Marie's heart began to race like it was going to jump out her chest. It happened every time she felt someone's gaze on her. The gaze of a stranger. Her sensitive skin didn't know the eyes, only that they were looking directly at her back. She took a deep breath.

/Don't panic. You're in the mansion for God's sake. There are no enemies here. No enemies./

She turned around and saw a woman sitting on the stairs. Purple hair, red tattoo across her eye, long black cloak, not looking very fresh. The woman smoked her cigarette and continued to stare. Marie looked around. Kitty, Jubilee, John, Bobby, the others--they all were here, she had nothing to be afraid of. Her heartbeat started to slow down. The steel claws of her self-preservation instinct slowly let her go.

She never saw the woman, but she knew her. From where, though? Oh, of course, she saw her picture in the Professor's office. Psylocke. One of the former students.

"Oh, Mr. Allerdyce, look at you!?" The woman finally focused her attention on John, placing her hand over her heart and closing her eyes. "When I saw you last time, you were playing with Transformers and dreamed to save the world," she purred.

John looked flattered. He even blushed a little. Suddenly Marie realized who he pictured jerking off in his sleepless nights. That thought made her smile.

"Liz, I told you, I prefer John."

"First of all, as I have said, I prefer Liz, but not in your case, honey. Elizabeth would be nice. And you know I like your second name. It sounds like the second name of the ancient dark knight. Don't you feel the romance in it, Allerdyce?"

John wanted to say something cool and romantic, but then he noticed Marie standing few steps away, ever the undesirable witness. He bent down and whispered something on the woman's ear.

"Like I said, not in your case, Allerdyce."

John sighed and went to the house, leaving the two women face to face.

"Impudent as a devil," the woman thought aloud. "Mark my words: if there is the person who can destroy this mutant's paradise, it will be John Allerdyce. By the way, my name's Elizabeth Braddock, honey, some people know me as Psylocke. I personally prefer Liz. Yeah, in your case Liz would be nice. Do you mind that I read you a bit?"

Marie finally relaxed and stopped to study Liz carefully. She was very pale and slim, with big sharp eyes looking directly in your soul. She was young. Younger than Ms. Grey, but older than the students. And she was beautiful, Marie had to admit that. Some kind of dark, dangerous beauty was inside her.

"Read me a bit?" Marie repeated slowly.

"Yeah, honey, I do that sometimes. Sit here with me."

Marie heard the voice inside her head, the sound of it came directly into her ear, but Liz's lips were not moving. She slowly sat near.

"You like natural communication, don't you?" This time Psylocke spoke aloud.

Marie only nodded. Too many telepaths in this mansion, too many. She finally saw the car parked not far from the stairs. A car without numbers, shining in the sun. It was the same color with Liz's hair.

"I left this place five years ago, but nothing really has changed," Liz sighed, offering Marie a cigarette.

"No, thank you." She hated tobacco. It was strange, because she always liked the comforting smell of Logan's cigars.

"Ahh, you don't understand this, do you? The tobacco philosophy. Smoke can hide your nervousness, pain, and tears--all emotions, really. I'm sure Logan would have agreed with me."

Marie nearly jumped with surprise.

"You know Logan?"

Psylocke threw her cigarette away and laughed.

"And you are jealous, aren't you, honey?"

Marie suddenly felt anger. This bitch with tattoos came here, read a bit of her thoughts, all cool and sexy, and now she just laughing at her. Very nice. Maybe, just maybe, she doesn't know that there's enough anger in her to take off this thin silky glove to remove the self-satisfied smile from Liz's face. And this honey thing?

She was ready to tell everything that was on her mind, but the woman's face became serious.

"I felt the pain inside you. That's why you drew my attention. You're so young, and the pain is so deep. And Logan? I know him because you know him."

Marie sighed heavily.

"That's right, I'm a telepath." Psylocke lighted another smoke and suddenly realized, that she said the phrase with the "I'm an alcoholic" tone. It was funny. My name is Elizabeth and I'm an telepath. Really funny.

"I was a normal girl, but then one day I woke up and realized that I could hear every single thought of the people around me. Like in that damn comedy with Mel Gibson. Thousands of thoughts every day. My brain couldn't take it, I thought it would explode. I thought I was loosing my mind, until the man we both know came into my life."

"And he helped you?"

Stupid question. Of course he did.

"He taught me to control my abilities. He taught me to receive only the information that I really need. And to give information back. One day he'll help you too."

"I don't believe that," Marie sighed again. She suddenly felt the need to cry. Amazing, a couple of minutes ago she was almost happy.

No, it was the self-deception. Almost three years have passed, but she never felt herself happy. Never since that day.

"I'm not telling you to believe me. I'm telling you to be patient. That's all."

Psylocke stood up and hid the pack of cigarettes in her pocket--she remembered Professor's anti-tobacco politics, but from her mind communications with Jeannie she knew he made an exception for this Logan. Marie felt the sudden disappointment that their meeting was already over.

"Why didn't you become one of the X-Men?" she asked when Psylocke opened the door.

"Honey, I'm not a person who enjoys saving the world. Not me. Damn, that Allerdyce--if he only was couple years older ..." She smiled pensively before disappearing behind the heavy wooden doors.

Marie turned away, but then the doors opened again.

"Tonight, you'll feel pure happiness," Liz promised and then closed the door again.

She couldn't sleep tonight. Some spring had tightened inside her, and she was walking through the dark corridors of the mansion like a ghost.

She came back in the room, bathed in the soft colors of sun rising and stood near their bed, watching the sleeping man on it. The man she loved with all her heart, but couldn't touch, couldn't feel the sweet friction against his skin, or couldn't taste the tobacco on his tongue.

/But you still can feel his love for you./

She reached out her glove-covered hand and placed it on his chest, feeling his slow heart beating. He had a big loving heart, she knew that . Everything in this heart, which was closed to emotions for fifteen years, was for her. Everything. With every beat of his heart she felt deeper and deeper into the swirl of emotions. He loved her--that's all that was important. She felt tears on her cheeks, but they weren't bitter this time. They were the tears of pure happiness.

"It wasn't her thought," Jean smiled.

"Ehhh, not entirely." Liz gave her an innocent look and breathed out the bitter smoke, looking at the window, where the new sun was rising.

THE END