DISCLAIMER:
Pryde and Wisdom, the X-men and Excalibur all are trademarks of Marvel Comics. DV8 and other Image characters all are trademarks of Wildstorm Studios/Image Comics. John Constantine and any other Hellblazer-related characters all are trademarks of DC/Vertigo Comics. This story is an unauthorized work done purely for my personal enjoyment, and is not intended to infringe on any of their rights in or profits from these characters. But this story is copyright to me.

WARNING:
THERE IS EXPLICIT SEX IN THIS SECTION. I marked this clearly in the individual section header. The sex is graphic, but mostly loving and consensual, except in this one section. If reading sex scenes would offend you, please don't read this.

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

Part 4 Hanging Out

After several days of eating together more than usual because of the visitors, it only took a few moments of brief discussion to come to an almost universal agreement to split up and do different things for dinner and the rest of the evening.

Xavier had already left for a long-scheduled meeting with Ambassador St. Croix, who happened to be passing through NY. Their rare personal meetings tended to last a while, as the Professor tried to extract every last ounce of potentially useful information from one of his major, if unadmitted, human allies. He preferred to keep his X-men in the dark on his so-called mutant underground, for security reasons, and had left strict orders not to be called or disturbed.

Scott and Jean invited Warren and Betsy to dinner at the boathouse. Warren was one of their oldest friends, and both spouses occasionally wanted to show each other that Betsy's (or Kwannon's) recent pursuit of Cyclops and Warren's longpast pursuit of Jean were forgotten and forgiven. It seemed only natural to invite Brian and Meggan also. Jean knew she and Betsy would have no problems while discussing wedding plans with Meggan, and Betsy figured that Brian would be quite happy complaining about life, the universe, and everything with kindred souls Scott and Warren.

The members of X-force had had such a good time the first night taking Rahne and Douglock out that Sam and Tabitha, Terry and Jimmy and Roberto all clamored to do it again. Shatterstar shuddered at the idea, and declared his intention of staying in and working out. Caliban looked a bit wistful, but nobody wanted the inevitable problems of inviting him along. After a muttered prompt from Siryn, Shatterstar offered to work out with the giant Morlock.

"Are you and Cable coming with us again, Domino? Or do you trust us out on our own this time?" There was a bit of a bite in daCosta's query.

"I had baby-sitting duty once already this week, that's enough for me," Domino responded calmly, raising an elegant eyebrow at his sarcasm but otherwise ignoring it. She turned to Cable. "And we've got a card game on this evening, Nate -- we decided that at breakfast this morning. I figured you'd be joining us."

"But someone responsible should perhaps accompany the group," Storm interjected, earning herself several dirty looks. "Nathan, if Domino has made other plans that she feels take precedence, you certainly should go out with them. I will be pleased to join you, to provide you some adult assistance and companionship." Ignoring Domino's other eyebrow rising to meet the first as Cable gave his longtime partner a somewhat harried look, she paused to look around the crowd making plans. "And, Peter, you really do need to get out more with friends. This is a perfect opportunity."

"Thank you, Ororo," Rasputin stuttered, obviously uncomfortable at having everyone's attention suddenly turned on him. "But I do not believe this would be an outing I would much enjoy." He glanced around the mostly younger crowd dubiously.

"Yes, you will, trust me, Peter." Ororo was insistent. "It will be much like the sort of ambiance you must have enjoyed while living in the city as Peter Nicholas. And perhaps some of the others would care to join us?" She glanced around, looking for support.

"Sure, sugah, sounds like fun ta me," Rogue agreed promptly, seeing a perfect opportunity to wear some of the new items she'd just bought that morning. "How about y'all, Cajun, Popsicle?"

"Gambit already agree dis mornin' t' play cards, like de lady say," bowing to Domino with a flourish. Going out in any group with Rogue was tempting, but Remy wasn't liking the game Storm seemed to be playing, as he'd told her the evening before, and didn't want to get caught up in it.

"Uh... well..." Bobby cast an agonized look at Gambit and Beast, then over at Rogue and Storm. Getting no help from any of them, he said hesitantly, "Well, I *was* going to play cards... but if you really want me to come along, I'd be glad to..." He looked back again contritely at LeBeau and McCoy.

"Henry?" Storm said enquiringly, but Beast promptly replied, "My everlasting gratitude for that gracious invitation, Ororo, but I consider it rather behooves me to provide some inadequate but sporting substitution for my welshing young friend here at this proposed gambling encounter." He smirked happily at Iceman's evident discomfort, white canines gleaming against midnight-blue fur.

"Hey, how 'bout ya, Bish? Wanna come out an' play?" Rogue asked the stiff figure standing in the background, teasingly.

She wasn't in the least surprised at his prompt refusal. "Somebody must remain here, on watch." His ponderous tones made clear his opinion of their frivolous plans.

"Kurt?" Rogue turned to him next. "Ah haven't had much chance ta visit with ya yet, fuzzy. This might be a good time ta catch up on news."

"Danke, Rogue." Kurt's suave bow outshone Gambit's earlier effort. "I would indeed enjoy the chance to visit more with you, but, alas, I must regretfully decline. However, I will go into town with you, if you will be so kind, for I am to meet Amanda for a late dinner in the city."

"Bring her along." Drake's eyes lit up at the idea of another lovely lady joining them.

"Nein, mein freund," Wagner laughed. "Amanda and I have been apart for a few days now. I prefer a quiet romantic evening for just the two of us, and I dare hope Amanda will share my preference."

"Will you not join us, Logan?" Ororo's tone was unusually winsome, although she didn't have any high hopes of persuading him.

"Sorry, darlin', I'm in the card game, too," he answered cheerfully, just as Storm had half-expected. "I been lookin' forward to it all day -- you just can't beat poker, beer and pizza for a real fun evening." Logan chuckled at her faint shudder, then hid his own frown at her next move.

"Kitten? You and your Mr. Wisdom will join us too, won't you?" Her tone was honey-sweet now, oozing sincerity with every word, while Kurt and Logan exchanged concerned looks.

Before Kitty could utter a word, Pete jumped in first. "Ferget it, your goddess-ship, no bleedin' way am I wastin' my evenin' gettin' drug around with you lot. 'Sides, like Dom said already, we got this card game set up."

Kitty sighed. She certainly agreed with Pete that a night out with Storm and Colossus, not to mention Tabitha and Roberto daCosta, was not high on her list of preferred activities. But she wished Pete had trusted her to refuse Ororo's invitation a bit more tactfully. And this was the first she'd heard of plans for a card game. Although she was thrilled that Pete seemed to be making some friends (or renewing old friendships, apparently, in some cases) among the X-men, Kitty had been thinking more along the lines of either calling Stevie Hunter and taking Pete to meet her old friend and dance teacher, or else a small, intimate dinner with Pete and Logan, to find out exactly how the two of them happened to know each other, before her curiosity ate her up completely.

"Well, even if your Mr. Wisdom insists on spending his time gambling rather than a pleasant evening getting to know your dear friends better, Kitten, there is no reason you cannot accompany us. Surely, you will not be participating in this male bonding ritual." That would obviously be an ideal solution, from Storm's viewpoint, quite preferable to having Wisdom come along.

Pete and Logan both opened their mouths, but Kitty jumped in first, before either of them could say anything. "His name's Pete, Ororo. And thanks, but I'd just as soon stay in and watch this card game. You never know, I might even learn something, and I'm sure I can find some way to keep myself entertained."

After the women had changed while the men whined about the delay, the large group going out finally departed. Caliban wandered away to the danger room, with Shatterstar in resigned pursuit, and Bishop left for a self-imposed patrol of the estate grounds with a final glare around the greatly diminished gathering. With the Summers, the Braddocks and their respective partners already down at the boathouse, the mansion seemed quite deserted.

"Let's go get set up in the den," Logan took charge briskly. "Go order up some pizza, Cajun, an' if you get anchovies again I'll stuff each an' every one down your craw personally. Just make sure there's enough -- the kid here might surprise you, how he can pack it away. Hank, you're on beer patrol -- y'know, too bad Drake ain't here, we'll hafta keep it cold the old-fashioned way, in the fridge. Dom, try 'n' find us some unopened cards the Cajun ain't got his grubby hands inta yet..."

"So, what are we, part o' th' bleedin' furniture?" Pete demanded belligerently, while Kitty grinned at Logan's take-charge attitude.

"You just think about how much you can afford ta lose, kid." Logan's voice softened from a rasp to a rumble when he smiled at Kitty. "Ya sure ya won't be bored, pun'kin?"

"I'll survive," Kitty laughed back at him, snuggling up to Pete's side. But, a short while later, she had to admit a night out on the town dining and dancing was starting to sound better and better.

There had been some conversation at the beginning, although she could have told Beast that another long-winded monologue on the evils of smoking was the last way to get Wisdom to drop a favored bad habit. The others apparently had also gotten tired of McCoy's lectures -- getting up to get beer, Logan had come back ostentatiously puffing on an enormous cigar, then Gambit had gone for more beer refills and come back with a pack of evil-smelling Gaulois. But it took Domino calmly lighting up a cigarillo to drive Hank away to his lab, muttering imprecations under his breath.

Then they got down to it, and the only sounds in the room were the rustle of cards being shuffled and dealt, the clink of chips being tossed out and raked in, and an occasional grunted "Fold" or "See ya, an' raise ya" or "I'm in", mixed with slightly louder exclamations of "Sod off!" and "Merde!" and the particularly menacing "Grrr!"

Kitty wandered around the room. She tried to study the cards, but got evil looks from the other players whenever she approached too closely. Wisdom didn't glare at her, of course, when she leaned on his shoulder to peer at his hand, but he was oblivious to her presence most of the time. His attention was on the other players. Logan and Domino were two of the best card players Pete had ever encountered even without Logan's enhanced senses or Domino's uncanny ability to have things fall out her way, and he also had the definite feeling that the Cajun's rapidly-moving hands bore closer watching than his face.

Kitty wasn't used to Pete ignoring her for long. A few more minutes, and she'd made up her mind. Saying briskly to the oblivious foursome, "I'll go get you all some more beer," she left the room for a few minutes to the accompaniment of a few grateful grunts.

Pete glanced up for a moment when she returned and set a fresh beer down in front of him with a definite clang. He froze, bug-eyed. Kitty had changed back into the skin-tight jeans and strappy high-heeled sandals she'd worn that afternoon, now with a loose sweatshirt, but some whisper of sound when she'd paused near him made him wonder if she might have that low-cut, black-silk top on underneath. He couldn't take his eyes off her as she moved around the rest of the table distributing more beer, hips swaying slowly. Then she came back around to stand next to Pete again, casually leaning up against him lightly. Taking prompt advantage of the deliberately-proferred opportunity, Wisdom ran his hand up her back under the loose top, a small motion kept out of the others' sight by her body blocking their view. A shiver raced along his own spine as he felt tight silk fabric smooth against his fingertips, while Kitty asked politely, "Will it disturb any of you, if I put on some music? I promise, I'll keep it soft and low." Interpreting Remy's nod, Logan's grunt and Domino's negligent handwave as permission, she moved away to start up a CD, and Pete shivered again to hear the same Sting album she'd danced to for him earlier that day, while stripping that sexy outfit off slowly.

Although they didn't know anything about what had transpired that afternoon, the others could easily see Kitty was up to something and sense Pete's inattention to the game. Domino arched an elegant black eyebrow at Wolverine questioningly, and received a feral grin in return. Wisdom was due for another lesson in the dangers of getting distracted, and Kitty might just learn something useful too.

The dance club was crowded, and it took a telepathic nudge from Cable to finally get them two small adjacent tables, which they shoved together. Chairs were a bit easier, snatched from several different parts of the large raised lounge surrounding the central dance floor. They quickly gave up trying to get the harried servers' attention, and the men took turns elbowing their way to the bar for refreshments.

Storm had dragged Peter Rasputin out onto the jammed dance floor once or twice, as had Rogue, and even Siryn once, but it was obvious Peter was not benefiting much from the raucous atmosphere of forced gaiety. He'd never enjoyed dancing -- he felt stiff and awkward, the music didn't speak to him and, in turn, he was never really in time with it.

During a quiet moment when they were alone at the tables, taking a turn protecting their tables and seats, drinks and snacks, from other customers, Rogue shifted over to sit next to Peter, asking him cheerily, "Why ya been so down, Petey? Seems like ya'd be happy ta be back home, first back with Kitty an' Fuzzy, now here with the rest o' us, just like the good ol' days."

"My home is gone, Rogue, together with my family." The usual note of bitterness was back in Colossus' voice, just as every time it was he felt his many personal tragedies being forgotten or discounted. "I cannot go home again, ever. There is nothing left for me."

"Ah'm sorry, sugah, A didn't mean nothin' bad. But ya still got your friends, Petey, which ain't nothin', not by a long shot. An' ya can still reach out ta people an' make new friends, maybe even have your own family someday, which some of us can't ever have." Her soft Southern drawl had started out soothing and apologetic, but sharpened gradually as she tried to remind Peter he was not the only one with problems in his life. "But, in the meantime, us X-men are still your family, an' Excalibur too..."

"But Katya has not accepted me back, yet, Rogue. She speaks to me, yes, and is polite, but she is still angry with me, inside." Peter was staring down into his beer, his hands absently twisting the glass around. Despite Ororo's disapproving frowns, he'd had a number of beers already, downing them like water, like his father had taught him to drink vodka, and the alcohol was making him admit some things he normally preferred not to face.

"F'r what? For goin' off in a big huffy snit with Exodus an' them Acolytes? Ya jus' need ta give her a little more time, Petey. Kitty's got a big, soft heart. Ya know she can forgive anything, sooner or later. Ah mind how she hated me at first, when Ah first came ta Xavier for help after runnin' with Mystique an' th' Brotherhood, as much or more'n any o' you, but we got past that, just like Storm got aroun' ta forgivin' me f'r attacking Carol Danvers an' absorbin' her memories and personality. If Storm an' Kitty an' th' rest o' th' X-men could forgive what Ah did ta Carol, Kitty can forgive ya anything. 'Ro an' th' others already have, an' Kit will, too, jus' ya wait 'n' see. Ya hurt her, takin' off at... the funeral like ya did, but she'll get past that."

Rasputin shook his head somberly. "It is more than that, Rogue. Yes, I would hope she understands how upset I was when I lost my little Snowflake, how I may have made some foolish decisions when I was not able to think. But there is more -- now she is angry with me because I had... a foolish misunderstanding with Wisdom when I first came to Muir." Some things even the alcohol wouldn't make him admit.

"Oh, well, if th' two o' ya had a li'l dustup, 't ain't no big deal. Kit'll get over that right quick, she's just a li'l overprotective of ol' Pete, look how she worries 'bout him 'roun' all us X-men." Rogue grinned, remembering how Kitty kept hovering around Pete possessively, although she did have to admit a few of the X-men had been less than welcoming. "But, ya know, Petey, it's actually kinda flattering t' a gal. Kit'll forgive ya soon 'nough, don't ya fret none, and things' be back ta normal. After all, y'all both got back ta bein' jus' good friends, back when y'all were both still X-men."

As Rogue paused, and took another sip of the mint julep Drake had proudly brought her earlier and that she'd been nursing carefully all evening, Colossus heaved a deep sigh, then emptied his beer with a gulp. He stared down into the empty glass, as Rogue went on, encouragingly, "In the meantime, sugah, don't jus' sit here cryin' in your beer. Get up an' party, try 'n' have yourself a good ol' time. 'Ro wanted ya t' come along so ya could get out, mingle, meet people, an' Ah think that was a swell idea. Try it, Petey, ya just might surprise yourself, an' like it."

"So how come the kid here hadda rescue you from them Magistrate goons, Dom? Th' both o' ya out there on some mission, an' ya screw up, or what?" Seeing a hint of a predatory gleam in Domino's eye, Logan dropped his pathetic hand of two pairs, just threes and fives, on the table and leaned back to watch the rest of the round being played out.

Gambit had not been privy to the danger room scenario Domino had played with Wisdom earlier, but his ears pricked up at the hint of a good yarn. Kitty was intensely curious about what had happened also. She knew Pete had had the session, and she knew he'd been upset by something about it, but they hadn't had a chance to talk about it yet. It had seemed more important to spend her time reassuring him after she'd inadvertently upset him during their loving that afternoon, and talk through why he'd been so freaked by her innocently-meant teasing.

"Nah, I was there all official like. Hadn't met 'er yet, jus' knew her rep..." Wisdom was trying to explain the least amount possible about that long-ago incident, while trying to study his opponents' faces and body language to decide if they could beat his four-of-a-kind. It wasn't easy, with Kitty standing just slightly behind Logan, where Pete could get a clear and close view. His fingers twitched unconsciously, just before he reached out and threw more chips in the pot.

LeBeau's eyes had widened earlier, when he first noticed Kitty's new jeans. But he'd switched his attention back to the game and the straight flush in his hand quickly, when Wolverine calmly popped his claws directly under Remy's nose with a growled "Keep them eyes ta y'rself, Cajun..."

"You don' know th' fair demoiselle in distress, but y' go t' rescue her anyway, neh? C'est romantique..." Wisdom glared at Gambit's probing implication -- all he needed to end this evening on a real low note was for Kitty to start wondering about his odd, old friendship with Domino.

"Don't be ridiculous, LeBeau." Domino's voice was amused, as she smoothly raked in the pot after showing her royal flush. "Wisdom was just being his usual charming, gentlemanly, altruistic self."

Pete winced at her smirk, her smug tone, and her removal of even more of his money. He couldn't drop the subject now. "Didn't have nothin' t' do with 'er, really, mate. Just no dam' way could I pass up such a bloody golden opportunity to rub some friggin' Magistrates' noses right in it..." Kitty had moved around behind Pete now, and he could feel her warm fingers tickling the back of his neck, inside his open shirt collar, making his breath come faster.

Logan had finished dealing, and Gambit threw in a starting bet way above the ante. After Domino had called, she asked idly, "But you never told me how you got in the armoury in the first place, and how you got out after you left me..."

"Didn't." Wisdom was triply distracted from studying the other players' reactions, with Domino's question, with deciding whether a full house of kings over sixes would get him back some of his losses, but most of all with Kitty's warm fingers moving up his neck to play with his ear, caressing the lobe gently, then running lightly around the rim.

"Quoi?" Gambit didn't know if the card game itself was more fun, or Kitty's game, or the game Logan and Domino seemed to be playing, but he was very happy he'd passed up Storm's invitation and stayed behind. Remy grinned down at his weak hand, a simple straight, concocting an elaborate bluff, even as he enjoyed the free entertainment.

Wisdom might have ignored LeBeau, but Kitty came around to his side, to stand pressed against his shoulder, and his arm came up under her shirt again to stroke the thin black silk covering her svelte back, and the soft skin above it, all quite unconsciously. She leaned into his hand as she asked in a curious tone, "What do you mean, Pete, you 'didn't'?"

"Didn't need to get meself out, that weren't part of the plan, see?" Throwing more of his dwindling chips into the pot, Wisdom went on, a bit sheepishly. "I was there all nice an' official, in Genosha, that is. So them friggin' Magistrates pissed me off once too bloody often, right when scuttlebutt had it they'd caught this great, big, evil enemy of th' state, an' I decided, sod them, if they wanted Dom', they couldn't have 'er." Pete winced noticeably, as Logan's straight flush beat his full house and took the pot, then grinned reluctantly. "Funny thing, too -- I suckered some o' them Magistrates, th' ones on duty at the entry, into invitin' me over fer a friendly little card game that night. Then, a mickey in the drinks, a little weavin' an' moanin' while I pretend t' pass out along with 'em, an' I'm on me own to go after this ungrateful witch here."

"Ungrateful?" Domino's voice had a hidden smile in it. "I paid you back, Wisdom, saving your skinny butt in New Delhi. Or do you mean, by any chance, my not letting you win now?"

"I mean, I finally make it down t' the friggin' cells, unlock the flippin' doors, get in t' cut 'er loose, an' the very first soddin' thing th' ungrateful twit says t' me is, she's gonna kill me." The grumbling aggravation in Wisdom's voice reflected his sinking fortunes at this card game as much as at his recollections of that long-ago first encounter. "I ain't even had a proper chance t' introduce meself yet, an' she wants me dead already." He'd stopped talking and sighed, as Kitty ran her hands caressingly inside his loosened shirt-collar and tie, to stroke the bare skin underneath.

"I thought you were those pigs coming back for another go at me." Domino grimaced at that particularly memory, then smiled. "And, after you got me loose, it didn't seem the time for social niceties. And you didn't exactly stay the proper English gentleman now, did you? You just dragged me down into an even deeper basement and dumped me into the sewer without more than two or three words..."

"It may have stunk damn bad, but sewers are usually the best way in an' out, Dom, you know that. The worse they are, the less guards want t' check them out." Pete tried to keep his eyes on Gambit dealing, not easy with Kitty nuzzling her face into his hair. He knew he couldn't really feel her lips, but his mind kept supplying the appropriate sensations.

"You t'row dis belle dame inta de sewers an' leave 'er?" Remy asked, smirking openly at his hand, then up at Kitty. "Y' be careful, p'tite, soun' like you' man don' understan' how t' treat a fine lady..."

"I had ta get back..." Wisdom snapped, glaring down at his miserable pair of fours. "...an' cover me tracks. Some gangs o' them free mutates had attacked th' armoury by then, an' alarms were wailin' all over. I got meself back as fast I could, drank a mickey I'd saved up separate, like, and passed out fer real with all them soddin' gits I'd been playin' with."

"So they assumed drugging the Magistrates at the entrance was part of the free mutates attack?" Kitty asked interestedly, almost forgetting her teasing in her fascination at hearing bits and pieces of this story, more determined than ever to hear the whole thing properly later. "And you were just an innocent bystander?"

"Right..." Wisdom grinned suddenly, a vicious baring of teeth far beyond any reaction the card game had gotten out of him so far. "Then, when I woke in th' soddin' infirmary the next day, I bitched an' yelled me bloody head off, that them friggin' Magistrates had drugged me ta cheat an' rob me. An', since that bleedin' card game were completely against rules, I figure me at least a few damn felchin' Magistrates are still in stinkin' quod somewheres..."

Nicole was bored. Bored, bored, *bored*.

She wasn't quite ready to make a move on Ivana just yet. All the ground work on the boys was complete, but the other girls were showing distressing signs of independence. And Ivana Baiul wasn't someone you went up against in a hurry, without a foolproof plan and hopefully some small mistake on the older woman's part providing an opening.

It had only taken her one session to break her brother Matthew to her will. Threshold might be their field leader and a powerful psychokinetic, but she knew him better than anyone else could; she knew that he was just a hollow weakling inside, easily dominated by Ivana, now just as easily dominated by his little sister. And the ease with which he'd succumbed to her pleasure powers had proven her opinion of him correct.

Hector and Leon were no problem, either. They were both powerful, and she knew she'd need them behind her. She'd been with each once, and expected that Powerhaus and Frostbite would do what she wanted when the time came. They were both terrified of her wanting them again, but she'd also been careful to show some girlish vulnerability around each so they'd sympathize with her as well.

Now Evo, never called Michael by anyone -- well, she'd never had him. But she bet she wouldn't need to go that far -- he was sufficiently afraid of her only from the others' stories. The dogboy would do anything Nicole wanted just to *avoid* her pleasure powers.

Copycat and Sublime were another matter. Nicole kicked herself. She'd missed her chance with Sublime, she should have sided with her when Rachel insisted on rescuing her missing teammate during that mission to steal the Japanese teleport system, after her idiot brother had ordered Copycat abandoned. After all, Nicole would find Copycat easier to control if she stayed a multiple, and Gem had actually begun to integrate her many personalities before the rescue had aborted the process. And, while Nicole expected she could easily take them both out with her pain powers, that didn't give Nicole the other girls' support against Ivana. Well, she'd just have to force herself to cozen the girls next. It would at least give her something to do.

In the meantime, she'd gotten sick of staring at the penthouse walls and the television and at her doped-up teammates staring at the same walls and television, and she'd come out to this popular new dance club to find herself a playmate for the night. But, now that she was here, even that enjoyable little chore didn't seem worth the trifling effort involved. After all, she could bespell any man here with just the briefest touch of her fingertips and the merest hint of pleasure, and they'd follow her anywhere. But they never lasted long, and Sideways Bob got mad about being asked to leave his precious Lucille to clean up the remains.

She'd been approached by a number of men already that evening, but none of them tempted her. Nicole had gotten a moment's amusement out of blowing away the young Latin American who'd tried to pick her up, with his stories of his father the rich Brazilian industrialist and his mother the world-famous archaeologist, but he was just as boring as everything else.

Then she spotted him, and the mere sight made her mouth water. He was at least seven feet tall, and broad and muscular to match. Thick, short black hair matched dark eyes whose exact color she couldn't tell from a distance. He looked like he'd be several years older than Nicole, but his chiselled face had an odd, soft, indeterminate look about it in the dim, wavering light.

He was in the middle of a large group, with that brash Latino, in fact. It was a fascinating group; there were two other men there almost as big, but the one who'd first drawn her eye so irresistibly had an air of naive childishness about him that suggested he'd be easy to ensnare. And, physically, he appeared to be one of the strongest specimens Nicole had ever seen, among humans at least. She bet herself smugly that *he* would last a long time, much longer than any of the others.

Up until now, Nicole had always been careful to limit herself to taking men who were cruising alone. But, she licked her lips hungrily, this one was too good to pass up. All right, she couldn't just bespell him right here -- his friends might get suspicious if he suddenly turned into a mindless zombie at her touch. However, she was young enough and lovely enough she should be able to get any man she wanted, even without recourse to her powers. She'd just have to try to convince him, and his friends, that he *wanted* to go home with her. And suddenly Nicole wasn't bored anymore.

She was the most beautiful girl Roberta daCosta had ever seen and, living with the X-women, his standards were impossibly high. She had long maroon hair glowing against pale white skin, and enormous eyes of the most incredible violet shade. Her curvaceous figure, carefully displayed by a slinky, black cocktail dress with numerous teasing cutouts, was the stuff of every man's dreams. And, in addition to all those physical charms, her small body had an air of delicate fragility, just begging for protection.

He'd tried to start up a conversation with her once already, without success. And then, by sheer accident, he got up to get drink refills and bumped into her, knocking her glass to the floor. "A thousand pardons, fair lady." He gave her his best debonair smile. "But it seems fate is determined to bring us together. Please, at least allow me to buy you another drink."

The girl looked around the table shyly, uncertainly, her hesitant manner a curious contrast to her appearance and dress. Bobby Drake stood up and bowed with a flourish and a friendly grin. "Yep, that's the least he should do, is go fight through the crowd at the bar to get you another drink, while you sit down and relax." He gestured at Sunspot's vacated chair. "Unless you're joining someone...?"

"Oh no." The girl's breathless voice was low, so they had to strain to hear it over the loud music. "I'm all alone. I just moved here to the city not too long ago, and I don't really know all that many people yet. I was hoping to meet some new people tonight, in fact, hoping to make some friends here..."

"Then ye can begin by meeting us." Siryn's high Irish lilt floated easily above the background noise. "A'm Terry, Theresa Cassidy." Going around the table, she pointed at each individual in turn. "An' this is Jimmy, James Proudstar, an' those two lovebirds be Tabitha Smith an' Sam Guthrie, an' next t' them is Rahne Sinclair an' Doug... err... Locke an' then... umm... Rogue an' Bobby an' Peter. Finally, Ororo Munroe an' Nate. An' the clumsy spalpeen gettin' ye another drink is another Bobby, Roberto daCosta."

"And I'm Nicole, Nicole Callahan." She smiled tremulously as she settled herself gracefully into the chair, crossing her legs and letting her skirt ride up, as if accidentally, to display the expanse of white thigh, then pulling it down clumsily, emphasizing the enticing view. "It's so nice to meet all of you. Have you lived here long?"

The conversation ranged over general topics for a while. Tabitha and Sam kept to themselves, still deep in the throes of their recent reunion. A bit miffed at how James Proudstar kept staring at their new companion, Siryn dragged Warpath off to help her teach Rahne and Douglock to dance. Sunspot and Iceman vied for Nicole's attention, as Rogue grinned at them both, daCosta flirting seriously but Drake's seriocomic efforts earning more response.

Cable watched silently as Sunspot told exotic tales of growing up in Rio, while Drake came up with humorous anecdotes of his adolescent trials in New York. Rogue contributed a few incidents of Southern childhood in Mississippi, including a long elaborate yarn about how she'd acquired her unusual nickname, after which Storm waxed eloquent on the beauty of nature in Africa. But the girl seemed most interested in Rasputin's stories of growing up on the collective farm back in Siberia.

After a long anecdote about his father once fixing the tractor when parts were hard to come by, Nicole sighed. "I feel I could listen to your stories all night, Peter." Seeing several skeptical looks directed at her, she hurriedly went on, glancing around at the others before turning back to Colossus. "You see, my parents came to this country from there, but they died while my brother and I were still very young. Now, hearing Peter's stories makes me feel like I'm getting a second chance to know my parents, my roots."

"Callahan doesn't exactly sound like a common Russian name." There was something about this girl that nagged at Cable, although he couldn't quite put his finger on what was bothering him.

"Oh, Callahan is just my adopted name," Nicole had to cover quickly, sensing the older man's sudden suspicion. "And they were wonderful to us. But our original family name is Baiul..."

"That sounds familiar, for some reason." Nathan wasn't just making conversation, he was raking his memory even as he noticed Ororo frowning in disapproval at his pointed questions.

He thought there was just a second's hesitation before Nicole let out a glorious cascade of trilling laughter. "You're thinking of the famous iceskater, of course. But I doubt we're related, although I'd certainly like it if we were. But, even if we are, it must be so distant that we'd probably never find the connection."

"But it is not impossible." Peter was intrigued by the suggestion. "Baiul is more commonly a Ukrainian name than a Russian name. And many Ukrainians relocated to the new collectives being started in Siberia, so your parents or grandparents may easily have come from the Ukraine initially."

Ororo was thrilled to see Colossus so involved in his conversation with their new acquaintance, relaxing as he relived happier memories of his childhood rather than being reminded of more recent and more painful events. Then she heard Nicole ask diffidently, "You know, Peter, I was just thinking... I wish my brother could hear your stories, too. I'll tell him, of course, but my repeating them just won't be the same as your telling them first-hand. I hate to impose on you, but do you think you'd be willing to come home with me, to meet Matthew, and share your stories of life on the collective with him as you have with me? It would mean so much to him, to us both, it would help us understand our lost parents..."

"Storm, that is *not* a good idea." Cable's sharp thought was full of doubt. He couldn't believe that Storm was looking so pleased at the unexpected invitation, almost as pleased as the flustered Rasputin. "We don't know this girl at all, we don't even know her address, or anything about her really, and something about her just doesn't seem right. At least, let me probe her first, and make sure she's on the up and up."

"Please, Nathan, do not be quite so paranoid." Ororo frowned at her concerned companion while continuing their mental conversation, knowing he'd stay in telepathic touch to hear her response even as he'd sent his protest to her silently. "Not everyone we meet casually is an enemy waiting to ambush us. And Colossus is quite safe with his steel strength and his steel invulnerability. But Peter needs to begin interacting with the world again, and this is a most promising start. Furthermore, this Nicole is quite beautiful. With any luck, Peter may decide he wants to paint her, and I have been hoping he would resume his painting again." She carefully suppressed any thought of her other hope, that Kitty might be jealous of someone else's interest in Colossus.

As Peter helped Nicole from her chair and followed her out, hovering over her small form protectively, Storm glared at the undisguised leer warring with frustrated irritation on Sunspot's expression. Terry and Jimmy were sharing grins, as were Rogue and Iceman, none of them believing in either the brother or her interest in Russian farm life, all convinced it was Peter's naively charming combination of athletic form and artistic sensibility that was his main attraction for her. While they were all silently congratulating Colossus on his luck, Tabitha was busy shocking Rahne, and Sam, with her answers to Douglock's questions. But Cable still looked worried, despite all Ororo's reassurances.

As Nicole led Rasputin out of the club, she slipped her hand into his, murmuring softly, "It's so crowded in here, Peter. I wouldn't want us to get separated, accidentally." Touching him made it easier for her to send out some low-level pleasure pulses, not great enough for him to consciously notice, just a pleasant, subliminal tingle to make him feel happy he was leaving with her.

Coming out into the clear night air, Peter looked down at her. She hid her satisfaction at the way his eyes widened, as if seeing for the first time just how much of her body was revealed by her minimal dress. "Should we not take a taxi? You may be chilled..."

"Oh, it's not far, Peter. And it's a pleasant night out, really. The air isn't chilly, it's just refreshing. I love New York at night, don't you? The lights give it such a magical air, compared to the harsh glare of day. Please, let's just walk, while you tell me more about your childhood in Siberia." Nicole hid a shudder as Rasputin began to drone on again, trying to tune him out while still making interested cooing noises, concentrating on keeping her power flowing at such an unnaturally low level.

She should have had Sideways Bob waiting with the car. But she'd wanted to be out on her own, and now she had the problem of keeping this big lunk ambulatory and under control until she could get him back home. Fortunately, he didn't seem to be showing much visible effect of all the alcohol he'd consumed, another advantage of his bulk. There hadn't been a good opportunity back in the club to sneak away and call the penthouse for a car, and she couldn't risk any nosy, gossipy New York cabby remembering them together. The very size that made Peter such a tempting target also would make him a memorable passenger, and Nicole knew she wasn't exactly a sight easy to forget, herself.

However, the more Peter drivelled on about his boring childhood on that appalling collective farm in the middle of absolute nowhere, the more she began to debate with herself if this really had been such a good idea, if he would really prove worth all her effort. Now that she had him in her grip, she couldn't help wondering if she shouldn't have tried for one of his companions, instead. That other guy, Jimmy, had been almost as big, and she couldn't remember ever having an Indian before -- it might have been an interesting opportunity to satisfy some of her more esoteric curiosity, about the reputed Native American stoicism and disregard of pain. And the older man with the group, Nate -- he was big, too, and there was an incredible amount of experience visible in those piercing eyes. But he'd seemed suspicious of her throughout much of the evening, and obviously hadn't been thrilled that this big booby had left with her. And that Terry seemed to be keeping a proprietary eye on Jimmy, while the unbelievably stereotypic blond hayseed, Sam, was that his name?, had seldom come up for air from his ditz of a girlfriend. The first Bobby she'd met was not only slight and puny compared to the three bigger and older men, but appalling, too -- she did have *some* standards, after all. But the other Bobby, while also a bit too small to be of much interest, she had to concede had been kind of cute in his own clownish way.

Nicole glanced up at Peter as they strolled along, and reassured herself -- she hadn't picked him for his brains after all, and the masses of hard muscle she could see and feel seemed to confirm he'd last for quite a while. He'd better -- after all, she'd worked hard for him. She smiled to herself in silent congratulation. She'd been right, after all, not that she'd ever doubted it; she could get any man she wanted, with or without her powers.

She let her hand slip out of his, as if accidentally pulled away by the passing crowd, and saw with considerable satisfaction that he reached out immediately to her, to reestablish contact, pushing aside a passerby quite roughly in his rush. Not that she'd had any doubt, but his haste just confirmed for her that the usual addiction to her pleasure powers had begun to kick in -- he was already craving more of her touch. She let him recapture her hand, not bothering now to act shy or coy, and resumed her gradual seduction of his entire nervous system.

Her smooth white forehead wrinkled just slightly, as a thought came to her. She really shouldn't have given them her real name -- his friends might report it to someone when Peter turned up missing, whether he was ever found or not. Then she shrugged. She could always claim he'd seen her home and then left. Bad things often happened to people in the city, and someone of his size and strength would be overconfident and could easily get himself into bad trouble. Besides, Ivana's money and contacts would protect her from any more detailed scrutiny. Regardless of all the animosity between herself and Ivana, the older woman couldn't risk Nicole spilling her secrets to the world. And Nicole had been very careful to hide away detailed information on a lot of those secrets in many different locations, such that they would all come out if anything happened to her.

They rode the elevator up to Ivana's penthouse, the security guards in the lobby waving them through without challenge once they saw Nicole. Upstairs, she lay her thumb on the doorlock pad, looked at the scanplate and announced herself, then pulled her half-dazed companion through the wide, steel bulkhead door. Rasputin didn't react much to either the high- tech security features at the entrance or to the luxurious surroundings inside. Unaware that he'd become accustomed to taking such an environment for granted both at Xavier's and at Muir, Nicole was a bit surprised by his calm acceptance, but quickly decided her continued low-level pleasure pulses must be combining with the alcohol to dull his thinking.

Pausing in the large and elegant marble-tiled entryway, they saw three young men sprawled down in the enormous living room pit, ignoring the music video playing on the enormous 50-inch tv monitor as they snorted lines from the round glass coffee table.

Colossus stared and shook his head muzzily, wondering if the alcohol he'd consumed was causing him to have trouble seeing. He was expecting to see a young man, yes, but one who somewhat resembled his new acquaintance, a young, sophisticated city dweller but, most of all, just a normal human. Instead, this trio matched anything he'd come across as an X-man.

The most striking of the trio was a young black man, big and muscular although nowhere near Peter's mass, with a blond mohawk running down the middle of his otherwise-shaved head, cut short on top but then spilling down his back in curly waves. The blond mohawk was matched by a short, blond, square-cut goatee covering his chin only, the rest of his jawline clean-shaven. He wore only a pair of tight black leather pants and boots, showing off blood-red tattooed lettering on his chest and arm and, Peter couldn't believe his eyes, on the side of his head, above his ear.

His two companions were both much smaller, slighter figures, next to him. One was a young olive-skinned Hispanic with a thick shock of black hair and a scraggly mustache and goatee, wearing a torn baseball shirt over equally torn jeans and filthy brown combat boots, who looked almost normal. But it was the third young man Rasputin stared at in surprise. Wearing torn jeans also, under a dirty t-shirt whose original design was too covered with stains to discern, he looked vaguely like a feral and emaciated Wolverine, with greyish skin, a deep five-o'clock shadow that couldn't be dignified as a beard or mustache, and lank, greasy, shoulder- length black hair. He had glowing green eyes with vertically-slit pupils like a cat's and pointed ears like Kurt's or Meggan's, and he exposed gleaming-white, sharply pointed canines when he glanced up as Nicole entered to smirk at her, "Hey, Bliss, got yourself a new playmate?"

"None of your business, dogboy." Her voice was hard, nothing like the soft, seductive tones she'd used so far that evening.

"What... what does he mean, Nicole? I thought you asked me to come home to meet your brother..." Rasputin's suspicions began stirring just as she lay a small hand delicately on his chest, slipping it through an opening between two buttons inside his shirt, to touch his skin. He was just beginning to wonder if her invitation to her home had some ulterior motive when Bliss sent out a massive jolt of pleasure so great it wasn't that different from pain through him, the glow of blue-white lightning around her fingers and palm visible even through the fabric of his shirt. It literally brought him to his knees as his leg muscles turned to jelly, all the blood in his body seeming to race to stiffen another portion of his anatomy to aroused hardness.

Nicole looked down at the figure at her feet, raising an eyebrow as she expertly judged the contents of the sudden bulge in his pants. "We can certainly ask my brother Matthew to join us if you really want, Peter, but I think he's probably busy doing something disgusting with dear Ivana. Trust me, though -- we'll have a truly wonderful time all by ourselves."

Her wide smile was obviously predatory now, as her tongue came out to lick at her full lips hungrily, and her expression reminded him suddenly, intensely, of his lost Illyana, not his innocent little blonde snowflake but the demon sorceress he still couldn't quite believe his young sister had turned into.

Bliss knew he was trying to fight his arousal and throw off her hold, to get up and out, and she simply stood there, enjoying the signs of his internal struggle. She didn't know that part of his mind was yelling at him through the thick haze of alcohol and pleasure to become invulnerable, to turn into living steel, to fight or flee, even as another part of him, stunned by the uncanny resemblance to his own sister, kept him mesmerized. After a minute of gloating, just as he began recovering from his momentary paralysis, Bliss bent over to lay her palm against the sweat-soaked skin on the back of his neck as he knelt on the floor at her feet, struggling to rise, and sent a second shock of pleasure through him.

As he collapsed again into a whimpering huddle, Nicole turned to the three boys. "You're all lucky he didn't manage to break away, or you'd have taken his place." Satisfied at their barely concealed cringes and flinches, she went on, "Now, you can all stay here and blow your pathetic excuses for minds if you want, but keep out of my way." Satisfied they were shocked sober and thoroughly cowed, Bliss smiled down at her new toy and cooed, "Now be a good boy, Peter, and come along," as she started toward her suite. She held her hand in front of him, a few inches from his face, her fingers glowing with the promise of still more unendurable pleasure, as she backed away down the hall. He slowly crawled after her.

Pete Wisdom couldn't make up his mind, whether he was in seventh heaven, or the deepest pits of hell.

Kitty was standing behind him, where he sat at the card table. Pete was excruciatingly conscious of the delicious fact that, if he just leaned back another inch or two, his head would be pillowed snugly in the soft valley between her breasts. Her small, strong hands were massaging his shoulders, with frequent interruptions to run her fingers teasingly along his neck or through his hair, all of which kept shivers racing up and down his spine.

Then he would look at the table, at the rapidly diminishing stack of chips left to him, and the growing piles in front of his three smirking opponents, and Wisdom knew he was in deep trouble. With this crowd, he needed all his attention for the game, and Kitty had no intention of letting him concentrate on anything besides herself. Pete realized she was just having a bit of innocent revenge on him, he knew he should tell her to stop teasing him, for just a little while, so he could recover his focus and recoup some of his unaffordable losses, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

LeBeau was chuckling quietly to himself at Wisdom's predicament. But, despite any sympathy he might be feeling, Remy considered all fair in love, war and poker, and he had no intention of going easy on Pete, especially with the example Logan and Domino were setting him. After all, Wisdom had obviously already won at love, Gambit thought a bit enviously, he didn't need to win at cards too.

And Logan and Domino weren't helping a bit. They were taking gleeful advantage of Pete's every lapse of focus, as well as further adding to his growing distraction by swapping stories of his past misadventures. Not full accounts, oh, no, they didn't go quite that far. Just tantalizing hints and references to Malta and Cyprus, to Nick Fury and Carol Danvers, to Madripoor, to Jenny Sparks, to Amsterdam and Hong Kong, to John Lynch and Michael Cray and Cole Cash, to a number of other places and a long litany of familiar and unfamiliar names. Just enough to whet Gambit's curiosity to know more. And Pete just knew that Kitty was storing up every single word, to question him about each incident later.

The card game went on and on, lubricated by beer, pizza and nicotine. As might have been expected, given her ill-defined but undisputed power to have things fall her way, Domino was the biggest winner. Logan and Gambit were ahead, if not as dramatically as the mysterious co-leader of X-Force, and Wisdom was deep in the hole. Wincing, Pete had just made up his mind that he had to somehow send Kitty away, just long enough to get himself out of the predicament he was in, when the others came trooping in.

Almost everyone quickly wandered into the den. Cable wanted to see the card game, and wasn't admitting he wanted to see Domino. Storm wanted to see Kitty, and wasn't admitting she shuddered at the thought of seeing Wisdom. Rogue kept assuring herself she just wanted to see Logan and Kitty and Pete, and wasn't admitting she wanted to see Gambit. Iceman wanted to see Beast, expecting him to be a player, and wasn't admitting he wanted to see how much his friend had won or lost. The others followed along, arguing cheerfully. Siryn and Jimmy, Sam and Tabitha had spent the entire trip home ragging Sunspot about Nicole preferring Peter, and had no intention of stopping now that they had arrived. Rahne and Douglock brought up the rear, together with a disapproving Bishop.

Domino looked up as they entered, glancing at her team rather than at Nate. "So, did you all have a nice time?"

Tabitha laughed, as did several of the others. "Some of us had a better time than others. Bobby here has his nose all out of joint, that any girl could prefer the Russian Chippendale hunk to him." She ignored Storm's glare. "I guess some girls go for real muscles, not fake charm."

Rahne had been silent the entire trip home, but she couldn't keep still any longer. "Ah dinna ken whether 'twere such a bonny idea, tae let Peter go off wi' that creature. Did ye no' see her wee bit o' a dress? Nae proper lassie wouldha' worn such a thing. She maun be a hussy..."

"Your comment suggests that that particular mode of dress signifies that our team-mate will spend his time with her engaging in inappropriate activities of a sexual nature?" Douglock hadn't really understood most of Tabitha's answers to his questions earlier, back at the club, and still wanted a clear explanation.

As Rahne sputtered in embarrassment at Douglock's blunt question, and Kitty and the cardplayers looked up suddenly in interest, Cable replied, "Actually, Rahne, Douglock, that is the way lots of perfectly respectable people dress now. But I do agree with you that I'm not sure letting Colossus go with her was such a good idea..."

"What'd ya do with the Russkie, Cable?"

Before he could answer Logan's growled inquiry, Storm entered the discussion. "I told you before, Nathan, not to be quite so paranoid. Not every casual acquaintance is hiding nefarious designs or secret agendas." She glanced at Kitty sideways, from under demurely lowered lashes, as she continued imperturbably, "I was quite pleased to see a nice girl like this Nicole Callahan be so interested in Peter and his life back home, on the farm."

Wisdom's hand jerked suddenly, knocking over his beer bottle and sending it rolling along the table, spilling a foaming mass on the table to soak the cards and chips. Before anyone could say anything, he'd jumped up and grabbed Kitty's arm, hissing, "I need a phone, now!" She took one look at his face, and silently led him out of the room without demanding any explanation.

Ignoring the beer spilled on the table and the visiting pair's hasty exit, Domino turned around slowly to face Cable, and Ororo standing next to him. "Did you say 'Nicole Callahan', Storm? And that didn't ring any bells, Nate?"

"Not really." From the appalled look on his partner's normally impassive face, he knew he had missed something important, but he still couldn't figure out what.

"How about the name, Baiul?"

"She did mention that name, when we were talking. She said that she was adopted and made a joke about how she probably wasn't related to the ice-skater even though her name used to be Baiul."

"And, even with that broad hint, you didn't figure out who she is? And you let one of our people leave with her?" Domino stared directly at Storm as she went on implacably, "I don't know where you're storing your brain these days, Nate, but you'd better go find it, and put it back in your head real fast. Try 'Ivana Baiul', not Oksana."

"Oh, hell. I really blew it, didn't I?" Cable closed his eyes, as he sent out a mental distress call to the small group still down at the boathouse. Storm was swiveling her head back and forth between the two of them, trying to follow the conversation. He carefully refrained from glaring at her with an 'I told you so' expression. "I *knew* something felt wrong, I *knew* there was something I should be remembering, I just couldn't figure out what."

The door opened, and Scott and Jean, Warren and Betsy, and Brian and Meggan all came rushing in, Scott demanding breathlessly, "What is it, Cable? You said there was a problem."

"We let Colossus go off with a super-nymphomaniac, is the problem." Cable's tone was bitter with self-blame. "Jean, you need to find him with Cerebro, so we can go after him." He ignored all the various startled exclamations at that, to concentrate on filling in his ersatz mother with a quick mental exchange. Then, as she hurriedly turned and left, he went on. "We met a girl tonight, while out at a club. She seemed nice, and quite interested in Rasputin's upbringing on the collective farm. She said it was her own heritage, but she didn't know much about it, so she was thrilled to hear his first-hand account and asked him home with her, to tell her more. But, as my partner has so tactfully just rubbed my nose in it, it was all a scam. And I should have known it -- she was even sure enough of herself to give us her real name, and I still missed it..."

"Missed what, Nathan? Is Peter in some kind of trouble or danger?" Storm demanded impatiently, but it was Domino who answered.

"Missed that Nicole Callahan is one of Ivana Baiul's current little group of deviants, part of a group of highly-powered teens that the former operative now turned mercenary has assembled for running her errands..." In the stunned silence, Domino went on, "...missed that her entire story she spun you is a complete pack of lies, and that her code-name of Bliss is a pretty good indicator of her powers. So, would you like to take a guess at what she wants your precious 'little brother' for, Storm?"

Before Ororo could answer, Jean came back in. "I couldn't find any trace of him, with Cerebro, in the area or as far out as I could scan."

"Too right, you couldn't." Pete and Kitty had followed her back in. "Ivana's got her place shielded, guaranteed, against psi-scans like that. But I got us an address." As the others stared at him in surprise, he went on, primarily aiming his next remarks at Logan and Domino and Cable. "First I tried all the channels Scicluna used t' use, whenever she wanted her fellow bitch Ivana to pull a job fer her, but none o' them panned out. Then, I started callin' around. Cash didn't have a fix on their current whereabouts. But he gave me Lynch's number, an' Lynch gave me a current address an' a quick rundown. No big changes, actually, since the last stunt they pulled fer Black Air. So we can go pull Comrade Rustbucket out."

While Ororo glared at his offhand flippancy, Domino raised an eyebrow at Wisdom, who gave her an almost imperceptible shrug in return. No way of knowing whether they'd be in time, until they got there. Pete firmly suppressed an almost-overwhelming desire to leave the wanker to his well- deserved fate, telling himself that Kitty would be upset if he let nature take her course, especially considering Bliss' usual course. Besides, she'd get even more upset if any more of her precious old friends got hurt by Ivana's crew while trying to rescue the plonker, which they would for sure if they just went blithely smashing in without a briefing or a plan.

Still disoriented and not liking the feeling of not being in control, Cyclops sputtered an automatic protest. "Is this really necessary? Maybe you're over-reacting, maybe there isn't really a problem here. We should wait for the Professor to get back, he'll be able to find Peter, even if Jean can't."

While his wife bridled at Summers' crass comment, Cable interrupted roughly. "Oh, there's a problem alright. And it's my fault, and we can't afford to wait for Xavier to get back to try to fix it, unless you happen to know how to contact him on this mysterious errand of his..."

Domino interrupted in turn. "Arguing about this is a waste of time, Nate, Cyclops." She turned to Wisdom. "So, how do we play this?"

As Cyclops continued sputtering, Storm and Bishop joining him in automatic protest, Cable backed his longtime partner immediately. "She's right, Scott. First, Colossus is part of Excalibur now, not an X-man. Second, Pete's got the most recent experience and information on what to expect."

"If it's Excalibur's business, then I should be in charge, since Wagner isn't back yet." Brian tried to join the debate, only to be firmly silenced by his sister and then soothed by Meggan, even as he was roundly ignored by everyone else jumping into the discussion. Wisdom tuned them all out, his every faculty totally concentrated only on the real problem at hand, the rescue, filtering out irrelevancies like bruised egos as he replied to Summers directly.

"We go in fast, in force, knowin' what we'll be facin'. It's a ritzy penthouse in mid-Manhattan, too many innocent bystanders fer your usual X-men blow-up-the-whole-friggin'-neighbourhood style o' business. See, if we're fast, an' organized, Ivana ain't stupid, she won't start a bleedin' allout war over one o' Bliss' boytoys." Pete looked around consideringly. "Dom, Betsy, Meggan, Rogue, Jean, Logan, Bishop. You're all in, I'll brief on the way. Everybody else, stay -- Nate, you can run followup if we muck it up."

As soon as he announced his roster, a howl of protest arose, led by Cyclops and Braddock, but joined by practically everyone not included in his list. Leaving them all to Cable to handle, Pete started to head for the door, only to be stopped by Rahne laying a hand on his arm hesitantly. "Please, A'm sae worried aboot Peter, please let me come an' help. A feel sae bad, A dinnae trust tha' hussy, but A dinnae say naught agin' her."

Once in mission mode, Wisdom resented every delay, and started to refuse her, curtly. Then he looked down into her pleading face, and was surprised to hear himself say instead, "Right then. You can come too." He started to leave once again and then stopped himself, wheeling around to confront Kitty who was dogging his heels. "An' just where the bloody 'ell do you think you're goin', Pryde?"

"With you, wherever the hell you're going, Wisdom." Kitty shot back.

"Not a good idea... Don't need you this time..." Pete floundered, trying to discourage her without telling her he didn't want her to live with the probable sight of her old friend, stupid sod though he was, dead of multiple orgasms in Bliss' bed. But Kitty had her own agenda.

"Yes, you do need me," she insisted, "to watch your back if nothing else. What if you start to pry Peter off this psychic bimbo and he goes nuts and takes after you again? I need to come, to make sure you're ok, to make sure he doesn't hurt you again, or worse. At least, if I'm there, I can phase you out of his way..."

They both ignored the renewed clamor of questions about an incident still kept confidential from most of the X-men, as they stared into each other's eyes, until Wisdom simply nodded and said, "Let's go, then." But several of the observers noticed Scott and Jean just as silent and unsurprised as Brian and Meggan, and Rahne and Douglock, and promised themselves silently, "Tomorrow..."

They decided to take two vans. Logan drove one, with Jean beside him and Rogue and Bishop sitting behind them. Domino drove the other, with Betsy next to her, Kitty and Pete behind them, and Rahne and Meggan in back. Jean and Betsy kept everyone in the two vehicles in contact as Pete described what they would encounter.

"Ivana, she's a long-time op, plays all sides an' looks out only fer herself. No powers, but she's got herself mechanically enhanced. Dom, she's your soddin' problem, you'll know what to be on th' lookout fer."

"Ivana's boytoy an' field leader's Matthew Callahan. He's Bliss' brother, Threshold he calls hisself. Bigtime psychokinetic, even bigger ego -- hard t' miss the wanker, he's got this flippin' red lightnin' bolt tattooed over his eye... Their other psi is a little red-haired girl, Gem Antonelli. She goes by Copycat, an' she can take over your mind an' make you do any friggin' thing she wants, includin' off yourself. Jean, Betsy, you divvy them two up how you like, but you watch yourselves. Threshold, he'll likely go completely friggin' loopy if we hit on his little sister. Copycat is barmy, too, all the time -- she's a multiple. Try an' keep Gem or one o' the others in charge, just don't let 'Soldier' take 'er over."

"Rahne, they got this bloke, Michael Heller, Evo they call him, looks like a bloody cross between a boy an' a dog -- go wolfen an' get him down, fast. Rogue, you take Rachel Goldman, Sublime she calls herself. She's this tall blonde, wears blue lipstick, has..." Wisdom was about to say, 'enormous knockers', as a handy identifying characteristic, but caught a glimpse of Meggan in the rear-view mirror, and changed that smoothly to "...the power t' change 'er mass. She can go super-thin like gas, but usually prefers t' go super-solid t' fight, makes 'er super-strong an' soddin' near invulnerable."

"What about me?" Bishop interrupted Pete impatiently, still somewhat surprised he'd been included without having to argue the point.

"You look for a big, young bloke, near as big as you, black skin, blond hair. Name's Leon Carver, calls hisself Frostbite. He can pull th' bleedin' heat from all aroun' hisself an' shoot it back out. So, he tries t' blast, you intercept, absorb an' return in spades. All right, then?" Bishop simply nodded in satisfaction, pleased with his assignment.

"Logan, you take the last bloke. Real name's Hector Morales, goes by Powerhouse or some suchlike. I know 'e don't look like much t' start, just your average Hispanic, nothin' y' couldn't eat up an' spit out in a bleedin' second, but he's got a trick, too. Absorbs emotions from anybody aroun', 'specially bad vibes, an' turns it into muscle. So he can grow real big right quick, an' he can keep pullin' more an' more strength in t' 'imself, s' long as there's emotion anywhere 'round him." Wolverine just shrugged, and Wisdom refused to worry about him -- he knew Logan would be just as happy if his opponent could keep the fight going for a long while.

He turned then, to face toward the back of their van. "Meggan, I was goin' t' have you on Evo, until Rahne pushed in. But I need you fer more important stuff, anyway. First, like I just said, this Powerhouse bloke absorbs emotion t' get power, so you try your damn'dest t' keep everybody calm when we go in, on both sides. Second, Bliss' touch's supposed t' be addictive -- we may need you to help get Comrade Terminator loose o' her."

"Ok, now here's the plan..."

It was a clear night, and the myriad lights in New York drove the hovering darkness away to lurk in shadowed corners. They parked the two vans a short distance from the address they sought, midway between two lamps, and walked over to the side of the building. Wisdom had insisted everybody stay in their street clothes, claiming there was no time for them to change into battledress but also hoping silently that regular clothes would subconsciously help them remember to cause minimal damage.

Wisdom waved Kitty forward. "Ok, Pryde, Betsy, you go first. Take out the lobby guards, then make sure you knock out all the alarm systems without triggerin' any. Need help?" Psylocke simply ignored his question disdainfully, while the only answer he got from Kitty was a long-suffering 'trust me' look, as the two moved ahead silently. He shrugged after her apologetically, knowing she'd understand his adrenaline rush, she shared it, after all.

The others all felt like they had been waiting forever, but it was only a few moments later that Kitty stuck her head out one of the wide, glass, double entry doors to motion them inside. She'd already jimmied the controls on the one elevator that went up to the penthouse, and they piled inside. Fortunately, it was a large and luxurious elevator, and even then they all barely fit.

At the top, the elevator door opened to reveal a large foyer, unimaginatively decorated with wide wall mirrors and abstract statuary, and a glistening expanse of white-tiled floor. Opposite them was an enormous steel bulkhead door, obviously not part of the standard decor. Without waiting for any instructions, Kitty phased through the wall next to it, passing through the electronic doorlock and disrupting it, so that the door opened suddenly

Rushing inside, the first sight to capture their attention was three young men lounging around in the cavernous living room pit. Any sanity Bliss' earlier passage might have briefly induced in them had quickly passed, as they'd switched to mainlining even more coke to dampen their memories of her threats, and they were all wired high again. Seeing intruders but hearing no alarms, they hesitated for just an instant too long before reacting, as they tried to decide if the newcomers were real, or drug-induced visions.

Wisdom had explained his plans and their targets carefully and in detail. As ordered, Rahne shifted into her wolf-form and had Evo flat on his back in a flash, jaws around his throat just tight enough to let him feel her teeth, a growl rumbling deep in her chest with her worry about Colossus. Evo struggled for just a few seconds but, reminiscent of two animals sparring for dominance, he quickly realized she had the greater strength and better position, and he relaxed into a nonaggressive stance without further resistance.

Since his own two companions weren't good sources in their current condition, Powerhaus had tried to draw emotions from the intruders, to accumulate enough power to fight. But he was surprised to find very little to draw on in this oddly calm little group. Hector hesitated for a fateful second, not wanting to reach out to his own teammates and draw off any of Bliss' emotions. Then, before he could pull his thoughts together and leech off of any of the others in the penthouse, Wolverine had knocked him out in passing, before Morales even realized that Meggan's empathic powers were suppressing and masking the invaders' feelings and concerns.

Wolverine took out the young Hispanic almost as an afterthought, his attention primarily concentrated on the huge bald man who'd come rushing out of a side room. All Logan's instincts screamed that this guy was a lot more dangerous than any of the kids Wisdom had described, powers or not. His one remaining eye revealed a ruthless wealth of experience and an eager willingness to do anything required, and enjoy it. However, he was slightly handicapped by a store mannequin's head he clutched by its long blonde hair in one hand. With surprise on his side, the much shorter Wolverine had Sideways Bob pined against the wall, fist under the taller man's chin, two claws extending on either side of the man's scarred face while he growled menacingly, "Want me t' pop th' middle one, too, bub?"

Wisdom took a deep calming breath, his blood racing and singing at the action, and spared a second to be grateful for Logan's speed and instincts. He hadn't known about this new guy, only about the kids, and hadn't planned any counter for him. And the big git certainly looked like he could have thrown a major spanner into this rescue effort, given any chance at all.

None of the other antagonists flinched at either the sudden chill or the subsequent blasts when Frostbite pulled in enough ambient heat to let off a massive blast at the newcomers, which Bishop promptly threw himself in front of, absorbed and sent back, knocking Leon sprawling all akimbo in the middle of the entertainment pit, the blast smashing the coffee table and the tv monitor as well. The time-displaced X-man followed up on his advantage immediately, holding Carver down where he could immediately feel and absorb any future power buildups.

The hubbub had brought Sublime running out from her suite, Copycat following behind more timorously. It took only one quick glance around for the tall blonde to decide to free Frostbite first, as the most useful fighter. However, just as she went super-dense and threw herself at Bishop, Sublime was knocked aside by Rogue's flying tackle. She quickly turned tenuous and escaped Rogue's grip, but found herself grabbed by the skunk-haired X-woman every time she tried to solidify to be able to fight.

Meanwhile, a trembling Copycat stood in the hall door, initially paralyzed by her personalities warring about who would be best to take over. Just as Soldier was succeeding in browbeating all the others down, Betsy slid into Gem's mind, blocking Soldier's every effort to take over even as she tried to comfort and strengthen the core personality, little Gemma. It was immediately obvious to the sensitive British telepath that Gem herself did not particularly enjoy this lifestyle, but felt she had no other options. But, no matter how much Psylocke tried to convince the younger girl that the X-men could help her, Betsy knew with a heartfelt pang she couldn't win the girl's trust quickly enough to get her away.

Just as things got suddenly quiet, a deadly cold voice came from the hallway. "Did somebody decide to have a party, boys and girls, and forget to inform the hostess? Haven't I taught you better manners than that?" Glancing up, they saw a woman staring down at them imperiously. She was short, with lustrous black hair slicked back from her face and flawless white skin that made her appear ageless. And a lot of that skin was on display -- she wore a harness of black leather straps that was tight around her opulent breasts and waist and hips, and nothing else except long black leather gloves and thigh-high black leather boots.

A much younger man stumbled along behind her, his condition making it blatantly clear what they'd been interrupted doing. Blond and muscular, he wore nothing at all, except a vivid red lightning tattoo over one eye. He began to sputter questions, but Ivana Baiul pushed him back with a negligent gesture and went on, staring at Pete, "Oh, how nice, Michele's little traitor-boy, come to pay me a visit... You know, Wisdom, I had a bad feeling about you, I even tried to warn her, but she wouldn't listen, she was so sure you'd never be able to make the break..."

Even though he knew she was needling him deliberately, Pete still bristled at her comments. "Yeah, right, like you didn't soddin' take off an' sell out your old bosses back in friggin' IO your ownself..."

"I took their money and resources, I took their test subjects, but I didn't obliterate them like you did Black Air." Ivana looked around. "And what are you doing here, now, with this motley crew? One of my erstwhile friends or employers hire you to take me out as well?"

Silent and sudden, Domino was next to Ivana suddenly, pressing the barrel of her gun against the other woman's throat. "Enough games. Your little pet Bliss took one of our people tonight, and we want him back."

"I have absolutely no idea who or what you might be referring to. And I make a point of not interfering with Nicole's little games, as long as she does not interfere with mine." Ivana glanced at her own boytoy, Bliss' brother Matthew Callahan, with a lascivious leer. But, as Domino simply pressed the gunbarrel deeper into her skin without a word, Ivana shrugged nonchalantly, waving at the hall behind her in mute permission. "Relax, children. Bliss' toys aren't worth fussing over."

Wisdom had to admit to himself reluctantly that he had underestimated the others' battle discipline. They could have all rushed off immediately to find Rasputin -- this close, Jean and Betsy could both easily feel his thoughts, and Rahne and Logan both could smell his tracks. But they all moved forward slowly, keeping watchful eyes on their designated targets, a white-faced Meggan leading the way, summoned by a big beacon of raging emotion tearing at her senses just a short distance away.

Meggan stopped at the door, trembling at the feelings being projected so strongly from the room. Wisdom stepped inside, with Kitty still glued to his side as she'd been all along, followed by Domino and Ivana, Matthew and Jean, the others outside in the hall with Betsy nearest the door.

They saw a wide bed in the center of the room, covered with satin sheets, with an enormous gilt-edged mirror above it. Peter was indeed in the bed, naked, his clothes lying on the floor in shreds where Nicole had cut and tore the fabric away. His arms were up over his head, his wrists bound to the headboard with an assortment of Nicole's collection of trophy ties, which she kept as mementos of her victims. They could see his chest heaving with each panting breath, the movement highlighting the bright red blood on his face, neck and chest, the tracks indicating it originated as massive nosebleeds.

Nicole was seated on him, straddling his hips, riding him, turned with her back to his face and her own face staring out blindly over his legs toward the door. She wore one of her favorite playsuits, sheer black nylons held up by a garter belt, with a matching bustier, both made of blood-red silk like her hair, black lace trim highlighting the white skin underneath. Her lover wasn't in any shape to appreciate her dressing up, but it helped put her in the right mood for fun and games.

As soon as she saw them all, she leaned back, supporting her weight by placing her hands on Peter's sweaty and bloody chest, and said calmly, "Take another step, and he's dead meat. You know I can kill him before any of you can stop me. But, if you're nice and let me play until I'm done, he's big enough and strong enough he just might survive and you can have him back." Smirking in self-satisfaction, she continued to rock her hips up and down on him, sure that she had the upper hand.

But Pete had planned for this also. At a subtle signal, just a glance, Betsy reached into Peter's befogged mind and triggered his change into Colossus. Bliss found herself suddenly coming down on an unyielding steel shaft, and screamed in shock and pain. She jerked up and scrambled off frantically, ungracefully, slipping down from the bed onto the floor.

Despite his frequently proclaimed dislike of his sister and disdain of her sybaritic erotic habits, Threshold reacted instantly and blasted out indiscriminately with his psychokinetic powers. But Jean had been waiting for just that, and deflected his blast back at him, trapping the stunned youth in a telekinetic bubble.

The rest of the impromptu rescue squad expected the fight to break out once again at that, but the other youths all smiled at the Callahan siblings' discomfiture with smug aplomb. Sublime and Frostbite both hung back, pantomiming shrugs indicating no intention of resuming the battle. Powerhaus and Evo and Copycat drew near them, and away from Bliss and her brother and her bed and its contents, nodding agreement to maintain the truce.

Ivana stared around in disgust, first at her five reluctant warriors, then at Sideways Bob still pinned to the wall outside by Logan's claws, finally at Threshold and Bliss, both collapsed on the floor in whimpering huddles. "Take him, then, and get out, all of you, and don't come back."

At a gesture from Domino, Rogue came in, easily snapped the bars where Peter's wrists were still tied, and lifted him up in her arms without any obvious effort, wrapping one of the silk sheets around him. Betsy triggered his change once again, back to flesh. He was quiet, apparently unconscious. Rogue cradled him gently, wondering with a guilty pang how much her conversation with him earlier that evening might have contributed to his going with Nicole. With Betsy scanning ahead for surprises and Jean monitoring Ivana's gang for possible sneak attacks, Pete led Kitty and the others out, Rogue and Peter in the center of the group with Rahne and Meggan hovering protectively nearby, Domino and Logan and Bishop all watching their rear.

Fortunately, nobody in the streets questioned their passage. New Yorkers may have become sensitized to colorful costumed superheroes and supervillains battling destructively, but they ignored a quiet group on the sidewalk, no matter how odd-looking or suspicious. Wisdom silently congratulated himself at refusing to wait for them to change outfits -- he just *knew* these wankers' spandex suits constricted their blood flow and impaired their judgement, and events seemed to prove him right.

It took him a moment to convince Rahne to ride back with Logan and Jean and Bishop, and even longer to convince Rogue to stay with them, leaving Rasputin in the other van with Domino, Pete and Kitty, and Betsy and Meggan. It was Betsy and Logan who spotted something in his face, and prompted the others to cooperate. But Kitty refused, no matter what he said, and he gave in rather than explaining.

They were out of the city proper and just beginning to relax as they headed into Westchester on a deserted state highway when Rasputin regained consciousness. Without any warning, he transformed himself to steel and smashed through the rear door to leap out and begin a stumbling run back toward the city. Domino braked instantly, Logan in the other van reacting immediately also. Meggan and Rogue flew after Colossus and caught up to him easily, but bringing him back was another matter. Peter was yelling incoherently, and flailing around with his arms with no regard for who or what might be in his way. Jean flew to join them, trying to restrain him telekinetically, from a safe distance.

As everybody else piled out of the vans and ran to the struggling group, Wisdom panted, "Bloody hell, I hoped we'd make it back 'fore the stupid plonker woke up an' went all barmy on us... An' I didn't expect him to smash his way out o' the friggin' van..."

"What is wrong with him?" Bishop's suspicions were all resurfacing.

"Bliss' power is addictive, physically addictive, very quickly." Domino explained as they reached the others. "He's in severe withdrawal, desperate to get back to her for another fix, just like any other addict."

"Meggie, Bets," Pete interrupted her explanation, "try 'n' get into his mind, see if you can find all the friggin' bits she mucked with an' cut them out, or put them right, or whatever the soddin' hell it is you do..."

Meggan stared at him in mute incomprehension, while Betsy nodded, understanding instantly. "Meggan, I need you to try to simulate Bliss' power, but at a low, controllable level, so I can trace the hooks she sank into the pleasure center of his brain and try erasing them while they're still in relative flux in short-term memory, before they have time to take root."

The gentle empath shook her head with a shudder of distaste at the idea of trying to duplicate such a vicious power, stepping back until stopped by Rahne's pleading, "Please, Meggan, if ye can help him, please do whatever ye can..."

Continued in Part 5 The Root of All Evil
Reality intrudes as the topic of money rears its ugly head