As they headed towards the lounge the two of them heard the voices of Logan and Nate drifting from the entrance hallway, and although it cause Jean to pause for a moment she didn't head towards the two of the, but remained by the Professor's side.

As she got closer to the lounge, to the buzz of conversation, she felt trepidation creep in slightly, and reflexively strengthened her telepathic shields. Charles noted the tension that formed in her mind though and paused, looking up at her, "Jean, just relax." he told her. "They know you, just as you know all of them. You won't find judgement in that room, nor fear, just relax, and know that everything is fine."

She took a deep breath and nodded, and let herself and her shields relax a little more. Closer to the door she felt her rapport with Scott grow stronger, and with one more deep breath and slow exhale she followed Charles and entered the room.

"Good evening everyone." Charles said to the room, looking at all those present, acknowledging them all with a nod even though he had already known who was there. The fact that he seemed at ease would be a help to those gathered, that although he had concerns of his own they were comforted by knowing things with Jean were not a threat.

Jean gave the half smile she often used, the one that Nate easily mirrored, at everyone but chose to remain silent. Her eyes noted where Scott was, and she crossed the room towards where he was stood. She gave his arm a slight squeeze then took at seat on one of the other sofas.

"Well now that the Xavier Institute Variety show has finished." Charles deep voice rang out, his smiling eyes falling on Alex and Kurt, "I wonder if I might commandeer the television?"

He looked towards the set where, the baseball game had finished, unobserved by anyone since the caper.

At exactly six o'clock, after the commercials had finished, familiar music came from the large TV's surround speakers, which caused some of the students to groan, they didn't want to watch CNBC's early evening news but judging by some of the adults in the room they were going to have to. Well they didn't have to, but if it meant moving to another room then the chance was they were going to stay put, in case something else interesting happened today.

Other students, such as Kitty, tried to pay attention in case something came up that Professor Xavier might use in his "The Mutant in Society" class. As the two newsreaders introduced themselves Kitty kicked Jubilee in the shin. "Hey." Jubilee said followed by a chorus of "Shh"'s from people. "Pay attention" Kitty hissed back, "in case of class."

Jubilee glanced at the TV and sighed, then went back to filing her nails.

"... and I'm Shannon Canosa." The blond woman said, "and here are tonight's top stories."

Professor Xavier's face changed suddenly, as he sensed what was to come. *X-Men* he sent telepathically to those in the mansion, who were not in the lounge. *I would recommend turning on CNBC*

Behind the newsreader, the view screen changed to show firemen putting out the remains of a fire, police controlling the crowds.

"Terror gripped the hearts of many New Yorkers early this afternoon when a suicide bomber set off an explosion that ripped through one of Manhattan's popular entertainment spots, 'The In Crowd'. Five people died in the blast, amongst them was Edward Fariston, the chairman of Fariston Chemicals Incorporated, a close friend and ally of the Boston Senator, Robert Kelly.

"Fariston, who recently spoke out at a recent press conference in support of the proposed 'Mutant Registration Act' put forward by Senator Kelly last month, was dining at the club and was meant to be joined by the Senator, who is currently staying in the Big Apple. This has sparked rumours that the blast was intended to kill the Senator and that the culprits behind the blast were mutants, but this has, so far, not been proven. We go now to Bruce McNamara who is at the site of The In Crowd. Bruce?"

The screen split in two and an older man, with a ridiculously white set of teeth, started talking. He went on about how the police had reported that the bomb had been quite a high tech device that had contained two highly volatile chemicals, that upon mixing made the explosion far worse than had just one been used. HazMat Investigators had not yet released which two chemicals they were, and the identity of the Bomber would take time to find out.

Five people had been confirmed dead, and 27 wounded. A common concern was that had it happened later that night, when the place would have been packed with clubbers, then a lot more people would have died.

"And what of the rumour that the suicide bomber was a mutant, or that mutants were behind this terrible incident Bruce?" Shannon was asking.

"Well Shannon it's not been confirmed or denied, but there is a lot of ill feeling towards these so-called mutants in New York City as we all know. The fact that Fariston was well know to be a strong supporter of Senator Kelly, and that Kelly himself was meant to be here has given rise that this was an attempt to assassinate the Senator before he could get full backing for the Mutant Registration Act."

Back in the studio Shannon nodded, and thanked Bruce, and turned back to the audience, "We'll keep everyone posted as this story develops... Frank.." she finished, handing over to her co-presenter.

"Thanks Shannon." he replied then turned to face the camera.

"Senator Kelly, despite this afternoon's bombing is still meant to be attending as one of the guests of honour at the NYPD Ball tonight at the Guggenheim Museum Conference Hall. We go now to Trish Trilby who is at the Guggenheim and will no doubt be giving us more updates later on tonight. Trish?"

The screen cut away completely from the studio and to the attractive brunette that was Trish Trilby CNBC's star reporter, and the sometime girlfriend of Hank McCoy. She was stood on the steps outside of the famous museum, where things were in preparation for receiving the NYPD.

"Thank you Frank." she said with a smile. "Yes, I'll be here at the Guggenheim tonight, as it plays host to our City's finest for the Annual NYPD Ball. Senator Kelly has long been a supporter of Police Departments back in his home state of Massachusetts, but also the NYPD due to his eldest son William being part of the force for the last 6 years. William Kelly, who was prompted to Captain last month, has been a key member of the Homicide Department and was a key investigator into the Zhang Murders back in April.

"In light of the tragedy that took place at the "In Crowd" earlier today, and the fact that the Senator will be attending this evening, a crowd of anti-mutant protesters have already gathered here at the museum."

The camera panned to Trish's right, where indeed a crowd had gathered, behind lines of police tape, a number of whom were carrying signs, expressing sentiments such as "Mutant Registration Now!", "Protect America from the Mutant Menace!", "Kelly In! Mutants Out!"

The camera panned back to Trish, "So far the protesters have been peaceful, and police opinion is that it will remain that way, but there is a definite angry response to the events of today. Senator Kelly, and the other guests, should be arriving in the next two hours, with the Ball starting at 8.

"I'll be back later with further coverage tonight at 10. This is Trish Trilby for CNBC News, handing back to the studio."

"Thanks Trish," Frank replied.

Trish went from the view screen and was replaced by a picture of a very attractive blond in a green bikini, "In other news, supermodel Ronnie Lake is in New York City for the next fortnight, appearing in..."

Ororo arrived just as the news program began. She did not say anything, usually Charles had good reason to watch the news on the TV in the lounge. Her face remained impassive as she watched. In her years as an X-Man she had seen worse than this, but nevertheless she took the matter quite seriously.

"I think we had better do our own investigation." Ororo said. "If there is a mutant group behind this we must bring them to justice to prove not all mutants are the enemy."

"And if there are no mutants behind this, we must work with the authorities to bring the real killers to justice." She put up a hand to quell any protests about fiding the killer of a mutant-hater. "Killing is never the right thing to do, and we must show we understand that by bringing any remaining assassins to justice." She said sternly.

"What say the rest of you?" Ororo said, glancing from X-Man to X-Man.

Rogue's face tightened in anger as she raised a hand and pointed at the television, now showing the scantily clad Ronnie Lake. "Well aint this just as pretty as a picture? Just what we all need, some damn fool hot heads makin' our lives more difficult..." She turned to face Psylocke, seated on another sofa, next to Warren...

Betsy didn't know what to say for a few seconds. Most of her reaction was outraged horror, but there was a fading thought of "Oh great, how am I meant to get a date when this sort of thing ruins it!!!". She dismissed that and nodded at Rogue. Glancing down, she realised she had a handful of severely crushed popcorn...

Taking the nod as agreement, Rogue turned to the Professor... "We gotta go there, make sure no more foolishness happens at that there Ball..."

"I agree. Is it likely that whoever it is has resources to have a second bomb on standby - or to produce one at very limited notice?" Betsy added.

Hank, hanging in the doorway that Ororo had passed, to take a natural stage-center, mused about her vigorous approach. He himself had been the 'poster-boy' mutant during his several years with the Avengers, and had played off of that numerous times while part of the NYC based X-Factor. He knew several of New York's Finest, and as a scientific investigator, he had sometimes been consulted on very important or high-profile cases. Of them all, Hank had done the best work in breaking the 'X ceiling' that stymied most mutants. And he had some thoughts about this.

"I think that investigating is a good idea. I also believe that the X- Factor team has, on occasion, shown they can work with the police. It might be good to bring in at least Jean and Scott to act as principle liaison with them -- something that I am sure they can convince them to do." He nodded at Scott, wondering how his friend was going to handle this. He also looked to Bishop, as he had heard that Bishop had more or less in a cop in whatever altiverse from which he had sprung forth.

"As for myself, I believe I can parlay my Avengers Reserve clearances into attending the ball, particularly if I can talk Trish into a 12th hour invitation. While it may present me as a prominent focus on anti- mutant fears, I am also a public figure, and I may draw attention of any anti-mutant assassins or troublemakers. And I am a much harder target to hit than any US Senator. I could even wear an image- inducer, and remain untargeted. I shall allow our tacticians to muse regarding those prospects. Logan and Betsy have their own ways of getting into a bash like this, and both are able to be discrete about it, in their own fashion. As for Rogue and Remy, they make a good pairing for close observation of the crowds. I am basically suggesting that Team Blue handle something like extra interior security, while Jean helps you, Ororo, to lead investigations with the Gold team – both with some form of agreement with NYPD." He realized it was a novel suggestion. His friends and family had rarely bothered to do anything with anybody in an official capacity. But both the X-Factor members, and Hank himself, through his Avengers standing, had ways of making this possible. He felt it was time to `make it so', in the words of one of his favorite television characters.

"I'm throwing this into the pot, my friends, as I believe this may be the kind of pivot on which improved human-mutant cooperation may be built. Of course, it presents risks." Oddly, he and Trish had talked about the benefits and risks of this kind of approach. He wondered if Trish was the one who had called Charles about the evening news reports. It could be others. The Xavier mutant underground was extensive, with both human-normals and mutants in the media.

He shrugged, then, feeling as though he weighed nearly a ton. "I should note, I also have frequented `The In Crowd' with my friend Simon Williams. Most of you would know him as Wonder Man. I know the management, and can at least help to smooth the way to a site inspection, whether or not we work with the police. I also wish to add, I would be visiting the site in my own person, as it is possible acquaintances or friends of mine may have been injured or killed." Hank worked hard to keep the ache in his throat from bruising his words, and to blink back the tears he would not shed just now. He took a deep breath before saying the rest of what he felt he should say. "It is possible that the `Crowd was bombed because I am a very public mutant and the place has been quite good to mutants in general, and to me, specifically. And…Trish and I had dinner there nearly three weeks ago."

Hank realized with a start that he had not seen Trish since then. The changes had kept him busy, and while they had talked on the phone, it was not the same. He wondered how she was bearing up, as she had friends who frequented the `Crowd, too.

Professor X listened to everything that had been said so far, but was not yet ready to voice his own opinions until he had heard Scott's views.

He did however interject, "I believe that Warren received an invitation to this ball." He looked at Warren, "Is that right?"

Warren nodded, "Yes that's right, as head of Worthington Corporation I got an invite. I also agree, something needs to be done. Like Beast I'm publically known. I wasn't planning on attending but if needs must I'll go in, blue skin and all."

At this point, Betsy interjected.
"I think it would make sense if I go in with Warren. My telepathy might be of some use in determining what's going on in there. Also if he has a woman with him, it might avoid him having to spend half his time dealing with female admirers."

It was quite obvious that she wasn't suggesting this from some personal insecurity, it just made sense to her.

"I've got experience of that sort of work and situation - I think I'd be more use in there than I would anywhere else."

As she finished speaking, she looked over at Hank. The idea that the place had been bombed because of, rather than by mutants was a whole different angle. So very unfair that he should feel guilty for simply having dinner somewhere...

Realising that more than one pair of eyes was upon him, Scott shook his head to clear it of the thoughts that had been running rampant inside his mind.

‘Put it to one side Scott, no time to be soft now it is time to work’ he thought to himself as he cleared his throat. In the split second that it took for him to move from the morose cloud that had been hovering over his head to all business, leader of the X-Men his unique mind cogitated over the news report that a casual observer would have assumed he had missed … or ignored. However, just as he was able to see the World as one of geometry and angles, so to was he able to see, hear and process many diverse things at once.

The words of the reporter, the scenes of the news report itself, the reactions of his colleagues, all fell into a pattern in his head and assembled themselves into a working strategy and less than a second after he had focussed himself on the matter at hand, he spoke.

“Listen up people.

"It doesn’t really matter at the moment if ‘The In Crowd’ was bombed because of it’s attitude to mutants, or because they were after the Senator’s friend. He bottom line is that people were hurt … people were killed … and that whatever the reason we, as always, are going to be the scapegoats for it.

"The NYPD ball tonight is a logical target for another attack if indeed they were after Edward Fariston … but it could also be a trap for us, another way to make us … mutants in general … look like a menace.

"If we are seen ‘skulking’ there then people will assume that we are up to something ... if trouble starts and we help then we will be blamed as the cause.”

Scott pauses as he realises that people are about to interrupt and voice their concerns, but holding up a hand to stop them he looks slowly around at the expectant faces before continuing.

“… That doesn’t matter though … to the World at large we are the mutant menace but if by being there we can save one single life, if by being there we can stop something before it begins.

"Then we will be there!”

Squaring his shoulders, all business now, he indicates each person as he speaks their name.

“Warren, I know that this is putting you into the Lion’s Den so to speak but I want you inside that building, suited and booted, dressed to impress. Make small talk, play the billionaire as you used to ... keep your sharp eyes open my friend, and your ears to, and see what you can come up with.

"Betsy, you are right, you should be there. You will be the ornament on Warren’s arm to any outside observer, but I want to you be more than that … I want you to be the eyes that see even further than Warren’s own … and I want you to keep each other safe.

"At the first sign of trouble I want you to give a telepathic call to Kurt

As Scott issued instructions, Betsy nodded, satisfied that her request had been listened to. Scott had voiced almost exactly what she had been thinking - she and Warren would easily be able to convey the impression of a couple, but more to the point, she knew she was an effective partner in that sort of situation.

Her mind skipped ahead, and started pondering what the reaction of the anti-mutant demonstrators would be when they arrived. Not so much for her, she was bothered about Warren. Knowing how much he had been through, the last thing he needed was an angry group of people yelling abuse at him...Well at least he would be with someone...with her.

For now though, she needed to think about what was ahead. What they were looking for. The only thing that bothered her was that they might become a distraction from any suicide bomber who might be lurking there...which of course made her job even more important. Being in amongst those present, mingling, gave her a far better chance of catching surface thoughts of imminent oblivion...

Scott's voice cut into the room again "… Kurt, I want you on top of the roof, out of sight, and I want you to do NOTHING unless you get the word. Then I want you to get Warren and Betsy out of there, fast!

"Hank, first of all I DON’T want you to blame yourself for any of this, it wasn’t your fault ..”

‘Always easy to help other people and their feelings isn’t it, easier than shedding the burden of guilt for yourself’ Scott thought to himself, before continuing.

“ … but I think that you can be of more use at the club than at the ball. See what you can find out about the chemicals that were used in the explosion itself. Don’t forget that it is a bit of a coincidence that Fariston was blown up with an advanced chemical bomb when he owns a chemical firm!

"Logan ...”

“ … if you go with Hank between the two of your and your sense and technical skills I know that you will come up with something. Bishop see what you can dig up from the NYPD … and Kitty before you get too comfortable on the floor with that popcorn I want you to give him a hand, your skill with computers will help dig up as much as possible on Fariston as well as the ongoing investigation.”

"Neat." Kitty said, glad she had been picked to go along, it wasn't often the Reserves did when the Mansion had a full house. "No fair." came a sulky whisper from Jubilee.

Alex listened to the news report in shock. Who would want to harm so many innocents? Considering the revealations Hank had expressed about the mutant support and donations that the establishment had made, he wouldn't have put it past an Anti-mutant organisation to make a first strike. Equally who was to say that it wasn't the Brotherhood or similar mutant group looking to make a name for themselves? The pictures torn into his mind bringing up flashbacks from Genosha, where as a magistrate Alex had hunted other mutants for the sake of order, Cameron Hodge's Order. The guilt panged at him again, he had done this to others, what right had he to criticise?

No, No, he was wrong, it wasn't him. Hodge's officials had mindwashed him after his re-appearance. He hadn't known he was a mutant, it had only been thanks to Scott he had remembered and taken a stand. Upstate wasn't going to become an extension of Genosha! Alex would help investigate, make a stand and more importantly make some recompense for his own marked soul. As Scott listed the assignments he waited, Alex wanted to take a front role and eliminate the threat before it got out of control. He waited and waited.......

Looking around at the rest of the room, Scott continued.

“That leaves the rest of us to act … as Hank put it … as some extra security. We need to be either inside that building or near enough to contain any issues as they arise.

"I want this done cleanly, efficiently and quickly people, but most of all I want it done well.

"Five lives are already too many, as Ororo said, let’s not lose anymore!”

Alex was now fuming, he had been an X-man before and no doubt he would be so again, yet Scott had sidelined him! Alex may as well sat in the Blackbird with his feet up on the control panel, hands behind head whistling whilst contemplating his navel. Alex would be having words with him and soon. For now he bit his lip best not to make the scene here, there was a time and a place.

"Uh Cyke?" Jubilee's voice broke the tension of the moment, "Logan's like, umm, not here. I'll go get em' for ya." she finished, and started tp head out of the lounge.

Charles sat back and listened as Scott spoke, noting his plans were sound except for the fact they utilised X-men from both teams without the consideration of Ororo's input.

It might be that the Weather Goddess had no objections to the plans, but regardless of that the stress of the day's activities had blindsided him slightly.

"We have time." Charles said, it was only just after six. "Let us proceed to the war room, and finalise there. I will contact Robert telepathically, he is still close to the city centre and I am sure his good friend Peter Parker might be able to furnish him with an extra press pass."

The students left in the lounge looked a bit disappointed that the "action" was being taken out of their sight, but then that's what usually happened in the Mansion.

The look of concern on Storm's face darkened to one of almost anger as Cyclops speech finished. She was glad the Professor at least remembered she was still a team leader and wanted them to finalise things downstairs.

"So, Warren and Betsy will be our man and woman on the inside." She agreed. "Kurt will the incredible Nightcrawler be comfortable amongst the gargoyles on the roof?" She asked her friend. If things went bad to the point that Nightcrawler could not save the skins of Warren and Betsy, they were probably beyond help.

"I do not think having too large of a mutant presence at this function is a good or practical idea." She said. "While I appreciate the sentimnent Scott, I think it would work out for the best if your team was out of sight, waiting and ready to spring into action on Nightcrawler's signal rather than looking over the shoulders of high society."

"Meanwhile, Jean, Bishop, Bobby, Piotr and myself will attemmpt to track down any clues or leads that the police care to share with us. Between Jean and I, we should be able to come in a hurry if trouble requires us to intervene."

She glanced around the room to make sure everyone was listening. "May I remind you all that hatred of what is different is not inevitable, nor is it irreversible." She said, sparing a hard glance in Scott's direction. "We should not assume that we will always be viewed as the enemy, nor should we accept it." She sighed, obviously a little annoyed at being provoked into pontificating. "But we can debate that in the classroom. Don't give me that face Jubilation."

From her positon by the lounge door Jubilee quickly headed out, not wanted to get in any more trouble for the face she had pulled.

With a sigh Scott rubbed a hand across his forehead as he watched the emotions stream visibly across Storms face. For so long ... most of his adult life ... he had led the X-Men, training day after day, working night after night, pushing himself harder and further than anyone else simply because he had to be the best. When the original members had gone their seperate ways he had stayed on with the 'new' team and had tried hard to share the lead with Storm then, with varying degrees of success.

... and now, after taking the lead in X-Factor, two months after rejoinig the X-Men full time, two months after agreeing to split the teams and lead solely the so called Blue Team while Storm lead the Gold he sometimes STILL found it hard to remember that he wasn't the sole voice in command anymore.

Storm had proved herself ... time after countless time ... as someone more than worthy to lead the X-Men in her own right, but still it was instinctive for Scott to step forward, to take charge, to lead. Storm had been so many things in life, a childhood beggar and thief, a Goddess, a hero, a powerless advernturer, a mutated slave and then finally full circle to hero and leader once more.

Scott had really only ever been one thing.

Leader of the X-Men.

It was difficult stepping back and sharing that with anyone else, even someone he trusted as much as he did Storm, but it was something that he was going to have to do.

"You are right Ororo, hatred is not inevitible and we shouldn't assume that we will always be viewed as the enemy and most definitely shouldn't accept it" he said softly, "and I apologise for making decisions for both of our teams" he continued.

" ... however, at this moment, right now tonight mutants ARE hated, mutants ARE viewed as the enemy and there is nothing that we can do to change that. All that we can do is our best to ensure that we do not exacerbate the situation anymore that it already is. In an ideal World we wouldn't be hated, we wouldn't be feared ... you find that World and I will move there myself, but for now all that we can do ... all that I can do is fight to make the dream of that World come true"

He pauses for breath as he stares at Ororo directly.

"It seems that we have two different ideas of what to do here ... we can let one team do one thing on it's own while the other does something different, or we can blur the lines between blue and gold for a moment and pool the talents ... we can remember that behind the two teams there is something bigger, something more important, there is the ONE team that matters

... the X-Men"

Scott walked over to stand beside Professor Xavier and Ororo.

"We don't have much time to decide this Storm ... I never intended that all the X-Men would go into the ball en masse and loiter against the walls waiting for something to happen, I may be called Cyclops but I am not as short-sighted or single minded as that, I merely think that the best people for each task should do it ... with the rest who have powers not suited to subtlety, myself included, should be kept in reserve in case there is no other alternative but to use power and force"

He cocked his head slightly to one side as he stared across the body of the founder of the X-Men, the man who brought them altogether, as if he was a bridge between them, directly at Ororo once more.

"Your call Storm."

As Jubilee headed out she realised she didn't actually know where Wolvie was, but when the voices of the Cuckoo's echoed through her head, pointing out where they had last seen Logan with Nate, it gave her a place to start looking.

Heading to the entrance hall she found it vacant. "Ok." she said to herself, "If I was Wolverine, and I wanted to shout at the new kid, where would I go?"

She started to think.

Peter got up and took a quick shower, to rid himself of the cold sweat that still clung to his massive body. As he stepped out of the shower, the professors voice echoed in his mind, and he reached for the remote control.

As the report continued, Peter shifted his form to organic steel, the reinforced floorboards creaking. It was far easier and faster to dry himself in this form, although the towel tore slightly in his hands.

He shifted back to flesh again, and dressed quickly, then headed downstairs. Seeing the rest of the X-Men walking off towards the War Room, he noted Jubilee in the hallway, looking puzzled, and stopped.

‘What is wrong, Jubilee?’, he asked the girl.

"Oh hey Pete." Jubilee replied, "I'm just hunting down the Wolvester. Everyone else is mobilising to the War Room. There might be trouble at the NYPD ball tonight as that nutball Senator Kelly'll be there. The news think that that club that got blown up, that it was done by mutants hoping to get Kelly." she explained.

'I see. Sadly, I've not seen Logan since I awoke. But I'm sure I heard his voice on the stairs while I was dressing. Seemed to be talking to someone. If there is anyone who would be able to track him down, I'm sure it'll be you.'

'Excuse me, I should join the others and get up to speed.'

Peter headed off towards the War room, catching up with Ororo and the other team members.

Jean again kept silent, as people spoke. All the plans seemed good so far, but she did note that Scott had perhaps spoken out of line, forgetting Ororo's position of authority.

She stood up when the Professor said to adjourn to the War Room, it was for the best, so that they didn't frighten the students.

But then tempers had flared slightly again, dampened by the Professor leaving the room.

She stood still for a moment, then began to follow, still feeling a little uneasy.

*'Ro.* she telepathically said to her best friend, *I won't make excuses for him you know that, but it's been a hard day for Scott.*

She smiled at him gently, as she walked past, and out of the door. *For all of us really... but for Scott, well... things are complicated... I'm not sure if I should go out into the field.*

There it was said, albeit using telepathy and to one person, but it was the truth. She wasn't sure.

"And one we'll make downstairs." Charles repeatedly firmly, not wanting to worry the children any more or have an argument develop between Scott and Ororo.

Professor X then deftly made his way to the door, and towards the elevator, pressed the button and waited for the doors to open.

As they did he gestured, "Join me?"

Cyclops Walked towards the elevator where the Professor waited, Scott nodded his assent to his teacher's query.

"I have made my call." Storm said simply. "Thank you." She stepped into the elevator ahead of Scott as he offered it. It bothered her quite a bit that Scott had preteneded to listen to what she had said and then immeadietly fired off about how there was 'nothing they could do' about being hated. Storm thought if she had been unclear about her point of view being just the opposite. The goal of the X-Men was rarely self-defense, it was promoting tolerance.

Of all the people who had challenged her authority over the years, and there were many, only Scott had ever done so successfuly. And it irked her every time. She had not sought leadership of the X-Men, but once given that opportunity she would never relinquish it. Once she had been in control of keeping her friends, her children and siblings as she thought of them, safe she could not step down. To Storm it would be like abandoning them.

*Jean, I will soon need to know if you can help or not. Are you well, my friend?* She thought to Jean Grey. *We must talk, soon.* Ororo regretted she could not talk right now.

Jean paused from her place in the corridor before responding, *I think I am, but for safety sake I would say do not put me amongst the civillians. I'll can act as security monitor outside with Kurt, if you deem it, but what happened earlier, with my telekinsis, it was.. unexpected. I do not want to repeat that in... public.*

Jean left it at that, knowing that the Professor would no doubt want to talk to the Ororo and Scott in private. She then followed the others, down through a door and followed the steps that would lead to the sub basements.

Kurt sat in silence, the happiness on his face washed away by the images on the TV. 5 people dead, and the finger was being pointed at mutants.

Yes it was a "rumour" at the moment, but it had been said on public television and you could almost see the headlines of the newspapers tomorrow. Five Dead In Mutant Attack!

Mission planning started in earnest, and Kurt heard Scott metaphorically step on Ororo's toes, but he also kept one ear towards the TV.

He'd do whatever was required of him, even if it meant hiding amonst the gargoyles, lurking in the shadows. He had worked under both Scott's leadership and under Storm's both were capable, but now he fell under the responsibility of Storm, and he'd follow through in whatever she required.

As people started to head towards the War Room he glaced at Kitty, "Katzchen, it may be that Cyclops spoke out of line, do not be too disappointed if you aren't to go with us."

Kitty nodded, she'd figured as much, "I'm still going to down down there though." she replied, meaning the War Room.

Kurt nodded, it was the right thing to do.

He sat still for the moment, catching the weather, then vanished in a cloud of black smoke, and reappeared three floors down, sat on a perch in the War Room.

"All good things..." he muttered to himself.

Hank had held his tongue, half expecting to see a breakout of something akin to the battle he had heard that Ororo and Scott had conducted once upon a time for leadership. He was not disappointed to see that this did not happen. As Charles took the field leaders out of the room, Hank sighed in relief."As nobody argued against my going to the club to investigate, I I will go to make some preparations for that, and a few phone calls that need attending to. If Logan returns, have him check his pager in a few minutes for instructions on where to meet me and which vehicle we are taking." He also reached down, clicked the panels to release his belt buckle, and turned it around, set it back in place. In place of the X there was the A he deserved as a reserve Avenger. That unambiguous symbol could go far to keeping certain confrontations from reaching the critical stage, and even as a reserve Avenger, he could offer his services to the authorities. "I also believe it wise to attend that scene in civilian garb, for most of us, but also to remain prepared for action. Bishop, if you need letters of introduction, I can write them quickly for you to present to Captain Farrel of Special Crimes and Mr. Hanscomb of CSI. I'll be in my room for a few minutes, and then in the garage."

Pacing down the stairs, Betsy began to run options through her mind. True, she wasn't a team leader, but there remained an obligation to consider all the angles. If she could think of anything that might help, then she was doing her job.

She was pleased that Scott had agreed with her attendance at the Ball. Both she and Warren had plenty of experience of this sort of thing. Imagine the newspaper gossip lines "New Couple: Billionaire Worthington and ex-Supermodel Betsy Braddock". Except of course any newspaper gossip lines not concerned with mutants 'daring' to attend the Ball, would read "New Couple: Billionaire Worthington and mystery woman". A snide little voice added that at least Kwannon had been good at her job so she didn't have to worry about "New Couple: Billionaire Worthington and PROLIFIC ASSASSIN!!!"

The first thing she suspected they were going to have to get through were the reported anti-mutant protests outside the museum. Disliking the thought of the inevitable insults, Betsy pondered whether she would be able to cover up the red mark across her eye. If she could look like a normal attractive rich woman who had Chosen to date a mutant, maybe for the better. If only for a cheap attempt to manipulate the gossip columns to positive mutant publicity for a change...

More importantly, once they were inside. She wasn't even slightly worried about getting out of there. She trusted Kurt to be able to get them out of any situation that required it, and even if a situation led to her losing her telepathy, she trusted the other x- men to notice.

She wasn't even exceptionally worried about the possibility of an awkward encounter with Senator Kelly. What was preying on her mind was the difficulty of picking up the thoughts of any suicide bombers before they managed to achieve their goal. Professor Xavier wasn't going as far as she knew, and Jean...Jean wasn't exactly in a position to risk herself at the moment. This left her as the only telepath there, and whilst not being worried, she was definitely...taking it seriously.

Betsy glanced across at Warren. She was fairly sure this hadn't been what he'd intended for a first date.

As the mutants moved quickly through the mansion Warren's mind was also working, after a good couple of weeks of peace and quiet something had to happen today.

But that was life for the X-Men, building bridges between humans and mutants first, social lives second. He didn't really think that, the Professor's ideals were good ones, one that Warren did respect, but if he didn't get a bit weighed down some of the time by it all then he wouldn't be normal... worse than that he'd probably be Scottie.

As the arrived on the first sub-basement floor he caught sight of Betsy looking at him. *Damn.* he thought, *I'll have to cancel the reservations. Roberto won't be pleased.*

At least Betsy understood the life, previously when he had started to date a girl things could often become an issue when he'd be called away at the drop of the hat. Candy, in particular had asked a lot of questions, then when she had been kidnapped Arcade he'd had to answer some.

Then after she had died and when Warren had once again found himself in the dating game he found the questions slowly started to come back.

Then he'd lost his wings, and over night had had gone from being the Avenging Angel to the blue-skinned Angel of Death. Not exactly the type of pin-up the girls were used to, or at least that's what he'd told himself. Then Betsy had walked into his life, and before he knew it he was volunteering to go to some other dimension called the Crimson Dawn so he could find an elixir to save her life. Wolverine had gone as his healing factor and scent meant he'd be able to get in, find the stuff and ensure he'd get out. Warren on the other hand.. well as the Candian had said, "It's gotta be love, bub."

Was it love? When had it gone from an attraction to love? Warren had missed that, but the more time he spent with her, the more it seemed possible, and not that things had actually started to get interesting... mutant life had caught up with them both.

He smiled at her and said, "I'll make this up to you, I promise."

Betsy nodded "It's alright. A ball, fancy clothes, and the possibility of danger and adventure. What more could a girl ask for?"

She grinned, to make it clear she was only put out at the circumstances, not him.

"Heh, so roses, chocolates and an annoying waiter playing a violin badly, not your thing?" he said smirking, "I'll remember that then."

"Definitely never the latter " she answered. "The first two...well, you'll have to work that out."

At that moment, they reached the bottom of the stairs, and her demeanour shifted slightly from flirtatious to concentration. For one thing, how was Warren going to work out any of her views on roses and chocolates if she didn't find any suicide bombers before they found her.

"Challenge accepted." he replied, "I'll look forward to it."

*Just need to get though tonight.* he thought to himself.

It wasn't like Rogue to be so quiet in herself, her outburst earlier had felt..strange, like someone else. It was so hard finding a voice amongst all these strong personalities, often the tension was thick in the air, looks passed between people, subtle and obvious all at once. Content to follow the others she allowed herself a moment to revel in the feeling of anticipation coursing through her veins. She didn't like it much, but it was...seductive in it's way;

action....violence...protecting her new friends....

There was every possibility that those outside would be required to calm things down or effect a strategy in the event of an incident, whatever it may be. A slow grin teased the edges of her mouth.

Shaking her head to clear such thoughts, Rogue listened hard to what the others were saying, or more tellingly not saying, as they headed to the War Room, thinking softly to herself " shame ah aint goin to the Ball, I woulda pure loved to wear somethin nice for a change ".

Alex followed the others out. Well not so much followed as stalked Scott, there he was Mr Goodie little two shoes, I'm so right all the time soldier boy. Man, the old prude needed to relax half the time. Jean worried him and he was conecerned that maybe she shouldn't be coming on the mission at all. Yes, she could pass as a normal human, should the Phoenix flare up though? Could they combat it? He stopped short of the stairway as Scott helped Xavier into the lift.

"Scott, can I have a word ?" He called out to his brother.

Looking over his shoulder Scott couldn't help a momentary play of annoyance from flashing across his face a the interruption. There was so much to do, so little time to plan it. He quickly masked this though and fought it down, after all this was Alex, his little brother. Since the moment that their mother had pushed them out of the airplane to save their lives Scott had looked after his younger sibling. Holding on to him with all of his strength as they parachuted to the ground below was only the first step ... even years later it was almost as if Scott still had his arms wrapped around Alex, always protecting him.

Alex was his brother, his family, and he would always make time for him.

Turning towards Alex Scott walked back down the hallway with a gentle smile on his face.

"What's up Alex?" he asked mildly as he approached him.

Seeing that Storm was holding the doors of the elevator, Alex had to change his take a bit. Beckoning his brother to come closer. As Scott approached Alexs hand shot up into his chest and pushed him back against the wall. Alex's words couldn't quite be made out but his voice sounded angry as he almost grolwed at this brother.

With a turn of his head, Scott reached up to his glasses and raised them a fraction of an inch off his face. A scarlet beam of light fired from his eyes, no thicker than a pencil, and flashed out towards the inside of the elevator where it hit the shiny metalic surface of the wall to reflect of and hit the button that would send it to the War Room level.

"Go on without me, I will be down in a moment ... I have something to take care of first" Scott shouted to his shocked colleagues as the doors closed in their faces, their last view was of Scott ensuring his glasses were back in place before turning his head to look at his brother ...

Charles wasn't sure what was going on between Scott and Alex, but he did sense the animosity the younger Summers brother was radiating. He hoped this would cause more of an issue then it needed.

He sighed, "It's been a trying day for all of us, I hope Alex isn't going to make it more so for Scott." He looked up at Ororo, "I am sure Scott did not mean to usurp your athority Storm. The psychic backlash he received earlier has certainly unsettled him, and has certainly caused him to revert to his traditional leadership behaviour."

Ororo nodded. She was used to the fact that a 'trying day' was never as much an excuse for her as it was for the others. Her aura of calm serenity tended to make people think that nothing got to her. But inside she was just as much worried about Jean as anyone else was.

He paused, "Both your and his sugguestions all have merit and I believe that although both full teams do not need to be at the Guggenheim, those not there from second should be close in case of the need for back up."

"Storm, we should make use of Archangel's public life and have him attend the ball, if you feel that Psylocke is the correct choice to accompany him then I shall leave that to you to decide. However Psylocke's sometime reckless behaviour may not make her the most suitable."

It was true, Psylocke did have the tendancy to act first and follow orders second, something which at times was admirable but at others a potential danger. It was the main reason Charles had placed her in the Blue Team, Cyclops had the capacity to deal with her, he was not sure that the same could be said for Storm yet, through no fault of her own.

"Is there someone better suited for that role do you think?" Storm asked. "Betsy and Warren have a natural chemistry, I am not psychic but I saw the look in her eyes when Scott gave her the orders. I would not want to be the one to tell her not to get dressed up after all." Storm said with a wry smile.

"Well, in being an X-Man we don't always get what we want." he replied with a half smile.

Storm remembered earlier in her superhero career when she had been the only female member of the team and the 'arm candy' role had fallen to her. Rich clothes made her uncomfortable, rich people showing off their wealth made her naseous, and though she had many talents acting was not one of them. Sure, Ororo had all the body and then some needed for the part, but she could not fake passivity or empty headedness.

Storm also knew Jean's telepathic capabilites, but if there were doubts about Jean's performance in the field no one had spoken up yet.

"The person who contacted me about the news report was Trish Trilby, but I also received word from Peter Parker, who will be at the event in a press capacity tonight. I would like Iceman to go and arrange with Spiderman another Pass, that way we can assertain the reactions of the news world, other than from Trish. It takes her one step away from danger and also gives us another person on the inside."

Charles paused and looked up at Storm, "I trust this is alright with you." he said.

"So that gives us Bobby, Warren, Betsy and our ally Spiderman on the inside." Storm mused. "A quite considerable force. With Nightcrawler on the roof for backup and lookup duties..." Storm almost felt pity for anyone who tried to attack the museum.

Charles nodded. "Quite a grouping."

After her response he continued, "I expect that with the majority of the Gold Team placed at the Guggenheim and with Beast and Wolverine, best equipped to investigate the club, then the rest of the Blue team will act as back up to you. Ovbiously place yourself, Bishop, Colossus, Nightcrawler and Jean to as you see fit. I expect that Cyclops will have Gambit, Rogue and himself with Beast and Wolverine, then proceed to a position nearer to the museum if they are required backup."

"Professor, Jean may not be able to come with us." Storm said levely. "Her powers are in a state of flucuation at the moment, she may not trust herself. If that is the case my team's capability as investigators is severely limited."

Charles remained quiet, what Storm said was true enough, perhaps Jean should remain behind.

"This of course leaves Havok... and Nate Grey." he added. Havok had only been in the mansion for a few days and although equipped to be an X-Man he had not been through the testing processes to decide which team he should be on. Then there was Nate, arrived today and still something of a loose cannon.

"I would appreciate your suggestions Storm, in regard to the two of them for tonight. Obviously permenant placement tests we do not have time for now." Charles said, whilst he also monitored what was happening back in the entrance hall.

"Professor you know how I feel about letting new mutants into the action so quickly." She said, obviously refering to Nate Grey. "He will be a liability at best." She said simply enough. "But, on the other hand, if Jean cannot perform her duties perhaps I could use him as a replacement."

"Do you geniunely think she cannot?" he asked. "On any other day I would have sent her in place of Psylocke, she and Warren would be able to keep up appearences easily enough, but today is not any other day...."

"Only Jean knows for certain, Charles." Storm said softly. "In the end it is a decision she must make and I must respect." The worry for her friend was obvious to anyone who heard her voice, even one who was not as empathic as the Professor.

Charles nodded, "We will leave the choice to her. She came and spoke to me earlier today, we had a unknown road ahead of us Storm, as always, and for Jean to successfully navigate she will need all of us to aid her I'm sure."

"As for Havok, I will leave that decision in Scott's hands." Storm knew Scott would make that decision anyway, and she was too worried about other things to tussle with him for the leadership role today. She did not trust herself to remain calm if such a conflict occured.

Charles nodded, "Maybe for today, but I do not thinkt hat should be in the long run. Placing Havok under Cyclops's leadership may not be for the best, but we shall see, before that can happen I need to speak with Havok, to see what can be made of his missing memories."

"I will need to work with him as well if he is to be a part of my team." Storm took the hint. "When we have time after the museum."

"Well which team we place him on will be the decision of all three of us," he said, "but not one we need make now."

"Perhaps my team would be best suited to join Nightcrawler on the roof. We could serve as lookouts and would be closeby in case anything untoward occured."

"What do you think would be the wisest course of action, Professor?"

"That is true." he mused, "But is that how you think people would be best served? The Guggenheim is a unique building, and with Central Park opposite it... you may find that once there another opportunity arises. I trust your judgement Storm, it is why I chose you to lead one of the teams, and not to have everyone under the control of just one person. What are you thoughts?"

"I do not like placing my friends in danger if I am not to be nearby to assist them." Storm said simply. "If Nightcrawler is on the roof, I must be there with him. Or nearby at the very least. I could summon a thick enough fog that the remainder of my team could hide ourselves in Central Park. I could start now so as to make it not seem suspicious."

"Then please do so, for it will you out in the field not myself."

Hank then made his way to his room, where he decided to `go in mufti', something he did not so much these days. He applied the back brace that let him stand fully upright without much pain, and then found the remarkably lifelike forearms and hands appliances and the breathable and mobile mask of his original face. He applied both of these and checked them out. They worked fine. Then he suited up. The transformation was amazing, when Hank looked himself over in the mirror. The blue, furry man-creature had been replaced by the heavyset farm boy Hank had once been, albeit a bit older and heavier. "Well, Henry, nice to see you again." Still, he pulled out an image inducer, just in the event he needed one.

He placed a com unit over his head. These days, the things were miniscule, and barely visible. He voice dialed for Simon Williams' cell phone. The actor/adventurer answered on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Simon, this is Hank. I felt you needed to know about the bombing at `The In Crowd'."

"Oh, man, Hank! I heard an hour ago. Do you know much? I'm in LA, in case you didn't know."

"Just the news. But I'll be heading out to the scene soon. Investigating. With family."

A pause. "Oh, yeah. The mutant angle. Uh, Hank, was it a mutant group?"

"They may have bombed the place because I go there. I don't have a clue yet. Simon, did any of OUR friends die?" Hank knew Simon would have had a chance to check that, by now, if he had done anything.

"Sorry Hank. Andie Chalmers was killed. Uh, nobody else we know."

Hank closed his eyes. Andie was a waitress, a friend. She had short black hair and eyes like a sunny cloudless sky. Closed forever. "I, I see. At least, we only have one funeral to attend. Simon, make sure you tell me when and where. I'll be trying to find her killer or killers."

"Do you need backup? I—"

"Simon, I'm fine. I think I will be accompanied by a highly effective friend from Canada."

Another short pause. "Well, you know best. Hank. Try to bring them in to stand trial. Andie… she was against the death penalty."

"Despite the company I have sometimes kept, I am, too. Simon, I'm so sorry. I know it was not my fault, even if they bombed the place because I am a frequent guest. Which is quite possible. But I just feel bad. For Andie, and for the others. Is Norman okay?" That was the owner, the next one Hank was going to call.

"Yeah, but I got 10 seconds with him. He's with the police investigators."

"Good, they'll be next after I call him. Simon, you take care of yourself."

"Yeah, Hank. Don't end up a mutant on a stick, okay?"

"I fear I am too crunchy to make a good snack food, Simon. I'll call you after this is done. Ah, one thing. The chemical mogul was was killed, I suppose you once knew him?"

"Sure. His plant supplied quite a few materials to my old company for our federal and military contracts. Are you thinking there's a connection between his plant and the munition used for the bombing?"

Hank had always thought Simon was a fast thinker. "Possibly. I realize you are at least one death and life away from that old life. Who would I go to for the skinny on his company?"

"Tony Stark. But the Mansion has codes for major military suppliers. Just be careful how you access them."

"I always am careful, Simon. Thanks. And take care."

"Get out here to LA, soon. I know some great places, with beautiful AND smart babes." Simon was trying to make light of things, but it didn't go over well.

"I know you do. See you." Hank clicked out.

He then dialed the message service, for Logan. "Logan, we have been asked to perform some detective work in New York City. I'll meet you at the Paddy Wagon in fifteen minutes, and we can drive there, together, if you get this message. Otherwise, I shall go myself, alone. Consider wearing civilian clothing. I am, for once. I'll reload a few instruments before we drive in to the city." Paddy Wagon was the name Hank had given to the smaller of the two mission vehicles, the one they used for surveillance and technical support on occasion. It was a lightly armored and souped up late model American panel van, painted a dull blue color and with places for quick change of signage. It usually read: O'Henry and Curtis, General Contractors, and had a real phone number to an automated answering service, to which one could add a special entry code and then a speed dial code to reach the X-men comm units.

As Hank he headed out from his room, his mind was filled with sadness. Andie had been a sweet girl from Iowa, only 22. All her life ahead of her. She had once asked him what it was like to be in the arms of a real teddy bear. And he had shown her. She had been so light, so fragile. Gone, now.

Hank moved quickly through the house, pausing when Douglas Ramsey stopped to stare at him. "Wh-who are you?"

"Henry, of course. Check out early class photos, dear lad. I am in mufti for a mission. I can well imagine you have never seen me standing fully upright. Of course, I never wear an image inducer at the school. How are your independent studies in programming languages going?"

Doug shook his head for a moment, and then changed to Hindi, the langauge in which Hank had addressd him. "Fine, sir. Ive figuured out why you call Visual Basic a patent absurdity, and believe that C++ was designed by people of limited imagination. But I have trouble with the concept of Fortran as a 'complete language for dealing in sets'. I was wondering--"

Hank tousled his hair. "Not now, Douglas. But go back and read The Algol Monster, at least the first year, written by a group of MIT students in the early 1970s. I have a copy in my room, in the section on Technoshamans. I really do have to go."

"Thanks, Dr. McCoy. And good trip!" The last was in French, and Hank merely stepped along, waving at thim. A few other students had stepped out, to see the mystery man who talked like Hank McCoy. He just waved at them, and moved along. "M, a housecoat is necessary if you are going to be wearing a negligee in the hallway. One personal demerit, young lady! And don't think I am too busy to record it."

She scowled at him, but Hank was in the habit of providing the young woman with enough demerits to keep her from making trouble. She worked them off, and then sent him scathing essays on how he was failing to meet the spirit of the demerit system. When he had started asking Charles to grade those as extra credit assignments, she had had even more to do.

As he went down the stairs, he was followed by Skin. "Hey, Doc, latex or unstable molecules?"

"Actually, a few unstable molecules, but mostly a colloidal synthesized skin application that eventually dies. It's really the only way to get the mobility in the features, especially over fur."

"Waaayy cool."

"I think so, too. Now, if I recall, you are behind in your English. See if you can talk M into helping you."

"She's, uh, really pissed with me."

He chuckled. "Join the club, get free admission! My friend, her attitude can rub a tank raw. But everybody needs somebody, sometime." He opened the door to leave. "Give it time."

"Bye, doc! Hey, you should set those words to music, they're so cool."

He let the door close between them. "Hmpf. Children." He walked to the garage whistling Singin' in the Rain. When he got there, he went to the van, and started pulling out the two standard instrument packs he wanted to replace. It took a few minutes for each one, and he dispensed with the specialized handcart and arm that they usually used, as each pack as an easy 500 to 600 pounds, for him.

As he started the work, he voice dialed for Norman Oliphant, the young Englishman who had bought a failing nightclub eight years before and made it into a posh and stylish place. He and Norman had established an easy friendship, as the Oxford-graduated businessman had a fondness for keeping up with the latest science. And Hank was on Norm's special list. "Henry! Oh man, you heard--"

He felt the lump in his throat again. "I did. I'm so sorry. The only one I heard about was Andie. Anybody else?"

Another staffer, a busboy, had died in an attempt to save a guest. Several other staff members had been injured, and several guests Hank knew, too. No close friends. "But look, Henry. I have to get off the line. And the police want to know who called."

Hank nodded. "Tell them. Tell them I have Avengers Reserve standing, and will be asking to look over the site. I should be there in a bit over an hour. And... Norman?"

"Yes, Henry?"

He cleared his throat. "Has anybody determined if this was done because of the club association with... prominent mutants?"

"Henry! This wasn't your fault. And no, the police are looking into the other side, possible mutant terrorists. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. That is an important angle. Norm, I am so sorry. Will you be there when I arrive?"

"No. Police want me to go through some mug shots. But Jayne will be here. And the police. Fire department. A lot of people. FBI and such."

"Okay. Norman, you keep your head up and your mind clear. A lot of people will need you."

"You think so? In any case, I must go. And thanks, Henry."

"No thanks needed. Bye."

Hank had managed to put together the instruments, and was now testing them. But he paused for a minute, his great hands shaking slightly. It never happened in combat, or at other times, just when he was trying hard to keep his feelings under wraps. He hoped Logan would not sneak up on him for another minute or two.

Elsewhere:

In the city of New York, in a large building on Fifth Avenue, others were also making preparations. One of whom was stood in front of a tall full length mirror admiring her reflection. She was a tall, thin, very attractive blond, who's piercing blue eyes were taking in how she looked. She lingered over every diamond like stone that was sewn into the revealing white dress she was wearing.

"Perfection." she said to herself, a sly smile on her face. "As always."

In the mirror's reflection she caught a glimpse of the rooms other occupant, stretch out on the bed, reading a paper.

"You know, my darling," she said turning, "You'll just ruin your suit if you remain like that."

The dark haired man sighed, it was bad enough that she spent forever staring at her own appearance that she now had to turn her attention to his. He looked over the top of the paper at her about to snap back, but the didn't.

She'd spent ages changing from one outfit to the next, but not that she had decided finally, she did look, "Outstanding." he said.

She smiled. "Well obviously."

"But my dear, I think we can leave your usual constructive criticism to yourself please." he stood up and did the buttons of his red silk waistcoat up. He glanced at the clock, and picked up his black suit jacket, then he held out his arm to her.

"Come, we should speak to the others before leaving."

She nodded, finished putting her diamond earrings on, and grabbed her white fur wrap.

Taking his arm the left the bedroom, and walked down the corridor, and they did so the man would periodically punch the panelled wall.

She pulled a slightly dissatisfied face, "Is that entirely necessary?" she said.

He punched the wall again, "After the events of the afternoon, it is better to be safe than sorry." he retorted.

She sighed but didn't speak again.