X-MEN ETERNITY

Uncanny X-Men #3: "Girls' Night Out"
Rated PG-13 for violence and language

by R. John Burke
X-Men Eternity Message Board: http://solofan.proboards76.com/index.cgi

DISCLAIMER: The X-Men are a copyright of Marvel Comics. I don't own them, but this is only non-profit fan fiction. No money is involved and no infringement is intended.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: X-Men Eternity started with the events at the end of "House of M" and went in a different direction. Nothing that happened after that is cannon for our purposes, and in fact a few things have changed. Most importantly, the majority of the X-Men have been scattered through space and time.

"Uncanny X-Men" is the series dealing with those left behind.

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

Welcome to a family reunion.

It's not your typical family, unless of course your idea of "typical" consists of five identical teenage girls with the rather unorthodox name of Cuckoo, with blonde hair, strange eyes, and a tendency to finish each other's sentences, meeting on the psychic plane, in the dark space between Universes. Then you'd have to include the fact that, the last time they met in person, one of these girls kind of accidentally on purpose killed one of the others.

Well, as they say, you can choose your friends, but...

The entire meeting took place in milliseconds on the physical plane, and for Phoebe Cuckoo, was very much like sitting in a semicircle, in invisible chairs, in a room with all-black walls, ceiling, and floor. Images and glimpses of feeling were exchanged as often as actual words, but if asked to transcribe the meeting into notes that could be understood by one outside the group mind, this is what she would have written:

"Mr. Cassidy is going to help us," said Mindee, the sister trapped in the past of Reality 225, an alternate Camelot. "I've explained to him how the Phoenix and the Scarlet Witch shattered everything the last time they fought (* Uncanny #1) and can't ever be allowed to meet again."

"Until the proper time," said Sophie, their leader, who was in the 19^th Century of Reality 915.

"Of course."

"Are you so sure there *is* a proper time?" asked Esme, from the future timeline of Reality 502. The other girls glared at her-- they all understood that the entire Five-in-One was needed now, but none of them particularly liked Esme.

"It will come," said Sophie.

"What if it's here already?" asked Phoebe.

"Not yet."

Phoebe, who was stuck in the boring old present, home of radioactive spiders and green giants you shouldn't make angry, said, "That was quick thinking, Mindee, having Miss Grey reveal herself to Miss Frost. (* eXcalibur #1) Emma will be ever so much easier to control now. She's so busy pretending she doesn't feel guilty, she's hardly paying attention, and she *acts* so guilty, the others wouldn't believe her if she did."

"I didn't do anything," said Mindee. "Miss Grey thought of that on her own."

"She did us a favor," said three of the other girls.

"If you'd call it that," said Esme, the lone dissenter. "Why don't we just tell them everything? We're not superheroes. Let them deal with it."

The others glared at her again.

"You be quiet, Esme," said Mindee.

"You're less than nothing," said Celeste.

"You hurt us," added Phoebe.

"You *killed* me," said Sophie.

Esme smirked. "Apparently you can't take a joke."

"Just keep to the plan," Sophie told her.

"Stupid plan," said Esme, sulking like any teenager. "Who says the Professor knew what he was talking about, anyway?"

"Esme!" said Phoebe. "Don't mention the Professor again!"

"Never *ever*!" said Celeste.

"We promised!" said Mindee.

"Stop asking silly questions and do your part," said Sophie. "You've got to keep an eye on Rachel."

"She's dangerous," added Celeste.

"Hardly, darlings." If the meeting had been in the physical world, Esme might have stood up to stretch her limbs. "She's a stuck-up little princess, whining for her mommy. I can handle Rachel. All of you just handle yours."

"Mindee's the key," said Sophie. "Miss Grey's more dangerous than the rest of them put together."

"I know," said Mindee doubtfully. "I'll do my best."

"You won't have to do it alone," said Sophie.

"Call on us anytime," Phoebe said.

"We're always with you," added Celeste.

"Even unto death," said Esme, and the others frowned. Feigning ignorance, she said, "What? Was there anymore business?"

"I'm worried about Betsy," said Celeste, who was in the mid-20^th Century of Reality 758. "She's smart."

"If she gets her psi back, she'll be a threat," said Phoebe.

"She's not getting her psi back," said Esme with a sneer. "I'd worry about the other one, if I were Celeste."

"But you're not," said the other. "He can't hurt us."

Sophie said, "I did that myself. He's bound up tight in his strings."

"Hmph! Clever you." Then Esme brightened. "It's fun, though, isn't it? The power. We could do so much more, girls, than just carry out this silly plan..."

"We could take over your brain and make you kiss something nasty," said Mindee.

"Like a toad," said Phoebe.

"Or a snake," said Celeste.

"Or the Blob," said Sophie.

"Ooh!" said the other three, amused.

"Fine!" said Esme, turning from the others. "Don't listen to me! Just remember this: When he comes to kill us..."

"That won't happen," said Sophie.

"When it does, remember I told you so." Esme arched an eyebrow. "You all think you're so smart. If we're the ones who can stop him, we're the ones he'll kill first. That's only logical."

"Did you learn that from Magneto?" asked Sophie, while the other girl stewed. Esme never liked to be reminded of her infatuation with the supposed Master of Magnetism that had resulted in her own death.

"What I learned from Magneto is this," she said. "When the really bad guys come? It's better to be on their side than in their way. Think about that for next time."

She cut herself off from the group mind. The other four girls remained for a moment, but none of them really had anything else to say. They broke up the reunion, and the blackness around Phoebe seemed to dissolve, a piece at a time...

"Phoebe? Hey, Earth to Phoebe!"

Phoebe blinked. Hisako Ichiki, one of her fellow students at the Xavier Institute, was suddenly sitting beside her in a room of the Xavier Institute. She was clearly expecting a response of some kind.

"Um... sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was just griping about the new self-defense teacher." Hisako pointed to her eyes, frowning. "You were doing your, um, telepathic thing. Everything okay?"

"Fine," said Phoebe, forcing a smile. "Of course, everything's fine."

The other girl looked at her a little strangely; but then, Phoebe was used to that.

****

BLINK.

SPLASH!

After a moment of initial shock, Jubilation Lee settled down to the serious business of being mortified. She coughed and spluttered and splashed water in the direction of her partner in superheroing, Clarice Ferguson, AKA Blink.

“When I said (*last ish) that you'd probably 'ported somebody into Lake Michigan, that wasn't a *suggestion!*”

Clarice spat out a mouthful of water. “Oh, relax. You wear a raincoat.”

“Funny...”

“Besides,” said the other young woman, “we're not in the Lake, just a water fountain.”

Jubilee rubbed her stinging eyes. Darned if she wasn't kicking around in an ornate water fountain outside a luxury hotel, probably not far from where she and Clarice had confronted Mystique (* also last ish). Pedestrians nearby were already gawking.

“That's even WORSE!” Jubilee cried. “Now I can never come to Chicago again! I may seriously die of embarrassment.”

“Would you rather be dead?” Clarice asked, pulling herself out and shaking off as best she could. “I had like three-tenths of a second to decide on a place to 'port us.”

“And you decided to ruin me socially?”

“Just c'mon.”

The lilac-skinned Exile offered her hand; reluctantly, Jubilee climbed out. People around her kept staring; Jubilee turned up her nose and pretended she swam in fountains nightly. Ultimate cool was all in the mind.

“How do you want to handle this?” Blink asked. “I could take us back to the mansion, we'll retrieve the team..."

“You're kidding!” said Jubilee. “And lose Mystique? By the time we get back, she could be anybody!”

“Here's a bulletin for you: She could *already* be anybody!”

“But right now, at least, we know what she's looking for. So we know where she'll go.”

Clarice put her hands on her hips. “Yeah? Like where?”

“There!” Jubilee pointed.

A few blocks away, a minor traffic jam was in progress, cars honking their horns and people shouting... at an oversized, almost reptilian mutant and her pint-sized friend, who were running from the scene. Jubilee and Blink had been on the trail of those two mutants (*yet again last issue), and apparently, so was Mystique.

Jubilee arched a significant eyebrow. “We follow them. Mystique follows them. We find Mystique.”

Clarice nodded. “What do you propose doing with her when we find her?”

“We figure out who she's working for. Why she's targeting these mutants and the X-Men.”

“...until she opens fire.” The lilac girl sighed. “Didn't Weapon X teach you anything about picking fights with lethal mutants? Or even garden-variety caution?”

“Nope. And don't pretend Sabretooth taught *you* anything like that, either. We can totally do this.”

“We're *way* past recon,” Clarice said. “Cyclops ordered us..."

“You always do what you're told?”

“Hardly ever. But I've learned to do my job.” She peered at Jubilee. “What's in this for you? Proving you're in the big leagues? To get on some 'list?' Do you think that matters?”

Jubilee set her jaw. “She's taking down X-Men. I go way back with those people. That matters to me. Wolvie matters to me, an' Paige an' Jono, and a lot of my friends. For all we know, whoever hired Mystique's behind this whole thing. If she can help us get them back... that *matters*, dammit.”

Clarice hesitated. “That's a longshot.”

“I know.”

“She's been ahead of us every step of the way, so far.”

“I know. So it's time we gained some ground.”

The mutant called Blink drew a javelin from her quiver and almost... *almost *smiled. “Point taken. She's going down.”

****

Josh Foley, the mutant healer called Elixir, released Jean-Paul Beaubier-- Northstar-- and stepped back.

“Do me a favor,” said the healer, looking dazed, “stop hanging out with Sabretooth. That guy drums up more business than I can handle.”

Jean-Paul tested his shoulder-- recently ripped to shreds by the feral mutant's claws (* UXM #2), now feeling fit to be rotated experimentally. Jean-Paul winced, but it really didn't hurt. Although the boy might have been untested, he did fine work.

“My young friend,” Jean-Paul said to him, “I assure you it's not an association I intend to pursue any further than necessary. As a matter of fact...”

He cocked an eye toward the outside corridor, where their latest team leader was about to receive his inaugural dressing-down. Jean-Paul felt rather sorry for him, as he'd really done everything he could. Hopefully Scott would take that into consideration, and...

Jean-Paul arched an eyebrow. Bobby Drake was propped up on a stool, leaning against the wall... waiting for Scott, all right. Fast asleep.

"Heh," said Northstar, easing himself off the cot where he'd been healed. Perhaps a bit of a dressing-down was appropriate after all. Bobby had been fretting over his failure back on on the jet, enough that Jean-Paul had worried about him, but if he could sleep the sleep of the innocents so soon after an embarrassing first mission...

*Yes,* Jean-Paul decided. *Cyclops had -better- chew him out, or I'll do it myself.*

****

"You are going to KILL ME, but I will kill you first!"

Bobby Drake heard those words very clearly in his dream, just as he'd heard them on the field in Mexico. (*Last issue) Then, as now, they'd come from a big mutant called Savant with the strength to pound solid walls into dust. In his dream, Bobby saw the result of that strength used on his teammate, James Proudstar-- Warpath. The new X-Man used his unearthly strength right back, and finally they lay together, eyes staring blankly at each other, hands locked around each other's throats.

They were not alone. A little distance away, two other figures lay on the same ground. They'd hacked each other to bits as usual,but this time the fires raging all around had burned what was left of them to cinders. Only the leftover adamantium skeleton told Bobby they had been Wolverine and Sabretooth.

Scott was there, too-- somehow his power had gone berserk as he'd always feared, killing those around him, among them Emma Frost, whose broken body he cradled in his arms. She'd never turned to her diamond form; she'd never seen the attack coming. Scott roared-- Bobby had never seen him like this. For once, the leader of the X-Men wasn't holding back even a little bit-- his optic beams blasted so strongly that Bobby had to shield his eyes. He was out for blood from... something, Bobby couldn't see it from the doorway where he'd taken shelter.

Something laughed, and Scott never came back.

Bobby scanned the field: Who was left? He saw bodies, thought he recognized Gambit and Bishop, Colossus and the Beast, Northstar and his sister Aurora, Mystique and the mutant called Metralla whom he'd fought in Mexico. All dead. Worst of all, Alex and Lorna-- Havok and Polaris-- lay only a few feet away. Bobby hadn't been there, hadn't been able to save her, but... how could he have? Alex had been eviscerated by a thousand shards of metal. Lorna's whole torso was charred and blackened. Had they killed each other? That didn't make any sense...

"What are we going to do?" said a voice behind him. Bobby turned--

Jubilation Lee stood with him, but not *his* Jubilee-- she couldn't be. She was older by a few years, a woman in her prime. Whoever she was, she had tears streaming down her face and her fireworks flashing around her, as though she couldn't wait to unleash them against the enemy.

Bobby couldn't allow that. He *knew* he couldn't, the way you sometimes know things in dreams without understanding why you know them. He looked down at his hands, now clenched into fists... his ice form, but different. He... flowed, almost like he reshaped his whole body with every movement. That was a trick he hadn't mastered yet...

"You know what to do," he told her. "You're going to run. I'm going to fight."

Jubilee's eyes widened. "But... I mean... can you win?"

"I don't think so," Bobby heard himself say. "But there's nobody else."

"Then let's go out together. Come on-- you and me, right, Sundance?"

"Jubes, no. Don't make this harder."

"Okay, fine, you can be Butch. But--"

"There's no time," Bobby said. He leaned in and quickly kissed her, surprising them both. "'You are going to kill me, but I will kill you first.' Exactly those words, Jubilation, remember... it's important."

"Okay. I will."

Something crossed his mind, a line he'd heard Nightcrawler recite, a long time ago: *The fire of God hath fallen from Heaven... and I only have escaped alone to tell thee.* Kurt would have appreciated that, before...

"Go now!" he said, and turned to the door. He knew from the way he was standing that he could see the thing that had killed Scott, but he couldn't get a picture of it in his mind. The dream was blank there, as if his own mind wouldn't let him... was *afraid* to let him see...

"All right," said Bobby, stepping outside the door. "I guess I put this off as long as I could. You got 'em, didn't you? All the ones you wanted, except me. Well, here I am, pal. I know I have your undivided attention. No games, no jokes. Just me. Do you hear me, huh? If you think it'll be that easy, then come on and get me! HERE I AM!!!"

The same voice that had laughed at Scott laughed at him. Unbelievably, Bobby Drake laughed with it. The fires rages around him, and as before, he became a storm to douse the flames...

And then he woke up.

Bobby took a couple of deep breaths, wiped a streamer of drool off his lip. Only a dream, though it had been... intense. Bobby didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Then he saw Scott Summers looming over him, and knew crying was the way to go.

"Hey, Cyke," he said. "I guess the mission took more out of me than I thought."

"I guess so," said Scott, glowering through his visor. "If you have a minute... you know, and you're through with naptime... I'd like to see you in my office."

"Sure thing." Bobby hesitated. "Uh... I bet we're going to talk about Mexico, aren't we?"

"Oh, yes," said Scott. "We're going to talk about Mexico."

****

The woman called Mystique was on the hunt.

It was not the best hunt she'd ever had-- the periodic trail of green ichor being bled by one of her targets made it child's play to follow her, and the pair of junior X-Men in the mix were not Mystique's idea of serious competition. But it was action, and she was a woman who lived her life constantly in the action.

Up ahead, she saw the flashing lights of several police cars, their drivers packed in a knot at the corner where the pair of mutant fugitive who'd just been sighted. Mystique smiled as she came into earshot...

"Muties," one of the cops was saying, "I tell ya. I didn't mind so much when they mostly kept to New York. They'd just pop up other places once in a while, y'know, to save the world from Magneto or the Adversary. That was cool. But now we got a world full of 'em."

"Magneto *is* a mutie, genius," said another one. "Ask me, they're all alike."

"That's not very enlightened of you, Sergeant," said a newcomer, a portly man with a lieutenant's badge. "We just got words these perps have doubled back to the south. I want you to take your men down there and set up a roadblock. I'll hold the fort here 'till backup arrives."

"Wait, but..."

"Go!" said the lieutenant, jerking his thumb. The officers shrugged, got into their patrol cars, and drove south.

The lieutenant smiled as he watched them go. Then he morphed back into Mystique. Too easy.

She spied another drop of green on the sidewalk, leading up the steps of an old apartment building. Mystique drew a pistol and turned to follow...

BLINK! She wasn't holding a pistol anymore. She fell into a defensive stance as she whirled--

PAF! Something burst right in her face, dazzling Mystique's eyes. She started to fall--

A sharp pain in the small of her back-- someone had landed a devastating kick-- and Mystique fell on her face.

She was already rolling when she landed. Her vision beginning to return, although she still saw spots before her eyes, she pulled a knife from her sleeve and threw it at the closest target, that odd purple mutant who'd been hanging out at the Mansion...

BLINK and the purple girl vanished. Another BLINK and she landed on top of Mystique, pummeling her two-fisted. Mystique grabbed her leg and threw her off, looking around for the other one.

PAF! The ground at Mystique's feet exploded, throwing her off-balance. She turned it into a dive, knocking the legs out from under Jubilation Lee... they tangled together...

"Enough!" snapped the purple one, who knocked Mystique down and pressed a javelin to her throat...

Unfortunately it was Jubilee's throat, and so was the rest of her. In the tangle, Mystique had morphed into the spitting image of the X-youth. The purple girl sat between the two of them with a javelin in each hand.

"Well," said she, "this will be interesting."

****

"What I find hard to believe," Scott said, leaning over his desk, "is that these two relatively low-grade mutants got away after you admit their best shot didn't phase you..." (*last issue)

"There were complications," Bobby said. "Like Sabretooth. And the woman threatening to kill people. Did I mention Sabretooth?"

"So you're saying you caused collateral damage *and* brought home nothing to show for it?"

"I don't know!" Bobby pounded the desk. "Look, Scott, you weren't there! It was a tough call!"

"Which you were so upset about, you came home and went to sleep..."

He jumped out of his chair. "I'm sorry, Mr. Summers, have *you* ever turned into sentient vapor? If you haven't, maybe you shouldn't draw any conclusions!"

"C'mon, Bobby, it wasn't the stunt you pulled!" Scott got up into his face. "You're not *tired*. You're *hiding*. You're so determined not to care, and you *know* I need you!"

"Yeah, I know that! Which is the only reason I'm not out the freaking door yet!"

He took a deep breath. Scott stared at him, implacable as ever behind the visor. Bobby laughed and turned away.

"I did what you would have done, Scott," he said. "I did *better* than you would have done. You would have died. What I did there, *only* I could have done. And that--"

"Scares you."

Bobby nodded. "Hell, yeah. Must have spooked my subconscious, too, 'cause now I'm dreaming about it."

Scott arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah. Dreamed about the mission. Had a big fight. Used some cool powers. And I kissed Jubilee."

"Ahem!" Scott coughed into his fist. "That... might have been too much information."

"No, no, she was our age. It was... the future..."

"That's good to know." A pause. "And you're telling me it because...?"

Bobby shrugged. "I dunno. Seemed very real. Scott... you've seen all my files, right? I don't have any... secondary mutations, or..."

"You already had one," Scott reminded him. "This would be a tertiary mutation, and that's just showing off."

"Still. I'm not... like, telepathic, right? Please tell me I'm not telepathic, or a precog. That would suck."

Scott stroked his chin. "Well... a man who, as you pointed out, can be sentient vapor... he must have *something* going on... but active psi potential? Nothing like that, not that I ever heard of."

Bobby breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay. Cool. Just a dream, then. To be safe, though, maybe Emma should scan me or..."

"When she gets around to it." Scott's lip twitched. He didn't think Bobby had noticed. He had.

"I *wondered* what flew up your... I mean, what set you on edge." Bobby sat on the edge of his desk. "More trouble with Emma?"

"Nothing I can't handle." Scott looked up. "Get out of my office. And get some sleep-- no more dozing off before debriefings."

"Yes, Mom. I'll get a full eight hours." Bobby arched an eyebrow. "Seriously, though... if you want to talk..."

Scott glared at him. "In what way do I remind you of a man who wants to talk? Tell me how, because I'm trying my best to give the opposite impression."

"Okay, fine, I'll beat it." Bobby started to go, but paused. "When Emma has the chance..."

"I'll tell her," Scott promised. "And Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

"I looked over the tactical situation before you got back. You made the right decision."

"Was that actually a compliment?" Bobby allowed some ice to thaw and drip on the floor. "Compliments from Scott Summers! I'm MELTING! Meltinnnnng...arrrrgh..."

"Get out!" Scott said, and he left.

The joke almost made him feel better, even, except the melting ice reminded him of his flowing form in the dream, and that in turn reminded him of... worse stuff. Trouble with Emma? How would Scott feel if, somehow, that scenario were to come true and he killed her?

On the spot, Bobby Drake resolved that he would never find out. Whatever it cost.

****

"I am totally offended that you can't tell me from some shape-shifting floozy!" said the girl on the right, whom Clarice Ferguson had come to think of as Jubilee #2.

"Yeah, *right*! Like you're gonna fool her by dissing yourself, Mystique!" said Jubilee #1, on the left. "C'mon, Clarice, after all the training time we've spent together..."

"You know about that?" Clarice asked, her aim shifting slightly.

"Anyone could!" Jubilee #2 protested. "Duh, she's a *shape-shifter!* For all you know, she's been me before!"

"Don't try to confuse her!" said Jubilee #1. "The real Mystique has better things to do than pose as me and hang out with purple peeps! And um, by the way, you shouldn't take either the self-deprecation or the kinda left-handed insult there as a good reason to blink me. 'Cause I'm not evil, just mega-frustrated, honest!"

Clarice sighed. "You an' me both."

"This mission has totally jumped the shark," said Jubilee #1.

"I hear you," said Jubilee #2.

"Okay," said Clarice, "here's what we're going to do..."

"You know what you should do?" Jubilee #2 interrupted. "You should take us both back to the mansion. Emma can find out which is which!"

"Puh-leeeze!" said Jubes #1. "Don't you get it? She's trying to appear all unselfish when she actually *wants* us to take her back to the mansion!"

"Why would Mystique want that?" Jubilee #2 challenged.

"For some purpose! Some *nefarious* purpose!"

"See? Totally not me," said Jubes #2. "I don't use dumb words like 'nefarious.'"

Jubes #1 said, "You need to keep us both *right here* until you know the score. Maybe you can knock us out, or..."

"Will you both just SHUT UP?" Clarice demanded, and they did. She tried to ignore the pounding in her temples long enough to think straight. Just then, the light came on.

"Soooo..." she said. "We watched a movie just before we came here." (* last issue)

"Lord of the Rings!" said Jubilee #2.

"No way!" said Jubilee #1. "Somehow she found out my favorite movies!"

"Shut UP," said Clarice, gesturing with the javelins. Both Jubilees looked put out. Neither made a threatening move. "What I'm getting at is, the real Jubilee... and *only* the real Jubilee... knows which Hobbit I like best."

"What?" said Jubes #2.

"All of them!" said Jubes #1 brightly.

"Crap," said #2, just before Clarice decked her. She morphed back into Mystique.

"Nice," said Clarice. "See, *now* I'll know the fake you is the one with the bloody nose."

"Took you long enough," said the real Jubilee, climbing to her feet.

"My nose won't be the only thing that's bloody if you don't let me go, girl," said Mystique. "Didn't anyone ever teach you to respect your elders?"

"That wasn't high on Mr. Creed's priority list, no." While she spoke, Clarice shifted position and crossed both her javelins under Mystique's throat. "Let me explain something to you, Miss Darkholme: Don't let the pretty color and the cutesy code name fool you. I have been places you can't imagine and done things that would make even *you* soil yourself. I can also focus my teleportation through these nifty javelins, and let me just say, I am completely prepared to use them to blink your head to Boston and your torso to San Francisco." She paused for a moment to let that sink in. "I really don't appreciate people trying to con me."

"Noted," said Mystique stiffly. "You *should* let me go, though."

"Why, so you can gut more of our friends?"

Mystique jerked her chin, indicating something behind Blink. "So I can gut her before she kills anyone."

"Huh--"

"Whoa!" said Jubilee at almost the same moment. "Bad news incoming!"

Their two targets had reappeared on the steps of a nearby building. The hulking female charged straight for Jubilee, while the frenetic male turned a somersault in midair and landed on Blink's shoulders, pulling her hair.

"Take that! And that! And more of that! And--"

"OFF!" Clarice snarled, backhanding him to the ground.

Jubilee had somewhat bigger problems. She had, after all, been the one to damage the female mutant with a concentrated burst of fireworks. The lady appeared to be holding a grudge. She seized Jubilee by the throat and tossed her through the air. She'd break her skull when she landed--

"GOT you!" said Clarice, throwing a javelin--

BLINK and Jubilee reappeared right in front of Clarice, still traveling at speed, but in position for Clarice to break her fall. They hit the ground together in a jumble of arms and legs.

"Ow," said Jubilee when they stopped rolling. "And thanks. But ow."

Clarice was too stunned to come up with words-- in fact, she seemed to be seeing double. Either that, or Mystique had turned herself into Jubilee again, and why would she do that? Unless... those new mutants had probably been looking at Blink and Jubilee when they arrived. If they hadn't gotten a good look at Mystique, if they hadn't seen her shift, then...

The faux Jubilee caught the little mutant by the scruff of the neck. "Hold onto Mystique, Clarice! I'll teach these losers not to cross the X-Men!"

"Aw," said Clarice, "damn..."

"It won't work," the real Jubilee murmured. "She only *looks* like me. To duplicate my fireworks, she'd need some kind of..."

"GRENADE!" Clarice shouted, covering the other girl with her own body, even as the boom occurred.

It didn't sound like PAF-- not remotely. On the other hand, Jubilee's bigger explosions weren't exactly "cute," and these folks probably weren't expert aficionados of X-Men sound effects.

Anyway, it rocked Clarice's world. She was stunned by the shock wave for a moment, and when she snapped back to reality, it was thanks to a swift kick in the stomach from Mystique.

"You're good, girl, but you haven't learned to stay a step ahead. That'll come in time."

"High praise," Clarice groaned.

"Oh, don't be like that." The shapeshifter smiled sweetly. "I have good news: Neither of you is on the kill list-- although Creed now wants you to be--"

"'Bout time," Jubilee murmured.

"--so you get to live long enough to learn from your mistakes. My new friends, though, are likely to be somewhat cross when they wake up. Shame on you terrible X-Men for betraying them."

"Could you *please* kill us," asked Clarice, "instead of gloating?"

Mystique kept smiling. "Don't worry. It won't take me long to restore their faith... in Brotherhood."

Clarice reached for her leg. "You are so--"

"'Night, now."

The blue woman dropped a cannister beside them and walked away. Clarice lunged for her, but the seal on the cannister popped and disgorged gas that filled her lungs. She blacked out...

When she awoke, she was in a dark space, handcuffed, with Jubilee beside her.

"...Hell?" she guessed aloud.

"Nah," said the other young woman. "Police wagon. Hell's more like a mall without a shoe store."

Clarice almost laughed. "So Mystique leaves us to take the heat for her mess. Smooth. I assume, then, we're in big trouble?"

"Depends."

She arched an eyebrow. "On what?"

"On whether you feel like sticking around to get booked an' printed an' have to explain to Scott why he shouldn't demote us to X-janitors."

"Oh, let's not," Clarice said. She rolled over beside Jubilee and--

BLINK.

****

Emma Frost heard the discussion in her mind as she approached the Danger Room. Jubilee and Blink were there, talking to Scott, although he was hardly paying attention. As usual, Jubilation Lee was getting in the most words:

"It was all me, Scott. I blew it. Clarice wanted to go back, and I..."

"No," said the young mutant, Blink. She shook her head. "We made a call in the field, together. It seemed to us that if we left Mystique's trail, she was likely to do serious damage..."

Scott looked up.

"...*more* serious damage," Blink corrected herself. "We fought a good fight and she beat us. It was my responsibility as much as anyone's, because I'd do the same thing again. Right, Jubes?"

"Yeah, what she said."

Jubilee's sense was confused, but Emma could feel Scott's quiet approval-- straightforwardness suited him, especially when combined with a willingness to take one's lumps alongside a teammate. He was going to like Clarice Ferguson-- not that he'd say that aloud.

He did say, "Go wash up, get some rest. We'll talk tomorrow."

The young women departed, and Scott returned to his training: Essentially, a high-tech form of skeet shooting, with holographic targets of various shapes and sizes popping out of boxy emitter about as tall as a man's waist. Scott blasted them one at a time, sweeping the room, machinelike in his precision.

He didn't miss a single target until Emma came up behind him and cleared her throat. "Where did you get that?"

"Ben Grimm dropped it off this evening," Scott said. "Apparently, the Fantastic Four and the Avengers held sort of a bake sale, getting up donations for disadvantaged super-groups whose training facilities have gone rogue."

"Is that tax-deductible?" Emma asked.

"I wouldn't know."

Scott blasted again and again. The tension in his thoughts was almost unbearable. Finally, without looking at Emma, he said, "Where were you?"

"Where was I... when?"

"When we had the alert before. Jubilee and Blink just got back; doesn't seem to have gone very well. If you'd been here, you could have assessed the threat level with Cerebra and we could have handled it as a team. But maybe it's asking too much of you to act like part of this team."

Emma's eyes flashed. "Are you reprimanding me?"

"There was a situation, Emma. You weren't there. It's the *second* time recently that you haven't been there for us. (* see Marvel's 'Astonishing X-Men #12,' the last issue before the House of M and our new continuity.) I'd like you to explain yourself.”

“I am not your property, Scott. I am your equal at the Institute...”

“But not on the field team. We've discussed this. I need you to follow orders...”

“When necessary.” Emma turned away from him. “The rest of the time, I am perfectly capable of conducting my own affairs."

“Meaning you'll continue to keep your own schedule, let us down in the middle of the action, and then reappear when it's done, like a Phoenix from the ashes?”

Emma turned white. “That's... rather in bad taste, don't you think?”

Scott laughed. “You're one to lecture me about bad taste. Emma... can I trust you?”

"No, not entirely, and you like that-- don't pretend you don't. I'm not *safe*. That's part of the thrill." She felt her jaw tightly clenched, and forced herself to relax. "But I always act in... our best interests."

Scott studied her through his visor. He reached down deliberately and turned off the machine.

“I want your word,” he said deliberately. “Emma, I... care for... I love you. But that means nothing if we're not on the same page. Will you be there for us, or won't you?"

“For you," she said, "always."

She reached up to touch his cheek, but Scott brushed her hand away and turned his back. Emma flinched, feeling a surge of indignation...

Scott said, “Bobby was asking for you. He'd like you to evaluate his mind.”

“I've been there. It's dreadfully banal.”

“Go *back*,” Scott said. “Those are your *orders* as a member of this team."

“Yes, Mr. Cyclops,” she said, with a lethal smirk. She stepped toward the door.

“The next time you speak to Jean,” he told her, “say hello for me.”

Emma slammed the door shut. Her mouth hung open. “You... knew? I would have sensed..."

“What? Some great emotional turmoil?" Probing his mind, Emma felt only weary disappointment. "I wish you'd told me, Emma. I wish *she'd* told me. I thought our friendship was... if she doesn't want to talk to me, I understand. I don't much like talking to myself. But I'm stuck with me and she's not... and neither are you. Just don't think I'm stupid.”

“I don't," said Emma. "So that's it? You're resigned to give up the inimitable Jean Grey forever? Will you mind if I throw a parade?"

Scott started to say something, but it caught in his throat. He settled for: "When she's ready to address it, we will."

“And then what? Go crawling back to her?"

She felt it in his mind-- unfamiliar, unsuppressed rage-- a half-second before he whirled on her. "*I never said that!* Stop assuming you know what I want."

A pause. Her eyes met his visor. The anger faded, replaced by fatigue on both their parts.

"Nobody knows what you want like I do," she said quietly, "not even you."

"Emma..."

Her feet were already moving, but she paused at the door. “I am... sorry for my absence, Scott. It won't happen again.”

“Thank you. Really."

They left it there. Emma was halfway across the grounds before she even knew where she was going, before she thought about anything at all. It was the flare of mental surprise that brought her back to awareness-- followed by a blossom of pain.

BOOOOM!!! A man's shape was hurled through the air, snapping branches off of trees, to land at Emma's feet. A moment later James Proudstar-- Warpath-- came running up. He stopped at her side, looking down and giving off insufferably pleased emanations.

"Mighty have fallen," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Who'd have thought I'd find *this* guy snooping around like a common criminal?"

Emma didn't answer. Sebastian Shaw, supposed former Black King of the Hellfire Club, smiled up at her as she stared at him. Proudstar hadn't been smart to throw him like that-- with Shaw's kinetic energy power, he'd only made the bugger strong. But Shaw didn't seem interested in fighting.

"There you are, Emma," he said, reaching out his hand. "Help an old colleague off the floor, won't you? Go ahead, I won't bite-- I've got a new proposition for you, since the Scarlet Witch nixed the last one. I know you'll want to hear this."

Proudstar looked on in puzzlement. Emma cursed to herself. She'd been having thoughts of Shaw and what seemed to be his new Lords Cardinal for some time before the House of M, but they hadn't troubled her lately; she'd dared to hope they'd all been scattered to different dimensions, along with many of the world's notable mutants, in the aftermath. That would have spared Emma a choice she'd never wanted to make.

Shaw's words seemed to confirm part of that, but as she stood over him, watching him for clues, Emma Frost could only wonder: *How much will he tell...?*

****

“Thank you,” said the small mutant, for somewhere between the one hundredth and one millionth time. Mystique had lost count a while ago. “Thank you, danke, gracias, merci, domo arigato... want to hear it in Atlantean?”

“No,” said Mystique. She pulled him back into the shadows of the alley where they hid, just as Yet Another Police Cruiser rolled by. The local constabulary were not taking kindly to her tricks of the previous night.

“What my companion means to say,” said the larger mutant, whose face was a single, hideous mass of scar tissue, “is you have our gratitude. We could not bear being caged again.”

“Not a problem,” said Mystique. “You've considered my offer, then?”

“What have we ever done to make you treat us so disrespectfully?" said the little guy, doing a dead-on impression. “If you'd come to us in friendship, these X-Men would be suffering this very day..."

“Shut him up,” said Mystique.

"I think she's making an offer I can't refuse."

“Quiet, Hawk!” The bigger mutant squared her shoulders. “Yes, of course, we will help you. If others knew the truth about the X-Men, pretending to help mutants while actually hunting us for the humans... well, they must be stopped."

“Noble,” said Mystique, a little disappointed that her lie had gone over so well. The X-Men had turned out to be a better challenge than she'd dared hope, but these people were utter fools, lambs to the slaughter, and that was no fun at all.

“My name is Sonja Janssen,” said the woman, shaking her hand. “My... excitable friend is Thomas Hawkins. We call him Hawk.”

“Bug,” said Mystique immediately. “His code name is Bug. Yours is Monolith.”

Sonja nodded. The little man, however, scampered up onto his comrade's shoulders. “Bug? BUG?! Is that the best you've got for me? What about Captain Pureheart or the Human Atom or the Golden Knight?”

“Bug,” Mystique repeated, staring him down.

“B-but can't I at least be an arachnid? The kids love those! There's Spider-Man and the Scorpion and... ooh, the Scarlet Spider! Which reminds me, now that I'm a superhero, can I have a clone? I've always wanted a clone!"

“Keep it up, and your name will be Corpse.”

The small mutant sighed. “No. Fine. 'Bug's' great. I'll get right on the merchandising...”

“Take him out of my sight,” Mystique told Sonja. “Meet me at the rendezvous I mentioned.”

“All right,” said the other. “Where are you going?”

“I have business,” Mystique told her. “Welcome to the Brotherhood. We're going to be great friends.”

“You know better than that,” said Sonja. “There are no friends for people like us.”

True enough. Soon she and her irritating partner were gone, and Mystique stepped further into shadow. The shadows coalesced around her, revealing her employer.

“It's done,” she said. “Did Creed get the others?”

*They're en route to you as we speak,* said the shadow in her mind.

“I'm astonished. This may actually work.”

*Did you doubt?*

“I wondered,” Mystique said. “Actually, I've been meaning to ask: There are hundreds of *known* mutants as powerful as these. Blob can do everything the woman can... and as for the small one, well... Toad's got similar skills, he's *slightly* less annoying, and he's far more committed to this kind of work. If you want a Brotherhood to command, fine, but why are you saddling me with rookies?”

The shadow regarded Mystique, as though deciding how much to tell her. At length, it said: *Because I seek to bring about a particular scenario, Raven Darkholme, and for that, I require a particular team. These have been selected. There can be no others.*

“Way to tie my hands,” said Mystique with a sigh. “I'll do my best. Now, when do I see Rogue?”

*You may -see- her now,* said the shadow, and it displayed an image of Mystique's foster daughter, presumably as she now appeared, living in New Orleans and wearing some absurdly old-fashioned getup (* see X-Factor: Eternity). Mystique reached out, as if to touch the image, then drew back her hand.

“She looks well. When do I get her back?”

*When it suits me,* said the shadow, and it vanished.

Alone now in the alley, Mystique ventured forth into the light of day. If her new friend wanted to be cryptic, that was his concern. Soon enough, he would find out Raven Darkholme could do what suited *her*, as well. And that would be the sweetest game of all...

****

Jubilation Lee was sitting on the front porch of Xavier's mansion, watching the sun set, when Bobby Drake found her.

“Hey,” he said, and she jumped. “Heard you had some excitement yesterday.”

“We *sucked*,” said Jubilee, holding her head in her hands. “We lost the mutants *and* Mystique. Now they're gonna come back at us as enemies. I was so sure we could handle it. I feel like a dumb newbie all over again...”

Bobby sat down beside her. “Don't take it so hard. Mystique's just about the best at this... anyway, my team sucked as bad. Or worse. We lost this round, that's all. We'll get 'em next time.”

Jubilee was quite for a moment. “Y'know what's worse? Clarice got us off the hook. Wouldn't even let me take the fall. What's up with that?"

“I'm no expert, but it sounds like you've got a friend.”

“With friends like those, who needs Sabretooth?” The girl sighed. “Geez, it's like she even *fails* better than me!”

“It's tough bein' a slacker, huh? I know.” Jubes turned to him, annoyed, but Bobby defused her anger with a grin. Then he softened, looking at her.

“Y'know, I'd totally kiss you,” he said. "That is... in a few years. If conditions were..."

"'Scuse me?" Jubilee tried unsuccessfully to hide a blush. “Um, wow. I mean... thanks, I think. Where'd that...?”

Bobby waved her off. “Never mind. I was just... I was telling myself it couldn't happen, the way I saw it. But it could have. It *would* have. That's *exactly* what I would have done, facing death... if I could only figure out why.”

“You're kinda talking crazy."

“Yeah,” he agreed, “I am. It's just... I had a bad dream that seemed pretty weird. But it *wasn't* weird, some of it. Some of it made sense. Now I'm scared... maybe all of it made sense.”

Jubilee squeezed his hand. “Don't worry. That's what you have us for... to chase the bad dreams away.”

“Yeah,” said Bobby, and they watched the sunset together.

They didn't see the girl peeking out from behind a tree a few meters away, staring through them with glowing eyes...

****

In the black room between time, the Five-in-One convened again.

"He's had the dream," Phoebe said.

She could feel the others' reactions, the quickening of their pulses, their shortness of breath, but a casual observer would have noticed little in the black room, nothing in the outside world.

"Once he dreams, it starts again," said Sophie.

"What would have been becomes what will be," said Mindee.

"What will be becomes what is," said Celeste.

"Entropy," said all four girls.

"The faster he runs," said Phoebe, "the closer it comes."

"We failed," said Esme. "Everything just as the Professor said, and we failed to stop it."

The others made faces at her-- probably for mention of the forbidden name. Esme's thoughts were the mental equivalent of sticking out her tongue.

Sophie said, "It's not too late. It can still change."

"Just because it starts the same..." said Celeste.

"...doesn't mean it ends the same," said Mindee.

"We can keep them separate, keep them safe," said Phoebe.

"We *must*," said the four minds in concert.

Esme grunted. "If you really want to stop the cycle, the sure way is to kill him."

Mindee arched an eyebrow. "That does shift the paradigm."

"We don't kill," said Sophie.

"Only *you* kill," said Celeste to Esme.

"We won't be like you," said Phoebe.

"Fine," said Esme. "No killing. We'll just turn him into a vegetable."

Sophie offered a small, superior smile. "He's come too far. You'd be straining water through a sieve."

"We can work that out!"

"No," said Mindee, rejoining the consensus. "It can't be maintained."

"Because dear Sophie thinks it's impossible?" said Esme, with a rebellious glare. "Well, by all means, let's kowtow to her yet again."

Sophie turned to her, very cool. "This is not so small as you and me. This is big as the stars."

"Too much is at stake," said Phoebe.

"We must play it out," said Celeste.

"We must be as one," said Mindee.

Esme frowned at the others, a slow suspicion dawning. "What... precisely are you saying?"

"No more," they all told her.

"This is our task," said Celeste.

"We gave him our word," said Mindee.

"If the Five-in-One can't do it..." said Phoebe.

"...the Four-in-One will," Sophie finished, triumphant.

Esme studied them, saw that they were serious, and leaned back in what would have been her chair. At first she couldn't muster her smile, but slowly the expression found its way back to her lips.

"You know," she said, "if I were someone else, I really don't think I'd like us very much."

The connection dissolved. In the real, present world, Phoebe Cuckoo turned from her hiding place and walked away.

END

In Issue #4: Hellfire
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