WARNING:
THERE WILL BE EXPLICIT SEX AND VIOLENCE IN THIS STORY. The sex is both consensual and nonconsensual, and the violence and sex may be disturbing. If reading scenes like that would offend you, or if you are below the legal age where you live, please don't read this.

If you want to comment, send email to <luba@lubakmetyk.net>

Part 4 Prom Night (Hellfire Club style...)

Kitty paused in the door of the headmistress' office when she saw the White Queen was on the phone, but Emma waved her inside as she kept talking. "Yes, Raven, we do know a very good professional, who's done several 'jobs' for us in the past... He's a freelance now, but he was trained by the Thieves' Guild, one of their very best... Oh, some woman trouble down in New Orleans, I believe... Well, it seems obvious that an expert in breaking and entering would be the perfect agent for arranging a *break-out*, and he is considered the best... Listen, I told you we would arrange Rogue's escape for you. You just concentrate on getting the neutralizer design information from Forge... Raven, any of us can contract with LeBeau, but only you can use your access as Forge's government liaison to get that data -- isn't that why we arranged for you to get that position in the first place?

"I don't care if you steal it from him or seduce it from him, just get it! Until you do, all of us are far too vulnerable to government sanctions..." The regal blonde set down the phone carefully, obviously suppressing a natural urge to hang up with a loud bang, and looked up at the slender brunette standing in front of her desk. "If she does succeed in getting that information, Katherine, I want you -- *personally* -- to drop everything else and, start working on countermeasures immediately. At the very least, some way to reverse the power-drain effects, both to place Mystique under further obligation to us for 'restoring' her foster daughter, and for our own safety. Of course, the best case scenario would be some preventive... something that acts as a vaccine, conferring immunity -- a treatment, or maybe an implant? It should go without saying that you are authorized to order whatever equipment you need. By the way, Pierce objected, of course -- he wanted to be in charge of the research himself -- but the rest of the Inner Circle have agreed, and he was outvoted. So you should probably make every possible effort to avoid him tonight."

Without waiting for Kitty's automatic nod of acknowledgement, Emma stood up and came around the desk. Pausing, she motioned with one long, perfectly manicured finger for the younger woman to turn around, so she could examine her appearance. Her prize student was wearing a sleek little minidress, silver threads interwoven in the royal blue fabric glittering in the light. A subtle drape of carefully gathered cloth enhanced her modest bustline, while the short flirty skirt allowed optimal display of long graceful dancer's legs further highlighted by strappy high-heeled sandals. The back of the minimal dress was open all the way down to her trim waist, only a sparse web of thin spaghetti straps crisscrossing the smooth expanse of taut bare skin. The seeming casual tousling of her glossy chestnut hair had taken considerable time to achieve, as had the expert makeup subtly emphasizing big brown eyes shining against her fair complexion.

"Yes, you'll do quite well," the headmistress allowed coolly, deciding Kitty's attendance would compliment her own appearance nicely -- but not overshadow her. Frost herself wore a sleeveless, tightly- fitted white silk sheath with a dramatically low decolletage and a high slit in the long skirt, which opened to show a generous expanse of leg as she stalked along on equally dramatic stilt-heeled shoes. She'd also donned wide diamond-and-sapphire bracelets over opera-length white silk gloves, with matching wide choker collar and long dangle earrings. "Now, don't forget to make sure the others all concentrate on Magnus' students, regardless of whatever other attentions or invitations they might get from regular clients. It took quite some effort to convince the White King to bring his precious brats here, I don't want us to waste this opportunity."

It wasn't hard for them to spot Magneto in the crowded ballroom. It wasn't his outfit; rather than his signature red and purple, he wore a perfectly tailored tuxedo, as did most of the other men around him -- although few could match the physique beneath the understated elegance. It wasn't his height either, or the shock of thick white hair; others were as tall, and a few of the older men wore their greying (and thinning) locks openly, without resort to 'youthening' dyejobs or hairpieces.

What drew their gaze was the clear space around the man and his companion, despite the overall crush of bodies; what kept their gaze riveted was the arrogant self-confidence reflected in his posture and in his every smallest gesture as his piercing blue gaze swept the syncophant crowd dismissively. Except, perhaps, for Sebastian Shaw himself, the most successful businessmen, the most famous media stars, the most popular politicians in the room could not come close to matching Magnus' air of innate superiority.

It was a wordless tribute to the power of his presence that it took a few moments for the details of his companion's appearance to sink in, but then Kitty gasped, while Emma hissed her displeasure. The tall, coffee-skinned woman with hair as white as Magnus' own despite her own much younger age wore the exact same gown and gloves and shoes as their hostess -- both a wordless challenge to the Hellfire Club's White Queen from the White King's morganatic consort and a wordless taunt, that she had at least one contact uncomfortably deep within Frost's most personal staff. The only difference was that her equally elaborate and expensive jewelry had rubies instead of sapphires, their deep crimson echoing the faint red tinge now permanently tinting the large, pale blue eyes.

Kitty stepped up close to her fuming mentor and jogged her elbow, quietly muttering a single word -- 'Wyngarde' -- as the other couple approached, trusting the telepath to pick up on the rest of her thought. "Magnus, Storm," Emma nodded to them both coolly. "You've met Katherine, I believe." Her eyes defocused slightly as she went on smoothly, "Your pardon for a minute -- I sense a domestic crisis brewing."

As their icily angry hostess mentally ordered Mastermind to cover the other woman's deliberately identical outfit with an appropriate illusion, Kitty stepped into the breech smoothly. "Actually, you may not remember, Storm, but we did meet years ago, when Professor Xavier came to visit my parents." Of course, that had been back before this particular X-man's transformation. Kitty forced back her instinctive shudder, glad yet again that her parents had let her come to Emma's Academy, instead of Xavier's. Manny the Cockroach was bad enough, but she couldn't imagine trying to live and work with a vampire and a demon sorceress.

Speaking of which, the vampire was gesturing at where the demon sorceress stood near the loaded buffet table with her brother and the other New Mutants. "Of course I remember, Kitten." Gleaming, sharp canines flashed briefly as the young brunette scowled at the diminutive. "You met Peter then, also -- I'm sure he'd be more than pleased to renew your acquaintance. Magnus and I agree on the need for more... close... contact between our two teams."

Kitty vaguely recalled the hunky artiste arriviste with little between his ears, as she eyed the black-haired young man, easily as tall and massive as their own Jimmy Proudstar, hovering protectively over his magically-aged blonde sister. "Maybe later." And only on her own terms, or Emma's -- she wasn't accepting any orders from the supercilious Storm. Remembering what she'd read in the files Magneto had shared -- and what she'd hacked for the Hellfire Club in the X-Men's more private files -- Kitty asked pointedly, "I remember the other man with you that day -- older, smoking a cigar? But I don't see him here..."

"Yes, that would have been Logan," Storm smiled, archly. "If you found him interesting enough to remember after such a long time and such a brief meeting, I'm sure we could arrange for you to... get to know him better. But... you'd have to come be our guest in Westchester -- Logan doesn't really get out very much these days."

Their companions had been talking some business just a foot or two away, but now the White Queen interjected smoothly, "That's most kind of you, Storm, but Kitty cannot possibly interrupt her schooling right now." Few things could shake Frost's hard-won cool, but old Xavier's pragmatic solution to the vampire Storm's unquenchable thirst for blood -- letting her drain the fast-healing Wolverine to near-death over and over -- made Emma's own blood run cold. Not for the first time, she wished heartily that Nightcrawler's sorceress girlfriend had let Lilith possess her long enough to eliminate Storm as well as Dracula back when the two vampires had tried to take the blue-furred teleporter. But the German-born mutant had refused to let his friend be destroyed, hoping she could be restored. Instead, he and Amanda were now on the run somewhere in Europe, and the only check to the vampire Storm on her home turf was Magneto's indomitable will, even more than his vast powers -- and the equally demonic Magik.

"Oh, yes, finishing high school is always *so* challenging," Ororo murmured absently, concentrating on enjoying her rival's hidden frisson of fear. "Especially with the high standards you maintain for your students, Emma dear."

Kitty definitely didn't like being patronized, and she also didn't appreciate anyone taunting her mentor so blatantly. "Actually, Miss Frost is right. I've got orals coming up at MIT to defend my master's thesis -- one of them next week, the other at the end of the month -- and I'm sure my professors wouldn't agree to any rescheduling or postponement. But please do give Logan my regards. I hope to meet him again someday."

"Yes, I wanted to wish you every success now, since we may not meet again before your examinations," Magneto commented politely, inclining his proud head to her respectfully. "I know your work has been of much benefit to us already, and can only grow in value with added training. That techno-organic infestation which you and young Douglas managed to control and manipulate has proven to be a remarkably flexible material with an astounding variety of uses, and I know the analysis cannot have been an easy or pleasant task." The brown-haired teen preened at the rare praise. The New Mutants had handily destroyed their surprise attacker -- but only after it had first infected and transformed a local girl into a lifeless copy of itself. She and Doug had had only her remains to study -- a truly macabre assignment. Whether it had been an intelligent living being or highly advanced robot of some kind, or some lower form of life or pseudo-life operating only on instinct or autopilot was still a matter of debate, and Doug still occasionally expressed his regret over the missed opportunity to try to communicate with such a truly alien lifeform. Kitty pulled her attention back, to hear Magneto continuing, "Since you'll be defending your thesis so soon, I can assume you succeeded in stabilizing and miniaturizing that superconducting qubit, then?"

"Yeah, eventually. It sure wasn't easy, though. But I *did* want to thank you -- without your help finetuning the fields to sharpen up the nuclear magnetic resonance imaging, I wouldn't be anywhere near as far along by now as I am."

Storm looked alternately bored and irritated as Kitty and Magneto continued their mostly incomprehensible chat -- the White King might be a more-than-competent self-taught engineer and scientist whose powers gave him an intuitive understanding of electromagnetics, but the weather goddess-turned-vampire had *no* interest in or affinity for technology. Since Emma wanted Kitty to supervise her Hellions' encounter with the New Mutants, the two older women -- so similar in hair color and dress, so different in skin tone and especially in personality -- found themselves uncharacteristically co-operating in nudging the two technophiles apart.

After the White King and White Queen had formally parted with the conventional platitudes neither of them meant, each drawing along their companions, Kitty decided to first check on the rest of her team before finding a target for her own attentions.

The easiest to find, of course, was her deputy leader -- James towered over most of the crowd by an easy foot or more, and he had the bulk to match his height. He stood up against the wall, right next to the patio doors leading out to the mansion's private courtyard garden. Kitty was careful to approach him from the side, letting the guests shield her from his view, phasing into the wall occasionally as needed.

She found Proudstar with his counterpart, the New Mutant co-leader Dani Moonstar. The young Navaho wore a traditional formal tuxedo -- and Kitty had to laugh silently to herself, remembering how many fittings that had taken and how cranky her deputy had become during the tedious process. Aside from his distinctive facial features and coloring, only the leather and feathers braided in his hair and the turquoise stones in his watchband and Western-style bolo tie proclaimed his heritage. In contrast, his Cheyenne companion's outfit was definitely unique in the ballroom. The tall, black-haired girl wore fringed black suede pants, tightly fitted where they hung low on her angular hips but flaring below the knee over elaborately tooled Western boots; above, a white suede leather halter contrasted nicely with the taut expanse of dark, deeply tanned flesh. Both the top and the trousers were decorated with elaborate hand-sewn beadwork in turquoise blue and coral red, which matched her inlaid silver jewelry and the beaded leather confining her coarse black hair in the wide braid hanging down her mostly bare back.

Their heritage made for a natural bond between the couple but, eavesdropping shamelessly, Kitty discovered that they'd found other common ground.

Proudstar took a long swig from the Tecate bottle he held a bit defiantly, then set it down with a thump. "Listen, Dani, you think *you* have problems?! I'll trade you -- you try being deputy leader of a team with little Miss Perfectionist teacher's pet as leader, where the White Queen messes around with your head and Manny the Cockroach messes with your feelings, and Marie-Ange goes around looking solemn and inscrutable because she knows the future but tells you you can't change it so don't even bother trying, and Jenny throws hissyfits whenever any of the guys so much as looks at anyone else, and Haroun acts like it's the rest of us are the ones who aren't fully human, and Sharon is so scatterbrained she can't pay attention to anything for two seconds in a row, and Doug--"

Even with his oversized lungs, he had to stop and take a breath sooner or later and, as soon as he did, "Look, Jimmy, I'll trade you any damn day you want. *You* try living with King Mags the First and a vampire who looks at you like lunch -- *and* her perpetual lunch! -- and a co-leader who's afraid to say boo and a born-again werewolf who's not the most tolerant or patient person around, even if she *is* my best friend, and a male chauvinist pig who thinks *he* should be leader and who's always throwing his fortune in our faces, and a modern Messalina who wants to screw everyone -- except *she* wants to always be on top -- and a demon sorceress who's out to mess with everybody's *souls* -- never mind their heads or feelings or bodies, that's just *tools* to her--"

He waited politely until she'd run down of her own accord. Then, looking over where his companion indicated, "It's hard to believe... Is she really that bad?" With her porcelain white skin, long blonde hair, big blue eyes and pink rosebud lips, the magically-aged Russian girl had the innocent face of an angel; however, that cherubic visage rode atop a short, voluptuous body whose sleeveless red silk slip-gown with wide black lace trim clinging to every seductive movement blatantly advertised its unspoken promise of unspeakable physical delights.

Dani emptied her wine glass in one swallow. "I can see everybody's worst fear, remember? Illyana doesn't bother *me* too much, but that's mostly because she doesn't affect my beliefs any -- I think of her as just one more different power. And I don't mind her making passes at me, I can swing either way." Her free hand reached out to stroke his broad chest suggestively, and Jimmy moved closer in response, to slide his own arm around her bare waist. Danielle sighed and let herself lean against him just a bit, indulging herself in the illusion of supportive strength and sympathy. "But she's been trying to seduce Rahne and Sam for ages -- she seems to consider their 'old-fashioned' religious beliefs some sort of personal challenge -- and both Rahne and Sam freak out whenever she starts in on either of them, for their own sakes, and for each other. Bobby plays along with her -- he tries to make out she's just another adoring girlfriend panting for his attentions, but I know he's scared of her deep inside... It'd be hard for any serious, practicing Catholic not to be, and he hasn't managed to shed anywhere near that much of his upbringing. Amara's more like me -- at least Illyana isn't against her religion. And Amara's one of the few around with enough raw power to seriously challenge Illyana. But Amara's so jealous of the guys -- especially Bobby -- being so fixated on Illyana physically, sexually, that I'm afraid they'll tear the team apart between them."

"Her brother seems devoted," Proudstar commented, seemingly idly, while his enormous hand continued slowly caressing the sleek brown back so enticingly exposed.

She grimaced in badly hidden distaste. "Yeah, even though Peter's a good atheist communist who doesn't believe in anything but the material world officially, he doesn't seem to have had any trouble accepting and worshipping his demon sister as his own personal god..."

The New Mutant's low voice trailed to a halt, obviously perturbed by how far the conversion had gotten out of her control. She was equally obviously relieved when the Hellions' deputy leader shrugged off her last comment with an apparently casual, "Well, I certainly worshipped *my* big brother." She didn't realize he'd just reminded himself of why he couldn't allow himself to accept her, and them together, at face value, even as he asked solicitously, "Would you like more wine? We could get some fresh drinks, maybe go some place a bit more private, relax, and get to know each other better..."

He'd leaned down toward her, and let his voice fall lower and lower suggestively as his hand kept drawing patterns on her bare skin, feeling the goosebumps rising in silent response. "That sounds like a great idea. Actually, I'd really like to get *out* -- I feel like I'm suffocating in here. Some fresh air might clear my head."

Jimmy gestured at the French doors right next to them. "Everything should be that easy. Why don't you go ahead and wait for me outside in the garden, while I go get us fresh drinks?"

After they'd parted temporarily, Kitty phased completely out of the wall she'd been hovering in, and nodded to herself, pleased at how things were going. She'd been worried at first that Jimmy might lose control and forget where his loyalties belonged, but he was obviously getting far more infomation than he was revealing. She had no intention of dictating or challenging the method he chose to use... as long as it worked.

As the young, beautiful brunette absently deflected several offers of drinks, requests for a dance and propositions to retire temporarily to one of the private rooms available for guests' use while she wandered purposely around the enormous ballroom and its surrounds, a tall, lanky, tow-headed youth was the next person on her mental checklist that she located.

"What Ah wanta know is, why ya hired me way back when, an' brought me all that way from Kentucky up ta New York? *Just* ta be one o' your goons -- or did y'all already know Ah was gonna turn out ta be a mutant, that mah family was gonna have all these mutants in it?"

She winced to see Samuel Guthrie involved in an increasingly heated conversation with Donald Pierce, and quickly slid behind several other partygoers to shield herself from their view. From what Emma had said earlier about Pierce's jealous reaction to her proposed neutralizer work assignment, it would only add to the acrimony if she interfered directly between the two men.

It took her another moment to find what she wanted -- then Kitty finally spotted Roulette and Tarot at the buffet table with Jetstream and daCosta. She almost missed Marie-Ange -- her deep auburn hair parted in the center and pulled back madonna-like into a graceful bun riding low on her neck above a black velvet medieval-style gown didn't stand out at first glance, only a more careful inspection revealing the elegant bands of embroidery tracing the edge of the deep V-neck, wide flowing sleeves and sweeping hem, and the girdle on which her cards rode close to hand in an embroidered-leather belt pouch. But Jennifer's cherry-red skin-tight dress, with its high neck and even shorter hem, called lots of attention to itself -- especially coupled with the dyed-to-match stilt-heels raising her heavily made-up blonde head quite a few inches higher than normal.

Kitty started toward them, planning to grab one of the girls and send her to get Guthrie out of Pierce's way, irritated that they seemed to be wasting their attention on their own team-mate rather than on their specified targets. But the Hellions' official leader (and unofficial minder) quickly noticed there was something wrong in the group dynamic on view. She didn't see two couples, or two males competing for two females; instead, the two young men stood face-to-face, only a few inches apart, their body language silently screaming aggression, while the two girls hovered uncertainly behind them, a few feet back.

She came up to them just in time to hear daCosta ripost sneeringly, "Well, if your father had bothered with proper due diligence before he bought the company he'd have been aware of the eroding profit margins. *My* father has made no secret of the production problems resulting from trying to match Malaysian dump-pricing. But all the sheik was interested in was adding another bauble to his toy chest--"

As al Rashid swung at the smug Brazilian, knocking him into the table, sending food and serving dishes and tensils flying and nearby guests shouting in alarm, Kitty grabbed Tarot and Roulette and hissed at them, "Go get Cannonball away from Pierce, and do whatever you have to do to keep them apart. I'll handle this."

By this time, daCosta was up again and rushing the Middle Easterner. He lunged at his opponent with surprising speed developed through years of futbol (soccer) training, pummelling the Arabian with three rapid-fire punches to the gut before finishing with an explosive uppercut. While not a highly skilled fighter in any sense of the word, the Brazilian's close-quarters combat training gave him a distinct advantage over the Arabian's hit-and-run aerial maneuvers in a brawl such as this one.

Kitty headed for them, phasing through the bystanders struggling to get away, cursing under her breath but sparing a moment to be grateful they hadn't started using powers yet -- apparently, neither macho combatant had lost their head completely enough to forget Magneto's and the White Queen's strictures on that subject. But she was sure their admirable self-restraint wouldn't last past the first few moments.

Unfortunately, for Roberto, he was far too cocky to realize that it would take more than four punches to win a victory over the Hellion, and was unprepared for Haroun's surprise counterattack, which consisted of an incredibly painful (thanks to Jetstream's cybernetic legs) roundhouse kick to Sunspot's left side. DaCosta didn't stay down long, though, as he leapt to his feet, grasped the back of Haroun's neck with both hands, and brought his knee up to collide with the mutant rocketeer's chest. Jetstream's downward motion combined with the strong upward momentum of Roberto's knee packed a powerful punch, much to the former's regret, as he was now balled up on the floor, chest heaving in a frantic attempt to replace the oxygen in his forcefully emptied lungs.

But, as Roberto moved in and began pulling Haroun up by his hair, the Hellions' leader finally arrived and acted immediately, knowing all too well that calming a rage like theirs would take too long, and there was no guarantee of a positive result. "Is this what you boys call being on your best behavior?" Kitty asked sarcastically, getting daCosta to look up at her and open himself up to attack.

"Huh?" was all that the New Mutant managed to say before Kitty snapped a precisely aimed jab into his solar plexus, giving him roughly the same sharp pain that Haroun was just recovering from. With the situation quickly coming under her control, Kitty turned back to look at her fellow Hellion -- ready to reach out and phase both combatants so they couldn't do any more damage to each other or anything or anyone else -- and was surprised to see only his legs hanging in front of her face. She glanced over her shoulder to see Roberto in the same predicament, then turned around completely to come face-to-chest with the one responsible.

"Must we return you both to your sandbox, 'malenki'?"

"Unhand me, peasant!" yelled Roberto and Haroun in unison.

Kitty growled inwardly at the Russian's presence -- then masking her anger became infinitely more difficult when Piotr 'handed' Haroun over to her, saying, "I believe that this one is yours, da?"

"I was doing just fine by myself, Rasputin." Kitty scowled, unable to keep the venom from her comment. Fortunately, the communist farmer was too busy gloating over Roberto to notice, and Kitty managed to gather a better hold on her emotions before continuing on, in her most formal manner, "I trust your esteemed headmaster will punish *your* 'little' troublemaker for his actions tonight. I assure you that Miss Frost will do so with ours." With that, Kitty grabbed Haroun by the collar and pulled him away before the situation got any worse.

The giant Russian glanced over at Haroun menacingly, but most of his attention stayed on his own teammate. He ignored Sunspot's sputtered "He hit me first!" as he kept a tight grip on the younger boy's shoulder. "No excuses. I do not care whether you were provoked, or whether you did the provoking -- and neither will Magneto or Storm... or Illyana. Your childish tantrums shame us. If you cannot behave in public, then leave."

Meanwhile, once they were a considerable distance from the crowd, Kitty tightened her own grip on Haroun's collar and shoved him up against a wall. "And *you* are grounded for the rest of the night," knowing she was taking out her extra anger at the Russian X-Man on her fellow Hellion -- and enjoying it.

"I do not take orders from women," the Arab traditionalist sneered.

Kitty had been getting tired of Haroun's insubordination for quite some time, and this was the last straw. Moving so quickly he had no time to react, she phased them both through the floor. Once in one of the basement storage rooms, she resolidified them -- but only after passing her phased form through Jetstream's cybernetics. The young man collapsed to the floor with an agonized cry, paralyzed. "You're going to stay down here and out of my hair at least until the ball is over -- and however much longer it takes for me to remember to send somebody to get you, and fix you. You *might* want to spend this enforced time-out rethinking how it really *isn't* a very good idea to always assume women are a lower form of life -- *especially* not women who can lay you out flat with a thought or a gesture.

"Now, I'm going to go have a few choice words with that *Russian* male chauvinist pig!"

She'd had time to rethink that impulse while returning to the ballroom, and decided that unfortunately it would be more politic to avoid the male Rasputin instead -- easy to do, because he stood out above the crowd just like their own Proudstar did. Before she could locate and check on any more of her team, however, Emma's ice-cold, diamond-hard thought cut into her mind. _Tessa reports we have a problem in the kitchen. Deal with it. *Now*._

Taking the fastest route to the more domestic regions in the back of the enormous mansion, Kitty briefly congratulated herself. There'd been a long-running debate, whether the Hellions were to be at the general command of any of the Inner Circle, or were responsible to the White Queen only. But the Black King's pet telepath not contacting her directly suggested Emma was gradually winning that particular battle... as she usually did.

And there certainly was something unusual going on -- the slender brunette could hear the ruckus while still several rooms away. In the kitchen itself, she found Shaw's personal assistant in her usual Hellfire Club garb, standing in the middle of the busy kitchen trying to restore order by herself. But there were just too many minds for the lesser psi talent to control completely. Several of the waitresses (and even a few of the waiters) were having fits of screaming hysterics, while others scrambled to rescue food spilt onto the floor and a few brave souls -- including one particularly foolhardy sous-chef brandishing a meat cleaver -- chased after the werecat and werewolf racing around, snatching food off platters, knocking things over, and generally creating total chaos.

Running in, Kitty grabbed Tessa's arm to get her attention. "You concentrate on the staff, I'll take care of those two." Not waiting to see if the other agreed, Kitty yelled loudly, "Sharon! Stop it *right now*!" She figured -- and quite rightly -- that the New Mutant werewolf would feel no compunction to follow orders from a Hellion, but she knew she could count on Catseye, and have her subdue Rahne.

The giant pale purple cat swerved to run toward her. Kitty would have been knocked off her feet if she hadn't phased instinctively; then she had to resolidify almost immediately, at least enough of her body to knock out the frenzied, armed cook who was still fixated on defending his domain. Glancing around, she saw Tessa was gradually calming the staff, setting the older retainers long used to such peculiarities to reassure the younger or newer workers, while the werewolf huddled under a table snarling at anyone who dared approach. "Come on, Sharon. You get your friend, and we'll go find your clothes before anything happens to them, while Tessa finishes up here. Where did you leave your stuff, anyway?"

"Why couldn't you two stay in the ballroom, and have some nice, *normal* fun for a change?" Kitty scolded her companions, on their way to rescue the weregirls' discarded garments. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Manuel huddling in a corner with that New Mutant girl Amara, but assumed he was just busy seducing her, and dismissed them from her mind.

Padding alongside her best friend, Catseye shrugged feline shoulders expressively. "Not like bloodstink, not like demonstink. And tag with redtop furfriend *is* nicenormal funrunplay."

Kitty's habitual avoidance of the obnoxious Empath -- which, to be fair, was a habit she shared with the rest of the 'special' students and most of the Hellfire Club's Inner Circle -- made her miss the important conversation the Castilian grandee was having with Amara Juliana Olivians Aquilla -- Amara, the young mutant powerful enough to legitimately think of herself as a volcano goddess, who controlled the molten life blood of Terra Mater herself -- a voluntary self-exile from a modern-day Imperial Rome hidden away deep in the South American Andes.

Tonight, her thick blonde hair was arranged atop her proud head in an elaborate coiffure of interlocking braids and curls, and she'd left behind the virginal white which centuries of unbroken tradition dictated for a young unmarried girl in favor of a rich sea-green dalmatica layered over a peacock blue undertunic with gold broaches holding the shoulders and sleeves in place, wearing the matching gold armbands and necklace and earrings and tiara which were among the few personal possessions she'd brought away with her, and modern-make, high-heeled goldtone evening sandals which laced up her calf Grecian style, to just below her knee.

It had taken the experienced Empath only a moment to sense Amara's innate arrogance, and her frustrated anger, and seize his opportunity. "I was supposed to seduce you with sweet words and empty promises, my lady, for the benefit and entertainment of my 'superiors' and yours... but I am offended by the very notion of betraying my only true equal, a feeling I can only hope and trust that you share," and if she didn't, he would make absolutely sure she did, "and would therefore propose an alliance instead. I will help you, and you will help me."

But he mistook the reason for her easy agreement. Manuel thought Amara resented Illyana as he himself resented Kitty -- which was true. His skill at reading emotion was unparallelled, after all. But he read feelings, not thoughts, and never even considered the blonde patrician's interest in the Castilian grandee might come from a quite different motive.

Amara had wanted Roberto daCosta from her first days with the New Mutants. The son of an important Brazilian industrial magnate, he had been flattered, thinking it was his charm and style and sex appeal -- in addition to his social position -- that had attracted her interest. He was right... *and* he was wrong. Even more importantly, Amara quite simply wanted his wealth -- to ensure she wouldn't ever have to go back to her father's straight-laced guardianship in Nova Roma. Even though she was reasonably sure none of the other Nova Roma aristocrat families would offer for her in honorable matrimony after her experiences in the modern world, she still feared being sent back, to be shut away as a disgrace, or sacrificed. Amara knew she didn't have the skills necessary to survive on her own in the modern world where she wanted to stay, and certainly not in the style to which she'd so happily become accustomed -- but Roberto's money would guarantee her survival and independence, if the X-Men ever decided to send her away, to her once-but-never-again 'home.'

However, although he was receptive to her charms, Roberto remained far too fixated on the inhumanly seductive Illyana to respond to her many hints for a more formal relationship, and Amara had long been afraid that her time was running out. Now, raised as one of the highest patricians in her homeland, she was socially sensitive enough to recognize the Old World de la Rocha as a natural aristocrat a step even above the New World daCosta... and quite wrongly assumed he was even wealthier, also, unaware his family had lost their entire fortune some time before. Here was her ticket to security in the world she so desperately desired, she thought, and with no competition worth worrying about among the female Hellions. She and Manuel were a natural alliance... a natural marital alliance.

Before they'd had the chance to discuss any real details, though, they heard a loud, impatient "Amara! There you are! Come on -- I'm ready to get out of this madhouse."

The bloodied, dishevelled and still raging Sunspot was obviously expecting some exclamations of sympathy from his team-mate, but the elegant blonde just stared at him in disapproval and disgust. It was Manuel who reached out with his mutant senses, to tickle Roberto's mind with thickening tendrils of desire while he said silkily, "I believe your team-mate -- the other blonde girl, Illyana? -- was looking for you earlier. She said she *needed* you." Elaborating the delicate web he was weaving for the other boy, he began to add in subtle harmonics of self-confidence and arrogance to bolster the notion that Bobby's sudden arousal was reasonable, and normal -- and returned.

"Oh. Well, in that case..." already turning away, "I'll see you later, Amara."

Manuel had to fight hard to hide his satisfied smirk. Not only had he gotten rid of daCosta's interference easily, now he had a fresh font of anger and frustration and irritation within his intended target, all those negative emotions just more instruments for him to play his music upon.

In the meantime, approaching Sharon's and Rahne's dresses lying discarded behind some potted plants in the garden, Kitty grinned broadly, seeing Jimmy and Dani had gotten down and dirty very quickly -- and quite literally, since none of their partially discarded clothing had offered much protection from the carefully cultivated rich black soil, tiny pebbles, dead fallen leaves and other typical garden debris where they had been fully entangled in a far corner behind some screening bushes.

The two Native Americans were now scrambling around in their haste to get dressed again, Dani insisting fretfully, "I *have* to find Rahne, I know* something's upsetting her, I *could *feel* it, through our bond."

Kitty stored away that interesting tidbit of information, while two furred bodies pushed past her to run and jump on the couple making so much noise themselves that neither noticed their audience until knocked down physically. The resultant general scuffle started out reasonably friendly and quiet, until the evidently jealous Rahne bit Jimmy in a particularly awkward private spot, making him bellow, and a protective Sharon retaliated by biting her fellow werecreature in the equivalent place -- which threatened to start a *real* fight.

"Rahne, stop that!" Dani grabbed the werewolf and hauled her off, scolding furiously in a low voice. "Behave yourself!"

"Sharon, here!" Kitty held out her friend's simple, sarong-style wraparound dress, its pastel flower pattern pale in the faint light. "Please, Sharon?"

The werecat ignored her, and went on licking Proudstar's obviously minor injury for another long moment before shifting back to human form, standing there tall and naked and unconcerned, asking, "Classfriend redskin thunderbird still achy-hurt?"

"I'm fine, Sharon -- thanks." The giant young man picked himself up somewhat gingerly, wincing, glancing around for the rest of his clothes.

"You'd all better go inside and get cleaned up," Kitty suggested. "And you two try to stay two-legged for a while -- I don't think this party is ready for werecats and werewolves playing tag with the guests... and I don't think *either* of our teachers would much appreciate having their evening out interrupted by any more trouble."

Catseye shrugged unconcernedly, but reached out for her dress and slipped it around herself without any further argument -- as usual, she hadn't bothered with wearing anything *under* it -- while Kitty wondered cynically just how long she'd keep it on this time.

"Nay, A canna," Rahne mumbled from where she was trying to hide her pale nakedness from the others behind her best friend's tall, athletic form. "Nae here, where ye all can see..."

"Oh, for-- here!" James picked up his dress shirt and tuxedo jacket -- either *more* than big enough to cover the short redhead completely -- and threw them to Dani.

"Thanks," she said softly, handing the shirt to the Scots girl still cowering behind her, while putting on his jacket herself to cover her dishevelled toplessness. Then she started to gather up Rahne's fancy pink princess gown and the purse, gloves, shoes and stockings, camisole and petticoat and bra and panties scattered around it.

"Sorry, Kitty," her deputy mumbled apologetically, as he bent to retrieve Sharon's sandals and hand them to the exotic, lavender-haired girl. "I didn't mean to let things get out of hand. I'll take everybody back to our quarters and show our guests where they can clean up, ok?"

Kitty had just returned to the ballroom, and was scouting around again, when she felt her mentor's unmistakeable mindtouch once more, its usual freeze warmed by concern. _I cannot sense Douglas' mind anywhere._

_I haven't seen him since this afternoon, but I'll keep looking,_ Kitty sent back. Quartering the room methodically, concentrating on her search, she jumped to feel a large hand drop down onto her bare shoulder suddenly, and whirled around, ready to phase and/or fight if necessary.

"There you are, finally," the X-Man Colossus smiled down at her. "I've been looking for you."

"Why?" Kitty asked bluntly, distracted by worry about Doug -- an innate innocent despite all Emma's training -- and still a bit in a snit about Storm's suggestive comments, as well as Rasputin's interference earlier.

_Keep him talking,_ came the mental prod. _Douglas was with his sister earlier..._

Kitty forced herself to soften both her body language and facial expression as the massive young man continued, "To extend my apologies -- I only meant to help earlier, not to impunge your authority. And to ask a favor -- I would like to paint you."

She stared up into the gray eyes looking down at her appraisingly. "Why would you want to do that? You have a lot more beautiful subjects available a lot closer to home -- Amara, Storm... your sister Illyana..."

_It was his sister who took Douglas to her realm of Limbo a short time ago, for some reason he doesn't know._ Emma was using her student's conversation with the emigre artist as an anchor while she rooted around in his mind. _He is supposed to distract you from Douglas being missing. But we can turn that around, use him to follow them, to find Doug..._

The slender brunette let herself sway forward slightly, as Peter ran that enormous hand gently up from her shoulder, caressing her neck, and then her face, running broad, thick fingertips lightly over her jawline, her cheekbones. "But none of them have *your* particular look -- your skin, your hair, your eyes, your delicacy... Of course, I would have to get to know you better, *much* better, to do you full justice -- I paint a person's inner self, not just their face..."

Guileless wide brown eyes stared up at him, then Kitty looked away and down again. "I'm sorry... I think I'd like that, but I don't think we can make it happen. I doubt you'd want to come stay at the Academy -- although I'm sure Emma would *love* to have you as a guest instructor in art--" Storm wasn't the only one who could play *that* game. "After all, Massachusetts is so far from your sister and your team. But no way am I ever going down to Westchester, I'd be afraid to be that close to Storm." She let her quite natural shudder of revulsion show, and let it shift her even closer to her companion. "This place here is certainly way too crowded tonight, and anyway I can't just leave, I *do* have my responsibilities... And there really isn't any other place we could have enough time... and privacy... to get to know each other better.." She made sure to run just the tip of her tongue over slightly parted lips.

_Good girl..._ Emma whispered mentally. _He *does* have a way to go to Limbo himself, in case of emergency -- she left him a stepping disk to use... Now, all we need are a few minor adjustments..._

"We could go to my sister's realm. Much of it is hellish, but her palace is quite comfortable, luxurious, even -- and we could stay there as long as we want and still come back only a minute or two after we left, so no one would know you had taken a well-earned vacation from the heavy burden of your reposibilities to your teacher and team..." Peter stepped even closer in reponse to her silent invitation, sliding his hand downward to caress her bare back and then settle around her trim waist.

Kitty smiled up at her unlikely suitor in easily simulated delight, while inside she was fighing to hold back her laughter. Emma had twisted him around until he was determinedly trying to persuade Kitty to come with him where she needed to go, where he'd been ordered to keep her away from. _Yes, but be careful, Katherine. I'll leave him programmed to help and obey you, but once you're there I will lose contact with his mind and with yours, just as I have with Douglas'. You will be on your own. He's forgotten or neglected most of the mental disciplines old Xavier used to teach his X-Men, but no mental compulsion I place so hurriedly is likely to survive contact with his sister, much less make him go against her -- her hooks in him run far too deep..._

Kitty stifled her groan as she carefully began phasing away from her companion, slowly enough that he wouldn't topple over or anything -- after all the work she'd put into getting him asleep, the *last* thing she wanted was to startle him awake, and have to start over.

Finally up on her feet, the slender brunette stretched her aching body slowly, deliberately, trying to loosen up stiffened muscles even as she enjoyed the faintest hint of a hot dry breeze against her sweat-soaked skin.

She glanced down at Rasputin's sprawled-out, snoring bulk on the rumpled sheet draped across the bed-cum-artist's dais, shaking her head disdainfully. She'd expected more finesse, but he seemed to believe in the macho-man school of muscles rather than technique, dropping his sketchbook and grabbing her with little ceremony in-between drawing her. Fortunately, though, his overweening self-confidence had kept him from questioning her own seemingly insatiable demands -- she'd had to really work on him those last two times to get him up and ready, but he'd been so flattered by her apparent infatuation with his charms it hadn't occurred to him to suggest they could stop, and rest, and resume their play later.

Which was exactly what she *didn't* want -- she wanted Magik's brother completely out of action while she searched for her teammate.

Leaning down with another tiny, muffled groan, Kitty picked up her discarded party dress, shook her head at the torn fabric, and dropped it again.

It only took her a minute to search her putative host's quarters. Whistling soundlessly at a collection of whips, chains and sex toys that any member of the Hellfire Club might envy, she found a chest of what *had* to be his sister's clothes. Sparing a moment to study a tangled mass of thin leather straps that turned out to be a body harness that covered *nothing* of any importance, the Hellions' leader quickly settled on a pajama set that would allow her reasonable freedom of movement and whose black silk with its crimson-and-gold lace trim might be at least somewhat inconspicuous in the flickering red light so feebly illuminating Limbo. The comandeered outfit had slits in it in some *very* awkward places, but it was the best of a bad set of choices.

Illyana's palace was a massive structure that blended traditional Russian architecture with Baroque overtones and the darkly Gothic influence of Limbo to create a truly imposing monument to the young sorceress's despotic rule. And from one of the palace's highest tiers, Kitty now looked out across the vast landscape, getting her bearings straight before beginning her search.

Glancing over her shoulder at the sleeping man she'd just wasted hours exhausting, she grimaced briefly before turning back towards the window and quickly vaulting out of it. After freefalling a few feet to give herself the proper momentum, the slender brunette phased, and floated down the rest of the way until she hit the ground some minutes later.

Once she had landed, Kitty glanced around to make sure no one had seen her, then crept slowly over to the two figures she had spotted from so high up. Peering out from behind her hiding place, she saw that she'd guessed right. The missing Doug Ramsey was sitting on a stone bench of some kind next to Illyana, and Kitty could tell instantly that the lovely blonde girl was playing Doug's keys like a master pianist -- but she couldn't tell why. Deciding that her awol teammate was in no immediate danger -- yet -- Kitty crawled closer until she was within earshot, then ducked down, eavesdropping on their conversation.

"...I could go on for hours about why I love your eyes so much, honestly, but you're probably wondering why I brought you here, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I... I guess," Doug stuttered, not relying on his immense vocabulary at all, so captivated was he by Illyana's own eyes and voice.

"Well, this is hard for me, since you're on the other side and all -- but I need your help."

"What do you need?" he replied, eager to offer whatever he had.

"You see how evil this place is, don't you? All the corruption, the demonic nature of this place."

"Sure. What about it?"

"It wasn't always like this. There was a time, before Belasco, that Limbo actually looked like this." With a wave of her hand, the light brightened from red gloom to bright sunlight, and the circular field they sat in turned into a green pasture full of grasses and flowers, and even a few trees. Then, as her hand fell again, the light faded, the grasses crumbled into dirt, the flowers turned into rocks, and the trees became lifeless husks. "But, in order to restore it, I need your help."

"How do you mean? I'd love to help, but I don't see where I'd be that useful to someone as powerful as you," Doug said, intensely touched by her plight.

"There's a book in the vault down there," she replied, pointing to the open doorway leading into the base of the mountain that supported the palace. "In that book, there is a spell capable or reversing the damage Belasco has done. A spell that could restore Limbo's magnificent beauty forever."

"So why haven't you used it yet?"

"Because I can't read it," Illyana pouted, eliciting a look of deep sympathy from her one-man audience, just as she'd intended. "Those books were written in a language of the gods, that no human could ever hope to decipher."

"Except someone who can read anything," Doug nodded, enlightened.

"Precisely. Only you can read these books, and that's why I need you. You will help me, won't you?"

"Of course," the blond youth said, without a second thought.

"Here." Illyana said, producing a small leather-bound book from a pocket, then handing it to Doug. It took him a moment to realize that the 'leather' was actually human skin. Putting aside his revulsion, he opened the book. "Read the first page to me. What does it say?"

He told her, and she smiled. Pulling him into a jovial hug, which he happily reciprocated, Illyana cried, "I knew you could do it, Doug! It's so wonderful, knowing that Limbo will be so much better soon." Behind his back, while he couldn't see her face, she smiled as she said those words -- not a happy or cheerful smile, but a malevolent and scheming one.

Then, once again hiding her true feelings behind a well-crafted facade, Illyana pulled away from Doug, and grabbed both of his hands. "Quickly, now! The sooner you find and translate that book for me, the sooner we can restore Limbo!"

"Not so fast, you evil witch!"

"Kitty?!? What are you doing here?" Doug jumped, startled by both her sudden appearance and her current attire.

"That's not important now. What *is* important is that you're being tricked." Kitty cut off Doug's automatic denial before he could voice it. "Think back, Doug, to all the times Manuel's used his powers to manipulate you. Don't you see, she's doing the exact same thing?!"

Doug stood there, mouth agape, and considered Kitty's words, then stared at Illyana. His mind was alert now, and -- thanks to all his past experiences with Empath -- he could tell instantly that he'd been played for a fool. Reining in his anger, Doug took a few deep breaths, then asked, "So, what were your real plans for me? What do you REALLY want?"

"I want Storm dead," Illyana said, bluntly. "There's a book in that vault that holds the spell I need to do it. You could still help me, you know. It's not like either of you have any love for the bitch, and you'd be able to sleep easier knowing that she's dead."

"Leaving you with no rival to hold you back? I don't think so." Kitty shot back, arms crossed over her chest. "Kill her yourself if you have to, but leave us out of it."

"Oh, and exactly how do you two intend to leave Limbo in that case, may I ask? You can never be certain where or when you'll end up without me to summon the right stepping disks."

"Looks like we're at an impasse, then. We won't help you, and you won't help us," Doug snapped, still bitter about being taken in so easily.

Illyana glared at them for a moment, then smiled. "All right, then, I'll offer you two a deal. *If* you can defeat my champion I will return you both to your little party, seconds after you left it. But if you are defeated, then Doug must stay, and translate my books, and my brother and I get Kitty as our own personal plaything. So, do we have a deal?"

Kitty eyed the innocent-looking demon sorceress coldly, considering her options. "Deal. Where is this champion of yours, then?"

As if on cue, the massive form of Piotr Rasputin rocketed down on them like a human torpedo, pounding out a massive crater that sent debris flying everywhere. Fortunately, Kitty managed to phase both herself and Doug in time, protecting them from the projectiles. Glancing over to the crater, she saw the chromed hand of Colossus reaching out of it, grasping the lip to pull himself up.

Kitty assumed a defensive stance instinctively. "Doug, get out of here. The tin-man's mine."

"Waaay ahead of you on that one, Pryde!" Doug said as he ran toward the tunnel containing the spell vault, to hide. He hated this, being the helpless one in every fight, but he knew the routine.

"*You* should flee as well, girl. Your false smiles and lying eyes won't help you this time," Piotr growled, steel teeth grinding together.

"Against you, I won't need 'em. It's not like you've got much room for a brain in that thick skull of yours."

Kitty phased long before Piotr's hand even came near her, and smiled smugly. "You can't hit something that you can't touch, idiot." Colossus merely growled again.

"That's a good point, actually. I should remedy that." Illyana's fingers danced for a moment as she cast a spell.

"Dammit!" Kitty yelled as she leapt away, rolling to the side and onto her feet. "There's no way in hell this is a fair fight!"

"I said that you had to defeat my champion, Kat. I never said it was going to be fair." Illyana grinned, then sighed. "But Piotr will be impossible to live with if he beats you too easily." Her nimble fingers wriggled again, as she muttered a few more incomprehensible words. "Tell you what -- I'll give you half of your powers back... just to keep things more interesting. But you'll have to find out the hard way which half!"

As Illyana talked, Kitty dodged every punch that the X-Man threw at her, keeping a safe distance between herself and him. She ducked under his wide swing, side-stepped a kick that would have punted her back up the mountain he'd leapt off of at his sister's summons, and jumped over his head as he lunged for her.

Unlike the organic steel behemoth's enraged attack, however, Kitty was equally busy thinking up a plan of action. She knew that she couldn't keep up this pace forever, and eventually Piotr would get a lucky hit in. A few aborted efforts had quickly shown her she could no longer phase herself, but she quickly found she could still phase things she touched, if she concentrated. However, she knew she couldn't phase her opponent quickly enough to save herself -- a single punch from him would kill her if he ever made contact, so she had to think of something fast.

Across the impromptu battlefield, Kitty saw her answer. Watching over her shoulder as the rampaging Russian charged at her yet again, Kitty made a dash for one of the stunted, dead trees she'd seen earlier. Leaping, she grabbed hold of a branch and snapped it off, then landed in a perfect gymnast's roll, letting him pass right over her. She sprang to her feet just afterward, and positioned her weapon perfectly. When Colossus spun around to face his opponent again, he was shocked to find the phased branch-cum-staff lodged in his head, right between his eyes.

"Bang, you're dead." Kitty said, and Piotr froze. "Go normal, or else I unphase this right inside that empty skull of yours. Might kill you, might not. Your sister might be able to put you back together -- or she might not. So ask yourself, are you feeling lucky today, jerk?"

Piotr considered his options and, seeing that he really had none, turned back to flesh at his sister's gesture. Kitty simply smiled, then pulled the staff out, unphased it, and snapped it right back at his head, hitting a crucial nerve bundle that dropped him like a sack of potatoes.

"That was easy enough," Kitty said, looking back at Illyana, who was clapping at the performance.

"Well done, Hellion -- a very entertaining show. You'll make an absolutely wonderful minion, once you've been successfully corrupted."

"But you said..." Kitty replied, more angry than surprised.

"I lied. Take her!" Illyana yelled, with a flourish of her hands. Instantly, a dozen demons appeared out of nowhere and started grabbing at Kitty. The fight with Colossus had taken a lot out of her, and now her powers were completely gone again. Every time she moved to hit one, it left her vulnerable to an attack from another, and it wasn't long before they'd managed to successfully subdue and bind her.

"So you're a genuine teacher's pet, I hear?" Illyana leaned in close to her bruised and battered captive, to push sweat-soaked, tangled hair back off the other girl's face and to whisper in her ear, "I bet you're a wonderful suck-up, too. I wonder exactly *how* good..." she purred seductively, and Kitty shuddered involuntarily as the demon sorceress's warm breath tickled her neck while a hot, greedy hand explored the soft, vulnerable flesh inside one of those conveniently-located (for Illyana, that is) slits in the outfit Kitty had 'borrowed' a short while ago.

"Stop."

The word was strangely a whisper and a scream at the same time. As one, the gathered mutants and demons turned to see the forgotten player in this game, Douglas Ramsey, standing on the path leading to the vault of spells. His blue eyes flashed briefly to match the liquid fire of silver and gold pouring from one hand as he held a glowing spell-book in the other. Illyana glanced about herself, seeing that all of her demons had been incinerated, leaving only the four mutants.

"You were right, you know... I *could* read every book in there. And I found a whole *lot* of neat stuff," Doug went on, waving his hand in front of him, trailing a sparkling magic mist in its wake as first he restored Kitty's power, so she could phase herself free again, then healed all the damage she'd taken from the Limbo demons. "Now, this can be very easy or very painful... for you."

Illyana was proud and delightfully cruel, but she wasn't an idiot. She was facing someone who was talented enough to be a threat, wielding unfamiliar spells, and -- even worse -- too inexperienced for her to properly predict his tactics. While she stood a good chance of defeating the challenger, it would no doubt take a large portion of Limbo with it, and leave her too weakened to defend herself from the ambitions of S'ym and others. Cutting her losses seemed like the wiser path.

"Looks like you've won -- this time. Enjoy it while you can," she sneered. One quick mutter had her brother awake and on his feet again, scowling and cursing, while another motion summoned a stepping disc to take them all back to the party.

Kitty just had time to sigh in carefully-hidden relief as they all reappeared in one of the -- fortunately empty -- back hallways of the Hellfire Club's headquarters mansion, when they all heard a sudden mix of screams and shouts.

Before any of the quartet could react, Jenny Stavros came running down the hall, stark naked except for a feather-trimmed red robe she clutched to her vividly-scratched breasts, mouth open in a wordless cry of terror as she fled stumbling from the werewolf growling and nipping at her heels. The only reason she was still on her feet to run at all was the giant lavender cat that kept tackling the furious pursuer, delaying her. A scarlet-faced, also well-scratched Sam Guthrie followed close behind, clad only in a pair of boxer shorts put on backwards, yelling, "Rahne, stop it! Leave her alone!"

A mostly undressed Jimmy and Dani appearing from a side hallway completed the crowd as, with a few negligent gestures, the young blonde sorceress froze Rahne with a spell, while her gigantic brother simply reached out a long arm and snatched up the embarrassed Cannonball by the scruff of his neck. Easily holding the lanky Kentucky youth a few inches above the ground even out at arm's length, the massive Russian started reading his captive the riot act. Red-faced with anger, Danielle was yelling both at Peter to let Sam go and at Illyana to let Rahne go, it was *her* job to handle them. Meantime, Proudstar had gathered up the hysterically sobbing Roulette in his arms, wrapping that silly excuse of a robe around her quivering form gently, while Doug was busy hugging and comforting a remorseful Catseye.

Marie-Ange came up then, barefoot, belting a dark-green velour robe she'd somehow made time to locate and don.

"Ok, what the hell happened this time?!" Kitty demanded impatiently.

"Jennifer and I were -- how shall I say it? -- 'extending our hospitality' to our esteemed visitor, when our overenthusiastic furry friends came bursting in the bedroom and joined us. The young werewolf apparently decided to take strong exception to some of our activities, and..."

Listening grimly, Kitty looked around at the latest chaos surrounding her, and sighed. 'It's going to be a *looong* night...'

Continued in Part 5 Graduation (the Hard Way)