledge."

"And you were so loathe to give up your upper hand that it took Rogue to shame you into doing this?"

"You catch on quickly."

"Why bother?" Kurt still had his back to the woman, but had his senses strained to the limit. He was ready to take her out if she took a single step in his direction. "Rogue came back to you of her own will, I'm assuming, and I seriously doubt she would have left again if you'd refused to do this."

Mystique was still staring after Rogue. "You underestimate her, Kurt. She's got a powerful will and a mind of her own. And she felt very strongly that you deserved to have some questions about your past answered."

Kurt finally turned around. "And you didn't."

Mystique's expression remained unreadable. "I'm not doing you any kindness, Nightcrawler. You despise me and the methods I use to achieve my goals. To find out that you're the blue-furred fruit of my loins is certainly less than a thrill to you. Don't you think it would have been better had you been left in ignorance about your past? At least then you could imagine the best."

At a loss for a second, Nightcrawler simply stood there. Why should she care enough to think how this would affect him? "I take it that our first parting was less than pleasant," he finally managed.

"Oh, yes." For the first time since she'd shown herself, Mystique leaned against something for support. It was only a tree, but she still seemed grateful. "Your father died almost a month prior to your birth..."

"Did you love him?"

The question startled Raven, though, after a second's reflection, she supposed it shouldn't have. Knowing whether they were a product of a loving union or merely a by-product of someone's manipulations would have an effect on a person's self-image. And what would one more lie be? A betrayal, for one thing. She'd promised Rogue to tell the truth.

"No," she said, taking no pleasure in the admittance. "He was another means to an end." She took her son's silence as a signal to go on. "He was over-joyed to learn about your conception, if that's any comfort. He was looking forward to having an heir. The idea wasn't exactly repugnant to me either considering that, after your father's untimely demise, I would have been a position to run things until you came of age.

"My plans changed with your actual birth. I was in labor for nearly two days. The doctor and the midwife were preparing for a cesarean by the time you finally decided to show up. Then, they were all for a lynching. " Kurt flinched, but Mystique didn't notice. She was busy trying to hide any reaction that these memories were causing. She hid her hands in the pockets of her jacket, trying to convince herself that they had not been shaking. "They both ran out of the room, leaving me in a less than comfortable state. I knew I didn't have much time before some unpleasantness began, so I tried to make my escape..."

"Leaving me behind," Kurt interrupted.

"No, I took you with me. I suppose that between the blood-loss and pain , I just wasn't thinking clearly. That and my survival instincts had been dulled by several years with nothing to do except play concubine.

"That was a mistake. I might have been able to make it through the court-yard at least if someone hadn't noticed I was carrying you. The mob, mostly servants that had been there for years, caught up with me before I left the front gates. Things got... violent." Unaware of what she was doing, Mystique reached up and rubbed her shoulders. If she concentrated, she could still feel the firebrands and rods striking her skin. "I was exhausted by that point. My powers failed and my true form came out. That didn't do much to calm down the rabble, but it did cause them to back off. It left me an opening for escape and I took it." Raven came up out of her memories with a suppressed shudder and focused her gaze on Kurt's back. "Do you follow all of this so far?"

"Perfectly," came the reply. "Do not stop on my account."

"There was a river on an incline in the woods not so far from the manor . I remember thinking that if I could walk in it for maybe a half-mile, I could throw whomever might follow me off of my trail. More short- sightedness on my part. It was spring. The river was fat with melted snow that had run down from the hills, and I couldn't ford it. Not as weak as I was and carrying a baby. So I ran along it, hoping for a place to cross, and making my trail pathetically easy to follow.

"I could see the mob's torches through the trees by the time I hit the end of the line. The river spilled over a waterfall. There was no way I could have crossed there, either. I would have been swept over the edge. My choices were clear. I could die with my son, the cause of all of this trouble, held to my breast..." Mystique had imagined that it would be easy, perhaps even therapeutic in a way, to get all of this old history off of her chest. But she suddenly found herself reluctant... yes, ashamed... to admit what she had done. But this would not be the hardest thing she'd ever had to do in her life... just as long as she didn't look at Nightcrawler while she said it. "Or I could sacrifice the child to save my own skin."

"And let me guess which one you did." Nightcrawler's words were soft snarls.

"It was stupidly simple, actually. I shifted my form and clothing to that of a peasant farmer and waited. As they came into view, I claimed that I had thrown the tainted woman onto the rocks below the falls. I tried to hide you, Kurt..." Her voice wavered, but only for a second, "but they saw what I was holding. When they started talking about the torturous deaths that you could be put to, I simply said that you deserved the same fate as the woman who spawned you and threw you over the side. Then I went off my own way as the mob broke up. That's the end ."

"Did you even try to find me afterwards?" Still refusing to look at the woman who claimed to be his mother, Kurt instead looked straight up, blinking hard. Whether he was looking for divine explanation or simply a neutral view, he couldn't have said. "Did you stop for a second and wonder if I had survived?"

"There was no reason to believe that you had."

"Was there? Or did your guilt simply convince you that there wasn't?"

"My motives don't matter," Raven countered. "All that matters is the end result."

"Yes... I wound up in a family much more loving than anything you ever could have provided me with." The younger mutant's tone and voice became caustic as he finally turned to face her. "Yes, perhaps I owe you a vote of thanks. My undying gratitude, Mutti, for throwing me away."

"I don't expect a thing from you. As I've already said, I didn't do this for you. I did it for Rogue. Speaking of which..." Mystique clicked the small homing beacon in her pocket, "I do believe that this conversation is finished."

"One more thing before you leave. Do I have any brothers? Any sisters?"

Raven sucked in a sharp breath. The ONE question she'd hoped wouldn't come up, had. She couldn't tell the entire truth on this one. Rogue didn't even know about it. "One brother," she said. "But he died a long time ago."

"Another accident with a waterfall?"

"Save your sarcasm, Kurt. He was always a weakling. I didn't expect him to last long." Damn it, where was the girl?

"His name?"

Graydon. Creed. Son of Victor Creed and "Leni Zauber". Faces and names she would much rather forget. "I don't recall."

Before Kurt could respond, Rogue landed gracefully between the two of them. The two faces before her let her know that yes, things had been discussed and that there probably wasn't much she could say about anything. "Need a lift anywhere, Fuzzy?"

"Braddock Manor." He turned to Mystique for a moment, but couldn't think of a single thing to say. He finally decided on "Good-bye."

Raven Darkholme remained silent and stayed so as Rogue took off with Nightcrawler in her arms. "I'm sorry." she whispered, letting a pair of tears trace their way down her dark blue skin. Then she shook off her weakness and waited for Rogue to return, refusing to indulge in past regrets any further.

"So where have YOU been all night?" Rachel Summers, in street clothes, walked into Excalibur's living room be greeted by four heads (one dragon and three humans) swiveling around to follow her motion.

"What is this? A formal inquiry? Oh, hi, Pete." The fiery telepath didn't have to ask what Pete was doing there. Kitty had already filled her in with a rush of jumbled thoughts. Wisdom, for his part, just waved , mildly surprised that he wasn't coming under verbal fire.

"Yes. You know we're all starving for gossip." Keesha grinned, her white teeth a sharp contrast against her dark red skin.

"For your information, I was helping Alysande out of her shell, remember?" Rachel tried, but she couldn't quite hide the smile on her face.

"Not for this long you weren't," joined in Kitty. "More. We must have more!"

"All right. I had a date."

"Oh." Pete lost interest once more and returned to watching Tommy Lee Jones shoot people on the screen and slipped an arm around Kitty's shoulders. Shadowcat and Keesha pretended to.

You had a date and you didn't tell me?! Kitty's stunned thoughts followed Rachel up the stairs.

You had a date and you didn't tell me. Rachel returned, giving Kitty only part of her attention as she shielded against a wave of cold, confused misery from Meggan. Brian was gone to Courtney's again, leaving Meggan alone... and very scared. What worried Rachel more was the fact that Meggan's thoughts weren't leaping out at her.

Meggan was an open and trusting soul, who had almost no practice in shielding her thoughts from others. Her mind usually stood out like a bonfire on a dark night, but not now. Something was making the child- like empath hide away her thoughts.

'So weird...' Rachel thought, entering her room. 'It's always a pain to block out Meggan's thoughts all the time. Now that I don't have to, I'm really starting to worry...'

I was GOING to, but you took off! Who was it with? Where'd you go? demanded Kitty, with Keesha's thoughts hovering just behind hers.

Thomas Jones. Anticipating the string of questions to come, Rachel rolled out answers. We ate dinner at his house. With his mother. And you know what? I didn't use my telepathy the entire night! I had to actually guess what was going to be said and I had a great time and his Mom is a wonderful cook and we had pasta and Tom and I are going to the art gallery next week. Silence. Kitty?

Why is it that when YOU set out to have a quiet evening, it always seems to work out?

Fate and nothing but. Rachel concluded, stretching out on her bed and hugging a pillow. So this was what she had been missing out on in Westchester by hiding behind the walls of the mansion. A social life. And she liked it.

"Why did you insist on this?" Rogue and Nightcrawler were standing on the front steps of Braddock Manor again, preparing to go their separate ways.

"Ah... Ah guess I was tryin' ta do ya a favor. Ya were one of the first of the team ta actually accept me, Fuzzy. Meant a lot when someone would turn mah way without lookin' like they wanted ta spit in mah face." She sighed. "Sorry it turned out like it did."

"Really? What did you expect?" Kurt paced a few steps, trying to keep his tail from lashing. "Surely not reconciliation. Not once the truth came out."

"Ah didn't know what ta expect. But Ah did know that ya had a lot of questions about your folks that no one seemed ta have the answers to. Just figured ya might wanna know what the truth was." She shifted from one foot to the other. "Ah better go get Raven. We're due back home soon ."

Kurt looked into the face of his former team-mate. Assuming that Mystique could be believed, Rogue had gotten more caring from his mother than he could ever hope for, but he didn't envy her. Not at all. "All right." On impulse, he leaned forward and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. "You walk a fine line, mein freund. Please be careful."

Rogue grinned and wrapped him up in a bear hug. "Same ta you, Fuzzy. An' tell Amanda Ah'm really sorry about, ya know, slippin' her a mickey an' all." Her smile widened a bit before she flew away. Kurt turned and went inside long before she was out of sight.

Amanda's voice floated out from the sitting room. "Is someone there?"

Nightcrawler shoved his concerns aside as he walked towards the room."Just me," he called. He managed a slight smile as he entered. "How are yo-" He stopped short as he beheld Amanda tying off the end of floor- length braid.

"Don't ask because I don't know," she started. "And what am I... hey, what's wrong?"

"I'll tell you later. How are you feeling?"

"The extra ten pounds of hair aside? Fine. Better than fine. Really energetic. How else do you think I managed to wrestle this thing into a braid?"

Kurt lifted a length of the braid. "I don't think it's quite ten pounds ." The joke fell flat.

"I think I'm ready to get back to the lighthouse." sighed Amanda, letting him keep a grip on her hair. "Explanations can wait until morning."

"I was thinking we could stay here. They must have a dozen guest rooms."

"NO! No, Kurt, I really don't think that would be a good idea. Let's just leave, please, OK? I can teleport both of us."

"Are you sure? You've had a rough night."

'Not as rough as yours, by that face.' But Amanda didn't voice her thoughts aloud.

"Positive. Look, I'm sorry to be so pushy, but I woke up here with enough extra hair to hang myself with. It's creepy and I don't want to stay here. Please?"

"Certainly. I didn't mean that we had to stay. Let's go." He helped her to her feet, with an impish grin. "Shall I carry your hair?"

Amanda made a face at him, playing along with his forced humor. She was willing to be distracted for the time being, for she had a few things on her mind as well (like how to fix the rope growing out of her head!), but she'd be damned if she wasn't going to get an explanation for this night sooner or later.

*Bleep!* "They're baaaa-aaaack!"

Keesha covered her ears and chucked a pillow at Widget, who floated off in the opposite direction. "Someone needs to turn down the volume on that thing."

"Well, at least we have some advance warning." Pete blew a lungfull of smoke out into the room. "This is the part where I get phased down into the next level before the furry guardian of your honor sees I'm here, then?"

Kitty gave Pete's hand a squeeze. "You don't get phased anywhere. I invited you, you're a guest. I can handle Kurt, don't you worry."

As if on cue, Kurt walked in, supporting Amanda.

"I thought you said you felt fine," he murmured to her, his voice slightly reproachful.

"I do!" she insisted, standing up straighter. "I just had a moment of vertigo, that's all. I'm fine now."

"Amanda, what happened to your hair?!" Keesha exclaimed, breaking up their conversation.

"I walked through a door!" called the sorceresses over her shoulder, as she headed towards the basement.

Kurt's attention suddenly focused on Pete. "Herr Wisdom. To what do we owe the honor of your company, especially at this late hour?"

"I asked him over, Fuzzy Elf. Seemed the least I could do after he saved my life." Pete, Lockheed, and Nightcrawler all shot incredulous looks at Kitty, while Keesha, who'd already heard the story, bit her knuckles to keep from laughing. Kitty delivered a neatly tailored story of her night out with Pete, ending with Pete kicking Deadpool's tail all over the restaurant, reminding herself that she was only returning a favor that Pete had done for her.

"Oh." Kurt gave Pete a dubious look, but didn't question Kitty's story. "Am I to assume that Rachel will be transporting him back?"

Pete finally spoke up, having gotten over his shock at Kitty's tale. "Naw. I've got a ride. So long as Kitty's willin' t'boat me back t'the beach, I'm fine."

"Guten Abend, then. I shall speak to you in the morning, Katzchen."

"Sure thing, Nightcrawler." Kitty couldn't help but feel irritated and that irritation erased any guilt she might have felt for telling her less than 100% accurate story. Why was it OK for Amanda and Kurt to have a relationship under this roof, while she was going to get a dressing down just for inviting someone over? 'I like Pete. I don't know yet if it's as a friend or what, but I do and I'm not ashamed of it,' she thought defiantly. 'And if Kurt has a problem with that, he'll just have to live with it.'

"That was the biggest pile of bullshit I've heard in months, Pryde!" Wisdom chortled. "I didn't think you had it in ya."

"Well, it wasn't total BS." Kitty protested.

"Oh? How d'ya figure that?"

"You distracted him for me. Now watch the movie."

Kurt sank down on his bed, formal jacket in one hand. The room was dim, lit only by his table-lamp. At least he knew why his foster-mother Margali had decided that his last name should be "Wagner" and not "Szardos". The news of Raven's banishment and her freakish son had probably been all over the country side. The connection mustn't have been hard to make. He had answers to questions he'd been asking himself for as long as he could remember. Now he had new questions.

Were any of his family still alive? He had his father's name, he could start from there. But would it be worth it? He seriously doubted that any relations he did have would be exactly thrilled to find out that they had a "demon" in their family tree. The idea of being rejected by people he shared blood with wasn't one he wanted to entertain. And what of this mysterious and supposedly dead half-brother?

It was all just too much to absorb in one night. He needed sleep and time to think over what he should do...

"Kurt?" He looked up to see Amanda standing in his doorway. She had on an over-sized Garfield T-shirt by way of night-time attire. Apparently she'd gotten tired of dragging her new braid around on the floor, for it was tied around her waist as a loose-fitting belt. "Need an ear to bend?"

Kurt looked up, feeling exhaustion tugging at his mind and body. "Not especially, though I would welcome your company." Amanda didn't wait for a second invitation and was sitting next to him in an instant. He had to smile. With her hair pulled away from her face, Amanda looked much younger. It brought back pleasant memories to counter the revelations clamoring for attention in his mind. Without really thinking about it, he'd pulled her into an embrace.

Amanda returned it. "Think maybe you can talk to me about it later?"

"Yes. Almost certainly later... but for now, I'd rather sleep on it." He got up, retrieved his pajamas, and started for the door. Halfway there, he paused. "Will you still be here when I get back?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Kurt. Don't worry about it."

Nightcrawler nodded and left the room. He felt a little silly for it, but he'd suddenly needed the reassurance that she'd still be there for him when he returned. Perhaps one day he would try to trace down what there was of his family, but for now he had Amanda and he had Excalibur and they were far more important than a past he'd had no knowledge of until a short time ago. He stepped into the bathroom and got ready for bed.

Next issue: Oh, rapturous day! It's house-cleaning time ladies and gents , and we're tossing out all of the useless baggage in this series, emotional, historical, and otherwise. So it's good-bye Brian and Kitty gives a dangler from her past the old heave-ho! See ya for #48!