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Issue #13 February 2004	Written By Tom Moses

Henry McCoy sits across from his friend from an earlier time in his life, Zelda Clarke, the soon to be lawyer for Xavier's. Both are silent for a moment, simply taking in the surroundings about them. A Wednesday afternoon, the restaurant is hardly crowded, they sit at the bar sipping at iced tea waiting for their meal to arrive.

"Harry didn't have any problems with your leaving his establishment did he?" Hank speaks up, hoping to start some conversation.

Zelda sits her drink in front of her, "I was surprised. It was like he already knew I was quitting. He was actually understanding about it."

Hank grunts a slight laughter with her observation, connecting two events she didn't bother to place in her own mind. "Thank you for your help this past week."

"Like I said Hank, I couldn't sit around and do nothing," she reminded him of earlier statements, "I'm only glad she is all right; but, how long do you think she'll have to wear the bandages?"

Hank grew quiet at her question, gripping his drink a little tighter. "Hopefully not long," he hesitated to say, "I am worried about the scarring however."

"I didn't even think of that," she said her voice a little lower than it had been. "That's not going to be something easy for her to deal with is it?"

"When people spend the majority of their lives a certain way, they tend to grow accustomed to that. Ororo has always been a beautiful woman, though she is not at all a shallow person that worries what she looks like. Nor does she care what other people think of her. It's the sudden change that I think will get to her."

Zelda tapped the rim of her glass, "I suppose you're right, but the way you talk cosmetic surgery is out of the question then?"

"I wouldn't begin to think she would even consider it."

The sedatives continued to make her sleep; her body needing as much rest as can be given. Her room is far from silent; it is a wonder how the combinations of noise and the wound dressing allow her sleep to go unabated. Ororo Monroe stayed peaceful no matter the disturbance, her appearance shocking to those accustomed to her presence. Bandages adorn three quarters of her face and the majority of her upper torso and arms. Storm looks not unlike the famous mummifications of her homeland.

Each of her friends rotated in and out, taking their turns to watch over her injured form. As Ororo Monroe slept with the help of numerous drugs so designed, a longtime friend takes his turn at watching over her. Charles Xavier has sat with her for hours, refusing to be relieved by another.

Accompanied only by a small book he has recently compiled, of charts and other forms of research, he sits watching his friend slowly wake from her slumber. He placed a hand on her forearm to ensure she knows she is not alone, sighing as he realized the bandages adorning her face and body she has yet to see.

"Charles?" her voice is weak though she spoke with ease.

He smiled at the sound of his name, "Yes Ororo, I was hoping to be here when you woke."

"How long have I been here?"

"Nearly a week, we've been worried about you for quite a while," he tolds her, "How do you feel?"

The un-bandaged half of her face allowed a weak smile to show, "I'm alive, and that is always a good thing."

"Yes it is Storm; I'm very relieved to know this," he alluded to something else in his voice, "I apologize if this is too soon for you to think about, but there is something I've been putting off, something I need to discuss with you."

"Give me a few moments Charles. Please."

"Shouldn't you be wearing an image inducer?" Bobby said to his friend sitting behind him, as he brings his vehicle to a stop.

The two mutants step from the imported vehicle, Warren Worthington taking no effort to hide his blue skin and feathered wings. "That won't be necessary Bobby, just make sure you follow my lead with what we talked about."

They walked into the building without so much as a hassle from the security guard nor a second glance from anyone around. Proceeding toward a mass of elevators, Bobby noticed not a single person gives his friend the slightest attention about his appearance. Everyone around is surprisingly friendly, walking near him they nod some shake his hand and address him with his surname. Some mutants may have to live in fear of what they looked like, though for Warren Worthington such was not the case when he entered one of the many buildings he owned.

Warren took the time to return each of his employee's attentions as he and Bobby make their way to the elevators. Once inside, "Each and every one of the employees here is aware of who I am. In the past I have made my best efforts to make this a place where merit is based on character and thus far we've been successful. No one here is resentful of me being a mutant, or born into this Enterprise, at least not on the surface," Warren explained to the only other occupant of the elevator car.

The ride to the higher levels of the building is smooth and without another word shared by either man. They stepped outside to find much of the same reaction to Warren's presence by executive and secretary alike. Fishing a key from a crowded chain, Warren unlocks a door motioning for Bobby to follow him inside.

"Nice place," Bobby observed as his friend closed the double doors. "You sure you're ready to be doing this?"

"Elisabeth and I put the beginnings into coming back into the company a while back Bobby, I think it would be a little of a dishonor to her if I bailed out now," Warren mentions as he steps behind a table to pick up the phone. "Besides, this is something that I've needed to do for a long time. I can't sit on the sidelines any longer."

The Chairman of Worthington Enterprises motioned Bobby to sit at the table he stood near. "Richard, its Warren. I need you to gather the board and bring them to my office at the soonest convenience."

The receiver clasped to the base attached to the desk as Warren takes a seat behind his desk preparing his computer. "Bobby, this is serious. I need you to act according to those you see around here, no goofing around."

"I can't do this anymore Ororo."

She turned her head as much as she is able, just putting his face into view. She noticed in him a look of pain, not of physical but he tried to say something not easy for him to bring to light. "What are you talking about Charles?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary Ororo, the X-Men are always on the corner of my mind at some point in the day; however it is just lately that I have come to grips with the doubts that I belong here any longer. With the many things we try and accomplish there always sees to be ten more points that stand up to combat us," he said, his voice lowered, "I've become so tired of fighting it lately. I just can't do it anymore."

Despite the IV's that pierced her wrist and arm, the X-Woman known as Storm raised her hand to place onto Charles', "This has always been the struggle, you cannot give up because of it."

"I'm not giving up Ororo," he raised his head to tell her face-to-face, "I'm moving on. There are so many things I've neglected by putting the X-Men first for so many years. It's not something I've come to recently; your injuries notwithstanding I'd much like to leave trust of the team with you."

She turned her head away from him, slowly as though the drugs wear off their effect her pain begins to resurface. "Before we left for Japan, I wasn't sure I was going to stay with this group much longer," she confessed, "I'm still not sure that I want to stay either."

The heat steamed its very presence into the minds of the two who walk among the trees that keep it trapped in the air. Kurt Wagner accompanied Alex Summers in his task to storm an unfamiliar compound hidden in the haze of Amazonian trees. The heat unbearable to either of them, Kurt - at least - questioned their choice of assignments as he walked above the ground hidden by the foliage.

"We've been at this for hours Alex, are you sure we're headed the right way?"

Alex held a finger to his lips and pointed forward at an armed guard, seemingly roaming a perimeter post. No words are needed to direct the action, in a puff of smoke and slight implosion of sound Kurt is gone. Instantly he vanished from sight and he reappeared behind the guard. Kurt thrusts a fist out of the second burst of smoke, combined with the speed at which he moves the guard is thrown into unconsciousness without so much as a sore knuckle from Kurt. A swift check of every direction the demon-like man signaled for Alex to move ahead.

His features hidden behind the dark colors of his uniform, Alex sprinted to Kurt's position, unaware of the other men watching him move. "Intruders!" Alex heard, more words spoken in Spanish follow as gunshots impact near his feet.

Shining yellow eyes search for the origin of the weapon sounds as Kurt's teammate avoid every shot fired to reach him. "You just had to run didn't you?"

"Shut up elf."

Covered behind a tree the bullets continue to speed by them. "I'm surprised, even death couldn't stop you from remembering that nickname."

"You'd be surprised to find out what really happened when people say I was dead," Alex returned the comment. "For now though how about we concentrate on not getting shot."

Kurt pointed into the landscape, "One step ahead of you, one is due north of us fifty yards."

If the heat of the air is something to complain about beforehand, the aftermath of Alex's plasma handling ability only makes it worse. Havok's fist glows a bright yellow as he searched for the target Nightcrawler mentioned and sent a ring of superheated energy into the scenery bringing a halt to some of the gunshots.

Nightcrawler soon disappeared after the dispatching of the gunman and silenced another before returning to their position with only minutes between his travels. "You might have to tell me about what went on while you were missing then, it could be somewhat interesting."

Carefully they walk out into an opening, searching as much as they possibly can before bringing themselves vulnerable to anyone hiding in the brush. "I'll have to think about that, and you'll have to tell me about what went on while you were gone."

They shook on their deal, but their relaxing moment doesn't last. Seemingly unfolding from several trees all around them, gun turrets surround the two X-Men.

"Ladies, Gentlemen," Warren addressed the group seated at the table in his office. "As you are commonly aware, most of my dealings with this company have been minor ones. Allowing the majority of the everyday decisions left to the bright and skilled executives that I employ. As I am sure you were all unaware, I intend to take a much higher responsibility in the way this company is run."

The room is silent; the group of well-dressed executives have their attention locked on the blue-skinned mutant in front of them, not paying much attention to the newcomer sitting in Worthington's chair as its owner paces the room and speaks. "This company has been recognized by being a forerunner of character and a reputation that can be trusted and that is what I hope to continue by taking a more active role within leadership," he paused for a small breath as he fixed his attention onto his group of executives. "You have all honored my wishes to hire and fire people based on ability and character not on discriminatory means as our competitors have been reputed to do. Rest assured that many things will not change in my decision, and no one is about to lose their job. In recent times of a questionable economy and an even higher guessing rate of a stock market, our stock has yet to falter as much as other companies have. That shows me the kind of people that I have working here; the things you do here have not gone unnoticed and will be aptly rewarded. For the sake of saving time and energy here, I wanted to gather you all here to tell you in person that I am re-taking my position as board chairman and CEO of Worthington Enterprises in the active sense."

There is no applause for the ending of Warren's speech, instead a number of the persons sitting around the table raised their hands to address their Chairman. "Mr. Worthington, I think I speak for everyone here when I say it's about time you've taken a more serious role in the company," Richard Hemeyer speaks up. "It's been a constant pain for us in the public scene of having a high society mutant in the rankings of this company though never present."

"I am aware of the Wall Street opinions of the way I've done things in the past, my being here may have something to do with that and I am prepared to fight such allegations if any were to surface," Warren said, watching the majority of the hands drop around the table. "Though I'm here for more political reasons, do not change the way business is done on the everyday front. There are several things that I intend to accomplish and I have brought in an advisor in these matters in order not to take away from the daily matters."

All attention snapped to the other man brought in by Warren. Loving the shift of attention, Bobby painted his best face to ensure the group cannot read any emotion on his face. "May I introduce Robert Drake," Warren said, taking a position behind his friend before he continues. "He is the first of what may be some new faces in what I hope to accomplish. He is a personal friend of mine, and has been so for years. Before any questions arise of his job and how he may have secured it, Robert has been brought in to advise me on the correct course of action for our future endeavors and has nothing else to do with the company at large."

"I'm sure we can benefit from your new pet project mister Worthington," a female voice surfaces. "As far as these 'future endeavors' go, would you mind explaining what you mean by that?"

Walking out from behind Bobby and toward the center of the room, Warren opens a folder left out on a table near the group. "There are many things that I will let you all know about when the time comes that I am prepared to tell you. Now is not a time that I intend to do so, but what I can tell you are: we, as a company, will be taking an official stance on several things that could put us in danger if the gambit fails. Be assured that I will not head this off recklessly, and I will take all opinions into consideration before acting on whatever we decide."

"It sounds like you've made your decision Warren," Richard made his presence known again. "Not that we would dream of swaying your actions, but I hope the board will have an active role in whatever lobbying you decide to take part in."

"Don't worry Richard," Warren attempted to bend his executives concern, "You will all be part of the actions we take if you so choose when I come to you."

"Any ideas?" Alex asked as he stands back to back with Kurt, both pinned by the turrets that surround them.

"You're the leader here, you tell me."

His hands began to glow as the machines hummed to life, "Off the top of your head," Alex searched his mind for an answer, "how high would I need to be to fire at these things before they locked on?"

"My guess is pretty high," Kurt mused.

"Why don't you just take a good guess and go for that?" the X-Man leader told his newest teammate. "Ready whenever you are."

Five machines in all. Placed in position unable to endanger any other turret, they all place their aim toward the two mutant intruders. Before they are given opportunity to fire however, both men vanish in a puff of dark smoke sending their individual radars scanning for something to lock their gazes upon. Reappearing only twenty feet above where they formerly stood, Alex shook off the haze teleportation had always given him and begins to launch a relentless amount of plasma-rings at each of the standing weapons.

The descent is almost slow motion as Havok took focus on the weapons before they are able to discern their positions. His hands heat as they always do when he activates his abilities, shining brighter with each ring of plasma that forms of his hand. All but one are destroyed by the time Havok impacts the ground, and despite the sudden pain he received from a hard landing he keeps up his movement. Havok never gives the remaining weapon a single chance to lock its targeting devices upon him, for all the ordinance that it aptly employs every shot fails to bring the mutant down. The final weapon is destroyed with ease, reduced to cinder much like its brothers at arms.

Kurt appeared in another explosion of smoke behind Alex, "Good choice." He said, with a surprised approval in his voice, "You should really stop second guessing yourself, Alex."

"That's the thing Kurt. I'm not second-guessing anything. The things I had the team do were right. I only feel guilty because Storm is lying in the infirmary because I made the right choice and that is not a thought I'm accustomed to."

Placing a hand on the shoulder of the teammate, Kurt walked from behind Alex. "The things we do in this business are not the safest. You do what you need to and no one will wonder about your decisions if you continue as you do."

Alex shook the hand of his friend for his advice, looking to the damage all around him, he sighed heavily. "Return to neutral conditions," he called out to the environment, soon after the jungle changed to the look of a steel gymnasium. "I'll see you around Kurt."

"Likewise," Kurt returned, watching Alex leave the confines of the Danger room, closing the door behind him.

"I don't mean to imply that the things we've done have been a mistake," Xavier said. "There are some things that I must attend to that require more of my attention than the actions of the X-Men."

Storm breathed deep for a few seconds. "Charles, I understand that other areas need to be looked after in order for your dream to run its course. But I think you are making the wrong decision to replace Alex over one mistake."

"You misunderstand me, Ororo." Xavier pointed out softly, "I don't want you to take over the leadership role. I want you to take over the role I used to play: the strategy, the communications, investigation, and the tracking of our foes. I know you wish not to enter the physical arena any longer and I wouldn't dream of asking you to do that."

Still weak from the fighting and the drugs, the woman known to her friends and enemies alike as Storm tried to look Charles Xavier in his eyes as his statements finish. "Charles. Do whatever you need to, whatever you need me to look after while you are away. Consider it done."

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