Lying on her back, icy eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, Electra wove her fingers across her stomach, a low sigh escaping her.

Shifting her head, her eyes drifted to the other mutant in the room with her. She had felt the arrival of Mystique, even before she made herself visible. The blue mutant had no idea about Electra's wiccan powers.

During her time with the X-Men, she had worked on both, developing her abilities. She knew her control was good, but her patience – especially with this glamorous-looking, scaled mutant – was wearing thin.

"What do you want, now?"

Solid yellow eyes gazed at her contemptuously, as if to remind her that she - Electra - was the newcomer, the interloper, the one who didn't belong with them. Naturally, it didn't work.

Seeing as Electra had taken her place in Magneto's favour, nothing any of the other mutants in the rebel union did could affect the newcomer's feeling of belonging.

After all, it was only Mystique who was an unreasonable bitch.

At first, she had received guarded respect, as they made their way back to 'Home'. The oldest mutant present, the charismatic Magneto, insisted it was to be called home, not 'the lair' or some equally childish drivel.

He was smart. She had realised that the moment she was introduced to him. And he appeared to have realised the same of her, his clear curiosity carefully concealed behind mask of calm civility.

Indeed, it was she who had been in discussion with the master of this particular group of mutants for several hours of the previous day, instead of his apparent lover, Mystique. Electra almost smiled to herself. If she hadn't been so dangerous to touch, she was certain that the suave gentleman would have played out a carefully-plotted seduction.

With guarded hostility, the blue-skinned woman smiled coldly. "Magneto wants to see you."

"Of course he does." Rolling to her feet, sparks dancing on her skin, she flashed her best 'I won't kill you soon' smile at the red-haired mutant. If there was one thing she missed, it was her red hair that had made her undeniably Willow Rosenberg.

That and the innocence and sweetness and light.

Strolling passed the practically snarling woman, she ran a hand through her static-raised hair casually, musing it a little more than usual. She knew she'd maintained her cute look, which having mussed hair only laid emphasis on.

Made her look sweet and relatively harmless.

What a joke.

Making her way into the deserted office chambers that Magneto resided in, she rubbed one hand warily down the leg of her jeans. Something definitely didn't feel right, the ominous silence only reaffirming her unease.

"Ah, Electra." The familiar accent murmured from behind her. She swung around, found him standing in the doorway, clad impeccably as ever. She almost applauded. Even the little wings of silvering hair were perfect.

Nodding, as if unaware of what was going on, she faked another pleasant smile. She knew all too well what was going on and she planned to play it for all it was worth. Folding her hands, she undid the clip that locked her hand guards shut, never taking her eyes from the form of the man before her.

"I called you here for...a rather important reason..."

"Instead of another screw on the desk?"

The stone-cold features wavered slightly. Control. That was good. "Maybe later." The tone was a little strained, she noted with glee. Being bad could be so much fun. "For now, I need to tell you that you must leave or risk death, my dear."

"From who?" She raised one brow with a crackle of static. Pausing, she deliberately picked her wording. "Mystique?" Again, there was a tiny wavering in the controlled tightness of the old man's face.

"Perhaps." His other hand slid from his pocket, a small, black revolver gripped in his palm. "Then again, perhaps not."

Electra stifled a chuckle. "A gun. You're going to shoot me. How unoriginal. What about all that 'we are brothers and fight together' bullshit? Did I just get kicked out of the family without knowing about it?"

"You're an outsider. A danger to the family." The muzzle was aimed directly at her heart. Forcing a frightened expression on her face, her eyes widened in mock fear. "For that, I'm afraid you must die."

"Why not skewer me with shards of metal instead of a bullet? C'mon. I want to die originally."

Cold grey eyes flecked with traces of yellow met hers. "I'm sorry, Electra, but this is the only way forward."

The retort of the gun going off was deafening, ringing off the high walls of the cavern.

*

Startled to realise she had been caught in a protective embrace by the blonde man, Rogue stared nervously over at the dark...man? Deep ridges marred his broad forehead, his lips curled back from unnaturally sharp and ragged teeth.

"Wh...what is he?" She asked shakily, hastily pulling away from Spike, her hands trembling.

Xavier and Giles exchanged glances. "He is a vampire, Rogue. The same as our friend, William, there." The bald mutant gestured to the bleach blonde beside her. "Show her your true face, Spike."

Shrugging, his face rippled into the demonic folds. Her shock was palpable. "But...but vampires aren't real." She shook her head, groping for her gloves and hastily pulling them on again. "They're not real."

"You must have a bloody good imagination, then, ducks." Letting his human face return, the blonde glanced at the dark vampire, who was struggling upright against the wall, wheezing and trembling, his human face back in place. "I'm as real as you are."

"But...you didn't drink our blood and kill us..."

"Observant little thing, ain't she?" Chuckling the blonde turned and moved towards the door. Pausing, his hand on the hefty handle, he glanced pityingly back at her. "If I could, luv, I would drain you in a second."

Disappearing out of the room, the silence left in his wake was deafening. Angel stumbled to his feet, practically falling into one of the empty seats. His normally pale face was ashen. "What did you do to me?"

"She proved something to me." Xavier murmured thoughtfully. "You have a soul, correct?"

"Yeah, but I don't see..."

"Spike has no human soul, correct?" The brunette's brow wrinkled in thought. "It appears that Rogue's power only affects those with a soul. Spike was not affected in any way, as far as we can see..."

As far as we can see...

Rogue met the professor's eyes. He knew too. He had to know. True, there was no life force for her to draw on but there was more, a lot more. "Could I...talk to you, professor? Alone?" She glanced implicitly at the vampire and the...was he really a man?

"Of course, Rogue."

Giles seemed to understand the code language and helped the still-shaking Angel to his feet, supporting him as he led him out of the room, leaving the professor and the young mutant to talk in private.

*

The bullet hung in the air, an inch from Electra's chest. The look on Magneto's face was priceless, eyes wide in surprise. Stretching out her hand, Electra opened her palm and the bullet dropped lightly into it.

Fighting the urge to demand to know how the bullet had been stopped, the gun was raised again, this time aimed at the young mutant's head.

Suddenly, an invisible blow struck the hot weapon from Magneto's hand, sending it spinning across the floor. Staring wildly from the fallen gun to the silver-skinned mutant, cold, grey-yellow eyes narrowed.

"Use the force, Luke." Electra murmured, her smile one of calm self-confidence.

So it was down to hand-to-hand combat? Very well...

Magneto started forward, only to feel an invisible hand constrict around his windpipe, cutting off the air to his lungs. Trying to take another step, the grip tightened, skin bruising under the unseen touch.

"Stop..."

"You tried to kill me." Electra said. Her voice was calm, neutral. "You didn't think you'd get away with it, did you, Mystique?"

The shape-shifting mutant's eyes widened, behind her disguise as Magneto. She'd thought the kid had guessed when it had been her and the wolf-man. Or at least, that she was bluffing. Apparently not, though.

"How did you know...?"

Electra's lips curved into a cool smile. "That," She murmured, drawing closer to the gagging mutant. "Is my little secret..." Raising one hand, she ran her fingers down the Magneto mask that Mystique had assumed. "A secret you'll never find out."

Rising on her toes, she pressed her lips to the other mutant's. Electricity poured from her skin, the unshakable power weakening Mystique so much that the facade fell. Her body shuddered as the silver mutant stepped back, letting her drop to the floor, twitching.

Turning, Electra walked out of the room. In the massive antechamber, she passed Toad. He was, as usual, practising his martial arts. He flashed her a shy grin, twirling his long staff in an elaborate circle.

Pausing, she watched him. Then, she asked. "Does Mystique actually do anything useful around here, Toad?"

Springing up from the lower level to join her, he shrugged. "She's got that whole shapeshifting gig, but apart from that..." He trailed off significantly, hefting his staff to the silver-skinned, young mutant.

"I don't get what her problem is." Waiting for him to retrieve his other weapon, she swung the long pole deftly. "She can look human when she wants to. Its not like we have a choice in the matter, is it?"

Moving into a familiar routine of attack-block, the other mutant nodded. "If she was stuck in the whole blue thing, that would be okay, but she can be as normal as she wants. She can look she isn't one of us..."

A subdued silence fell, as they combated. Although Toad was swifter and more skilled, Electra was learning well. Beads of sweat crackled on her forehead and she dropped back, panting with exertion.

"I had a friend once..." She murmured absently, tossing the long staff back to the green mutant. "She was a human...but she was different. She was one of a kind...she was told she would never have friends, a life, or anything because she was so different..."

Toad eyed her with interest. "Is this one of those 'I had a friend, but she's not me' stories?"

"Uh..." Electra wished she could slap herself across the head. "Yeah. It is." Mentally chastising herself for slipping into brood-mode, she forced a tight grin. "When the boss gets back, tell him I've left...a little present in his office..."

"A present? Anything interestin'?"

Electra couldn't contain a smirk. "Something blue."

*

"All right, kid, let's see what you've got."

Bouncing on her toes, Buffy grinned. "You sure? I don't want to hurt you..."

"You'll have to hit me hard to do that, kid. Let me be the judge of how much it hurts." The muscular man looked at his petite rival. She didn't even look strong enough to swat a fly, let alone kick the crap outta him.

Her innocent smile was deceptive, the flurry of blows hitting him before he had a chance to blink. His instincts kicked and he ducked, weaved, avoided each carefully aimed punch. Damn! The kid was good.

Swinging under a roundhouse kick, he caught her ankle, flipped her backwards She rolled swiftly and was on her feet in a heartbeat, her body coiled and ready to attack. Her fist shot towards his face, he caught it, twisting her arm behind her back.

With a tug and a jerk, felt her back and other elbow lift him, tossing her over her body. Landing heavily on the floor, he felt her foot pressing down on his throat and blinked the stars out of his vision.

"Nice moves." He grated, feigning weakness. She shrugged, yelling in indignation as he grabbed her ankle, twisting her foot from underneath her and pinning her onto her back. Her legs jerked up, knees catching him in the gut and lifting him with surprising force.

Rolling away from her and scrambling o his feet, he immediately met another roundhouse kick across the jaw, with enough force to send him tumbling halfway across the gym and to crash into the unpadded walls.

Pushing his jaw back into place, he forced himself to his feet again. The girl was still bouncing lightly on her toes, her blonde hair falling loose from her ponytail, her face rosy from the exertion of the fight.

"You gonna actually hit me some time today?" He eyed her warily. "Look, I know you're holding back cos I'm a girl. Let those babies out..." She gestured to his knuckles. "I haven't had a good fight in a long time and the old guy says you're the best."

Nodding, Logan flicked his claws out. "You get hurt and its all your own fault, kid. I won't hold back, if you don't."

From the sidelines of the room, there was a muffled snort of laughter from the teen known as Xander. Both the Slayer and Wolverine shot a glare at the boy, then turned their attention back to one another.

The fight was fast and furious, blood and bruises drawn on both sides. A clear combination of street-fighting and traditional martial arts could clearly be seen in both of them, feet and fists flying with deadly accuracy.

The door squeaked open, but neither of the combatants noticed as the X-Men slipped unobtrusively into the room, along with Giles, Angel and Spike. All six stopped short in awe, the fight so swift it looked like it was being played in fast forward.

"Bloody hell..." Spike mumbled, shooting a glance at the Watcher. "Did you know she could fight like that?"

Giles couldn't find the words to form an answer. Both combatants were equally measured in skill and strength, each determined to defeat the other. Their stubborn resolve not to lose made it more of a battle than a training fight.

Logan's claws skimmed Buffy's upper arm, opening three neat parallel striped of crimson. The scent of blood reached the two vampires, who stiffened. Slayer blood, in any form, was incredibly intoxicating.

She glanced down. "Nice work." She drawled, slamming the heel of her hand into his face, following the blow with a sharp kick to the gut that tossed him across the room. He hit the wall, about ten feet above the ground and dropped, shaking his head to clear it.

"Damn..." Scott whispered in awe. "Where'd she get strength like that?"

"It's her Slayerness." Xander put in helpfully, as Buffy offered the panting X-Man her hand and pulled him easily to his feet. "It's like she's superman, without the green kryptonite weakness."

Logan looked her up and down, catching sight of the narrow cuts on her arm. "Sorry about that, kid." She followed his gaze, shrugged.

"No worries. They'll be gone in a few minutes."

The powerfully built mutant's brow wrinkled in puzzlement. "You have healing abilities too? Are you sure you're not a mutant?"

"Giles would have told me." She gave the Englishman a fond smile. "Plus, I don't think mutants have the Slayer-sense…" She glanced towards Angel, a look of concern creeping onto her features. "Angel? Are you okay?"

"A little dizzy…" He let her run to him, slide her arm around his waist to hold him upright. Anything was better than leaning against the wall. "I just found out that its not just the usual vampy things that can kill me…an interesting experience."

"Daft pillock scared the stripy-haired kid half to death." Spike put in helpfully.

"I didn't ask her to touch me, Spike." Angel reminded him quietly. He turned to Buffy, looking at the healing cuts on her arm. "You fought good." His voice was low, admiring, traces of his love still lingering in his tone. "As usual."

Clearly feeling awkward in the lingering silence, Logan cleared his throat. "So…uh, what are we gonna do about Electra? And Magneto? We've got a damn good fighter here. I think its time we kicked his ass…"

Glances were exchanged in the Scooby Gang ranks. "Took him a while to figure why we were here, didn't it?" Cordelia chuckled dryly, lazily getting to her feet, Xander following quickly.

"You're here to fight Magneto with us?"

Buffy shrugged. "Why not? He sounds like a threat to humanity and that's what I fight."

"So we gotta fight on the same side?" Logan smothered an almost-smile. "Damn! I kinda liked the idea of pummelin' ya again."

Leaving Angel's side, Buffy reached up and patronizingly patted the large mutant on the head. "All in good time, Logan. All in good time." She grinned. "And remember…I was holding back."

Ignoring his grumble of protest, she turned and walked out the room, the rest of the group following her. Logan was trailing behind, a half-grin playing on his features. Cute, funny as hell, a snappy dresser and a good fighter.

Some girls were just too good to be true.

*

"What did you do to Mystique?"

Sprawled on her stomach on her bed, flicking through a magazine, Electra didn't even lift her eyes to Magneto. "I gave her a kiss."

"Do you have any idea what you've done to her?" His voice was calm, but she could hear the cold, calculated anger rippling off every syllable.

"Apart from electrocuting her to within an inch of her sorry life, preventing her from killing me and basically pissing you off?" Silver eyes met chilling grey. "No." Her smile was crooked. "I don't have a damn clue."

"Killing you? Mystique would never…"

"Take your form, try and shoot me in cold blood because she was jealous? Of course not. That's just not her style…" Turning back to her magazine, she chuckled coolly. "I didn't like her anyway. Anyone who wanders around naked has to be an exhibitionist and I've never liked them."

Magneto gazed down at the girl. Yes, she was smart. She definitely had power. She also lacked that obedience and respect that Mystique and the majority of his other group members had for him.

There was always the chance of betrayal.

"We're going out tonight." He finally said. "I have a little test for you to do."

Her eyes rose slowly, warily. "What kind of a test?"

"A test of loyalty." His smile was fixed, calm. "You almost killed my second in command. That doesn't seem an entirely loyal thing to do. I want you to prove yourself to me, if you wish to stay." He paused, examining his nails thoughtfully. "And, if you wish to live."

Sitting up, Electra nodded. "I'm loyal. I'll do anything, okay. Just show me your test and I'll show you just how damn loyal I can be."

"Good." Something in that single word terrified the young mutant. His chilling calm was unnatural. Magneto turned, his small, cruel smile raising the corners of his lips. As he shut the door behind him, he softly repeated. "Good."