Only half a minute had passed since the last time he had done so, but it helped disguise his nerves.

Suddenly a chorus of wolf whistles sounded and he turned, coming down the stairs were Monet, Tabitha, Xi'an and Allison.

"Looking good Mr W." Tabitha called out smiling.

"Yeah yeah." he replied, as they headed out the front door, no doubt going out somewhere in Salems Center. "Be careful girls." he added, then turned back to the mirror.

As he did so he caught a glimpse of something simply stunning. He whirled round and supressed his own urge to whistle as Betsy headed down the stairs. She looked fantastic.

He couldn't help but smile, so far unable to say anything else. Eventually he realised, once she reached the bottom of the stairs that he'd done nothing but stare.

"Uh, hi." he said finally, his smile still stuck to his face.

Mentally, Betsy ticked off objectives 1 + 4. Warren's face made it entirely clear that she looked as good as she'd been hoping for.

"Hi" she beamed back. Twirling round to show the full effect, she then paused for his assessment "Good enough?"

"Breathtaking." he said outloud, before he could stop himself. He kissed her, just once, but it summed up his opinions on her appearence very well.

Pulling back he said, "Right, now I had start mentally traning myself to ignore you, so we ca go jump into the frying pan." he said with a grin.

He was only half-serious, she was very distracting, but there was a job to be done, and Warren could be counted on to do it.

"Let's go." he said an extended his arm to her.

Returning his grin, Betsy took his arm. "Likewise, incidentally" she added..."nice suit."

She meant every word - he did look distinctly gorgeous in the Armani suit...

A shame there was a whole responsibility element to the evening really.

"Thanks." he replied.

As they headed outside, she added "Warren, we need to talk out our plan. All I've got so far is keeping up a scan of the people around us...although I'm tempted to quietly depress the anti-mutant protestors enough that they give up and go home..."

She wasn't sure if he'd think she was joking when she said that. To be honest, she wasn't sure herself.

"Uh, I would leave the crowd to the police, unless it gets out of hand. I mean it's an NYPD Ball, we're guests, the NYPD security will be pretty high."

"I know." There were a few seconds of silence before she added "If we need to...if it does happen to start going horribly wrong...do you mind if I talk to you...not out loud?" She tapped the side of her head, to indicate what she was talking about.

"Of course not." he said, "In fact it'd be best not to, I'm fine with it, after all I've known Red most of my life."

He knew that telepathy was often an easier way to communicate when out on missions, and also knew that Betsy would be decent enough to only 'listen' to the thoughts she needed to.

This agreed, the two headed over to the garage, Warren pulled his keys out of his pocket and pushed the button to unlock his Vanquish.

Getting in, Betsy wriggled herself into a comfortable position.

Prodding herself in the ear ensured that her earpiece was in fact where she'd put it.

With both doors shut, and finally no students - or indeed X-Men - listening, she looked over at Warren. "Is there anything you're worried about? For example, walking through a crowd of anti-mutant protestors who are going to home in on..." There was a very very slight pause before she added "...us."

He looked back to her for a moment, before turning the key in the ignition.

"Not really." he said, "I expect I should be, but I'm not. Yes, I'm a mutant, but a lot of people also knew me as a Defender, a hero. As an X-Man I'm still one, despite them not knowing it."

He moved the car down through the large garage, it's doors opening automatically allowing them to head out down the drive that lead to Greymalkin Lane.

"People are frightened of us because we're different, some of them lash out because of their ignorance and fear... but," he continued, "If they were going to lash out, even the most idiotic of them probably wouldn't do it at a Police Ball."

That wasn't exactly what she meant, but Betsy let it lie. Either Warren wasn't in the slightest bit sensitive about any abuse that might get thrown at him, or he didn't want to admit it. Either way she wasn't going to push. For her own part - she wasn't bothered, mostly because she didn't care what others would say. The only thing she wasn't necessarily looking forward to was the passive scan element of the evening. Constant voices inside your head as well as echoing around the real world could get very wearing.

She wondered whether it was necessary to scan the protestors outside, then decided that it was. She was going to do this properly. That said, best to start getting back in the habit now.

Leaning back against the seat, she relaxed her mental barriers slightly and started to 'listen' to the thoughts of those in the cars they were passing. The contacts were brief enough that they weren't troublesome, but meant that she wouldn't end up with a raging headache from first lowering her mental barriers around a group of highly emotionally charged people.

As she listened, she almost unconsciously began to move into X-man mode, thinking of herself not primarily as Betsy, but more as Psylocke. The part of Betsy that remained sighed in regret for the date that could have been. The rest - knew that Warren was there too and was glad for it.

However it was also now revved up to go, to find out what was going to happen and to deal with it.

Bobby "heard" the Professor's words and eased the turbo back to normal running speed. The GPS system kicked in on his windscreen HUD and the computer plotted the fastest route to Peter's. Directional markers showed that he need to do a u-turn and go back down the interstate towards New york central. Bobby's eyes glistened as he noticed that there were currently no other cars on the stretch of road, so up came the handbrake and hard over went the steering wheel. A lot of Screetching and rubber later the Viper sped in the right direction.

Checking the onboard inventory, he pulled a comlink from the storage bin in the dash and some tinted shades (built into which was an uplink to the nearest x-man vehicles computer). Luckily having been in Mr.Drake mode he had already been wearing a suit for seeing Jen's parents and would have little problem incorporating a few useful elements into his "press kit" for the interviews. Man, how long had it been since they had last seen Peter? As X-factor they had bumped into him a fair few times and he had been chasing that Mary Jane broad. Wonder if he had tagged that one recently.

He felt the accelerator ease up as he roused from his reflections, the computer in its logic had detected the traffic jam ahead and taken the appropriate action. It looked like he would get to Peter's eventually.............Stupid rush hour.

It hit him then a thought of utter importance it broke through all other things,

"Ah man! My hot dog! Sports illustrated Swimsuit reviews on as well! Can't a mutant get a break!"

Eventually the traffic cleared and the Viper pulled up outside Peter's. Bobby got out straightened his suit and walked up to Peter's door.

"Yo, Parker! Come see an old friend and bring a hot dog!"

Peter Parker's apartment was on the fourth floor of the old building, which wasn't anywhere near as grand as Charles Xavier's mansion. As Spider-Man he was a solitary hero, with not much in the way of private funding, and as Peter Parker his wages at the Bugle weren't getting any better.

But as long as J. Jonah Jameson needed his hatred for Spider-Man fueled then Peter would be in a job.

Currently though he was in a rush, his apartment was in a mess, he just burnt the bread he had in his toaster, and he needed to button his shirt and find his tie.

At that point though the buzzer on his intercom sounded, and a familiar voice came from the speaker, "Yo, Parker! Come see an old friend and bring a hot dog!"

"Bobby." he said to himself, half sighing, half smiling.

He went to the speaker and pushed the button opening the main door, "Come on up frosty, door's off the latch."

He then unlocked his main door, and resumed his search for his tie.

The main door swung open as the magnetic latch was released. Peter had his own place and it was something that Bobby had wondered about for some time. He liked the mansion but there were times when it felt too crowded. Who was he kidding, without the others who would make him smile. Anyway there was that time he had iced up the female toilet area in their dorm, just as a desperate Tabitha had needed to go.... the result well had been explosive.

As he entered Peter's apartment, Bobby recognised the usual signs of a single bloke's abode. Clothes were scattered about and there were a few pizza boxes thrown randomly about. If he tried the pizza box thing at the mansion, well Jean would kill him and then Hank would give him a lecture about Hygiene. Envious maybe, but with Shi'ar cleaning fairies Bobby wasn't that bothered.

"Hey Pete, Where's your better half or are you still chasing her? Get a move on will you bud we ain't web swinging tonight and the Prof let me out in the Viper. You don't call, you don't write, what ever is an ice cube to do?"

Bobby tripped over something then, it was a side table that Peter had left his tie and camera on. He liked Spidey, but there were times when the Peter just got enthused by something and forgot the world around him. Much like calling Bobby or the latest date with Mary Jane, now that Felica Hardy, if Petie wasn't interested Bobby sure was.

"Peter, found your tie and camera. Now want me to tie your shoes for you too? Don't forget your hankie young man!" Bobby called out in his best impression of Peter's Aunt May. If there was one girl in the world that Bobby didn't want anything bad to happen to it was May Parker. In the brief time he had stayed with Peter, May had been a surrogate mum to him and he always tried to send her a letter now and then to say how he was. Well that and to ensure Peter got calls asking when "that nice boy, Bobby" was gong to visit.

Peter stumbled out of his bedroom door back into the main part of his apartment, "Hey Bobby." he came over and greeted his friend, "Thanks for finding the tie, I was going spare looking for it."

He slung it round his neck and then stopped, realising what Bobby was wearing. "Err Bobby, we're going to a ball, albeit we'll stuck to one side with the Press Pack, but we still need to dress to fit. That suit might be ok for a Math teacher but.. I've got another shirt you can wear, and I do have another tie somewhere."

He gestured towards his room, "Go look bub, I need to sort some more stuff."

"So what your saying is my best suit's not good enough, cheers bro. Yeah ok I'll go scrounge a tie and shirt."

Bobby recovered a tie from Peter's room and tried not to tred on Pete's latest project. The boy need out more and not in the wall crawling way. He picked up his press pass from the table it had been dropped on and prepared himself for his latest role. Taking one last look in the mirror to check his tie was straight. Ah, perfection!

Peter finished doing his tie, and set about digging out his surply of Daily Bugle Press passes, finding the one that had been altered with Bobby's picture and the fake name of Drake Roberts on it.

The Paper didn't check on it's freelancers, but always grumble whent hey came to pick up their cheques. If "Drake Roberts" didn't turn up then they didn't much care. Peter had already made calls and had the name added to the Press Guest list.

"It's probably going to be a boring night if it's all a panic over nothing." Peter called out towards his room, "I'll take photos, and you'll listen for notable quotes etc."

He exited the room and walked up to Peter and ushered him to the door. Ensuring that Peter had picked up a couple of vials of web fluid on the way. There was some complaining but Bobby wasn't listening he just wanted to get to the Viper and to the musuem in plenty of time.

"I'll be in the car, waiting"

Bobby headed out to the viper and slid into the driver's seat. Entering the access code he pulled a second comlink from the dashboard in preparation. He tapped the side of his glasses and the vipers computer overlaid a route plan to the Guggenheim and the closest car park. Pressing the stud on the glasses in a different direction a comlink opened up to the mansion.

"Bobby to mansion, Peter and I are setting off to the musuem to get through Press clearance soon eta 20 minutes. See you all inside. Bobby out."

As the comm line broke, Bobby wondered exactly how long did it take a wall crawler to lock a door.

A few moments later the passenger door opened and Peter climbed in. Before Bobby drove off though he turned to his old friend and said, "Look Bobby, I know this is a mission for you guys n all, but it's also work. Jonah will be not be happy if I turn up tomorrow with nothing."

He knew Bobby would be a complete pro once there, but quite typically when he wasn't shooting 'Spider-Man' something always interrupted any other shoots he did.

He slung his bag on to the back seat, "Right, let's roll pal. We have to get there before the guests start arriving, which I reckon we can do in this baby."

He paused, "When'd it get so foggy?"

Storm met her team in the garage and they piled into one of the professors many expensive cars. The weather witch had given her silent approval of Scott's plans and had equipped herself and her team with the communication devices before herself, Bishop, Colossus, and Nightcrawler met to leave.

"I assume we are all prepared to go?" Storm asked. "Very well. Bishop, if you wouldn't mind?" Storm asked the mutant from the future to drive, as she rode in the passenger seat. Her eyes were just slightly translucent, she was in low stage of power activation.

As the tream arrived near central park Bishop pulled into a spot and the vehicles Shi'ar technology fabricated a parking permit so that they would not get towed. True to her word, there was a very thick fog hanging over Central Park.

Storm pointed towards the roof of the Guggenheim. "That is where I want you Nightcrawler." She was careful to use code names while on a mission. With Colossus and Bishop she made her way to a point where they could be contacted, and just barely see the Guggenheim through the heavy fog.

Jean was back at home, near the aircraft and ready to come in if anyone thing went wrong. Iceman would be showing up with Peter Parker in a seperate vehicle, as would Psylocke and Archangel.

"Well my friends." Storm said to Bishop and Colossus. "Now we wait."

Kurt had made himself familiar with the plans, he was confident of his ability to teleport into the bulk of the museum, due to not knowing the insides beyond the layouts. That said the roof of the rotunda was glass and he'd be able to see below well enough.

"Well meine freunde, I will bid you a guten abend." he said tot hem all before saying to Storm.

"I will contact you once I am in position."

That said he stood facing the direction of the museum, outlined just in the fog, before BAMFing away, leaving behind some darker smoke to mix with the fog Storm had brought.

Once on the roof a slight disappointment filled the Bavarian, "Ach." he said to himself, "No gargoyles. Ah well."

He was alone on the roof but there were a number of shadowy places he would be able to blend into. In fact most of the roof was dark what with the fog, except of course the light that was escaping the glass roof of the rotunda.

He picked his way quietly across to the edge of the glass and crouched down so that he could look below.

The place was active already but the doors were not open yet. He kipped up and then walked around the perimeter of the glass taking in the view below from all angles. He nodded to himself when he was satisfied then took a seat, leaning up against one of the walls of the roof access.

"Nightcrawler to Storm." he finally said, "I am in position. All is clear."

Hank chuckled as Scott finished. It was amazing how long familiarity could bring two people's plans into one. Of course, Hank suspected Charles had fed Scott a line on what Hank had been saying. Still, it was good to know that he and Scott could maintain an accord on these things.

"Very well, Scott, Blue Crew. The van awaits!" Hank led the the way, keeping his pace to what the others could handle, and waited for them when they reached the elevator. Scott was last in, doubtless having taken time to watch the others as they moved. Scott would have catalogued any odd limps, by now, if Hank knew him.

As the elevator doors closed, Scott cleared his throat. "Okay. I'm driving. Hank, you take the front passenger seat, but turn it around and tell the team the changes you made in the van. Also, go over what you know about the Club. Perhaps you can link with Nate to give him a better idea of what you are planning to do as a 'lead investigator'. Logan, you know the scoop on ID forgeries. Can you get on the comm with Kitty, get her to check tht everybody IS on our communication gear, and then, when she had faked up some nice ID, print it out? Rogue, Remy, pay attention to Hank. Rogue, you might end up monitoring the equipment here with me. As for you, Nate, welcome to the Blue Team. Listen to me, then Hank, and then anybody else. Don't make independent decisions unless Hank or I release you to do so. I want this all to stay together."

They were on the main floor. Scott stepped out and turned to them. "Civilian professional dress for everybody except Remy. He wouldn't look quite right trying to look like a regular Joe. Uh, Rogue, you could just get into a jump suit, and we can explain that you are our investigative unit techie... but don't try to prove that to anybody. So, eveybody get your civvies and meet us at the van."

Hank added, "At the main entrance. I'll be there, waiting."

Nate listened as Scott meandered on, repeating himself over and over again. Nate, follow Hank, Nate, I'm the boss, Nate don't even wipe your butt without me or Hank to tell you how. Dear god, the man might have been the leader of a super hero team, but he was beginning to sound like a nazi. No independant decision making, yeah, right. Basic rule of the field, no plan survives first contact with the enemy. If push came to shove, Nate wasn't planning on not doing anything until he could check with Scott for permission. He'd act, follow his instincts and deal with the consequences afterwards.

Despite what Scott might think, he did know how to work with the x- men, even if they didn't think they knew how to work with him. If Scott wanted a robot, he'd come to the wrong son. Nate was all happy taking guidance from Hank, since this was Hanks investigation, and in the field, he'd take guidance from Scott, Ororo or in fact any of the others should they have a workable plan, but he'd be damned if he would wait on Scott for permission to do something in the middle of a scrap. Before a scrap was fair enough, during. Fat chance! If every soldier was expected to do nothing unless specifically ordered to do so, then a lot of wars would have dragged on for a lot longer. Nate wasn't some automaton, he'd stick to the spirit of any instructions, if not the letter.

"So will I. Nate, you don't have civilian clothing here yet. So, come with us, and show us what you can do to 'pass' as normal without." Scott started toward the van, assuming everybody would be moving quickly to get ready.

Nate raised an eyebrow. Sometimes Scott really was totally dense. He knew what Jean could do in regards to changing her clothing. Tweaking the atoms around to change the nature of the clothing. Nate had as much said he could do the same.

Once at the van, Scott turned to Hank. "This mission could compromise the integrity of your association with the Avengers, Hank, if things go poorly. Are you sure you want to risk that?"

Hank shrugged. "I think, Scott, that is a small risk to take. And frankly, I lost a friend in the explosion. I feel I owe her, and others, my best efforts in determining who did this thing. The only thing that will ruin that relationship with the Avengers is going to be if somebody on OUR team screws up. I suppose if things go badly, I can end up pilloried in the press. But I'll live with that."

the man with the red visor nodded. "Nate, please stick with Hank, and follow his lead. I think scanning everybody on site for their information is a good idea. I know Hank doesn't mind a deep enough link for that, so make sure he gets every important datum. And Hank, same goes for you. If one of you has the complete on-site data in your head, I count this a successful mission. Now, Nate, want to show us what you can do to 'pass'?"

Nate raised an eyebrow, "Take your pick. You want clubbing clothes?" Nate's normal outfit changed to a tight fitting pair of black leather trousers and a skin tight sleeveless top, "Or something a little more formal?" A tux was the next ensemble. "How bout something plain and civilian like," Nate switched to a pair of loose trousers and dark shirt.

"Tell you what, i'll go for something a little more suitable for an investigation." Nate's outfit changed to a very smart looking business suit, the type the FBI wear on all of the TV shows.

Nate finally connected the link between him and Hank, pathing across the wry comment, *Is he planning on telling me what not to do again, or do you think he will leave it at just three times?*

"Good enough." Scott replied, not wanting to rise to the fact that Nate was deliberately being difficult. "Ah, here come the rest of the team." Scott climbed into the drivers' seat, started the van. Like many of the vehicles here, the thing had been rebuilt, variously by those more mechanically inclined X-Men, to something approaching a Shi'ar-tech-equipped standard. Hank himself had placed special power arrangements in each vehicle, and Scott had rebuilt all the dashboards and hidden secondary controls.

"Okay, we're go on go status." Hank thought Scott needed a bit of instruction in how to speak normally, but refrained from providing it himself, for obvious reasons. Still, he was always clear. "Hank, get them involved in those monitor stations, please. Logan, can help Kitty come up with computer records to backstop our status as a young group of investigators in training under the infamous Doctor McCoy?"

Hank turned his seat around, and touched a panel, which released a heavy duty computer console from the floor. He had several emails to write while he coached the others. As he slipped off his shoes, and settled in. "ETA about fifty percent longer than it would be if Logan was driving."

"Very funny, Hank." But Scott was grinning, as he waited for the others to sling their seats and strap in.