"Two Weeks"

by Calm Jedi

Summary: Xavier gets into trouble with the law, and Logan gets into trouble with an old enemy.

Category: Action/Adventure, Angst, UST.

Pairings: Xavier/Magneto, Logan/Remy, and implied Logan/original female character. But she's not a Mary Sue, damnit! She's nothing like me. Please don't let her tiny little presence stop you from reading this...

Rating: NC-17 for sex and a couple of naughty words.

Warning: This is SLASH--guys get it on with other guys. If you don't like that, go watch the Disney channel.

Author's Notes: Major thanks and hugs to Wolfine, for the beta, the encouragement, and just dern being there. The woman is magic, pure and personified. 8-)

Jean had left the letter to Logan on top of the tv.

Wolverine sliced it open with a claw and snorted as he read it. Jubilee, standing next to him, watched his face as it metamorphasised from his usual disdainful expression to disdainful and pissed off.

Curious, she tried to pull his arm down. "What is it, Wolvie?"

He didn't answer, but kept reading, and his arm was like steel. He read it once and re-read twice, frowning. Impatient, she scooted around behind him to read over his shoulder. Thank goodness he was so short.

"Greetings, Logan--it's been a long time, no? I wonder if you even remember me? I've certainly not forgotten you. I'd like to see you, if you're interested. Meet me at the coordinates on the bottom of this page, at seven in the evening, one week from today. That'll be Thursday, November third, sweetness, just so you don't keep me waiting. Because I will be waiting." It was signed "M." and there was a PS: "Yes, sweetie, it's a trap. You know me. Don't even bother worrying about it. If you want to come see me, come see me, and if you're too afraid, don't. XOXO."

"Who's M.?" Jubilee wanted to know.

Wolverine gritted his teeth. "An old friend."

Jubliee chewed her gum impatiently. "Look, Wolvie--if someone sets a trap for you, they probably want you dead. When someone wants you dead, they are NOT your 'old friend.' Kay? Take it from me." She paused for a second. "Are you going to go?"

"'Course. Wouldn' miss a meetin' with an old friend," Logan drawled.

Jubilee's exasperated "uohhh!" was all the response he needed to grin. Sitting down on the couch, he lit a cigar, and she curled up beside him and flipped on the tv. Life was good.

But he couldn't get his mind off the note.

_____________

Charles Xavier sat with his oldest friend, who had arrived that afternoon. Pulling back the curtain, he looked out. The lawns were quiet; a few mutant students wandered in pairs or sat alone under the shade of the trees, talking and studying.

Perhaps remembering the messy, destructive fiasco that had ensued upon his last peaceful visit to the mansion, Magnus had announced himself in the most normal possible manner--by ringing the front doorbell. Wolverine had answered, Jubilee at his back, and words had been exchanged. The man had been slightly drunk, and apparently had at first refused to let Magnus enter. There'd been no violence, thankfully, but knowing the alarming way Logan answered the door normally ("What d'ya want, bub?") Xavier could only imagine what he'd said to Magnus, one of the X-Men's worst enemies. All he knew was that by the end of the little confrontation, Jubilee's eyebrows had ended up nestled in her hair.

Of course, since nobody was dead, Logan couldn't have been *that* insulting. Perhaps Magnus had been in a patient mood. Xavier chuckled internally at the thought.

He had wondered about the drunkenness, though. It wasn't like Wolverine. Granted, he normally consumed in a day the amount of beers Xavier drank in a year, but usually he remained unaffected.

Charles Xavier could only imagine the quantities Wolverine would need to imbibe to get truly smashed.

Unfortunately, he had worse problems than Logan's drinking, and was really far too distracted to care. Federal charges were going to be drawn up against him, and he was likely going to prison. The late Senator Kelly's young protege, Representative Marcus Brentano, was spouting his mentor's hateful rhetoric in a way that would've made Kelly proud, and the nation had been riled up impressively.

Brentano was blaming him for the recent demolition of a federal building in New York and ranting about the existence of "that delinquent, destructive pseudo-superhero band of outlaws, the X-Men." Amongst various other sordid things. The Senate's special committee would manage to indict him on something, he was sure of it. There was simply too much discontent among the citizenry for the legislators to do nothing. Not if they valued their jobs.

Xavier didn't normally get angry at people; all it did was waste valuable energy...but damn the man. He did NOT need this right now.

"If they indict me, I should turn myself in," he said to Magnus dully. "It's the only acceptable thing to do."

The problem with turning himself in was, ironically, his mental powers. If he was indicted and turned himself in, the specially appointed "mutant control panel" was going to recommend that he be drugged to contain his mental powers, so that he could not use them to escape.

Charles Xavier didn't want to be drugged.

Unfortunately--ha! that such a thing could be 'unfortunate'--the technology for the Genoshan slave collars had been lost in the most recent war over the tiny isle.

"If you do, frankly, I doubt you'll make it to a fair trial, assuming they bother to give you one at all," Magnus said harshly. "Though it would of course only be your own fault, it would be rather a waste."

Yes, a waste. It didn't matter how many officers were assigned to protect him; the American people were out for his blood. Hell, whatever officers were assigned to protect him would probably lynch him themselves.

Gods but this was ridiculous. The only reason he was being attacked so personally was because he was the most vocal proponent of mutant rights; the clearest voice for peaceful mutant-human co-existence at a time when humans were convinced that there could be no such thing.

A waste. A waste of his body, his mind, his powers. But could he bring himself to evade the law? He doubted he had it in him.

He turned from the window, moving his hover chair back behind his desk. The look on the face of his old friend would have frightened him had he not known the other man so well, and trusted him so much. Magnus' eyes were glittering with passion, and his lips were pressed into a straight, thin line. A strange note sounded in his voice. "Charles, you can't let this happen." His gaze, his voice, were mesmerizing to Xavier, as they had always been. "Come away, with me, to somewhere safe. Just until the worst of this madness dies down."

Xavier looked away, to ignore the hypnotic quality of Magnus' stare. "Is that an invitation to become a wanted mutant criminal?" he asked, humor tingling in his voice.

"Yes, it is." Magnus' voice was strong, serious.

Xavier frowned. He's offering to protect me? How touching. And...well....strange.

"But can I afford to wait until the worst of it dies down?" To be honest, Xavier wasn't sure it *would* die down, not this time. At least not until a scapegoat was found. And who but him would make an acceptable martyr for the cause?

If he was honest with himself, he could admit that he was no longer sure Magnus was wrong. Perhaps a war was brewing after all. He prayed it was not so, but things had never been this bad...

"I don't know, Charles." Magnus frowned. "I don't know." Seeing Erik brooding over Xavier's problems, rather than his own...well, it warmed Xavier in a place he hadn't thought could be warm any more.

He was glad Erik had come. Magnus was a comforting person to have around in a tight spot; he approached things reasonably, calmly, and honestly, examining the situation from every angle. And at his core, he had the strongest, most desperate will to live that Xavier had ever encountered. That helped, too; helped push back the despair that threatened at a time like this.

Xavier closed his eyes for a moment, and the two most powerful mutants in the world sat together in silence.

_______________

Storm and Wolverine were having tea in her gardens, and Logan felt good. Her company was balm for his frayed nerves--no matter how well he hid it, the note from Maladria had shaken him up. He was more than a match for her physically--well, duh, as Jubilee would say--but as a partner, and as an enemy, she was both brilliant and incredibly unpredictable. It was a razor's-edge-dangerous combination, and Logan didn't like it now any more than he had all those years ago. And at least then, she'd been on *his* side.

Storm had asked what was troubling him, knowing in her strange way that something was indeed bothering him. He'd told her about Maladria, about their work together as agents of the Canadian government, about her cutting intelligence and sadistic streak. Even, after a fashion, about the crazy sex they'd had:

"...there was nothin' serious between us. It was just bein' thrown together like that. There was a lotta pressure on us all the time, and being together was just a way of releasin' it. We trusted each other--had to for the assignments *we* went on. Kinda like how in a pinch, ya'd trust any of the X-Men. With yer life," he added. Wolverine looked up at her. "I hadn't thought 'bout her in years...hadn't wanted to." He paused.

"I'd even started to wonder if some of the mem'ries were fake, but I guess they weren't. We didn't part on good terms, but still, I don't know why she wants me dead now..." his voice trailed off.

Remarkable how he could discuss these things with Storm, with no shame or embarrassment. He could think of no other person on the face of the earth for whom he could say the same. But damn--when he'd come for their weekly tea, he'd never anticipated talking about this, like this, to her.

Storm sipped her tea. "Are you certain she wants you dead? By the way--is she a mutant?"

He nodded. "She doesn't feel pain. You hit 'er over the head, she'd get dizzy for a second then bounce right back up again. It made telling how bad stuff was kinda difficult, though. Like in the heat of things, if she'd been shot, how bad was it really? There was never any way to know." His eyes grew distant. "Because she wouldn't feel it. We never knew how much blood loss was going to be too much."

He came back to earth and grinned for a moment. "We made a good team. Both of us took a lot of hurtin' to take out."

Storm nodded mildly. "I can imagine."

He lifted his own teacup to his lips. "She's mostly normal-looking, but she has long, sharp teeth. Make 'er look like a monster."

"It sounds like she is a monster," Storm remarked.

"Storm," he said slowly, staring into her eyes. They were a lovely blue. She was a wonderful friend.

"Yes, Logan?"

"Do you ever--"

At that moment, Bobby leapt between them and over the table, shouting and startling both of them. His flying foot came close to overturning their tea table.

Logan shook himself out of it. He'd been so distracted he hadn't even heard or smelled Bobby's approach. /Yer gettin' soft, old man./

Two seconds behind the Iceman, Beast bounced over the table, snarling something about cheating and Monopoly. Noticing Storm and Wolverine sitting there in bemusement, Beast looked over his shoulder long enough to say, "Good morning," in an extremely cordial tone, and then continued on his way.

Beast's shout carried back to them on the wind. "You'll never be the banker in this town again!"

"I take it Beast caught Bobby cheating at Monopoly again?" Storm asked calmly.

"Wouldn't doubt it." Wolverine stood up carefully. "I better go talk to the Professor," he said.

________________

When Logan entered Xavier's office, the first thing he was aware of was Magneto's unaccustomed--and not particularly welcome--presence. Logan's nostrils flared wide at the scent of the X-Men's old enemy, and he glanced to the side of the room, to the small couch, his sharp sight confirming his keen sense of smell.

"Hiya Chuck." Wolverine nodded at Magneto, but did not greet him. Magneto inclined his head, slowly and deliberately, in response. The eye contact was slightly unsettling to both of them.

"Hello Logan," Xavier said, and Wolverine's attention returned to the X-Men's mentor, whose forehead was currently creased with concern. "What is it?"

Wolverine did not mince words. Magneto sat quietly as Logan outlined for Xavier what the note had said and what it meant for him.

Xavier didn't want him to go, that much was obvious. "Things are so uncertain right now," he pleaded.

But in the end, he knew the fundamental truth of the situation: Logan was going to do whatever Logan wanted. This disturbing little problem didn't involve his teammates, only himself, his mysterious past and his personal safety. In Logan's mind, it was fair game, and something that he needed to pursue.

"Will you keep me informed?" he asked heavily.

"Sure, Chuck."

Xavier sighed as Wolverine left his office. Magnus looked at him. "That was a mistake, Charles. You're going to need him around when 'the Feds' storm this place."

Xavier gave him a dirty look.

_______________

Xavier heard a quiet knock on his door in the middle of the night. A very quiet knock.

It was hilarious, in a way, how they all tiptoed around him now that Magnus was there. Jean had told him before, when she brought him breakfast, that the other X-Men were worried. He hadn't wanted to meet or conference with them in four days. He knew he wasn't being a very good leader, but he couldn't bring himself to face them all together in the War Room. Other than an unusual amount of tension in the air, life at the X-Mansion was proceeding as normal. Classes continued, as did standard Danger Room practices, although Xavier had unceremoniously dumped all the classes he'd personally been teaching into Beast's lap. He was too distracted to be an efficient educator right now, and Hank hadn't seemed to mind.

Jean had made it clear that she was worried about him as well. God, they were so dear to him. He loved them, he did. And believed in them.

His X-Men.

"Come," he called, and when the door eased open a crack, Gambit slunk in. He looked depressed.

/He probably just got home,/ Xavier thought with a hidden smile. "What is it, Gambit?"

"N'thin in p'ticular. Just saw de light on and thought I'd say h'llo. You feelin' a'right, Professeur?"

"Yes, I'm fine, Gambit." It was a lie, true, but sometimes it was necessary to present a facade of confidence. /Was that a quote from Star Trek?/

Suddenly he was aware that Gambit smelled...good. Smelled like...oh god--sex. Maybe a bit more of the truth was in order. "I've been better, but I'm all right." Ye gods but it disturbed him when his body reacted so strongly to Gambit. v "Why y' up so late, Professeur?" Gambit's voice held more than just curiosity.

"I could ask the same of you, Gambit," he said teasingly, evading the question. But then he changed his mind. "I've had a lot on my mind lately, I suppose," he said more seriously.

The red eyes looked vaguely hurt. "Why d'you spen' all your time lock' up with Magneeto?"

It was a fair question, but it left Xavier at a loss for words. "Because he understands what it is I'm going through, I think, to a degree," he said finally. "And because he's my friend, and I haven't seen him in a long time." /And because deep in my heart of hearts, I'm afraid to face my X-Men not knowing whether or not I even have the strength to face my own destiny./

He could hear the sounds of the shower running in the other room, and suddenly he wished he was in there with Magnus, that perfect body, under the pouring hot water, running soap over those taut shoulders, the muscles hard underneath the luscious skin; stroking his soft silver-white hair...

Xavier shifted uncomfortably into a position more accomodating for the stirring in his groin. /If only I could tell him the truth...although what would I say? 'Magneto is more than my friend, actually--we've been sleeping together on and off for almost as long as we've known each other, despite our other love affairs, my handicap and his attitude problem. I know he's the X-Men's worst enemy, but he's an amazing individual, despite our philosophical differences, and incredible in bed, Gambit. Surely you of all people recognize the importance of staying close friends with such a good lay.'

Ha./

"I haven't seen him in a long time," he repeated absently.

Gambit frowned. "Well, don' forget, Magneeto de X-Men's wors' en'my, and we your friends too Professeur."

Xavier reached out to him, over the desk that lay between them, and after a moment Remy reached out and placed his hand in Xavier's. Gambit's hand was cool, his fingers elegantly sexy. Xavier tried to ignore them and focus instead on the gesture itself.

"Thank you, my friend," Xavier said softly.

Gambit left.

_______________

The Lousiana native was in the mood to knock the stuffing out of something, and he headed for the Danger Room. Logan was alone in the room, running a specially designed program for one and slashing the bejesus out of various enemies. Gambit was surprised to see him, though he would not have admitted it. He shut off Logan's program and came down. Logan growled at the interruption, but Gambit ignored him.

"Why y' up so late?"

Wolverine grunted. "Couldn't sleep."

Gambit was in the mood to talk, even if the older mutant wasn't. Storm was usually a better selection when Gambit was yearning for conversation, but Storm had long since gone to bed.

"Logan, what's goin' on with de Professeur? He goin' t' go t'prison?"

"I dunno. Ask 'im."

Gambit's hand dipped into a coat pocket, meditatively fingering a card. "Gambit wen' to, but it di'n seem like 'e really wanted t'talk."

"Well then ask Cyke."

"Scott not talking to nobody. Gambit t'ink he be worried 'bout de Professeur."

Wolverine sighed. "Well I have no idea. I figure it's his business, anyway." He inhaled slightly--Gambit smelled strongly of sex. It was...pleasant, in a way that sent red-hot flaring signals straight to his groin.

Remy noticed the flare of his nostrils and smiled. "How ya feel 'bout tusslin' with a *real* partner," he said suggestively. "Gambit could work 'ff a lil' aggression wit' a fight." He jerked his chin towards the control panel mounted on the Danger Room's wall.

In answer, Logan strode over to the panel and punched in a few commands. The other mutant retrieved his polestaff from a closet, slipped off his silk jacket and draped it carefully on the floor next to the opposite wall. "You step on dat, mon ami, and Gambit *not* goin' t'be happy."

And then Danger Room went darkly into jungle mode, and Remy was lost in foliage.

Wolverine smiled. It was hunting time.

And he liked to hunt.

For several minutes he prowled, brushing aside vines, scenting the air occasionally, searching quietly for the other mutant. Gambit had been about twenty yards away when the Room had changed, and he'd since lost himself thoroughly in the dark green haze of rainforest.

Then Logan smelled him. Gambit was above him--in the trees. He knew it without looking up. The younger mutant would probably try to pounce on him--

--and Gambit did. He jumped easily and silently down, intending to knock his opponent flat on his back. Unfortunately for him, Logan was ready for his quick descent from the trees. Before Gambit could touch ground, Logan swung his fist up and smoothly sliced apart Gambit's polestaff. Logan did not need his keen aural sense to hear his teammate swear at him under his breath. The words were in gutteral Cajun French, and Logan could not help but grin.

Gambit landed on solid ground a split second before the older mutant tackled him, throwing himself at Gambit's smaller frame. Remy grunted as Wolverine's heavy body hit him, and they fell to the ground and rolled. When they stopped rolling, Logan was atop him.

Gambit struggled, but it was no contest. Logan outweighed him by a hundred and twenty-five pounds of hard muscle and adamantium. Logan pinned him easily, holding the slender wrists tightly in one hand.

Gambit struggled again, trying to free his hands from Wolverine's iron grip and attempting to squirm out from under the other man's body. Finally he gave it up as hopeless and stilled. Logan would hold him down until he gave up, so he gave up.

Lying atop the younger man, Logan's nostrils flared, inhaling deeply. "You reek of sex, LeBeau," he said finally, a small, slightly evil grin settling on his face.

Gambit laughed, a clear laugh like a bell. "Gambit ha' prett' good date tonight," he allowed with a small smile of his own.

Logan inhaled again. "With a guy?" The pheremones were rolling off Gambit in clouds. He exhaled. "Smells like a guy."

Gambit smirked. "Gambit don' kiss n' tell."

It was definitely a guy. Logan leered at him. "Don't bother me any 'f it was a guy. You up for a little 'date' with someone else, Cajun?"

"Here n' now? De Dang'r Room be a bit public--Gambit t'ink we migh' get caught," he said, but even as he said it he was grinning, and his pelvis twitched against Logan's.

Logan growled deep in his throat in response. "It's four in the mornin', Gambit, who's gonna be comin' 'n here at this hour?"

"Well, you did," Remy pointed out, breathing out in pleasure as Logan's hand slid between their bodies and roughly fondled his sex through his pants. "An' I did."

Still not releasing Remy's wrists, Logan leaned down to capture the Cajun' lips with his own. Even Remy's mouth tasted like sex.

They'd fooled around in the past only once, and they'd been drunk off their respective asses. Gambit was pretty damn good with his mouth, Logan remembered--that was about all he remembered--and the younger man didn't seem to discriminate based on gender.

Personally, he himself didn't care one way or the other--a blowjob was a blowjob, and while he wasn't about to let a guy anywhere near his asshole, fucking a guy in the ass wasn't all that much different from doing the same thing to a woman. Except better--guys were so much more responsive. And he was drunk enough now to forgive himself in the morning.

And so it was decided, if it hadn't been already. They rolled around on the floor, ripping off clothing as they went. Gambit was naked in about five seconds, but Logan wasn't going in for that much exposure. He removed his shirt, and opened his pants. They were spandex, and stretchy enough to fuck comfortably in. Remy wore no underwear under his casually sexy streetclothes. Figured.

The publicness of the place actually turned him on a little, Logan noted with a small smile, but he still didn't want to remove all of his clothes. Gambit didn't seem to mind, though.

After only a few short minutes of rough, teasing foreplay Gambit drew himself up, and naked, impaled himself on Logan's hard cock. Remy was still slick from whatever previous activities he'd involved himself in that evening, but his ass was tight as ever, and it still took him several moments to get used to the feeling of being filled with another man's dick. He'd always liked the sensation, though, and he wriggled atop Logan as the other man struggled not to fuck Gambit before he was ready to take it.

Logan's head fell back and he closed his eyes in pleasure as Remy began to move up and down slowly. Gambit's ass was hot and maddeningly tight, despite the obvious fucking he'd already received this night. Logan breathed in deeply, smelling Remy's arousal, the scents he'd acquired earlier in the course of his evening, and the scintillating, seductive smell of the man himself. He liked to use his sense of smell when engaging in such activities--it enhanced everything, and Wolverine could no more imagine sex without its powerful unique scents than he could imagine wasting the rest of the X-Men on his day off. The Cajun added a little twist to his rhythmic movements, and the other mutant's pelvis bucked involuntarily upwards in response.

Eyes closed, moving his hand slowly over his own cock, Gambit brought him dangerously close to the edge and then deliberately slowed his rhythm. Logan groaned, not appreciating the teasing routine, no matter how good it felt to be inside the Cajun. No matter how good the younger man's short fingernails felt when scraped gently over his nipples, on his balls...

He'd had enough of being on the bottom anyway, and grabbing Gambit's hips, he rolled them over to take control of the rhythm of the fucking. Remy gasped in surprise, but came about admirably, spreading his legs wide and drawing his ass up for easy access.

Logan fucked Remy hard and fast, and Gambit didn't seem to mind that, either. In fact, there wasn't much Gambit did seem to mind. Remy moaned as Logan's dick hit his prostate, and turned his head to the side in pleasure. Logan's tight stomach provided nice hot friction for his hard-on, and Gambit moved his own hand over his dick in the gaps, getting himself off.

The view was good both ways, Logan decided. Watching Gambit from below him was like looking at a work of erotic art--the narrow chest tapering to beautiful waist, the flushed, perfectly formed nipples. There was something unbelievably beautiful about watching Remy atop him, touching himself, eyes closed, eyelashes thick and dark, moving slowly, wantonly up and down with a cock stuffed up his tight little ass.

From above, with his slim legs splayed out, his head twisting from side to side...well, there was a lot of slick, beautifully soft flesh to admire from either position. Logan slid his hands down Gambit's naked legs, appreciating their slender elegance, the fine sheen of fucksweat collecting behind the knees. The longish red hair had fallen over Gambit's face, partially hiding it. He wondered briefly if the man who'd enjoyed Remy's body earlier had had as much fun with it as he currently was.

"You're a slut, LeBeau," he noted aloud, without really meaning to. Gambit laughed from under him, still stroking himself, and Logan began to fuck the other man faster and harder than before. He was close, his balls were tightening. Remy came before he did, eyes still closed, hands clenched, hot fluid spilling over his stomach.

Logan grunted softly as he came, spurting into Gambit's heated ass as it contracted around him. The orgasm was unbelievably good, as it had been last time, when Gambit's mouth had swirled over his cock, bespeaking long experience with the art of the blowjob. God, it was good.

When he finally opened his eyes, Remy had his arms propped under his head and was looking up at him. The red eyes held a satisfaction that was palpable, and Logan slowly grinned.

Though Wolverine did not associate with his teammate any of the love or undying devotion he'd known with some of his female lovers, sex with Gambit was a unique experience and one well worth having. No question about that.

But then his grin faded. For all the fellow-teammate affection between them, and despite his intense admiration of Gambit's slender body, it had been a fairly impersonal coupling. To smooth the feeling over, he leaned down and pressed his lips again to Remy's.

______________

+Two hours after Gambit's departure from his office+

Xavier sat at the small desk in his bedroom, listlessly stirring the morning tea Jean had brought him, contemplating the situation. There was a stack of essays in front of him that he'd meant to pass off to Beast...he was trying to read them, but in reality he couldn't even bring himself to look over them.

Magnus had entreated him again, earlier, to come away with him to one of his secret bases. Just until things quieted down a bit, he said...but running from the law, even temporarily, and no matter how laughably it was being twisted against him, was simply not Xavier's style. He was a law-abiding person, and running would only cast that fact into doubt. Still, it was pleasant to know Magnus would trust him with the location--and, if he went there with Erik, intimate knowledge--of one of the little secret hideouts he valued so much.

/But that's the difference between us, really. I refuse to hide, refuse to be anywhere but out in the open, while he retreats into his privacy, secrecy, solitude./

Anyway. He would know within a few days, probably, whether he was going to be indicted. It could happen at any time; the hearings were not proceeding in his favor, he knew. His lawyers, sitting in on the hearings, were giving him twice-daily updates.

And once he was indicted, there could be no question of conviction. It was only a matter of time.

Magnus watched him from where he lay beneath the covers. He had not spoken, however, in some hours. "Come to bed, Charles."

At the other man's words, Xavier felt a rush of fatigue take him. He hadn't slept in what...twenty-seven hours, at least. The rest of the mansions occupants were just waking up, but it was definitely time for him to sleep. He did not respond, but numbly moved his chair over to the bed.

Knowing he would not ask for help, but rather clumsily drag his useless lower body into bed himself, Magnus tugged the covers down for him, then leaned over and grasped Xavier's hand, using his power to draw the telepath gently into the bed. Had Xavier not been so dead tired, and had he not trusted Erik so much, he would have been borderline suspicious. Erik was not normally this solicitous.

/Ye gods, he's worried about me,/ Xavier realized dully.

He tried to find the words to thank Magnus, but they refused to come. That seemed to be happening a lot lately...all he could do was lie back and allow Erik to gather him in his arms. Strange, even after all these years of loving Magnus, that the simplicity of sinking into a bed with him could give him so much comfort.

He fell asleep like that, exhausted, his smooth, bald scalp resting on Magnus' upper arm. The Master of Magnetism, however, did not sleep, but only stared upwards at the ceiling.

_________________

Logan stripped off his clothes and pulled on a pair of flannel boxers. Tomorrow he had a seat on a flight booked for Toronto. He knew the landscape fairly well, and had a good idea of where he was going. He closed his eyes, partly in anticipation, partly in dread. He was not looking forward to seeing Maladria again.

In the meantime, well, the aftermath with the Cajun hadn't been too too awkward. Gambit had seemed quite self-satisfied, which helped immeasurably. Still, there was something about fucking another man, and your teammate at that.

He flopped bonelessly on the bed. It had been just what he'd needed, though, and Gambit was really quite a fuck. The best he'd had in ages. Definitely worth it, even with two telepaths living in the house. Besides, he was leaving tomorrow anyway. Whatever thoughts and after-images Jean and Chuck caught would be entirely from Gambit's sex-scrambled brains.

Logan pulled the sheet over his lower body and grinned to himself as he drifted off to sleep.

_________________

+Two days later+

Things had gotten uglier between them in the past couple of days. Xavier was still utterly torn over what to do about his impending imprisonment, and Magnus was growing impatient with Xavier's lack of any conclusive decision. He'd practically yelled at him yesterday: '"Charles, this is ridiculous! You don't sleep, you don't even confer with your X-Men anymore. All you do is kill yourself trying to make a decision that you're probably never going to come to at all!"'

Magnus was calmer now, but not much. "Look, Charles--it's your decision. I'm not going to pretend that I don't care what you do, but for goodness' sakes *make* a decision. Act! Do *something*! The decision to not make a decision counts for nothing, and yet that seems to be the option you like best."

Xavier flinched. It was true--he took his time in making choices. But little could be gained with haste in situations like this one...

"I believe that sometimes, the waiting game truly is the best option," he said softly.

Magnus' voice was harsh. "And that, Charles, will be your downfall. Your passionate, undying belief in the strength of your own ideals, coupled with too much cowardice to actually *do* anything about anything."

Xavier bowed his head.

/Oh Charles, how you tempt me with your indecision,/ he heard from Magnus.

Xavier's head snapped up at that. "What?"

"What." Magnus responded irritably.

"Why did you just think that to me? What do you mean, tempt you?"

"What are you talking about?" Erik's voice had gone extremely quiet, patient--a definite bad sign.

"Your shields are slipping," Xavier muttered.

Magnus stood, and walked over to the desk. Much to Xavier's surprise, he hopped up, still agile for all his years, and perched on it. Xavier was quite taken aback. Magnus was not the sort of person to just hop up on your desk without permission. He was obsessive enough about his own personal space not to invade anyone else's.

Not to mention that normally when he sat, he used a chair.

The mutant known as Magneto looked down at Charles thoughtfully. "What I meant, my friend, is exactly what I was thinking. I'm tempted to make a decision for you."

Xavier spluttered. "And what would you do, turn me in? Or take me prisoner yourself?"

"The second one," Magnus said calmly.

Xavier laughed, good and hard, for the first time in a week. "Thank you for coming, old friend," he said with a smile.

"I'm dead serious, Charles."

Xavier tilted his head to give Magnus a second look. He did look serious, very serious indeed. "You're not," he stated, disbelieving.

Magnus leaned down. "Do you think I want to see you imprisoned?" he hissed. "In the custody of the foolish humans that run this ridiculous country? They'll pump you so full of Thorazine and Phenobarbitol and God knows what else, you won't even be conscious half the time. My methods may differ from yours, but you are a friend, Charles, and a fellow mutant. I have no wish to see exactly what it is they'd do to you to subdue your powers."

The look in his eyes took Charles' breath away. "Is that what I am to you, then?" he whispered in the quiet of the morning. "Your friend, and a fellow mutant?"

Magnus frowned, disapproving as always when Xavier brought up the subject of their relationship. "Charles, we're talking about you and your little problem, not us. It is a matter of titling, and of little importance."

/How often he says my name when we converse. 'Blah blah blah, Charles.' 'You're wrong, Charles, because of blah blah blah.' Who else does that in idle conversation? I love it; I do./

Xavier smiled internally. He needed to do this thing right. He needed to be worthy of Magnus' affection. He needed to do the right thing by his X-Men, and the right thing by himself.

Magnus' frown was so dark, it practically growled. "I hardly see the humor in this situation. What in God's name is there to smile at?"

Xavier drew a breath. "Nothing, Magnus, except that I am afraid. I've made my decision. When they come to retrieve me, I am going to go with them."

"Charles..."

Xavier shrugged, not looking at him. "It's the right decision. I don't want to, but I need to. This is an opportunity....to prove that mutants are normal, honorable people. I concealed my mutation from the public for so long...this is an opportunity to demonstrate my willingness to comply with their laws."

Magnus' voice burned. "Their anti-mutant laws?!"

Xavier bowed his head. "If that's what it takes. Erik....this is what I have to do."

The choice was made. Well, that hadn't been so hard, now, had it? Xavier wanted to laugh. He felt better, calmer, than he had in a week. He knew Magnus could feel his peace, and his resolve.

Magnus' voice, however, was brisk. "I'm glad you've come to a decision, Charles." He paused, and Xavier heard a clink of metal from behind him. "I only wish it had been the right one."

Something in his tone was unnerving, and Xavier was turning around to face his friend when he felt something hit the back of his head.

__________________

The plane ride out hadn't been bad, and the motel room, for all its grime and roaches, didn't bother Logan.

He left the room at ten in the morning. If Maladria wanted him there at seven pm, he would get there hours early and scope out the place. The trouble was, he knew she'd be expecting that. It was her habit as much as it was his.

Growling under his breath, he pulled his uniforms headpiece over his face and headed out to the old truck he'd rented.

The trip wasn't too long or too hard. Getting to the spot Maladria had specified took about three hours. The drive was quiet, but he was tense. This was not good, no matter what spin you put on it. Thoughts of the X-Men rose up unbidden in his mind, distracting him from the task at hand. Storm, and the peace her presence extended to him. Cyke...self-righteous ass though he might be, the guy was always entertaining to piss off. Jubes--she was a good kid, and he loved her. Missed her. He trusted the Professor as he trusted few individuals, and Gambit was always good for a tussle or a sarcastic exchange. By the time he cut the engine, Logan was almost smiling.

He'd stopped about a thirty-minute walk away, so as not to give away his arrival, and he walked.

The coordinates she'd named had been one of the surveillance places back in the day, mainly because it'd been a five-minute walk to a privately run, top-secret installation they'd been assigned to assault. Old memories bore down on him as he approached the clearing. Flash of Mal's dark eyes, glitter of her monstrous teeth. Blood grotesquely spurting from the place where she'd cut off that man's arm--

Logan neared the place silently, noticing the tented top of a small pavilion poking up behind the trees. He went towards it slowly, sniffing the air carefully. It had been a long time, but he recognized her scent instantly. Other scents too--a man, fairly young, probably, and someone else...something familiar. Familiar but not strong enough to place.

The pavilion was square-shaped, about twenty-five feet by twenty-five feet, and a pleasant peach color. Avoiding the entrance flap, he skirted the front of the tent and went around to the back. Realizing there was only one way to resolve this little stand-off: going in. He extended one adamantium claw, quickly slit an entrance in the pavilion's side and ducked in.

And froze.

Maladria was standing near the far end, about twenty feet away from him, pressing the glittering edge of a kife to Jubilee's throat.

Mal was paler and thinner. She'd aged--little lines had begun to show at the corners of her eyes. But she wasn't that different, not really. Teeth were still sharp when she smiled, chocolate brown mass of hair was still long and straight. It too had thinned somewhat, however, and the youthful lustre had long since gone from the wavy mane.

But the dark eyes hadn't changed. Still malevolent, still evil-looking.

He'd enjoyed that demonic quality, once...

Jubes' arms were behind her, and she was gagged with some sort of white cloth. When she saw Wolverine, her eyes gleamed with frightened tears and she frantically shook her head.

"Logan! So glad you decided to join us," Maladria said with a laugh. Her smile was poisonous, as he'd remembered. /Those teeth.../ "If you so much as breathe wrong, I'll slit her throat," she said, and smiled again as Logan stilled. "That's right, sweetheart--I don't care how fast you can move, it won't be fast enough."

Logan wanted to speak, to growl, even to plead with her not to hurt Jubes, but he knew it would only provoke her to further harm the kid. He found his voice. "You wanted me, I'm here. Now what d'ya want?"

Maladria fingered Jubilee's soft, short black hair. "Take off the mask."

Logan reached obediently upwards, pulling the cloth away with a mechanical note born of long habit. Revealing his face, and his dark, peaked hair.

He cursed himself silently. Why hadn't he brought someone with him? He knew why, of course--he was a loner by nature, and the other X-Men were busy worrying about the Professor's problem. But damn, what he wouldn't give to have Storm somewhere nearby, or Gambit. The guy was more than decent in a fight--he'd knocked Logan himself to the ground more than once in practice--and he was damn good to have at your back. He could've come in the other way, taken Maladria by surprise...Storm could've blown the whole pavilion down...anything to get that damn knife away from Jube's throat for just three seconds...

"You don't look a day older, sweetie," Maladria said fondly. She waited a beat for any response that might be forthcoming and then went on. "I see your taste in women hasn't changed," she said more softly, stroking Jubilee's hair. A tear squeezed out from the younger woman's closed eyes and slowly made its way down her cheek. "Logan--behind you there's a set of restraints. Lock yourself in them."

Logan barely glanced at them. "How do I know you won't kill 'er the second these"--he popped out all six claws menacingly--"can't slice that grin right outta yer face?"

A look of pure exasperation crossed her face. "Because I won't. I'm as honorable as you are, fur-face, and I give you my word I'll let her go."

Logan grunted. "I put myself in these, and you'll let 'er go?"

"Yes," she replied. Logan picked up to the cuffs, put his hands behind him, and, operating by feel, snapped them around his wrists.

Maladria called out to someone, and a young man entered the tent on Logan's end. He eyed Logan nervously but squatted down behind him and proceeded to carefully check the security of the cuffs. He further produced a set of ankle restraints, which he snapped around Logan's ankles. Logan stared into Maladria's eyes, making no attempt to move or harm the man.

She indicated the cuffs. "Those're the strongest we could come up with. An alloy of adamantium and a metal called tri-lithium. They cost a fortune, and we're pretty sure you won't be able to break them."

When the young man stood up, nodding, Maladria worked for a moment with something behind Jubilee's back. Undoing her restraints, Logan realized with a breath of relief. He'd trusted Mal, enough at least to lock himself up on her word, but there was nothing quite like having your trust validated.

"Who's we?" Logan grunted.

"We, Logan, are myself, my assistants, and every favor I've called in in the past week. Every favor anyone's owed me in the last twenty years."

He did try the cuffs now, experimentally attempting to snap them. "Whose favor to you constructed these stinkin' things?"

Maladria's eyes, lingering on him, were otherworldly. "They were cut and welded with Shiar technology." She spun Jubilee around and pulled out her gag. "You're free to go, Jubilation," she said cheerfully.

"Get outta here, Jubes," Logan growled. "Go back to the mansion and tell Storm where I am."

Jubilee glanced at him, listening, but without warning threw a series of hot plasma bursts at Maladria. Unfortunately, the other woman was prepared for just such an occurance, and repaid the young X-woman with a sharp blow to the head. Jubilee crumpled, and Maladria looked down at herself thoughtfully. The fireworks had burned through her clothing and crisped the skin of her stomach. She looked annoyed.

"Don't make me tie you up again, sweetie," she said to Jubilee through gritted teeth. "Get out of here."

Jubilee backed towards Logan, looking at Maladria but speaking to her teammate, mentor, and longtime friend. "I'm not leaving you, Wolvie."

He didn't look at her. His eyes never left his old partner. "Go back to the mansion."

But Jubilee did not follow his direction. She merely stood there, regarding Maladria warily.

Maladria laughed, thrilled in her own way. "The kid's as stubborn as you are, old man."

Logan frowned. "Do me a favor, Mal--hit 'er over the head again and leave 'er here."

"Wolvie!" Jubilee was outraged.

"Jubilation, GET OUT OF HERE!" he growled forcefully.

"No, I think she'd actually prefer to stay with you, Logan." Maladria was amused. "You have to give the kid some credit, darling--you should be grateful to have such dedication from one so young, and so pretty." She smiled at Jubilee, her sharp teeth dripping. "Especially when I doubt you've done much for her to deserve this kind of loyalty."

She looked back towards Jubilee, who was standing motionless next to Wolverine. "Do you want to stay with him?" she asked seriously. "I'll letcha--I like your style, sweetie."

Jubilee slowly nodded, once.

Logan growled furiously, but she ignored him, and Maladria tossed the other cuffs to the young man. They were not in fact regular bonds, but cuffs with special metal mitten extensions. To block her power, Logan recognized.

Jubilee allowed the man to reapply them to her wrists, which Logan saw were red and sore from struggling.

She neither struggled nor protested now. At last he looked into her eyes, not censuring her, but just looking. She was a brave kid, no doubt about that, and loyal to a fault.

What a mess this was becoming.

Maladria laughed. "Well, Logan my dearest, I'd say you're pretty fucked now."

"You said you wouldn't hurt her," he growled furiously.

Satisfied that both mutants were adequately restrained, she walked slowly over to Jubilee, standing with the youngest mutant between herself and Wolverine. "Well, that was before she decided she wanted to stay and hang with us awhile. It was her choice. And you do have to give her points for courage."

Maladria dropped her head, smelling Jubilee's hair but not breaking eye contact with Logan. When she continued, her voice was very low. "Oh Jubilation, you're a cutie. Just don't get me wrong--I will saw off all your limbs if I have to, to keep your friend here in line. That's why I know he's going to behave himself." She glanced down, noting Jubilee's expression, then looked back up into Wolverine's eyes.

"And you know I'll do it, Logan. I still don't have any compunctions about taking human life. Or mutant life, for that matter." Jubilee gasped as the other woman's tongue crept out and found her cheek, quickly but delicately running up her cheek to her temple.

Logan, still looking into those devilish eyes, took an involuntary step forward, almost tripping over the ankle restraints. "Don't.Touch.Her."

Maladria laughed in response, and Logan's heart skipped a beat at the disturbing quality of the sound. This was bad.

The young man shoved him to his knees on the ground, and he didn't resist. How could he? Jubilee stood there, bound once again, looking down at him with Maladria, whose eyes followed his every movement. When the needle of the syringe slid into the flesh of his throat, he did not resist.

For the first time in a long time, Wolverine was afraid. He never felt fear anymore, at least not for himself, but looking up at the two feminine faces of his young friend and his old friend, one gentle, one sharp, he experienced fear once again.

Wolverine closed his eyes in pain, and he slid to the ground as the drugs began to take effect.

____________________

Xavier muttered as he slowly awoke. "What is this...where am I? Jean, are you there? Jean!"

But it was Magneto's voice that rose out from the darkness. "No, old friend, it's me."

Xavier weakly pressed a hand to his head. "What did you--Magnus! Why have you done this?!"

Magnus looked at him sadly. "Because someone has to take care of you, as you are no longer taking care of yourself. I may not agree with your beliefs, but I respect you--and your Dream--enough not to let you waste away in some human prison."

Xavier's eyes burned. "You had no right," he said coldly.

Magnus met his gaze squarely, unashamed of himself and his arguably questionable actions. "Charles, think about it. Who besides yourself could lead the X-Men? Who has your degree of power, your diplomatic skills, your political saavy and experience? Even now that you're a known mutant, you still put a very human face on the mutant problem. No X-Man, indeed no other mutant on the planet could lead your children the way you can. Jean Grey doesn't have the discipline, or the presence you have. Dr. McCoy doesn't even appear human--no one's going to listen to him, no matter what he has to say. And Scott Summers? I think not. Competent though he might be, he's rather brash." He paused. "Ororo Munroe may have leadership abilities, but she could not be the pillar of strength to them that you are. They all respect you in a way they respect no one else. And none of them could ever really take your place." His voice was lingering somewhere in the vicinity of sad.

"So you'll be gone for a little while. Do the laws of humans, misapplied in rage and bigotry, really mean so much to you? Your mind is far too precious to waste away, drugged and rotting in some cell." His eyes bored into Xavier's. "And not just for your powers, Charles. You are too precious....to your X-Men, and to me."

Xavier was outraged, but these last statements quieted his anger slightly. As Magnus has known they would. Leaving his voice ragged. "And so you imprision me here instead of there? What's the difference?"

Magneto shrugged and rose. "I should think you would prefer my prison to theirs, Charles. At least you're conscious."

And he left.

Xavier lay back, rather stunned. He had NOt taken Magnus seriously when he'd threatened to 'make the decision for him.' Magnus was so opposed to meddling, who would have thought it?

/He doesn't like other people meddling in *his* plans, you old fool. He has no qualms about meddling in *yours*./

Xavier threw his head back and sighed. The ceiling was cracked, and he knew how it felt. This was bad.

_____________________________

When Wolverine woke up the pavilion was gone. He was in a cell. There was a metal bed, dirty mattress, toilet and sink in a tiny, dingy closet to his right. Jubilee was curled up in the corner, unconscious. The room was cold.

And then there was movement in the corner, on the other side of the bars. Maladria uncoiled herself slowly in the darkness.

"Mal." Wolverine's voice was rough and pissed.

She moved out from the shadows, resting her hands on the bars of his cell. "Logan. I just wanted to have a word with you before things get started. I was going to make it a surprise, but I want you to hear the truth, from my own lips." She grinned and smacked them loudly. "These lips you know so well," she added.

He raised an eyebrow.

But then her mood altered. She glanced at the floor, and let her gaze rest there. "I'm going to die."

His heart skipped a beat. He'd cared for her, once if not now. "Oh, darlin'..."

Her head snapped up, and she bared her sharp teeth. "Oh, shut up, Logan. If there's anything I don't need, it's your sympathy."

She paused. "Besides, you're not going to like what I have to tell you. The reason, Logan, that I brought you here, is that I wanted to take your body. Possess it."

He scoffed. Body snatching? The importance of this new topic paled in his mind to the other. Maladria dying...the thought was bizarre. In his mind, she was immortal--she'd lived through too many crazy suicide missions to buy the farm now.

"Whatcha dyin' of?" His voice, though cold, held a lingering note of affection. He couldn't help it. She was psycho, and it was just like her to dream up some crazy plot like this. He couldn't blame her, if she was dying, and he couldn't hate her. Besides, not like her little body-possession fantasy was going to happen. He didn't believe in that shit.

"Legacy Virus," she answered stoically. "It isn't very far along, but it's compromised my pain immunity, to a degree, and I think I have a brain tumor now. I've tracked my bodily degeneration...I'm not going to live very long. It could be months, weeks, hours, but sooner or later it's going to happen. This body is definitely shot."

"Damn." His mind whirled. Maladria, with the Legacy Virus? With delusions of possessing his body to save herself. She was nuts.

On the other hand...he'd seen plenty of weird shit in his life, much weirder in fact than the idea of body-theft. And she might have a screwy moral code, but she'd never been insane with regard to reality. If she said she could do it, well, she probably could...he gritted his teeth at the thought. If anything happened to Jubes, he was never going to forgive himself....and he had a bad feeling about where this was going.

Maladria spun on one heel like a child, turning to face him. "I wanted your body because it was the best one I could think of, and I was relatively sure I'd be able to get you here and restrained without too much of a problem. And frankly, the idea of going through life with a healing factor's very comforting," she added with a trace of a smile.

But then another mood swing kicked in. He wondered if it was from her sickness; she'd never used to be like this. She sat down again, and when she spoke, her voice brimmed with sorrow. "But I didn't realize how old you've grown. Somehow...this is silly, but I didn't imagine you any older than when I knew you." Maladria's eyes moved over his body. "But you're not young anymore. You don't have as many years left as you did when I knew you, old pal.

"And as long as I'm stealing someone else's body, I figure I might as well go for a good one. Even if it means no healing ability, even if it means another lifetime of aging." She smiled. "Even if I never get the chance to play with your claws the way I've always wanted to. I've decided to take Jubilation's body instead."

Logan snarled openly now, and his stomach churned. "You won't enjoy it more'n ten minutes." He met her eyes. "Before I hunt you down and rip you apart."

She laughed. "Ah, 'Wolverine,' always threatening somebody. You're kind of a bully, you know that?

"Frankly dearest, I think even you would find it a tad difficult to harm the thoroughly adorable vessel of such a special friend...especially when it's all you'll have left of that friend." Maladria paused, stroking one fingertip over her neck, and lowered her voice. "Besides, it might be fun for you having me in her body. I'd be willing to bet my life that you want her, young though she might be, and you know she'd never be able to suck your cock like I can."

His growl was a roar, and he lunged at the bars, claws snikting out, slamming into the empty air when the manacles restrained him. All he could do was thank God Jubes was still out cold.

Mal ignored the outburst. "After you passed out, I had Jubilation write a little message to Jean Grey. Talked all about how great you guys' little vacation was going...it was really quite convincing, I think. So don't get your hopes up for any daring rescues."

She leaned closer to the bars. "You know, I'd much rather hear you beg than threaten me," she said teasingly.

Logan growled in refusal.

Maladria turned away, opening the outer door as if to leave. And then, spurred on by desperation or some reserve of emotion he did not know, he called out to her. His voice was strong and quiet.

"Mal...no. Please....for old times' sake." He stared at her, imploring. "Take my body instead."

She half-turned back, her head tilted to one side as if considering it, but then she laughed.

"No thank you, Logan. It was meant to be this way, I think. It'll work out alright. Lots of our original plans took well to last-minute reworking when we were partners, if you remember."

She left him alone then, to wait for Jubilee's awakening while struggling in vain against the cuffs.

______________________

+several hours after Magneto's departure+

This was bad. Xavier's eyes searched the room. He had to get out of here. Escape somehow. He would call the X-Men with his powers. Granted he had no idea where he was, but he could at least let them know what had transpired.

But when he tried to call to Jean, gathering to himself the essence of what he knew her mind to be, he could not reach her.

It was strange and terrible. Xavier had no idea why he would be unable to reach her. He was indeed trapped. And alone.

/But is it really that terrible?/ his mind whispered. It was a treacherous organ, his mind. Now that he was locked up here, both alone with Magnus and simultaneously at his mercy...well, the situation could be worse.

He should have known Magnus would play on Xavier's longings for him. Would use it against him. He did love Magneto, though he'd never voiced that particular emotion to the other man. He doubted Magnus reciprocated his love in kind, though he surely realized it was there. Nevertheless, there was undeniable affection, mutual respect, and a strong dose of lust between them that went back decades. Those things were enough for Xavier. Besides, he wouldn't know what to do with Magnus' love if he had it. It certainly wasn't as though they could live together.

Ha.

This scenario was going to degenerate very rapidly into that syndrome in which abductees come to identify with and love their kidnapper. Stockholm Syndrome, that was it. He already loved Magnus, after all. All that was left was to identify with Magnus' cause. Heavens help me, Xavier thought with a smile.

When he heard the quick tred of Magnus' steps in the corridor, he dropped his head into his hands. Magnus entered bearing a bowl of soup and some bread.

"Charles."

He didn't look up.

"Charles, look at me."

Xavier raised his head. As always, Magnus' strong face wore sorrow like a mantle.

"Charles, you have to eat."

"No."

"Yes Charles, you do." Magnus' voice was calm, as though his conscience actually merited such dignified, serene peace of mind.

"Why can't I call to Jean?" he asked.

Magnus looked him straight in the eye. "I constructed this place specifically to contain and suppress telepathic communications."

Xavier stared at him.

Magnus sat down by his bedside. "Charles, I want to make a deal with you."

Xavier didn't say anything.

"I want you to stay here with me. For two weeks, as my guest." He took a breath. "If at the end of those weeks you still desire to leave, I will contact the X-Men and they can come and get you."

Xavier was wary. "The first thing I'll do is turn myself in."

Magnus' expression did not change. "I will not stop you."

"I'll get in even more trouble for disappearing like this." But Xavier heard the lilt of humor in his own voice.

"That's ridiculous. You will be there then, what more can they ask? If that's not good enough, so be it." A rare smile draped itself over his lips. "Besides, what are they going to do? Drug you into a permanent coma instead of mere day-to-day unconsciousness?"

Xavier gazed at him.

Magnus leaned closer. "Charles...give me this time," he said quietly. "I think you owe me that much."

And just like that, Xavier gave himself over to it. Reaching out, he took the other mutant's hand. "All right. Two weeks."

He did not miss the tremble in Magnus' fingers.

_________________________

When Jubilee finally stirred, moaning in her sleep, Wolverine breathed out in relief. He'd started wondering if she would ever wake up at all, and from where he was manacled there was no reaching her. He could barely get into the tiny, dirty bathroom, and even then the door wouldn't entirely shut around his chains.

"Jubes! Wake up!"

After a moment she sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Ugh."

"Jubes, are ya ok?"

She uncurled her body, stood up, stretched. The metal mittens were still on her hands, but she was not chained to the wall as he was. "Fine, no thanks to you. I don't know where you find these people, Wolvie," she said in an annoyed voice, and he knew she was all right. "Can't you ever date someone normal?!"

He gave her a surprised look, and she rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm not as dumb or whatever as you all apparently think I am."

Logan changed the subject. "When did they get you?"

Jubilee brushed her outfit off as best she could with the metal still covering her hands. "The day after you left. I was rollerblading in the parking lot at the convenience store."

"You wouldn've happened to encode any sorta message in that note she had you write, would ya?" he asked without any real hope.

Her eyes were wise. "I thought of doing that, but she was dictating."

He nodded. He'd figured.

"C'mere kiddo." He jerked his head towards the floor next to him, and she curled up again against his side. She picked at the food they'd been left and sighed.

"I wish this place had a tv."

______________________

For Xavier, the two weeks with Magnus passed in a blur of chess and sex and simple meals and quiet talking. And sometimes just silence. By mutual, unspoken decree, the outside world and human-mutant relations were not discussed. Xavier reveled in the other mutant's company, as he always had, and Magnus seemed equally gratified by Xavier's presence in his home.

For the first time in a long time, Xavier was profoundly content. It was eerie that he could feel so good while so apart from the world, so far away from all that he cared about--his Dream, his students, his X-Men. But he could, and he did.

__________________________

Maladria didn't return to their cell for a week, and it was one of the worst weeks of Wolverine's long life. Jubilee wasn't happy either. With no rollerblades and no tv, the young mutant was bored out of her mind.

However, she did discover two blankets and a set of playing cards stowed under the cheap mattress. The cards weren't much, admittedly, but it was a thrilling find after two days of nothing. They played every card game either one of them could think of, from Crazy Eights to War. He even taught her three variations of poker.

But his heart wasn't in it.

She complained occasionally that she'd never imagined being taken prisoner would be so darned boring. Nevertheless, she did seem to take comfort in his company.

He did not, however, take much pleasure in hers. He couldn't. He was too afraid for her.

He didn't tell her of Mal's intentions. There was no point, he figured, in worrying her. Besides, he had renewed hope in the X-Men. There was a chance they *would* figure out something was wrong, if they got "Jubilee's" note and realized Jubes had disappeared the day after Logan left, and not the same day. Maybe they would, maybe they wouldn't.

Chances were they wouldn't, considering how infrequently anyone normally saw Wolverine around the mansion and how focused everyone was on the Professor's problem. Also, he hadn't told anyone when he was going; he'd just left. In the meantime, there wasn't much he could do besides dread Mal's return to their little prison paradise. Hey, at least it had a toilet--he'd been in worse.

Twice a day the same young male slid food and water into the prison. Twice a day, when the outer door opened, Logan's stomach twisted, wondering if this would be the point at which Mal would take Jubilee.

And then it happened. It was quick and sudden--so quick it was almost like she'd never been there at all. She came in without warning and shot a dart through the bars, straight into Jubes' exposed arm. Then she opened the inner door, grabbed Jubilee, who was already looking woozy, and hauled her out. There was nothing he could do but howl at his former partner and strain once again against the chains and cuffs that bound him.

And then they were gone. And he was, after all, alone.

___________________________

On the final night, Xavier was not ready to leave.

It was perfect--so perfect he suspected Magnus had intended it to be so. They were in the smallest of the sitting rooms. The steaks had been perfect, the tea was hot and Magnus had a fire going. There was a silky rug in front of the fireplace, and they lay side-by-side on it. The wind outside was bitingly cold; they could hear it blowing furiously past the windows, but Xavier felt warm and safe.

He rolled over and studied Magnus thoughtfully.

"I've missed this," he said simply.

Magnus smiled dryly. "This intimacy," he said. "Yes."

He reached down and slowly began to unbutton Xavier's shirt. Xavier watched him. Magnus' face had settled intently on his task, and he removed all of Xavier's clothing before attending to his own.

Xavier sighed as Magnus' hands began to roam over his body. This thrilled him to no end. It was rare for Magnus to initiate sex even at the best of times, and there was nothing else in the universe quite like the feel of those fingers on his skin.

He took Xavier in a long, slow kiss, hands still roving over the other man's body. All of the kisses were especially slow and gentle, and Magnus stroked his body as if it were an infinitely precious crystal. Magnus was always a respectful lover, but that night went beyond the pale. When he finally made love to Xavier, it was unusually tender even for him, and he took great care in pleasuring Xavier every way he could.

It was a night such as there had not been since they were young men. Before destiny had led each down a unique path upon which the other simply could not follow.

________________________

When the outer door of his prison swung open an hour later, the last person in the world he was expecting to see stood lounging there: Gambit.

The Cajun did a slight bow as he came in. "Mon ami."

Logan was agitated. "Gambit! Find Jubes! Maladria--"

"La petite is jest fine. She wit' Jean in de Blackbird. In fact, she worried 'bout you." Gambit sent a charge of kinetic energy into the barred inner door, then kicked it in. "De femme hurt you 't all?"

"No, I'm fine," he growled. "Or I will be, as soon as I shred her limb from limb."

Gambit nudged him to one side and knelt behind him to examine the restraints. After a moment he withdrew a set of lockpicks from his back pocket, selected one and began fiddling with the cuffs. "Might not wan' t' hurt her anymore, homme, she already dyin'."

"I know," Logan began, but the younger mutant shook his head. "Won't be time for dat sort of t'ing--Gambit mean dyin' right now."

Logan snarled. "Then get me outta these things, Gumbo!"

"Gambit tryin', homme! T'would help 'f you could stand still," he said with some frustration. "Dere," he finally said, and stood up.

Logan was already halfway out into the corridor, and he followed the passage to a larger room, Gambit right behind him.

The place was wrecked, broken lights and unnaturally crumbled bricks clear evidence of a fight despite the lack of furnishings. She was lying on the ground, Beast and Cyke at her side.

He went to her, kneeling, and took her hand. Her thoughtful dark eyes met his lazily, and her voice was soft, as though she were only falling asleep. "See you in hell, darling."

He squeezed her hand, but it was a pointless gesture. Her eyes closed then, and Beast placed two fingers on the pulse-point in her neck.

"She's gone, Logan," Beast said gently, in his most clinical doctor's voice. His eyes belied his sympathy.

Wolverine was furious. "What happened to her!? She was fine!"

/I'm not going to live very long. It could be months, weeks...hours./

And now she was dead.

Beast stood up. "She was practicing karate moves on Scott when she collapsed. I am not certain exactly what happened." He looked thoughtful. "But I'm sure I can find out."

Cyclops nodded. "We can bring her back in the Blackbird, and Beast can figure out what happened in the medical facilities."

Wolverine shook his head and stood up. "Legacy Virus," he said. "Or brain tumor. I need a cigar."

Beast and Cyclops both stared at him.

________________________

It was some time later that Magnus finally spoke. "Charles."

"Yes, Magnus."

"Do you want to return to Westchester, now?"

Xavier stared emptily at a portrait of a young woman on the wall. She appeared to be of Germanic descent, but surely it wasn't Magda, or Anya. "No, I don't want to. But I must."

Magnus nodded, as though it had been exactly the answer he'd expected.

Xavier sighed. "Sometimes," he started to say, but his voice unexpectedly trailed off. He wished...he didn't know what he wished. He turned over, propping up his elbow and resting his head on his hand. Magnus' face was strangely grim.

"What are you thinking about?" Xavier asked.

Magnus twisted his head to look at him, and he paused in thought before responding.

"So-called 'normal' lives are not something individuals like us can attain, Charles. Not now, perhaps never in our lifetimes. There are more important things to be done. You know that, and I know that." Magnus rested his head back down on the floor. "But just because I recognize a more important life purpose--one far different from yours--doesn't mean I don't long for the same things you do.

"Thank you for taking this leave of absence with me, Charles."

He didn't need to say anything more. Xavier drew closer to him and they lay quietly together. With the smoldering heat of the fire and the dying heat of their passion, eventually Xavier began to doze and at last fell into a deep sleep.

___________________________

Jubilee grabbed him the second he got on board the Blackbird. "Wolvie!"

A rare smile graced his face when he saw her, and he caught her up in a tight hug. "I was worried 'bout you, kiddo," he said gravely.

Jean hugged him too, and he savored the moment of closeness to her. "How'd ya find us?" he asked.

"With Cerebro," she answered. "The Professor's been missing for almost two weeks, and it took me quite awhile to be able to locate you myself. When Jubilee went MIA, we started to worry."

"Yeah, I thought you might...she must've wanted to take Jubes around the same time as my departure. Guess she miscalculated." He paused. "Not like her to screw stuff up. When she did something, she did it right."

Jean lowered her eyes. "Maybe this time, she didn't want to do it right."

He glanced sharply at her, disturbed, but then Jubilee grabbed him in another sudden hug. Jean's comment slipped from his mind as he closed his eyes and relished the feel of his young friend, safe in his arms.

Safe--thank God she was safe. Safe from the fingers his past had reached into his present.

Beast stowed the body in the storage area in back. If nothing else, they could at least provide her with an autopsy and a decent burial.

Wolverine leaned back in his seat. He was tired. He needed to go away for awhile, forget about all this mess. He could take the Jeep again, maybe head west a little. He'd definitely had enough of the North for awhile.

He realized then that it had been exactly two weeks since he left the X-Mansion to meet Mal.

Two weeks'd be a good length of 'vacation' time, too. Just as soon as they found the Professor...

___________________________

+24 hours later+

Xavier awoke cold. Magnus was gone, and the fire had burned itself out. Gathering his clothes, he began to dress slowly. When he finished he managed to half lift, half drag himself up into the chair.

As he was beginning to wheel himself out into the corridor, Magnus returned. He seemed surprised to see Xavier dressed and up, but did not remark on it. "I have contacted the X-Men, Charles. Logan and Dr. McCoy will be here within a half hour."

Xavier was startled. He'd expected Magnus to either take him back himself or drop him somewhere and let the X-Men come and get him. The possibility that Magnus would allow the X-Men the coordinates of his hideaway had not even occurred to him. It was odd how much Magnus appeared to be trusting him, considering they were still enemies.

Xavier sighed. No matter what went on between them in private, it seemed they were forever fated to be on opposite sides of public conflicts.

They proceeded slowly up to the stronghold's rooftop, where a small landing pad was set into the roof.

Nothing was said. There was nothing to say. The Blackbird arrived quickly, and Logan strode down the ramp, Hank following closely behind.The Beast was wearing a huge, toothy grin.

"Professor! We were so worried..." Yes, Hank would be happy to see him. Logan only nodded his hello, but his blue eyes were warm. Xavier greeted them normally, but Magneto's presence made for a decidedly awkward moment of reunion.

Magnus had never been one for long goodbyes, and today would no doubt be no exception. Still, before Beast picked him up to board the Blackbird, Xavier gently squeezed his friend's limp hand. "Thank you, Magnus," he whispered.

"Goodbye, Charles." Magnus' eyes were openly sorrowful, but his voice was closed.

And then Beast carefully plucked him out of the wheelchair, as a groom lifts a bride to cross the honeymoon threshold, and they boarded the Blackbird.

Xavier watched from the air as Magnus retreated into his house.

__________________________

Sitting in the Blackbird, the Professor tried his best to explain what had transpired in his office at the X-Mansion those two weeks ago. And all the events since, leaving out all the juicy parts, of course. Magnus' invitation, all the sex, etc. It was a well-mangled explanation, but it was enough to satisfy the two X-Men.

When he finished, Logan's eyes were wide, and he was smirking. "I've heard of friends not lettin' friends do drugs, but that's pretty extreme, Chuck."

Beast grinned happily, but then sobered. "As far as druggings go, Professor, things are looking up." He glanced at Wolverine. "Kind of." He cleared his throat. "The Senate sub-committee has decided to censure you and the entire team X-Men. Nevertheless, indict you, they will not."

Xavier's eyes widened in surprise. "What happened? It seemed like a sure thing."

Beast inclined his head. "Three of the committee's members, including the Chair, were killed in an automobile accident eleven days ago."

Xavier was shocked. It was Magnus. It had to be.

"Eleven days ago, did you say?" he asked weakly.

Beast nodded, raising his eyebrows with concern. "Representative Brentano was also in the car at the time, and along with his death the national furor does seem to have died down a bit. There was no evidence of foul play. In the meantime, information about the three of them and two others has come to the fore... together they were running a prostitution ring in DC--with soft money, no less." Beast shook his head, mystified. "It's all caused quite a scandal, so they are not being martyred as one might expect...are you all right, Professor?"

Was it eleven days?--Yes--oh gods, yes. It had been eleven days ago that Magnus had left. He'd been out for at least five hours eleven days ago. Getting supplies, he'd said.

Xavier fainted.

________________________________

-epilogue-

Beast had cremated the body that morning--Maladria had in fact had an extremely large, malignant tumor outside the medulla oblongata. Beast had admitted he was amazed by its immense size. "Fascinating," he'd told Xavier. "It was crushing her brain. I'm surprised it wasn't making a palpable, visible lump on the side of her head."

They'd held a service out in one of the gardens that afternoon. The service had been short--the only one who'd known her at all was Wolverine, who didn't attend because he'd left in the middle of the night. Jubilee did go, and she even cried for reasons she couldn't explain. Kurt read from the Bible, Xavier read an extremely moving selection of poetry--that was when Jubilee cried--and they all went back in the house, only to go their separate ways.

Rogue and Storm left for a relatively standard mission, and Xavier went back to his office to brood. Cyke and Jean headed for the Danger Room, and Gambit left for a date. Bobby and Beast pulled out Monopoly for a rematch of their game some eighteen days ago, and Jubilee joined them.

"*I* shall be the banker this time," Beast announced pointedly to Bobby, who rolled his eyes. "Bobby cheats," he informed Jubilee.

"So I've heard," she responded, popping a stick of gum into her mouth. "Can I be the battleship?"

Beast eyed her for a moment--she'd been through a lot with this latest bout of goings-on. She seemed to be doing fine, though, which duly impressed him. Resourceful child, he thought, handing her the tiny piece of metal.

________________________

Meanwhile, Xavier was back in his office. He missed Magnus already. He would never forget that quiet, strangely peaceful domestic feeling he'd experienced over the course of those two weeks, but he feared it was gone. For good.

Xavier could not believe what the other mutant had done. He was unembarrassed about passing out like that in the Blackbird, but it shamed him no end how secretly--touched?--he was that Magnus evidently cared enough to murder to protect him. Sick though it was, it might be the only physically tangible way Magnus had ever expressed any feelings for him. Still, there was no question that it was a horrific method of resolution for his problem. How like Magnus not to care about the means so much as the ends.

But it was inarguably nice to have the problem resolved--though even as he thought it, Xavier had to shake his head at himself--and there was no use pretending he didn't miss the other mutant. He moved his hover chair nearer to the window and looked out at the stars.

/Magnus, I wish I didn't love you,/ he thought fiercely. /You contradict all I believe in, and fight for. In loving you...I have failed my own soul./

Xavier rolled his chair away from the window. It was time for bed, and he was not unused to sleeping alone.

-finis-

Hope you liked. Please, this is my longest and most serious fic to date. More than anything, I just want to know if anyone actually read it beginning to end...