More Than the X Can See

Chapter 8

It was the annual Kickoff the Summer Season Saturday Pool Party at the Institute. Everyone who worked at the Institute was invited, as were the students who had not returned home for the summer. It lasted from nine in the morning until midnight although some stalwarts carried it through to dawn or later. The Activity Building located next to the pool was actually more like a large house with an extra large garage. The garage area stored the maintenance equipment for the grounds. The house side faced the Olympic size pool and two Jacuzzis. On one end, it had a dry sauna and on the other a steam sauna. They both had two doors so they could be entered from the interior or exterior. Between it contained two changing rooms with extra swimsuits in various sizes, two large public bathrooms, a washer and dryer with a walk in linen closet in the next room full of towels, full size gym, a large storage room for gym and sports equipment, a storage room for the patio furniture during the winter and a complete kitchen with two refrigerators containing icemakers. One of the refrigerators was specifically set up with a lock to hold only drinks including alcohol. On the outside of the building near the pool were two showerheads. At one end of the building was a raised brick eight feet long barbeque pit with it’s own roof separate from the house extending over the area set aside for wood. There was a patio dining area off to the side near the pit along the length of the pool, which included umbrella tables, loose chairs and several large trashcans. On the other side of the dining area, was the sporting green, which was used for most of the outdoor sports that were played on grass from football and soccer to volleyball. On the opposite side of the pool from the dining area were a set of four chain fenced tennis courts and a set of four basketball courts along the other side of the pool.

Charles, Hank, and Scott sat talking and drinking ice-cold beverages at an umbrella table in the dining area near the pool when Hank’s ears picked up Logan’s voice. Looking over, Hank spied Logan pushing Angel in a wheelchair up the sidewalk leading to the dining area. Angel wore a sky blue t-shirt with matching shorts and a pair of sandals while Logan was still only wearing his cutoff jeans and cowboy hat. Angel laughed loudly at something he said, her voice a ringing peal in a lull in the music catching several partygoers’ attention, including nurse Annie’s.

“You’re kidding!” Angel exclaimed, “Cyclops?”

“You have to see his headgear to know what I mean,” Logan explained.

“Okay, but I still don’t understand why a man like Hank would call himself Beast. He’s much more intelligent—”

“Mr. Logan!” Annie yelled from the shallow end of the pool where Cain and she had been helping her son, Carter, learn how to swim. “What do you think you’re doing, bringing her out here?”

Logan and Angel exchanged a glance and Angel giggled then called out, “I broke the heart monitor!” Then she added, “And I’m still hungry!”

Annie spoke to Cain briefly before she made her way to the pool stairs.

“What?” Jean asked Ororo next to her in the Jacuzzi, “She ate the heart monitor and she’s still hungry?”

Ororo shook her head, some of her white hair falling out of it’s loose braid and laying like white lace against her dark African skin, “I didn’t understand that either.”

They both got out of the roiling water and joined Annie as she walked over to the dining area. They were followed by many others at the party who hadn’t met the new teacher Professor Xavier had hired, but had heard about her miraculous survival of the explosion in White Plains.

Logan brought the wheelchair to a stop in the shade at the table occupied by the older men. “You want some water?” he asked Angel, courteously.

“I’d like a beer, but I don’t think Annie would approve.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Annie said as she approached them. Jean and Ororo moved to either side of her when she stopped.

“You’re on medication, too,” he reminded Angel. “I’ll check and see what’s available.” He looked at Annie, “She ate what ya left for her, but she was still hungry. I thought it’d be alright to bring her out here since the heart monitor wasn’t workin’.” He left them, heading towards the Activity Building and its kitchen.

“What did you mean when you said you broke the heart monitor?” Charles inquired, his clipped British voice giving his question more weight than he intended.

Angel’s eyes slid from Logan to Charles to look at his expression and then down into her lap. She hadn’t been expecting to tell a crowd what had happened and she got a minor case of stage fright. Her teeth worried her lower lip, biting it. “I … um … slammed it into the wall and crushed it,” she said the last in a rush.

“What?!” Scott exclaimed looking from her to Charles and back at her.

“Logan said you’d be okay with it and I should’ve told you about my other abilities when I first arrived,” she added quickly.

“Other abilities?” Hank repeated eagerly wishing he had her file in front of him, “What else can you do?”

The crowd around them grew as the other partygoers arrived to surround them and listen to their conversation.

“Well,” she said drawing out the word, “I can crush things. It used to be like a little shove or push when I was a toddler, but I guess it’s grown and turned into a pretty powerful crushing force now.”

“You didn’t know?” Hank asked.

She shook her head, “I haven’t used it since then, since I was four or five. My parents told me not to use it or my other trick once I started going to school. They didn’t want me to have the double stigmas of being raised by lesbians AND a mutant.”

“I think she has something in common with Rogue,” Ororo commented to Jean who nodded in agreement.

“What’s your other ‘trick’?” Scott asked.

“A … ‘bubble’. It’s sort of clear and things can’t get through it,” she explained. “I used it during the explosion in White Plains, but like I told Logan, it didn’t work very well.”

Charles, Hank and Scott all exchanged glances quickly. Charles leaned back in his chair, “How big was this ‘bubble’ you created when you used it in the sewers?”

“It blocked off the beginning of the explosion, but the force and heat was too much and I lost control of it,” she said innocently.

Just as Logan was about to enter the building, Alison “Magma” Crestmere appeared in the doorway carrying an unopened Snapple bottle in her hand. “Thanks,” he told her as he grabbed it and headed back towards the dining area. Alison was so startled to have Logan grab the fruit drink out of her hand, which is completely out of character for him, she just stared openmouthed as he walked away. Arriving at the dining area, he made his way through the crowd and put the ice-cold Snapple on the table in front of Angel. “Here ya go, Darlin’,” he said cheerfully, “I’ll get ya a hot dog t’ start with. You like mustard or relish?”

“Mustard and some of the salad, too, if you don’t mind,” Angel smiled up at him, “Thank you.” She reached over and twisted the lid open on her Snapple and took a drink.

“Logan,” Charles called, stopping him from leaving, “what did Angel do to the heart monitor?”

“She pancaked it,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s ‘bout an inch thick and embedded in the wall behind her bed.”

Someone in the crowd whistled at his description, and several people began to talk at once. Charles held up his hands and the crowd around the table slowly began to quiet down. He'd find out later why she'd destroyed the machine. Right now they needed to know how powerful her other mutant abilties were. “Angel,” he smiled gently, “do you think you could demonstrate these other abilities of yours for us? Do you feel up to it?”

“I feel fine,” Angel told him. “I don’t feel sick at all anymore, just hungry,” she looked pointedly at Logan who nodded briefly and made his way back out through the crowd.

“Then let’s have you give us a small demonstration.” Charles looked at the assembled crowd and locked eyes on Robert “Iceman” Drake, “Bobby, could you do us a favor and create some targets on the green for Angel to knock down?”

“Sure!” Bobby replied and the crowd parted to allow him a direct route to the large grassy area nearby.

“Bobby!” Logan called from the large barbeque shed at the end of the dining area. Bobby stopped on the edge of the green and turned to look inquiringly at him. Logan spread his hands wide, “Big! She’ll pulverize anything small!” Bobby gave him a disbelieving look and then searched out Charles in the crowd.

“Do as Logan says!” Charles advised.

“Okay!” Bobby said shaking his head and heading towards the end third of the green.

While Bobby started creating large, tall ice sculptures, Logan brought Angel a plate with a hot dog in a bun with a packet of mustard and a small green salad with a packet of ranch dressing. “Let’s see how you do on this,” he told her as he placed the plate and clear plastic silverware in front of her.

Angel put the condiments on her food and began to eat while he grabbed a chair from another table set and brought it over next to her wheelchair and then headed back to the food area.

Several of the crowd walked over to watch Bobby as he created huge ice sculptures, some of them giving him suggestions for the sculptures. The rest of the crowd returned to their previous pursuits, knowing that the ‘show’ would start after Angel finished eating her lunch.

Logan returned with two bottled beers in his hands and set one down on the table and twisted the other open as he sat down. Angel noticed the label wasn’t familiar and she turned it so she could read the title section, Molson Canadian Lager.

“Molson Canadian?” she asked him. “Is it any good?”

“American beer tastes like piss. When you’re off your meds, I’ll introduce ya t’ REAL beer,” he said and took a swig from his bottle.

Angel raised an eyebrow at him as she picked up her fork and took a bite of salad. She ate slowly, chewing her food thoroughly, although what she really wanted to do was wolf it down and have Logan get her another plate.

“Why did you ‘pancake’,” Hank sent Logan a glance, “the heart monitor?”

Logan took another swig of beer, but his eyes went sideways to look at Angel. He’d let her decide if she would explain their almost sexual liaison or lie about the circumstances. She chose the lie as she quickly said, “I had a bad dream, a nightmare about the werewolves in the sewers. I was dreaming that I had discovered another cache of crates further up the sewer line when a wave of them came up the sewer tunnel.”

“Another cache?” Logan asked.

She turned to him, “Yeah, it felt so real, too,” she said sincerely. “I’d swear there was another room or something further up the tunnel from where I climbed that ladder. Like it had been on the edge of my scanning, but I was to scared to notice.” She shook herself, “Thank God it was just a nightmare.”

“Do you think it was really there?” Logan asked.

“I don’t know,” she replied, “but the dream changed right around then. You climbed the ladder and told me I was safe, then it really started to get bizarre after that.”

“Bizarre, huh?” Logan remembered she’d immediately gone into a wet dream. He leaned back in his chair and his face got thoughtful, maybe she’d responded so easily to his advances because she’d been dreaming about him. Maybe … He began to smile in his contemplation.

Scott shrugged and offered, “If there had been one, the city would have found it when they did the damage inspection.”

“How far were you able to sense underground?” Hank asked. “In the sewers?”

Angel screwed up her face, “Well it depended upon the tunnels themselves. In thick areas I can only sense maybe a quarter mile, in thin up to a half.” Scott stared at her in surprise, he hadn’t expected her answer.

“Doesn’t the dirt and concrete stop your scanning?” Hank followed up.

“Not as much as you’d think,” she smiled. “I scan constantly so if I move around in an area I can create something like a map in my mind and areas I wasn’t able to scan before I might scan the other side or even the topside if I’m walking around on the sidewalks and therefore I’ll know what’s in the middle of two tunnels. I could probably still draw a fairly good map of the Berkeley sewers right now. They were my favorite place to explore when I was ten.”

“Even walking on the sidewalks?” Scott interjected.

“Yeah. When my parents found out I was going into the tunnels they started worrying about transients so I was restricted to above ground.”

“No, I mean—” Scott tried to correct himself.

“She scans 360 horizontal and vertical,” Logan said, getting his mind back to the matter at hand.

“That’s,” Scott pointed at Logan, “what I was trying to get clarified in my mind.”

“In a two mile radius, four miles diameter,” Angel further explained as she took another bite of salad.

“Extraordinary,” Hank stared at her.

Scott’s eyebrows raised up and he mouthed the words, “four miles.”

“Thank you, but I didn’t have much choice in it. My range just got larger as I got older.” She frowned in remembrance, “Although I probably had something to do with that when I was a teenager. I actually tried to practice going further with my scans, pushing what I could do.”

“So your range might have been trained?” Hank inquired, curious to understand her mutation.

“It might, but my range still increased without my trying as I got older.” She put an elbow on the table and her chin in her hand, “Of course, I was using it more and more, too. Relying on it to tell me what traffic was like ahead of me on the morning commute was the most common thing I did. Hmmm. I never thought about it like a trained ability before. I thought it was just something I could do.” Her other hand put her fork into her salad and brought it to her mouth without her looking at her fork or her plate.

A phone rang inside the Activity Building twice before someone inside picked it up. There was a blur of movement as someone streaked from the Activity Building to stand next to Charles. The blur became a tall thin man with blue eyes and black hair with silver streaks that covered his slightly tapering ears wearing black swim shorts with silver striping up the side. There was a portable phone handset in his hand that he was holding out to Charles. “Charles, it’s a telephone transfer from the emergency line. It’s Cable and he says it’s urgent that he speak to Archangel right away.” Angel would swear she’d seen a picture of the man with the phone somewhere.

“Thank you, Jean-Paul,” Charles said as he took the phone and put it to his ear. “This is Xavier,” he said into the phone. Angel noticed how the other men at the table reacted to the name Cable. Scott had tensed up and leaned forward with a look of concern on his face. Hank looked curious and maybe concerned. And Logan, although he was in a relaxed position in his chair taking another swallow of his beer, she knew his muscles had tensed up and he was ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation. Logan could hear Cable’s voice on the phone, “I can’t get hold of Archangel and need to talk to him.”

“‘Cable’?” Angel asked Logan, “That’s another code name, right?”

Logan looked at her over his bottle and nodded. Taking the bottle from his lips he said, “He’s a relative of Scott’s.”

“Why’d everyone tense up at his name?” she continued.

Logan straightened up in his chair throwing a glance at the other men around the table. The rest of the men looked directly at her, including Charles.

Charles was still looking at her as he responded to Cable on the phone, “Do you have his cell phone number?”

Cable was saying, “Yes, but I’m just getting the answering machine.”

“Hmmm. He may be on his way back from New York. He told me he was going to work a partial day to catch up on paperwork when I told him I was giving the staff a day off and we were planning on having a pool party and barbeque this afternoon. It’s Saturday here in the United States.”

“Darlin’, Cable used to be the leader of one of our agent teams. He can take care of himself in a lot of situations, but when he calls and says it’s urgent,” Logan advised her, “it usually means the shit’s about to hit the fan and several of us are gonna be leavin’.”

“I need to talk to him the moment he shows up,” Cable was saying. “I have information that the terrorist organization I’ve been tracking in the Middle East have plans to try an attack on some of his buildings in San Francisco. I checked my contacts in California and a few of them have gotten back to me and so far it’s been verified.”

“Where are you right now?” Charles asked.

“I’m over the Atlantic right now, should be at JFK in three hours. If Archangel can’t bother himself, I’m catching the next flight to SFO as soon as I get there,” Cable informed him.

“Shit!” Logan stood up, leaned forward over the table with his hand stretched out to Charles. “Give me the phone. Let me talk to him,” he demanded.

Charles shifted his gaze from Angel to Logan. “Wolverine’s been working with Archangel on some other attacks to Worthington Enterprises buildings and he wants to talk to you,” he then handed the phone to Logan.

“I heard what you told Chuck,” Logan said into the phone. “What’ve you got?” he asked as he walked away onto the green, phone to his ear in one hand and beer in the other.

Angel was still trying to figure out where she’d seen Jean-Paul. “Jean-Paul?” she said trying to get his attention before he walked away. “You look familiar. What’s your last name? Are you an X-Corporation agent?”

Jean-Paul had been watching Logan as he walked away. The way Logan reacted to the phone call made him concerned. He hoped it didn’t mean there’d been another incident somewhere similar to what had happened at White Plains. He was surprised by the blonde woman’s questions. “Beaubier,” he told her. “Recently, I’ve become an X-man. I used to belong with Alpha Flight out of Canada. Maybe you remember me from there?”

“What’s your agent name?” Now she began to remember where she’d seen his photograph. More than a few of the male dancers with her troupe had been homosexuals and they had their own favorite sports and media stars that they hero-worshipped. Mr. Beaubier was one of them, he went by the name—

“Northstar,” Jean-Paul answered with a smile.

“Oh, my Gawd!” Angel squealed happily, her Californian accent showing. Then she exclaimed, “Awesome! I totally know who you are! You’re even better looking in person! Oh, I wish I had my digital camera! They—will—not—believe—this! Ty is gonna kill me!”

Everyone was very surprised with Angel’s reaction, Jean-Paul most of all. Placing a hand on his chest, he asked, “You know who I am?”

“Yaw,” she said with a valley girl-like twist of her blonde head. “You wrote the book ‘Born Normal’. Your one of the first openly gay mutants and you were even part of one of your government’s agent teams. You’re a big celebrity in the homosexual community. I just never expected to meet you here or see you dressed like that.” She smiled slyly, “The guys would kill for a picture.”

“You’re involved in the homosexual community?” Jean-Paul asked her, starting to realize that the new teacher he would most likely have a working relationship with was very positive about his being a role model for homosexuals. He walked over to take the seat vacated by Logan.

“Yes, my parents were lesbians and I’ve been with a dance troupe out of the San Francisco Bay Area for over twenty years. More than half the men in the troupe are gay. That’s how I recognized you. One of the dancers, Ty, is infatuated with you.”

“Then we’ll definitely have to send him a picture,” Jean-Paul smiled, getting comfortable in the chair. He held out his hand, “I’m one of the economics and business teachers here at the Institute.”

“Wonderful!” Angel took his hand and shook it, “I’m not exactly sure what I’ll be teaching, but it could be Physics, Architecture, Biology or Dance.”

“Are you a member of the community?” Jean-Paul asked. “Or just family?”

“I’m bi,” she answered, “so I’m technically a member.”

He laughed “What’s the term—been there, done that. I’ve got an AIDS benefit at the end of this month. Would you like to come with me?”

Charles, Scott and Hank watched in astonishment at how easily and quickly Jean-Paul warmed to Angel. Charles knew he was usually quite remote with new people because he didn’t know how they would react to his status as a gay man in the mutant world. The men also took note of Angel’s sexual preference. There’d be some sexual fantasizing tonight.

“That’d be great! I’d really love to attend. You don’t know how many AIDS and HIV benefits I’ve danced at or raised money for.”

“What type of dance do you teach? We’re always looking for something to spice up the entertainment. You know how it is.”

“Sure do,” she grinned and rolled her eyes. “I can do just about anything given time to prepare. But at the drop of a hat I could do either Belly dance or Pacific Islander including Tahitian and Hawaiian. The Hippy-Hippy Shake-Shakes are always a good draw and get the most funds raised,” she raised her eyebrows up and down quickly several times, “among other things.” Jean-Paul laughed and nodded. “All I’d need is the right clothes and music and even that can be improvised.”

“Wonderful!” he exclaimed still nodding, “Let me go find out the exact dates and time of the benefit. Would you be willing to dance for us?” He stood up.

“Sure, no problem! Just give me some warning so I can get an outfit. I left most of them back home.”

“Which would you prefer? Belly dance or … what did you call them?” he frowned trying to remember.

“Pacific Islander? The easiest would be Belly dance because it looks good in singles or groups and you can dance around the audience. Tahitian and Hawaiian always looks better in a group and on stage.”

“Belly dance, then. I’ll go call the benefit coordinator and talk to her about getting you into the program.” He said smiling again, “I am so glad you recognized me. We’ll have to send … Ty? A photo of the two of us together.”

Angel smiled slyly, “I have a digital camera in my room. He could see it by tonight if I email it.”

“Are you going to stay out here?” Jean-Paul waved an arm indicating the pool area.

“Probably.”

“I’ll come back out here afterwards and we can discuss these photos you want to send over the Internet.”

“Great! Ty will be so envious. I have to warn you, we’ll have to take more than one photo, I don’t want him to accuse me of using Photoshop to falsify the pictures.”

He nodded at her then turned to look at the men at the table who had been silent during their conversation and gave them a sharp nod before he walked off to the main building to get the event coordinator’s phone number and call her.

“Cool,” Angel stated smiling a big smile at the men at the table as she grabbed her Snapple and took a drink. It was great that she’d made a friend so quickly who had a lot of the same interests. It was an added benefit that he was famous. She was going to be the envy of her friends. It was just too cool.

“Angel,” Charles said, it was gratifying to see Jean-Paul and her hitting it off so well, but he needed to return her attention to a critical matter, “You say you dreamed about another cache in the sewers in White Plains?”

“I told you it was a nightmare,” she said dismissively.

“Are you sure that it was a nightmare?” Charles asked.

“Probably,” she said hesitantly.

“If you allow me,” he said, “we will put an inhibitor on you. It will stop your mutant abilities from working and I could delve into your memory and retrieve the information we need, including whether we should send a team to White Plains to search for signs of activity. There are still six of these werewolves missing.”

An inhibitor that would turn off her scanning ability, thought Angel. She’d heard of things like that on the news when they described how they sent criminal mutants to prison. She didn’t know the Institute had such an item, but she guessed it would be useful for students who had trouble controlling their mutant abilities. And didn’t he say when she first arrived that the Institute trained people for the X-Corporation who captured criminal mutants. The Institute probably had more than one inhibitor.

He took her silence as denial and he gave her a long probing stare adding, “Any information we could have received from the Lobo Tech building was destroyed in the explosion. If there is the possibility of another cache or even another location that these werewolves have been using, we need to find it. It would also give me insight into what occurred in White Plains and whether there is validation in sending a team to scout the sewers. I’d rather not send more people into danger if it can be avoided. I promise you I will only look for the information about Lobo Tech and the sewers.”

Angel was frightened about her scanning ability being shut off. It would be like going blind, but she knew that with six of the creatures still running around White Plains it was for the best. And it was only temporary. “Will I be aware of you probing around in my mind?” she asked, unsure if she wanted a stranger looking around in her memories.

“I can do it so gently you won’t feel anything or I can do it so that you’re right beside me the entire time,” he answered. “Whatever is most comfortable for you.”

Bobby walked up to the table and with a smile jerked a thumb over his shoulder, “The targets are ready.”

“Thank you, Bobby,” Charles told him. Looking at Angel’s near empty plate he asked, “Do you feel up to making some crushed ice?” He would ask her about delving into her mind again afterwards. It might even be easier to get a positive answer out of her if she was tired. He could do it while she was asleep if she was upset about losing her scanning ability for a while.

Angel sighed, it was odd after all these years for her to talk and demonstrate her mutant abilities. She nodded, putting down her fork. Hank stood up and came around the table to guide her wheelchair onto the green. It took some strength to push the chair on the grassy surface and he was the strongest of the three at the table. Those who had been keeping an eye on them in anticipation to see Angel show off her abilities, began to make their way onto the green also, following the quintet. Logan hung up the phone and started back to the dining area only to see that Hank was wheeling Angel onto the field. He joined them and the growing crowd as Hank brought her to a stop twenty five yards from the first ice sculpture.

Bobby had created ice monsters for Angel to destroy. The first was a twenty feet tall man wearing a cape and strange helmet that barely left space open over his eyes and down to his mouth. Angel wasn’t sure who he was, but he looked familiar. The second was a twenty-five feet tall werewolf hunching forward as if about to pounce on the gathered crowd. Third was a thirty feet tall Sentinel robot with its arms extended outwards as if about to fire the protruding weapons from its hands and its chest cavity open displaying its armament.

The crowd of mutants spread out behind Angel’s wheelchair and the tightly clustered group of men around her, some of them sitting down in the grass to watch while others formed little standing clusters. Most of them either talking about the sculptures she was to destroy or about whether she really could break them. Bets were being placed.

“Do you want to move closer?” Hank asked Angel as he brought her into line in front of the ice sculpture of Magneto.

“Don’t bother,” Logan said coming forward and crouching next to her. “I’ve seen what she can do.” He put his hand on her arm, “Darlin’, I want you to concentrate on knocking his head off first, okay?”

“Who is it?” she asked.

“It’s a man named Erik Lehnsherr, but most people knew him by the name Magneto. You probably don't get the joke Bobby made by putting him next to the werewolf and the Sentinel.”

“I think I saw him on the news a few times,” she told him.

“His philosophy was to enslave human kind to mutant kind. He didn’t believe in peaceful resolutions,” Charles explained. “He was a very persuasive man and many mutants followed him.”

“I think I remember him,” Angel said. She looked at Logan, “Decapitation?”

Logan smiled, “You got it, Darlin’. Use all your strength on it. Let’s see what you can do.”

Angel raised her hand towards the statue’s head and concentrated. An invisible wave of force rippled the air around it as it emanated from her hand and smashed into the three feet block of ice sending it flying high into the air. The group gathered on the green were surprised as the ice continued to soar up in the air, getting nearly invisible in the deep blue sky before it began it’s downward descent. There were several whistles and lots of clapping until it suddenly stopped falling and began to return. It was then that a few of them noticed Jean Summers floating forty feet in midair with an arm outstretched towards the distant missile. She returned to earth when the head returned to sit at the decapitated statue’s feet.

Angel had felt Jean lift off the ground and knew when she had telekinetically grabbed the ice to force it to return. She waited until Jean was done bringing it back before she asked Logan, “Now what?”

“Crush his chest. Don’t knock it off, like you did with the head, crush it.”

“I don’t know if I can,” she told him.

“Try. We need to know if you can control your ability.”

“Is this part of the training you mentioned?”

“Yes. Now do it.”

She sighed and then raised both of her hands. The wave of force was larger as it extended from her hands. It reached the beheaded ice sculpture and then not quite gently pounded against it, toppling it over. “I think that was too light,” Angel commented.

“We know you can control the degree of your ability,” Hank said encouragingly as he turned her chair and rolled it to stand in front of the werewolf.

“Same distance,” Logan said, standing next to her chair. “Try again. Same thing, crush it.”

Again, she raised both hands and the wall of force rushed towards the larger than life, crouching white werewolf. This time the sculpture burst into a thousand pieces, a few pieces of the ice actually making the distance and lightly pelting them.

“Yes!” Logan exclaimed raising a fist. “If I’d known ya could do this,” he told her, “we could’ve taken out all the ‘wolves in White Plains.”

She looked at him horrified, “I wouldn’t! I’d never use my ability to kill people!”

Sobering, Logan said, “Don’t say never, Darlin’, it’ll come back ta bite ya in the butt. And I wouldn’t ‘ve cared if ya jus’ knocked ‘em out long enough so we could’a captured some o’ them.”

“That was exponentially better than your last attempt,” Hank congratulated her.

Angel twisted to look behind her and up at him, “I can feel where it’s going. I know exactly what I’m doing with it.” She looked back at Logan, “That’s why I wouldn’t kill anyone. I’d feel them dying.” She looked down in her lap and said barely audible, “Just like the werewolves in the sewers.”

Logan looked down at his feet, clearly made uncomfortable by what she’d said. Without a word, Hank turned her wheelchair away from him and rolled it to stand in front of the last ice sculpture, the Sentinel. Logan remained where he’d been standing until her chair stopped and then he walked over to her and told her with a passionless voice, “Knock it’s hands off so they fall to the ground.” She did as she was told. “Now it’s arms.” She did so. “Take off half its head vertically.” She frowned in concentration and tried to do as he asked, but she ended up decapitating it, the head falling behind it and splitting into three pieces at it’s feet. “Try again with its chest.” She tried and this time she succeeded, a large slice of the chest compressing and then cracking before it half slid half fell to the ground. The other half of the chest, torso below the waist and the legs remained standing. “Good, much better.” Logan’s voice began to gain emotion again. “Now,” he said, “I want you to split your force and do two fast clean cuts to its feet. I want to see them shot off before the rest of it falls down.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” she confessed, “but I’ll try.” She put out both her hands and the air rippled again as the force slammed into the remains of the Sentinel. The feet shot backwards, not breaking off and as the top fell forward, they whipped up and over, flipping it towards the group standing seventy-five feet in front of the thirty-five feet high remains of partial chest and legs. Instinctively, Angel’s hand flew up above her head and there was the sound of thunder as a large wall of force came into existence above and around the group surrounding Angel. The ruins of the Sentinel flipped again and came crashing down on top of the shell Angel had created. It did a reversal as it hit the rippling wall and was reflected back the way it had come. In the process, it broke apart into several large and not so large pieces, all of them safely falling back towards their place of origin and avoiding the people behind Angel’s group who had followed for the spectacle.

“That’s it!” Angel yelled over the thunderous noise that continued to reverberate inside and outside the ‘bubble’ of force she had created. She was looking up at the top of the shell and one of her hands was pointing upwards. “That’s what I did during the explosion!”

“Can you keep it up?!” Logan yelled.

Angel nodded, “I don’t know for how long though!”

Logan gave her a thumb up and then ran towards Jean who had been included in those inside the shell Angel had created. “Can you pick up a big chunk of ice and throw it at the shield?!” he yelled over the thunder.

“Towards us?!” Jean asked. When Logan nodded, she looked through the rippling wall, it was almost like looking through a thin waterfall, clear enough to see beyond it, but with waves and ripples that constantly moved.

While Logan was talking to Jean, Scott walked up to the wall and placed his hand on it. He couldn’t feel a temperature to the wall, it was the same temperature as the air around them. He also noticed it was clear, rippling waves that obscured their vision to the outside. As his hand pressed against the interior of the wall, it moved back and forth, vacillating, against something hard but smooth to the touch.

Jean used her telekinesis to pick up the ice head of Magneto and brought it towards the top of the shield at full speed. Once it hit, it immediately bounced off, flying away and breaking apart far faster than it should have, escaping Jean’s ability to catch it. The remaining parts of the head, which came back down on top of the shield, again bounced off, and broke into even smaller chunks.

Logan approached the wall and did the same thing as Scott. Instead of removing his hand when he was done examining it, he popped his claws and tried to punch through the wall. His claws skittered against it and his arm followed the downward curve of the shield, going the path of least resistance. He tried again twice, but his arms ended up doing the same thing, sliding down to the ground.

Ororo would have tried to fly, but there wasn’t enough air in the confined space to lift herself off the ground without affecting the others within the ‘bubble’. She also found the sound of the thunder disconcerting, familiar but not correct in some way. She couldn’t put a finger on it.

Jean flew up to the top of the shield and tried to push against it to no success. Even trying to use her telekinesis to help push didn’t work because it seemed to go right through the wall. When she tried to push herself out, she ended up compressing her chest so she couldn’t breathe and sliding down the interior of the shield.

Angel had twisted in her chair to watch their antics. She twisted looking back and forth from Logan to Charles waiting for one of them to give her some sort of signal to let her shield down. Charles had also been watching his X-men attempting to break out of Angel’s shield. He walked over to Angel and yelled, “How much longer do you think you can keep your shield up?!”

“A while!” she replied.

He nodded and then signaled her to let it down by running a finger across his neck in a cut off motion.

The thunderous noise cut off abruptly and those outside the shield watched as it seemed to hurtle towards them, expanding in all directions a once, but they barely felt a ripple of pressure as the wave of force moved through and past them, thinning out the further it went.

In the ensuing quiet immediately after Angel’s ‘bubble’ went down, Hank mused, “I believe it’s a reflective shield based on the kinetic energy that she uses for scanning.”

“That’s what it is!” Ororo exclaimed. “The thunder didn’t sound … correct … because there was a pattern to it!”

Charles put a hand on Angel’s shoulder, “We’ll need to have you go through the initial training program so we can get a baseline on these abilities of yours.” He squeezed her shoulder and smiled down at her, “Quite remarkable. The brief amount of time you used your shield during the explosion in White Plains contributed to saving your life and possibly Warren and Logan’s, too.”

“Professor—,” Angel began.

“Call me Charles,” he told her.

Angel nodded, “Charles. I’d like to be aware of where you go in my mind, be next to you. Some of it’s fuzzy and I’d like to make sure what happened. Maybe make sure there really isn’t another cache in the sewers. There were a lot of things in the storage room under Lobo Tech and if I could revisit it, maybe we could give Warren some answers.”

He nodded, “We’ll do that. Would you like to do it now or later? How is your energy level?”

She smiled shyly, “I feel fine and you probably won’t believe me, but I’m still hungry. I’d like some more hot dogs.”

Charles and Hank, who still stood behind her chair, laughed out loud, drawing attention. “Then by all means,” Charles said with a large smile, “we must get you more hot dogs.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Warren arrived while Angel was on her third hot dog. He flew over the grounds and landed near the barbeque pit. He was wearing his red and white Archangel suit, but had a matching backpack of some sort slung between his shoulders. When he landed, his girlfriend, Paige, ran over to him and gave him a hug and kiss before helping divest him of the backpack, which Angel sensed, is where he had stashed his business shoes and clothes.

While Warren began dishing himself up some grub, Logan walked over to him and started talking in low tones. It was obvious to all who watched that Warren’s happiness at being home faded as he listened. His smile faded as he turned a serious gaze on Logan and his wings drooped slightly. Paige took his plate away from him and pushed him in the direction of the dining area while she finished putting food on his plate.

Logan and Warren sat at a table on the edge of the green, as far away from the rest of the partygoers as possible.

“I’ll stay with her,” Hank told Charles and Scott when he noticed their interest in what Warren and Logan were discussing.

“Thanks,” Scott said as he grabbed his beer and left to join the two men.

“Thank you, Hank,” Charles said appreciatively getting up from his chair next to Angel. He turned to Angel, “We may have to postpone our … mental adventure. I hope you don’t mind?”

“No,” Angel shook her head, covering her mouth so he couldn’t see the partially eaten food in her mouth. “What’s going on with Warren is more important.” Charles gave her a sharp nod and a sad smile before he walked over and sat down at Warren’s table.

Although Hank sat at her table, she watched his ears occasionally flick back catching the conversation at Warren’s table. When Angel was finished with her meal a few minutes later, she told him, “I know you’re just sitting here because I am.” She got out of her wheelchair and stood up pointing towards Warren’s table, “I’m finished. Why don’t you join them? I know you want to.”

“Are you sure?” Hank asked, also standing up.

She waved her hand towards the pool area, “There’s plenty of people here, I’ll be all right.”

“Thank you,” he told her and got up and took his chair over to Warren’s group.

Angel picked up her dishes and Charles and Hank’s discarded bottles and tossed the contents into the large trash cans put nearby for just that reason. She approached the nearest Jacuzzi, which had Jean, Annie and Ororo sitting in it. “Mind if I join you?” she asked.

“It’ll probably be good for you,” Annie smiled, “if you don’t over do it.”

“Come on in,” Jean introduced Ororo “Storm” Munroe to Angel as Angel took off her top and shorts to reveal a red floral strapless thong bikini before getting into the bubbling water.