(WereCat's driving god modded with permission.)

WereCat was a good person with whom to take road trips. She was a bit of an aggressive driver, but that got them there all the faster. Also, she was able to go for hours without needing to switch drivers. It was very convenient for Katrina, who had some last minute preparations to finish before they started the next stage of their mission in China.

They were going to be bodyguards for the Chinese president, Zhang Xiao. They would be in a perfect position to keep an eye on the dictator and if any of the people he had displeased in his own country or abroad came to assassinate the man, his life would be the hands of the two body guards.

Her preparations included both the trip to New York City, upon which they were currently embarking, and the necklaces that were strewn across her lap, upon which she was currently concentrating. The necklaces were cheap, pawn shop and garage sale quality, but they would be one of the tools that would help convince Zhang that he had hired the correct people to guard his life. Each of the four charms carried one of her blonde hairs curled up on the inside. Each of them was a permanent sticking illusion, not to disguise a person as someone else, but to render them completely invisible to as many senses as Katrina possessed. As an added protection, anyone who approached within a distance of fifteen feet from a person wearing one of the necklaces would find two of their other senses affected as well; equilibrioception and interoception. In simpler terms, an intruder into the affected area would find him or herself losing their balance and feeling rather nauseous, unless they, too, were wearing one of the necklaces. There were four of them; one for Zhang, and three others for either decoys or hidden guards.

The young illusionist had been working on them for weeks already, stealing quiet moments in caves and camps as she trekked across China, punctuating the boredom of long plane rides, spending her sleepless nights being productive, and now concentrating on the charms as WereCat drove them northwards to the city Katrina now thought of as her home. Katrina's eyes faced forward out the front windshield, but she wasn't watching the road. In her mind, she imagined the nothingness of invisibility so she could make the Chinese president disappear.

(I play both Sebastian and Katrina which is why both of their actions are included together in the same post.)

Several hours later, in New York City:

Katrina had a concerned look on her face as she sat down across from the horned headmaster of Pax Academy. She was not looking forward to this experiment, but it had to be done. If she was going to rely on a technique as a backup in case something went terribly wrong with the body guard mission, she had to practice it at least once to make sure it worked. Only headcases tried new techniques for the first time in battles that could cost them their lives. Hopefully, Katrina would be avoiding those situations entirely, but it never hurt to be prepared. Rather, it would hurt Sebastian for her to be prepared. If the experiment worked correctly it would hurt him rather a lot. She was not looking forward to it.

“So, how was Zephyr” she asked conversationally.

“I'm afraid that I have to protect my patients' confidentiality,” came the curt answer from the unicorn man. He was as anxious to get this over with as Katrina was to put it off. “I am ready whenever you are.”

Katrina would never be ready. Causing others pain was not how she wanted to use her powers. Even if Sebastian was a healer, even if he had volunteered to be her guinea pig, even if she was certain he wouldn't suffer permanent damage, even if it was necessary to ensure her own safety and Sara's, she didn't want to go through with it.

“I'm terribly sorry about this,” she prefaced. Then, ready or not, she closed her eyes and cast her memories back to her most painful experience. It had been during her first summer at the mansion. Someone had broken into the mansion and it had ended with a pain manipulator losing control of his powers. Katrina could still remember the moment she had awoken with every nerve screaming as if she was on fire. She had heard the agonized screams coming from the rooms of the other children, but the thirteen year old Katrina had been so paralyzed by the pain that not even her vocal chords had worked.

Pain seemed to be the most primal of the senses. It was less complex than touch or hearing and less subtle than smell or taste. The illusion of pain was surprisingly easy to create.

Sebastian had been electrocuted before. He had been burned. Nearly every bone in his body had been broken at some point or another. He'd lived for years with nearly crippling arthritis. He'd fallen down a ravine. He'd had his throat torn out by a hungry mountain lion. He'd been bitten by a vampire and had his neck broken. He had been poisoned. He had been tortured. His tolerance for pain had been tested. His tail had been amputated. He'd been punched, kicked, slashed, bitten, stomped, jabbed, scratched, gouged, cut, smashed, stabbed, sliced, trampled, and shot.

Maybe, just maybe, if he added up all the injuries he had ever experienced in his entire lifetime they would be equal to the amount of pain that was ripping through his body right now.

There was not a single part of his body that was not affected. There was the slow searing pain of his skin being peeled deliberately from his flesh. There was a sharp shooting pain of someone chiseling away at each tooth. His eyeballs burned as they cried tears of acid. Small animals were clawing and biting their way through his intestines. Someone clenched his heart in their hand and squeezed mercilessly. His bones throbbed as they were slowly hammered them into dust. Splitting pain roared through his scull as someone sawed at his horn with a dull blade. His cartilage ached as every joint was bent the wrong way to the point of snapping. Poisonous gases seared the insides of his lungs. His muscles were pulled and stretched to their limits and beyond until they felt like they would tear themselves apart. His throat was sanded raw and acid was poured down his esophagus. His tongue was pierced with thousands of needles. His eyelids were scorched with red hot branding irons.

His muscles jerked automatically, trying to escape the pain that was assaulting him from inside and out, but the pain was inescapable. He did not even realize when he fell out of his chair. Meaningless colors flashed before his eyes. His mouth dropped open as he tried to suck in air, but he couldn't even scream. His mind couldn't comprehend all of the signals that attacked it all at once. He couldn't focus on any single thought and he couldn't escape even in his thoughts to another world and time outside of the pain, even to a world of nothingness.

Endless fire surrounded him and consumed him and he could not heal. The icy sparks of healing energy that burned of their own accord, but quenched the fire did nothing to combat this. There was nothing to fix, because nothing was wrong with him. Every kind of pain sharp and dull marched onward, but there were no injuries to heal, no poison to purify, and no disease to cure. There was only endless pain. Surely even death was preferable to this. Even the damnedest hell in the strictest of human religions could hardly be worse than this unbearable agony.

Then, as suddenly as it had started it was over. His entire body felt blessedly and gloriously numb. He could breath again. His heart could beat again. His eyes blinked tears out of his eyes and he realized the whole world was sideways. His muscles responded automatically to his desire to sit up. The world was glowing with possibilities and life and the beautiful face of a young blonde illusionist met his gaze with a worried expression on her face.

Would his voice work again? It would, albeit softly, “Hello.”

Katrina could feel the pain half as intensely as Sebastian could. She could still feel the reality of the world, but the illusion of pain had caught her up as well, overlapping with what her nerves were really sensing so that she could hardly even tell what was real anymore. It was very difficult to concentrate, even on ending the illusion. Every wave of the pain that coursed through her made the painful memory stronger and more real. She could see the headmaster's face, frozen in a horrifying expression. She watched him jerkily fall from the chair. She panicked for one second, afraid that she couldn't ever end it and the both of them would be trapped forever in the endless loop of pain, replaying over and over that long ago summer's eve memory.

It isn't real. You are controlling this. You can stop it.

Finally she took a deep breath, letting the very real air fill her lungs with a very real relief and the illusion ended. It had lasted all of five seconds. Hurriedly she bent at the unicorn man's side.

“Sebastian! Are you okay?”

He blinked up at her, then sat up shakily with a “hello”.

“Are you alright? I am so sorry. We never should have tried this. It was a stupid idea and I never should have asked,” tears streamed down her cheeks and the pitch of her voice was rising with each word. The words tumbled out faster and faster until Sebastian reached up and put a finger against her lips. He put his arms around her while they both were still kneeling, pulled her close, and hugged her tight.

“I'm fine child,” he whispered as he stroked her hair. “I will survive and so will you.”

Katrina was shaking in his arms and her breaths came in uneven gasps as she sobbed silently in his arms. Sebastian sank back from a kneeling position to a seated one and Katrina collapsed likewise downward, holding onto him as if for dear life as she cried for all she had put him through, for her refugees that had suffered so much, and for all the violence in the world that made pain a necessary part of living and continuing to live. Sebastian rubbed her back and stroked her hair, like he had done dozens of times for his own children when they were feeling hopeless or lost, angry or confused, stressed or grieved. He could not heal this kind of pain, but he had found that it ran its course quicker with someone there to hold and comfort, no matter how old the child was.

Finally, the shaking stopped and Katrina felt able to speak again, “Is this all even worth it?” All meant everything. Not just the experiment, but everything; from teaching students about peaceful ways, to meddling in the affairs of people all around the world. Were they even making a difference? Was anything they did actually contributing to a more peaceful world?

“Of course,” came the unicorn's sage answer. The effort to create peace was worth the work, even if it did nothing in the long run. Even the effort brought hope, and hope was necessary not for merely surviving in a violent world, but for actually living in it.

After several minutes, Katrina spoke again, “I'm not ever going to do that to another person again.” She couldn't survive torturing someone like that again. Not friends, not even an enemy.

“I hope you never have to, but you now know that you could in an emergency.” Katrina was already shaking the head that was still buried in his chest at the response, but Sebastian continued, “There may come a time when it is necessary. When torture is the lesser of two evils. It could someday save someone's life or possibly even many lives. Don't say never just yet. Never is a long, long time.”

“Hm,” with only one m. Katrina still didn't agree, but she wasn't going to argue the point further.

---------------------------------------------------------

Time passed. The sun began to set and the light in the headmaster's office began to fade. Time had meaning again. Finally, Sebastian removed his arms from the embrace that held Katrina childlike against his chest, signaling that it was time for both of them to move on.

“I'm afraid that I must be going. I have a plane to catch,” came the softly apologetic voice of the headmaster.

Katrina pushed herself up off the floor once again, standing and stretching. She was exhausted mentally and physically, but emotionally she felt much better.

“Thank you Sebastian, I hope you have a good flight and stay safe until you come home again.”

“I hardly think I'll have a good flight,” Sebastian moaned jokingly. His airsickness had become practically legendary at the school ever since his first experience at the beginning of the school year. Word spreads amazingly fast about embarrassing moments like that.

Katrina smiled in the rapidly approaching darkness, “If flying is so terrible, you could always stay and I could practice on you some more.” She had to be feeling better if she was even willing to joke about it a little.

“No, no. That's perfectly alright,” Sebastian held up and shook both hands, warding her off. “Duty calls, and as much fun as it is to help you hone your abilities, I really must be off.”

“Goodbye Sebastian, and good luck.”

“Good luck to you too, Katrina.”

The drive back was easier than the drive there. Perhaps it was the fact that she had company. Even though Katrina was so quiet, she was still a warm body in the seat next to Sara. For some reason company, even quiet company, makes long drives easier. Silence was preferred anyways. Sara still had a laundry list of things she felt she needed to accomplish before her flight. She’d purposefully put these things off in hopes that she wouldn’t have to go anywhere. In hopes that she could just get Katrina back and the list wouldn’t have to be used.

Sara had to call the substitutes who would be teaching her classes in her absence. Sara had to make sure Ayesac would water Bob, a ten year old spider plant, in her absence. She had to make sure she had proper funds, her passport, should other ways of flight be impossible to achieve, her cloths. She hadn’t even packed for anything beyond the trip to pick Katrina up. If that just showed how much she really was holding onto the hope that things would be a quick fix. Experience told her no, but that child side felt like it was finally rubbing off on Sara, from her younger optimistic students.

The most important thing on Sara’s list, also had to do with one of her oldest friends. She needed a good meal and a lesson. Naturally Sara went to the man that had been her go to boy since he was 16.

(For those of you that follow my threads, there is a mutation growth in Sara’s profile, being introduced here in FP.)

“Sara, you’re cheating again.”

“Technically I’m cheating either way.” Sara replied to Johnny, in a voice that was pushed threw a jaw, that was held tensor than she intended, Johnny sat across from her at the small card table in the back of his family’s restaurant. Dragon Inn was now owned by his older brother. Sara’s eyes, that had been completely amber, regained their pupils and she sighed. Looking down at the chess board, between them.

This particular chess game, and board was old. Most of the pieces in play were no longer perfectly white, or perfectly black, but rather, different greys, ivory, yellow, and when some of the original pieces had gone missing, Johnny had replaced the missing soldiers with pieces from other chess games. Sara was particularly fond of the reddish dark knight, that had joined her dark army about 6 years ago. Cherishing every chip the piece gained in it’s wood finish that came from every game experience.

Sara started to close off her sense of sight again. “Just give me a minute.” And as fast as her eyes had dilated, the pupils contracted into narrow slits again. Disappearing so that all that one could see was the color of liquid gold amber that was Sara’s Iris.

Closing off one sense allowed her to open a 6th sense. Normally seeing the pieces wouldn’t be cheating, except Johnny had insisted on practicing Sara’s 6th sense this way. She couldn’t see the pieces while playing. It was hard to keep up, and think strategically at the same time, however when she did this, she could sense the paths that the individual chess pieces had made. She had to focus on multiple pieces and their paths at once. And that was what told her what each piece was. If the paths confused her, she needed to merely touch a piece, and the piece’s history opened up in her mind. She could tell where the piece stood at the beginning of the game, how the piece had been moved in the past, how it had been defeated, or victorious, in it’s gaming history, and that is the other side of the cheating coin. Because if Sara wasn’t cheating by opening up her sense of sight, then she was cheating by closing it, because by touching a chess piece, from this chess set, told her how Johnny was likely to move. It was like instantly reading a text book on how to defend against a man, that was such an accomplished chess player, when he was so young. Seeing exactly how to defeat Johnny was a little different.

Sara moved her, nearly black, knight forward then to the left to put Johnny’s king in check. She had the pesky ruler blocked in between Johnny’s own pieces, her Bishop, and her queen.

Johnny Smiled, across the table from her. 26 years old now. The very same boy that Sara had once stolen food from, while slipping him a twenty dollar bill was now grow. Where he once helped run his families Chinese restaurant, while studying his history notes, he had now became a sort of jack of all trades. With Sara’s help, he could afford college, and graduated at the top of his class with a degree in law, making him a Lawyer, witch amazed Sara, seeing as she hadn’t exactly been the best influence in Johnny’s life. What with the people that started to come to the restaurant looking for Sara. This brought the boy in contact with several organizations, and individuals of varying dangers. As a result of this, Johnny had become the go to guy. His hand had been forced to gain contacts in as many places as he could. He not only kept the contacts Sara had make, but the contacts of contacts he could connect with her, with his friends, and with his family. When something was needed he simply passed around favors. Dipping into money that was in his own pocket, only when it was needed, and yet, somehow he still managed to stay in the back ground. He was all grown up, even if his ears still stuck out.

“That’s a pawn. Not a Rook.” The man teased Sara as he slid the weakest piece on the board diagonally to take out the knight. The little bugger. He’d turned Sara’s knowledge of his habit of keeping the castle piece next to the king, against her. Though Sara tapped his victorious pawn just to make sure. Yup. The great black knight was defeated by a commoner. A pawn that happened to have two chips on either side of the round top. “Now pay attention.”

“I’m trying to.” Sara sighed. She felt the need to open her sight back up but refused to. Just to be sure, her head bowed and she closed her eyes. These lessons were always so frustrating. The China man almost always won. When Sara had managed to out fox the boy, on the chess board, it was a major upset.

“Sara you’re doing fine. You don’t have to know what piece is witch, just know the paths and the paturns.”

“But there’s so many.” That and Johnny had taken out her favorite pece to use. The knight. It was the only piece of the board that never went straight when it moved. Many a times, Sara had ambushed the other army through the knight. Short range, predictable, yet sneaky.

“You used to like playing games where you couldn’t see everything. Remember the card games. Uno? Black Jack?”

“This is different.”

“Look at one at a time. Work easier. Not harder and stop telling yourself you know the pieces. Let them come.” Johnny had known Sara for a long time. He’d sat back and witnessed her mental strengths and her mental weaknesses.

Sara sighed.

This was easier for Johnny to say than Sara to do. Still the boy had a point. When you study to become an artist, you don’t tell yourself you know what the human body looks like, and start drawing. You look at the pieces of anatomy, one at a time, and let them tell you how they should be seen.

With out moving her head, Sara selected her castle. She sacrificed the castles position, guarding her queen. “Check.”

Jean Anderson was a practical woman. She was tall and thin and every one of her dark gray hairs lay perfectly on her head. She wore practical clothes and practical shoes, nothing superfluous. She didn't believe in gossip, only in news. If it wasn't backed up by facts, she wanted nothing to do with it.

“Jeeeean, ohmigosh!”

That was the danger of grocery shopping in the middle of the afternoon. It was also when all the other retired church choir ladies descended upon the little family owned corner grocery store. It was only inevitable that eventually she would run into someone like Ethel McIntosch, the city's biggest gossip and possibly the world's biggest bore. She was very friendly, but the proper and practical Mrs. Anderson had no use for her flowery scarves nor for her incessantly waggling tongue. It was all so unnecessary. At least at choir the woman's mouth was busy forming “do re mi”s and praising the Lord. Jean gave the woman a tight lipped smile. It could not have been considered insincere, though, because it looked just like her normal smile.

Mrs. McIntosch interpreted the smile as a greeting as well as permission to park her cart right next to her fellow alto's effectively pinning it to the Old Dutch display. She then launched right into her juiciest piece of news, or gossip, depending on the perspective, “Can you believe it? My husband just called. He was watching the news. Apparently China and Russia are officially at war now. There was some sort of border skirmish, I guess. Can you believe it?”

Mrs. Anderson wouldn't believe it, not until she saw the news herself and read the next morning's paper.

The young blonde woman who had been politely ignoring the pair of dropped a bag of tortilla chips with a soft crunch. Mrs. Anderson glared over at her disapprovingly, just in case she had been eavesdropping. She did not approve of eavesdroppers any more than she approved of gossipers; they were just one more link in the gossiping chain, ready to rush off and tell all their friends, just like the blonde woman was doing. She didn't even pick up that bag of chips she had dropped before rushing off down aisle six. Mrs. Anderson snorted, half ill wishing and half wishing that she too was able to scurry away from the potato chip display and the matronly woman who had trapped her there.

“So anyways, what do you think?” finished Mrs. McIntosch, peering up at the taller woman with a curious look.

“Hmph,” pretty much summed it up.

The young blonde woman managed to keep herself to a speed walk until she reached the curb outside the front door of the grocery store before she switched to running. She had walked from the apartment she normally shared with Slate, so she had worn sensible shoes. As she sprinted back toward the closest available television, the same thoughts repeated themselves over an over in her head, like a toy train on a circular track.

It's impossible! She must have been wrong. The plan could not have failed. Why didn't he inform me right away? What happened? Are they okay?

The news anchor on channel twelve verified the story of the gossipy old woman from the grocery store. The Asian countries were at war. On and on, he repeated the information for those people who were just tuning in. Katrina kept listening, kept watching the small tidbits of footage from across the world over and over, just in case new information came in.

Again and again it was the same. China had irrevocable proof that Russian troops had crossed into their land, trying to kidnap and coerce Chinese mutants into crossing the borders. Russia had proof that China wouldn't submit to diplomacy. Russian soldiers had crossed into China, and those Russian soldiers would not be leaving again, except on the airwaves of hundreds of television stations to millions of televisions around the world, like the one in a small apartment in New York City. There was little to no information on what happened to the Chinese refugees that had been involved, no matter how many times the information cycled through.

Finally, Katrina turned it off, feeling numb. She still couldn't accept that it was real. It couldn't be true. Slate would have told her. He was capable of communicating this far, at least with her. Unless... Her mind refused to admit to the possibility that he couldn't communicate. He must have had a reason. She had to get back to him. Screw the mission with Zhang Xiao. It wasn't as important as this. It wasn't as important as making sure her seniors were safe. It wasn't as important as making sure Slate was safe. If she had to comb through every cave and turn over every rock in the Himalayas, she would do it. She just needed to get there so she could see for herself that it was all an elaborate set up. It was all a lie, a set up by the Chinese government. She had to see for herself that it wasn't true.

The fastest way to get there was on the Blackbird. It didn't require waiting in line for security or customs. It was faster than a normal airline. It could stealth. It was perfect.

On her way out the door, she remembered that Sarah would probably want to know where she was going. It wouldn't do to simply vanish and not tell anyone. Perhaps the lioness woman would even be willing to help her look for the students and Slate. She was their teacher as well.

Quickly she flipped open her phone and sent a text message to the lioness' cell phone. “Seen the news? Meet me at mansion, ASAP.” Another message she sent to her ice manipulating friend at the mansion, so he would know to expect them. “I need your help. I'll be stopping by shortly.” All that was left was to catch a quick cab ride to her old school, and she'd be ready to go.

Edwards was seated next to Sara in her brown station wagon. Where her slender frame sat elegantly in the drivers seat, Edwards wide muscular arms were crossed over a brawd chest that slumped in the passenger side. They were currently parked and had been parked in the same spot for over two hours.

Why was Sara teamed up with what had to be the most boring muscular man in the planet this after noon? Well They were both bond enforcement agents and they were working a case. Some idiot had skipped his day in court and now it was Sara, and Edwards job to drag them in. The problem was finding them.

The bond enforcement job wasn’t really all that bad. It allowed Sara to make her own schedule so she could still teach at PAX, and during long stakeouts, she graded papers. Speaking of witch there was a stack on the dash, Sara had forgotten about 30 minutes ago, when she’d put her cell phone on top of them as a paper weight.

Edwards shifted in his seat. His arms went from being crossed in front of his chest to resting behind his head. “Your cell phone is about to ring.” And without missing a beat it did.

Sara raised an illusionary eye brow in Edward’s direction before reaching forward and scooping the phone up. “And you tell me you’re not psychic.”

“I’m not.”

“Then how’d you know?”

Edwards shrugged. “The little red light for the power button flickered. I got my blood tested years ago to see if I was a mutant. I’m not. My powers are of observation.” Sara flipped open the phone and went straight to the text message where, even through her illusion of being human, her jaw tightened. Edwards immediately picked up on Sara’s facial cues. “What’s wrong?”

“An emergency has come up.” Sara reached forward and started playing with the radio of the old station wagon.

“Need help?”

“No. I’ll drop you off where ever you want but I have to go take care of something.” Sara found a news station and her heart froze as she listened to the report. The radio personality started repeating himself and she through her car into gear.

A small twist of the hips and Sammy was down on the ground again, “Come on, you said you wanted to learn how to be a X-man right?” the father asked the son as he caught the incoming fist and swept his legs again throwing him on the ground for the tenth time in the last ten minutes. “The path you want to walk is full of sweat and hard work, you quit you’ll never be able to become a X-man.” It was harsh to throw his son down as many times as he did but it was the only way he would learn. After all Sammy was Sam’s son and this was how Sam learned.

Sammy breathed heavy as he was thrown upon the floor again, despite how tired he was he was having fun ‘playing’ as Sammy called it with his dad. Not only was his dad making him into a hero but he was spending time with him which was something Sammy loved doing. He looked over to Chelsea who was rolling around in the grass soaking in the sun light, even if it was raining the playful old pup would have continued to do so anyways.

As Sammy got up again to charge for his dad’s legs, his father holding up his hand stopped Sammy short. “What is it dad?” Sammy asked as he heard a familiar ringing that his dad called ‘Ode To Joy’ by some old guy. The ring was only for missions and emergencies, it had become a habit for Sammy to frown whenever he heard that ringing despite how pretty it was when his dad played it for him on his violin.

His hand lowering as he ran over to his phone that was just recently playing ‘Ode To Joy’ which he knew meant a mission of some kind but to his surprise he picked it up and read it, “From Katrina?” Sam asked as he looked at her message once more, “I need your help. I'll be stopping by shortly.” After repeating that he looked to his son and said, “Sammy, think that's enough for today…” Sam said as he picked up a bottle of water and tossed one to his son who having very little hand eye coordination caught the bottle with his face. “Walk it off…” Sam said as his son picked up the bottle rubbed his head and took a drink.

“An old friend is stopping by and she needs my help…” Sam paused as he walked over to where his son and Chelsea were sitting which was right by the main gates. Both were laying down soaking up the sun shirtless as Sam started to question his son about school as they waited for Katrina someone who he hasn’t seen in a few years to show up.

The thought that things had gone wrong in China scared the crap out of Sara. She had dropped Edwards off at his apartment and had miraculously avoided answering his questions about what Sara’s emergency had been. How could she explain that she agreed to work at a facility that put it’s students in danger that they were bold enough to think they thought of every possibility. They thought they had planned for anything that could have gone wrong.

On her way to the mansion, she repeatedly stopped herself from speeding through traffic. Her old brown station wagon repeatedly slowed down from the tail gating position. Other drivers glared at her, and Sara really didn’t care. She wanted to know if Katrina had heard anything and it didn’t occur to Sara that she’d be beating Katrina to the mansion and have to wait anyways.

Sara angled her brown station wagon around the gate. She took a moment to remove the locket that held her illusion, so the human for looked as though it melted away to reveal the golden blond fur. In 10 years, Sara had hardly aged. Only the fact that she now needed reading glasses hinted at the fact that time had gone by.

The locket was placed delicately inside a case, in her purse, and Sara stepped out of the car. “Hey. Has Katrina arrived yet?” She was trying to be cheerful, but it was obvious she was having trouble holding onto her emotions.

The entire way to the mansion, Katrina spent trying desperately to concentrate. If she could just get her brain to stop whirring incessantly, she could perhaps do something to contact Slate. With an ounce of concentration she could possibly send an illusion of a voice intended to be heard only by one person on the other side of the world. She tried to clear her thoughts, to banish all her worries about the students and the refugees, to ignore the thoughts of how to get back to him, to solely focus on this one message.

In her mind's eye, she could see the face of the friend she had known for over ten years, the face that had once belonged to another of her friends, the face of the man she loved. Slate. His perennially tousled brown hair, the baby blue eyes that looked like the sky on a clear summer's day, the set of his chin, the straightness of his back, the feeling of his fur when she scratched his ears... Katrina shook her head and smiled for the first time that morning as if at her own private joke. She hadn't meant to think of him in his grizzled wolfhound form, but the fact that she could smile at all meant that clearing her mind was starting to work.

The illusionist pictured him with closed eyes, standing on a mountain ridge with the wind blowing through his already messy hair. He had just a hint of a smile on his face. It was the way he had looked a day not long before Katrina had left. When they were still both so certain that they could save the world all by themselves.

Thousands of miles away, an almost transparent voice would whisper into the mind of a young psychic healer, if he was listening, Are you safe? I'm coming back to you.

With a screech the cab pulled to a stop in front of a very familiar set of iron gates, completely destroying her concentration. Katrina lurched forward in her seat, completely unprepared for the sudden decrease in velocity. The reality crashed down around her again as she resumed thinking about her purpose for being here. She was calmer now. The meditation had helped reduce her sense of panic, replacing it with a single minded focus. She was going to go get Slate and her students and bring them back from China.

Sara had already arrived, possibly just a few moments before she had. There was the tootsie roll car, and there was the mountain lioness woman, wearing her own skin and looking ready for action with her golden hair blowing in the slight breeze. She was a strong woman and a good friend. If anyone had to be with her today, Katrina was glad it was her.

Sam was also waiting by the gates, looking as if he'd just been playing with his son and his dog. He looked so grown up now; though he'd always been older than Katrina he just seemed as though there was a new look of maturity and responsibility about him. Perhaps being a father had done that to him, had helped him to grow up.

Katrina opened the car door, and a gust of wind flung it open the rest of the way, pulling the handle right out from between her fingertips. Perhaps it was windier than she had expected. Without delay, she hurried over to where her two friends were standing, “A war just broke out over in China, and Slate is there with seven of our students. I'm not sure... I mean... I need to find out if they are safe and we need to get them out as soon as possible. Could... would it be possible for you to fly me over there? The Blackbird is the fastest way I can think of to get in and out again.” Katrina grabbed his hand in both of her own, her grey eyes looked into his pleadingly. “Please, Sam.”

“Aunt Sara!” yelled Sammy as he tiredly jumped into the air and tackled her with a hug. “Did you come to play?” Sammy asked excitedly, his tail twitching in excitement as he let go and circled around her smiling, “I also have a new painting I want you to see it is on me and Chelsea chasing my dad who is riding a boat!” cried Sammy happily as he continued to fly about happy that his favorite aunt came to visit. “What’s wrong… you don’t have to go away with dad do you?” Sammy asked his tail slightly dropping along with Sammy in the air.

“Not yet…” said Sam as he watched his son fly over into a hugging tackle. “Kat seemed serious… you know what this is about?” he asked as his head tilted slightly as he petted Chelsea who was clearly upset about something. “First time I have seen her in like… damn, a few years…” said Sam as he looked to his son who continued to fly around Sara the way a gnat flies around a frog buying it’s time. Almost sure that Sara was going to snatch him up Sam looked to the front gate as a car pulled in.

Smiling as the adult version of Katrina made her appearance. Those familiar gray eyes still caught his attention the way they did when she was younger, eyes he had long since associated with innocence, something that Katrina embodied ever since she was little, one look of those eyes and Sam would be more than happy to do a favor for her. The blond hair quickly became visible as she exited her car and ran over to them talking about war. Once Katrina finished talking and grabbing his hands Sam looked back at those gray eyes and sighed, “Can’t say no to you…” he said as he patted Katrina on the head, “Take a few deep breaths, I’ll get you there before anything happens to him I promise.”

Looking to Sara then to his son Sam yelled, “Attention!” yelled Sam like a drill sergeant to his platoon who were just getting ready to go on a mission, “Go pack me a change of clothes, with my travel duffle bag and meet me at the Hanger…Dismissed!” yelled Sam as his son nodded and shot off to the open window that was Sam’s room as fast as Sammy could fly.

Pulling out his phone and dialing pound then zero Sam yelled into the phone, “Eddy you see the news?” he paused for a second and motioned for Kat and were to follow him as he started running towards the basketball courts that had a recently added escape hatch that was the equivalence of a slide to the jet hanger. Jumping down the shaft Sam yelled into the phone, “Start her up and plot a course for me, I need to get there two hours ago…”

As quickly as he landed to the ground he was already on his feet running to the X-jet, which just started it’s engines letting out a low hum, signaling that the jet was in fact starting up and was ready for the trip. As he entered the seat Sammy was already waiting for him, Sara and Katrina. Strapped into his seat with a smile on his face and Sam’s duffle bag on his lap.

“Don’t think so Sammy…” said Sam as he walked to his sons seat and took his duffle bag and kissed him on the forehead, “It’s a boring mission...no fun what so ever… sides you have homework.” The look on his sons face souered as Sam continued, “I’ll call Lee to let her know that she will be keeping an eye on you got it? So I’ll know if you don’t do your homework.” Sam watched his son pout and walk out of the Jet with his tail between his legs.

Jumping into his seat Sam flipped some switches turned some knobs and put his head phone in his right ear as he buckled himself in waiting for the take off. “Eddy find out the safest route their, I don’t want to run into much trouble, with war and all I can’t imagine it will be a cake walk…” smiling as he looked back to his two passengers he asked, “So is this just a pick up? Or do you two have something else you want?” asked Sam as he turned back to the front and fired up the engines.

Sara was tackled by little Sammy and she smiled but the smile never made it to her eyes. “Hey Sammy.” She gave him a quick squeeze of a hug before he left Sara’s arms and started circling her in the air. She really needed to spend more time with Sammy. They didn’t get nearly enough time with Sara’s work schedule anymore. But now wasn’t the time.

“I’ll have to see your painting when we get back.” Sara said feeling a stab of pain in the back of her throat. She hated making him wait. “Katrina and I have to go with your dad now.” She said to little Sammy who’s mid air posture wasn’t doing anything to make Sara’s heart feel better. “When we get back, I’ll play all day with you.”

Before Sara could say more, or even make a pinky promise, Slick was starting to play the distraction. She watched Sammy speed off, and listened to Slick’s phone conversation. She took the cues, and grabbed a small duffle bag out of her car, before taking off and running just on Slick’s heals. Tail whipping the air behind her.

Her feet hit the shoot and instead of laying flat, she let her feet slide down so it was like she was surfing. Using the angles of her feet to controle her speed her arms shot out every now and then to the sides, just for her own balance.

They reached the bottom and she was in the jet before she realized what was about to happen. She was about to go flying… … … in a very closed area… … … and there were no flight attendants to pass her new little air sick baggys. Not to mention the x-men probably didn’t like claw marks in their seats. She instantly started looking for a place to grip with her hands, that weren’t receive claw indentations so easily. “Um… how long is this flight going to be?”

Ok. Bad question. Sort would seem good but that meant they were going incredibly fast and on that thought, Sara’s tail fluffed.

>>>“Can’t say no to you…” he said as he patted Katrina on the head, “Take a few deep breaths, I’ll get you there before anything happens to him I promise.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

She did as Sam told her and took a few deep breaths. The panic she had initially felt was starting to fade, not really because of the extra oxygen, but because she felt like she was now doing something about the problem. She was taking at least some control over the situation and the path before her was clear. All she had to do was follow the path to its completion and follow Sam to the hanger.

She would have loved the secret slide entrance as a girl. There hadn't had anything like it the first time she had been in the hanger. Now it seemed kind of like something from a Batman comic or something. Quick, Katgirl, to the X-cave!

>>>“So is this just a pick up? Or do you two have something else you want?”

Katrina turned to look at her feline companion next to her as Sam's attention was divided between them and the various controls in the cockpit. Sara seemed busy looking for hand holds or something. She looked almost as thrilled at the idea of flying as a certain unicorn shifter she knew. They did have a mission to complete in China other than picking up Slate and the students, but it seemed so much less important now.

“We'll see how the rescue mission goes,” she answered matter-of-factly. Then they could think about the mission to guard the life of the Chinese president.

At this point, she was almost ready to do away with Zhang Xiao herself. This whole war was his fault from the very beginning. If it hadn't been for his actions against mutants, there would have been no reason for two idealistic young teachers to lead seven students into the Himalayas in an effort to aid the escaping refugees. There would have been no reason for a young woman to fly halfway round the world to overturn every stone in the tallest mountain range in the world to search for her missing students and fellow teacher. There would be no reason for an illusionist and a puma woman to act as bodyguards for a man they didn't even particularly want alive in the first place.

She really didn't think that she could follow through with the second phase of her China mission. She wasn't even sure it was necessary anymore. They had been trying to prevent a war; now that it had already started was there any point in continuing?

Outside the windows, the school was falling away rapidly as they rose in altitude. Soon, not even cars were visible on the busy New York streets below them. The clouds around them were puffy and white, as if the turbulence and troubles of the people down below had no bearing on them whatsoever.