Disclaimer: Following characters are spin-offs from the actual characters from the X-men under Marvel's property. Sue me if you like, I have no money anyways.
Note: Oy vey! :)

A Place in this World
by Vicki Lew
February 1998

Chapter 3

"Let's see...A fractured arm, infected scrapes and possibly a slight concussion...Cracked ribs...She should be suffering from hypothermia right now, considering the harsh weather that she has been exposed to this past night. It appears that she possesses an Alpha-class DNA structure, with abilities that have yet to surface fully. At this moment, I can safely confirm that she has a higher physical tolerance than humans have." Hank McCoy raised an X-ray negative to the light as he narrated the results of the DNA test to Remy LeBeau. "More interestingly, would be her prominent power (for now) to streamline the potential energy into any desired area of her body...blah blah blah..."

At that point, the Cajun's hearing turned off. Too much scientific prattle. Remy requested in a slightly irritated tone for the resident doctor to rephrase himself in simple English.

"What, she a mutant too den?" he snapped.

Hank looked up sharply, slightly surprised at his teammate's sudden outburst. Remy caught himself just in time from snapping at Hank again and ran his hand through his hair.

"Sorry." He avoided the doctor's gaze. "I'm jus' angry dat she been through all dat, y'know?"

"Understood...And forgiven, gumbo left-overs...Yes, she's a mutant, like us."

"Lis'sen, she don' like t'be held down dere in the cell, can she at least stay in de infirmary, Henri...'S not fair t'her. 'Sides, I t'ink we could get her t'talk more if de environment be less depressing, non?"

Hank lifted a curious eyebrow and considered the Cajun's point. So, his friend had a soft spot for a certain someone...

"Well...We all have responsibilities, Remy. We hardly know anything about her. If she tries to escape and threatens to endanger our existence, will you take that responsibility?"

"Gambit make sure she behave, promise." The man grinned from ear to ear, bearing the excitement of a five year-old. Hank found it amusing; after a little more consideration, he decided to 'discharge' his patient from her present quarters.

She peered patiently out between the bars of her cell, waiting for her friend to make his daily visit. They didn't talk much (well, she didn't want to) but she enjoyed being around him. His smile, his soothing accented drawl, his mesmerizing eyes.

Oh, yes. She definitely liked him.

Hearing footsteps, she looked sharply up, expecting the man who called himself Remy LeBeau. To her disappointment, it was a red-headed lady. Although the stranger smiled warmly at her, she didn't welcome her presence. She crept into the darkest corner of the cell and erected walls around herself.

"Hello," The stranger walked into the cell after going through the security check and introduced herself. "My name's Jean..."

In response, she stared coldly at the wall.

Jean stooped down beside her and asked, "What's wrong?"

After a few observations on the special force field during the visits from the man, she understood how it worked. She snarled and lunged at Jean, quick as lightning, knocking the telepath over hard. They both stumbled into the force field, confusing the security system with two signatures; she managed to pass through unscathed.

Dropping the redhead after giving her a hard knock, she sprinted down the narrow hallway trying desperately to find the way out. Her arm hurt and she was getting breathless from an odd pressure in her ribs, but she pushed on.

"Wait!" She heard Jean cry, but it went ignored.

She ran up the stairs, into winding corridors before finally bursting into the grand hall. Gasping painfully, the young woman paused only to grab a thick coat from the coat rack by the main doors. Flinging the doors open, she plunged into the white plains before her.

"Wait!"

This time it was a man's voice, the one that she had heard the most while she was in the cell.

Halting her trudge through the knee-deep snow, she turned around to look at her handsome 'friend'.

"I thought we be friends, no? Where ya goin'? Ya hurt, don' wanna see dat arm get worse, girl." He put out his arm, as if reaching for her. "C'mon. I wanna help. I wanna be your friend, if'n ya'll let me, o'course,"

Puffs of steam swirled round her face, her chest heaving from her exertions. She felt an acute pain in her side, and an aching in her whole body. Her arm felt like a hot poker. Plus, she was scared and lost. But she didn't want to be locked up again. It was no better than the years she spent in solitude in her bedroom.

The man came out into the open now, and stood just a few feet from her.

He spoke softly, "I know dat ya don' wanna be locked up dere. But we got reasons for dat. I promise ya, no more of dat, 'cos you gonna have a room of ya own now, and you gonna have all de freedom ya want. Jus' let your injuries heal at least, chere,"

The pain was getting worse; she wavered a bit.

"Ya gonna trust me?"

He flashed a disarmingly charming grin at her.

Her eyes were rolling back in their sockets, and the next thing she knew, someone turned off the lights on her...

He lit another cigarette and leaned back in his chair.

"So...The Xavier Institute of Higher Learning?" Senator O'Connor tossed the lighter back onto his desk. "She's there?"

"There ain't nowhere else she could've gone...The leads stop there anyway."

"And how do you plan to get her back, Randolph?"

Gedrick shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I...haven't come up with anything yet."

"She trusts you. Surely you can come up with something. Now go!"

"On my way. Sir."

It took Gedrick all his reserve not to slam the door down on his way out.

Continued in Chapter 4

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