Evolution by BJ Jones

Stage Five – Intelligent Design

~ Xavier's School for the Gifted ~


Nicolaus stood at the foot of the front steps that led upward to the school's main entrance, and he seriously wondered, not for the first time that day, whether what he was feeling might be akin to how Albus had gone through whilst awaiting the many Clan Leaders who flew in to Geneva, that they might free him from his confinement in Egypt.

Anticipation melded with a strange fear of the unknown, yet seemed bolstered by utter and unending determination.

Though no Clan Leader was on that occasion to be found in grave danger, in some ways the moment seemed far worse, for it threatened to expose and entire community, that might subsequently be destroyed should Frankenstein succeed in his plans.

Hearing the door open, Nico turned back and saw Jimmy and Noah flanking the top of the steps, watching over him, as they had since he rebirth into the world at Hamunaptra.

He had seen fit to actually ask Jimmy late one night, why he should take it so very seriously to guard him, and the entire conversation left him utterly convinced that if he weren't a Clan Leader, Jimmy would gladly have punched him the face for being an idiot.


~ Flashback – Nico's Office ~


"It wasn't your fault," he said firmly, moving out from behind his desk and to stand directly in front of the Hunter, so there should be nothing between them.

"It was my job to protect you," Jimmy pointed out, for what sounded like the millionth time. "I failed at that."

"You couldn't be at all my crime scenes." He made sure he held his friend's unwavering gaze, with one of his own. "I've been told enough times, that I can't save the world. And neither can you."

"I'm not saving the world." Jimmy gave him a small smile. "Just you."

Nico was amazed at the loyalty Hickok had shown him, especially since he was Timothy's Childe, and his Soul was more connected to his kid's life in Ireland than anything else.

"You've trusted me to take care of situations and people that you care about. A lot. I get it. I feel now that…" Jimmy slipped off his hat and ran his hand through his hair, clearly hunting for the right way to express himself.

"I trust you." Nico reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "It wasn't your fault. I was betrayed from within Sylum."

Jimmy's eyes narrowed. He understood that for his Clan Leader to have admitted such, meant he trusted him still. "Who the fuck do I need to kill?" he growled.

No one betrayed family.

Ever.

"I'm dealing with it. Just accept the fact that there was nothing you could have done to stop what happened." Nicolaus sighed. "I've trusted with you things that are more precious to me than my own life."

Jimmy nodded. "I know that."

"I'm now entrusting you my own life. Formally. Right now."

Jimmy nodded again as he slipped his hat back on. "I'm still not sure if I'm worthy of it, but I will die protecting it," he said quietly.

"Oh, no! I expect you to live," Nicolaus replied, wondering why he hadn't realized a long time ago, how much Jimmy meant to him. "Or I'll be coming back to haunt your ass, once Lady Heather's finished reaming it."

To his very great credit, Jimmy blushed as he left, turning away to try and hide the flush on his face, but Nico saw it.

And he fully accepted Van Helsing's assessment, that Hickok would indeed make a fine Lead Hunter.

***


"Should I start fixing cookies?" Warrick asked with all seriousness, as he strode down from the school to stand next to his Mate. "I'm sure Minerva could send some recipes."

"Y'know, you never told me what it was like." Nico looked up at him, blinking.

Dilios had set him a small, leather bound book not so long ago, that had become one of his most prized possessions. It held the all the quiet archivist's thoughts and observations on what had happened that day. He had called it 'The Grandest Moment in Vampire History' to have witnessed how the noblest, strongest, and most devious figures from history had sat together around a conference table discussing one thing, and one thing only.

His salvation.

No matter the cost.

And it was a humbling concept for Nicolaus to accept.

To finally realize how everyone had gathered to save him, because they loved him.

When he had never thought of himself as someone special, how could he ever had deserved such devotion? Such respect?

He was but a dedicated Roman General, who lived for his family, and loved them all without counting the cost.

He would never have asked any of them to go to war. How could he have demanded such a thing? And yet…

…he had commanded it, from there, in the darkness of an ancient Sarcophagus.

Because they loved him.

"It was breathtaking." Warrick reached over and cupped his Mate's cheek tenderly. "Seeing the power of the Vampire Community come together, was inspiring." He paused as an SUV pulled into the driveway. "In the next few moments, you'll see what others are willing to do when you ask them. And you will understand it all."

"I didn't ask them," he whispered, his eyes full of love for his Pirate.

"And that is why they will follow you," Warrick whispered, leaning in to kiss him deeply, "wherever you ask them to go."

"How very publicly affectionate."

Nicolaus barely suppressed a knowing grimace as he turned to Lucien La Croix. "Strange, isn't it, how I've seen more of you in the past few years then I had for centuries before? Think there's a way to arrange that again? It was actually nice."

"Hmmm, yes I did prefer it when you were quaking in fear at the mere mention of my name," Lucien drawled, staring over Nico's shoulder at the impressive school buildings behind them. "Professor Xavier has done a fairly decent job with all our money then, it seems."

"I'll make sure to let him know you approve." Nico rolled his eyes at his fellow Clan Leader. He would be the first to admit that he still didn't get along with La Croix, but even loathing could morph into disgruntled, and somewhat begrudging respect. "By the way, I've never quaked in fear at the mere mention of your name. Shook with laughter maybe…"

"Why does this seem so familiar?" Claudio stepped from the car and moved toward them, tapping his chin with an elegant forefinger, upon which a large piece of gaudy jewelry shone brightly in the sunshine, even as the lace from his cuffs spread a smattering of elaborate shadow down the sleeve of his velvet jacket.

"You do realize it's the Twenty-first Century, right?" Warrick shook his head staring agog at Claudio's outfit. "Velvet and frills went out a few centuries ago."

"Proper attire and accessories absolutely never go out of fashion!" Claudio exclaimed. "Besides, if that hideous Pirate person can get away with wearing the God awful mishmash of scarves, leathers and linens he prances about in, I at least can pull off a well-tailored suit."

"A pink suit, from the Seventeenth century," Warrick pointed out dryly.

"Cerise! You heathen! It's cerise!"

Claudio's face turned the self-same color.

"Besides insulting my wardrobe, is there any particular reason for us to be standing out in the driveway like the help?" He flicked a wide lace handkerchief from his other cuff, and wiped his brow.

Nicolaus just shook his head and looked over at Lucien, who was smiling fondly at his Mate.

In such moments, he could actually, shockingly, see a human being under the annoying Vampire. "You are the first to arrive. I hear there are cookies."

"Minerva's?" Claudio was suddenly much more interested in the school.

"No!" Charles called out, as he maneuvered his chair onto the terrace rather than come all the way down to the drive. "But I can state with absolute certainty that Mrs. Fredericks' offerings are just as good."

"Professor!" Knight's Clan Leader bowed his head slightly in respect.

"I regret it has taken such a situation for you to bring your Mate by to see me, Lucien." Charles eyed at the Mated pair, feeling their walls slam into his own mind. "Welcome!"

Claudio gave an exaggerated bow, hiding his nervousness at being around a man who could read his mind. "We are Knight Clan, at your service." His Mate had always spoken of the man in the wheelchair with a certain degree of badly feigned anxiety for the sake of his own personal secrets, and he could sense it again through the Bond.

Charles also bowed his head, smiling at both of them broadly. "If we ever have a need for lessons on underhand dealings and general shiftiness, we'll make sure to call."

Nico chuckled loudly, then tried to curtail it as he was glared at Lucien and Charles simultaneously. "If it means anything, La Croix, I do want to personally thank you for coming."

"I'm simply here to make sure that idiot Childe of Timothy's doesn't end up as President. Invading Canada!" He scoffed. "How can anyone take that seriously?" La Croix turned to the SUV as those who had accompanied them, also scooted out. "We brought Billy and Garrett since they've been working with your Hunters through this unsavory business."

"Wild Bill!" Billy waved up at Nico's bodyguard.

"No you can't shoot him," Charles growled, sotto voice over his shoulder.

Jimmy looked down at Charles with a longing grin on his face. "One day…?"

"One day you can shoot him," Charles said reassuringly. "A staff member will show you to your rooms. There will be a meeting later this evening after Josiah show's up."

"Maybe he'll just shoot you?" Jimmy smirked at Billy as he passed by, ushering Knight Clan's Leaders through the door and into the cool interior of the old building.

"Aw! C'me on! You know you love me!" Billy bounded over and hugged the gunfighter.

For his part, Hickok just stood there, arms crossed over his chest as Billy embraced him. "Get it off me!" he snarled.

Noah did what any good Mate would do.

He took a picture.

He didn't even glance at the other Hunter as he emailed the photo. "Billy! Off my Mate, before I kill you."

Garrett did the honors, grabbing Billy and dragging him into the house. "I blame the M&Ms he's been mainlining since we left New Jersey," he muttered.

The door closed behind them, but they could still hear someone yelling at Billy for touching something he wasn't supposed to.

The tension in the air was suddenly greatly reduced.

William H. Bonney was a hell of a lot smarter than most people gave him credit for being, and Charles had already figured to have a good long talk him once things calmed down. He had read much of the history of so famed an outlaw, but quickly realized he didn't know much about either the Vampire or his Mate.

Jimmy grumbled as he brushed his suit down. "It's like dealing with Cody."

"Just shorter and a lot more hyper." Noah slipped his phone back into his pocket. "I'll clean you later."

"I'm holding you to that," Jimmy smirked. "And who the hell did you email that photo to?"

"Just a few friends…"

"Ahh! Jimmy! I see you made a new bestest buddy!" Tony snickered and grinned as walked out onto the terrace, holding up his phone to show the Hunter.

"Now, him you can shoot!" Warrick cried.

Tony flipped off his Mother, then glanced at Charles, who just gave him a slightly reproving look. Silently, and suitably chastised, he bowed his head and moved down the steps instead, ducking just in time to miss being smacked by Warrick, only to get a headslap from Nicolaus.

"Is it always like this?" Scott asked, standing behind the Professor protectively. Having slipped through the terrace door at the sounds of commotion, he was surprised at the relative normality he actually found.

"Yes," Jimmy answered, trying to keep a straight face.

"It's weird." He watched for a moment as Tony and Warrick bantered back and forth. "It's so much like family."

"We also eat at the breakfast table, and fight over the last of the milk." Hickok glanced over at him. "Kinda like how your kids here still tease, pull on pigtails, and talk about the cutest date in class."

Scott chuckled, but he saw Jimmy's point, and with a quick nod he headed back to the Communications Room. Upgrades to some of their technology had been scheduled for that morning, following long conversations he's shared with Sylum's Hunters. The school had been altogether too tardy in keeping pace with certain digital developments, and that would simply never do, not when the Professor was already planning ahead so very far into their future.

Nico glanced up, happy to see Scott and Jimmy working together, building a mutual friendship.

With everything else that was going on, Mutants and Vampires needed to work together, and do it a damn sight more often.

"Is Speed still being held hostage by Jean?" Warrick asked, glancing over at Tony as the next SUV pulled in.

"Totally." Tony grinned back at him. "Jethro's with Horatio. They're talking security. They've tapped into the school's systems here, and they're hooking it all up with Artemus back at the Manor."

"Scott isn't throwing a fit?"

"Oh, he threw one! But once he saw some of our stuff, he demanded to know more, and I got bored listening to him and Artemus geek out over surveillance equipment. So I wandered out, toured the school and the outer grounds and poked about for a while. Y'know, there's a hell of a lot of wilderness that could be used against us out there."

"Jimmy's been working on making the perimeters more secure," Nico informed him, overhearing what they said. "I'll make sure he updates you on their new schematics."

Tony nodded as he moved out of his Papa's way and leaned against the cool marble baluster, to watch the proceedings.

He too had already drawn the similarities between what was happening right there at that moment, and what had occurred in Geneva when everyone gathered at Imenand's bidding two years before. Even as he watched Benton walk forward with Ray and Seeley Booth, Tony could easily imagine seeing all those Clan Leaders talking softly with the Vampire Council, determined to get the job done.

He swallowed.

Some memories were suddenly more powerful than others, or so it seemed.

For when he had lain dying, in a dusty Jerusalem alley, convinced that his life had been a struggle for good, no matter how bad the end, he had blinked up into Nico's strong yet loving eyes, and known that his destiny lay at the side of such a man.

Antonio knew it was his place, and he was content with that.

He had learned a lot about the many and varied things that Nicolaus did for the Sylum Clan, as well as the daily decisions he'd been forced to make over the years in keeping secrets, telling truths and hiding lies. He didn't think he could run the Clan as well as his Papa ever did, but he could run it nonetheless.

It just wouldn't be the same.

'It's not supposed to be.'

Crisafi shook his head and glanced around in surprise, catching Charles staring at him.

'You were projecting.'

Tony glared at his Sire.

Nico looked over at him, a questioning expression on his face.

Tony nodded in a not very subtle shrug, at Charles.

Nico glanced up at his Father, then back at his Childe. "Remember when I said you can't hide anything?"

Tony's eyebrows rose.

"Besides," Nico chortled, "even I could hear you, Antonio."

"And what was I thinking?" He crosses his arms defensively and stared at Charles, his eyes narrowing.

"No one expects you to run the Clan as I would. You are your own person." Nico smiled at him generously. "You have your own style and way of doing things. And that is as it should be."

"So is the telepathic thing a family trait?" Tony snorted.

"I just know you, my Elena," Nicolaus assured him. "Never doubt that, Tony. I didn't put anyone into their position in the Clan just because they're my family."

Tony shook his head. "You're confusing my ego there, Pops. Hey, Benton!"

Nico turned to welcome Tallikut's Clan Leader. "I'm glad you could make it."

"You called, so here I am." Benton looked up at Charles, giving him a quick wave. "Professor Xavier! Tallikut Clan stands at your service."

"Thank you kindly. It's been too long since last we talked, Benoit." Charles beamed over at the wiry young man beside the Mountie. "And you would be Stanley."

"Ray," he coughed. "I prefer Ray. Kowalski. I'm Ray Kowalski." He waved. Benton had told him what was going on, briefing him on it all as Booth drove them to the school. He was surprised, naturally, but what horrified him more was in discovering that the Republican idiot standing for the Presidency, actually appeared to be telling the truth about Mutants. "It's cool what you're doing here. I mean I got picked on as a kid for my glasses, so I can't imagine what these kids have gone through. It's a cause worth fighting for. I'm still learning but I'm good in a scrape."

Charles felt Ray's sincerity, radiating from him like a beacon on a dark sea. "I appreciate that. Very much. As do my students. I'm confident they would like to meet you."

"Thank you, sir." Ray glanced at Benton who was smiling at him a little stupidly.

But he knew he'd said the right thing.

Since Egypt he had been learning more, adapting fast to his role in the Clan. He had even hounded Ellison, demanding he teach him about the Clans themselves, the Vampire community, the Council, anything and everything. He knew he'd need it all, sooner or later.

And strangely enough, it was actually sooner.

"Hickok!" Booth nodded at the gunfighter.

"Booth," Jimmy muttered, acknowledging him politely. "When you get them settled come find us. We'll update you on what's happening."

He nodded giving the two Clan Leaders a pointed glare. "Are you two going to be good and do what we say?"

"Nope," Tony answered from the sidelines, ignoring twin snorts he got from the Sylum and Tallikut.

"That's what I thought." Seeley shook his head, then motioned Benny and Ray upward to the door, making 'shoo' sounds. "What? I don't have all day."

Ray whispered to his Mate, "And why did we bring the bossy one?"

"Because Peter, Poe and Larkin are in New York. There's that situation going on, that we're not discussing. The one that deals with someone who got himself arrested to save his Mate," Booth muttered. "Can we get inside now?"

"Malcolm and Josiah on their way?" Benton asked Nico.

"It's a race to see who gets here first," he responded with a shrug. "Mal does have Wash flying him, so…"

"Josiah has his speed demon drivers." Benton rolled his eyes.

"Point taken." Nico frowned as spied another SUV pulling up. "And, it looks like Mal won."

"We'll talk when you schedule a briefing." Benton headed for the steps, stopping for a moment to give Mal a quick wave.

Serenity's Clan Leader grinned and gave him a swift salute. He slammed the car door shut with a hefty bang, and stalked up to Nicolaus, pulling him into his arms and giving him a quick hug.

Nico held him for a few moments then let go, stepping back.

"No kidnappings?" he asked.

Nico shook his head.

"Just Stillson trying to what…?" Mal waved his arms around, trying to find the right words.

"Rule the world?" Neville answered, walking straight over to Charles.

"I was going for something more…" Mal hesitated.

"He's got writer's block," Jayne grumbled.

"That explains it." Warrick eyed the SUV as Jack Carter stepped from the back door with Sam, the dog. "You left Dean behind?"

Jack rolled his eyes, but scooted around the vehicle to open the other door.

A Tomcat jumped out, and strutted up the stairs, leaping unbidden into the Professor's lap. It turned a few times, kneaded for a few moments, then promptly flopped down and went to sleep.

Charles stroked the cat's fur as he talked to Neville about Dr. Banner.

Sam easily made it up the stairs, sitting down next to her Master, waiting patiently. Her tongue flopped out, when Neville reached down and gave her a good scratch behind the ears.

"You brought the pets?" Tony looked over at Serenity's Clan Leader, a smirk curling his lips. "Really? They got luggage too?"

"Where Neville goes, Sam goes." Jayne shook his head sadly. "Getting the dog to settle down after Neville ran off to New Jersey was a goddamn nightmare."

"And where Sam goes…" Carter added to that particular line of thought, as he walked past them and up the steps, shifting two laptop bags on his shoulders as he leaned in to kiss his Mate on the temple.

Robert turned to look at him and smiled tiredly. "Sure."

"You need to rest. Thank you for having us here, Professor. Nico! You too!" he acknowledged. "But we need some sleep. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. We have rooms for you, and we can talk more later, Dr. Neville," Charles assured him. "Provided Jean doesn't snag your attention first."

Tony glanced back at Jayne. "It works the same with our Sam and Dean."

"Does your Dean flop onto people's laps and demanded petting?" he asked, with an utterly straight face. He hadn't met the Hunter from Sylum, though he had certainly heard about his talents from Selene, who'd witnessed him action before he'd been Turned.

"Only on Sam," Tony chuckled.

"Professor X!" Mal waved up at Charles. "Read any good minds lately?"

He looked down at Mal, maintaining the deadpan humor. "Not today."

Warrick thumped Mal on the shoulder. "Oooh! That hurt," he teased.

"I feel the love here, people." Mal ignored the snickering and headed up the stairs, giving a quick nod to Robert and Jack who were talking quietly with Jimmy, and not yet as asleep as they both wanted to be. "Charles? As you know, anything I can offer. We're here."

"Thank you, Malcolm." The Professor continued to pet the cat. "Have you thought about killing off Derek Storm?"

Mal paused, contemplating the possibilities.

He then reached over and snagged his laptop bag from Carter, who stumbled from the sudden lighter load, relieved of at least a part of his burden.

Mal then ran into the school, thrusting people out of his way. "Move aside! Move aside! I need space to work here!" he cried. "Creative stuff happening!"

"I'm not sure I should thank you, or hurt you," Jayne stated flatly, watching the manic flailing coming from his Mate. With a snort, he grabbed his cell phone, having already been expecting a certain call. "No, Simon. He hasn't killed anyone. Well, not yet. But it's still early." Jayne shook his head and moved into the school, following Castle as quick as he could.

What could he say? His Mate was hot when he got going in creative mode.

Neville followed him into the main building, Carter only a few steps behind.

Warrick watched them go, then turned to his own Mate. "So does this mean he's retiring? As a writer? No more Rick Castle?"

"More importantly," Tony asked urgently, pointing at the next SUV to come up the driveway. "Should we be hiding Dean from him?"

James Harrison stepped out of the vehicle and looked around. The school he found himself in front of, was like an old style mansion from a 1950's movie; one he would have never had thought he would get to see, let alone be invited to. Though it looked solid and expensive, and terribly pretentious, it felt strangely warm, and welcoming.

It was disconcerting.

But then, or so he reasoned, were Mutants.

And he was certainly not the type to judge.

Danny and Mac got out of the back seat.

James took a few steps toward Nicolaus, then paused.

His eyes focused in the striped ball of fluff that lay in the old man's lap.

The cat who had defiled his Mrs. Chippy.

Charles leaned down, scratched the cat's ears and whispered something to it surreptitiously.

The cat jumped up, saw Harrison, stilled for a moment, then leapt off the comfy lap he'd found, and ran into the school.

"What is that doing here?" Mrs. Chippy's aggrieved owner glanced around, demanding answers.

"Where Sam goes, Dean goes," Tony answered, biting back the laughter that was trying to escape.

"Speed is with Jean, discussing what happened. I'm sure he wouldn't mind being rescued," Nico suggested, looking over at Danny and James, hoping he wasn't about to witness feline-homicide.

The two men nodded then headed up the steps together, where James gave the older man in the wheelchair a smile. "I'm James Harrison. What did you say to that cat?"

Charles took his hand, sensing something that was slightly unusual, but no more so than anything else he'd ever found in his life. "I told him he should hide for a while. And he certainly seemed to agree."

James growled a little.

"My name is Charles Xavier. I run this school. And I am very glad to have you here. Please, be kind enough to come and see me later on. We should talk about your feline proclivities."

The normally unflappable Crab Fisherman flushed red in the face, then paused for a moment, and cocked his head, much like Dean had done a few moments before. "You… Wait. You can…? Oh, that's pretty cool, if you ask me. But I don't care if that Tom thinks my Mrs. Chippy is special. I'm still neutering him if I get my hands on him!" James gave him a nod and a wink.

"The library is clearly marked. I'll make sure Timothy shows it to you." Xavier positively grinned at his startled expression.

Harrison chuckled. "There's more here than meets the eye. I'm glad I came."

"We all have facades, but here, there are none." Charles nodded as he turned to Danny. "Welcome. Please, make yourself at home."

"Jimmy! " Mac walked up, having spent a moment with Nicolaus. He rested his hand against the small of his Mate's back. "Professor."

"Detective." Charles nodded. "Horatio is in the Security Room. Scott is roaming between here and there. If you can catch him, he'll show you where it is."

"How will I know him?" Mac asked curiously.

"Look for the dude wearing weird sunglasses inside," Jimmy informed him. "He's prickly, but really good at what he does."

"Our staff has setup space for everyone. I've made sure to have your rooms near Timothy and Horatio," Charles informed them, as they moved to the door.

In the meantime, another vehicle had arrived.

The occupants were talking quietly to Nicolaus and Warrick.

And Charles instantly found his focus centered on his son, who turned to him sharply and shook his head.

Taking the younger man's arm, Nicolaus escorted him personally to meet the Professor.

"Neal, this is Professor Charles Xavier. Charles this is Neal Caffrey, renowned Art Thief."

"Alleged!" Neal assured him, showcasing his charm as he took the outstretched hand that was offered in friendship. "It's an honor…"

The moment their eyes locked however, the façade Neal was wearing, simply dropped away, and for the first time in a long time, he wasn't the conman any more.

He was laid bare to the man before him.

Peter had chased Neal for four years, worked with him for one year, and had been dating him for the past six months. He knew exceptionally well the full power behind each of Neal's arsenal of smiles. The sly little boy. The debonair playboy. The soft sad smile when he remembered things he shouldn't. The tiny one he'd get when he knew he was doing the right thing. The grin when he was teasing.

It had only been in the most recent of times, that he'd seen the one he just witnessed.

The real smile.

The one that Neal only showed when his guard was completely down.

The one Peter and El had started to see, but only in private.

The rarest of them all.

He trotted up the steps, and held out his hand to the older gentleman.

Nico had mentioned that he was the man they were helping; a Professor who had dedicated his life to taking care of Mutant children whom nobody else wanted. He could admire that, and Peter had no doubt in his mind that El would love the Professor instantly.

"Peter Burke, this is Professor Charles Xavier…" Nicolaus began the introduction.

They shook hands, and it was then than he realized why Neal had dropped the facade.

Professor Xavier wasn't a man you could hide from.

"It's an honor, sir."

"After all this is over, bring your wife, and we can all have dinner," Charles said quietly.

Burke nodded, glancing over at Neal and Nico, trying to figure out what exactly was going on.

"I'll explain it later." Neal winked at him and gave an eyebrow quirking grin.

Peter recognized that one too.

It was the 'I can't handle this at the moment, but later I'll tell you what's really weirding me out' one.

Peter moved next to Neal, resting his hand softly on his lower back, feeling the tension drain out of him.

Charles motioned them to the door and the two men went on in, where other members of the faculty staff were waiting for them.

Nico glanced down at Charles, who had just given him a pointed look. "In time. Everything in time."

"I'll hold you to that, Nicolaus."

It was time.

He knew it.

Charles knew it.

It was just convincing everyone else.

John watched the brief exchange, and then glanced at Warrick, who just shrugged. "Sometimes you really don't want to know."

Shep glanced around seeing the warning in Tony's eyes. He knew when to ask things, and when to drop them and change the subject. "So is everyone here?"

"We're waiting on Josiah and Chavez," Tony answered quickly, noticing Warrick was more in tune to what was going on up on the terrace.

He had the feeling himself, that whatever it was, he had no clue about it and most likely wouldn't discover it for a long time to come. But he was getting more accustomed to that idea. And it wasn't like he didn't have a few secrets of his own.

Having spent the formative years of his life surrounded by men who'd stab you in the back as soon as ask you the time of day, Warrick had learned the hard way how to keep one ear and one eye on the conversations and movements happening around him, even as he watched his Mate talk with Charles for a few moments.

So very much had changed since Egypt, that it was hard to know exactly where to start.

But knew he was seeing once more, the General who had liberated him in Rome, and the man who stepped into his Smithy on a wet autumnal morning so long ago.

He also knew that there were things from the past were starting to come to light at last.

Perhaps they had been waiting patiently for such a moment to be made clear?

He could not say for certain, but he had learned early on in his relationship with Nicolaus, that such a man came fully loaded with a great deal of convoluted history. Some of it he had been made privy to as time went on, and he understood the burdens and privileges that came with such knowledge. But there was so much left to learn, from one who had lived a long life indeed, before ever he claimed his Pirate.

Nico strode back down the steps, and shook his head at Warrick's single, raised eyebrow. "He's got questions I'm not sure I'm ready to answer."

And to his very great credit, Warrick didn't speak or demand more of his Mate. Instead he pulled him in close and held him for a moment, soothing and comforting, and ever loving. For if there was one thing he learned from the nightmare of Egypt, it was that he should never miss an opportunity to hold his Mate, and be at his side.

"Ahhh! Look at that! You two are so beautiful."

Nicolaus pulled out of Warrick's arms, wondering how he'd failed to hear the last car arrive. "Brisco! Glad you could make it! Long time, no see!"

"Don't let me interrupt the smoochies here! I wanted you to know we've all made it." The Hunter acknowledged his Clan Leaders, who were still climbing out of the SUV. "This place got any good Mojitos? Grandpappy introduced me to them a few years back. Hard to find them that good since."

"It's a school," Chavez pointed out, giving him a slightly disturbed look.

"So's Harvard, and they have open bar policy," Brisco informed him primly, grinning right back.

"Speaking of Harvard, how's Harvey?" Nico chuckled at County's groan.

"Does he not get the point? I'm not a lawyer!" He rolled his eyes. "Hunter. Not lawyer. Hunter."

"Isn't it the same thing?" Josiah demanded, riling him up just a little bit more.

"No!" Brisco crossed his arms and sighed.

"Yet you keep up your Law Degree and Bar Exams." Chavez poked him gently.

"Y'know what? I'm going to go see Jimmy. He's nicer to me." Brisco turned smartly, hefted his belt a little, and walked up the steps, tipping his hat to Charles politely. He grinned at his Sire, who was also trying not to smirk. "I'm a Hunter, right?"

"When you take his cases and keep winning, it's not hard to see why Harvey keeps sending them to you." Jimmy gave him a stare. "It's like Hunting, but you do it with paperwork and charm."

"You know, I'm just leaving you all to Frankenstein and his minions. When you end up in jail, call me…" He rolled his eyes and was about to head for the door, when a beautiful black woman stepped through and nearly walked into him. "Ma'am!" He tipped his hat again.

"I thought everyone had arrived." She glanced past him to Charles. "Are there more?"

"Storm! These are the last," he answered, smiling appreciatively as she nodded. "Mr. Brisco County Junior, is another Hunter from The Border Clan."

He took off his hat, running a hand through his hair, struggling all the while not to blush as she looked him square in the face. "Brisco," he coughed. "You can, er… You can call me Brisco."

"Please, come in," she said quietly, shaking the hand he finally thought to offer. "My name is Storm. Welcome to our school."

"Thanks." He followed her inside. "Would you mind showing me around?"

"I was just going…"

"It's perfectly alright, Storm. He'll need to know where everything is." Charles gave her an encouraging nod, watching her carefully.

Jimmy's eyebrows shot up.

He glanced at his Mate. "No…"

Noah nodded. "Yes."

Warrick shook his head in amazement. "Definitely, yes."

Even Charles looked a little smug. "Yes, indeed."

"Speaking of, how is his Grandpappy these days?" Chavez asked. "Anybody know?"

"Annoyed. But he's happy he's got his Mate in full view," Nico informed him. "Just needs to do something about it."

"Sounds about right for Brisco's family," Josiah muttered. "So, Nicolaus? You want to explain what we're all doing here?" Josiah finally got to the million-dollar question.

"Stopping a war between Humans and Mutants," Charles answered, "before we lose everything."


***


With everyone getting settled, Nicolaus discovered the conference room empty.

Ray Kowalski was getting a personal tour of the school from Charles.

Brisco had yet to reappear with Storm.

Carter and Neville were finally asleep and snoring loudly. Or at least one of them was snoring. No one wanted to find out which and risk disturbing them.

Speed and Horatio were apparently a lost cause. Science having taken over all thought of everything else.

James Harrison was still threatening physical harm to Dean the Tomcat.

There were curious kids all over the place.

And anxious Hunters eager to do something useful.

Finally, all the Clan Leaders ended up converging in the kitchen.

It seemed War was to be planned over cookies.

For which Nicolaus blamed Minerva entirely.

As far as he could see it, there were two objectives they had to secure, namely silencing Stillson for the general safety of all those involved in his little 'show and tell' exercise, and locating the whereabouts of John Conner, that both he and his mother might be released from wherever they were being held.

He'd already had conversations with the White House regarding both those problems.

Before they could get started though, he had a phone call to make, for which he discreetly stepped outside.

'Nico! Finally you call?'

"Arthur." As he set foot on the wide stone patio at the rear of the main school building, he found Brisco talking with Storm, while they watched the children play in the grass just a little further out.

He smiled to himself.

Mates could be found in the most unexpected places some times.

'How is Timothy?' Camelot's Clan Leader asked, concern in his voice. 'You could've called me sooner. We've been worried to death since we heard.'

"I'm sorry, my King. It's been… Well, it's been rough. But he's better." Glancing over the length and breadth of where he was stood, he discovered Speed on one of the loungers, curled up with Horatio as Danny sat nearby.

Science class was done for a while it seemed.

He snorted when he saw James with Dean in his lap. The fisherman sat on the back steps, petting the Tom almost fondly, while telling some grand tale of the Bering Sea to a few of the kids, who in turn listened with rapt fascination.

Charles just had a way of changing people's minds about everything.

Even the animals apparently.

"He's healed physically. Everything else is going to take a while."

'I cannot even imagine it. And I'm not entirely sure I want to.'

"I was terrified."

Nicolaus had no trouble confessing that to his closest friend.

Arthur sighed. 'I know. There is no weakness in it. He's your son. And you are a loving father. Such is as God intended.'

"I nearly lost him."

'But you prevailed.'

"Yes."

'Then why do I still sense fear in your voice, good Knight?'

"Stillson," Nico answered turning away from those who might overhear him.

Arthur snorted. 'The general trend here is toward assuming our American Cousins have gone more than a little insane lately.'

"I can't allow him to even get close to winning this election."

'You've always strived to stay out of politics in your country. Would you start now?'

"I've never had a known Rogue try to manipulate the voters like this before," he argued, though with all fairness, Arthur did have a point. "It has to be stopped. There are more lives at stake than you know."

'You can only imagine my shocked expression. So what is it you're planning?' he asked. 'And will I need to ride in there beside you to get it done?'

Nicolaus snorted. "I have no doubt that would be a glorious sight."

'Your President Bartlet is a good man, Nico. And people can be fooled only so long.'

"Very true, on both counts, but sometimes people are too narrow-minded to see beyond what they're told to believe. Have we not seen this for ourselves? A person is clever, rational, logical and intelligent. People as a mass, are unruly, unpredictable and often times all too easily duped."

'Indeed. Then I assume you cannot wait on the intelligence of the individual to permeate the masses?'

"No. So I'm asking your permission to contact Connor and Murphy…"

Arthur chuckled darkly. 'He's way ahead of you. Connor has already left England. He has had more than enough of seeing someone with his face, behave in such a way. I'd give you the full text of the little speech he gave me, but I'm not entirely capable of doing his accent much justice.'

Nico sighed in relief. "I'm planning to see that he is utterly discredited…"

'I'd Hunt the man down myself if I could get away with it.' Arthur's voice hardened considerably. 'He hurt you far worse than anything Meela did, and now he threatens those you fight to protect? He has had his chances at forgiveness. He is done.'

Nicolaus closed his eyes, not wanting to think back to those dark years that followed Warren's death.

'I've heard through the Clan Leader grapevine, and trust me, they love their gossip worse than you're average fishwife…' Arthur continued, changed the subject to pull him away from the thoughts he knew were creeping up on Nico's Soul. '…that Kermit and Peter showed up at the Manor.'

"They did. They have information about the spy in my Clan," Nicolaus answered, deliberately focusing his attention on the present, not the past.

'What does Takamori have to say?' he asked. 'Nothing good, I'm sure.'

"I'll explain it all as soon as I can. Right now though, I need to keep the Professor's school safely hidden, discredit a vindictive son of a bitch, and find a secret enemy hideout to destroy." Nico shook his head.

Sometimes he wondered how he got to such a place in his life…

Oh yeah, Albus had thought he would make a good Clan Leader.

Bastard.

'Let Connor do what he needs to do. He will take care of Stillson as he sees fit. He has my permission to do whatever is necessary to that end. The rest you should have no problem taking care of.' Arthur paused. 'Call me before you talk to Kermit and Peter any further.'

"I will. Thank you. I just needed to hear your voice for a while."

'Take care, Nico. Powerful people have your back.'

"As I will always have yours, my King." Nicolaus hung up the phone, and nodded to himself. "Thank God for the MacManus boys," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Conner had finally had enough of his half-brother's scheming.

With a renewed sense of purpose, he strode back into the kitchen.

Mal was typing away at his laptop.

Josiah sat eating apple slices.

Lucien was reading through some papers, trying to surreptitious about it.

And Benton was standing at the counter, wearing an apron over his shirt and pants, mixing cookie dough most industriously.

"So who ate all the first batch?" he asked, sitting across from Josiah, taking an offered piece of apple.

"They are not quite done to perfection yet. But if you have patience, we should be enjoying fresh chocolate chip sweetness in a few minutes," the Mountie grinned. "Would someone pour the milk, please?"

Lucien rolled his eyes. "Really? This is what we've come to?"

Nicolaus smirked. "How's all that editing going on Claudio's new book series?"

La Croix looked up from his papers, pulling off his glasses and setting them down with a disgusted leer. There were moments that Nico even managed to surprise him. "How the hell did you know?" he demanded.

Mal looked up from his laptop, eyes wide like a startled dog who just got woken up by a kick to the balls. "Wait! Seriously? Claudio is writing a book?"

"Written." Nico winked over at Lucien.

"What book?" Mal demanded. "When? And how did I not know about this?"

Nicolaus licked his lips. "Oh, don't worry. It's not important."

"It is to me!" He glared across at Lucien, his eyes narrowing. "I need to know if I have competition here!"

"There's no competition," La Croix muttered, as he slipped his glasses back on and sighed. "Dear Claudio is simply a much better writer than Richard Castle."

Castle glared, his jaw dropping open at the sheer audacity of such a glibly offered comment. "You arrogant p…!"

"I think we have more important things to discuss, than this bullshit," Josiah interrupted, biting down on a slice of apple and talking as he munched. "What are we going to do about Stillson for a start?"

"As it turns out, that situation is being taken care of," Nico stated flatly, ignoring all the looks he was getting from his fellow Clan Leaders. "The main thing we need to focus is on protecting the school."

"Do we want to know what you have planned for Stillson?" Mal glared over at him.

"No." He knew full well he'd be getting cornered by each and everyone one of them sooner or later, all trying to find out what was going on.

Not that he could blame them for their curiosity.

"Is the school in danger?" Benton asked, his main worry being for the children.

Having had an interesting conversation with Arthur Pendragon just a short while before, he knew a little better than most, what was being planned. He didn't like it. But his approval was not required.

"At the moment, it's safe," Lucien commented. "Magneto wants to make a big statement, and taking out a school full of children, which no one knows about, isn't quite going to cut it."

Josiah looked over at La Croix. "So what would you do?"

He glared over his glasses and made tutting noises, before sighing dramatically and taking them back off. "I would do something huge. Something that would be seen worldwide. After That Night of yours, Nicolaus, everyone is waiting for the next."

Scott entered the kitchen, with Hickok and Seeley behind him. "Charles was able to locate where they are going to attack."

The Clan Leaders all looked over at him simultaneously.

"Where?" Nico demanded.

"New York." Jimmy had no idea what kind of strings Charles had pulled to get such details, but he knew enough not to ask. "We've got vehicles ready."

"New York City?" Mal demanded, as he stood up with the rest of them and grabbed his stuff. "Where?"

"Grand Central Station," Seeley answered. "I've already sent word out to Hunters in that area. They're moving in cautiously, right now."


~ Grand Central Station – New York ~


Magneto looked across the street at New York's famous Grand Central Station.

So many people were moving about, so busy with their own lives, not paying the slightest attention to anything around them.

Pushing by him, going on with their daily commute, their 'normal' routines, he found he pitied them.

They would never know anything beyond that normality.

But such boredom as was their daily lot, would never be the same again.

"Why are we here?" Pyro asked curiously. "This is boring."

"We are here to make a statement," Magneto answered him curtly. "Are you ready?"

Pyro grinned, and that smile turned into a leer. "No more boredom?" he asked.

"No more boredom."

Magneto glanced across the street at the clock.

It was seven.

The train he was seeking would be arriving in at seven fifteen, and every prediction said it was running on time.

On board was everything he had been searching for, ever since he'd stolen those very well kept records from Frankenstein's idiot secretary.

Finally all that searching had paid off.

Lyca was on that train.

She was beautiful.

Deadly.

The carnage she had left behind in escaping from that ridiculous facility were they'd kept her, was breathtaking.

The Humans had tried to subdue her.

Change her, make her normal.

But he would show her the beauty of being who she truly was.

His Eve.

The mother of all Mutantkind.

Once she joined his forces, they would hunt down her Mate.

And with the two of them reunited, Humanity would have no other choice but to listen.

Then they would bow to the superiority of the Mutant Race. They would be forced by the nature of their own reasoning to finally accept themselves the weaker species.

For they were nothing as they imagined themselves to be; no more the gods of their own universe, than the insects they swatted from their faces every day.

And they would learn that Mutants could no longer be ignored or hunted down and caged.

Their time had come.

And it had come to pass.

Mutantkind would no longer be hidden in schools or testing facilities.

They would rule.

And be acknowledged.

As was their right.

Magneto stepped out onto the street, holding up his hand, pushing the cars out of his way so effortlessly.

Horns blared.

Tires screeched.

Metal impacted and tore.

People screamed as they ran.

Finally, they were paying attention to the world around them.

He ripped the doors to Grand Central Station, clear off their hinges, flinging them whole, across the street.

Without so much as a backward glance, he stepped inside.

Destiny awaited.


***


Nicolaus heard the noise before he saw the chaos.

Leaping from the leading SUV, which could no longer move through the congestion, he looked at the carnage, studying it intently.

"Perfect timing," he murmured.

People were screaming, running away, pushing, shoving, panicked and blind.

Cops were doing what they always did best, getting stuck into the problem, risking themselves to save others, urging them away from the attack so they could set up barricades and form a perimeter.

Before 9/11 they were good what they did.

After that day, they were exceptional.

And they were astoundingly quick to respond.

"Malcolm!" A voice yelled out over the confusion, and Mal turned, stepping up to Nico's side as one of Benton's Hunters squeezed past a barrier of cop cars to reach them.

"Javier!" Mal sighed, glad to see Esposito was alright.

Benton had lent him the Hunter to help keep an eye on the Castle family, and he'd like him the moment they met. He'd even thought about trying to steal him away to Serenity Clan.

"Nice way to show up! Glad you got here before they shut everything down. And before you even ask, the Castle family is at home. The moment Jayne called me, I told them to go there and stay there," Javier reported quickly. "They're safe, so you don't need to worry about them."

Mal nodded and patted him on the shoulder. "Thank you."

"Just doin' what you asked me to do, boss." He turned and glanced back at the chaotic scene still playing out. "No one has any idea what's going on. The first reports coming in stated bombs were going off in the ticket hall, but this doesn't look like any bomb I've ever seen."

"It's not," Nico assured him. "How much have you been told about the Mutant situation?"

Javier glanced from one to the other of the two Clan Leaders.

He had met Nicolaus on a few occasions over the centuries, but never got to know him as much as he would've liked. Still, he trusted him. And that was saying a lot for a man of his background. "Nothing. Most of us figured Stillson was a wack job."

"Stillson is a Vampire. Mutants are real. There's one in Grand Central Station right now, doing what he can to start a war." Nicolaus gave him the facts.

There was hardly time for handholding and elaborate explanations after all.

Esposito whistled, but he took it well. He'd served his time as a soldier. He knew bullshit when he was stepping in it. And he knew when to shut the fuck up and do as he was told. "So what do you want me to do?" he asked. "Whatever you need, I'm good."

"I need to know what New York's finest is doing, or planning on doing." Nico glanced around, finding a pattern to the mess that was just like being on a battlefield.

Actually, he figured, it was a battlefield.

"We need to get inside," he continued, "and we need to keep the body count down."

"You want me to keep my fellow cops out?" Javier asked, just making sure he was reading the situation right.

"As much as you can. Also find our other Hunters. Round up as many as you can find. Do you know where Poe and Larkin are?"

"Other end of the Station. Hannibal and Don are also nearby. I'll find 'em."

"Good. Find Don first. Between the two of you and your badges, you should be able to coordinate with local first responders. Keep them, and as many civilians as you can, out of harm's way."

Javier nodded briskly. "On it." He gave a quick salute then turned and ran back into the crowds.

"Now what?" Mal asked.

"We go to War." Nicolaus moved toward Grand Central Station.

He already a plan in mind, but it wasn't going to be simple.


***


Alyc stepped off the train into total chaos, astonished that no one had thought to stop arrivals at the last set of lights, before they pulled into the Station itself.

She had no idea what was happening.

But fear and terror made for a heady scent.

People were screaming and running down the platforms, looking for an escape.

She frowned, turning to see where they were running from, only to witness explosions rip violently through the old Station.

It was hardly the welcome she'd envisioned.

But it was at least, a welcome of sorts.

Without a thought for herself, she turned and headed into the apparent danger, moving with agile grace through the tide of desperate humanity all pushing against her the opposite way.

For the first time since escaping from Eureka, she had found a strong lead to where her Mate might be located, and so had returned to the United States to follow up on it. The Doctor wasn't happy she had gone on her own, but she needed to find Lycan, and simply refused to be apart from him a moment longer.

It was driving her crazy.

She had been sensing his presence here and there, but couldn't locate him.

And that simply had to end.

One way or another.

At a calm and steady pace, that totally belied her current surroundings, Alyc let her senses adapt to everything around her.

She could hear metal twisting and turning.

Fiercely pounding heartbeats.

So many heartbeats.

Blood on the air.

The tang of smoke and fire.

People were cowering against the wall.

Those too terrified to run, frozen and crying, praying to be rescued, begging for help.

There were so many platforms at Grand Central Station, it would be easy to get lost; disappear into a tunnel and never be seen again.

She sniffed at the scents surrounding her.

Stepping out into the ticket hall, with its huge windows and high ceiling, she froze.

Everything stopped.

A man in a long, dark red overcoat, wearing the most ridiculous helmet she had ever seen in her life, turned to face her.

He too was calm.

In control.

His mouth moved.

He was calling to her.

He raised a finger, pointing at her.

If they thought she was going to make it easy for them, they were sadly mistaken.

She flipped back her trench coat, grabbed the two 9mms at her waist, took aim, and walked relentless into the battle.


***


Tony wasn't leaving his brothers side.

He didn't give a shit whether Speed could take care of himself. He was not letting The Squirt of his sight.

Last time any of his family were out of his sight as the shit hit the fan, one ended up buried alive again, and the other got his stupid ass 'Cured'.

On the way into the city, there had been a quick discussion over cell phones about how they were to proceed in a fight Mutants.

The one rule Nicolaus had always followed and enforced wherever possible, was not to kill humans, but it was Horatio who'd made a complex situation seem simple.

They were all either law enforcement officers or army at some point in their lives, and all of them had pulled the trigger to take down a suspect.

Mutants were no exception.

If they were threatening civilians, fellow officers, Clan Vampires, or Chosen, they were to be taken out of the equation.

As swiftly as possible.

Tony had been the one to suggest that having other friendly Vampires and Mutants on standby as a cleanup crew for damage control, was probably not a bad idea in so crowded and busy a place as New York. And Nicolaus had agreed. The last thing he, or anyone else really needed at that point, was to have Mutants showing up in some Precinct House under arrest, and Stillson throwing a press conference showing how much danger the American People were in, because the Administration still hadn't eradicated the threat.

McCoy and his team were on therefore waiting to roll in, making sure nothing unusual was booked into Holding begging for a lawyer.

Sid Hammerback was ready to ensure if a Mutant should end up at the Morgue, it wouldn't be around for dissection and examination very long. Summary destruction was not unheard of in cases of disease control, and he had a stack of paperwork prepped just in case.

After reaching the chaos, Horatio and Jethro had ordered Tony and Speed to stay put, then taken off toward the rear of the Station, leaving the two siblings standing there with their hands in their pockets, both rolling their eyes at each other.

One day, or so they hoped, their Mates would actually come to learn that no one got to live as long as they had, traveling the world with Nicolaus Valerius Meridius, without learning a few survival techniques along the way.

But before Speed could order either of his brothers to stay with the car, Danny quickly pointed out that he too was a Hunter, and with his Mate, took off hot on the heels of Horatio and Jethro.

When he turned around to find James already gone too, he wondered how such a big man could move that quickly and easily into such a crowd without drawing the slightest bit of attention to himself. That was certainly a skill worth learning.

Timothy had only shaken his head, and without hesitation, he and Tony shouldered their weapons, and made their way through the rubble at the front of the famous old structure, toward the epicenter of Magneto's destruction.

Both on alert, the sounds of battle came from everywhere at once.

Tony grabbed Speed's elbow when he stumbled, but instead of getting glared at, Tim's eyes flickered over his sibling's shoulder for a moment.

Tony stilled, watching, waiting for Tim's lead.

Before he could blink, Speed pulled his sword and took out a Mutant who had been trying to sneak up behind them.

Tony let out the breath he'd not realized he was holding, and turned around to discover their attacker on the floor, bleeding profusely from a slash across his shoulder, deep enough to have just about taken his arm off.

The guy's Mutation wasn't immediately obvious. Anyone might have passed him in the street without a second thought. It was his blood that gave it away. No one bled green unless they were an extra on the set of some bad Sci-Fi movie.

Tony squatted down next to him, making sure to keep his Designer shoes out of the mess. "You got one choice. Tell us everything, or die."

"You humans are all the same!" the Mutant growled. "Kill what is different from you!"

Tony stood up slowly then casually pushed his foot down onto the wound, feeling bones grind nicely.

To hell with his Gucci's.

"You attacked innocent human beings, slaughtering anyone who came across your path, because they weren't Mutants. Sound like you're doing the same damn thing you're accusing us of."

"Magneto will show the world how inferior you all are." He grabbed Tony's foot and twisted.

Tony countered the move, going with it, bracing one hand on the ground as he pulled his foot free again. Following through, he pulled himself back up.

He paused.

A single shot to the head left the Mutant dead on the floor.

Speed raised an eyebrow at his brother and holstered both gun and sword.

Tony shrugged, ready to make a comment when Timothy snarled and turned fast, gun raised once more.

That smell.

It was so familiar.

Tony pulled his own gun, aimed with Speed, and was horrified at a seeing a sweet little girl in the middle of all that wanton destruction and chaos, clinging firmly to a teddy bear.


***


Danny backhanded one of the Mutants, and promptly tossed his ass over the balcony handrail, hearing it hit the marble floor below. The fall wouldn't likely kill him, but he figured it was going to hurt like a bitch.

He turned to find another smirking at him, fire bouncing in its outstretched palm.

"Let me guess, you're going to watch the world burn?" Danny asked.

"And we'll start with you." Pyro threw his both hands out, the fire spreading from his fingers in a massively multiplied wave.

Danny caught the edge of the railing and launched himself over it, landing in a crouch, falling to his knees, rolling into an alcove as the incoming fireball roared over his head.

At the sound of a yell, and the explosion of a freshly released fire extinguisher, he glanced up in astonishment to see Lindsay spraying the area with foam.

"Montana!" he yelled. "What the hell are you doing here?"

A scream rang around the walls as a red laser beam of vastly improbable, and immensely powerful proportions, ripped its way up from floor level, clear through the ceiling, sending chunks of masonry hurtling to the floor below as it collapsed.

"LINDSAY!"


***


Scott knocked down one of Magneto's men, while Storm pulled up a fierce gust of air and tossed a few of them back down the stairs toward the platforms.

He paused for a moment, considering their next target.

Brisco was holding his own against the Mutants. But not once had he pulled his gun. Instead he was fighting with them by hand, as if in some Western town bar brawl. He hadn't left Storm's side though, and it seemed to him that he might be trying to protect her. It would've been cute, if the guy actually knew the full extent of what she could do. Besides which, Storm normally would have never let anyone even think about protecting her, yet she seemed to accept it from Brisco. It was puzzling, but Scott was surprised at how well the two of them were working together; almost as though they had done it hundreds of times before.

And Scott had to admit he was finding his Vampire comrades rather handy in a fight.

That too was remarkable, given that they appeared to be so very weak and very human.

The moment Charles had informed them that he'd discovered what Magneto and his group were going to do, so he had prepped to get his team out to the city.

Only to discover that the Vampires were refusing to be left behind.

Storm had pointed out that they could use the extra assistance, given that Logan was out hunting, and Jean was too far engrossed in the lab to be any help, and as Scott had made his way to the school's private plane, he'd been stopped none too gently by Jimmy, who grabbed his arm and pulled him instead to the waiting SUVs.

"Less conspicuous if you show up in Federal Issued vehicles. No one will blink as you walk by them wearing sunglasses." He pushed both Scott and Storm into the car before they could argue, and sighed at his Mate when Brisco simply climbed in after them.

Scott had watched as the Hunter pointed deliberately at Nicolaus. "Do not get yourself kidnapped!"

Nico just smirked and gave him a quick, cheeky salute.

Hickok would deny it to his dying day, but Scott swore on his wife's life, he saw the guy flip off his own Clan Leader.

Their battle plans had been down and dirty, discussed at speed as they drove breakneck into New York City.

Only the Federal Plates kept them from getting their asses hauled over by Highway Patrol.

Charles had requested they not harm any Mutants they might find, but Scott knew the inevitably of such a conflict would be doubtless counted in casualties.

He had jumped out of the SUV to watch Nicolaus with one of the other Clan Leaders, Malcolm something or other, talking with a Detective, if the badge he was wearing around his neck was anything solid to go by. Mal had forced his Mate to stay behind and protect the school, much to the man's apparent disgust.

Two other Clan Leaders had also stayed behind though, to make sure the school was as protected as possible.

Scott didn't trust Lucien as far as he could throw his whiny ass, but Hickok had told him Billy would never see a child hurt. He wasn't sure yet how much he fully trusted that statement, but Charles had assured him he and the children would be safe.

Josiah and Chavez had stayed to specifically ensure the scientists were protected.

Dr. Neville's Mate, Jack Carter, was also a Hunter, at least from what Seeley had told him. And the guy wasn't leaving his Mate's side any time soon. He could respect that attitude. It was an easy one to understand, for he had hated leaving Jean. Carter assured him personally however, that while he kept an eye on Robert, he would also watch over her.

And he'd taken the man at his word.

Horatio and Jethro had for their part, moved quickly into the situation, both dealing with it as if they had worked together for years too; professionalism and training taking over, to guide them wisely.

Danny and Mac too, had simply seemed to move into a mode of operation that was equal parts instinct and mutual cooperation.

It made Scott wonder about the full nature of their Vampirism and how the Bond he'd heard them mention, really worked.

Timothy and Tony had just given each other a knowing look as they'd made their way into the building, and Scott found himself admitting his own curiosity over what they were truly capable of.

Jimmy had spoken with great respect about all those he protected, but not one of them seriously looked like someone who could wade into battle and come out victorious.

He knew it was wrong to judge people by their appearances, especially with his own history as a Mutant, and given the kinds of things he saw every day of his life, but Vampires were not Mutants. And he had no real clue, what they were fully capable of in the middle of a fight.

Jimmy had been right though. No one blinked as they made their way past the barricades.

Hickok had stopped for a few moments to talk to another Detective; tall, dark haired, with seriously blue eyes. Scott glanced at the man who stood just over the cop's shoulder, and figured he too had to be a Hunter. He at least had the build of a fighter, and looked eager to get into the fray.

"They're going to work with our other Hunters to make sure civilians are removed and NYPD isn't caught in the middle," Jimmy informed him and Storm. "Don and Hannibal are good guys. We can trust 'em."

"Last thing we need is Stillson on the Channel 9 News weeping for the loss of good cops at the hands of these demons," Brisco mocked, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"We're getting nothing done by standing around here gossiping," Noah chided the small group. "I personally have some payback to release on these asshats."

Jimmy had pulled his Glock, glancing at him and Storm. "I have no doubt you two can do damage, but stick with us just in case a few Vampires got mixed in with the Mutants in all this."

And so they had worked together as a team, making their way into the battle through the main entrance and the ticket hall.

Scott could see Magneto coordinating the attack, and motioned for Storm, when an explosive fireball caught his attention.

Pyro.

And they'd just been wondering a few days ago, what might've happened to that kid.

"Take care of him. I'll see if we can get closer to Magneto." Storm gave him her encouragement. "At least now we know where he's been."

She began to move across the main area, Brisco right next to her, as Scott turned and headed for the reckless teenager whom the Professor had struggled to try and help for the last year.

He hadn't gone more than five paces before he realized that Hickok and his Mate were still right there next to him, guns out, covering his advance.

Then all hell broke loose.

And it was his own doing entirely.

He hadn't even seen it coming, as a toad-like Mutant – known surprisingly to the Mutant community as Toad - jumped down in front of him from where he had been perched, high up on the wall under the tall front windows.

He leered at them all mischievously, crouching, ready to jump back in an instant.

But not before his tongue, enormously long and whip lash fast, spat out to rip off the only protection in the world, that kept Scott Summers from unleashing utter mayhem and destruction upon those around him.

He yelled as his glasses went flying away, and he glanced upwards helplessly, watching as his own Mutation tore a shockwave of powerful red light straight through the ceiling of Grand Central Station.

As he closed his eyes, he felt an impact against his body as someone pushed him to the ground.

"Stay down! I've got you covered," Jimmy hissed in his ear.

And Scott did just that, hunkering lower with his arms over his head, as the rumbling crash of falling concrete and shattered glass, exploded all around them.


***


Neither Tony nor Speed lowered their weapons.

The little girl sniffled, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "Have you seen my Mommy?"

"Do you really think that disguise is fooling either of us?" Speed growled.

The little girl began to cry, then blinked up at them and smiled wickedly, even as she morphed back into her natural body.

Mystique looked at Speed, her eyes narrowing. "How does it feel to be cured?" she asked seductively.

Timothy Quinn chuckled. "Honey, you really have no idea."

She cocked her head, watching him intently, not giving the man next to him much attention.

A thin smile played on her lips as she stalked closer. "I admit I'm impressed. You truly are a rarity. Magneto should have kept you."

"I'll make sure and add your admiration to my list of accomplishments," Speed snarked, "my life is complete with knowing that." He lowered his weapon to his side, but his eyes never left her as she moved. "Tony? D'you want to kick her ass, or should I do it?"

She glanced briefly at the one he had addressed, yet dismissed him immediately as no immediate threat. "Aw! I would rather play with you. You're so much more of a challenge."

"Oh, I am so kicking her ass now." Tony handed Speed his gun.

"You sure you're up to it?" he asked, sliding Tony's weapon into the back of his jeans.

"Fuck you, Pagan!" He slipped off his suit coat, tossed it casually aside, pulled up his sleeves, and gestured for her to make the first move.

Mystique rolled her eyes before she moved to knock the foolish child down a few pegs.

She was caught off guard though, when Tony countered her, grabbing her arm and slamming her into the nearest wall.

He backed away from her, moving down a smaller corridor that led them from the main area of the battle, but they could still hear the commotion going on in the lobby, hear the screams and continuing destruction.

They had been trying to make their way down to the trains, to pull out any civilians that were still trapped.

Other things apparently, chose to get the way of that.

Mystique growled and attacked again.

Each move was countered.

Tony kept his eyes level with hers, watching intently, anticipating her strikes, noting her gestures, and her strategy.

She slipped under his defenses at least once, and got a few good hits in to his ribs, making him grimace before he pulled back, twisting as he brought his foot around, only to have it snagged and held fast.

She was strong.

He'd give her that.

He huffed, leveled himself against her hands, and kicked outwards, dislodging his foot as he flipped backwards and landed in a half crouch.

Mystique spat out blood from where he'd kicked her clean in the chin.

She then made a lightning fast move for Speed, only to have him in turn, snag her arm and use her own momentum and slam her cheekbones first into the wall.

"Listen bitch…" he snarled.

The building shook.

Even the foundations trembled.

Mystique took full advantage of the moment and pushed back against him, gave him a stunning right hook, and then ran down the hallway toward the stairs at the far end, disappearing into the chaos and dust with a cheeky, provocative wave.

The two Vampires quickly followed.

As they slid to a stop at the top of the steps, both looked out over the destruction of Grand Central Station.

The roof was gone.

Just gone.

Its famous mural of stars over the main concourse, nothing but shattered and crumbled ruin.

In an instant, Speed was back in the Vatican, staring at centuries of anguished devastation and lost frescoes that were irreplaceable…

"Fuck!" Through the debris, Tony saw Nicolaus being pushed up against the furthest railing, a large and seriously meaty hand, wrapped solidly around his throat. "PAPA!"


***


Warrick was going to kill his Mate.

And he was pretty sure Booth was going to kill his own Clan Leader.

Nico and Benton had ditched both of them from virtually the moment they entered the building, saying something about getting to Lyca before Magneto.

Warrick had no idea what the hell his Mate had been talking about, and had no doubt it was something Charles must've told him.

Which Nico had promptly forgotten to inform everyone else about.

Benton had been two steps behind him.

"I can kill him, right?" Booth asked, as he carried a young child to one of the exits, making sure she still had her teddy bear. "Angel would take me in. We're family. He likes me."

Warrick chuckled at Seeley's rant.

They turned a corner to one of the side doors, finding Don with Hannibal, busy helping civilians out of the building, urging them to safety behind the familiar blue barricades.

Booth handed Hannibal the small child he was caring.

"Where's Nico?" Hannibal demanded, as he handed the child off to waiting NYPD Officers. His eyes widened silently when Warrick growled low in his throat. "So he ran into the thick of things leaving behind his bodyguards behind?"

"He wouldn't be Nicolaus if he didn't." Warrick shrugged. Though with everything else that had happened in the last few years, he had every right to be royally and justifiably pissed, he had learned pretty early on in their relationship that his Mate was one very stubborn Roman. "This area is cleared now. Any word about civilians in the tunnels?"

"Horatio and Jethro were heading in that direction," Don informed them. "I'm not sure where everyone is located exactly, but Esposito is working with Poe on the South Side, while Larkin and Peter are on the North Side."

"Are all exits covered?" Seeley asked.

"This is the only exit at the moment," Hannibal assured them. "But if this dude goes out the front, we've got more issues to worry about than the ruins of Grand Central Station."

"News at Five." Booth was really beginning to despise this Magneto person. "Can we push him towards the Tunnels? Force him to head down that way?"

Warrick shook his head. "We need to make sure that the front is blocked. His need to fight another day, should suddenly become more important than making a statement."

"Seriously, what the hell does this guy want? So he had a crappy childhood!? So did the rest of us. Get the fuck over it, and move the fuck on," Hannibal grumbled.

"He wants Action News at 5 to tell the world that he had a crappy childhood," Warrick explained.

"So we're screwed." Seeley threw his hands up, pacing the small area while he pondered the problem. Then he stopped suddenly, snapped his fingers and looked over at Flack. "McCoy's around right?"

Don nodded.

"Great! Get him to ban the news crews. Remove the media from the area due to the imminent danger…"

"No cameras, means…" Hannibal smiled at his fellow Hunter.

"No statement!" Booth exclaimed triumphantly.

"Now we just need to get Nico t…"

A red tinged explosion, threw Warrick bodily to the ground, shoving him out the doorway he'd been stood in.

More screams, and the pounding of terrified heartbeats, flooded over him.

He sat up.

Ignoring the pain in his side, he clenched a fist into his ribs and looked back at the station.

The entire entrance had collapsed, leaving nothing but a mound of glass and rubble.

He grunted as the stood up, staggering to his feet. "Everyone okay?" he asked, finding Hannibal tug Don out from under a wave of dust, and Seeley just a few feet away, coughing and rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah," Hannibal muttered. "Just having a great time in sunny New York! You okay?"

"I'm fine." He gave the Hunters a small smile, then frowned when he smelt blood. Lots of it.

Don glanced over at the Pirate, who was suddenly wide-eyed and paling fast. "Warrick!"

Seeley turned to Sylum's Co-Leader. "Oh, fuck this! You're as bad as he is!"

Don handed the Hunter his jacket, and Booth pushed the material into the long gash down Warrick's side.

"We have Chosen in the area?"

"Alan is just around the corner," Hannibal informed him.


***


Nicolaus stumbled as the building shook.

Benton grabbed him, hauling him up the stairs, away from the collapsing ceiling.

The two coughed as a pall of dust settled around them, getting into everything, everywhere.

Benton moved away momentarily, from protecting his fellow Clan Leader, and looked down once more into the lobby. There was no getting out that way. They would have to dive into the thick of the battle to even contemplate getting out of the Station.

"You know they're going to kill us." Nico stood up, brushing off the debris from his shoulders and hair as best he could.

"Seeley is just going to run and tell Ray." Benton had no doubt his Mate would come up with some unique ways of punishing him later on.

Nicolaus fell back against the wall, one hand gripping at his side, a small groan escaping his lips.

"Whoa!" Benton reached for him. "Nick!?" He checked him over for wounds, only to find nothing significant.

"Warrick!" He bit his lip, taking a few calming breaths to steady his seriously rattled nerves.

He then closed his eyes for a second and sent as much love and determination back through the Bond as he possibly could, to which he swore he could hear Warrick replying, 'Damn Stubborn Roman'.

Really, Warrick needed to stop talking with Arthur.

He chuckled as he opened his eyes, only to see a Beast – quite literally - coming straight towards them.

Nico pushed Benton out of the way none too politely, and took the impact of the attack himself.

The two of them slid across the terrace floor and down a few steps, before slamming into the space below the railing.

The Vampire used every ounce of his strength to push the big, hairy, and solidly muscled creature away from him, before scrambling up and pausing in shock at realizing just who stood before him.

"Michael Keppler?" He stared.

"Nah! Wrong brother." He grinned, flashing sharp, bestial teeth at him as he moved.

And he moved really fast for such a big Mutant, grabbing Sylum's Clan Leader by the throat and lifting him clear off the ground until his feet were dangling in midair, before slamming him down onto marble rail again.

Nicolaus groaned, biting back a hiss of pain as a couple of ribs gave way at such an impact.

He grappled furiously for the hand around his neck, feeling the sharp slice of some vicious claws digging into his skin, even as he found leverage, pulled both feet up and kicked at the beast's chest.

It sent them tumbling onto the terrace again, but at least they were away from the edge.

Nico had no time to even cough in gratitude that his head hadn't just been ripped off. Instead he took the advantage, rolled away across his left shoulder, and stood up again quickly, dashing back to the top of the stairs they'd fallen down.

He was as much the General he had always been, as his opponent was an animal.

"Who are you?" he demanded, no longer in the mood for banter.

"They call me Sabertooth." He snarled, teeth flashing as he attacked.

"Well they call me Nico." He countered Sabertooth's advance by swiftly ducking and scooting back, ready to tackle the Mutant to the ground again if that was what it took.

Sabertooth stopped.

His dark eyes watched the smaller man intently.

His opponent was calm and agile, demonstrating the kind of strength and thought that was actually something of a decent challenge. But there was no way he could have been human; not when that first blow alone, might easily have broken a human being's back and the man before him still stood firmly on his own two feet.

Sabertooth sniffed the air. "Strange smell you have. You're not human."

"But neither are you," Nico countered with a grin.

Sabertooth smiled slyly at the compliment.

This person also knew of honor, for though he carried several weapons that might have been used in the struggle to fell him with far greater ease than brute force alone ever could, he had pulled neither blade nor gun.

And that was not necessarily a bad thing in a world that had long ago lost sight of such concepts, as a fair fight, at least in his opinion.

Still, he knew when to strategically retreat, though he could have maintained the contest for quite some time.

"We should continue this, when the moment is more conducive." He bowed.

"I'm looking forward to it," Sylum's Leader replied, with an acknowledging salute. "Just give my ribs time to get used to your grip."

Sabertooth chuckled, moving quickly, jumping from the top of the stairs to land easily on the bottom floor.

He moved down the second set of stairs towards the trains, away from the battle, his long black coat flapping out behind him, disguising his beast-like gait.

Benton approached Nicolaus, having already had his own gun balanced and waiting should a shot be required to save his friend's life. "What the hell was that?"

"I have no idea." He tried to shrug, but the pain across his chest wouldn't let him. "Come on. We should get out of here."

And with that, he moved past Benton, for the other end of the caved in front lobby.

He could see Alyc in all the mess.

And she was already in full Hunting mode.

He watched her closely, finding it a strangely stimulating sight to behold, but he knew from what Charles had already warned him about, that she had to be calmed, for the good of everyone.

A confrontation with Magneto, would be highly unpredictable, no matter the intervention.

And he had no desire to see the body count rise yet further.


***


To Magneto, she was even more beautiful than he had dreamed.

She strolled with such apparent calm into the battle, her eyes sweeping the chaos as without a blink to contemplate the consequences, she entered the fray.

Magneto had told his army that she was not to be harmed, though in truth he knew he ought not have worried.

Anyone foolish enough to get too close was simply removed from the equation.

Her movements were supple, lithe, and fluid.

Her aim deadly.

She killed with precision, minimum effort, and great skill.

It was astonishing.

He stepped in front of her, ignoring the two guns she held in front of her, aimed squarely at his head.

"Lyca?"

Alyc lowered her weapons slightly, as she took in the man before her, assessing him as merely another target.

"Is this your doing?" she asked simply.

"This is for you." He waved his arms around expansively, encompassing the destruction in its totality.

She chose not to respond, and merely raised eyebrow.

"I'm saving you, Lyca."

"I don't need saving, old man," she growled.

She had been told that before.

And those who came to save her, paid for their folly.

"Humans need to be taught that such beauty as yours cannot be controlled. They need to learn that Mutants are a part of this world. They need to understand that we will not be tortured in laboratories, or kept hidden away in schools any longer." Magneto stepped steadily toward her, utterly convinced that she would see his way.

Alyc snorted, shaking her head. "Humans? You think Humans stole my Mate from me? That they locked me away? Experimented on me? Took my memories? Invaded my life?"

Magneto paused mid-stride, taking in the new information he was suddenly getting from her. "Dear child, no Mutant would ever hurt their Eve. You are too precious for us to harm."

Alyc laughed out loud then. "I'm not your Eve. I'm not your Savior. I just want my Mate."

"Then I shall help you find him." He took a step closer, holding out his hand, flexing his fingers. "Come with me. Help us, and we can help you."

He watched her as she stilled, her head tilting slightly.

He didn't see an attack coming, or sense anything wrong, until he felt the impact of her foot in his chest.

It threw him back a few yards.

But he stood up quickly, reaching out again, tearing the guns from her grasp, and tossing them to the side like they no more than trash.

Alyc paused, and then crouched, taking a fighting stance.

Bone claws emerged through her hands at the knuckles, three to each fist, as she snarled at the man in front of her. "Where is he? What have you done to my Mate!?"

She could smell her beloved Lycan on him, and would make him tell her where he was, or kill him slowly for being in her way.

Suddenly everything came together in Magneto's head.

He knew who she was referring to.

But more importantly, he had him already locked away. "I know where he is. Let me take you to him."

That was certainly not quite the approach he should've taken.

And Alyc wanted him to know it as she leapt at him.

Magneto held up his hand once more, halting her advance, focusing his attention on the metal buckles and clasps that adorned her clothing in order to push her away from him, slamming her into one of the Professor's beloved X-Men.

Though they were yet to be referred to as such, he knew what Charles was planning for the near future, and figured it to be a mildly amusing diversion at best.

Perhaps an arrogant annoyance at worst.

Charles was so very much the Humanitarian.

When in fact, he wasn't even Human.

"Mystique!" he yelled, as he moved further forward to the front entrance. He would make sure this world knew that Mutants were real, and were ready for the War. "What are you doing? Fools! We leave the other way!"

"Exit's blocked. Charles sent in reinforcements. We can't get past them." Pyro came running from behind Mystique, foam and water still dripping from his hair, giving him all the appearance of a half-drowned cat. "Dunno who they were, but they held their own against each of us. Not Humans. Humans don't do that."

Magneto glared bitterly at Mystique, who simple glanced in unruffled frustration at what was happening behind her, indicating those of whom Pyro had spoken, and who were even then, closing in on them.

"For once I am in agreement with the child," she said tightly. "We need to make a hasty escape or we are going to lose more than we ever hoped to gain here."

Magneto growled, and in a fit of rage he reached up to manipulate the twisted steel beams that had been exposed when the roof was destroyed, pulling them free with great ease, and throwing them viciously at all those who dared stand in his way.

Without a backward glance to see what became of his foes, he stalked out to the train tunnels with his fellow Mutants, where transportation had been awaiting them at the end of the line all along, just in case of failure.


***


Storm's eyes clouded an opaque white, as she pulled the air in around her.

Fast.

The wind whipped out of nowhere as far as those near her were concerned, but with it she caught the flying steel beams and slowly lowered them to the ground even as the wind steadily died.

Such concentration as something that desperate actually required, lifted her too from the ground for a moment, several feet in the air, and she stumbled as she came back to earth, her footing caught on the rubble.

But she was embraced in strong arms that stopped her falling, and on opening her eyes again found Brisco smiling at her in awe.

"Cool trick," he chuckled.

"You should see what I can do when I'm really pissed." She returned his smile demurely, laying a hand on his chest to steady herself. But she kept it there a while, realizing she couldn't feel a heartbeat. "That is really weird."

Brisco covered her hand with his own. "Coming from a woman who just conjured up a wind storm to counter an attack from some dude who can manipulate metal?"

"We all have our uniqueness," she replied, defensive and yet not insulted. "Scott!"

"I got him!" Jimmy waved as he and Noah approached, guiding their new found friend between them, telling him where to put his feet while they picked a relatively path through the devastation. "He's banged up, but our Cyclops of a buddy here'll be okay."

He'd folded his handkerchief and tied it over Scott's eyes to try and keep him from the headache he just instinctively knew the guy was going to get, fighting to keep himself from the natural desire for sight.

Still, he'd heard some of what had happened. "What's the damage, Storm?" he asked. "Do we still have everyone? Is Magneto gone?"

"The good guys here are alright," Brisco answered him. "Grand Central on the other hand, is looking at a much needed repair job. Wait? Didn't they do some of that about ten years ago?"

Storm nodded, sitting next to Scott once the two Hunters relinquished their charge.

She put a hand on his knee. "Don't worry. Let's get you home to Jean and we'll take care of the rest later."

Jimmy clapped him heartily on the shoulder. "Next Hunt, we'll make sure that Toad guy gets his legs fried up for dinner."

Scott chuckled. "Storm fried his tongue once with a lightning bolt. It's a miracle he's still got it!"

He figured then that Vampires were alright. They were good in a fight. They were considerate and genuine. And they actually gave a damn about you, no matter who you were.

While he doubted they were all the same, he was more than willing to trust those he knew.

And there was something about the nickname 'Cyclops' that just seemed to fit…


***


Tony and Speed made their way down to the floor below, moving easily over the debris, trying not to make too much sound that might alert wary Mutants and Rogues to their presence.

Tony came to a stop, throwing his arm out to halt his brother.

They'd witnessed the little confrontation their Papa had had with an enormously growly beast thing, and were puzzled by its reasons for apparently running off again without finishing what it had started.

Still, Sylum's Clan Leader had at least retained his head.

So there was always hope for tomorrow.

But following after Nico, the two of them soon found what they could only assume from his rigid posture and silent gestures that they go no further, was their main objective, and they ended up mirroring him and Benton, stood side by side across the concourse near the opposite staircase, watching as Alyc paced and growled dangerously, like a caged up dog under extreme confinement stress.

"She's the one Carter helped escape?" Tony whispered, glancing over at Speed, who nodded in affirmation. "How the hell do we calm her down? Give her a milk bone?"

"How would you be calmed if you just find out Magneto stole Jethro?" Speed stared archly at his brother. "You heard what just happened."

"Okay, so a killing rampage it is then." He glanced across at Nico, who was already on the phone, no doubt talking to Charles for some advice.

"James…!" Speed took an urgent step toward his brother, who was coming up the stairs from the train platforms.

When he couldn't exactly yell at him for fear of attracting some desperately unwanted attention, he could only wave quickly and try to tell him in some form of flailing sign language, to take cover or risk the wrath of an irate Mutant.

James held up his hand to his brother in cheerful greeting, relieved to find he was okay in the middle of things, then stopped, right in front of Alyc.

"Hi!" he said carefully, offering her a genuine smile that showed nothing of the concern which suddenly slammed through him.

He had visions of his cell phone going off in about five seconds, as Frank called him to find out what the hell he'd gotten himself into.

Tony shook his head sadly. "Yeah, he is such a Quinn."

Alyc stopped, and stared at the man in front of her.

"I'm a friend of Jack's." He held out his hands, palms up, showing her he wasn't armed. "He was the one who helped you get out of Eureka."

She tilted her head slightly. "What did he say?"

"That Frankenstein is a real son of a bitch, and that if I was ever to meet you, I should say hi! and let you know that I was okay in his book." James shrugged. "He's a good guy. And I'm not much a threat, just a fisherman."

"Who saves kittens?" She relaxed a little, and took a step toward him, reaching out to pulling a small nugget of fur from his jacket pocket.

"She was left alone in the chaos." James scratched the cat's ears. "Probably got a home somewhere in the tunnels and got frightened with all the screaming. My name is James, by the way. It's nice to meet you."

"Alyc." She held the kitten close to her cheek, smelling its fur. "I like you, James."

He smiled, and a low chuckle escaped from the burly Vampire.

"Would you come with me?" she asked. "I need to call a friend."

James nodded without hesitation. "Sure. But I'm not that good in a fight. Oh, I've seen a few bar brawls…"

Alyc handed him the kitten back. "I'll protect the two of you." She turned right around, and looked straight at Nicolaus. "General!"

Nico knew his eyebrows rose in surprise, but he bowed his head to acknowledge her greeting as he answered. "I have no doubt so fine a warrior, will be fine, no matter the day."

"I got James, here." She nodded over her shoulder at her new found companion. "I'll see you in a day's time."

With that, she turned once more and headed for the tunnels, James glancing quickly back at Speed who was giving him a 'what the fuck is going on?' look. But James wasn't exactly sure either and so he just shrugged and followed behind Alyc, petting the kitten, and trying to figure out what exactly he would tell his Mate later on.

Speed stood there in shock.

It took Horatio snapping his fingers in front of his eyes to get him focusing back on the situation at hand.

"Where the fucking fuck have you been?!" he exploded.

"Clearing out the platforms, figuring what their escape route was, and then planting a tracking device on their getaway vehicle. Do you have any idea how many platforms there actually are in this place? Not including service and access tunnels too?" Horatio shrugged. "So nowhere in particular really. Thanks for asking."

Timothy sighed at his sibling, who was giving him the 'what can you do?' look back.

"Me and you are having an argument later," he muttered.

"I figured as much." Horatio leaned over and ran a hand through Speed's hair. "I'm always going to make sure you're safe."

"I can take care of myself." As though to deny he'd just said that, Speed stepped into his Mate's embrace and buried his exhausted head into the other Vampire's shoulder.

"I know." H just held him close. "Humor me for the next hundred or so years, okay?"

Tony smiled at the sight, and then turned on his own Mate. "Do we need to have a conversation about the fact I'm not an idiot child to be left behind? Y'know, the whole 'I've seen more wars than you can count, and then some' speech?"

Jethro grinned straight at him, not in the least bit bothered by Tony's ire. "Like you were going to leave Tim's side?"

Antonio shook his head, and threw his hands in the air, then turned to his Father. "You want to explain the big dude who was choking you like a grizzly bear with a tourist?"

"Not really." Nicolaus smiled benignly at his kids. "Our main concerns now are getting everyone out of here, finding Warrick and making sure he's okay, getting back to the School, and letting McCoy do his thing."

He searched the Bond a moment, embracing his Mate in the only way he knew how, and was rewarded by the sensation that all was mending.

Mentally and physically.

Benton coughed politely next to him. "Don't forget to add, needing a Doctor check your ribs, since I know a few of them got broken with the grizzly bear episode."

The General glared at him, but the Mountie was impervious. "Payback is a bitch, Benoit."

"Booth's already called Ray." Benton cocked his head as though anticipating more a battle of wits than a full on argument. His tiny little smirk said everything else. "Now, perhaps we should get out of here, as I do not wish to be in the immediate vicinity once the New York Transportation Authority sees the damage."

Speed shook his head. "You know what? I'm not asking." He smiled tiredly back at his Mate. "Where's Danny?"

"I'll go find out. You just stay out of trouble." Horatio kissed his him quickly, and then walked off, Jethro once again by his side.

"Should we be concerned that those two are working together all the time now?" Tony asked, watching their two Mates head out into the rubble.

"Probably," Speed murmured, trying not to admit that he did need the arm his brother offered as they headed back to the lobby. "So what was with all the moves back there with the bitch?"

"Moves?" Tony asked innocently, glancing down at his ruined suit as though only then realizing it was a disaster. "There's a few grand down the drain," he snorted.

"With Mystique." Speed rolled his eyes at his brother's nonchalance. "Which, by the way, is something we are not telling our Mates ever happened."

"No shit!" Tony snorted again. "I've been training with my Assassin kid," he muttered, conspiratorial and shifty-eyed. "Figured to get some new skills out of letting him kill me on a yearly basis."

Speed stopped.

Tony turned and looked at him. "What?"

"After how many years, you're now training with the Assassin?" He crossed his arms and stared at his brother. "Really?"

"Well, I figured if I was going to have to step up and run a Clan someday…" Antonio had been loathe to admit his feelings to anyone about what he was going through after the whole thing in Egypt, but he knew his brother would get it.

One way or another.

Timothy smiled. "How very grown up."

"Fuck off, Pagan!"

"Do you really want to go there?" He poked at him playfully.

"Come Boxing Day, I'm so kicking your ass!" Tony smirked, poking him back.

"Yeah, yeah! Dream on!"


***


Mac stood quietly a few steps behind his Mate, guarding him all interruption.

Danny was sat on a pile of debris, glasses in hand, tears streaming down his dusty covered cheeks, leaving tracks in the grime.

Mac knew it wasn't the moment to comfort him. Danny needed to work out a few things in his own head, but later, alone in their bed, he would hold him close, soothing his sorrows and easing his grief.

He looked up as see Jethro Gibbs and Horatio Caine approached them, concerned looks on their faces.

Mac squeezed his Mate's shoulder then walked over to Sylum's Head of Security.

"We lost Lindsay," he explained quietly.

Horatio stared in shock.

They had yet to hear about any casualties amongst their own.

"What was she doing here?" he asked. "Was she called?"

"She was actually catching the train." Mac shook his head. "When it all went to hell, she started helping people get out of the building. She did what she was trained to do. She died doing her duty to the City."

"What happened?" Jethro wondered, trying not to disturb Danny.

Mac couldn't help but grin at remembering what she'd done when faced with the seeming impossible. "That Pyro kid? He was throwing fireballs at Danny. I was making my way toward them from behind, trying to get a shot off when Lindsay pulled up a fire extinguisher. She covered him and Danny in foam. It was really well done."

"Sounds like her," Horatio commented with a smile.

The young woman had attitude, and was very protective of her friends. He'd met her at Blade and Aiden's funeral, and knew that in the past year, she and Danny had become close. There was no way she could have stood meekly by and watched him get hurt.

"Then the roof collapsed." Mac looked around, as helpless as he had felt at that moment. "It was one of those freak things. The way the debris crashed, it knocked her down, took her head…"

Given what each one of them did for a living, they had all seen such strange situations; weird occurrences, Acts of God, split seconds in time that no one could explain let alone predict.

"Marisol was lost with her Mate," Mac said simply, giving Horatio a significant nod.

The redhead understood, squeezing Mac's shoulder to tell him as much without words.

Taylor knew it was good.

There would be no questions.

The moment the dust had settled over them, Danny just stared in horror, not quite knowing what to do.

Lindsay had been annoying as hell when she first joined their team, like some lost little girl way too naïve to ever survive New York, but she had been stubborn as hell, and far more determined to succeed than most people ever gave her credit for being.

She'd never faltered, and she'd stayed by his side through all the bullshit they'd endured; even when Sonny had come after them, and Aiden had died.

She'd been his Childe.

And they trusted each other.

She had planned to come down to Miami for a few weeks, get some sun, relax.

Last he'd heard, things were going well with her Mate, and they were slowly getting together, overcoming their issues.

Lindsay had been smiling.

It was all meant to be good…

So when he'd looked across the concourse, to find Marisol crouched behind a half-flattened newsstand, tears running down her cheeks in shock and disbelief, he'd been mad with grief and anger.

"Wait!" He stared at her for a few moments, needing to be sure of what he was seeing. "Why are you standing?"

Mates could survive just long enough to exact revenge if one of them was lost.

But they weren't meant to linger forever without the other.

She stood up a little wobbly, her dress torn and dirty, one shoe heel broken.

"We never…" She wiped the tears from her face. "I couldn't…"

Mac moved in next to his Mate, having seen Lindsay die and felt the pain wash over Danny's Soul.

"You couldn't what?" Danny demanded. "What!?"

"I still love Horatio. He's my husband." She looked at the two Hunters who were advancing on her. "Lindsay was okay with it…" She tried to justify it all, believing no one else could ever understand what she'd been feeling since being Turned.

"She was your Mate!" Danny's voice dropped low, but lost none of its anger. "A Mate is everything to you. You don't walk away, pinning over someone else's fucking Mate!!"

Before Mac could blink, Danny had reached around and grabbed the Samurai sword from his hand, swinging it in a single, unhesitating arc.

The dust settled just a few feet from Lindsay's remains.

"I pray that when you both return, you'll find happiness in each other," he whispered.

When he turned around to look at his Mate, the reality of what he'd just done came to hit him square in the head.

And Mac gently took the sword from his grasp.

"As far as anyone is concerned, she died when Lindsay did," Mac explained, as he cleaned the blade.

He knew Horatio would sooner or later learn the truth, as would Speed, but for that moment, his words were sufficient to cover any justification.

Marisol had made one too many enemies in Sylum with her continued insistence that Horatio was her husband.

Perhaps the reality of it all in her head and her heart, simply refused to match up after she was Turned? Or perhaps she'd simply been too self-absorbed to care?

He didn't know for sure.

And he knew then that he never would.

But Mac Taylor would always stand by his Mate, even if it met taking on Nicolaus himself.

It was just what Mate's did for each other.

Nothing less.


***


Jethro leaned against one of the SUVs, sipping a fresh cup of coffee, watching intently as NYPD started to sweep the area.

He could already hear unsubstantiated rumors, built on other equally as unsubstantiated rumors, flying around on the air, like bugs milling over a rotting carcass.

It might have been interesting to observe, if he hadn't been right in the middle of it all himself, but it certainly seemed their Hunters and Chosen Ones were busy spreading a story that this entire thing had been a major Domestic Terrorist attack, and suspects were being hunted down.

It was taking a while for them to get clear of the area.

All three SUVs they had arrived in, were totally blocked behind a few dozen police cars, rescue vehicles and assorted barricades.

Nicolaus was sat safely inside Alan Tracy's ambulance making sure Warrick was resting. The wound he'd received was already starting to heal, though he'd lost a lot of blood along the way. But he was fit and health enough before hand, so there were no complications, and Warrick himself was gladly demonstrating his return to strength, by yelling at Nico for taking on Sabertooth all by himself. How exactly he knew about that, Jethro wasn't really sure, but then Warrick was as good as Nicolaus about knowing everything that went on in the Clan.

Jimmy, Noah, and Brisco had been able to commandeer a vehicle, and were taking Scott and Storm back to the school.

No one had any doubted that Magneto was going to hit them there at some point.

It was just a matter of time.

Speed had been talking with Danny for quite a while, holding him close while Mac watched silently, protecting his Mate, hovering around just as Jethro knew he did with his own Mate whenever Tony was having a problem.

He figured it was a thing that Mates just did.

Sipping thoughtfully at his coffee however, he wasn't sure whether Mac thought he was fooling anyone with what happened to Marisol, but their secret would stay hidden.

There didn't seem a point making waves over it; not when there were so many other things to worry about it and so many other lives potentially at stake.

Somehow that didn't seem quite fair to Marisol.

But then nothing was ever entirely fair.

Horatio had told him about the emails and phone calls he'd still been getting from Marisol. And the fact that he knew she hadn't Mated with Lindsay, was hardly surprising.

Jethro didn't blame Danny for what he'd done. Hell, he would gladly have bought the man a drink for taking that kind of initiative, but at the same time, he knew Danny would need to come clean to Speed at least.

The Irishman would probably throw him a party.

He wasn't sure how Nicolaus would take it though. There were rules to Vampire Society. And breaking them was meant to have consequences for honor and morality.

He snorted into his cup.

Who knew he'd be debating Vampire Ethics with himself one day, after battling with Mutant weirdness in a terrorist attack on a famous landmark?

Horatio settled next to him, clutching his own coffee.

God bless the Starbucks workers.

A few dozen of them were wandering the area, bringing coffee and food to rescue workers and first responders.

New Yorkers knew how to come together and help each other out.

And those they aided were hugely grateful for it.

"So Nico already knows." H glanced sideways at him.

"How?" Jethro heard the shock in own voice, but didn't really register it in his heart.

"He actually saw it happen," the redhead replied. "He'll talk to Danny and Mac himself; let them know he's not thrilled…"

"But?" Jethro wondered if there might be some kind of revolt within Sylum.

"He's known all about Marisol's emails and phone calls. He was ready to take action against her himself. It seems it's a big no-no in the Vampire Community to going after someone else's Mate. He pointed out that if Speed had known about the letters…"

H let that particular thought hang in the air there between them.

"She would have been dead a long ass time ago." Jethro shook his head. "You should've told him."

"Yeah. Probably. Might've kept Danny from living with this." Horatio glanced over to see Danny and Speed still talking together, sitting close.

He watched as Tim's eyebrows rose, and he suddenly looked up, pinning his Mate there where he stood.

It was one of those uncomfortable moments, and Jethro moved away from the SUV.

"Do you really think Danny gives a shit?" he asked. "He's a Quinn and he's a Hunter. He took out a potential threat. Unlike you or me who tend to forget that our Mates aren't children needing our protection, Mac actually tells his Mate what's going on, so he knew full well what Marisol was doing."

"Horatio Caine!" Speed's irate voice boomed loud and clear across the road.

"I'm going to go find Tony." Jethro gave his friend a smart salute. "Good luck with that."

Horatio rolled his eyes. "Thank you. I think."


***


Warrick chuckled at Nicolaus and nodded to where their kid was yelling at their Head of Security.

"What's that about?" he asked. "Trouble?"

"I'll tell you later." Nico leaned his head back, nearly bashing it on a rack full of medical gear. Those little plastic boxes had sharp corners. "Ahh! Damnit!" he muttered, suddenly exhausted but still finding there were stuff to do. "I'll be right back."

"Nico…?" Warrick also sighed when his Mate leapt out of the ambulance and headed for Mac and Danny. "What the hell is going on?"

Benton shifted slightly, climbing inside to take his friend's place. "He'll tell you later."

"What can you tell me?" the Pirate demanded. "Do not make me get up from here and beat it out of you."

Tallikut's Clan Leader offered a calming smile as he contemplated for a few moments just what he could confess to safely. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then finally made up his mind. "Magneto escaped. Alyc took off, taking James with her. Dearest Nico got into a fight with someone called Sabertooth, but then you already have that information. Oh, and Horatio was able to put a tracker on the Mutants' escape vehicles."

"James?" Warrick blinked a few times. "Well that proves he's a Quinn. Has someone thought to call Frank Hurley?"

"I don't think so." Benton frowned. "I'll see about Booth contacting McGarret in Oceania. He'll know where Hurley is I think."

"And don't imagine for a second, that Nico's weaseling out of a discussion about Sabertooth," Warrick grumbled. "Damn Stubborn Roman."

"Watch his ribs though," the Mountie informed him, scooting out of the ambulance again in a move he considered purely for self-preservation. "Sabertooth did some damage.

"NICOLAUS!!!!"


***


The Damn Stubborn Roman utterly ignored his Mate, as he stepped in front of Danny and Mac.

Both Vampires watched him carefully, and he didn't need 1600 years of experience to recognize that the Bonded Mates he was about to address, would do anything to protect one other.

Danny took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, looking back at him with a rigid defiance that reminded him of someone else entirely, and for a moment Nicolaus was taken back to Rome, to another face not really so very different; a face he knew he'd never forget, looming at him through the smoke and ash that filled the Sanctuary of the Santa Maria Della Vittoria.

He'd been prepared to die That Night, if it meant ending the owner of that face…

Nicolaus swallowed, needing to talk with Ernesto's boy again.

"Just answer me a few questions," he said simply, as Mac moved forward to defend his Mate. "Did Horatio tell you what was going on?"

"Yes." Danny was positive.

"As Hunters, what would you have done?" He looked squarely at both of them. "Be honest. Spare nothing."

"She was a threat to our Head of Security and Clan Advisor," Mac answered easily. "If she continued with what she was doing, it seemed entirely possible her obsession and her inability to control it, could have resulted to in harm to either her Mate, her immediate family members, or to Horatio and his children."

Nicolaus agreed. "I had already seen that threat and was watching the situation. McCoy and Parker were assigned to keep an eye on her."

Danny stood up and stared at him. "Why didn't you tell us?" he asked, incredulous. "We're your Hunters!"

"But you were no longer in New York. Lindsay knew what was going on. She was very calm about it. She even helped by sending information to Parker about Marisol's behavior." Nicolaus reached out and gripped Danny's shoulder, feeling the coiled tension in his stance. "Lindsay was a good woman. She'll be missed." He sighed. "I suggest you go see our friendly Paramedic over there. Alan was close to her too."

Danny frowned. "He was?"

Nico's sly smile told him exactly how close they'd been.

Mac nodded.

He got it.

"We'll see to that she has a burial on Manor Grounds, as is only fitting," he continued.

"And Marisol?" Danny asked.

"Will be left where she is. I'll contact the Delkos personally. Marisol was Turned Without Consent, and they know that, but it doesn't constitute a viable excuse for her behavior. Others have suffered worse, and yet lived honorable lives afterward. She was given the option to end her existence decently, but she decided to live as a Vampire and we respected her choice. Not being able to live by our rules, but putting more than just her own life in jeopardy."

"So there will be no consequences?" Mac asked, finding that hard to believe, though he said it anyway.

Nico dropped his hand as Danny pulled back, still defensive and taut.

"I'm going to ask you to train with some Hunters from Camelot and the Medjai. These guys know about dealing with anger and the urge to kill in rage." Nico's expression stopped them from interrupting. "I'm not saying that you didn't have every right to do as you did. And you acted on instinct as a Hunter, which is only as it should be. You also acted as a friend to Lindsay and Horatio. That isn't bad either, but it cannot be your first thought at such a moment. You need to learn to listen to your instincts as a Vampire, and not react with the mind of a Human."

"Who will be training us?" Mac asked.

"Don't worry about it for now. I'll talk to Arthur and Ardeth. Believe it or not this has happened before, and it probably will again to others. But both of you are damn good Hunters, and I don't want to lose that." He stepped back. "Get back to the school and get some rest, and later I want both of you to talk to Rossi. Okay?"

Mac gave him a quick nod. "It's these moments when I realize what the others are talking about." He held out his hand.

Nicolaus took it, giving the Hunter a smile. "What's that?"

"Their willingness to die for you," Danny finished. "Would you mind if we talked more? Later on?"

"Sure." Nico nodded decisively, but was actually more startled than he would have liked to admit, by the answer Danny had given him. "When we get this Mutant thing settled."

"I'm going to go save Horatio from your irate Childe." Mac smiled as he headed away to rescue his redheaded friend from the pissed off Irishman.

Danny sighed. "I'll go find McCoy. We'll need to deal with Lindsay's things…"

Nicolaus agreed, and he turned away, there was Mal standing right behind him. "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded.

"Talking to the one and only Harvey Specter."

The man himself stepped forward through the barricades.

"You've made quite the mess, Nicolaus." He brushed dust from his five thousand dollar suit, and straightened his vest. "All over the place."

"What have you two been conspiring about?" Nico wasn't sure he wanted to know.

But still he asked.

Harvey grinned, entirely innocent. "A certain client whom I'm forbidden to mention, has asked me if there might be a way he could speak to the President of the United States, one on one, off the record. I told him I had a friend."


~ White House – Press Briefing Room ~


CJ stood in front of the assembled reporters all crammed into the tiny space that was her domain, and she wondered if there were more inside than last time.

It felt like it.

But she was waiting for them to stop screaming out questions and sit down.

Which sometimes took a while.

Ever since Toby had invaded her office, and flicked on the news to show the destruction in New York City, she had been fielding phone calls, emails, and questions.

And it was making her head spin.


***


"Terrorists?" she'd asked, not sure if she wanted Toby to say yes or no.

Bartlet was already trying to bring their troops home. If there was another Terrorist attack, there was more of a chance the same troops heading back out instead of staying put.

"In a way." He sat on the edge of her desk. "Feedback from sources that can't be revealed in any press conference ever, say that in 'theory' its a terrorist. Just not the kind the world is envisioning."

"So, Mutants then?" she whispered, even though her office door was firmly shut.

She wasn't sure exactly how her life had become more about Aliens, Vampires and Mutants, than Health Care, Education, and Environmental Policies.

But hers was certainly turning into a different kind of job than the one she'd originally signed up for.

Toby nodded. "Officially, it's plain old crackpot terrorists seeking to destroy America and our way of life."

She leaned back in her chair. "And how is that any different to other times we've faced?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. "I got nothing. Run with that. No. Don't run with that. Run with the terrorist angle. Ron's got Jed and Abbey already at Camp David. So the President is secure. Everything else, is the usual spiel."

"Do we know if the President will be briefed on the situation in New York?" she asked, as she started to scribble some notes.

"He's already been briefed by his advisers, National Security, Homeland Security, FBI, local offices, etc. etc. and will be kept up to date through out the day as the situation develops."

He stood up and gave her an encouraging smile.

"I've got it." She nodded. "Get me facts and figures to appease the hoards in the Briefing Room and we're good to go."

"On their way," he assured her. "It could be worse."

"How?" she snorted.

"It could be giant aliens from space."

CJ glared at him over her glasses, and pointed fiercely at the door.


***


"Ladies and Gentlemen!"

The ruckus died back.

"Thank you for letting me be heard." She glared stoically at the Press Corps. "As you are undoubtedly aware, and have most likely seen, there has been an act of terrorism committed once more upon the brave people of New York City. A small group of individuals, none of whom have not yet been identified, perpetrated an attack on Grand Central Station in an attempt to disrupt and destroy transportation into and out of the city. At the moment, no group has claimed responsibility for these actions, but we do not imagine this will last. The President of the United States extends his concern, his gratitude and his appreciation to the fine people of New York City, who have once more responded with enormous valor and at great personal risk, to ensure that as few people as possible, suffered from injury during this incident."

She paused for a few seconds taking a deep breath, pushing her glasses up her nose.

"Thirty five people, including six children, are currently being treated in local hospitals, for wounds resulting from falling glass, and rubble. Doctors report that none are life threatening and are mostly cuts, contusions, sprains, and broken bones. There are two reported fatalities. Names are not available at this time, as family members are yet to be notified."

She prepped herself for the inevitable barrage of questions that was about to come at her again.

"Let's start with Mr. Sampson, CNN."

"Has the President been briefed about the attacks?"

Sometimes it didn't pay to get out of bed.

"Yes, the President has been in communication with the Mayor of New York, and New York Governor's Office. At the moment the President has been moved to a secured location, which as you know, I cannot tell you, and which as you also know, is standard procedure during a terrorist event. Mr. Harold, Fox News."

She couldn't believe she'd just looked the guy straight in the face.

Really, he'd timed his flailing hand perfectly.

"What does the President have to say about Candidate Stillson's statement that this was in fact, an attack by Mutants."

Seriously?!

CJ was going to hunt Stillson down herself and strangle him with her bare hands.

"As has been previously stated, there have been no statements or claims made by any known terrorist organization, for this attack. I'm not sure which particular Science Fiction novel Mr. Stillson is getting his information from, but the White House relies on real leads and lines of communication generated by the serious people directly involved in such a situation, and everything possible is being done, even as we speak, to find those responsible for this atrocity. Next question? Mr. Ford, Washington Post."

"Will this hurt the President's plans to remove troops from Afghanistan and Iraq?"

Finally, a real concern.

"It's too early to tell at this point." She held up her hand as more questions were fired at her. "At the moment what we need to remember, are the victims of his horrendous attack. Our hearts go out to those who have lost loved ones today. Please remember as rumors flood the Internet, that New York has lost good people, and they are dealing with yet another blow that comes only years after 9/11. Keep them in your prayers and your hearts this evening and in the coming days. A tip line banner with a phone number is being tickered along your screens during news broadcasts. All reports received on that number, will be handled with the utmost professionalism by law enforcement officials, and we urge cooperation and level headed consideration during these coming hours. Another briefing will take place as soon as we have further information."

She turned and left the podium, wanting very much to go find the President's Roman friend, and beat him over the head until she found out what the hell was actually going on.


~ Crimson Moon: Board Meeting ~


Royce turned off the news footage of the attack on Grand Central Station.

He had to admit that Magneto had done a magnificent job of pissing off New York City.

It was obvious that McCoy had kept the news reporters at bay, while the White House kept the focus on good American citizens, not the terrorists.

It was a clever strategy.

He sighed as he pinched his nose, trying to curtail the headache that was coming on.

They were getting worse just lately.

He put it down to stress.

And lack of sleep.

Frankenstein was pissed.

Beyond pissed.

If there was a town somewhere past 'generally pissed' and heading toward 'completely and utterly pissed' he was there.

His ranting and raving had been heard through the entire compound.

And it hadn't just been verbal rage.

He'd felt the brunt of it for himself when he hadn't moved fast enough, and gotten backhanded for being in the way.

He seriously wasn't paid enough for taking so much shit.

Yet with a sigh, he focused back on the job at hand.

He had a duty.

And he wasn't a quitter when it got tough.

Which had actually been about…

Hmm, how many years ago?

He didn't want to think about it.

Instead he set briefing folders down at each of the so far empty chairs in preparation for their forthcoming meeting.

Honestly, he had no idea why there even was a meeting.

Magneto had gone off reservation.

Stillson was out of his bloody mind.

Nico had Xavier's School protected better than the White House.

And the President's approval rating was going up in massive leaps every day.

But sadly it wasn't his job to point out the stupidity of Frankenstein's Board Members.

It was his job to get their coffee, pick up their shit, and keep his mouth shut.

Some days he wondered what it would take to get the hell out.

Sam Gerard after all, was once his best friend, and he had Sired the son of a bitch…

"Royce!"

But that had been a long time ago, and he was paying the price for his sins in sweat, blood and guilt.

Royce blinked away the past, to see Victor standing at the door, and his chided himself for getting lost in wishful thinking, as he scuttled silently away to make him some tea.

"Where the hell is everyone?" Frankenstein demanded.

"One would think you actually run this joint," Vondoome commented briskly, as he strode into the conference room and sat down at the table. "Remember Victor, just because we're here doesn't mean you're the Boss."

"Yet I've kept you safe, and handed out money for you to use," Frankenstein pointed out. "That could be considered your employment at my service."

Vondoome rolled his eyes, feeling the exasperated gesture tug at the scar on his cheek, and he rubbed at it self-consciously. "That only works for the pathetic Humans on this Board."

Victor was ready to argue when the rest of them started to filter into the room.

Vondoome grinned at the portly Obediah Stane. "So how did that plan of yours to take out Tony Stark again, actually go this time?" he asked innocently. "Did you get your little widdy-biddy ass kicked by da baby Hunters?" He made cooing, gurgling sounds as he wiggled his fingers like a man leaning into a child's crib. "I heard the eldest Winchester withstood your paralyzer. Not bad for a kid."

Stane growled at the condescending tone, wanting to reach over and smack the crap out of the smirking idiot. But he gathered up his dignity as a mature and reasoning adult, and sat down graciously, holding his head high. "The mission was a success."

"Really?" Victoria looked over at him with elegantly arched eyebrows, as she took a seat next to Vondoome. "So it's Stark's death all over the news, instead of Magneto getting his ass kicked by Nico's merry gang of Vampires?"

"Shut up bitch." Stane glared at her. "Considering you can't even take out Benton…"

"Children!" Frankenstein slammed a fist down on the table, and glared at them all. "There are more important things to discuss than the fact that you are all pathetic losers!"

"Said the man who can't set foot in England," Vondoome snarked back. "Or Germany for that matter. Also Austria, France, Italy…"

Victor ignored the sanctimonious little shit, and focused instead on the situation at hand. "Mr. Stane? What, if anything, were you able to salvage from the raid on Tracy Island?"

Stane tossed him a Stark Industries flash drive, and smiled happily.

"What is it?" Frankenstein picked it up between forefinger and thumb, examining it like it might a minute bomb or something equally as vicious.

"A file copy for an early version of J.A.R.V.I.S.. There's enough there to build a similar foundation. But it's going to take some serious server space." Stane smirked at Vondoome's apparent speechlessness.

Victoria was lost. "Who's Jarvis?"

Royce glanced up from his spot at the end of the table in the corner. "The famous personal computer system his father built. Legend has it Tony enhanced it when he was like, two years old or something…"

"I pay you to take notes, not talk," Frankenstein said bluntly, without even glancing at his assistant.

Royce wrote down detailed notes on just how much Stane was an asshole.

"Dear Tony's been enhancing J.A.R.V.I.S. for years. But we have the basic programming, and just the right scientist to make it work for us." Stane leaned back in his chair with a satisfied sigh, and folded his hands over his belly. "Should make a nice little project for him."

"I agree. Good work Mr. Stane. Anything else?" Victor set the flash drive down next to his papers. He rarely praised anyone, so it was high commendation indeed to have said such a thing in front of so many witnesses, and Stane was preening. But not for long. "What exactly happened with Dean Winchester?"

"He was able to withstand the device with remarkable strength." Stane frowned slightly. "I admit I may have underestimated him."

As many seemed to do, from Royce had since discovered.

There wasn't much of a file yet for either Winchester brother, but the fact that he had withstood Balthazar, and come out of such an experience relatively sane, was an accomplishment few could match.

Actually only one other had ever done that before.

John Constantine.

"How did you even know he was there?" Victoria asked curiously, reaching in her purse for her nail file.

It seemed she could think better when she was doing something with her hands.

"As much as Nicolaus believes he's got spies within in our organization, so we have them within his." Victor answered easily.

"Yet he knew you were coming," Vondoome pointed out. "Or he would not have sent his Hunters to the island. And he also knew where Magneto was going to attack."

"Speaking of…" Stane glared at Frankenstein. "He's getting way out of control. He attacked Grand Central Station for god's sake! In full view of the public! People are dead!"

"The problem with Magneto, is that he thinks he knows what's going on." Frankenstein looked around at the few Board Members currently present.

"He went after Alyc," Vondoome argued. "How did he know where she would be? Tell us that!"

"I made sure he would find out." Victor was not inclined to share anything more than that. "Everything is under control."

"Really?" Angela Petrelli sneered, as she stalked into the room, her heels tapping furiously on the floor. "You call this under control?" she screeched, throwing a copy of the Wall Street Journal down on the table, where its constituent parts slid hither and yon over the polished surface. The banner headline read 'Stillson Sticks to Mutant Slime' under which sat a full page picture of the carnage at Grand Central. "Stillson has gone off the deep end. He's bleeding points as we speak. It also didn't help that someone found his connection to Gen-Cris, leading them straight back to Crimson International. Turns out The Journal and the Washington Post have some serious goddamn reporters on their staff after all! And this was announced to the world by Jed Bartlet himself! It won't take long until the Petrelli name is discovered on the Board of Directors. Or do you plan on euthanizing every journalist in DC to hide it?"

Everyone turned and stared at Frankenstein for some clarification, but their Boss was staring at Royce.

"What? I have no idea how the hell Jed Bartlet found out about Crimson International. It's your little Italian friend who has the ability to hide corporations inside corporations. Allegedly. Ask him." He refused to back down from Frankenstein's unspoken accusation.

But it wasn't the first time it had happened, and the irony of it was that Frankenstein's instincts were at least reasonably correct. But the only information Royce had leaked, was Lyca's travel plans, and that had been fully intentional.

Just not conventionally done.

At all.

"Find the leak! Do it now!!"

Royce nodded, stood up and left the room at a brisk trot, making sure he had his notes close at hand.

Victor leaned back in his chair, his anger showing for all to see.

Vondoome watched silently. It was as rare to see Frankenstein loose it publically, as it was to hear him tell someone he'd done good work. Two slips in the same day were just too much of a coincidence for a man in control of the situation, surely? But it was fun see nonetheless.

Whoever had leaked information to the Administration in Washington, was going to die a painfully agonized death. And he really, really wanted to watch.

"So now what?" he asked quietly. "Are we done?"

"It's not like we intended for him to win the election," Stane muttered, regretting the loss of his moment in the elusive spotlight of success.

"What?" Petrelli stared at them in shock. "Say that again, you bloated asshole!"

"Really?" Victoria sneered at her. "Don't play dumb. And bad language doesn't become you, Angela. Stillson as President? That's too much of a bad joke, even after Palmer got in. Though watching Nico and Timothy flail over the prospect of that happening, has been really quite entertaining."

"I gave you my eldest son!" Angela glared at Victor, ignoring the other woman's scathing assessment. "You said he would be President of the United States!"

"Newsflash, honey. Your son hates you. Actually they both do." Victoria shook her head sadly. "It was probably Nathan who told Bartlet everything. That would make complete sense."

"Don't be ridiculous, you silly little bitch. He wouldn't do that!" Angela snarled at her prattling. "He would never jeopardize his daughter by doing something so drastic."

Vondoome knew full well the older woman was seriously delusional over how much she controlled her precious boys. "Are you sure?" he asked glibly. "I mean really sure?"

"The only thing he would know for sure is the family connection to Crimson International." She pulled out a seat, and sat down with as much aplomb as she could muster. "But he wouldn't jeopardize his own name just to get even with me. He's got far too much lose."

"I somehow doubt that," Stane commented dryly, before he turned back to Frankenstein. "So now what?"

"Lose all ties to Stillson. Pull his funding and let Nico get his hands dirty dealing with the moron." Victor sighed with frustration. The situation was getting ridiculous. Hopefully Magneto would have done enough damage, that the Clans would be vulnerable from another direction entirely for some considerable time. That might then prove to be something worth some of the mess.

"And my son?" Angela demanded.

"He's useless if you can't control him," he said, apparently having regained his composure. "If you can't get him back under control, I'll deal with him. You know that."

"How dare you!" She slammed her fist against the table, making the water glasses chink. "I will not be threatened. I am Angela…"

"You're nothing," Victor said simply, calmly. "Victoria, please be good enough to remove her from the building."

"Gladly!" She stood up and moved quickly around the table pulling Angela up out of the chair.

Angela tried to slap her, but was slammed face first into the table.

"Oh, I'm sorry honey, did that hurt?" Victoria asked, with astonishingly believable sincerity.

Angela looked up at her, nose bleeding. There were tears but her eyes but she maintained a deeply rooted sense of defiant.

Victoria hauled her up by her blood stained fur wrap, and hauled her out of the room, slamming the door behind them.

"What are we going to do about her?" Vondoome asked causally.

"Nathan hates her." Stane shook his head. "He's got evidence of her involvement in some Senator's death or something. We don't need to do anything. Not really. She'll bring herself down."

"It was probably too much to hope for, letting her in here after her husband died." Victor sighed dramatically. "But the money was needed. Who could've imagined that Nathan would actually get sober, and Peter would be able to persuade his brother away from her?" He snorted. "The lesson here is to never get between siblings."

"So just let family politics take its course?" Vondoome asked casually.

"Easier than some elaborate set up," Frankenstein chuckled. "Angela really has no idea how vindictive Peter Petrelli can be."

"And what about Magneto?" Stane asked. "He's still a problem. And now that the connection between Gen-Cris and Crimson International is public knowledge, this project with the Mutants is falling apart."

"Then pull all ties to it. Let Magneto deal with Nicolaus and his group." Victor stood up and grabbed his folders before heading for the door.

"One last thing?" Vondoome smirked at Frankenstein's glare. "Sonny."

"Now what?" he demanded with a growl. He really hated that juvenile imbecile.

"He's been arrested. Again," he answered. "What do you want to do about it?"

"Nothing. Let McCoy deal with his stupidity." Victor turned and left the conference room in a hurry.

He had to fix what had gone wrong, or he was going to get his own ass handed to him.


~ New York City ~


Jack McCoy stood in front of City Hall, staring down the Press.

And they had certainly turned out in force, no one want to miss an exclusive bit of information, or a tasty nugget of gossip, rumor, innuendo and scandal.

He figured should really have been more used to having microphones shoved in his face, but it wasn't exactly a trial he was dealing with.

Instead he was trying to calm representatives of an irate media, over their removal from the sight of a major terrorist attack. And they weren't really in a helpful frame of mind.

As far as he was personally concerned, the Magneto individual, of whom Nico had spoken with such loathing, had better pray that Sylum's Clan Leader got to him first, because he wasn't in a particularly charitable mood, and was seriously considering bringing back the Death Penalty to New York, just for dealing with the bastard.

"Our own New York Police Department is collaborating with the FBI and other government agencies involved with investigating the terrorist attack on Grand Central Station." He looked out across the sea of reporters all swarming around him like flies on shit. It wasn't an attractive analogy, but it worked. "The Transit Authority has already set about checking subway line and railways tracks, and will have updates on the hour to cover which stations and lines are open or closed. Getting around for a while is going to be annoying, slow and did I mention annoying? But we're New Yorkers. We know how to deal with people who do this to us. And we never give up."

He was trying to cheer their spirit a little and get some leeway, but the typically idiotic questions he'd been expecting, came at him in less than a second and a half.

"At the moment this Office has no statement regarding Gregory Stillson's allegations that this was a Mutant attack. Last time I checked we didn't live in a Stan Lee Comic book. Next you'll be asking if I should call Batman for help and put up a signal on the roof, or send out Blade the Vampire Hunter. Though I do hear there's a reporter out here actually named Peter Parker…"

Peter grinned from the crowd, and dramatically poised as he snapped a few pictures, getting some knowing chuckles from those quick enough to get the badly veiled reference.

McCoy smiled when he felt tensions finally ease a little.

"At the moment the best we can do is let the NYPD and FBI do their jobs. New York will not let this attack stop her. She's a tough ol' gal, and her citizens will not be scared by this attack now. We are better than that. And we will prevail."

There was a round of applause when he stepped away from the microphone and headed back into the District Attorney's Offices.

Janet settled next to him, taking his hand in hers and petting his arm, giving him the support she knew he needed.

After Nico and the rest of them had left for the Professor's school, she had come back to the City to be with her Mate, needing some time to calm down after almost losing Speed.

It had been too close.

And she knew that it would haunt everyone for a while.

But Jack had just held her tight, pressing her to his chest, listening to her ramble about what had happened, expressing in words all the fears he knew she'd carry with her long after Magneto stopped being a threat. Ultimately, she had come to a place where for all her skills, her knowledge, her years of experience, and even her Vampire instinct, nothing had been of use to her, and that realization was a hard one to deal with. But she'd work her way through it.

He believed in her.

They all did.

So when the call came in about Grand Central Station, she had felt compelled to get to the hospitals who were taking emergency patients, and help out as much as she could, because at the end of the day, she was still a Doctor, a Healer, and an advocate for the helpless.

And she always would be.

But she'd paused suddenly at the door, right on the verge of heading out, only to turn around and stay with her Mate, knowing he was going to need her too, just like she had needed him.

Besides, or so she reasoned, there were more than enough Vampires and Chosen Ones running around the City, all helping deal with the situation, and they would need a good Doctor too if it came to the worst.

So she waited for them to come to her.

And she'd been ready when they did.

Most of them, in fact, were currently upstairs in Jack's offices, waiting.

Nothing was said until they stepped inside the elevator and the doors slid shut against intrusive photographs and nosey hearsayers.

"Good ploy with the Stan Lee thing," Poe said easily.

He'd been holding that very car just for them, no matter how many people glared at him for doing it, or threatened him with bodily harm for being a stubborn asshole.

Benton had sent him over the moment the train station had been cleared.

No one was sure what Magneto's next targets might be, or when, so their Clan Leaders had made sure that McCoy was secure first, given his role as such a public figure. As a Hunter, Poe didn't think the Mutants really had any damn clue about just who McCoy really was, but no one was going to take any chances, especially with Jack having been shot a few years back. "Though Parker may smack you later for that."

"It diverts attention, and gets people thinking differently. Or I hope they will, instead of listening like idiots to the drivel Stillson is spewing." McCoy rolled his eyes.

If he thought he could get away, even for five minutes, he would've arrested the dipshit for being a public menace.

"At the moment, I'm not really trusting the public masses much. Some of the things I've heard around town are insane." Poe shook his head. "And I'm talking about normal people in Starbucks. Just yesterday two moms were discussing how they were pulling their kids from school, because there might be a Mutant in the classroom. Even though there's no proof or evidence, or anything at all, supporting any of Stillson's claims. I mean, really?"

Janet growled low in her throat. "Oh yes, someone must think of the children!"

She was mocking, but it didn't sound like it.

Jack leaned over and kissed the top of her head to calm her down. "I've already got criminals saying they were acting in self-defense against Mutants. Like that's gonna have them walking on an insanity plea."

The elevator door pinged and it opened up on the office lobby, to show the rest of McCoy's crew, or so Poe had taken to calling a few of them.

Janet let go of her husband's hand when her phone began ringing.

Jack gave her a quick nod as she moved away into one of the smaller offices to take the call in private.

"Captain Deakins? You're a good, calming influence around here. What's the word on the street over all this?" he demanded. "Malone, anything on your end?"

Malone shook his head before James could speak. "FBI is focusing on all known terrorist organizations. Same routine as always. They've got it down pretty good now."

"Their view on Stillson?" he asked, as they made their way to his own office.

The moment he had gotten the warning call from Nicolaus, he'd sent all of his remaining staff home and told them to stay with their families. He'd then proceeded to issue a media lockdown around Grand Central Station, until he was informed that there were no longer any Mutants in the area.

Seriously he was getting too old for so much excitement.

First he'd had a Speed look-alike show up in the City Morgue, which led to having a psychotic Council Hunter running through the streets destroying property, and leaving blood everywhere he went.

Then he'd found out that Stillson wasn't in fact, certifiably insane, and that there were actual Mutants in the world.

And to top if all of, said Mutants were trying to ruin his City, just for the fun of it, while trying to tell the world they really were just the very threat Stillson had been warning about.

It was quite possibly the most fucked-up thing he'd ever heard in his life.

And that was saying something, given how many crazy folk he'd had to deal with in all those years before the Bar.

"Where the hell is Marisol?" he yelled, looking for his assistant and not finding her at her desk. "Why isn't she here? She's not on vacation until… Anybody seen Marisol Delko?"

He needed reliable people around him.

And she'd been trying his patience for a while.

"Dust," Janet answered, leaning against the door.

"What?" Martin asked, his jaw falling open.

"Along with Lindsay," she informed them. "They were killed in the attack."

McCoy's eyebrows rose with significant speed to be positively horrified at that particular possibility, but the look his wife gave him meant they would discuss it later. Much later. Over alcohol hopefully.

"Has anyone talked to Danny?" he asked, concerned.

He knew how much Lindsay had meant to the young Vampire, and after losing Blade and Aiden only two years before, he wasn't going to take well to losing someone else he cared about, especially as she was his Childe.

"He was there," Janet said softly, knowing they'd get the full story later, when there was more time to analyze it all.

On a personal note she felt a great many things at that moment, but she wasn't exactly bawling her eyes out over Marisol's death, and she hadn't known Lindsay well enough to offer more than a passing acknowledgement to a young life, cut down before even really beginning to explore existence as a Vampire. She knew it would hurt Danny, and she had a bit of a soft spot for him, given how he'd grown on her over the years, but she also knew his Mate would take good care of him. And that would be enough.

"One thing at a time, then." Jack nodded as he turned his attention back to the subject at hand. "What's the FBI's position on Stillson's idiocracy?"

"That he's batshit," Malone said easily. "They've said they're looking into his allegations just in case he's telling the truth, while at the same time they're investigating Gen-Cris and their role in this scheme."

"Who's running the investigation?" Jack asked, concerned that someone might start asking all the wrong things in all the wrong places.

"Mulder." Malone smirked. "Bit of a no brainer really. Everyone already knows he's batshit too. At least, those who don't know about Vampires. So far though, he's found more evidence of fraud than real live Mutants."

"Captain? What do you have?" McCoy turned to the Chosen One he'd known for years, and felt relieved that someone so steady in the face of so much stupidity, wasn't too far away when he needed him. "We got distracted just now."

They shook hands, and Deakins offered him a tired smile.

"Good and bad news," he replied, leaning against one of the desks.

"Give me the good news," the DA demanded.

"Sonny Sassone is sitting in a holding cell on Rikers." He shrugged, knowing how much Jack was going to enjoy that very special piece of information.

"The bad news?" McCoy asked, though at that precise moment nothing could possibly have dragged him away from the happy news that Sonny was within reach.

"Goren and Eames brought him in."

Major Case had received McCoy's shooting incident, and most had thought they would never solve it, given that Sonny had disappeared out of New York soon after. Of course not many understood Goren's tenacity when it came to certain things, but Deakins had learned not to get in his way over the years. Eames had been told about the situation, and had tried to keep her partner off that particular case, more for his own safety than anything else. But he'd taken it anyway, found a clue in a stack full of supposedly unrelated papers, and been led with some instinct, some poking around, and a great deal of legwork, straight to Sonny's door.

Eames had rapidly contacted their Captain and said to let McCoy know what was going on, and she'd hung up just as quickly.

"How much time do I have before Goren interrogates him?" McCoy asked, as he headed for the door.

"You've got a couple of hours. Eames is distracting him as we speak. I think she's actually quite terrified of what he might find if he starts digging into this more. But equal parts curious too. She's going to have to Turn him sooner or later though, but I'd rather it wasn't in the middle of a case, or while he's bleeding out on the floor somewhere." He shook his head. It wasn't the first time he'd mentioned that. "Of course the destruction at Grand Central Station is likely distraction enough to let you get to Sonny first." Deakins gave him a lopsided smirk. "I would take your bike."

Jack McCoy grabbed his helmet, not really caring that he was in his suit. "Call ahead and let them know I'm heading by to talk to Mr. Sassone. And make sure to have one of our own on duty."

"Already have," James told him, shrugging. "What?" he asked, as McCoy gave him a stare. " I don't get to have good cop instincts any more just because I ride a desk these days?"


~ Xavier's School for the Gifted ~


Gregory House sat on one of the comfy stools in a very expensive, state of the art laboratory, and figured he was man enough to admit that he was impressed.

So much was he impressed, that he actually wanted to come to visit Charles and play with all his shiny new toys some more.

He found it surprising that he also liked Bruce Banner, and on his current list of 'things to be impressed with', the green rage thing he had going on was also pretty high up there. The Doctor was quiet, smart, and knew what the hell he was talking about.

Which was always a plus.

He also refused to rise to snarking, poking and annoying whenever House tried his best material on him.

Now that took some self control.

Which was also impressive.

"I've worked with Tony Stark, Dr. House." Bruce smiled at him shyly. "Your snark is pretty good, but Tony can hit every last nerve and all my buttons in one shot."

House snorted in disgust. "Well then, I'm clearly going to have to work harder."

Neville looked up from the microscope he'd been peering into. "You're going to work harder at being an asshole?"

Gregory just smirked. "Everyone needs to set a goal."

"Are you like this all the time?" Jean asked curiously from her own workstation.

"Yes, he is," Wilson answered politely, smiling over at his Mate and blowing a raspberry. "It's part of his charm. Can you hand me that slide?"

House handed him the entire packet of slides that covered Speed's blood work.

Between him and Janet, they had been steadily assembling over the years, an extensive medical history of all the Vampires they got their hands on, and not just within Sylum Clan. It hadn't been easy, and was definitely still an ongoing project, but such a database seemed to have been coming in handy for studying the affects of the so-called 'Cure'.

They had plenty of samples of Timothy Quinn's blood that had been taken before, during and after the event.

Vampire Blood had a tendency to disintegrate into dust fairly rapidly unless it was treated with a particular preservative, discovered by Marie Curie less than ten years ago. It wasn't viable for vast samples, but was sufficient for allowing lab work. Its use had helped revolutionize Vampire Medical Science, and she had gone on from there to currently researching the mechanism which triggered Dusting.

Neville settled easily into working with Jean, pull the DNA profiles on each set of blood samples. Consuming cloned blood, made it easier to eliminate the DNA of the blood donor, given that the Cloning process naturally created flaws in the sequence over time that were fairly straightforward to identify. But the blood in a Vampire's veins had been found to contain a number of other things too, and trying to determine the host's DNA in all of that, was impossible. Biting someone, and drinking their blood, naturally transferred that person's DNA into the host for a start, making it appear that the host was in fact, someone else entirely each time they drank from a different person. That blood permeated tissue of every variety, just as it did with Human beings, and made tissue sampling pointless too.

Getting a Vampire's DNA itself, required analysis of saliva, direct from the mouth, for which Timothy had submitted to the appropriate sample collection with rolled eyes and snark-infested Gaelic.

And once again, Dr. Gregory House found himself using the work of Dr. Gregory Sanders, to isolate the appropriate material.

Sanders was a genius to have figured out that Vampire Saliva wasn't influenced by the DNA in a Vampire's veins, but he refused to accept that someone so young, could ever be that smart all by himself. So in his own mind, he credited the overall Hunt for Jack the Ripper with such a discovery instead.

Banner was still studying the 'Cure' itself, pulling it apart to find the components that made it work.

Jean sat back, stretched her aching neck a little, and looked at her computer screens. She then pulled up images from some of her own blood work. "Dr. Neville? Could you look at these two samples?"

He scooted over on his own stool, sliding in beside her. "Okay, who am I looking at?"

"The one on the right is from Mr. Quinn. The one on the left is mine." She leaned over and clicked the mouse until a new screen came up comparing the two lines of DNA more precisely. "I'm working with your theory that the Vampire Gene overlays onto elements of the Human Genome, making the person into a Vampire, overriding the original genetic intent as it were, as if correcting flaws and weaknesses in Human design. In a way I can see how it seems to simulate the Mutant Gene, hence the 'Cure' appearing to work at first. But Dr. Wilson's theory also seems to be correct, in that the Vampire Gene would eventually prevail over the 'Cure' but it would take too long to save the patient."

"So re-Turning Speed forced the Vampire Gene to work quicker. Yes, we get that." Neville looked up at her and then back at the screen.

"Right. Indeed so." Jean nodded. "Speed is proof of that happening. And we can see in the slides from blood samples taken during the re-Turning, that the Gene acts in a very aggressive way during that time period. But I was curious to see what elements the Vampire and Mutant Genes might have in common, to help with breaking down the components of the 'Cure'."

Banner looked up from his note taking. "What did you get?"

"I did find something, but it's not like anything I've ever seen before, and I've been studying the Mutant Gene for over a decade."

Banner stood up, to go peer over Neville's shoulder. "What are we looking at specifically?"

She highlighted a code in both DNA profiles.

They were perfect matches.

"Its present in both the Mutant DNA and Vampire DNA." She pulled up Neville's own blood work and also Banner's to show for comparison. "This is you Robert. Do you see? And here is Bruce, but it's not there in him."

"Because I'm not a Mutant," he pointed out patiently. "I did explain that, didn't I?" For a moment he wasn't entirely sure.

"Yes you did, and I realize that your situation is not normal either. So I have a Human sample for use as a base line comparison, taken from one of the men who work here in the gardens." She pulled it up on the screen. "Now, compare it with my husband's blood work…" She pulled that up too for them to see. "And there it is again."

"So we have a common code in the DNA of the Mutant and Vampire Gene, but not in any Human Gene," Neville concluded. "Fascinating."

House and Wilson both moved across the lab to take a look too.

House pushed Banner aside, then shoved Neville slightly over as he studied the code. "I've seen this before."

Wilson glared at him. "When?"

"Janet's files. We were discussing, hypothetically, an illness that swept through the personnel at an Air Force Base." He poked at Neville until he got up of the stool and made way for him to sit down. "Do we have Shep's blood work on hand?"

"No," Neville grouched.

"Then get flyboy in here now. If I'm correct on this, and I usually am correct, we might have just found a link between Vampires and Mutants." House grabbed his phone and dialed Janet's number.

Wilson left the lab to go search for the other Vampire.

'Gregory?' She sounded tired.

"Who's an expert on the Ancient Gene?" he asked.

'I'm not going to even ask how you know about that, but Rodney and Radek were the ones doing studies on it last I knew,' she answered simply. 'Why? What's going on?'

"Fun stuff is going on," he replied, quickly filling her in and what Jean had just discovered.

'Shep has the Ancient Gene. It's one of the reasons he got sent. You have a secure connection?'

"Are these servers secure here? Can we upload information without it being hacked by the bad guy of the week?" he asked, not really looking away from the genetic data on the screen.

Jean snatched the phone from him. "Hi, I'm Jean Grey. How can I help you?"

Janet's chuckle rang softly in her ear.

'Hi, Jean. I'm Janet. I need to send you some information. It goes above Top Secret as far as anyone else is concerned.'

"Our servers in this facility are of an experimental design, but more than secure enough for your needs." She proceeded to explain what was required, and they chatted away like old friends, as she watched the relevant file names appear in their designated directories.

"Thank you so much Doctor Barton. Yes, tea would be good. I look forward to it…" Jean handed the phone back to House and winked at him primly.

"We're having a moment here, and you're making play dates?" Gregory teased.

'I'm being friendly. You should try it some time,' Janet snarked back. 'If you get something interesting from what I just sent you, make sure and share it. I don't want to have to get your Mate to beat it out of you for me.'

And with a yawn, she hung up.

He stared at his cell for a moment. "I'd say that was PMS if she wasn't a Vampire."

"And she'd be decapitating you right now if she didn't love your Mate," Neville chuckled.

House snorted, but his immediate attention was drawn to the files that Jean began pulling up. They contained blood sample analysis from personnel working on the Stargate Program. There were no names, only registry numbers.

She'd just begun the necessary comparisons, checking line of code, when Wilson returned with Johnathon D'Artagnian in tow.

"Every time I get summoned to the lab it ends bad for me." Shep stood, arms crossed over his chest refusing to move from the door. In black jeans and a black t-shirt, he was a little foreboding, and his stare was meant to be intimidating, but every Doctor in the room simply stared straight back. "This evil scientist thing you guys got going on, is not helping the bad feeling. Just thought I should mention that."

"Need your blood." Neville moved around the table, grabbing the necessary phlebotomy kit from a drawer in one of the cabinets that lined the walls.

"Why?" he asked, as he dropped his arms and held his right one out; something he had done time and time again on Atlantis.

"Ancient Gene," Banner answered. "Though I have no idea what that means. Supposedly you're meant to have it."

"Yeah…" Shep hesitated, looking shifty. "Though maybe I should call Rodney." He was highly uncomfortable with hearing that particular secret mentioned by someone he'd barely met.

Neville worked with the smooth practice of many years, and unhooked the tourniquet in a matter of moments, eyeing the fresh samples he had taken, as he trashed the soiled sharps, and got to work.

Jean smiled triumphantly when the computer finished processing the data that Janet had sent.

"Well look at what we have here. A perfect match," he sighed.


***


Rodney looked at his Mate via on the video screen. "So you want me to drop everything and come explain simple DNA coding to supposed scientists who may have found the code to all things Vampire and Mutant?" he asked, for the second time.

Or was it third?

"Yes, Rodney." Shep smiled at him graciously. "You're the expert…"

"Of course I am! Why they thought they could it without me is just unbelievable!" He rolled his eyes. "Well, you happen to be in luck. Ronon is on his way back from Mexico, bringing one of his Mates. Not sure which, nor do I really care, but when he gets here I'll get on a plane."

"Thanks, Rodney."

"You owe me! I had a fun filled day of educational games planned for Torren and the redhead's rugrats. I mean, did you know they don't even know how to write yet? What is the educational system coming to…?"

The screen went black.

Shep blinked over at Josiah, who just shrugged. "Oh! Did I hang up on him? My bad. I seem to have lost the picture he drew for me on how all this stuff works."

"You're going to hold that against him for a long time aren't you?"

"Yep," Border's Clan Leader answered easily, as he put in the next call to General O'Neill. "By the way, you do realize all the Clan Leaders know about the Stargate Program, right?"

"Yeah. Figured that out in Egypt. Has it got through the rest of the Clan structure, or is it just the Ruling Councils?" Shep asked curiously.

He still hadn't really told his Children much about where he'd been for the past few years.

"Just Clan Leaders and anyone who was fighting in Egypt and thought to ask more than the basics. I know Neo hasn't mentioned it to Daniel, but someone may need to talk to Brian and Dom about where exactly Ronon is from." Josiah gave him a meaningful glare.

He was thrilled that the two of them had found a third Mate, but at the same time seriously concerned over how much more complicated it was going to make things.

"D'Artagnan!" O'Neill called cheerfully from the screen as the link on the other end was connected. "Nick's not been kidnapped has he?"

"Not yet. Give it a few more days," John smirked back. "I need a favor."

"Does it have anything to do with rumors about there being Mutants running around?" Jack asked, a grin on his face. "Because we all know nothing strange or untoward happens without the Government or the American People knowing about it."

"I might need Radek."

"You want me to go through the hassle of pulling him from Atlantis so you can catch up on the latest gossip?" O'Neill was suddenly a lot more serious.

"I'm not quite sure what the scientists here are going on about, but he may have some helpful insight that could aid us in dealing with rumors about Mutants running around," Shep explained.

"I'll get back to you," was all Jack would say further, as he turned off the connection.

John looked over at Josiah and sighed. "So now we wait."


~ New York: Riker's Island ~


McCoy walked into the prison quite boldly, heading straight up to the guard on duty and set his briefcase down on the counter top.

"I'm here to see Sonny Sassone."

"It's a little late for visiting hours," the guard stated flatly, as he set the sign-in sheet in front of the District Attorney.

"He has information vital to a few of my cases," he answered, signing where indicated, and grabbing his bag.

"How did you get here so fast? He was only brought in a few hours ago, just before everything went to crap at Grand Central."

The guard buzzed him through the first gate.

"Shoved papers in my case, flipped it on my back, and grabbed my bike," he answered honestly. "Knew cycling would pay off one day. Did I mention he was vital to a few of my cases? Tell me he's not lawyered up yet."

The guard smirked as he buzzed McCoy through the second gate. "'cause sadly its going to take a while before his attorney gets here, considering transportation in this town just came to a screeching halt."

McCoy gave him a quick wink and a salute. "They wife and kids safe at home?"

"They were visiting her parents out in Queens. They're going to stay there for a while," he sighed in relief

He had always liked McCoy. As much as the guy was a hard ass, he really did take the time to know those who worked for him, and around him. He deserved some credit for that. He also fought for the victims to the point of exhaustion.

He had seen him a few times, with bags under his eyes, working long hours at both ends of the day, to make sure he put the scumbag of the week away for good.

That made him worth some polite conversation in his book.

District Attorney McCoy made his way down the familiar echoing corridors, to the holding cells.

As he passed another guard, he paused for a second and set his briefcase down.

The guard gave him a nod and smile, then set down his own duffle bag down next to the briefcase.

Jack picked up the duffle bag and headed onward to the corridor, where he turned left.

The guard tucked the briefcase under his desk.

The tiny red light on the security camera over his station, flicked just a little bit, but stabilized.

He made a note to get it checked.

Budget cutbacks were always sucking.

In the mean time, the DA moved to the last cell on the row.

He opened the door and stepped inside.

Given that it was illegal to record conversations between those charged with a crime, and their legal representatives, there were no cameras to worry about.

"Hello, Sonny." Jack realized he was sounding almost cheerful as he set the duffle bag on the table.

"Well, if it isn't Mr. District Attorney." Sonny sneered at him. "What brings you by? Missed me?"

"Carrying out your sentence." He pulled a pair of disposable gloves from his pocket, and slipped them on with a nasty snapping noise, then unzipped the bag and pulled out a sword.

Sonny's eyes went wide, before he bluffed his way through a smile. "Nice try old man! Very funny joke! But there ain't shit you can do to me. It's against your precious laws."

"Actually, Mr. Sassone, you were tried and found guilty of crimes against Sylum Clan. Since I'm a member of their Council, I have the authority to carry out their sentence." Jack smiled as he let the sword settle into his grip.

Lennie had taught him how to fight with such a blade, long ago.

Not that he'd ever had much need for it.

"I can give you information." Sonny tried to persuade the older man, the links on his cuffs, rattling against the table he was secured in front of. "Got info on Frankenstein and that bitch Victoria."

"Oh, you mean that she's working with him?" Jack replied, as he moved around the table. "We know that. Or did you mean about the Mutants? We know that too."

Sonny scrambled back as much as he could, but being handcuffed to the chair, that wasn’t far. "How about that bitch Marisol? You know she was sleeping with Van Doome, right? She was the one who told him Speedy boy was going to be at the docks…"

"Thank you for that. It should clear a few things up," he said, positioning himself 'just so'.

A single swing was all it took to remove Sonny's head.

The cuffs and chains hit the floor, before the dust began settling.

McCoy sighed, wiped the sword and put it away, then grabbed a paper clip and jimmied open the appropriate end of the cuffs, leaving the clip inside the keyhole.

He then pushed the table back, making it look like Sonny reached for the vent up on the wall.

With some manipulation and a little creative posing, he pulled the vent cover off and tugged out some of the casing to make it look like an escape route. It would've been a tight fit, but not an impossible one.

He zipped the bag shut with a flourish, and pulled his gloves off, shoving them in his suit pocket.

Taking a moment to swipe the dust off his coat, he then made his way back down the corridor, pausing long enough next to the same guard he'd already passed, to setting down the duffle bag and exchange it for his briefcase.

The guard would be transferred out of the New York area the following morning, to a new location of his choosing.

Less than 90 seconds later, McCoy stood in front of the first gate, a scowl on his face.

"That was fast," the guard who signed him in commented dryly.

"He already lawyered up." Jack shook his head. "Just refused to talk about anything until is lawyer gets here."

"Criminals getting too smart these days," he said, with a knowing nod, as he buzzed the District Attorney through to his desk. He handed him the sign-out sheet. "It's those courtroom dramas they have on TV."

"I kinda like that one about the District Attorney in Los Angeles." McCoy gave a soft sigh. "It's not bad. You going home soon?"

"Ten minutes and I'm checking out. Gonna to head out to the in-laws, then got a couple of days off." He took the sheet back and set it back under the counter. "You be careful out there."

"I will!"

Jack gave him a wave and stepped out of the prison, heading for where he'd left his bike.

He figured he should be back in his office just in time to get a call telling him that Sonny Sassone escaped.


~ Next Morning ~


Robert Goren fidgeted in his seat as Alexandra Eames drove them out to Rikers.

The news was full of nothing but the terrorist attack on Grand Central Station.

He shook his head and shut the radio off.

"Don't like the news this morning, Bobby?" Eames smiled over at him.

He rolled his eyes. "It's like listening to War of the Worlds."

"So you don't believe in Stillson's claims about Mutants?"

"Oh, I think he's right about Mutants. I mean man evolves, right? So why not have Mutants? He's just sensationalizing all of it for the votes." He shrugged, trying to relax in his seat, but he could see his partner's expression without even needing to look at her. "You don't believe in Mutants?"

"I believe what I see," she admitted. "It seems too Sci-Fi to me."

"Nothing weirder than we've dealt with before," he pointed out, emphasizing the word 'we'. "We had that case with the Vampires. Who said that was all fake?"

Alexandra stopped at a red light and looked over at him.

She had spent the last few years of her life, trying to figure out how the hell she was meant tell him the truth.

About herself.

About Vampires.

That he was her Mate.

There was just never a good moment.

The past year had been hard on both of them, straining their professional and personal relationship beyond all belief, but she wasn't going to give up on him, even if at times he seemed to give up on himself.

"Eames?"

She blinked and shook her hair out of her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Light is green." He pointed at it just to make sure she saw.

With an exaggerated sigh, she focused back on the road, getting a couple of annoyed gestures from other road users for her tardiness.

"So what information do you think this Sonny character has that can help us with McCoy's case?" She sure as hell wasn't going to tell him that Sonny was the one who'd actually shot their DA., unless he figured it out for himself.

Which he probably had.

Eames had no doubt that McCoy was already taking care of the situation, but if Sonny were to somehow 'disappear' all of a sudden, she had no idea how she'd keep her partner away from pushing at it, and finding everything out for himself.

Though she wondered then whether that might not be as bad an idea as she'd feared. After all, she'd have to tell him the truth at some point. Why not do it once he found it out for himself?

"I found his name connected to an attack on Detectives Taylor and," he muttered to himself, consulting his folio, "Messer. Links to the Messer family all over the place. He was arrested but escaped. Then his name came up again in association with the kidnapping of a Detective Monroe…"

"Lindsay Monroe?" she asked.

McCoy had kept her up-to-date on local Vampire incidents around New York, but she had to admit to herself she probably didn't know the all the details.

She'd naturally heard about Blade, but hadn't gone down to New Orleans for the funeral, having not really had too much dealing with either him or his Mate.

Instead she'd flown out to Miami to see her old friend Sam, and have drinks with him, mourning those they'd lost to the Battle of Hamunaptra by drowning their sorrows in alcohol. It had hit him hard, losing Jack Aubrey that way, and made her question what it would feel like if she ever lost her own Sire.

They'd bitched long and hard about having their Mates so close and yet so far away, while holed up in some seedy hotel room, letting off their tensions, and trying to figure out how to put things right.

Not that the sex was bad…

But the hangover had been particularly hard to shake off.

"Yes." Goren gave her his trademark, 'tell me everything you know right now or I'll get it out of you one way or another' look.

"Her name was on the casualty list," Eames informed him. "I saw it on the memo that went through Major Case."

"Oh?" Goren stared out the window for a moment. "Maybe this Sonny knows something about the attack on Grand Central?"

"He's just a thug. Doubt he's ever been high up in anything big in his life," Eames warned him, as they pulled across the water, and into the parking lot at Rikers.

"With previous attacks on a variety of NYPD officers? He knows something," he said positively, getting out of the car. "And he's not the smartest brain on the planet, so maybe we can get more information out of him before the lawyers get involved?"

Alexandra Eames just nodded, tucking stray locks of hair behind her ear as she got out of the car. She sent a quick text message to McCoy, and a few moments later got confirmation to her query.

Sassone had been taken care of.

She sighed heavily, deleted the text, then clipped her phone back on her belt.

They entered the prison and approached the front guard.

"We're here to see Sonny Sassone," Eames said flatly.

"You didn't hear?" The guard snorted.

"Hear what?" Goren asked, instantly troubled by the guy's attitude, though you'd never have known it from the pleasant smile on his face.

"Sassone disappeared last night. No one's sure how, but evidence suggests he broke out of the room through an air vent. No idea how he squeezed his fat ass in there, but," he shrugged, "there's been hell to pay."

"Did anyone come by and see him last night?" Goren set his folio on the counter, reaching straight over for the previous night's sign-in sheet.

The guard flailed at him. "Yo! Dude! What the fuck? You can't have that?"

"Yes I can," Goren replied, still smiling as he scanned the signatures on the clipboard. "Who's that?"

He pointed to a line that was the last visitor logged.

"A Jack McCafferty. He came by to see his client," the guard muttered, glaring at the badly scrawled signature. "Probably some lawyer."

"A little late to see a client," Eames commented, taking the sign sheet as her partner handed it off.

The guard just shrugged. "I wasn't here."

"Who's the client?" Goren asked, snatching it back from her. "Neal Caffrey? Wait! Wasn't he released a year ago? He works with FBI on some White Collar Squad…"

Alexandra Eames was going to smack Jack McCoy herself for being an idiot.

Never, ever give Robert Goren something he could latch onto and obsess about. When that happened, it was like watching a cat with a ball of string, tugging at a stray thread until everything unraveled and he could figure out what the problem was.

"He's probably got a few clients," the guard replied. "Musta got them mixed up. I'll see who was on duty and ask him."

"Thanks." Goren put the clipboard down, and looked at his partner. "Something stinks here."

She just nodded, knowing there was nothing she could even remotely dream of, that might get him to let go of it.

Really? Neal Caffrey?!

She could've headdesked right there, and not given a damn about the cameras watching.


~ Camp David – Evening ~


Charles looked around the simple, but elegantly tasteful living room.

The Presidential getaway had been built between 1935 and 1938, and became an official Presidential retreat in 1942 under Roosevelt. Since then every man to ever hold the Office, had used it as a place to conduct business with foreign diplomats, hold world summits, or just get away from it all.

Even Ernesto Olivetti would've been in full approval of its security measures, it was just that well protected.

Jed Bartlet liked the place. It was rustic. It gave him a chance to slouch around in sweats, and there were no press lurking nearby to snap inappropriate pictures of him sneaking a quick smoke on the balcony while the First Lady went jogging.

He loved his Notre Dame sweats. Abbey always said it was the blue. It was flattering for an old man.

He snorted when he turned back inside, flipping his cigarette butt into one of the water glasses, so he could blame someone else if she found him upping his nicotine intake.

But five minutes of peace had cleared his head, and he plopped himself down in one of the big leather armchairs by the window, narrowly avoiding a precarious stack of papers on the side table, and almost knocking his glasses into his lap.

Abbey had left him a carafe and a small cup of pills on the coffee table, right in front of his face where he couldn't possibly say he'd missed them. Her warning look, that he'd better take them or risk her wrath, had Charles biting back a chuckle when Nicolaus gave him the self same look.

But Nico didn't let up until the President took his damn pills.

When they'd arrived, Sylum's Clan Leader had made sure that his Papa was comfortable, before settling into the couch across from Jed, and it seemed obvious by the way the older Vampire moved around the place, that he'd been to Camp David quite a few times.

Warrick had retreated to the kitchen to talk with to Leo, who was not happy about being asked to leave the room. He wasn't accustomed to being treated that way, and he had no problem voicing his ire.

Warrick however, had also shown his own displeasure at being dismissed, and Charles had no doubt he would be talking to his Mate later, in pretty much the same way Leo would be grilling Jed.

"Professor Xavier?" President Bartlet smiled at his guest. "Dr. McCoy has told me great many things about you."

"All of good I trust." Charles returned the smile, sensing nothing untoward from the gentle introductions.

"He speaks of you highly," Jed answered. "And of course, it's always good to see my Roman friend over here."

"Mr. President." Nicolaus sat back into the couch, relaxing as the soft leather embraced him.

"For the moment, it's Jed," he said easily. "So why don't we get to what we're really here to discuss so our significant others can stop talking about us behind our backs."

"Would that be Abbey or Leo?" Nicolaus teased, hearing the First Lady get back to the Lodge.

"Both! They get this tag team thing going…" Jed grinned and shook his head but his voice certainly spoke volumes about how much they meant to him. "Professor?"

"Charles," he said simply, "please."

"Charles, what threat are these Mutants?" he asked, wanting the facts.

"Mutants are no more a threat than Vampires. You did not know of their existence until one was on your doorstep. Today is much the same, and like the Vampire Community, there are good and bad Mutants." He disliked having to oversimplify the issue, but wanted to start slowly. "Magneto wants the freedom to be who he is, and does not care who he hurts to get that freedom. He suffered significantly as a boy in the Concentration Camps during the Second World War, but he is not to be underestimated. He believes Mutants to be superior to Humans, and while in some ways that might be said to be so, he is intent upon bringing that debate into the general domain by any means possible."

Jed nodded. "So they are a considerable threat. As President I need to be kept informed of these things."

"No." Nicolaus shook his head. "With all due respect, if Magneto and Stillson had not exposed the existence of Mutants, however badly, you would have never known about it." He held up his hand seeing the argument unfold. "My own Second didn't know about it until the threat arose. We are very good at keeping secrets."

"Vampires are far more easily hidden in society," Charles continued, picking up on Nico's thoughts. "Not every Mutant can hide in plain sight with for example, wings, or scales, or a tail. And unlike Vampires who have strict rules concerning the Turning of children, there are children involved in our Community, especially as many Mutations only appear during puberty as the body changes. Parents, families, entire social structures sometimes, are not as forgiving when they find the children in their midst are not entirely meeting expectations."

"The same can be said of a great many things, Professor, not just Mutation," Jed replied.

"Certainly. Racism is still apparent in areas of the country. The LGBT Community are freely and openly denied the same rights given to others. And those with different colored skin, or strange religious practices are often the victims of prejudice. That which is different, is not easily accepted. It all takes time."

"Of course. We have to educate ourselves better. No one can argue with that. But when you're different, the idea of a cure, however it comes, would seem like the answer to everything." He sat up in his seat and looked at the two men. "Is there one? Is it real?"

"They tried to cure Timothy." Nico's voice dropped to a low growl, and the memory of nearly losing his boy, caught at every emotion he possessed until Charles reached out to him gently, unseen and unknown by the President, to calm and reassure him. "Their 'Cure' almost killed him. So is it really what they say it is?"

"But he was a Vampire not a Mutant so it didn't work like it was supposed to…" Jed hesitated slightly. "Or am I wrong? I'm not exactly briefed on a regular basis about Vampire Medicine."

"We have scientists studying this 'Cure' and the difference between the Vampire and Mutant Genes," Nicolaus informed him. "But from the little I've been able to get out of Dr. Neville, the two are connected to a much older Gene, and they are studying that now to try and unravel what the 'Cure' consists of."

Jed nodded. "So in theory there is a 'Cure', but having it in the hands of this Magneto person, makes it more of a threat."

"Yes. He will wield it as a weapon," Charles added, "not as a choice. The 'Cure' itself comes from a boy whose Mutation lies in the fact that he can block the Mutant Gene."

"He was the one kidnapped with Speed."

"I understand. As I told you before when we talked on the phone, I would like to see him found. His innocence in all this, is without question, and I will not allow a child to be used a political weapon. Not for anyone's cause. But what I don't understand is why Magneto would even want a cure at all. If he's that intent on giving Mutants social freedom as you say, then why even bring up the fact that there is a 'Cure'?"

"That would imply Magneto and Stillson are working together," Charles explained. "And such has yet to be determined."

"He's being as manipulated as much as he's manipulating." That was the only conclusion Jed could draw. "Clever. But who's pulling the strings if not one of them on the other one?"

"Follow the money," Nicolaus replied. "We're working on it. Crimson International is a complicated affair."

"Stillson's an idiot. But he's not a total idiot," Jed growled, showing the contempt he held for his opponent.

"He won't be President." Nico spoke firmly and without hesitation, drawing a furious scowl to Jed's face. "Focus on your Campaign. Do exactly what you have been doing, and talk about the real politics. Trust that the American People will see through all the bullshit, and turn back to the reality of their own lives; then let us deal with the rest."

"I really don't want to know what you're intending, do I?" he asked, just because he had to.

"Not really, sir. No."

Jed leaned back in his chair and nodded. It was a hard thing for someone in his position to admit when there was really nothing he could do. But just lately he was starting to get disturbingly used to the sensation. He grabbed an anonymous looking flash drive that was sitting on the stack of papers by his elbow, and handed tossed the little gadget at Nicolaus.

"Then speaking of secrets, you should know that someone hacked into Charlie's computer."

His 'bodyman' had almost had a heart attack at the audacity of it, but stranger things were happening lately.

"Whoever it was, left me this information, addressed to me personally, about Gen-Cris and Crimson International. I'd love to hand this over to the Secret Service, but something tells me it's going to be far more valuable in your hands than mine. Oh, and if you find who did it? Tell them to write me a letter next time. I don't do email."

Nicolaus stood up and examined the flash drive. "I'll get our guys on it." It was a disturbing prospect that someone had sent material straight to the President of the United States, but just maybe, they had a friend somewhere…

Jed clambered to his feet and shook his friend's hand, then walked over to Charles and took his, squeezing it firmly. "I would like to talk more with you, Professor. When we both have more time to focus on philosophy and ethics, instead of the politics of the day, I wouldn't mind finding out what it is that makes you so very sensitive to something so very special."

"I would like that too, Mr. President." Charles nodded tightly, but his smile was quiet genuine. "Trust him," he said softly, as Nicolaus left the room, and they could see him talking quietly with Warrick in the hallway. "He's the one who will do the right thing when others choose do nothing at all."

Jed had learned to accept the instincts of the Vampires he knew.

To have ignored them, would have been to greatly discredit them all.

"Mr. President?" Nicolaus bowed his head. "I shall keep you as informed as I can. But this has to play out."

"Thank you, Nico." He walked over to the window, watching as the Mated Pair escorted Charles back out to a waiting van, helping him inside the vehicle and securing his chair.

He stayed by the window until the van was out of sight.

Turning at last, he focused on Leo. "So what do you want to do?"

"Concentrate on reality. Economics. The War. Healthcare. Education. Let's dig out all that fire we used to throw during the Primaries." Leo sat down on the couch, rubbing his chest.

He popped a few more antacids and drank down some water, silently cursing the shrimp he'd eaten the night before. "We do not play in Stillson's game. Ever."

"So how do we not lie?" he asked seriously, watching his friend with some concern. "Are you okay? You look sick as a dog."

Leo shrugged and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. "I'm fine. Now let's get down to business."

The two of them sat for hours, talking, arguing; discussing theories, debating options and scenarios. They realized they actually had more information than they'd imagined. But none of it was written down. It was all second hand. And it was all ultimately deniable. Even the flash drive he'd handed over with the anonymous hacker's data on it, had been the only copy they'd gotten.

Charlie had said something technical about it only allowing itself to be transferred and not printed, duplicated or otherwise tampered with.

It was a bit like trying to strategize with a bowl of jello.

Nothing would stick.

Everything would make them look bad if they played into it.

And none of it did any good.

In the end, Leo looked at his friend, and sighed. The late nights and the stress were starting to take a toll on his body. He wasn’t exactly a young man any more. He'd felt sick to his stomach for hours, and he knew that telling Jed to go to bed would be pretty futile unless he got Abbey involved. But that was a whole new stress he wasn't in the mood for.

Instead he stood up and stretched his aching back. His shoulders felt tight. And his chest was aching like he'd run a marathon somewhere. "I'm going for a walk."

"This late at night?" Jed snapped.

"We've been at this for hours and we're getting absolutely nowhere! You're too stubborn to call it quits for the night, and I need some air before I do something stupid and take a damn drink!" Leo muttered, as he stalked out of the living room, heading straight for the French doors that lead out to the wooded footpaths and waterfalls of Camp David.

He followed the lights across an arched wooden bridge, heading further into the trees.

The suddenly seemed weirdly tall against the sky, looming over him as he tried to work his way past the ferns and long grasses.

He'd lost the narrow track somewhere.

Lost in thought; trying to get his brain around everything that had happened in the past four years, his mind refused to settle.

Vampires.

Living Myths.

Toby and Sam.

Maximus Decimus Meridius.

Egypt.

Mutants.

He wasn't sure how his life had come so far past falling into a pit of utter insanity, but he had trusted Jed from the beginning, just as Jed had trusted him that day at the State House in New Hampshire when he'd handed him that damned napkin with 'Bartlet for America' scrawled across it.

God, he'd been so sure of himself.

Of them.

Together.

In the White House…

A sharp pain shot down his left arm.

He suddenly realized he was panting.

He couldn't breathe.

Gripping his chest, he screamed silently to the Heavens for help that never came.

And as he fell into the undergrowth, eyes closing for the last time, his final thought was of his oldest friend, his truest friend.

His only real and lasting friend.

Josiah Edward Bartlet.


~ Next Morning ~


Nicolaus groaned as he rolled over and grabbed his phone.

Warrick muttered softly, feeling his Mate slip out of his arms.

"Hello?" he mumbled, having totally failed to even check the caller ID.

'Nicolaus?'

And he with that, he was suddenly wide awake.

Sitting bolt upright in the bed, he held the phone closer to his ear. "Maximus what's going on?"

'Leo McGarry had a heart attack. Abbey called me as they were making their way to the hospital. Jed had fallen asleep in the living room and failed to notice when he didn't come back from a walk in the grounds. I've spoken to him. He's devastated, but he won't tell you that.'

"What hospital?" he asked, closing his eyes as he sent a prayer up to the Gods.

'Georgetown University. I'm on my way there now. I'll be staying in Washington until the election is over.'

"Thank you. Is he going to make it?" Nico asked, getting out of the bed.

'He was down for a long time, lying outside. They only found him this morning. Abbey's always hopeful. It's what Doctor's do. But she's a realist. So, I'll let you know.'

"What would you like me to do? Name it. It's done."

'Let me take care of this Nicolaus. You take care of Stillson. Just get it done fast. This has gone on long enough.'

And with that Maximus hung up.

Nico set the phone down on the nightstand and dropped his head in his hands. He could deal with a lot. Stress was nothing new to him after all, but there was a part of him that wondered just what the hell else could go wrong.

The other part however, knew better than to ask.

Warrick eased up behind his Mate, pulling him into his arms, sliding them both back between the still warm sheets.

"Sleep, my General," he murmured, as Nico shifted in his embrace to lie more comfortably. "You can do no more for now."


~ Xavier's School for the Gifted ~


"So Mister 'Mutant Who Wants To Rule The World' has a cure that isn't fool proof. Hell, I'm not even sure if it'll work long term without having the subject revert to original." House rolled his eyes as he addressed the group that had gathered for a briefing.

He glanced around the conference table, knowing he was surrounded by some of the most devious, clever, and vindictive individuals in the world.

God, but he really wanted a front row seat to watch whatever they were going to do to this Magneto dude.

He'd pay good money to a kick of his own in there too.

Not that it would be allowed happen, but a boy could dream.

No one tried to kill one of his own, right under his nose.

Not that he would ever tell Speedy he considered him one of his own.

He had a reputation to maintain after all.

Warrick sat with Nicolaus, next to the Professor, paying close attention.

Gregory was still trying to figure out the strangeness of that little relationship right there, but knew he wasn't high enough on the food chain to be privy to it unless it came out as gossip. He was good for the gossip.

Sitting next to Charles was Laser-Eye Boy, safely tucked behind a new pair of specs. Jean Grey was a smart, sophisticated, remarkably intelligent woman, but her husband was the typical jock, who had apparently found friendship in Jimmy Hickok, of all people!

He was going to get far too much enjoyment out of riling both of them up over that.

Jimmy rarely responded to him, though on occasion he could snark back with vicious candor.

House blamed Speed.

Actually he blamed Speed for a lot of things.

Scattered around the conference table were the other Clan Leaders, with their Hunters all lined up against the wall.

All of them were in prickly protective overkill mode, as far as he could tell.

And so far they all seemed to be paying attention.

If they were actually following along, he'd eat his Bike Helmet with blue cheese dressing on the side.

"The 'Cure' attacks an element of the Vampire Gene. The DNA sequence it contains can also be found in the Mutant Gene," he continued. "But it forms no chemical bond."

Tony put his hand up politely.

House blamed Neal for that one.

"What?" he demanded.

"We saw Speed coming to life. It was working!" Tony was sure of that. "How can it not stick?"

"Oh, it works." Neville glanced at House then back at Tony. "If we had the time, and the knowledge we have now, back when it infected Timothy, we would've been able to attack it better. But we were flying blind. When it comes to the Vampire Gene, its healing abilities will win out. The time that would take, was the big factor in the decision to go ahead with a different strategy."

"So by Turning him," Horatio concluded, "the Gene was forced to work faster."

"And he clearly has the brains of the family, hidden under the flashy suits." House rolled his eyes. He'd been a little sleep deprived. That was the only explanation for his failure to be so much more witty. "Good work with finding this one, Speedy." House smirked over at the redhead.

He knew full well that Horatio Caine was not the dumb cop most people seemed to label him as. He liked a nice suit, but he wasn't exactly a clothes horse either. He actually had a damn good scientific mind, fitted for the complexities of molecular chemistry, and in private had been asking a lot of questions about just what happened with his Mate.

Which was only right.

Mates did that.

It was how things were meant to be.

"Stop trying to be nice," Speed grumbled. "You suck at it."

House snorted in perfect sync with Wilson. "The best solution if the 'Cure' should be given to a Vampire again, is to get their Sire and have them start the process over, repeatedly. Just as Nick here did." Neville gave them instructions just in case.

Anything was potentially possible lately.

"And if their Sire is dead?" Mac asked.

They had gotten the call in the early hours of the morning, that Sonny Sassone was dust.

He had thought Danny would want physical proof, but the fact that Jack McCoy simply told him that he'd taken the Rogue's head as punishment for the crimes he'd committed, was enough to ease his Mate.

Danny had hung up the phone, stared at the wall for a few moments, then looked at Mac squarely.

He in turn had bitten back tears, when he saw once again, the light in those beautiful eyes that had dulled after Sonny came to haunt them.

They both grinned.

Mac laughed openly when Danny pounced, pushing him down into the bed.

That night they had connected on a much deeper level than they ever had before; the Bond strengthening significantly as they did so.

"Or you have a Sire you don't want near you?" Danny asked, nodding knowingly.

"Mate is the next best thing. If they don't have one of those either, then a random stranger would work too, but make it an older Vampire if you can. They're that much stronger in themselves." House shrugged. "There needs to be a Bond, some connection, lots of touchy feely crap involved."

"Is that a scientific term?" Horatio smirked at the Doctor.

"Yes, I invented it." Gregory glared.

"Basically," Neville continued, trying not to roll his eyes and smack people. "The Vampire Gene does the physical work. The stronger the connection, the more pull on the Soul to stay in place. Or at least that's what we're seeing from this."

"So how does this affect the Mutant Gene?" Scott asked.

"That's where we come in." Jean stepped up to the front of the room with Dr. Banner. "From studies and other explanations provided by Dr. Neville, our main understanding in what differentiates the Vampire Gene from the Mutant Gene, is the fact that the Mutant Gene is embedded in Human DNA, while the Vampire Gene wraps itself around the Human DNA. Essentially, one is born, the other is made."

"The Cure attacks a particular code that is identical in the two Genes. The Vampire Gene is exceptionally good at self-defense, and is stronger than the Cure. It can wipe it out. We just don't know how long that might take." Dr. Banner took over the lecture. "The Mutant Gene is not so lucky."

"So it could cure Mutants permanently?" Storm asked, from her spot in the back of the room.

Jean glanced over to smile at her, slightly shocked at seeing the tall, very attentive man next to her. Scott had mentioned that a Hunter had seemed to take interest in their teammate, but said nothing much more than that about it.

Storm didn't exactly make friends easily.

"It depends on the strength of the Mutant Gene," Jean answered. "But Dr. House is right."

"Ha!" He gave his audience a haughty stare. "I want that written in the Minutes. Proof of my genius, if you please."

"The Cure is not that strong," she continued, totally ignoring him. "The stronger the Mutation, the less the likelihood that it will stick. For example, if given to Scott, he would be able to see normally, but for how long, would depend on the metabolism of the Mutant, and strength of the Mutation. In some cases the Mutation could be cured, but in others it would inevitably come back at some point."

"So the Cure attacks this same code in both Genes?" Nicolaus studied the genetic images, and information that the Doctors were displaying both on the wall, and in the packets of material in front of everyone.

The scientist in him was reading the codes and patterns, but he wasn't exactly a DNA specialist, and he regretted not having Greg close at hand. His input would've been more than helpful.

But he made a note to ensure his youngest got hold of the research they were studying. He wanted to hear his opinion on it too.

"That's Ancient Gene." Rodney spoke up for the first time. "It's parent to both of these other Genes. So basically, when the Ancients made Vampires, they also made Mutants."

Speed frowned at him. "I've read some of the findings from Atlantis. There's no mention of them experimenting with Mutations."

"They didn't. It was a hapless accident." Rodney shrugged. "When they made the Vampire Gene to keep them from being snack food, an element within it was comprised of their own DNA. When they fled and ended up here, that DNA in time mixed in with Human elements. Evolution took its course. It's how we have Humans with the Ancient Gene, but they're not Mutants. More studies will need to be done to see if there are any Mutants who have the separate Ancient Gene, just not as an element in their Mutant coding."

"Do Vampires all have the Ancient Gene?" Scott asked.

"Not that we're aware of," Neville explained. "I only know of one at the moment."

"Who?" Charles was as curious as the rest of them to know.

"Shep," House answered, looking over at the Vampire in question.

"What does this Ancient Gene do?" Storm looked at the one they were referring to.

"It allows you to use Ancient Devices," Rodney replied, rolling his eyes like it was all really boring. "But you don't know about that, 'cause it's a super-secret government program."

"Essentially the origins of mankind as we know it today."

A startlingly cheerful voice rang over their heads from the doorway.

Everyone leapt up.

Guns were out in seconds, as Hunters moved to protect their Clan Leaders, just as much as the Clan Leaders moved to protect those from the school.

The man who spoke, held up his hands in instant surrender, only to glance sideways and find his companion holding weapons on everyone else.

"Weapons down!" Nico's voice was battlefield deep. "Jimmy!" He laid a hand on the Hunter's arm, and he cautiously lowered his gun. "Alyc?"

She nodded, then lowered her own weapons too.

"Who the hell are you?" House demanded, having been startled enough to leap back a foot and half at least.

"He's the Doctor," Shep answered.

"Doctor Who?" Neville sighed, and shook his head when he realized what he'd just said.

"Exactly." Rodney shrugged. "We were just explaining your experiments with the Ancients."

The Doctor nodded and finally thought to drop his hands, as he moved inside to address the room. "I was assigned by the Pythia to help the citizens of Atlantis."

"The what?" Scott asked, still standing, staring at the intruder.

He was tall and thin, with a mess of shoulder length, curly brown hair falling in his eyes. Every inch the slightly batty, utterly forgetful scientist type, he had the most inane grin, and brilliant green eyes. No more than forty or so years old, he was dressed like some scruffy reject from Victorian England, complete with pompous accent.

Scott glanced at the woman who stayed close by his side, the weapons she carried, strapped to a pair of very shapely thighs, looking to be just as deadly as he was imagining.

And he was imagining pretty vividly.

Nicolaus sighed, feeling a headache coming on.

"First off, everyone sit! Do it now." He chuckled when everyone did just that, including the Doctor, who promptly sat like a good puppy on one of the stools at the front of the room, tugging Alyc down until she was squatting at his feet, ready to spring to his defense again at a moment's notice. "You have to understand, that there is a project the Government is funding, called the Stargate Program. It uses wormhole technology that is beyond my understanding…"

"It's not that hard of a concept."

"Rodney!" Shep was the only one who could silence his Mate.

"The Stargate can open a portal from one end of the galaxy to another," Sylum's Clan Leader continued, without missing a beat. "The scientists involved, discovered a city called Atlantis, and come to find out there were an ancient race that set up a whole system of Stargates around the universe. They were attacked by the Wraith, who suck the living force out of their enemies."

"Ah!" Banner got it. "Hence the snack food comment." He wasn't exactly sure if he fully believed what he was hearing, but there was at least a certain logic in it, after all, he had recently met a woman who could manipulate the weather, a real life Roman General, a telepath in a wheelchair, and he himself could turn into a giant green rage monster when he was pissed off.

After that, there wasn’t much left to categorize as strange any more.

"It was my task to make the Ancients immune to the Wraith before they all got eaten." The Doctor sounded almost gleeful about it. "Early experiments failed numerous times I'm afraid."

"You experimented on Humans?" Jean asked, horrified.

"No! No! You people and your sensibilities!" He threw his hands in the air again. "The first subjects were all animals. It was only in the last moments of Atlantis, that it finally worked. The first Vampire was Turned!"

"I was able to get through the Gate along with a few other survivors." Another voice entered the room, and they all glanced across as one, to where a young man was leaning in the doorway. "My name is Viduus."

"MacGyver? Really?" Rodney rolled his eyes then paused for thought for a second. "Actually that explains O'Neill."

"I blame Bruce for that show entirely. He convinced me to play the part." Viduus smirked. "But I was bored. And I'm sticking to that excuse." He soon spotted the Doctor and Alyc, and took a spot beside them, making sure to embrace her as he approached. "When I arrived on Earth with a few of the Ancients, it was a fight for survival, all the way. We soon learned to blend with those we found. My companions found mates in time, and some had families, and the Ancient Gene passed into the human race."

"And Vampires?" Malcolm asked, astonished at what he was hearing.

He had known about the Stargate in theory, and seen its affects in Egypt, which rather put paid to it all being purely theoretical, but listening to the explanations that were coming out, felt like he was like seeing a Science Fiction novel come to life, and part of him was squeeing like a little girl at the idea that the Vampires came from an Alien Race.

He was also considering that new novel…

As Derek Storm was just about dead and gone at last.

"I accidently discovered how to Turn another, then figured out quickly how to kill it." Viduus shook his head not wanting to think about the Horde he'd run into in those early years. "Ahmet was my first Childe."

"I should really do more research on it, but in time the children that came from the Ancients and Humans, developed the Mutant Gene. Hence not all Humans have the Ancient or Mutant Gene." It was the first time The Doctor had actually tried explaining how all of it tied together. "This cure thing you have, is simply another mutation and is really only a diversion."

"Diversion for what?" Benton demanded, unable to stay politely quiet any longer.

The science was overwhelming, and he wasn't understanding all of it by any means. He would talk to Blair later and see if he could make heads or tails of all the jargon. But he knew what was being implied.

And it was massive.

"Magneto is a sound bite for Stillson," Tony grunted. "Is he trying to divert us from the election?"

"No. Seriously." The Doctor shook his head vigorously, reaching into the pocket of his smoking jacket, for a small, crumpled paper bag, from which he pulled a green Jelly Baby, that he popped into his mouth with all the delight of an ecstatic five year old. "Let's put this in terms you can better understand. This Stillson person, is using the fear of the unknown to help his campaign. He's a gnat. Get over it. Frankenstein is using it to try and weaken the Vampire Community. But he's also just a tool. Magneto however, is looking for his Adam and Eve."

"Like the first Mutants?" Josiah asked, his mind racing. "Y'know, I'm gonna take a wild guess here and assume that Viduus is the only real living Ancient. Along with you, Doctor. Right?"

"I am certainly not an Ancient, thank you very much Mr. Cowboy! And there are no 'living' Ancients on Earth. Magneto isn't looking for Ancients though, or their descendants. Actually he's so obsessed with Mutants, he's got no idea about any of the rest of it." The Doctor smiled at him. "He somehow found reports on a study that scientists were doing in Eureka. Which, by the way, is a great name for a town full of secret hidden nerds! Where was I?" He started counting off the issues on his fingers. "Oh, right. Report. Nerds. What else? Yes, that's when he decided to set his plan in motion, to save the Adam and Eve of the Mutant Race."

Jack Carter suddenly understood. "Alyc? He wants you."

She nodded. "And my Mate."

"Who the hell is her Mate?" Neville was finally lost. "And why would he want her? You just said Magneto doesn't know about Vampires!"

"No, he doesn't," Charles assured him, watching the young woman closely. "But you're older than you seem, aren't you?"

Alyc gave him a soft smile.

She had felt his presence surround her, and knew that he was no threat, so she opened up to him, and let him see who she really was, accepting him as her ally. "My Mate and I were the first to be experimented on. We were The Doctor's first success. When we arrived on Earth, we began to change and evolve. Now we are what we are."

"Wait!" Rodney shook his head as he grabbed his laptop, clicking through files he had been researching ever since he discovered them. "Viduus was the first success."

"Human success." The Doctor glanced quickly at his old friend, then just as quickly looked away.

Nico's eyebrows rose at seeing the silent communication, and he wondered what else they were hiding.

"There was another who helped me in my research. He was a sociologist, a researcher, a valued historian on Atlantis, and later a Guardian when they were defending against the Wraith. He was quiet, very smart. He understood cultures and diplomacy in ways I have no comprehension. What can I say? I'm not that way inclined? When he was assigned to me, he became a kind of de facto bodyguard. Along with him were highly two trained…" He paused, trying to come up with the most descriptive way to express himself. "Best I can do, is get you to imagine a wolf mixed in with those jackal things from Egypt."

The room stilled.

Some were looking at the Doctor with bemused expressions.

Others were slowly putting the pieces together, one at a time.

"Fucking hell!" Rodney's Canadian accent slipped out as he yelled, remembering some notes from Atlantis that detailed what he'd thought were the Ancients discussing the Guards. "Not Guards, more like Guard Dogs. I mean, she was the wolf and jackal thing?"

"Yes." The Doctor smiled sweetly at Alyc.

He was amazed at how the Mated pair had evolved into such beautiful, deadly creatures. He had studied her blood work at length, and the mixture of species DNA she displayed, was unbelievable. There would never be a way to recreate it.

"They are Evolution at its finest. She and her Mate have evolved from Wolf, to Human, to Vampire."

"Holy fucking shit!" Neville just stared, his mouth dropping open in admiration.

"Wait! Wait up here! Who's her Mate?" Banner demanded, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that at one time, the woman had actually been a four-legged animal.

Nicolaus thought back to what Neville had said about the man they had experimented on back in the Seventies.

He looked over at Charles, who just gave him a small nod.

"Logan," Nico said out loud.

"Magneto has him." Alyc growled low in her throat. "I smelled my Lycan all over that bastard."

"If Magneto has him, then he must also have Dexter." Warrick glanced at his Mate in concern.

He had a feeling the two of them would soon be shifting through huge numbers of reports, trying to absorb all the information they had, and figure it all out for themselves. Warrick wasn't an idiot, but DNA wasn't his specialty either. He glanced over at Horatio, who was reading through everything even as he listened to the conversation. Tony and Speed were sifting through papers in front of them, and he knew they couldn't wait until they told Gil.

Grissom would go nuts over it all.

"Since it was Dexter's blood trail Logan was following, that would make sense. When was the last time we heard from either of them?" Nico asked.

Scott shook his head. "Logan hasn't checked in at all, but that isn't shocking." He shrugged. "It's Logan. He does his own thing. Always has."

"Dexter checked in last night," Billy muttered, from where he stood beside his Clan Leader. "He said he was close and would contact us when he knew for sure. I didn't see a problem with that."

Lucien patted him on the shoulder.

Knight's Clan Leader had been utterly lost for words, and in truth, they still weren't coming to either him or Claudio, though in truth, they'd both felt the urge to laugh out loud from time to time. It was just a little too fantastic.

But then again, they'd been spending a lot of time and effort in hiding Mutants, so anything was technically possible.

"Magneto didn't know that Logan was actually Lycan, until Grand Central Station," The Doctor informed them.

"Which means he captured him as one of my X-Men." Charles frowned, using the term that had, until then, been one more of fond regard, than actual substance.

After that, it would become a force to be reckoned with.

"Jean? I need to go to Cerebro."

"Of course, Professor." She headed for the door, just as Scott stood up and started to make sure people got out of Xavier's way.

"Nico?" Charles beckoned to his son as he headed out of the conference room. "Magneto will use this to his advantage."

"He plans on starting a war." Mal could see it unfolding like a convoluted plot in a very thick tome. "You got all these Mutants who are pissed off as hell over having to hide who they are. Then Stillson is talking about 'Curing' them, and Humans are ready to lynch them. Magneto steps up with their version of Adam and Eve and he's got an instant a rallying point for the Mutant Cause. Fight to the end to save our race. Give me liberty, or give me death!"

"He's going to need more than a few scrappy Mutants to pull that off," Jimmy added. "Those we fought at the Grand Central were a small number, and in the end they could be easily outnumbered by a single military unit."

"He's recruiting."

Neal and Peter stood in the doorway.

"I saw the big guy leave, and figured it was safe for us non-important personnel to stop by." Neal smirked at his Uncle Nico. "Though we do have information you need. So I guess that makes us more important now."

"What?" Nico demanded, about ready to start smacking people in frustration.

Peter was proudly surprised by how seriously Neal was talking to Sylum's Clan Leader.

It was like suddenly seeing him grow up in the blink of an eye.

"I was able to decode a few more things in that poetry book. Besides officially hating Russian Verse right now, there are details on what Frankie's planning to doing with the research Magneto has provided with this 'Cure'. But more importantly, another advertisement came out in the paper. Mozzie just sent it to me." Neal drew a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Nico. "He's aiming for two specific targets. One is in Portland, Oregon. Seems someone hacked into his files and he's sending Magneto personally to go get him. The other is in Vegas."

Warrick felt shock and fear shoot through the Bond with Nicolaus. "Who?" he asked, leaping to his feet.

"A small child is the target." Neal continued watching his Uncle as his face paled way too fast. "I checked twice, and Mozzie did a double-check on top of it. There's no mistake. They're after Keppler's son, and they're sending someone called Sabertooth to get him."


Stage Four | Stage Six

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