Kai and Logan - Roses and Weeds
Jaya Mitai

Disclaimer - In case the title didn't clue you in... *duhhhhhh* the
shorter, hairier half of the title and his friends belong to Marvel.
The pissier, female half of the title belongs to Kaylee, as does Darius,
Kincaid, and the group Three Eyes.  I didn't extort anything out of
either Marvel or Kaylee, so technically I made no money from this (can
you believe it?  I work for FREE!)  This is PG -13 for some swearing
(gee, and it has Kai? What a surprise!) and violence.

Author's Notes - Originally Laersyn's idea slightly warped, Kaylee and I
kinda collaborated on this - I asked her a gazillion questions and she
gave me a gazillion ideas.  Thanks, OtherJaya, you're the greatest!
Everyone write Jazzwulf@aol.com and tell her she's wonderful!  And while
you're feedbacking *grin* drop a note to jaya_gm@hotmail.com and yell at
me for being such a meanie.  I like the attention.

* * * * * * *

        The doctor's face was grim as he left the room, shoes whispering 
on the antiseptic tile floor.  As the door closed, a young child's hacking
cough was heard, repeating with increasing frequency.  Then the white
door hissed and clicked shut, mercifully closed by the weight atop it.
The silver doorknob glinted invitingly.
        The doctor, however, stopped the wealthy, slightly disheveled man
before he could take said doorknob in his hand.
        "Who are you?"  The tone was neither friendly nor hostile, for the
doctor had been told a man such as this would eventually arrive.
        The man displayed incredulously, swallowing several times, his lips
ahead of his mind as they began to utter many impolite phrases, never to
get past the second syllable.  Finally his mouth and mind agreed.
        "_I_ am the boy's father," he spoke hastily, and rather
condescendingly.  His voice had a slight almost Greek accent, and his
face was a study in granite.  The fluorescent lighting of the hospital
gave his eyes a permanently startled quality.
        "The boy?"  The doctor cocked his head to the side measuredly.
"Does your 'son' have a name, or is he merely 'the boy'?"
        Again his mouth worked, and yet nothing was uttered.  The doctor
stared at him with a practiced steel gaze.
        "Sydney's mother does not wish that you be a part of his...
sickness, as you have not been a part of his life."  He didn't let the
rich man interrupt.  He had practiced this script every day in the
mirror for the past week, well expecting this meeting to be difficult.
        "Since you seem to be the biological father-" he looked just like
the photograph the nurses had all been shown "-I will tell you of the
condition of 'the boy' as concisely as possible.  He has a disorder of
the blood that is deeply affecting the ability of his organs to
function.  He is also now considered high risk for a stroke and it is 
a miracle he hasn't fallen into a coma.  Due to his mother's observant
eye, he was brought here immediately after showing symptoms of lethargy
and loss of appetite, and because of her, your son is not dead.  He has
a thirty to thirty-five percent chance of a full recovery."
        The man drew his head back, eyes widening and lips moving, but the
doctor held up a hand, forestalling him.
        "He is getting the best medical care that Panama has to offer -
we're also flying in several pediatric experts from the States.  They're en
route.  And now, sir, please leave.  You're in direct violation of the
restraining order."
        The man had narrowed his eyes - now they were as cold as that of a
black marble statue.  His hand moved; the doctor involuntarily flinched
away from the expected blow.  Instead of striking out, the man reached
for the chart, which he snagged with a grip easily strong enough to
crush bone.
        Then he turned on his heels and strode away.
        Dr. Ezell blinked, shocked, then turned and ran in the opposite
direction.
        "Security!"
        The two hospital guards that had been watching the elevator,
intended to intercept the visitor, rushed toward him, hands to their guns.
        When they rounded the corner, he was gone.

* * * * *

        "Sir?"
        The man behind the heavy walnut desk didn't acknowledge, merely
drummed fingers on a wood polished by years of such activity.  He stared at 
the phone with intensity, as though willing it to ring.  His face itself was
enough to intimidate even unanimated objects to do his bidding, though
it could have been mild had his expression not marred it so.
        "Sir."
        He spared the man a glance.  "What is it."  It wasn't a hostile
tone; it was mediated, just like most everything about the man.  Mediated.
Controlled.
        The secretary almost felt the need for a small bow as he approached
his employer, bearing an unmarked vanilla envelope.
        "We detected activity in one of the older archives last night."
        The man gave him a measuring look before leaning forward to open the
folder.
        "We haven't yet been able to ascertain where the search orig -
origina-"
        He trailed off as his employer began to laugh, a low, calm laugh, a
sound ringing with a kind of dark glee.

* * * * * * *

        Resolutely, the young man pulled the black Phantom of the Opera
shirt over his head, staring at the mask for a long time in the mirror, and
the rose beside it.
        "I'm doing this for you," he told it quietly, touching an image on
the mirror.
        Then he grabbed his keys and a pocketknife, looked at the apartment
for the very last time, and slammed the door on his way out.
        Another part of the cracked mirror fell to the floor with a
familiar, glassy sound.  The girl started in her corner, hearing the sound, 
not understanding.  Her dilated pupils continued to stare into the mirror,
seeing nothing but a senseless swirling of color.

* * * * * * *

        Sydney opened his eyes with a low moan, his lungs behaving
themselves for once, but his tummy aching.  He definitely decided he was 
going to throw up.
        "Muummmm..."
        A cool washcloth was pressed against his forehead, and a voice spoke
after many moments.
        "It's me, son.  It's Papa."  The voice was male, and the words were
spoken quickly, as thought the one speaking couldn't get them out fast
enough.  Sydney cracking open unbelieving eyes, but there he was.
        "Papa!"
        He reached up with his arms, so tired, and his papa embraced him
gently.  "Mum said you went away, and you weren't ever going to come back."
        His papa nodded, and his lips moved for a moment before he spoke
again.  "Your mum was wrong, Sydney.  See?  I'm here.  I'm going to make you 
all better."
        Sydney smiled.  His papa was just like an old Japanese movie!
Wait'll he told Adrianne.
        Another voice spoke, gruffer this time.  "Time to move out, Boss."
        His papa moved away, and another man came into view.  He was the
biggest orderly Sydney had seen yet in the hospital, but he had to be an
orderly, he was wearing the blue of an orderly.  This man began
unhooking all the things he was attached to.  Some of them were the
things no one was supposed to unhook.
        "Are you supposed to do that?" he asked weakly.
        The huge orderly nodded without smiled.  "Yep, kid, you're outta
here."
        Sydney smiled.  "Papa, where's Mum?  She'll be so pleased."
        His papa smiled, but it somehow looked different, somehow wrong.
His lips got ahead of his voice again, but this time Sydney got no delight
from watching it.
        "Mum will be along in a while, Sydney.  You just go back to sleep."

* * * * * * *

        "Look, this isn't hard."
        She glared at him.
        Logan sighed, wrapping his arms around the waist of a rather pissy
Kai and trying to handle the flipper at the same time.  He'd finally managed
to capture her, after a bit of rough-housing, and now had her pinned
firmly between him and the stove.
        "See those little bubbles in the middle?"
        Kai nodded with exaggerated slowness, her eyebrows raised and a
slightly sarcastic smirk on her face.
        "Knock it off."
        "Don't patronize me, Logan.  You can stand here as long as you want,
but the minute you turn your back, I'll burn them.  You want orange juice?"
        She slithered out of his grip by ducking under his arms and
sidestepping before he could untangle his arms and finish flipping the
pancake.  He grunted, but said nothing.
        Kai went to the cupboard, reaching high above her head to get the
glasses.  Damned apartment musta been designed for six foot people.  She
poured the orange juice while he finished tending to the pancakes, the
perfect brown mocking her as they landed, soft and fluffy, on the plate.
        Show-off.
        The phone rang, and she answered it as Logan placed the plate on the
table with a flourish.
        "Hello?"
        "Kai?" The voice was JoJo's, anxious but without fright or pain.
        "Yeah, you okay?"
        "There's some guy looking for you," she said without preamble, again
slightly anxiously.  "One of my guys heard your name from Gel."  One of
her clients, no doubt.
        "Did he say why," she said casually, as Logan grabbed the syrup from
the cupboard, glancing in her direction.
        "No," JoJo sounded exasperated.  "Just street word.  Keep an eye
out, okay?"
        "Always do.  You _sure_ you're okay?"
        "Yeah, fine.  I might be a little late, so could you feed the cat
for me?"
        Kai took a measured breath.  "Cat, huh?  Yeah, I'll feed the cat for
you.  Still leave the key outside the door?"  Logan had stopped getting
out silverware and was now still, watching her and listening.
        "No, it's in the casing of the hall phone."
        Kai nodded.  "Gotcha.  Thanks for the warning."
        "Yeah."  The phone went dead.
        Logan was already grabbing their coats.  "Phone booth.  Where?"
        Kai glanced at the clock.  "It's almost six.  Gotta be the payphone
next to the old school."
        As one they headed out the door, the pancakes deflating slightly as
the door slammed.
        The phone rang.
        Logan knocked the door back open with a curse and beat Kai by a nose
to the phone.
        "Yeah."
        "Logan?"  It was Ororo, definitely apologetic.  "We need you at the
mansion.  A mutant boy is threatening to bury the Empire State Building."
        Kai stared at the phone.  It would be funny under any other
circumstances.  *And I became an X-Man for this?*
        Logan closed his eyes.  "Yer kiddin', right?"
        "I wish I was."  Ororo's voice sounded weary.  "He did bury the city
commerce building, to make a point.  And everyone in it."
        Logan uncharacteristically ran a hand through his hair.  "Fine.  How
much time have I got?"
        "We've just left the War Room.  Thirty minutes at most.  And Kai?"
        "She's... out shoppin'.  Burned the last of the eggs this mornin'."
        Kai merely shrugged at Logan as Ororo's quiet laughter reached her
ears.  "I'll see you in thirty."
        "Yeah." He hung up the phone and looked at Kai.  She nodded.
        "I can handle it, Logan.  Go."
        He kept his gaze on her as she left, and she could still feel his
eyes on her back even as she headed nonchalantly down the road toward the
abandoned school building.

        Cat.  A single guy.  JoJo usually only called them if she felt
threatened by a gang, not a single man.  Still, she wouldn't have called
if it was something she thought she could handle by herself.
        Traffic was just starting to go through this section of town, as
many of the major roads were becoming congested and frantic drivers were 
less worried about violence and more worried about getting to work on time.
Still, it was unusually quiet in front of the old school.
        The phone booth was empty, but the receiver hung, swinging gently
from the silver cord.
        No one was in sight.  Stay paper blew in the brisk morning wind,
carrying the scents of the eastern side of the city with it.  And
sweeping away any scent from the old school.  *Gee, how convenient.*
        Studying the old stone building, Kai got that prickly feeling on the
back of her neck.  She didn't hear or see anything, but she felt -
Instinct took over, and she jerked herself to her left.  Something
whizzed past her right ear, close enough to just clip the lobe.
        Without hesitating, she threw herself down on the crumbling stone
stairs, rolling onto her back, trying to figure out where the sniper was -
        "That was your warning.  Stand up and keep your hands where I can
see them."
        The voice was cold, detached, professional.  Not a voice that she
could identify to one person, but definitely to a vocation.  She stood, eyes
tilted up to the third story window.
        The speaker wasn't alone, as three others came out of the building
to approach her, small automatics in hand.  She watched them approach
calmly.
        "Don't you guys think this is kinda overkill?  I don't even have my
purse with me."  She almost tripped over the word 'purse,' the ridiculous 
image of Jean and Ororo shopping suddenly springing to mind.
        Two of the three stood several yards away, their pistols trained on
her heart as the third approached her, tucking the gun away in favor of a
small cylinder with a needle attached.  She held up a hand.
        "Really, guys, this isn't necessary... the only thing I've got on
me is a twenty dollar watch -"
        She knocked the syringe away with enough force to send it rolling
towards the storm drain, and stepped directly in front of the startled
mercenary.
        Only one of the two behind him was stupid enough to fire.
        She grabbed the pistol from the staggering man and fired off a round
apiece at the other two before diving for cover from the third story
sniper.  She'd have to take care of him, or this was gonna be the
shortest skirmish in-
        "Surprise."
        Something plunged into the back of her neck, and she didn't even
have time to fall.

* * * * * * *

        Kai's probably having a grand ol' time right now, rippin' through
some pimp.  Damn woman, shoulda made her flip a coin.
        Logan halted his climb, claws dug into the concrete and metal of the
Empire State building.  He hug there suspended some thirty stories above
the ground, having easily that much to go as he stared up.
        "This has gotta be the dumbest thing I've ever done."
        A pigeon, still guarding her nest despite his approach, cooed in
agreement.
        It was going to be a long day.

* * * * * * *

        The group of men ranged from thirty-eight to seventy, brown eyes,
blue eyes, blonde hair, red hair.  Only one commonality held them together.
That linking point sat before them, a cryptic smile twisting his
features into something unpleasant to look upon, yet strangely enticing.
        "Boys, I've called you here for a reason."
        One of the older ones cleared his throat.  "That, Kincaid, is
obvious. We are, of course, wondering why."
        Kincaid glanced at the seven men around him.  "Some of you are here
for your espionage skills.  Some of you are here for your medical skills.
And some of you are here for the hell of it."  His cryptic smile broadened.  
"One of my projects has stumbled blindly back into my hands."

* * * * * * *

        _Ow._
        Bright, white light streamed through her closed lids, making her
want to squint.
        But she didn't.
        Nor did she try to relieve the cramp knotting itself into a small
ball on the back of her right thigh.
        Actually, it was all she could do not to scream.
        She was cuffed; the strong fibers of the cloth restraints dug
unpleasantly into her bare wrists and ankles.  She was flat on her back,
a thick strap about her forehead to keep her head still.  Though the
light overhead gave heat, she felt it directly on her bare skin.  No
clothes.
        And she smelled nothing but the pervading, overwhelming odor of
rubbing alcohol.
        Ohfuckohfuckthisisn'thappeningtome -
        "Ms... Kai."
        She casually opened her eyes, now squinting against the light of the
overhead surgical array to glare at a man.  One man, standing there in a
very nice, sleek Armani, perfectly neat, perfect posture, a face a
sculptor would envy.  He opened his mouth; his lips moved for several
moments before anything audible came out.
        "You are my savior.  I will spend eternity worshipping your name."
        Other than the lip wriggling, he seemed eloquent enough, educated,
and not in the slightest familiar.  His accent was Mediterranean, possible
Greek-
        What'm I doing fucking analyzing his damned _accent?!_  She tested
her bonds, finding they did not budge, and the man shook his head, wagging
his mouth again for a few moments, silently.
        "Now, now.  I won't let you ruin the honor you do yourself by this.
When you awaken, my little Kai -"
        His little Kai?! I'll show you your 'little Kai,' you bastard-
        "-all this will seem but a bad dream, and you will truly understand
the great and marvelous thing you've accomplished."
        What in the hell do you think you're gonna do to me?
        "What in the hell do you think you're gonna do to me?"  The speech
came out a lot calmer than the thought.
        His lips made gestures like hands caressing a silken sheet, silent.
Then; "You're going to have a son.  A beautiful boy, and he's going to
live forever."
        The bastard thinks he's gonna get me preggers?  Her mouth quirked,
her body finding humor with what her mind could not.  Must think the
symbiont gets passed down through my genes.  Surprise, asshole.  She
opened her mouth to say something; it came out slurred and angry.  Too
familiar, the slurred voice, the tone.  A deep, cold fright gripped her
stomach, despite the smartass comment rolling off her tongue.  Her eyes
grew tired, and only then did she notice the IV drip flowing freely into
her blood.
        She heard motion, though now her eyes could only focus dully on the
bright, white light so far above her.  Voices echoed strangely in her
ears, and she felt a cutting pain, though it grew less sharp as it
drifted away from her, further...

* * * * * * *

        Logan finally made it to the appointed floor, every muscle in his
arms and back aching with the strain of the climb.  Ever so carefully, he
slipped a single claw between the panes, cutting the window lock.  It
swung outward slightly upon the release.
        Damn stupid kid... collapsing a damn building...
        As noiselessly as a cat he slipped in, almost whistling.  Quite a
lot of machinery.  Radar to warn him of helicopters, or, in their case,
flying X-Men.  Every elevator video was fed to the monitors atop a
secretary's desk.
        Keys and keys of cocaine lay sliced open in their respective Compaq
boxes, and the floor was dusted with the stuff.  Judging by the slight
buzz it gave him, it was pretty high-quality coke.
        "What the hell is this?"
        He stood there a moment, before he continued through the empty
building, following a strangely rocky scent.

* * * * * * * *

        There was someone there.  He knew it before he turned around.  The
gravel had told him, though it had not moved.
        "How did you get past my setup," he asked conversationally.
        He received a snort in reply.  "The dust down there yours?"
        He barked a laugh.  "No.  Executives sell the stuff all the time.
They just never get prosecuted.  That stuff killed a rose, and the courts
threw it out."
        Whoever it was stopped approaching him.  "Well, I guess yah got yer
evidence.  What's with the threats?"
        He turned - and saw no one.  He looked down, into eyes as hard and
dark as those of a puma.
        "The defiler is trapped in the executive's bathroom.  I locked him
in there.  There's a radio.  He's listening to it, and it's broadcasting
nothing but news of the boy threatening to collapse the building."
        "Doesn't explain the Commerce Building," the short man growled.
        He shrugged, and turned to stare down at the tiny people below.
        "The lawyer and judge," he said by way of explanation.  "Don't
attempt to touch me.  The roof won't let you, and since the rose died, I have 
no more use for this plane of existence.  You may leave the way you came."
        "Not on yer life," the man muttered.  "Look, kid, can't we talk
about this?  Who was this Rose?"
        He laughed.  "Not a who.  A what.  It was a rose, and now it's dead,
the blossom withered, the stem flaccid."  He turned again to glance at
the short man, before turning back.
        "The rose you wear is healthy yet.  Leave.  I don't wish to destroy
a rose as beautiful as the one you carry."

* * * * * * *

        The kid had to be tripping.
        He wasn't wearing some damn weed.  He tried another tactic.
        "Kid, I don't have a clue what yer talkin' about, but there is a
place you can go to get help."
        The teen laughed.  "Why am I the one who needs help?  Are you not
stuck on the roof of a doomed building with a psychopath, and no feasible
means of leaving?"
        Kid had a point.
        "Yer mutant power bummin' you out, or was it the person wearing that
rose yer pinin' over?"
        The kid didn't turn.  Dammit, turn around so I can hit you and we
can all go home.  But the kid wasn't off balance yet, and it was too much of
a risk.  Besides, the kid had had way too much of those keys.
        "The bearer of the rose I mourn was nothing more than planeal
pleasure.  It was the rose I cherished so."
        Oh, so he fucked the girl and loved the weed.
        "Yer lyin' out yer ass."
        The kid turned, a wide-eyed look on his face, and Logan took the
opportunity to break his jaw.
        The teen flew to the gravel, which, instead of sprawling around,
surrounded him protectively in a small ring, cuddling around him like a
nest.
        Weird.
        Logan hit the com unit of his watch.  "Got him, Cyke."
        There was a pause.  "I know.  Jean was monitoring you."
        *Hiyah, Jeannie.  Gettin' better.*
        #I try.  We've informed the local police of the cocaine and the
trapped dealer, but the crowd's getting a little unfriendly.  I'm sending 
Rogue up there to get you.#
        *Gotcha.*
        He walked to the edge of the building, looking at all the upturned
faces, so far below, and stepped off.
        Rogue caught him about halfway with a half-irritated, half relieved
look.  "What if I hadn't caught yah?"
        Logan shrugged in her arms.  "Oops."
        As Rogue flew him toward the X-Men and the waiting Blackbird, he
suddenly understood what the boy had said.

* * * * * * *

        Cold.
        I hate cold.
        When I find this asshole...
        Kai warily sniffed, but smelled nothing more than cold metal and 
the shocking absence of other scents.  Almost unconsciously, she curled off
her back onto her side, huddled in an almost fetal position as she awoke
fully.
        The lights were dim - it explained the temperature of a room 
designed not to overheat with such lights shining for hours at a time.  There 
was no furniture in the surgery room, and she had been lying on her back,
clothed in what she had been wearing.
        There were no bloodstains on them, and they had been washed.  A
single tiny voice in her mind whispered sarcastically, wasn't that nice of
them?
        More alert, Kai sat up warily, still curled, the back of her neck
sore.  From the injection?  That was stupid, it should have healed -
        Which meant this injury was fresh.  And judging by the sluggish way
she was waking, it was probably caused by the same drug.
        Kai curiously probed at her stomach, but there was no redness, no
swelling to indicate any surgery had been performed.
        "You're going to have a son.  A beautiful boy, and he's going to
live forever."
        But she couldn't have kids.  It was impossible.  Something about the
symbiont wouldn't allow it.
        The aching in her neck gradually faded, and she began to grow more
alert.  Upon finding herself curled in such a position, she hastily
stood, glaring about the room for any kind of surveillance, chiding
herself firmly.
        She slapped shaking hands on her hips as she studied the light
array, looking for a camera amongst the lights.
        She found one, too.  It was too high for her to reach, and protected
by the glass of the array, some sort of alloy that didn't crack or break
under intense heat.  She didn't glance that way again, merely watched
the door.  The trembling had begun spreading, from her hands to her
knees, so that the loose fabric at the base of her jeans fluttered ever
so slightly.
        She began to pace, still watching the door.
        It watched back, but did not move.
        Dimly a cool voice spoke in her mind, but quietly, faintly, and it
was so hard to hear.  It had the tone and calm of Sensei, but was drowned
out by loud, frantic thoughts as the cold clutched at her stomach once
more.  Her pacing increased.
        What did they do to me?  Why?  What do they know?  Who do they work
for?  Who _are_ they?  Though she hated the thought on principle, she
would not have minded at all if Logan burst through the door to take her
in his strong arms, right about now.
        It hurt to admit, the idea that she actually _wanted_ him to rush 
in like the white knight to rescue her, the damned damsel in distress.
Whoever these clowns were, they were gonna pay for it.
        The door seemed to sense her fear slowly replaced by indignance, 
and finally, anger.  _Damn_ them!  And me!  Just grabbed off the street!
Shit, Sensei would shake his head and then make me run defensive forms
for eternity if he knew how easily I'd been taken!  And what of JoJo?
These guys had been standing there as she had made that call - of that
Kai was sure.  If they'd hurt her-
        The door decided she was mad enough to handle anything without
embarrassment, and opened to reveal the same well-dressed, handsome man.
Only this time, he didn't look mild or at all worshipping.  He looked
ready to kill.
        She wished fervently that he would try.
        Instead of just shooting her, he stormed in with several of his men
and walked right up to her, fearlessly.  Either he had balls the size of 
the Great Loogah's, or he was the most unintelligent man on the planet.  
It was obvious he was trying to use his height to intimidate her.  She
glared up at him icily, not at all impressed.
        "It didn't _work_," he said, rather accusingly, after much working
of the mouth.
        She smiled coldly at him, holding onto the anger that still rode a
wave ahead of utter terror.
        His lips wriggled again.  "Why didn't it work?"
        "That depends," she said archly.  "What exactly did you try?"
        He reached out a hand - whether to grab her by the shoulders and
shake her, or to strike her, she was never sure.  She socked him in the jaw,
as hard as she could.
        He reeled back, a hand to a face so startled it was comical.  His
armed guard rushed her and tackled her to the ground, and calculated, cat-
like motion disappeared under the frantic need to escape.  It was easy for
them to subdue her.
        Heart racing, Kai watched the man approach her, his eyes gone from
mild, even amused, to the pure sort of anger of a psychopath spurned.
The guards spent more time steadying her trembling than actually holding
her down, looking nearly as surprised as their employer.  She was
shaking so badly she could not have stood.
        Calm.  Be calm.  With concentration nearly forgotten and barely
kept, she tried to slow her racing heart, trying to ignore the cold sweat 
that slicked her hands and face.  Tried to control frantic breathing.  This
_isn't_ the time to panic!
        "How DARE you strike me!"  This was bellowed without the usual
lip-stutters.  Apparently he was more sure of what he wanted to say, now.
        She shot a murderous look at him, her concentration broken but her
fear with it.  What an arrogant ass!  She struggled and nearly got away from
the guards before they managed to pin her again.
        Enraged, the man began to lean down, probably with the intention of
hitting her.  Abruptly he straightened, a look of mild surprise replacing 
his rage, and slowly crumpled to the floor.
        Men in gear so familiar it twisted her gut raced in, not killing the
hired guns but ushering them against the wall to take their weapons.
Two of the four trained what appeared to be tasers at Kai.
        Charcoal cammies, 'standard' weapons other terrorist organizations
would call excessive, faces she didn't know, but...
        Fuck, these people are Three Eyes.
        And who should come smiling in after them but a face she would
never, ever forget.  A calm, controlled face.  A face she had associated 
with Master for far too many years of her life.  A face she had smashed to 
a bloody pulp so many times in her mind.
        "Hello, KI-5," Kincaid said cordially.

* * * * * * * *

        "You have fun?"
        There was no answer.  He slapped the door shut, tossing his keys
onto the coffee table.
        "Kai."
        No answer.  A quick sniff told him she hadn't been there since that
morning, and the cold flat pancakes had not moved.  Logan froze, his
senses warning him of-
        The door burst open, and Logan whipped around, growling, his claws
popped.
        JoJo slammed on the brakes with a startled yelp.  He immediately
dropped the stance, sheathing his claws and cursing himself.
        To her credit, JoJo didn't scream.  She fell against the door,
which, unfortunately, shut under her stumbling push.  Whimpering in her throat,
she turned and tugged frantically on the handle.
        "Damn, Jo, I'm sorry-"  He knew better than to let her run screaming
down the hall, so her grabbed her shoulders as gently as possible,
restraining her.  She did scream a little at his touch, but he turned
her around gently and stared into her eyes, not shutting the door behind
her.  Best that she didn't feel trapped.
        "Easy.  Settle down."  The voice he used was much like the tone that
seemed to calm Jubilee.
        She stared back at him, her eyes a pool of fear and startled surprise, 
her breathing frantic.  He took his hands off her the second he thought she 
wouldn't run.
        "Relax, Jo.  It's okay.  It's me.  It's okay."
        She swallowed and her eyes darted to his hands.  Logan grimaced.
"Look, Jo, just don' ask.  Kind of a touchy subject with me."
        Her eyes flew back up to him.  She nodded, swallowing.  Only then
did he notice the swelling of her jaw, the redness of her eyes.
        He also smelled blood.
        "Jo, you okay?"  Without waiting for an answer he tilted her chin
up.  She pulled away.
        "N-nothing like what they did to her," she muttered.  Jo reeked of
guilt, now, with the barely masked terror and a touch of anger.
        "Her who."  The growl caused Jo to flinch again, but she met his 
eyes.
        "Kai."
        Logan pointed unceremoniously to a chair.  She sat.  He sat across
from her, leaning his elbows onto his knees and fixing her with a penetrating
glare, moderating it somewhat as she almost flinched away from him.
        "What happened."
        JoJo rubbed her nose on her silk/polyester sleeve.  It was after
two, and she was still in her work clothes.  That was unlike her.  Logan
noted the blood smeared on it, as well.  So her nose had been bleeding,
anyway.  And the wrist she exposed was rubbed red and raw, probably from
rope.  He barely contained the growl in his throat.  She swallowed.
        "Like I told her, Gel caught the word someone was looking for her.
I was just finishing up my usual run, and a few guys popped out of the old
school.  Knew my route, and knew that Kai kept an eye on me.  Told me to
call her and tell her to come."  She frowned, anger now the major scent
rolling off her.  "Wouldn't, you know that.  They didn't... y'know,"
she said, her eyes moving evasively before looking back at him, "And..." 
and she gestured at her face.
        "Said that if I didn't call and get her out there, they'd just 
get her at the apartment, and it would probably be a lot messier.  And 
I figure that's right, it would have to be kinda quite, out in public and 
everything..."  Now she smelled of guilt.
        "They gave her an injection of some kind, and then drove off.  Took
me most of the day to get out of the ropes."  Explains the burns, too.  He
relaxed some.  That sounded too professional for the guns to have hurt
Jo badly.  And they obviously wanted Kai alive.  And had been conducting
surveillance.
        "It's okay, Jo.  You did fine."
        Despite his gruff tone, the words seemed to release a flood from 
the woman, who began sobbing almost hysterically.  She blubbered out
something about 'protecting' and 'I betrayed.'  Logan awkwardly stood
and pulled her to lean on him, stroking her hair, almost glad to find
she didn't flinch away.
        Kai'd have to help herself on this one.

* * * * * * *

        Kai lashed out at him almost without thought - and was tasered.  It
was only lightly, though; they were being very gentle with her.
        Did they believe she was pregnant, as well?
        Kincaid laughed at her, a quiet laugh she remembered so well.  His
delight when he finally had broken her, finally had her literally eating
out of his hand like some kind of damned yappy wind-up dog!
        She struggled vainly to get up, but her vision had not yet cleared.
Maybe they weren't being as gentle with her as she had originally
thought.
        "My, my, but you're a sad sight.  On your knees once again."
        Red fury rose in place of weakness, and she did push to her feet,
however unsteadily and briefly.  He backhanded her literally before she
even saw his hand move, and found herself on the cold floor once more.
        "We can't have any of that, now can we."
        Kai wiped blood from the side of her mouth, sensing Kincaid crouch
down beside her.  He grabbed her hair, hauled her head back painfully.
        "Has it been so long," he whispered calmly in her ear.  "Have you
forgotten what I taught you?"  He leaned his face into her hair and
sighed deeply.  Kai tried to pull away, but he held her like iron,
finally leaning away to look into her eyes, kindly.  "Perhaps a short
review is in order?"
        She spat blood at him, too off balance to strike out with anything
else, too dizzy to try to escape his grip.
        With the help of his arm, her face met the floor swiftly and
intimately.  She heard a small cry as she felt her nose snap, and
surprise mingled with the pain.  Surely that wasn't _me._
        "What about this, sir?"
        Kincaid slammed her face once more into the floor, then stood and
walked somewhere behind her.  Again, a cry, a small sound, like that of
a dove.
        "He looks very weak.  Showing signs of rejection?"
        "No, he isn't," an older, firm voice spoke.  "However, his condition
is not improving.  I want him for observation."
        Kai managed to slide her face along the floor until it was bent at 
a peculiar angle, allowing her to see the door.
        A rather small, sickly looking boy stared in horror at the body 
on the floor, too frightened - or weak - to scream.  Instead of being
restrained, he was actually leaning on one of the hired guns for
support.
        He doesn't look anything like me.  The thought just rolled out.
Looks like... his father.  The thought suddenly hurt, and she wondered... 
what would it be like to look upon a child's face and see Logan staring back?
        Musta hit my head harder than I thought.
        The boy did bear a remarkable resemblance to the granite-faced man
on the floor, his facial structure developing into the same sculptured
cheekbones.  Surely he had to be the man's son.
        Doesn't look like he has a drop of American Indian blood, another
thought said wistfully.
        She didn't stop to wonder about the wistful part.  She merely sat
up, able to at least remain upright, and wiped the blood from her broken -
now mending - nose.  Still, it seemed to be a bit sluggish.  She
wondered how much juice they'd really hit her with, and whether the
drugs she had been given had somehow numbed the pain she should have
felt at a dose that powerful.
        "Then you shall have him," Kincaid finally said, his shrewd eyes
brightly watching hers for a reaction.
        I'll be damned before I give you that satisfaction, you goddamned
son of a bitch.
        Kai pulled herself laboriously to her feet, making obvious her
weakness, which was diminishing.  There was enough blood on her face to
hide the fact that the swelling has gone down some, and considering the
time it had taken her to recover from the taser, it was probably
believable.  Truth be told, she really didn't feel that good, and it
worried her.  She was in no condition to escape from Three Eyes agents.
        Or Kincaid.
        Undoubtedly, the fate they would suffer at Darius's hands would be
more pleasant that the one they would suffer at Kincaid's, should she escape.
One kicked her none-too-lightly in the stomach at a nod from Kincaid,
and she silently crumpled back to the ground, her eyes half-lidded,
carefully schooling her features into despair and poorly masked pain.
        "Give him a lethal injection.  See if that has any effect."
        "I'd really rather n-... as you wish."
        At the sound of cloth rustling, Kai was lifted from the ground, 
her arms twisted painfully behind her back, and she was half-dragged,
half-carried from the room.  At the door they stopped, and Kincaid
gently cupped her chin, stroking her cheek with one finger.
        OhfuckohshitstopTOUCHINGME!
        "This been too long in coming."  He gently kissed her forehead.
"I've been looking forward to it."  He leaned away and tilted his head to 
the side, appraising her yet not releasing her.  She glowered at him, trying
vainly again to free herself from his grasp.
        You goddamn son of a bitch, you will NEVER touch me like that again-
        "You do understand you never left my possession. You are and always
will be mine, KI-5."
        It was too much.
        "My name is KAI!"  With a calculated twist of her body she freed one
hand and used it to strike him.  It was a heel strike, intended for his
throat, where hopefully it would have crushed his trachea and he would
have suffocated.  Instead, it landed right below, at the connecting
hollow of his collarbones, and she was gratified to hear a distinct
cracking noise.
        Then her world went dark with white spots.

* * * * * * *

        The phone rang.
        Logan waited three rings before he picked it up.
        "Yeah."
        "Logan."
        He felt some of his tension drain away at just hearing her voice,
distorted as it was through a bad connection.
        "What the hell was that about?"
        He heard her sigh, the sound static-filled.  "I'd rather not talk
about it."
        That could only mean one thing.
        "You handlin' it?"  Best not ask outright if she needed help.
        "Yeah," came the answer after a moment.  She didn't sound angry, or
tired, just... calm.  Emotionless.  The hair on the back of his neck
started to rise.
        "Darlin'... you alright?"
        "Yeah."  This one had a little more conviction.  "Look, this
connection's bad, I'll give you a call again later.  And don't bother
looking.  You won't find me.  This isn't X-Men business."
        "Yeah," he said, but the connection went dead.
        The hair on the back of his neck continued to stand on end.

* * * * * * *


        When she awoke, Kai found herself firmly bound and lying on her
back, her arms again lying uncomfortably beneath her.  Her face still hurt,
which meant she hadn't been out long.  And she was not alone.
        The boy was there, not tied, huddled in the corner.  He had pulled
the thin blue cotton hospital gown over his folded knees and he hugged them
to him, his shoulders moving unrhythmically, yet he didn't make a sound.
        Oh, damn.
        Kai stared at him a moment, before hauling herself into a sitting
position.  At once the boy tensed, peering tear-stained eyes over at her.
        Shit.  There was no way this kid was hers.  How could he have grown
so fast...?
        Then again, there was no guarantee that it had been merely the day
it felt like.  A long time could have gone by.  She knew that better than
anyone.  And besides, maybe they had done some weird cloning thing...
happened to the damned X-Men all the time, and since she had joined their 
ranks, stranger things had happened.
        Upon seeing that she remained still, he buried his face into his
knees once more, but this time it didn't seem like he was crying.  Kai tested
her bonds, and found they would not budge.
        "Hey."
        The kid didn't move.
        "Hey, it's okay.  I'm not gonna hurt you."  Kincaid, on the other
hand...  She almost growled in frustration as cold gripped her stomach with
merely the thought of his name.
        The kid didn't move.
        "Look, do you think you can untie me, so we can get the hell outta
here?"  Belatedly she realized swearing at him really wasn't gonna help
- and then another thought occurred to her.  If he was somehow related
to her, and he'd been cloned... he might not be able to speak.  He
might not be able to understand English.
        She expelled her breath with a hiss, lay back down on her side and
tried to work the bonds at least a little looser.  Her nose still ached,
and her head felt hollow.  Her mouth tasted funny, as well.
        Drugged again?  Well, the bastard's had more than enough time to
have some fucking scientist come up with drugs strong enough to handle the
symbiont.  She could maybe exaggerate the effect they had, but...
hell, he'd expect that.  He'd expect everything, this time around.
        Oh, fuck, how am I gonna get out of here?
        Small, cold fingers found her wrist and began to clumsily pull at
the bonds.

* * * * * * *

        "Either it is indeed genuine, or the best voice replication I've
ever heard," Bishop told him, removing the headphones.  "It was an
intelligent move to let your answering machine pick up before you did,
so we'd have a tape to analyze."
        Knowing he couldn't go to Hank with this and keep it private, and
knowing also how very good Bishop was at these sort of things, Logan had
brought the tape to him to study.
        "But you believe it to be false."
        Logan shrugged.  "I can't tell fer sure it isn't."
        A light blinked insistently on the board, and Logan punched 
a button.  Tape began to roll.  Then, he made sure the door to the 
Communications room was locked, and clicked another button.
        "Yeah."
        "Took you long enough."
        Bishop's eyes watched the analyzer matching to Kai's vocal pattern.
It couldn't from the small amount she said, and he nodded to Logan.
        "Kinda had me worried, hangin' up like that.  This connection ain't
too good, either.  Where are you?"
        Static.  "Pakistan.  You wouldn't believe the trouble I had even
finding a phone."
        The computer blinked, "Match."
        "You got time ta tell me what's going on?"
        There was a pause.  "No."  This one also was emotionless.  "Just
enough time to let you know I'm still around.  I should be finished here in 
a few days."
        "Flying back?"
        "I don't know," came the fuzzy reply.  "I have to go."
        "Be careful.  Love yah, snookums."
        True to his nature, Bishop's expression didn't change at all.  But
his eyes...
        "I love you too."
        The connection went dead.  Logan snarled and slammed a fist into the
button marked 'Stop,' and the tape instantly froze.
        "I don't care what that damned machine says.  That ain't Kai."
        "No, it isn't," Bishop agreed quietly.  "Nor was the call from
Pakistan."
        Logan glanced at the computer monitor.  A glowing green line had
bounced off of three or four satellites, and though the computer hadn't
managed to make a lock -
        It had been heading right back for the Northern United States.  Or
Canada.

* * * * * * *

        As soon as the kid had worked a wrist free, she yanked the other 
out and went to work immediately on her feet.  They wouldn't leave them
alone for long - she was probably supposed to 'bond' with the kid, so
they could get to her with him.
        Once on her feet, she turned and regarded the boy that scurried
immediately to the corner and huddled away from her, as if expecting a
blow.  She sighed, and tried again.
        "Hey, really, it's okay.  I'm not gonna hurt you.  My name is Kai."
        He didn't respond or even look in her direction.  As soon as she
took a step anywhere near him, he whimpered plaintively, and she halted.  
Five feet from him.  He huddled farther into the corner and continued to
whimper in his throat.  The noises varied in timbre; he was talking to
himself without opening his mouth.
        Good.  They might think he was mumbling into her shoulder, that 
the two of them were together.  She made soothing noises, quieting as she
approached the door.  Kincaid had to be listening, though there was no
way for him to watch in this cell, and he wouldn't let this go on for
too long.  He wouldn't be patient enough, not with her in his hand
again.
        She glared at her hands, which undermined her brave facade by
shaking violently.  If she couldn't escape... Her eyes traveled back to 
the boy.  Would it be fair to leave him for Kincaid to take out his
frustration on?
        And if she couldn't escape... would it be fair to let Kincaid
condition him, as she had been conditioned?  She had killed before...
but could she kill a child?  Even to save him from something far worse?
And could she kill herself?
        Her trembling grew, and she hastily backhanded away a little water
from her eyes as an eyelash irritated it.  She knew where the symbiont was,
somewhere in the back of her neck.  A really good trauma to that area
might kill it, and then -
        The doors opened without preamble, taking her by surprise.
        Thankfully, it had taken the two guards by surprise, as well.  Only
one had his gun; the other held a small syringe of clear liquid.  Too small
of a dose for her.  It must be meant for the child.
        As quick as thought she struck at the man with the gun, kicking it
down so that it bounced off his foot into the cell.  Then she stepped in and
dealt a vicious blow to the jaw that sent the guard reeling.  Without
missing a beat she used the momentum to whip herself around into a
roundhouse that took the other guard not entirely by surprise, but too
swiftly for him to block.
        The syringe skidded off to lay against the far wall of the hall.
        He recovered far quicker than she would have believed possible,
leaning forward to deliver a well-timed kick straight to her midsection.  
As she lost her balance and stumbled back, the first guard came forward, 
diving for his gun.
        She beat him to it by a fingernail, and tried to roll away once she
had the weapon, but the first guard grabbed her legs, stopping her.  He
would simple take the gun away if she tried to shoot him, and as she
wrestled with him, the other stepped over and calmly kicked her in the
back of the head.
        Pain exploded before her eyes, and the gun was gently taken from her
nerveless fingers.  There was no other motion.
        "Okay, kid, play nice and gimme back the gun."
        Kai couldn't help but smile.  If nothing else, the kid had her style.
        She managed to kick the other agent off and scrambled to a crouch,
her head still spinning from the blow.  Something was definitely wrong with
her.  The boy held the gun straight out, though his hands were shaking
so badly it was just as possible the gun would go off whether he
intended to use it.  She reached out and grabbed it from him.
        "Thanks, kid."  She motioned to the agents, and they stepped out
into the hall.
        She knew the usual prisoner MO.  They would have no other weapons; 
a fallen agent should not provide an arsenal to a dangerous escaped
prisoner.  If that prisoner managed to get a weapon away, the agent
should not even have a spare clip with which the escapee could use to
take out the rest of the guard.
        He wasn't supposed to go down.
        But she knew protocol as well as he, and didn't bother to search
him.  It would just give them another opportunity to take her down.
        "You actually loyal to that piece of shit?"
        Neither replied; both had perfectly schooled neutral looks about
them.  Without warning she struck the first across the face with the firearm.
He fell against the wall with a loud thud.  She stepped up and gripped
his head between her hands while he was dazed.  With a sharp twist, his
neck snapped, and wide, empty eyes stared at nothing as the body slid
down the wall.  The other guard was a blur of motion - she felt a sharp
jab in the calf even as she pulled the trigger, wishing more than
anything to silence the explosion of sound that rocked down the hall.
        So much for a quiet getaway.
        She looked down to see a half-empty syringe sticking out of her
calf.  Shaking with rage, she yanked it out and threw it down.  Not enough 
to do any damage.
        Kincaid.
        Her blood boiled in anger, a thin sweat forming over her body at the
thought of him staring at a bloody hole in his chest, and her smiling face.
        A quiet whimper reminded her she wasn't alone in this.  The boy
stared at the bodies, a tear running down his cheek.  Reminded him of his 
dead pa, probably.  The last thing she needed was to carry some sobbing
rugrat through Three Eyes security.
        Two down, two to go.  The odds were not in her favor.
        "C'mon, kid, we gotta go."  And please let me have one clean shot at
that dirty son of a bitch before we leave.
        She grabbed his hand before he could argue and took off at a dead
run.

* * * * * * *

        Logan toyed with the scrap of paper for a while, debating.  Sure,
Kai'd kill him.  And despite her claims, he didn't trust this Darius any more
than he would any Jo Blo off the street.
        But this reeked of government.  Voice replication of that quality
had to be expensive, and extremely hard to reproduce.  And one-of-a-kind.
        And much as he didn't trust this Darius, he was out of options.  
His own contacts had turned up nothing.  His old Alpha Flight buddies told
him they'd keep an eye out, but that wasn't good enough.  Kai was in
trouble.  She needed help, and she needed it now.
        He picked up the phone, and dialed.
        The phone rang twice.  "What extension," a male voice asked.
        He glanced at the slip of paper.  No extension number.  Damn.
        "I need t'speak with Darius."
        "What extension?"  The voice sounded distinctly less friendly, and
he knew they were starting a trace.
        "This is an emergency."
        "Who the hell is this?"  All civility was gone now.
        Swearing internally, Logan decided abruptly to lay his cards out.  
"...Wolverine.  I need t'talk to Darius, an' I need t' talk to him NOW."
He popped his claws, knowing they could hear it over the phone.  "You
wanna jerk me around, or you wanna do like I asked, bub?"
        There was silence for a moment, then a quiet voice sounded, "Trace
checks out."
        "Hold on a minute."  The male voice didn't sound quite so hostile.
        There was no ring.  Just a simple, deep, "Yes?"
        "Darius?"
        There was a pause.  "Who is this?"
        "You and me got a problem, an' it's female, short, an' full of
attitude."
        "Kai," the voice said quietly.  "This is Logan, isn't it."

* * * * * * *

        Damned crossfire.  Bloody good strategy.  And she'd walked right
into it.
        The kid huddled against her as she popped out the clip and glanced
in it.  Fuck.  Two damn bullets.  Three would have been enough to subdue
her.  They shouldn't have needed more.
        And, good of a shot as she was, she wasn't a hundred percent
accurate.
        She still felt her blood boiling, and sweat coursed down her back.
Whether from nervousness or exertion she didn't know; her knees felt
wobbly.  More than likely it was a fear response coupled with dehydration.  
Symbiont or no, she needed water.
        "Give it up," one snarled at her.  "I don't care if you really are
Kai. You can't sit there all day."
        Hero worship?  From _these_ bozos?  "How much is he paying you for
your loyalty?  You do realize the son of a bitch is gonna take my escape out
of your hide."
        "You'll have to get away, first.  We've heard a lot about you.
Guess you're not so tough without your big, strong Darius to back you up."
        _My_ big strong Darius?  Oh jeezebus...
        Kai couldn't help it.  She started to laugh.
        They must have taken that as a sign of surrender, because the
constant flurry of bullets halted somewhat.  She took the opportunity to leap 
out onto the open floor, rolling and taking quick aim before firing.
        One of them went down with a red dot on his forehead.  She continued
the roll, twisting so that she faced the other direction.
        The other agent fired, and hit something other than the wall.
        Kai made it all the way over to see the boy, the kid, had followed
her out into the middle of the room and now sat down hard, his eyes confused
before they rolled back into his head.
        Kai felt something in her shudder at the sight, and dimly heard a
voice screaming, "NO!"  She didn't bother to aim.
        She didn't need to, anyway.  The other agent had intended to rush
her, and was less than two feet when she whirled and fired.
        To her surprise, she found herself dry-firing, trying to empty a
non-existent clip into his raggedly-breathing body.  It finally hit her
that they were down.  She stood shaking over the agent, sweat pouring
from her, and savagely kicked him in the head.  His breathing attempts
finally ceased.
        Kincaid.
        She grabbed the gun and an extra clip - these guys had been 
prepared for a gunfight.  It would be stupid to assume that he had only 
brought four men with him.  And there was that old voice... she didn't
recognize it, but she'd bet her life he'd been one of the ones to be
standing around when they'd given her the symbiont -
        Out of sheer guilt, she looked back at the kid.
        He was still breathing.  It sounded bubbly, but it was fairly
steadily.
        There's no way that's my son... but how could he still be alive?
        She knelt beside the sickly boy.  The shot looked like it went
straight through his left lung.  If that were true, these breaths should 
have been his last.  Instead, they seemed to get slightly stronger.
        She never even considered leaving him there.  With a muttered curse,
she scooped him up and stumbled down the hall.

* * * * * * *

        She made it to a grassy field before she finally fell.  The
dizziness was worse, her entire frame was shaking - almost mild convulsions 
ran through her at intervals.
        Something was really wrong, and if she didn't feel like such a sack
of shit, it would scare the hell out of her.
        What did they do to me?  The frightened thought was quiet, but it
was quickly building volume.
        The child was fine. He appeared just as sickly and weak as before,
but the bullethole was gone.  He squirmed out of her shaking grip, sitting
upright and staring at her.
        "They hurt you too, didn't they," he finally said quietly.  The
first thing she noted was the total lack of fear, the trust of his voice.
        The second - he had a English accent.
        There was _no way_ he could have picked up a English accent.  None
of the Three Eyes agents had sounded even foreign -
        But the boy's father had.
        "You're going to have a son.  A beautiful boy, and he's going to
live forever."
        The bullethole was healed.  His sickness was not.
        "It didn't _work_."
        She twitched violently and retched, using the last of her strength
to move her face from the puddle of bile soaking into the dry dirt.  Her
shakings were getting worse.
        Oh fuck oh shit no no no
        "... K-kai?  Will you be alright?"

* * * * * * *

        When she awoke she was being carefully carried, her head rolling
about on the shoulder of a man.  Even in her groggy state, she knew who it
was.  _No one_ else she knew actually put lemon juice in their hair.
        "D-darius," she slurred weakly.  She felt a tiny spark of anger at
him seeing her so weak, but it was crushed out by dark, cold exhaustion.  
A slight tremor ran through her body.
        "Kai?  Kai, you're going to have to tell me what's happened."  She
was placed gently on a leather seat and strapped in.  There were whirring
noises and the sound of a child screaming in panic.  Helicopter.
        "We put satellite tags in the shoulderpads of the new uniforms.
Picked up four of our operatives here.  They're dead, we've got another 
stiff on our hands, an unregistered medical facility... and what the hell
happened to you?  You look nearly dead."
        "S-some kind of new d-drug.  It's cold," she added as an
afterthought, already slipping away.  Something warm and scratchy was 
pulled  over her, and she fell into a deep sleep.

* * * * * * *

        The phone rang.
        Logan waited three rings, then slapped the speakerphone.
        "Yeah."
        "Logan."  The voice was deep, resonant, assured.
        Logan stopped, glanced at Bishop, who glanced back, and picked up
the receiver.
        "Yeah."
        "We've got her.  She should wake up some time today and knowing Kai,
she'll be on her way tomorrow, latest."
        Logan kept the growl out of his voice.  "Wake up?"
        There was a pause on the other end.  "She was pretty bad when we
found her.  And it's taken her a while to recuperate.  Her fever still hasn't
broken yet."
        Logan was quiet a while.  "She gonna live?"
        "...did she not...?"
        "About the symbiont?  Yeah, but if she's that bad, it's doing a
piss-poor job of helping her."
        He heard fingers drumming on the other end of the phone.  "I'm
worried about that too," he said finally.  "I guess we'll find out."  More
pause.  "You understand I can't bring you here-"
        "Yeah, that's not a problem," he said, rougher than meant to.  "Just
make sure she doesn't leave 'til she can handle herself alright."
        "I wouldn't," he responded.  "If she doesn't leave tomorrow, I'll
let you know."
        "Thanks.  This between us?"
        He heard the man snort lightly.  "She'd gut me if she knew we were
playing phone tag.  Probably do worse to you."
        "She'd try," Logan responded.
        "Yeah," he said.  "You ever get tired of the hero business, I'd like
to talk to you."
        Logan snorted.  "Huh."
        "No offense, but I hope I don't have to contact you again anytime
soon."
        "Yeah," Logan said, and replaced the receiver.
        Bishop astutely minded his own business, other than to say, "We
couldn't trace it."
        Logan laughed.  "I'm not surprised."

* * * * * * *

        Kai sipped at the tea and regretted this meeting for the thousandth
time.
        "What did Kincaid do to you."  Darius was not amused by the tale 
she told, nor did he believe her concise version of the 'facts'.  In fact,
he looked more angry about it than she did.  Of course, she was ruing her 
decision to run instead of slowly torturing Kincaid, so disappointment 
warred with fury on her face.  Darius didn't have anything to be disappointed 
about.
        "Tried a couple drugs on me.  Nice fuzzy friendly ones."
        "And where does the kid fall into all this?"
        She shrugged helplessly.  "I don't know.  He was there when I left,
I grabbed him on the way out."
        "And this?"  He held up a small blue cotton gown, a hideous
bloodstain and neat hole.  Kai didn't miss a beat.
        "I don't know.  He doesn't have a scratch on him.  Just sickly."
        Darius nodded.  "Know who he is?  He won't talk to us."
        Kai shook her head.  "His father is the unidentified stiff, but I
don't know who he was."
        Darius tilted his head to the side, a characteristic sign he was
contemplating telling her something he probably shouldn't.  Kai glared
at him.
        "Let me guess," she said dryly.  "You know who he is."
        Darius nodded coldly, sitting on the corner of his desk.  "We know
his fingerprints rather well.  He was one of the main sources of 'revenue'
for certain 'research projects' this organization used to develop."
        Kai's blood went cold, which was quite a change from the fever 
that had broken only hours ago.  Apparently her face did the same, because
Darius nodded grimly.
        "Not a loss.  He was married; we don't know where she is now.
Hopefully the boy'll turn up on the FBI's missing children's list, and
we can get him back to her.  Until then, he'll get whatever care he
needs here."
        Kai shrugged nonchalantly.  "Just so long as I don't have to
babysit."
        Darius watched her closely.  "Are you _sure_ you're alright?"
        Kai nodded, and delicately set the cup down on the heavy oak desk.
"I did break his collarbone," she told him smugly.  It was more to distract
him than to brag, but he threw his head back and laughed.
        "Thanks for the extraction, Darius, but I really have to go.
Logan's probably going nuts trying to figure out where I am."
        "Going... nuts," Darius echoed, then uncharacteristically
flinched away from the expected blow.
        Kai was flabbergasted.  He's _playing_!  Surely this isn't.... 
of course.  He felt responsible for the agents that had kept her there
while Kincaid played his little games.  With the time it had taken her
to recover, almost two days, he undoubtedly thought Kincaid had been
much rougher on her that she had admitted, and felt even worse knowing
some of _his_ people had been in on it.
        She rose to the bait, batting at him.  "You?  The respectable
leader, flinching from a mere woman?"
        He leaned back.  "I've arranged for transportation.  You can leave
whenever you like."
        Kai nodded.  "Thanks," she muttered quickly, rising to her feet.
Darius put a disbelieving hand behind his ear.
        Damn, the man felt guilty.  If this situation wasn't as serious as
it was, she would have enjoyed it.  But for some reason, her throat kept
trying to constrict.
        "Keep me informed about the boy, would you?"
        Darius raised an eyebrow.
        "If Kincaid wanted him once, chances are he'll want him again. Why
else not kill the kid with his dad?"  Her eyes narrowed.  "And if he takes
the bait... I wanna know.  And I want to lead the team."
        Darius was silent a moment, then opened his mouth.  Kai's eyes
narrowed as she saw the look on his face, but the words were the ones she 
wanted to hear.
        "You got it."
        She nodded respectfully and left, fists clenched at her sides.
        Darius would probably assume in anger.  At least he'd remember her
proud and strong.
        Terrified as hell was more like it.  But she'd be damned if she put
this on _ his _  shoulders.
        That's it, Kai.  Crank out the arrogance right to the end.
        Oh shut _ up _.

* * * * * * *

        It's just a matter of time, girl.  I repeat this to myself as I
drive down the road.  Oh, the rental car Darius got for me in the States is
nice, well equipped, and I use some of the luxuries now, cranking the CD
up loud.
        Still, it isn't the Jeep.
        The road keeps going right on ahead.  Salem Center and the city, the
apartment are a day behind me, and getting longer.
        I really need to stop.  I need to call him.
        He knows I've been to the apartment.  Knows that I've collected a
few things, and left a few.  But no note.
        I wonder if he can smell death on my scent.
        I'm falling apart.  Hah, at least I can admit it to myself.
Whatever part of the symbiont is left in me can't function without the 
rest,  and I've been injured enough over the last couple years that almost
everything was connected to it... down to my damned _knees._  Creed,
you stupid hairy asshole, I almost fell on my face today because my damn
_knees_ won't even support my weight for long.
        Can't do anything.  My voice is going, too.  Old throat injury.
Can't keep anything but water down.  Even driving is getting harder.  Won't 
be able to keep it up for long.
        Of all the stupid ways to die... this makes Sensei's look
intelligent.
        At least it isn't cold.
        There's a hotel.  That should be a good spot to spend the night.
Use the cash Darius gave me.  Can't have pesky heroes trying to rush to 
my rescue by tracing my credit card.  I half-laugh, ignoring the urge to
cough that the movement of my diaphragm brings.
        I'm thankful it's so difficult for Jean to find my mind.  I bet
Logan's got her searching twenty-four seven.  I walk into the hotel.  The 
lady behind the desk asks me the usual dumb questions, and then hands me a
card key.
        I almost don't make it to the room.  I have to lean on the wall for
support.  Why won't my fucking legs _work!  _Damn_ it, I feel like a
fucking cripple!  It takes me a while to get the card into the slot, and
then even longer before I make it to the bed, and collapse.
        When I wake up, it's midnight.
        The light on the phone is the only illumination in the room, other
than the streetlight coming through the horizontal shades.
        I have to call him.  Have to tell him.
        The thought is enough to make me sit up, and switch on a light.
Light hurts my eyes, now.  More than usual.  I dial the number straight - why
bother with collect?  Not my money I'll spend to pay for it.  And surely
I'm not important enough to warrant the Blackbird making an appearance
in the motel parking lot, even if he does somehow have that Cerebro
rigged to trace our apartment line.  I'll still be a day ahead of him.
        It rings forever.  He isn't home, he's out looking for me.  Shoulda
left a damn _note._
        "Kai?"
        Shit, _now_ why the hell is my throat all tight? Should have gotten
some damned water.
        "Logan.  Yeah, it's me."  Ooh, very intelligent.
        "Kai... you don't sound so hot."
        No, maybe not, but I sure feel hot.  Shit, Kai, don't be stupid.
"Logan... I'm going away for a while."
        There was silence on the other end, and my throat practically
strangles me.  Unlike every other woman in his life, I'm the only one with
prospects to live _with_ him for more than a lifetime, and now I'm leaving 
him, too.  Fucking selfish, that's what this is.
        "Kai-"
        "No, Logan.  I'm going away for a long while."  Now my voice sounds
weird, too.  No.  Dammit, you cannot tell that I'm crying.  You will
ignore the waver in my voice.  I deny them to myself, but the tears fall
on the pillow anyway.
        "And I probably won't come back."
        There's such silence then I think he might have put the phone down
and walked away.  How can he know?  What if I told him?  Told him the whole
thing?  He'd blame himself for not being there to protect me.  Shit, I'm
just becoming a fucking re-run for him.  All his women go off and die on
him.  The thought wrings a sob-like laugh from my dry throat.
        You didn't hear that, Logan, damn you!  You put the phone down and
you didn't hear that!
        "Yer pal at Three Eyes do that to you?  And I ain't talkin' about
Darius."
        That _does_ make me laugh.  "No," I finally tell him, silently cursing 
my damned leaky eyes.  "The bastard actually got away.  I think I mighta broke 
his collarbone, though."
        "Why not his neck," Logan muttered almost savagely.
        For some reason, I find that offensive.  "It's _my_ damned fight,
you arrogant bastard!  I'll decide how to fight it!"
        "Sounds like someone decided for you, darlin'."  It was quiet.  
He's right.  I don't even get to finish a single battle.  Didn't finish the
pancake battle, didn't finish Kincaid, hell, I am just one big fuck-up, huh.
        "Yeah, well... thought you'd like to know.  So you'd stop
worrying."  Who'm I kidding?  Like he'd admit he was worried anyway.
        He grunted quietly, almost... subdued.  "You can take care of
yourself."
        The words rip apart whatever little bit of my heart isn't already
rotting in my chest.  The hurt in his voice - like I _lied_ to him,
broke his trust.  I told him I could handle it.  Oh, hell, Logan, I'm so
sorry!  I never meant for this to happen! I-
        "Is JoJo okay?"
        There was a chuckle on that end, but with little mirth.  "Burnin'
mad about settin' you up like that.  Says she's got a little surprise if
they ever show their faces again."
        Something in Kai relaxed.
        "Oh, well, that's good."  Oh, brilliant, Kai!  Absolutely brilliant.
        Abruptly the fire alarm goes off, the red flashing against the
retina of my eyes.  Logan hears it, too.
        "What the hell is that?"
        "Fire alarm."  I sigh, trying to keep it smooth, to not cough.  
"I better go 'evacuate' or else they'll come looking."  Gee, even more
intelligent words from my mouth!
        "Yeah," Logan says finally.
        "Yeah," I say back.  I wanted to say, I love you.  Maybe he heard 
it anyway; I can hear him breathing even over the screaming alarm.
        "Yeah," he says, and I hang up the phone before I can lose it
completely.  Damn you, Logan!  Damn you for making me love you!  And
damn me for dying on you!
        I wipe the tears before they can make me look puffy-faced and make
my slow way to the door.   I got a first floor room, so I wouldn't have any
stairs to worry about, and smoke is pouring from the stairway door.  It's 
really intelligent of hotels to turn off elevators, and then have a fire 
in the stairwell.
        Something pulls me toward the door.  Maybe I can just prop it open
so that the second floor people won't have to burn their hands opening the
damned door.  It does prop open.  Smoke everywhere, biting smoke, and
it's humid as a damned jungle in there.
        And there's someone, screaming.
        I find myself heading to the sound before I ever know that it's
human and not the scream of flames.  Spent too much time with the X-Men.  
Kai, the heroine.  If I wasn't coughing so much I'd laugh.
        I end up falling down the stairs toward the basement, really, but
the smoke is a little less near the floor and so I'm still conscious.  The
screaming is louder.  A little girl, it sounds like.
        What's with these kids, all of the sudden?
        It's the smoke making my eyes water.
        I grab her; I'm coughing too hard to say anything, but I shove her
toward the stairs.  It's completely quiet, so close to the fire - hot.
Must be the boiler room.  Has to be.
        I hope someone comes for her.  I can't make it up the stairs.  I
hope she can.
        I don't feel her hand in mine, anymore.  I don't feel the hot tile
under my cheek.  Can't smell the smoke.  It's just hot, and damp.
        Symbiont loves heat.  Loved.
        I wonder... I wonder why I'm not breathing.

* * * * * * *

        What the hell is this?  There's light, and I feel a breeze on my
cheek. And I smell -
        No, that's impossible.
        I open my eyes.
        Logan stares down at me.  "Well," he finally grunts, looking fairly
gruff.  "You did say the symbiont likes heat.  Guess you weren't kidding."
        Confused, I glance around.  I'm naked, and wrapped in a fire
blanket, literally yards away from the still-smoking structure of a hotel.  
The next thing I see is a face, blue, and rather furry.  I find myself
smiling.
        "Hank.  It's daylight, and you're awake?"
        My voice sounds different again.  Not hoarse, like I'd just inhaled
a lot of smoke.
        Waitaminute -
        Hank looks past me, at Logan.  "The burns have healed, her lungs
sound fine.  I'd say, for surviving a boiler explosion, you're in very healthy
shape, Kai."
        "Rising from the ashes is _my_ department, dear," came the teasing
voice of the Phoenix behind me.  "Do you know how hard you are to track
down?"
        I smile slightly, and look up at Logan, who's wearing his gruffest
expression.  "Yeah," I say.