Disclaimer: All My Children rightfully belong to Agnus Nixon and ABC.  For some strange reason, Marvel holds the rights to the X-Men.  This story is copyright by Denise Keppel and is a part of the Facing The Music series, which can be found on Luba's page at http://home.att.net/~lubakmetyk/xmen1.htm#denise .  Post on your page without permission and I'll come up with a Deadpool with PMS way to get you back.

     The Christmas music seemed out of place in the hospital snack room, its joyous message mocking the pain that was being poured out over a cup of dark, hot caffeine that vaguely resembled coffee. "Things don't look so good," Trevor continued.  "All the tests, all the treatments, and that's my little girl in there, and I can't stop the pain...." Pete held his tongue, knowing that silence was the best thing he could offer his old friend.  They had met back when his career with Black Air had brought him in contact with nearly every merc in the business.

     But, like Pete, Trevor had left the old life behind as best as one could.  Trevor had gotten married a couple of times, raised a couple of kids, and even become a pillar of the small town of Pine Valley, practicing a more expensive form of his old trade in his new job as a lawyer.  His daughter Amanda, the only ankle biter that Pete would confess to liking, had been diagnosed with leukemia a few weeks ago.

    When he had discovered the news, Pete flew over to visit after getting Moira to see what she could dig up on treating the child's disease.  Amanda's long blonde hair had fallen out, and her bright spirit had been sapped, turning her into an old woman lying in a hospital bed.  Her mother, Janet, had eyes that glittered with tears she refused to spill, and lines had started to grow around her face.  Trevor had a locked down expression Pete had learned to associate with people who had seen too much too fast.  Feeling that a trip to the bar would be inappropriate, not to mention exposing Trevor to too many people, Pete dragged him down to the break room for a few minutes.

    "It was so much easier in the days that I didn't care, you know?  That I'd land somewhere, go in, kill people and come out covered with blood.   Then I didn't feel ashamed of what I did.  I didn't feel anything." Pete didn't buy that Trevor hadn't felt, as a merc.  Their first meeting blew that theory away.

     Pete and Trevor had met on Genosha, during one of the bloodiest times that nation had known.  Trevor had been hired to stop the 'illegal exporting of valuable goods'-- also known as mutates fleeing the island-nation.  Once Trevor had discovered he had been used, he helped Pete, Domino and Cable turn the tables on the government in a moment so wonderfully brilliant it was best savored over a round of whiskey and a campfire.

     Pete clasped Trevor by the arm, almost as if he was trying to loan him some strength.  "But now, I have Janet and Timmy and Mandible....  I feel deeply...  I promised Nat..." Trevor's thoughts made sense only to him, but Pete didn't care.

    The song talking about comfort and joy turned into one about a toy land, as Trevor continued, "And I'm getting real pressure to get my hands on the Eco-Geckos... Good luck finding them.  I spend every moment at the hospital or at work—God, I don't want to think about how much this is going to cost.  Janet's got a cot set up in the hospital room and stays with Amanda all the time.  I've asked everybody I could think of, people from my old life even, but no one can locate a single Eco-Gecko, much less the three of them..." Trevor sat back and took a sip of the bitter drink in his hand.  It wasn't hot anymore, but at least the coffee kept him awake.  "All this, and I've got to find them."

    Finally, Pete realized, he had a way to help his friend.  The piped-in Christmas music played on as Pete mentally made plans to have Kitty and Rahne go track down the Eco-Geckos the old fashioned way.  If that failed, Logan and Gambit, also old friends of Trevor's, would help get the lifelike androids capable of cutting pollution, saving the rain forest, and cleaning the waterways in a blink of the eye.

***

    Two days later, Rahne snapped at Pete, "Do ye think that A'm such a simpleton that A've overlooked a single source?"  She sat down, exhausted, and kicked off her shoes.  Rubbing her tired feet, she continued with "A've checked every possible place in New York City!"  Having enlisted Meggan, Jean, Betsy and Rogue's help, the five had exhausted the northern seaboard.  "An' if'en ye can't find it in New York City, ye can't find it anywhere!"

     If'en? Pete thought with a slight grin. Sam's accent had worn off on her.  Rahne continued.  "And Paige went tae Atlanta just in case, and Jubilee-- bless her heart --had a lead on the Eco-Geckos and went to Panama City Beach.  Someone broke her arm jist for comin' too close tae one.  Emma's even pulled strings right and left... Trust me, there are nae a one Eco-Gecko on the street!"

     Kitty rubbed her eyes and blinked at Pete.  "I've done my best."  And like Rahne, Kitty's best was something extraordinary.  "Every lead I got online has fizzled out... You could buy the president, his cabinet and half the senate before you'd could afford to buy the Eco-Geckos."  The computer screen added a faint glow to an otherwise exhausted face.

     Pete sighed.  "Plan two," he decided.

**

    Logan, Remy, and Pete stared at the blueprints secured from the Hastle plant.  "This place is going to be harder to get into than a nun's bed..." Logan spat out.

     "Dat be a low blow, mon ami," Remy objected.  "Gambit not know she be a nun 'til after he slept wi' her!"

     Pete turned to the Cajun, sighed, muttered an expletive and turned back to the plans.  When it came to that man's love life, the only thing that would surprise him would to hear a story about Remy and a dead, transvestite sheep.  And even then, if Pete heard the words 'drunk' and 'blindfold' included in the story, he'd be more than a little inclined to believe it.

     "This is the headquarters, so to speak, of the Eco-Geckos."  Pete explained.  "Aqua-nut is in the left wing, and I'll be going after that him."

     "Aqua-naut?"  Logan chuckled as he read out the other names of the team members, "Recycle Renee and Baron Banana?  And I thought mutants had the worst code names!" He held up the pictures of the two and grinned, noting an odd but uncanny resemblance to two people he knew, one of which actually did carry around guns bigger than himself.

     Pete looked him over and corrected smugly.  "Some mutants, maybe..."

     "Whatever, Deathfinger," Gambit said as he picked up the folder on Baron Banana and put it down, carefully avoiding the Look Of Death that Pete was giving him.

     After a moment, Pete nodded and showed the other two a group picture of the three.  Between the purple/pink/green outfits and the dubious accessories that the three carried, it was hard for the mutants to imagine how the Eco-Geckos could strike fear in the hearts and minds of polluters.

     "Recycle Renee?"  Gambit murmured as he read over the mission data.   He'd have no problem getting in and out of the base, if need be.  But, he was feeling a little lazy and there was no need working up a sweat if he didn't have to.  Unless, of course, it was the kind he was best at creating.  "Gambit go get de girl."

    "Surprise us, why don't you?"  Logan asked as he read over the schematics for the location that Baron Banana was kept.  "This is messy..."

     Pete nodded.  "And remember this—simple in, simple out.  Nothing fancy, nothing that would draw attention to a break in."  The three nodded.   "And Logan—no killing."

     Wolverine nodded slowly as he slipped on his mask.  "I ain't responsible for my actions if I run into Barney in there."

     "Barney?"  Pete asked, not able to place a name with a face.

    "Don't ask," Gambit shuddered. "Please don't ask...."

**

    Kitty and Pete stood, phased, in the middle of the hallway, quickly and quietly making their way down to the location of Aqua-naut.  "What are you going to do if you can't get him here?" she asked him.

    Pete shrugged.  "I ain't gonna think about that 'orrible possibility until I have to."

    "It's sweet, you know...  Doing all this just for an old friend."  Kitty had heard Pete on the phone, trying to get a loan from his friend John.

    "I owe him... Trevor saved my life."  Pete tried to explain away his actions as something other than a deed done purely for friendship.

    Kitty nodded, acting as if that was all to it.  Pete's heart was like an onion, layers on layers.  He carefully hid what most people would be proud of, sheltering it as if he was afraid that letting others know what they meant to him would mean that he would lose them.  "You never told me how you two met," she prompted him.

    "He got the drop on me and broke my nose."  Pete chuckled.  "I hot knifed him... let's just say it's a wonder he was able to have Amanda."

    "Break your nose, be a friend for life?"

    "Break a nose, bring a twit to his knees, save Dom from a firing squad, and manage to get Cable in a tutu and then he's a friend for life."  Kitty laughed so hard at the mental image she nearly dropped his hand.

    Pete caught her hand just in time.  "I'm not lying."

    Kitty stopped and froze, letting Pete know that their prey was just beyond the door.  Together, they managed to get Aqua-naut quickly and easily.

**

    Remy's intended weapons of choice had been roses, candlelight, and soft words. Rumor had it that if Recycle Renee could be found, it would be found at her publicist's, Jackie Smith, apartment. First, he traced Jackie to a country-dance club. He groaned, having the opinion that country only appealed to pre and post Prozac people, those who liked being down in the dumps or up on cloud nine.  Proof positive of that was the fact that Scott Summers was a devoted fan of Lyle Lovette.

    Still, he pressed on, wanting to get Recycle Renee.  The second disappointing blow was the fact that Sam's childhood best friend, Li'l Bit Walton, could be heard plainly over the speakers.  She had taken one look at him and labeled him a 'pretty boy'.  Her number-one-with-a-bullet, can't escape in the men's room at a gas station, perky tune "Missin' Kissin' at the Bayou" was a satirical view of Remy.

    Gambit sighed and started to work the room.  At least, here, no one knew him or his reputation.  Slowly but surely, he eased himself into the group of people that surrounded Jackie.  That Song started playing for the third time in two hours, when Jackie accidentally gave him an opening by fighting with her boyfriend.  She spilled her beer all over his pants and invited him back to her place to change and clean up.

    Although things didn't go quite as planned for the rest of the evening—her bedroom was plastered with pictures of litter, animal testing, and other stomach turning things, he managed to leave with Recycle Renee.

     ***
    Logan had a much rougher time getting into the plant than Pete did, but that was okay... he liked it rough.  The scaling the walls, crawling across the ceiling and dodging laser beams was actually fun.

    But the endless wait in the men's room was going to kill him.  He had picked that window because, at two o'clock in the morning, it was the least likely to be used.  However, the janitor had picked this time to clean the room.  And unlike most industrial janitors, this one was doing a good job.

    So Logan hung upside down for nearly forty-five minutes before the guy moved on.  Gratefully, Logan dropped down—and stumbled on the wet floor.   Sliding butt-first into a wall, he bit his tongue to avoid making any sounds that the guards might hear.  Finally, shaking off his bad luck, he was able to prove that he was the best at what he did.

    Of course, considering the job, that wasn't saying too much.

**
    Pete returned to the hospital the next day with Gambit and Logan.  Each clutched a brightly colored package under their arms and a triumphant smile on their faces.  There was nothing like knowing that they had managed to pull off what experts had considered impossible, that the Eco-Geckos were harder to find than the Cabbage Patch Kids at their very height of popularity.

    Strolling past the bickering cardiologist and neurologist at the nurse's station, Pete dropped the package of treatment instructions from Moira in the senior Dr. Martin's tray and turned into the Maria Santos Grey Memorial Children's Wing.  There, he marched into Amanda's room and stopped.

    Cable and Domino were presenting Amanda with the Eco-Geckos.  All three of them, and all the extras, all the friends and foes.  And the t-shirt.  And the little girl's mother was spreading an Eco-Gecko bedspread on the bed.  And worse of all, Pete heard Cable explain, "Turns out that one of the guys we rescued that night went on to design these toys.  So all it took was one phone call, and—" Cable snapped his fingers and pointed to the room.

    Amanda held up Pollution Pete, a figure that, when squeezed, would let loose a lethal gas cloud.  "Told you he looked like Uncle Pete!" she announced happily.  "And Auntie Neena was Recycle Renee, and Cable was Baron Banana."  Then, noticing the group at the door, she waved them in.  "Merry Christmas!"

    Domino looked at the action figures again, appraising them carefully.  With a composed attitude, she shrugged.  "You could have ended up as Count Cucumber," she pointed out as she tossed the figure to Cable to inspect.  The entendre escaped the child but the parents got a sorely needed laugh from the expression on Cable's face.
 

    Pete shoved the small package in his pocket, and held out Kitty's gift to the young girl.  "Merry Christmas," he said as he gave it to her.  Outside the room, he could here Gambit and Logan quickly making arrangements with a nurse to donate their gifts to the AIDS hospice as he pulled up a chair.   Amanda opened her gift, several videos and a tea set, with a grin.

     Pete waited until Amanda started to serve water to the group.  Then, as Cable tried his best to take a dainty sip out of the cup and asked "Has your dad ever told you about the time he got that old lug to wear a tutu?"  Sometimes, revenge could be sugar sweet.