Kitty and Jubilee would've recognized Logan's tone and posture instantly from ripe experience. It was the one he used when he was going to lecture one of them. Just that this time, it wouldn't be one of them, and rather a different, unsuspecting "victim"...

Nate sighed, he had wondered when this was going to start, he should have known Logan would be the first. Not that it mattered. Though Nate regretted his choice of action, he didn't regret his tactics. It didn't really matter what Logan was going to say, since Nate had already considered what he had done, and why. The what was rash, but the why was still valid. Had Jenny actually been the bomber, a lot of these conversations wouldn't be occuring. Nate made a mistake, made an assumption that had turned out to be incorrect.

Now Logan it seemed presumed to lecture him on this. Nate almost found it funny, the fact that Logan was going to lecture anyone on acting rashly. Charles maybe, even Jean, but Logan was almost famous for going berserk and acting rashly. Not that it mattered. Despite what genetics was telling Hank, that Nate was physically only 7 years old, mentally he wasn't. Hank's counterpart in Nate's reality had done his work well. Though Nate had only lived 7 years, his mind and mental maturity had been accelerated as well, he didn't think like a 7 year old, he thought like a 20 year old. One who knew he was dying.

Its a funny thing about knowing your dying, it tends to make you more willing to act when others would simply think. You know that you don't really have the time to delay and prevaricate.

Nate followed Logan to wherever the diminutive man would take them, waiting to here what he had to say. Perhaps Nate was wrong, maybe Logan wouldn't try to get on his high horse and condemn Nate's actions. Perhaps, but Nate didn't think it was that likely.

The oldest (chronologically speaking) X-man took Nate outside the house - fewer overly curious ears and - far more importantly - there was something soothing about fresh air that soothed Logan. And he sure could do with every small piece of peace he could get.

He lighted a cigar, puffing on it as he relaxed a bit more. "You said you wiped our memories of you. Meaning, you been here before, and part of us, part of the X-family, so ta speak. Right?" he opened, calmly.

Nate nodded, "Yes, about 6 months ago."

Logan nodded - sure enough, he didn't remember anything. Nate had it in his disfavor that Logan tended to react rather allergicaly to deception and memory alterations. He'd had more than enough of that in his life. More than enough for several lifetimes, in fact.

"Ain't gonna question yer reasons, kid - figure they were good enough. That ain't why you an' me are here though. It's about what ya did when ya got here today. About what could've happened, darn nearly did too."

Ominous silence followed. The Canadian X-man was more than a little uncomfortable with exactly what had nearly happened... and it's no excuse that the kid didn't know or didn't intend. That wasn't the point.

Nate waited patiently, letting the silence open up. If Logan had something he wanted to say about the way Nate had acted, then this was his chance to do so. Nate had apologized for what he did. The why wasn't something he needed to apologise for.

"Kid, don't matter whether Jenny turned out to be innocent or not - different deal entirely. What I wanna know is why you attacked the X- men. Why you attacked family. Your own parents. Fer someone who claims ta have been here, been part a this - that sure is a poor testament a faith, I'd think."

Nate looked at Logan for a few moments before he answered. "Why, because you prepared to defend her. You think I couldn't hear Xavier calling her here. I may not have been able to pierce her shields, but Xavier's voice still echoes where I can hear it. This wouldn't be the first time the x-men have been used by another, used to protect something that needed to be dealt with."

"Be that as it may, bub, but that's no excuse fer what you've done." Even Logan had had misgivings when Xavier took in Sabretooth, he'd not gone and traded blows with the X-men. "Ya hurt family, kid - there's no excuse for that. What's more, ya nearly killed Slim today."

Logan's voice was as cold as a razor blade.

Nate sighed, with an almost inward chuckle. How could Logan know that at the end, it had been Nate's actions that had saved both Jean and Scott. Granted, it had been Jean tapping into the power of the Phoenix Force that had caused him to strike. With her shields up, the blast would simply have knocked her unconscious, with her shields down it would have killed her and Scott both.

He had risked his own life, sacrificed it even, since he had no way of knowing the attempt would not kill him, to contain the power he had released. As it was, knocking Jean unconscious and stunning Scott was about the best possible outcome of the battle that had raged between Nate and his mother. Of course, Nate couldn't tell Logan this, if it mattered enough, someone else would.

"Really, so when Scott battled the rest of the X-Men, using his knowledge and powers to disable them, that was different. Because you all thought he was the Dark Phoenix returned, you attacked him. I did what I felt I needed to do to disable each of you. As for almost killing Scott, there was never any chance of that happening."

Nate sighed, "Scott did exactly the same to each of you, struck to disable, not to kill. Had I truly been your enemy, truly wanted to hurt the X-Men, blood would have stained these walls this day."

"Bub, that was different. Apples 'n oranges. Charlie would've listened to you if you'd not acted like John Wayne. Bit overzealous, don't ya think. Secondly - ya can count yerself lucky I was a little too slow, or too fast."

"The blast you had Cyke do would've hit me straight in the chest. If that'd have happened, his innards would've been all over my claws & the blood on yer hands." Again, Logan was being calculatingly cruel. "This ain't exactly a good time fer Scott to go blasting the Canuck."

Considering it had come to blows between them just moments before the whole incident, it had been good fortune more than calculation that Logan's reaction ducked his head straight into the blast. Most other people would've had a snapped their neck. Also, something that the young X-offspring of sorts needed to consider.

"Ya hurt Pete there - I don't well to that. He's a soft touch, but few would cover yer back as bravely as he would. This ain't the best of times to be sure for playing again family introduction. But at this point, forgiven or not, you gotta earn trust, kid."

"Family is the most precious thing ya can have, kid. The only thing that matters really in this world. More than money, power, or anything. An' you chose to return home like a train 'o buttkick. Don't ya think you gotta earn yer place in this family fer that alone?"

The misgivings Logan had were obvious. He cared about the X-men. Despite the occasional difference and argument, they were family, his family. And whether or not that kid's story was true - Logan would protect this family. So far, Nate had done distinctly little to leave a good impression, to be part of that circle.

Nate shook his head slightly. "You don't think I know this. You have no idea what I had to give up to do what needed to be done. You think I wanted to find my family and then lose them, you think I enjoyed giving up everything that mattered to me in the world," Nate's voice was impassioned. It was hard really to understand how much Nate had given up when he erased the worlds memory, for it was not just memory of him that he erased, but memory of the events that would have almost guaranteed starting a war against the mutants in the world.

Nate stopped for a moment, rubbing his eyes, visibly calming himself down. "I knew that Pete would survive what I did to him. All he had was a concussion. You also were able to survive the blast from Scott's visor. Not one of the X-Men came out with any serious injury. In fact, barring a headache, not one of you came out with any injury at all. I may only be a kid in your eyes Logan, but I made damn sure that not a single one of the X-Men was hurt. They are family, as much mine as yours. I'd have given my life before I allowed any of you to become seriously injured. Did in fact." Nate stopped there, in the heat of the moment he'd said too much. He didn't want Logan to know that it was his actions that stopped his attack on Jean, and in doing so he had almost killed himself.

Logan wasn't someone who was inexperienced in matters of pain or personal sacrifice. Far, far from it. It was because of just the things he'd gone through that he valued the X-men as much as he did. "Kid - the only reason Scott's not on a slab, is because of good luck."

If the first shot wouldn't have landed just so, Logan knew, his bestial side would've have won over and Cyclops would never have had a chance at another clear shot - not before it would have been too late. Fatally so. That thought was something that scared Logan more than a little - that loss of control had been so close ... so very close.

"And the point ain't that Petey could 'survive' whatever ya tossed at him, bub. Fact is you injured those you claim to have been part of. Having near misses - whether by fate or fortune - is no way ta introduce yerself. Not ta what you call family."

"Think a' that bub. What family stands for, what it means fer ya. So that next time you come bearing a grudge, ya don't do anything stupid. Or there won't be another family fer ya."

The last words were spoken with the full finality of someone who knew exactly what he was talking about, Unquestionable finality, that could only hint at a fragment of what Logan had gone through in his long life.

Nate looked a little confused at Logan, "I know what family means to me. I know I didn't hurt them, and wouldn't. I also know the walk back from Wisconsin would have given you enough time to cool of had you chosen to attack Scott. I didn't come bearing a grudge; I came knowing that I needed to get the X-Men out of the way to deal with a mass murderer who was using them as a shield. The point IS that not a single one of the X-Men was seriously injured, and not a single one would have been. They are my family, whether they know it or not, and i wasn't going to hurt them. Had Jenny not come here, my hand would not have been forced."

Nate sighed again. "Logan, we are not going to agree on this. If you think I need to prove myself to the X-Men, so be it. I had to prove myself the first time round as well. It seems like I am always proving myself to someone. Maybe I'll succeed before I die, though I wouldn't hold your breath."

"Ain't about proving yerself kid - it's about trust. If someone with my attitude gave Charlie the benefit of the doubt when Creed was here, don't ya think someone with a less violent streak should've given him, an' the X-Men the benefit of the doubt?"

He left it at that.

Sabretooth - a man to whom the worst mass-murderers of history could only pale to, in pure malice and bloodlust. Wolverine's most hated enemy for ... more decades than anyone would care to remember...

Logan's head turned around, his sense of hearing picking something up. "Something's up junior - the others are looking fer us. Agitated. Bad news..."

Logan turned towards the mansion. Between the phoenix's return to Jean and Logan's ... own problems - what had the others in such a mood?

Nate nodded, "I know, they've just watched a news story about the bombing. It's something to do with Senator Kelly and another potential bombing at a ball tonight. Jubilee is trying to find us, and the others are gathering in the war room."

Nate, was an extremely powerful telepath, and was more than capable of multi-tasking. He'd watched the news story whilst arguing with Logan. He did turn with Logan though, towards the mansion, brushing his hear back as he admitted, "You got me with one thing though, I wasn't exactly in a calm state of mind when I came here. A bombing in a club touched a nerve with me." Nate didn't say anymore, he simply walked back towards the mansion with Logan

"Wolvie!" ... Logan had picked up the scent before he'd heard the shout, so he was facing the teenagerr when she came up to him. "The others are in the war room!"

"Yeah." he wasn't quite in the mood for a big gathering, and - if he was honest with himself - wanted to steel himself somewhat. Having a replay of what had nearly happened earlier this morning would not be healthy.

"You need to meet Hank - go look at the bomb!" Jubilation announced merrily. Logan knew - he'd read Hank's text and simply chose to ignore it for a few moments. It was - he found - actually quite a relief on being delegated to second line work. Doing a little bit of the old snooping and using his sniffer ... certainly preferable at the moment to use his more martial talents. Less ... likelihood of him losing it.

Jubilee looked at Logan like a lost and beaten puppy.

"What?" ... betterr to get it out of her system...

"IT'S SO NOT FAIR..." Jubilee started, before going on into detail on why she would be so much better than Kitty. In fact, why she was an essential part to the mission, and should be re-instated as a full X-man.

By the time the two had returned from the grounds, Logan had the teen calmed down - it was all just in presenting things in a certain light. Of course, it might have helped that he told her that he might need her in the library or otherwise doing some information gathering on the explosives. Well - he sort of encouraged her to be ready for a call from him.

She was beaming at the thought of doing "special" work that no-one else got to do. Logan - for his part - was just content in having the kid relaxed again, as they split up. The teen to go her ways, and Logan to meet Hank.

Dark brooding was written all over Logan's face - the news Nate had relayed to him needed little explaining. He'd seen it all before - countless times. Something goes bad - somemone convenient gets blamed. WHether it was the Jews in Nazi Germany, or mutants in more - supposedly - enlightened days.

Civilised and enlighted contemporary times? Yeah right. Things had changed so little, in his time, he was tempted to believe it to be no changes at all. Except for one thing - now there were the X-men there, to make a difference.

It was all ratherr an unpleasant matter. All the better, it would be, if they'd found what caused the explosion. Hopefully that would lead back to "who" ... and then ... well - one step at a time.

As Storm and Charles entered the planning room the Wind Rider paused to reflect on all that had occured. As usual, it was utter chaos. When it was a joyful sort of merriment Ororo was never happier than when she watched her children at play. It filled her with warmth, hope, and vindication. When it was awkward, like the situation with Nate Grey, it made her pensive, like a mother hen who fears a fox has entered her coop.

Storm was in many ways controlled by her emotions, but in turn she had to exercise control over what she felt to keep the sky from quite literally falling. During times when she was alone she sometimes wondered if what Kitty Pryde has asked her about so long ago - If mutants did have special feelings. The pithy answer was 'Of course we do, our feelings can directly affect the outside world.' But it was something that Ororo pondered quite often. She wondered, with her unique perception of the world, if she was just barking to the wind like a hyena, and nobody would ever truly understand her?

'But it is like so many questions people ask themselves in life.' She mused. 'Will we ever be accpeted? Will I ever find the right person? Will my dreams ever be realized?' She shook her head. 'The only way to be sure is to try your hardest every day and never quit. The Bright Lady only gives us so much time. If we waste it, what right have we to blame her?'

Maybe, someday, Ororo's dream would come true and her children could live without fear. "Nothing is impossible." She said quietly to herself as she paced the length of the room. And nobody Storm had ever met could claim to understand how true that was more than she did. Nobody...except the Uncanny X-Men.

Kurt looked up as the Professor and Storm arrived in the room, if they were here then he knew the others wouldn't be far behind.

He nodded to his team leader, but saw that she was occupied, so he did not interrupt.

He sat up a little straighter, waiting for what ever orders would come.

At that moment, Betsy came into the room, followed by Warren. The walk down the stairs had worked out any frustration, and she was keen to get on with things. She had ideas, questions, concerns and - well, not that she'd admit to it, but dress plans.

Looking around the room, she cast a smile at Kurt - wondering if he was going to have to move from whimsical prankster to their swashbuckling hero in one day. She liked the Bavarian, and had every confidence in his ability to rescue her and Warren if necessary. IF necessary...

Professor X and Storm, she didn't smile at, not because she disliked them, more because they looked serious and might not take a smile as anything other than flippancy. She nodded in acknowledgement at them instead, then settled herself on a surface and waited for the talking to start.

Gambit leaned against a nearby wall as the others entered the war room, twirling a playing card in his hand. He let out a small chuckle as he began to talk to no one in particular.

"Wooowee, it appears dat de fox is indeed in de hen house." smiled the Cajun mutant. "De way I see it. My good ol' team leader has his work cut out for 'emself, No? First, 'is girlfriend appears to be being overwhelmed again by that mean ol' Phoenix. Second him and Wolverine almost came to blows over that same ol' girlfriend and three, now this boy, Nate shows up. We got ourselves a mixin' o' de trouble 'ere. He chuckled again as he slid the playing card back into the sleeve of his overcoat, pushed himself off the wall and walked to his usual place at the briefing table.

"But, I be a good soldier, though. When ol' Remy told saddle up and go...I saddle up and go!" turning to Psylocke, he flashes his best 30 watt smile, not wanting to give the English ninja the full wattage. "Ain't that right 'chere?"

Storm, though lost in her own thoughts, was not unaware as to what was going on around her. She saw Gambit giving Betsy a dangerous smile. One of the Cajun's trademark smiles that was a lethal weapon when used on almost any woman. The last thing Storm wanted was Warren distracted with jealous thoughts while he was supposed to be on a mission.

"Is there something wrong Remy?" Storm asked, drawing his attention, and more importantly, his smile, away from Psylocke. "I thought you thrived on chaos and adventure." She said as a friendly challenge, as she took her seat opposite Gambit. "Surely all that is happening is not too much for you?" She said with a somewhat smug smile.

Gambit for a moment looked almost hurt at Storm's comment, but quickly regained his composure. "When one is no longer a t'ief, one takes what he action he can, chere. No?" he comments with a 'I know a secret' wink. "All I was saying was we got some trouble, but not t'worry. Gambit be ready, like always."

Caught by Gambit's smile just as she was settled into mental lists of 'things to worry about', Betsy blinked and forgot to smile back. Fortunately she was saved from her surprise by the intervention of Storm. As Remy's attention shifted from her, she allowed herself to drop back into her planning. Catching herself she thought 'ah, Betsy, why the planning, that's for those in charge to do!', but she knew she didn't believe that. They made the decisions, certainly, but what use were team members if they couldn't think intelligently? She started wondering again whether they were falling for an incredibly unsubtle diversion tactic - and if so, what the real target was.

That did bother her, but what bothered her more was the idea that they were being set up. Anyone who knew of the X-men would know that this sort of incident would bring them out to help and protect. So all they needed to do was wait, then engineer an incident where the X-men would look like the dangerous guilty parties. Hey presto Mutant Registration Act.

Hopefully that wasn't the idea, because if so, she and Warren were right in the firing line, as the public attendees of the Ball. Not however that she was going to let that happen - even though trying an all-evening ambient telepathic scan was probably going to leave her with a headache at the least.

Walking into the room, Rogue immediately noticed the Cajun and felt herself colouring slowly, a slight flush to the skin. Furiously she thought of calming things...like the smell of good food, wind through tree boughs on a summersday. How embarrasing. Finding a convenient patch of wall space, she leaned against it.

Storm returned the wink with a confident smile. "I knew it. Thieves are only dangerous when they are bored." She said with a mock tone of 'Or so I've heard.'

She put one of her hands over Gambit's on the table made a significant eye contact with him. She wanted him to get the impression that it was not a personal challenge she had issued him. It was a 'leader thing.' She knew that Remy LeBeau was not a natural leader, despite the thousands of women who would love to follow his every command, and he may or may not understand what she had just done.

"I know we can count on you." She said, before removing her hand. And then she turned to face Warren and Betsy. "What I do not know." She said quite loud and clear, "Is if Elizabeth will have her party dress picked out in time for the mission." The grin on her face made it clear she was jesting.

" Betsy'd look damn fine in a tatty ol' rag an you know it, only Betsy, doan' let Mistah Charm here pick it for you " Here she paused to test herself by looking directly at Remy, " 'cos sure as anything, even you'd have trouble hidin' weapons in the slip of a thing he'd pick ".

"Come now, chere. A woman's beauty sometime be her best weapon. " Remy added smiling at the blushing Rogue. "Heaven knows you 'ave wounded me enough, No?"

Storm was trying to get everyone talking, and in a light hearted mood before the serious strategy session began. She felt somewhat guilty that the conversation she was making had an ulterior motive, but as a leader it was her responsibility to make sure her troops were healthy physically and emotionally. At the same time she was gently manipulating weather patterns so that by the time for the mission came around a very thick fog and mist would blanket most of New York City and the surrounding areas.

Slightly nonplussed by her choice of dress becoming the topic of the moment, Betsy looked first at Storm, then over at Rogue. She understood Storm's choice of subject and mustered a teasing look of offence at the implication that she might bother about such trivial things as dress colour or style. Turning her gaze to Rogue, she noticed the slight air of embarrassment and mentally raised an eyebrow. Appreciating the source of embarrassment, she decided it was probably best to stay quiet and let the conversation roll around her. In the meantime she could put some more thought into what she Was going to wear.

"It could be worse," Kurt piped up from his perch on one of the worktops, "We could be sending in some of the other students, we'd be waiting for them all night."

He then went on to feign an over the top sigh, "Ah me, Kurt you are never to go to the ball. No fancy dresses for this mutant."

With no word yet on precisely when Logan would join him, or how the missions would be apportioned, Hank had time to write the replacement modules into the van. He also had time for reflection, and for more than a bit of worry.

He felt there was quite a bit to worry about.

First, there was the Phoenix. Despite his thoughts regarding the potential for Jean to be able to keep the powers at bay, there was the question of whether she would seek and accept appropriate help regarding the matter. Hank was quite uncertain of this. The Jean who had come back from the dead, in Jamaica Bay, to join the newly built X-Factor team, despite appearances, was not the Jean that had `died' in the space shuttle crash. She was neither the Phoenix-Jean, nor the Jean who had made that decision. She was a woman who had been rebuilt by godlike powers, and apparently been given the capacity to hold the Phoenix powers, which by any calculation Hank could make, would burn out any other mutant as quickly as final stage Legacy disease.

The forces that were somehow channeled in her body were far more than a human body was built to handle, unless transformed from the human. Jean's body had never been that. Aside from the X-factored mutation, she had been, physically, a slightly improved human. On all the normal tests, she remained unchanged. Yet, there was, then, hidden in her neural pathways, or in some other channel as yet not surveyed by Hank, the means for her survival while channeling those forces. The only others in the X-Men who could survive them, even for an instant, would be Scott and Alex, whose bodies channeled incredible energies, and quite possibly Rogue, if given time to attempt to absorb the powers. And maybe Nate. Nate was surely the strongest telekinetic on the planet, and in some ways he outstripped Charles as a telepath. He might survive those powers, and he might even be able to contain them, with the Summers inheritance he had from an otherworlds' Scott Summers.

Hank would have to investigation both Summers brothers, and Jean and Nate. Despite his hopies that biofeedback techniques coupled with self-redactive telepathy, might salvage Jean's body and mind from the Phoenix Force, he wanted to cover this from more than one angle.

Second, there was Nate himself. He had just demonstrated his power against quite a few of the X-Men in residence, and all at once. Nate would invariably, if he ever attempted another attack, be able to make it with surprise, against almost all of them. That, Hank determined, could not be allowed. He had never before determined a course of action for specific protection against even a provisional member of the team. But against Nate, he was considering it.

The problem with Nate, he realized, was that the man-boy was, for practical purposes, a child in his social reasoning and responses. Hank was uncertain of the life the lad had had before coming to his dimension, but he suspected that it had been relatively short, perhaps if his scans were right, as short as seven or eight years, and lived in a kind of militaristic fast forward, his body forced to grow, and his mind growing with it. Nate certainly would have all the cognitive capacities of a man of his late teens, or older. But his socialization would be, at best guess, closer to that of a pack of wolves than that of a family, however normal or abnormal, in this dimension.

He had had only a moment to address his encrypted diaries, but mention of the boy WAS there. And Hank kept field notes on the minds and bodies of his friends and companions. He had done that for years, ever since several incidences of emotional atavism on his part, back when the first team was still active, long before the team hiatus and Krakoa. At some point soon, and far from Nate himself, Hank would need to review those notes, and see how much of his memories he could reconstruct from them. For now, though, he was going to blank them from his mind, with other thoughts, other worries. Nate was a danger, not merely because he might be socially unstable, but because he was another genius. Hank believed he could outthink Nate when needed, but he could not outfight him. And if Nate, a socially maladjusted mutant of incredible potentials and a life of violence, decided that Hank COULD outthink him… Hank was not going to continue on those lines, at least, not now.

SECOND, and Hank grinned at how completely he had embedded whatever he had just put out of his mind, was the problem between Scott and Logan. The two had already been a claw's slash from serious combat with each other, if Hank was right in his interpretation, before Nate had shown up. There was no real evidence of any special continued stress between the two of them, but that meant nothing. Logan was the most tightly wound person Hank had ever met, far more than Scott, though most thought of the elder Summers brother as being that. If Logan wanted to hide something, even most telepaths could not root it out. And if he was nursing a grudge, it was possible that the first and only expression of that grudge was going to be in blood. Possibly Scott's, and possibly that of anybody who got in the way.

Hank had half believed, even before today, that his major role in the team with the two of them, was to keep them from killing each other.

At least Hank had a prayer of surviving a one on one with Logan. He was far stronger, faster, and more dexterous than the Canadian. Testing showed them with equal stamina. Logan had edges in sheer talent for battle, dirty tactics, and potential to take the fight into the killing grounds. He was also completely unpredictable, if he entered into some middle ground between pure rage and tactical combat. If Logan was angry, or took the conflict to the level of death-dealing, Hank would have to keep range, up until entering close combat to subdue and to bind. And binding a man with a healing factor, the ability and willingness to hurt himself to be free, and an adamantium skeleton, was not a matter easy to accomplish.

So, Hank resolved not to fight Logan. Other than in Danger Room scenarios, Hank had managed to stick by this approach as a standard operating procedure with Logan. Logan was actually quite willing and able to listen to anything Hank had to say, and often acted positively toward his advice and information. That was just sensible, and Logan, when not losing to inner demons, was quite sensible. He was sensible with everybody but Scott, and Hank chalked that up to both of them being wound like spring-coils. And both had feelings for Jean.

Hank wondered which of the others had come to this conclusion. Certainly, Remy would be aware. Not much got past the Cajun, especially matters of the heart.

And that was how Hank would handle the problem. He determined to share his knowledge, and his worries, about their team leader and their `battle ace' with their team thief, and by inference, his Rogue. Not that she would enjoy being referred to in this fashion, even inside Hank's head!

Third, there was the leadership issue. Hank himself rarely experienced any of the bull-male nonsense that the other X-men MEN demonstrated. His own stable X mutation smoothed out his stronger surges of violence, save when something happened to stir up atavistic behaviors. Luckily, that was quite rare, and the last time this had happened had been years before. All the original team had experienced him in those times, and he knew at least Bobby considered his deadliness to be on par with that of Logan at his worst. Hank even had good ideas about how and why, biochemically, these periods of rage occurred. His stint in his original form (albeit, partially mind- crippled) had reactivated the complex of rage-atavism, briefly, but without dire consequences.

Hank wished he could deactivate some of the biochemical responses of both Scott and Logan. But this would be unconscionable.

Ororo did not exhibit the alpha male urge, of course, but Scott seemed to experience it, on occasion. He was newly back at the School as were all the rest of the early students, and they still had not built up a confident command structure. Scott had stepped all over `Ro's cape, so to speak, when he had determined how both his team and hers was to be distributed.

Hank was honest with himself. He felt it had happened because Scott had met his `son'. In older models of behavior, Scott had been metaphorically, and emotionally, unmanned by the appearance of a fully adult, virile (tests had confirmed it) adult child, who had instantly gained the attention and affection of Scott's `girl'. Not only was that true, but the two shared a special bond, and it was potentially able to cut off Scott's own telepathic link to Jean. Scott had thus been `cut off' from normal affiliative responses between him and Jean, and just at a time when she was able to in fact declare what Hank could call `the galaxies' biggest headache'.

And while Scott had had legitimate complaints about Nate (after all, Scott's great power, the intense beams from his eyes, had been usurped by this son in their first meeting – and the only apology he had gotten from Nate was that Nate could do as he pleased!

Despite himself, Hank chuckled at that. He was certainly glad not to have Scott's problems!

He finished the testing of the equipment, and satisfied, he put the testing gear away, closed the van's back doors, and then moved carefully to the drivers' seat. He found the keycode device in place, and tapped this. It opened and he withdrew the keys. Started the van. Full, no problems in the special sensor scans. After a moment to warm up the vehicle, Hank drove it to the main garage door, which opened for it automatically. He recalled the old days before all the automation they now used, and did not regret those days had gone. In a moment, he parked in front of the main entry, almost before the garage door had closed again. Hank turned off the van, and went in, to see what the others were up to.

He had resolved much of the potential for the SECOND second problem, and the third, though the solution had its' risks. He knew Charles kept a watch on his mind when Hank was busy in the lab, often to keep Hank from forgetting to eat for days on end, and when a mission was being prepped, as Hank often volunteered for quartermasters and logistics duty, just as he had, this time.

*Charles, I would like to request that you assign Nate to the investigations team with me and Logan, and formally under Scott's command, as a Probationary team member.* Hank left out any detailed thoughts as Nate might be hanging about, reading projected thoughts. At least, if Hank were a socially maladjusted young man who had just been chastised as Nate had been, and had strong telepathy, HE would be scanning for telepathic remarks invoking his name. It was the most human kind of behavior, experienced even by metahuman mutants.

Charles sensed Henry's communication and diverted his attention to it.

Telepaths, especially those who were not as skilled or as trained, were often accused of invading people's privacy when they inadvertently read the minds of others and reacted to the thoughts they found.

The truth of the matter was not that they invaded, but that they had difficulty keeping people's stray thoughts out of their own minds.

For Charles things were different, how own mental shields prevented such "invasions" from happening, however if any of his students, X-Men or otherwise, needed to communicate with him, his mind was always listening.

*We will have to see Henry.* he communicated back to Beast, *It all depends on whether Jean feels capable of going out into the field or not.*

*We will be finalising plans in the War Room now, Cyclops and the others will be joining you shortly.*

Hank felt that he wanted to see the whole team before leaving. *I think I will meet the others in the War Room, just so they will know I am traveling in the pink, so to speak.* Hank formed a mental image of his current appearance, and felt Charles acknowledge that.

He headed for the War Room. Hank spent little time there, himself, although he had napped on the big conference table down there, once in a while.

He made his way down, the sensors easily coming to terms with his appearance as a an earlier version of himself.

He eventually reached the War Room, and walked in. "Hmm, where is the dauntless Mr. Summers? I had assumed I would run into him, here, or on the way here. It looks like most of the rest of us are gathered, then." He thought all of them had seen him in civvies and 'face' before, except possibly Remy, Bishop, and Nate. But Bishop rarely seemed surprised by anything, and Nate would doubtless recognize him by mental pattern. And Remy would spot him by his voice and manner. Hank was looking like the pre-alteration version of himself, and wore a uniquely tailored brown pinstripe suit. He felt rather well attired, in the event he needed to proceed with some actions requiring a human form.

"I've finished loading the Paddy Wagon for our investigation." He looked to the others for comments and instructions. "As you can see, I am ready to roll."

Gambit turned back to Storm for a quick wink as if to acknowledge their previous conversation. Seeing McCoy enter, albeit without his accustomed "blueness" Remy chuckled. "I do guess dat you save time on dressing with that contraption, Beast."

Jean had walked into the room as Hank had been talking, but waited until after her old friend had replied to the Cajun before saying, "Scott's coming, he's been delayed by Alex."

She took her usual seat, and addressed the Professor, "Logan and Nate are on their way down also."

Charles nodded, "As the Gold Team are fully assembled we may as well proceed. He pressed a number of buttons on a panel and a 3-D image appeared on the screens around the room, it was a projection of the Guggenheim floor plans.

"As I understand it the main reception will be held in the Rotunda area and the temporary exhibition hall on the floor here." Charles indicated the places he meant.

"Storm?" Charles then gestured to Storm, so she could give her orders.

As Scott zapped the button to the elevator, Alex shoved him against the wall. Alex had enough of being treated as the baby of the family, it was time for a heart to heart. In the moments breath that the zap left Scott's eyes, Alex stared into them. Scott's power couldn't hurt him and his couldn't hurt Scott. He took the opportunity to look deeper searching his brother's soul.

"Scott, you've done it again. Why have you sidelined me? Currently I feel like a nurse maid for the students not a member of the teams. I've had it up to here, did you not think that I might want to make a difference? In Genosha you faced me down reminded me of who I am, I need to be involved in this not sitting in the Blackbird twiddling my thumbs. I need to repent, my memory was shot and I hurt my own kind...... I .... I .....just need a chance to prove myself again."

Scott let Alex rant, let him get it out of his system, if there was one thing he knew about his younger brother the more he was told to 'quit it' the less likely he would.

He thought it was just going to be Alex's demanding to be sent out to the field, to fight the good fight, to not be so sidelined, but then his grip had relaxed and his tone had changed.

With his initial anger calming Alex loosened his grasp on his brother. He had seen something in those eyes, the stress of leadership, despair for Jean, maybe even hope?

"You know what hurts the most Scott? Its not the being left out from the mission, not even being a stranger in the mansion, its the fact you won't talk to me about how you are........"

Scott was now confused, Alex still seemed angry but he'd done an almost 360 and had turned it around so it was now about Scott. He was about to answer to ask just what it was that Alex wanted from him, and why it had to be right now, when the Professor wanted them all to hustle and get out there, but then he started again.

Alex's hands dropped to his side and his head bowed slightly, the anguish of the brotherly feud had always weighed heavily on him. Scott could just be so pig headed though and always had to be the figurehead.

"I've been an X-Man and I will be again, stress of combat and the situations we end up in I can deal with. You though, you're a different matter, Jean turns to you about the Phoenix and Nate appears, what do you do? You bottle it away and won't even confide in your own flesh and blood. One day you'll pop and I won't be there to stop you being a pratt! Now spill it Soldier boy!! Tell me why I'm out in the cold and more importantly tell me how you are!"

Alex's head shot up with those last words, it was time for answers and he wanted some. Corsair was out there somewhere but on the whole of the Earth there were only two Summers brothers and one of those was lying to himself. Alex thought he knew which one that was......

Scott looked down at the floor for a moment, collecting everything he was feeling, "And just why.." he said quietly, his head then snapping up to face Alex, "..do you have to lay this on me now? Ok, so I didn't mention your name back there, but why do you have to just assume it's because I'm shoving you to one side Alex? Did it not enter your head that the reason I did it was because you're not on a team yet? Yeah, you were an X-Man before, but you're not right now, not until Professor X says so!"

There that said Scott would now give Alex want he wanted, or atleast as best as he could right now, "It's only been four hours since this Nate Grey landed on our door step, and in that time I've been unconsious, told by the Phoenix that she's back and inside Jean, told that the guy who attack us is apparently my son, despite the fact the only son I've ever held in my arms I had to let go and send to God knows where in the future, then I had the woman I love more than anything in this entire world crying in my arms as she doesn't know what's happening to her, then once more we have to roll out the door to deal with another bigoted punch humanity is throwing at us despite all the good we do... and now," Scott paused for breath, "Now I have my kid brother tell me I need to make time for him!"

Scott wrung his hand, "How's that for confiding Alex? You want to talk, we'll do it. You're back here in the mansion and I'm sure we'll find time, but not here and not now!"

That said he moved past his brother and headed towards the now closed elevator doors.

As Scott disappeared into the lift, Alex stood stunned. For once in his life he had tried to think of his brother just to have it thrown in his face. No more, Scott could go boil his head as far as Alex was concern and he would tell him so after the mission. Alex was now fuming and stomped off towards the turbolift tube that was faster than the normal elevator to the sub-basement.

Why had he chosen that moment to talk to Scott? Well with Scott it was either now or never, his leadership skills had made him adept at fobbing people off with a later. It was more than Alex could stand and he slammed his fists into the side of the lift as it descended. Didn't Scott realise that he had lost so much of his memory? Yeah lay into your younger brother claim the moral high ground and take advantage of his condition. Had Alex even made the right decision to come to the mansion? He wasn't sure anymore maybe he would have been better off on his own.

Stupid Scott, Stupid anti-mutants and more importantly Stupid Alex. Maybe it was time to leave the mansion..........

As the images were displayed on the screen Kurt paid close attention to the floors layouts. If he were to be relied upon to get anyone out in a hurry then he would need to know where he was going. He didn't fancy ending up trapped in an exhibition display or worse.. embedded in a wall.

Also he hoped he wouldn't have to carry too many others at once, the exhaustion he felt after doing such a thing was no where near as bad as in the early days of trying it, but it could still limit him and his passengers on arrival.

At least his powers were no longer so severly limited, and he could manage a good number of 'ports in one day.

He turned to listen to Storm's plan.

Nate walked confidentally in the direction of the war room entrance. He knew the way, having been there a number of times before. Of course, the fact that he had erased everyones memory didn't mean he could erase the x-men's computer records, he simply encouraged peoples mind to ignore the information there.

When he finally came to the entrance, the security details originally recorded when he first knew the x-men triggered, recognising him and giving him access. With a slight smile, Nate stepped through into the secure areas of the mansion, and went to join the others in the war room.

He didn't really check, but he assumed that Logan was right behind him as he entered the room, just in time to see the pictures of the Guggenheim and the floor plans. Nate had been there before, several times in fact, since he had lived in the city for quite some time. Of course, the fact that you could easily mask your presence meant you could go pretty much anywhere undetected.

Nate didn't speak up at first, he simply examined the plans, noting that they were very much up to date, and paying specific attention to the entry and exit points to the rooms that were being used that night.

Though Nate may be chronologically a child, he had been mentally and emotionally matured at an accelerated level, he had also been educated in a great many things, tactics included. So whilst it came as a surprise to the others, it probably wouldn't have if Hank had read through all the notes he had taken on Nate the first time round.

"If you have Warren and Betty going in legitimately, how do you plan to get the other members of the gold team in unnoticed. Kurt could take people in one by one, but that would be be time consuming and inefficient. I can get myself and one other person in easily enough, but we still face the problem of infiltrating mutants into a location containing strongly anti-mutant sentiments."

Nate hadn't looked up yet, though he probably could have guessed the responses. The thing was, though Nate was a probationary member of the team, he had worked with them before and knew their capabilities. He was also skilled at working alone, as he had done these past few months. However, he wasn't the leader here, so all he was really doing was giving options.

"Do we have any information on the security systems for tonight. I can fool a manually monitored security system, but i can't fool a psuedo AI based facial recognition system. If the invites have digital encoding in them i won't be able to fool that, though i can create invites and have names put on the list."

As he said that, Nate placed a cream coloured card on the table, with an invitation written in gold lettering upon it, asking the presence of Nate Grey and guest at the Guggenheim for the evenings gathering. "Obviously i'd need to see an original, or scan someone who had seen one to make a perfect copy." Nate looked over at Warren, letting him know with the glance that Nate hadn't scanned Warren to obtain details of the invitation, and wouldn't, not without Warren giving permission.

Warren nodded at Nate, "My invite is upstairs, you can look at it before we go. It's up to Storm whether you go in with us or not. Cyclops may need you for his investigations."

Kitty also spoke up, "I'll start looking into the museum's security." she said to the room and moved to a terminal.

Picking the card up, he tapped it against the table a few times, causing the soft sound of card being knocked against metal to sound in the room. "Its got a fair bit of solidity to it, but it probably won't fool a purely electronic system."

Nate took a moment to look around the room, "I'm saying these things now so that you have some more of an idea of what i can and can't do. If we are going to be working together again, you need to know these things. Hank has some fairly comprehensive notes, as he tested me quite extensively when first we met but i know he hasn't had chance to brief you on them yet."

Though the others had been engaged in some banter before Nate arrived, the young man was all professional in his way of speaking with the others. Personally he would have loved to enter into the banter, but he could understand that it might make the others uncomfortable, knowing that he knew far more about them than they knew about him.

Jean looked up as Nate walked in and watched him as he examined the floor plans, the listened as he spoke so confidently to them all. She could hear Scott as he spoke, how at ease he seemed with them all and how sure he was of his own abilities to get the job done.

Hank had said earlier that Nate had been born naturally, but then manipulated to age both physically, and quite clearly mentally. Seven he maybe, but he was not in demeanour or attitude. She found herself wondering things like when his birthday was, or had she or Scott, well their counterparts where he was from, had any influence in his upbringing at all.

Part of her wanted to put the world and it's problems on pause, so she could spend time with him, get to know him better, but as usual now was not the time. It she could do that then she'd find the time to think about what was happening to her too.

She listened to Warren's reply, grateful that he had pointed out, delicately, that Nate shouldn't assume he was going to the museum just yet. She could also sense the waves of disappointment coming from Kitty as the realisation hit the teenager, that she probably wouldn't be going into the field, and that she'd be playing the role of Hacker Extraordinaire from here at the mansion.

But what of herself, where would she be in all of this. If Nate went with Storm then they were covered by two strong telepaths. Would she then go with Scott and the others, or perhaps stay behind and serve as liaison with all of them.

Part of her didn't want the responsibility of the decision making, but if not her then who else...

Nate nodded once in response to Warren, "I know. Whoever makes the decision needs to have all of the information though."

Nate glanced towards Charles for a moment, remembering how he had first met the telepath. The astral plane was another one of the tools at Nate's command.

"Getting in is one of the things i may be best at. I can deceive minds, craft illusions or travel directly through the astral plane. Its not quite teleporting like Kurt does, but it works. The other thing you will need to consider is that either myself or Jean really needs to go in. If there is a bomb, you will need a telekinetic to contain the explosion."

As he said these things, Nate's appearance changed. His hair become swept back and neat, his face clean shaven, his clothes change to a very expensive looking tux. A pair of red tinted shades covered his eyes. The rustle as the soft cloth brushed against other cloth was evident as he moved. If someone were to touch him, they would feel the softness of the jacket, or the silk shirt underneath. Of course Nate could do this a number of ways. He could telekinetically re- arrange the molocules of his clothing, or he could simply clothe himself in illusions infused with telekinetic energy, given them substance as well as appearance. All in all, he cut a very dashing figure, before his clothes and appearance returned to normal

Nate also knew he had a good chance of containing a fairly decent sized explosion as well, and he was fairly sure that Jean could, especially with her newfound access to the Phoenix Force. More importantly, one or the other of them could scan the guests for signs of terrorist intentions.

*Red Shades* Jean telepathically sent to Nate, *Nice touch.*

"Perhaps both Nate and I should go along." Jean spoke up at last, "Between the three of us," she included Betsy in this, "We would be able to keep tabs on those there, and with those on the outside."

Jean looked to Ororo, *Obviously it's your decision.* she sent, *But I've made my decision, I'm not going to sit back here, if you want me in the field I'm there.*

Sighing slightly, Betsy spoke up. "We're all assuming that if anything happens, it will be at the Museum. Which I admit is a fair guess, given the attendees and the high profile status of the event. I wouldn't even necessarily be surprised if this wasn't all being organised to set us up. After all, anyone who knows anything about the X-men would know we'd head along to try and help in these circumstances. But - should we really send all our telepaths into the one area? We need one, probably two, just to scan for surface destructive or fatalistic thoughts. I can also understand the value of a telekinetic. But are there any other areas we also want to cover?"

As she finished, Betsy looked around at the others. She didn't want to get pulled off the mission into the Museum, in fact she still thought she'd be extremely useful in there. For her own abilities and also because she wasn't recently re-inhabited by cosmic entities OR completely new with a track record of wiping everyone's minds. But the point about having all the telepaths in one room did, in her opinion, need to be raised. Given the choice she'd shoo Nate off with Cyclops - he was after all technically his father, and Nate seemed to be having some 'I'm so powerful and great' issues which could use some old-fashioned father influence...

"I say we send the new guy in by 'mself. He seems like he know how to be doing everything, anyway." chimed in Remy at Nate's apparent 'know-it-all attitude.' "Maybe he not used to working with a team as good as de X-men." Remy turns and looks back toward the door. "'Sides he seem a little too eager t' me. But, I be team Blue and my team leader not here yet, so Ol' Gambit just gonna hangout in de corner."

Hank listened to all the discussion, and paid particular attention to Nates' approach to the matter. He was rather impressed with the front Nate was presenting, and with his ability to create an invitation to the event. However, he also wanted a telepath to be with the investigations group. And he did not want Nate to be in the middle of another terror attack. Nate had not done so well during the last one, and as far as Hank was concerned, had not demonstrated fidelity enough to handle an open-ended field assignment, especially in a leading role. Despite all the power the lad had, he was still working hard to impress them, and that was not sufficient to warrant placing him in the middle of a potentially explosive position.

Remy provided him with a good entry point for what he wanted to say.

He took a deep breath before speaking. "Actally, Remy, I appreciate what you have to say. As for deployments...The Guggenheim is a very difficult place to protect, and it would be wise to have more than one of our telepaths be there. Since Jean and Betsy are familiar with one another, I think they should be at the Ball. I would prefer, if Nate is to go to the field, to have him join the Club investigation, where he can gain, or regain, an appropriate introduction to methodology and team work. He has demonstrated insufficient facility in these areas, already, today." Hank was being blunt about it. He did want Nate around, but he did not want him to become the wild card that everybody in a trained, efficient machine (Ororo's) would have to deal with on a critical and potentially very visible protective mission. "Given his talents, and those of our other investigators, we may be able to reconstruct the crime scene and even potentially identify culprits. Nate could be invaluable to that. It would also provide him with a template for a more considered response to future crises."

Hank did not add that Nate could possibly have saved lives and prevented injury if he had remained at the scene of the bombing. It was hard to be openly critical about that. Nate had been one man, and had made a decision. Hank's decision would likely have been to save the civilians, and worry about apprehending the suspect later.

Jean could feel her temper rising slightly, yes Nate was confident and sure of himself, but the same could be said for a number of others in the room.

She kept silent though, kept her retorts contained. There was no point raising an issue now, and if anyone was going to it would either be Nate or the Professor. For a moment though, for a fraction of a second, she thought she saw flames outlining her hands.

Then Hank spoke up, applauding Nate's abilities and Jean felt her temper subside, and grow calm again. Both he and Warren although not taking Nate's side so to speak were willing to give the boy more of a chance. She didn't know if that was simply because of their close friendship with Scott and herself, but she did appreciate it nonetheless.

Hank decided to let go of those matters, and move on. "As for the Guggenheim itself, the main museum is in the form of an inverted ziggurat, domed, with sufficient internal volume to sustain the use of Storms' powers. The side galleries are, effectively, a labyrinthe, and while it may be useful to trap opponents In one of these, it is the case that there is often but one way out of the deeper galleries."

He saw others looking at him. "I spend quite a bit of time visiting new exhibits there. The Guggenheim is after all one of the greatest museums in the world. It is also well secured, but by fairly normal methods. The special police units DO have more advanced sensors, of course, and they may be deployed there. The hard part about just walking in, is that there is an invitation list, probably already printed out. One might obscure the minds of those using the lists, and present forged invitations, but I am sure they will cross-check against their database, at some point."

He looked at Kurt. "Kurt can get people in, I am sure, but frankly, the stench of brimstone will be quite a foreign odor at the museum, and he may be caught on the security cameras. If he does `port in, he should probably choose to do so in a maintenance passageway, and after a telekinetic has arrived to take out whatever visual surveillance is there."

He looked around, a bit worried. "It would be nice to leave the place the way you find it, also. The loss to arts culture would be significant if serious damage occurred in the museum. Of course, the lives of people are more important than the art."

Jean smiled, on quieter afternoons in the past she had walked the Guggenheim's corridors with Hank. Keeping the treasures it held safe would be a priority.

"I don't need to be inside." Jean said, "Psylocke and I would be able to keep in contact just as easy if I were outside."

She paused, thinking, "If need be, I could telepathically hold people in place, as a means to escape."

Peter had come in part way through, and leant against the wall, listening.

"Unless he can surprise us, my armoured form is strong enough to protect me from any reasonable attack, and my mass might shield those near me to some extent. I need a fraction of a second to shift, however. If our telepaths pick up on hostile thoughts, I can be ready..."

Logan remained in the 'civilian' clothes he was in, just grabbing a leather jacket and his cowboy hat before meeting up with Beast - unsurprised to find him in his attire of choice, smelling him inside it.

"Blue fits ya better, bub." Logan pointed out cooly - he was very much someone who didn't believe that mutants should hide because of what they appeared like. Hank was a more decent being that most humans. Hated for the colour of his ... fur - the inexplicable, the different.

Things didn't change, unless someone did something about it.

Hank leaned in toward Logan, to speak quietly. "Perhaps so. I do expect my back will ache from the brace I am using to stay upright, in a few hours. On the other hand and feet, this is good practice, remembering to walk like a man. And my Avengerer ID is good with this face, as well as my 'normal' one."

He was listening to the discussion, such as it was, with half an ear, and did not really expect Logan to respond to him.

"Any candidates on the explosives so far, prof?" ... it was worth a shot letting Hank do some guessing ... for one, it distracted Logan from considerably darker things he was brooding on, on the other hand it kept Hank from philosophising about this, that and the other. That Logan did not need right now.

Hank himself had some candidates, but before he could really think about that, Ororo started to speak.

Storm had sat with her hands folded into a steeple as she listened to the exchange around her. The smile that had graced her beautiful face while Nightcrawler, Rogue, and Gambit had joked had faded into a serene lack of epxression.

"Silence." She said, just loud enough to shut the mouths of the people who had been about to interject.

"Nate, you will stick close to Doctor McCoy and aid him in whatever means he sees fit. Do not stray from his side if you wish to prove your loyalty." Storm said quite clearly. She knew Nate would sigh and complain about how he had already done that. But his actions had voided whatever trust Strom originally had in the youngest Mr. Summers. If there was one X-Man that Storm trusted to keep an eye on Nate, instruct Nate, and do his job at the same time it was Herny McCoy. Anyone else she would feel like she was imposing on them. Not the Beast.

Remaining in her chair, she let her arms fold in front of her as she spoke. "Warren and Betsy will enter the museum using Mister Worthington's invitation. They will be able to blend in the best of any of us, without altering people's minds." Storm had a rather direct approach to leadership - Don't rely on powers if you don't have to. "Warren's presence may also cause people's thoughts on mutants to become more evident. It will be easier for Elizabeth to pick up on any threats from within the museum."

"Kurt, study the blueprint and layout of the Guggenheim. You will be on the roof, blending in with the shadows, prepared to teleport in for a quick rescue if Warren and Betsy find themselves targets."

"The remainder of my team will join me in Central Park. A very thick fog while keep us out of sight from the building security and any criminals. We will be seconds away if something happens that merits our intervention, and we will act as lookouts as well. Jean will use her telepathy to make herself aware of any approaching assassins that we will not be able to see in the fog."

Storm could tell that everyone understood. Her tone was sober and serious. "Does any member of my team not understand their function tonight?" She asked.

She assigned Nate directly to him (and Hank wondered if Scott was going to let that stick), which he felt was a good idea, even if he expected the young man to complain about it. And then she went on to define the roles and duties of her own team. For that, she did not need Scott.

As she finished, he nodded to her, and then to Nate. But he decided not to say anything, waiting to see if any other shoes dropped.

Nate hadn't responded as several individuals in the room decided to make an issue of his responses, he didn't feel the need to. They were entitled to their opinion, even if they were reacting purely on an emotional level, rather than a reasoned one. The very thing they were condemning him for doing so. He wasn't going to respond to their disparaging him, why should he. He knew his own abilities, and Hank would do so soon as well. He knew what he could and could not do. How the X-Men chose to use or ignore such capabilities was entirely their own choice.

He did however notice when Jean started to look annoyed at the comments. He did take a moment to send a message to her 'You get used to it, being the outsider. It's not like Remy, Betsy, Ororo or Logan ever did something the others frowned upon'

*Well exactly* she replied, *I guess it's just going to take people time, you included.*

The sarcastic irony of the statement was obvious to Jean, though it wasn't all that Nate said 'Don't worry about it, I'll stick with Hank, at least I know he won't make rash emotional judgements, maybe they are just annoyed that they got caught with their pants down, so to speak'

That last comment was accompanied by a pathed image which was almost guaranteed to have Jean laughing quietly to herself.

Jean smirked, but luckily her hand covered her face to hide it. *Just don't give your "Dad" a hard time, or give him any excuses... I've put him though more than enough today.* she finally added, her concern for Scott was obvious.

She didn't think that Nate would do anything to antagonise Scott, but being a little more cautious would be helpful all round.

Nate hid a slight smile himself, *I wasn't planning on giving anyone a hard time. They don't trust me, and to be honest, I don't blame them. If they'd just attacked me, I probably wouldn't be that well inclined towards them. I suppose they will work it out over time*

Jean nodded, then paid attention to all that Ororo was saying, nodding again when she was mentioned to show she agreed.

When Ororo finished laying out her instructions, Nate simply nodded to the weather witch and smiled once at Hank. He'd gotten on well with this versions Hank McCoy, just as he had done with his own timelines version. There were many good things to be said for being able to path conversations to individuals, and thus vent any frustrations quietly, without need to voice them openly.

With no immediate replies or questions springing from anyone's lips Professor X gave the plan his blessing by nodding. "Iceman will be joining you inside the museum, along with Spiderman. Peter Parker had already been assigned to cover the Ball for the Daily Bugle. He will be arranging a press pass for Iceman."

He looked at Kitty, "Shadowcat you'll remain here, and keep in communication with Storm and the others, and crack into the Museum's security and provide help that way if needed."

"All of you go and prepare. I assume that Archangel and Psylocke will make their way to the museum in one of the cars, the rest as Storm sees fit."

As the Professor then confirmed her team leader's idea Jean stood up, and waited to see how they would be getting to the museum before leaving to change. She needed to know if she'd be piloting this evening or not.

Kurt understood, and was prepared for what was expected of him. He returned to the blueprint and downloaded a copy into a small portable device that he would be able to refer to after leaving the room.

He wondered if the Gargoyles were good conversationalists.

Kurt's attention diverted to the Professor as he spoke, and he noted Kitty nodding, her disapointment hidden for the time being.

"Will do." she replied to the room, and kept at what she was doing.

"Then everyone knows their duty." Storm said, she slowly stood. "I do not see any wisdom in landing an aircraft in Central Park, especially if we wish to keep a low profile. We will travel conventionally." Well, as conventionally as was possible for the X-Men.

Storm saw that her team was taking it seriously, Nate seemed willing to play along, Warren and Betsy understood the seriousness of it all, even Nightcrawler had turned from jester to student. Storm felt some regret at placing the jovial fuzzy elf alone on the rooftop. She would make it up to him.

*It is amazing, that we can keep ourselves together enough to live in the same house let alone fight crime.* She thought. *Would we be able to do that if not for our powers? Or do they do more to divide us than unite us? Without them, we would see each other as different, maybe we would not even be friends.* She glanced about the room. So many stories, so many backgrounds. *Each of us is an oddity. And that is how we conform.* She thought, with a touch of melancholy.

She relaxed her mind and send a message to Jean. *Jean, if for some reason you do not feel well I could use you to stay behind near the aircraft in case a quick rescue is needed. I do not doubt you, but please do not misplace your courage.* Ororo thought gently.

Jean's green eyes looked at Ororo, as she caught the thought directed at her. She found herself biting her lower lip slightly as she considered her best friend's words. *It's not that I don't feel well, it's more the uncertainity of what I am now going to be capable of.* she sent back. Her tone changed to a more confident on as she continued, *I know I can fly though, I can pilot the Blackbird blindfolded. If you're sure then I'll stay here and act as back up. If you or Scott's team need to get out fast then the Blackbird is the best option. The Stealth technology Forge installed is remarkable.*

Jean was glad she'd still be of use, but also realised that if she didn't go into the city, then she'd be able to stay and conduct a few tests of her new powers.

Nate walked casually over to the disguised blue furry guy. "Looks like I'm with you chief!"

As Kurt Stood, Rogue caught the look on Ororo's face and although no Telepath, concern was clear to anyone with a high degree of emotional intelligence. Pushing away from the wall, Rogue stretched her arms widely, asif working out kinks.

" Well, ah doan do subtle too good, so if you feel like company Kurt, ya gonna have ta holler real loud, I aint as fast as you place to place, but ah sure do like a nice view from up high."

Kurt smiled at Rogue, realising that she wouldn't be able to accompany him, but he appreciated the offer anyway.

She turned to allow Ororo to see her expression, clearly showing that although not a leader, she was just as protective of people as Storm.

"So ah git to play hide an' seek 'till somethin needs hittin on some? I begin ta feel ya'll think me lackin' refinement or sumthin "

Something in her mind firmed and become resolute, no matter what the power plays going on, the troubled young man needed some folk to extend the hand of friendship. Anything else just wouldn't be right.

she smiled broadly and looked directly at Nate " An you, look after the Doc here, he's far too clever fo' his own good "

"Not quite Rogue." Storm said. "I do not know what Scott's plans are for you. I would not give you orders unless something had happened to him." It was obviously a sore spot for the weather witch that she was continually being upstaged by her counterpart. It was even more obvious that she was trying to act like it was not a big deal.

Kurt nodded at the woman anyway, "Danke, but let us hope I don't need you, otherwise I'd probably be in trouble."

He turned to Storm, "I have downloaded a map," he told her and also went to grab and ear piece communicator, "which I will study more on route, the glass roof will allow me a good view so I will be able to teleport in and out."

He turned back again and added, "I will go and change, and will be ready in two shakes of my own tail."

BAMF

Kurt left the War Room as quickly as he had arrived and quickly prepared for the mission.

Nate looked up, a little surprised by Rogue's comment, but gratified nonetheless. A smile flashed across his face towards the southern belle. "I'll do my best, though I think I'm going with him so he can look after me. I'm only a 7 year old after all, can't have children in the way"

The last was said without any rancor, but more a gentle tease at the X-Men in the room who had evidently been thinking of him as a young kid, all because of his chronological age. Still, the smile that crossed his face as he said it made it evident that he was only teasing.

"Since, aside from Professor Xavier, I am almost certainly the oldest member of this team currently in residence, I shall deign to consider you all to be children... as they sometimes call us, Children of the Atom." He grinned toothily at Rogue, and winked at Gambit. "Which is of course a misnomer. Now, let as people seem to be breaking into work groups on Gold Team, perhaps the Blue Team can assemble at this end of the table to talk about what we are going to do? Betsy is of course excused, for her party preparations and secondment to Gold Team for the night."

He was still going to wait for Scott to handle actual deployments, but he could start this while Scott listened, or thought through his own tactics.

"As you may all be aware, the X-Factor team has some contacts with the police, and I have had many fruitful interactions with police and fire protection services. Both will be on the scene of the club. Now, I have a right to investigate, with police permission, as a reserve Avenger. I wish to identify the rest of you as private investigations techs I am training, and we will need to provide you all with a suitable electronic cover, and ID badges. This, I shall leave to Kitty Pryde, to accomplish. Once we have a formal looking badge, the printers in the Paddy wagon will suffice to produce those, and individual business cards. It is a ruse, but one that should hold, for now."

He looked over all of them in the room, Logan, Rogue, Remy, Nate, and himself. In an investigation, Scott was more or less the odd man out, as his training and inclinations for for a more active field foray. Of course,if they uncovered anything important, Scott would find himself fully in charge in a moment, regardless of other conditions. Hank was glad, as he had demonstrated his own failings in that kind of leadership with the New (and last) Defenders. "Now, we each have something to contribute here. Remy, I should think you might hit the streets near the scene, look for anything distinctive, for contacts who may respond well to your particular patter?" Hank grinned, thinking this would be pretty girls, street grifters, and gang members, for the most part. Not the sort he could question and get any effective response.

"Logan, you may want to check the periphery of the crime scene, once we identify you to the police and firemen. Check for any hint of the method of encroachement, and then do a perimeter check. Keep in touch by communicator, and use Rogue as your immediate backup. You too, Remy, Rogue can stay mobile and help either of you at need, as you are the best 'weapon of second resort'. And yes, Nate, I imagine you may have more ability in some regards. But you also don't know the scene, the team, or our methods, yet. And we are not fully aware of yours." Hank was not rubbing it in, but ensuring that Nate was aware of the reservations Hank felt.

"So, Nate, you can cloud minds a bit, and stick by me. I will ask you to probe for things the vans' sensors cannot pick up, nor my senses and my experience of crime scenes. My guess is that Scott will stick with the Paddy Wagon and stay in close communication and sensor watch. I expect to be in the middle of the crime scene, of the investigators will have me, Nate. You may wish to examine your memories and help me to reconstruct those moments of the events surrounding the bomb blasts." He felt that this was going to be a bit of an eye opener for Nate, as Hank DID trust him to be able to greatly enhance their likelihood of a positive investigation.

"I will not be able to keep up much patter, surrounded by investigators, but will make my comments as I may. This could be through direct mind link with Nate, if any of you are willing to trust this work to him. And if Nate will agree not to tamper with any of our minds, I will gladly consent to such a thing." Hank was trying to make it easier for the others. He really did believe Nate meant no harm, but he also wanted Nate to recognize limitations, and agree to them in a way the others would recognize and respect.

In any event, none of you should follow a line of investigation that runs deeply or far without having a second Blue Team member backstop the efforts. And Nate, as a provisional member, you will need to stick with me, save under orders from Scott, whose orders supercede almost anything I have to say." He grinned at the others, who would, he hoped recognize that there was a line between tactics and non- tactical activity, and one one side, Scott was supreme.

Warren glanced at the clock, and then stood up.

"Storm, Betsy and I had better get ready and ship out. It won't do to be late to this thing, even in an attempt to be fashionable." he said to Storm.

He walked over to a panel and opened it, and picked up two very small ear pieces, made by Hank that were undetectable to metal detectors and other such security systems.

He walked back and handy one to Betsy, it would mean that should anything happen they'd be able to keep in touch with the others, who would also be wearing them.

Once she had taken it he extended his hand to her and said, "Well Ms Braddock, it's not quite the evening I had planned, but lets go and socialise with New York's finest."

Smiling, Betsy took his hand "Why I'd be delighted Mr Worthington"

"Hopefully all will go well." Storm said to the departing couple as they left. She trusted Warren to get everything ready in time.

Bobby opened the door to his Dodge Viper and swung into the Bucket seat behind the Steering wheel. Dropping Jen off had left a bitter taste in his mouth, nothing to do with the kid, it was the Family thing. Bobby was mildly jealous to be honest. Jen's parents seemed to be your normal well to do family, they had been concerned about their daughter and had thanked him for her return. Bobby had given the usual Xavier speech and told them that Jen had been accepted into Xaviers for Saturday classes with oppertunities of more should she wish. Mr Drake, the math and accountancy teacher had then left.

As he closed the door, he revved the 500hp car to life, released the brake and shot off towards westchester. Xavier's had been the only home he had known from a young age and Jean, Scott, Hank and the Prof his family. Jen was lucky, her Dad was a caring man not like Bobby's waste of space hick of an old man. Bah it wasn't a day to be thinking of that old burke. He reached out for the Radio and rammed the radio up to loud with the local Rock station pumping. The Dodge tore up the road and with a slight extension of his will Bobby kept the viper running at optimum performance by cooling the air intakes.

Jean worried him, she was his sister and he didn't like to see her suffer under the pressure of both the Phoenix and a kid calling himself her son. Bobby held a special place in his heart for her, one of love, but more brotherly than romantic. She had been one of the few who could defeat his icy charms and Scott had rightly won that little challenge. Now ol' starch pants, he needed to chill, maybe some ice cubes in his mission suit next time. Scott though was his bro and it hurt to see him confused by ths new factor. Ah, the kid done wrong, something Bobby had never done, yeah right......

Many miles and much Head banging later, the latest Foo Fighter track was interrupted, By a news flash........

Bobby listen intently as the reporter detailed the explosion and the bodycount so far. He knew that there would be an Anti-mutant reaction, but wasn't there always nowadays? Bobby entered a code into the Radio and a new panel appeared on the dash board, tapping a few keys the engine growled for a sec and the Shi'ar turbo kicked in propelling the viper forward even faster. He had to get back to the mansion he'd be needed. Exerting his will again the air around the Viper started to chill condensating providing a mist to cloak the speeding car.

"Computer, patch me into the mansion. Signal the war room tell them I'm on my way and give estimated ETA. Oh, Computer. Get me a hot dog ready as well for my arrival."

A sultry female voice confirmed his request. Focusing on his thoughts he projected them knowing the prof would be listening:

*Prof, fill me in. Where you want me? Whats up?*

At that moment a hot dog sprung up near Bobby's seat. Storm glanced at the Professor, wondering if this meant anything had changed.

She saw Rogue extend the olive branch to Nate. And of course that made sense. When Rogue had arrived at the mansion, she had not had anywhere near as cordial a welcome as Nate had received. In fact, the majority of the X-Men, Storm included, had threatened to leave the team if Rogue was a member.

Once upon a time Ororo Monroe would have been the one extending the olive branch, while Logan or Charles kept a watchful, mistrustful, eye on the newcomer. But that opportunity was gone for her. As a leader, she had to put the welfare of her team above her concern for any individual. It always hurt her to make such decisions, but that was forever the cruel price of protecting the ones you love.

Charles caught Storm's glance, "I am confirming things with Iceman now, he heard the news on the radio and was preparing," he indicated the hotdog, "his return home. I will communicate the rest of your plans with him now."

He then turned away from the others and focused on Robert's location, *Iceman, as you have heard it seems that that the imagined blame for this afternoon's bombing falls on mutants. Whether that is true or not the Gold Team will be going to Manhattan to investigate the NYPD Ball. None of us agree with Senator Kelly's 'Mutant Registration Act', but we cannot allow the possibility of renegade mutants trying to assassinate him.*

Pressing a few controls on his chair Charles then set up the transfer of a copy of the Museum's floor plans to the computer in the Viper. *I am sending you the plans of the Museum. Archangel and Psylocke will be utilising his inviation to the Ball and attending as guests, Nightcrawler will be position on the roof and the rest of the Gold Team will be in Central Park as back up.*

With the plans sent he then continued, *You, however, will also go inside the museum. I received word from Peter Parker, he will be attending in a Press capacity and has the means to allow you to masquerade as a representative of the Daily Bugle also. Head to Peter's now, the Gold Team will be on route shortly.*

The Professor knew that there was a communications ear piece and other such equipment stored in the Viper, so Iceman would not be ill- equipped. He sat patiently in the War Room awaiting a response.

As Betsy and Warren headed up the stairs, she considered the evening ahead of them. Admittedly it wasn't fine wines and roses, or even a date as such, but she was looking forward to their role.

Flashing a teasing look at him, she said "I have to go and get changed...but I'll see you in the entrance in...20 minutes? We can plan in the car." With those words, she picked up pace and vanished up the stairs to her room.

Warren smiled and let her get ahead of him, he half considered using the elevators, which would get him to the first floor quicker than walking, but, he conceded, the exercise would do him good.

When he emerged from the subbasement levels to the normal basement the decor changed dramatically, no longer hi-tech, but a typical mansion basement. He personally had plunged a lot of money into the development and redevelopment of the Institute, especially when oh so helpful megalomaniacs saw fit to destroy the place. Warren didn't begrudge a cent though, the Professor's goal was a noble one and this place was his home, so he was happy to help contribute towards it all.

Emerging from the basement to the richly decorated mansion ground floor Warren quickly headed for the main staircase and up to the east wing where his and the other X-Men's rooms were located. His was on the outside wall, between Pete's room and the one assigned to Alex Summers, Betsy's was four doors down from his.

He glanced in her room's direction then entered his to get ready. As he closed the door behind him he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and paused.

"Warren Worthington," he said to his reflection, "Playboy millionaire, or blue skinned freak?"

He'd been out in public a number of times since the change, and he'd even learnt to deal with it personally, with the help of Jean, but it still didn't mean he was completely at ease. There were those who recognised him for what he was, a super hero, someone who helped protect them, but then there were those who focused on the word 'mutant'.

He pulled of the black t-shirt he had been wearing, revealing the rest of his blue torso, then with a sudden flash of silver, accompanied by the scraping of metal on metal, his wings unfolded to their full 16 foot span.

At first he hated them, the razor sharp edges, the metal shards with their toxins, but they did mean he could fly again, something which he thought he'd never be able to do again. These wings were more concealable than his old ones too, they folded down tightly into his back, he wasn't grateful though. He'd never thank Apocalypse for what he did to him, never, he simply made the best with what he had, which was all he could do.

He shook his head, and once again caused the wings to fold in and be a flat metal plate on his back. Casting the t-shirt into a hamper he went to the closet and sort out one of his formal suits. He changed quickly, and once his black waistcoat was buttoned and his jacket was on he paused briefly to study his reflection again. The blue skin was still there, obviously, and it stood out against the black of the Armani, but he wasn't going to wear an image inducer, not for anything or anyone.

He quickly styled his blond hair, it wouldn't do going to thing looking a state, even if he was going for ulterior motives. Satisfied he made his way from his room, and back into the corridor. There was no sign of Betsy as yet, but perhaps she was waiting for him downstairs.

Arriving in foyer he found it vacant, so he waited, wondering what the night was going to bring.

Walking into her room, Betsy shut the door, lent back against it and closed her eyes. A lot had happened in the past few hours, and she hadn't had a chance yet to quite catch up. Nate. Apparently hugely competent, also apparently someone who knew a lot more about them then they did about him. There were very few, if any, ways of considering that as a positive thing and she didn't like it.

Jean. Not something she really knew how to deal with. Cosmic entities were - not really her thing, also the entire Cyclops episode wasn't so far in the past that Jean might not still be annoyed. So essentially not something to worry about until it started affecting things. She wasn't however about to start treating Jean as though she was someone else...having had her own experience of this, she knew how isolating that could feel.

So.
Warren. Well that was a whole new area! Not so much the ... admittedly quite bone tingling, self-support melting kissing ... more the date question. More the whole thing of suddenly realising that there was someone who maybe actually really _understood_. Betsy wasn't exactly into bewailing her woes to the world, but sometimes...sometimes it scared her to look into the mirror and not be able to see herself. To remember seeing herself die. To know that she had been torn completely out of herself and left, to survive. Warren maybe, out of all of them, understood...

Suddenly she realised she was dropping into the sort of thoughts that only crossed her mind in the hours before dawn, and mentally gave herself a shake. Opening her eyes again, she banished the negativity to the back of her mind and walked over to the wardrobe.

As she rummaged through the items on the hangers, she started thinking instead about what the evening held. A protest rally, which would almost certainly turn its attentions to them. So a definite need to look drop-dead gorgeous. Not that hard - this body might never have made it as a supermodel, but it wasn't exactly unattractive. A Ball at a Museum with assorted dignitaries. So smart clothes a definite. A possible fight. So a need to be able to move in what she was wearing. A small voice in her head added that a dress which made Warren want to take her on a proper date at some point might be good too...

One dress did stand out amongst the rest - a floor length silk dress in dark blue. As she pulled it out, it sparkled.

Taking everything else off, then putting this on, she shivered slightly, forgetting beforehand that silk was inevitably cool to the skin. As she smoothed it down, Betsy smiled. She hadn't worn anything nice - or at least designed to look feminine or elegant - in a very long time. She walked over to her mirror to check and nodded in approval at herself. It looked good, smart AND had long slits down either side, which meant that if it came to a fight, she wouldn't be crippled. Well that and they admittedly might help fulfil objective number 4 too.

A quick rush around for shoes, make-up and a hairbrush later, she felt ready enough to present herself. Glancing in the mirror again, she smiled, as if in brief self-reassurance, then straightened and headed out the door towards the foyer.

Alex had alot to think about, things would have to be resloved with his brother later, there were other things to worry about. Slowly he made his way to the war room make a slight detour to pick up a new containment suit. He wasn't happy, all he wanted to do right now was put his feet up an sup on a cold one. Now if Lorna was here she would have had a kind word, a smile and more importantly a hug for him. He wished she was here it had been so long...........

He walked into the war room just as Bobby made his call into the mansion. Bobby that was another one to watch. Not only was he the oppertunist prankster but icy touch seemed to have the reverse effect on women. Ice boy could charm his way into the playboy mansion and walk out with all the bunnies on his arm if he wanted. Bobby had even made a play for Lorna in the past and that was something Alex wouldn't let him do again. As he took a place to listen to the briefing, he nodded to the others in the room. There was something about the Cajun, Gambit, had never told his full story and his love of Rogue had to be admired even if it was ill fated.

Then he saw him, NATE, Alex felt uncomfortable now. How would he deal with his Nephew? What would he say if Nate talked to him?

*Siddle back Alex listen to Storm and the Prof, avoid him, last thing you want to do is to talk to the mind stealer........Yet.

The doors to the war room wooshed open and Cyclops walked in, his eyes noting Havok's arrival.

*Typical,* he thought to himself, *I bet be dash down the stairs just to beat me here.*

He pushed aside his frustration for his younger brother, and look to Professor X,
"Sorry sir, won't happen again." he said by means of an apology.

"It's all right Scott." came the reply, the Professor felt the tension of the 'discussion' Cyclops and Havok had had despite being 3 floors below them. "But time is of the essence so we must press on. Storm has given her orders, and Psylocke will be going to the Ball with Archangel."

Scott nodded, he'd need to apologise to Ororo at some point later. His eyes then found Jean's, *You ok kid?* he aked her via their telepathic rapport.

*Yes,* came her reply, *but I'm staying here tonight. I'll be on standby with the Blackbird should you or Storm need it.*

He nodded, then turned to address the others. "Sorry for the delay people, here's how it's going to be."

He looked at Beast, "Beast you have more pull overall due to your status as a reserve Avenger, we X-Men can't exactly commandeer a crime scene, so you'll be the main point of contact with those officials on the scene. If the bomb blast occurred at about," he did a quick count in his head, "5 hours ago then chances are it's been combed over already, but I'm pretty that between you and Wolverine you'll be able to dig up something fresh."

He turned to Remy, "Gambit, if there is any information on the streets then dig it out. Rogue and I will act as back up. When we're done we'll move to a secondary position deemed suitable by Storm near the museum."

There, he'd made sure he'd not taken Storm out of the equation. He turned to face his co-leader, "If that's agreeable to you, then perhaps you could radio me the position and we'll head there as soon as we can."

*Scott,* the Professor's thoughts entered his mind, *I would like you to take Nate with you. I believe he will be useful to Beast's investigation.*

Scott paused for a moment, wanting to argue, saying that Nate was an unknown element and that would bring trouble, but if both Hank and the Professor wanted it that way... and besides Nate knew more about their tactics...

"Nate," he said outloud, looking at the kid and finding himself taken aback for a moment, he could see his own features and Jean's staring back at him, "You'll be coming with us, help out Beast as you can, but you put one toe out of line then you'll be sitting the rest of it out." he finished firmly.

There, all done, except for... Alex.

"Havok," Charles' voice cut into Scott's thought, perhaps almost anticipating them.

The Professor was looking at the younger Summers, "I know you are keen to step in, to help, but I thought that with everyone occupied we could take the time to investigate your missing memories."

Scott prevented himself from sighing with relief, he didn't want to be in a position where his brother would have to take orders from him. Not because he didn't want him around, but because Alex was probably still rilled from earlier.

"Ok Blue Team," he said, "Let's suit up and head out."

Nate didn't say much to either of Hank or Scott as they told him where they wanted him, then tried to once again give him another warning about doing only what they wanted. To be frank, he was getting a little sick of it. Yes, he hadn't earned anything even remotely resembling trust, but if every single x-man wanted to come along and tell him to watch his step, then could they all just write it down on notes and he'd get to them eventually. Of course, none of this showed on his face.

What he did do was nod to Scott, without responding to yet another order to watch his step. He also reached out towards Hank with his mind, *Ok, I can set up mind links with anyone who is willing. Alternatively, I can just broadcast at them and read their surface thoughts. I'll have to act as a relay anyway.*

Nate thought for a moment, "You know, I never actually saw inside the club before it exploded, I was still just trying to work out why Jenny's teleporting was causing ripples in the astral plane. I can do some psychometry though, try to pull the images of what happened out of the remnants."

Nate was speaking fairly calmly, though underneath the calm facade, he was still struggling to control the emotions that came with talking about the bombing. The bombing he had failed to stop a few months ago was still fresh in his mind, as well as the damage done to his friends lives. It was all still very painful for him, and having to relive it again with this new bombing wasn't helping much. Of course, only a telepath or an empath would really be able to pick up on his emotions.

Gambit nodded and gave a half salute as his team leader gave out orders.

"t'worry, Mon ami. Gambit know just de' spot to start. But, will we be traveling together or should we make our way d'ere separately?"

Cyclops thought for a moment, "Gambit you'll make your own way there, that way you can blend in on your own, and be seen as seperate to the rest of us."

"The rest of us will travel in the van." he added.

He looked towards Jean for a second, "Jean will be on stand by here, in case any of us are needed. Be back in the garage in 10, people."

Jean studied her "son's" face as she stood up. Since his arrival at the mansion he had been the target of questions and examinations with not a moment to himself. Obviously this wasn't entirely the fault of the X-Men, Nate's arrival was obviously going to cause people to react the way they did, but most of them had had a few moments to themself, even if they weren't restful. But Nate, he had gone from the cross examination in the lounge to and in depth conversation with the Professor, then to the "gentle" hands of Logan, and finally he was being sent out into the field.

*Hey,* she thought to him gently, *When you get back, if there's chance, coffee and a walk?*

It was just a suggestion, one that could be put aside to another time if it ended up being too late in the day and all people wanted was sleep, but it was made anyway.

Nate smiled once at Jean, pathing a quick response, *That would be nice* before following the blue team out to the van.