xp_logs | Everyday Superhero

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After class, Garrison and Haller take Angel into the city to a camera shop. With her dad on the way, they leave to do some errands of their own.

"The last thing you need is more coffee, Angel. That stuff stunts your growth, and you're already stunty enough." Garrison turned at the light, ignoring the homeless man doing his Ratso Rizzo impression at the crosswalk. It had seemed simple enough. Come into town, pick up some things Marie had asked for, maybe catch Marie-Ange for lunch, and drop by the field office with some paperwork. In the space of five minutes, he had ended up with the Caffinated Firestarter in his back seat, and David 'Greek Chorus Brain' Haller beside him.

"I think that depends more on which end of the mutant metabolism you end up on," said the counselor from the passenger side where his hair was brushing the roof of the car. Jim had more consideration for other people's lungs than to take a cigarette out of the case he was fiddling with, but given the company for this trip lighting up was a pretty substantial temptation. "Angel, are you going to need one of us to hang around when we drop you off?" Or will Garrison and I be learning to love the awkward silence?

"Nope!" Angel responded, grabbing for her jacket. She hadn't brought much with her, this run was really to check out what the shop had more than anything and the tended to frown on large backpack type things among shiny equipment. "My dad'll meet up with me in about ten or so minutes. And during that ten minutes, I will safely be tucked inside the camera shop, drooling my little fiery heart out." Peering between the two adults, she could just see the shop and let out a squeal of glee. For some girls, it was shoes. Not for Angel...

"Okay, as long as there's something to amuse you. But call us when he shows up, okay? Just so we know there hasn't been an 'incident' and the school doesn't have to restructure the going-out security measures again." He still wasn't that comfortable with leaving a student alone, but sooner or later the kids would have to graduate from the school's protective measures. Being sheltered from all possible risk was going to screw them for making any kind of smooth transition. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jim mentally moved up to where the awkward silence was standing by the bar and bought it a drink.

"I say we stick them all into barrels until they're eighteen. Feed them through the bungholes. Then, if they end up insufferable enough, we just drive the bung in." Garrison was only mostly kidding as he pulled up in front of the shop, and stopped the car. "It's noon now. We're going to head back around three, so when you're done with your dad, just give us a call, alright?"

"Aye, aye, sirs!" Snickering, Angel gave them a mock salute before scooting out of the car door. "Oh, shoot, jacket!" Leaning back in, she snagged her Xavier's school jacket. Not that she needed it but with the weather, it looked normal to be wearing one out in public. "I'll see you guys later, thanks for the lift!"

Across town, at the FBI field office, Garrison gets in some mindless paper work as Haller tries to figure out where to go from there.

"Alright, ground rules. Don't touch anything, don't talk to anyone, and keep that badge in front of you at all times." Kane said, walking through the floor of the FBI field office. "I'm only going to be ten minutes. Just drop a couple of files off, and then we can go do... whatever it is you like to do." He shifted his badge belt clip to one side as he reached his desk.

"I'm going to call someone to see if there's time for lunch, if that's okay. Don't worry. I've worked in places where you have to pin identification to your shirt and avoid sudden movements before." He was getting looks. Just flicks of gaze, economic and professional. These were people used to monitoring security. Recent terrorist attacks probably hadn't helped. Jim paid them no mind, following the other man. "Paperwork from your leave?" he asked.

"No. A series of reports on a current development in mutant terrorism. The bureau is taking a close look at the linkage between mutant terrorism and socio-economic factors. My report is based around 'scumbags are scumbags regardless of genetic stature." Kane tossed a file aside and sat down. "Yeah, it's a waste of time, but it is important. Dial nine and don't call any porn lines. I got busted last week for that."

"They always sounded like they were trying too hard." Taking the visitor's chair across from the desk, Jim reached over and picked up the receiver. He punched in the number; it went straight to voicemail. "Hey, it's me. I'm in town for a little while. I've got my cell. Let me know if you want to get something to eat." He thought of trying her again at the office until he realized there were decent odds the call would go through Mark. He just put the receiver back.

"Maybe I'll just have you drop me off at a market so I can grab something halal for Sooraya," Jim said. "The school stocks the basics okay, but there's stuff I like that's off the general list, too." He looked at Garrison over the man's paperwork. "How much do you get listened to here, anyway? My experience has been about 50/50 between honest cooperation and pretty insulting tokenism."

"How much do I get listened to? About as much as any other junior agent with less than two years under his belt at the job. Which is to say, not a lot, except where it comes to my specialties." Kane grinned briefly, flipping through papers while he talked. "Most people only come to the FBI after a few years somewhere else. Fred; that's DAD Fred Duncan, gives me a lot more time than he likely should, because of my relationship with both the school and the Canadian government. However, in the context of this place, I'm strictly here to be occasionally useful, as opposed to running cases or investigations."

Kane stacked the folders up into a neat pile, adding the stack of paper he'd printed out at the school last night. "Not that being a fifth wheel is really my favourite thing in the world, but Duncan's got the right idea. It might be a cover for my activities with the school on behalf of the Canadian government, but it's also what I'm down here to learn too.

Squishy, ran the part of his brain that was completely unable to leave good sentiments alone, though they were a distant background. Jim picked up a pen and placed the shaft across one index finger, balancing it despite a little wobbling. Garrison's pairing request and the fact Jim had been taking time to get himself back in order from January's psychic event made real assessment hard, but the other man seemed a lot more comfortable in the middle of the FBI than he had with the team in the briefing before Youra. He'd read the report after sitting comms for the kidnapping of the president's daughters. Now that Garrison was a part of a team that couldn't have official affiliation sometimes Jim had to wonder if that could turn into a conflict of interest. Or comfort.

Like his missions to date have been so trust-inducing. I'm gonna take a shot and say the best thing you can do for his team morale is stay away. Far.

"Just be careful of splitting yourself too many ways or you end up in one of the designated sanity recovery points," Jim said. "You may be from Canada, but now we switch off with Tibet."

As Angel finds out her dad can't make it, she's about to call for a pick up...when she notices the fire and overhears that the situation is a little more dire than what it originally looked like.

When Angel's cell phone rang, again, she blushed at the irritated look the shop owner had given her. It was probably her dad. Nearly as soon as she'd set foot in the store, he called to say he was running late. "I'll take it outside," she told the guy, rolling her eyes when she wasn't facing him. In this day and age, cell phones in a store were the norm. Petting a camera, she hopped the door before answering.

"Hey dad!"

"Hey sweetheart. Look, I don't know if I can make it..." There was the sound of honking wherever he was. "The traffic is horrendous, something's got to be happening but I'm not sure what."

"Aww..." Angel sighed, disappointed. "Well, if you got your car radio fixed, you'd totally know what the problem is." She grinned. "Look, no worries, I'll call Mr. H and Garrison and get them to come pick me up, okay? And we'll make up the lunch later, right?"

"Of course. Got to go, Angel. I love you and be careful."

"I will, love you too, daddy." How old did he think she was, 7? Shaking her head, Angel started to dial Garrison's cell phone when she stopped, sniffing the air. The wind had changed, blowing from down the street and it brought the smell of...smoke? Yeah, something was on fire and there was a lot of it.

Curious, she decided to put off the call for a few minutes and she trotted down the street. Traffic was snarled something fierce, that was probably what her dad had gotten caught up in. And in a few minutes, she found herself in the middle of a small crowd, all of them staring at the brownstone that was currently in flames. Squeezing through, Angel made her way to the front of the crowd, stopping where the caution tape was.

Firefighters were swarming the area, battling the fire while the civilians milled around and talked amongst each other. It took Angel a few seconds but she realized that there was a group of men huddled around one of the cars, only a few feet away. Curious, she listened in, fascinated by the entire thing. And then her heart dropped.

"We've got an injured man trapped in there," one of the older men said, yelling into a radio, "and two civilians, the last two we were going in after. The entire place could go up any minute and it's too dangerous to go in, the fire's too hot and debris is coming down their ears! Find me another way in, dammit! And find it fast!"

The scene went from fascinating to gut wrenchingly frightening in less than a heart beat. Angel's fingers curled around her cell phone as she stared up, watching the flames dance through the windows and through any opening it could find. She'd come over, curious, just to watch what would happen and...now people were going to die? Or at the very least, get hurt very, very badly. A sick feeling came over and she wondered how fast either Garrison, Mr. Haller or the X-Men could get here.

'Not enough time,' she thought to herself, not realizing that she was edging towards the back of the building. 'Oh my God oh my God oh my God...I can do something. I'm fire proof, I can get in there...maybe I could tell them...'

But they wouldn't let her. Who was to say they would even let a mutant near the place? Even if they did, they wouldn't let a kid near the place. Biting her lip, Angel managed to use the distraction of the people around her to her advantage and soon found herself pressed up against the wooden fence in front of a small back yard. Luck had been on her side and she hoped it wasn't going anywhere.

She was going to throw up, she couldn't do this. She couldn't she couldn't she couldn't...but people could die...she had to.

Whimpering, Angel grabbed the top of the fence and started to haul herself up, at the same time desperately opening her mind like they'd taught her at the school. #Professor Xavier? Professor?! Oh god let him hear me please please please please...#

Charles had been sitting in his office, reviewing the application of a young girl whose family he’d gently encouraged to apply after learning of her manifestation. Signing the letter of acceptance, his brow creased as Angel’s projection reached him. #Angelica, I am hearing you quite well. You have obviously been paying attention in psionics.# He paused. The girl’s tone was slightly panicky, but it didn’t seem to be something related to her. #What seems to be the problem?#

Scrambling up and over the fence, she paused and thanked God that she'd gotten that right. In a rush, she tried to explain, #Professor, I was out with Garrison and Mr. Haller--who are like on the other side of the city because I was meeting with my dad who can't make it--and there's this huge fire. Sir, there are people trapped in the house and they can't get to them. The fire's too hot.# There was a pause as she slid down the other side of the fence, landing with an oof. #I'm...uh, going in. I think. But I'm really, really freaked out but I'm the only one who can stand the flames but I don't know where they are...help?# Angel winced. She hoped she wasn't going to get in trouble for not telling the proper authorities and, oh, running into a burning building.

Charles’ brow furrowed more deeply as he listened to Angel. Swiftly extending his thoughts, he picked up a cluster of panicked minds in the center of the fire. He simultaneously whispered reassuringly to the three people trapped inside while keeping contact with Angel and informing Haller and Garrison of the events.

#Angelica, it is imperative that you stay as calm as possible while you do this. I will be with you the whole time and I know that you are more than capable of handling this situation.# His voice was firm and supportive as he guided Angel. #Once you enter the building, go up the stairs and to the left. There are three individuals trapped inside, but they now know help is on its way.#

Calm, she could do calm. Angel found herself at the back door and wondered if that's where the fire had started since it just looked so...wild in there. Pausing, she shrugged out of her jacket. It was the only thing she was wearing that wasn't fire proof and she didn't need to scare them by wandering about, well, on fire. #Alright, sir,# she thought, staring into the fire. Her hands were shaking and she closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. It was like she was at a swim meet, poised to dive into the water.

Hands reached out and grabbed the wooden frame of the door, ignoring the feeling of the strange fire on her hands. "One, two, three...go..." A deep breath and then she jumped into the inferno.

Nothing ever goes smoothly, does it? As is proven when signs of fire and telepathic communcation abound.

Jim flicked his finger to send the pen back into his palm before replacing it on the desk and drew his cellphone out of his pocket just to check. No new messages or missed calls -- from anyone. He looked at the clock on the wall. They'd left Angel at least half an hour ago. "Um, have you gotten any calls? I thought Angel's dad was supposed to meet her twenty minutes ago."

"Nope." Garrison waved down the man passing his desk. "Hey Danny. Can you give these to Fred when you see him? Thanks." He pulled out his phone, but there were no missed calls either. "The kid has the attention span of a mayfly hooked on Starbucks. She likely got distracted by all the shiny cameras and forgot."

Garrison paused at the look on Haller's face. "Look, there's been no panic button, and Xavier has the big brain out today. If you're worried that's not enough, try calling her."

Jim nodded as he pulled up the contacts list. "Sorry. I may be having some problems getting around the fact that a few weeks ago we had a student bleeding in a gutter because his phone got crushed before he could send the signal." The phone rang a few times. He didn't want to know what ringtone Angel set for her teachers. This call, too, went right to voicemail. Jim shoved a hand through his hair and lowered the phone. "Okay, no answer. Although okay, it is Angel. I'm not to panic yet but I'm starting to see the road signs."

"You know, if you assume every time one of these kids drops out of sight that something horrible has happened to them, you going to drive yourself crazy," Kane paused. "-er."

He swung his coat back on. "Come on. I'm done here. Let's drop by the damn camera store and doublecheck that her dad picked her up. Just incase she decided to lie about her age and get her nipples pierced in the Village or something that will inspire Miss Munroe's shouty voice."

Fortunately the mental image summoned by Garrison's words was forced out of the way by an actual image as something through the far window caught Jim's eye. It was just barely visible at the angle the office faced, but hastily calculated coordinates on his mental map of the city added up to a depressing total.

"Hey, look," Jim said, voice completely flat, "a huge cloud of smoke."

"Oh god, she set fire to the city. I let her set fire to the city." Kane covered his eyes with his hand. "I'm definitely getting the shouty voice tonight."

Jim nodded, transfixed by the darkness on the horizon. "Yeah. I think we're definitely fired."

Enough was enough. Jim's brand of telepathy wasn't good enough to find Angel in a city full of people, let alone panicking ones, but someone else's was. The telepath had begun reaching out before Garrison had even finished speaking. It was unnecessary. Jim took his first steps down the old path, walked countless times before, only to find himself met halfway.

#Gentlemen, as I believe you are already aware, there is a rather large fire across town.# Charles raised an eyebrow as he picked up a stray thought, a tinge of amusement entering his mental voice. #No, your young charge did not initiate the blaze, though she is rather in the thick of things. Perhaps you should join her?# The last thought came with the address and a general map of Angel’s whereabouts.

Charles' attention withdrew to those more in need. However, he'd left the figurative door open in a way that meant little for Garrison but a lot for Jim. With his automatic request followed by an equally automatic assent, the telepath followed the line cast by the professor's power to Angel's mind. Which was . . . in fire.

Jim finally pulled his eyes away from the window to exchange a look with the other man.

"I wonder what it's like working at a school where the four seasons aren't broken into mind-control, elder gods, disappearances and generalized peril," he said.

"The fucking narcotics squad in British Columbia was easier than this." Kane grabbed his jacket and started towards the door. "Come on. I can't put out fires with my bare hands. Lets see if we can get the kid home in one piece, shall we?"

Smart people run away from fires. Idiots, firefighters and fire resistant little girls run into them. Good thing for the people trapped inside.

The problem Angel hadn't counted on was sight or, well, the lack of. Smoke filled the air and where smoke didn't obscure her sight, the flames did. The kitchen was the room on the other side of the back door and she carefully made her way through the debris, wincing at the sound of the building creaking and moaning around her. That really didn't bode well for her but it was worse for the others trapped in there. Thankfully, with the Professor guiding her, she soon came out into what looked like a dining room.

She squinted, trying to spot someone...and then she did. The two residents and one firefighter were huddled in a corner of the room and it looked like something had fallen on them. Or at least on one of them.

That spurred her into action, especially when she heard a faint "Mom! Look!".

"Um, stay put, I'll come to you!" Angel shouted above the noise, ignoring the gasps as she walked right through the fire to get them. An older woman and what had to be her teenage daughter--'Oh my God, she's my age...'--were kneeling as low as they could on the floor. Her gaze flickered to the firefighter and she realized that a beam had fallen, trapping his leg. "Oh God. I need to get you guys out..."

Paul Camp had had better days. The fire had been a bad one from the start, but he'd seen worse - it had been pure lousy luck part of the roof had come down as he'd been trying to get the woman and her daughter out. And then that voice in his head, telling him help was on the way... He still wasn't sure he wasn't going crazy, only the woman had apparently 'heard' it too.

Sweat sheened his face as he took in the young girl walking through the flames. A less pragmatic person would have thought her an angel, a spirit of the flames - Paul knew she had to be a mutant, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. He'd been through too many rescue scenes that had been the result of damage caused by mutants, like the Salem Center mall a couple of years ago. Then the girl, huddled between him and the mom, covered with a blanket choked out a weak cough, beginning to slump against him. No time - they were rapidly running out of breathable air, and the floor was going to give any minute.

"The woman and her daughter first, kid," he grated, barely making himself heard through the breathing apparatus. "Don't worry about me."

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Angel said, reaching out a hand to the girl. The mom clutched her daughter closer to her for a second and then nodded, helping her to haul her up off the floor. A crashing noise came from the kitchen and then all jumped. "Oh...crap."

Turning around, she scanned the rest of the room. The front door was blocked and the girl was too worn out to go up the stairs closest to them. Angel squinted suddenly and clapped her hands. A window was on the other side of the room, thankfully relatively free of debris for the moment. "Come on, we'll take you guys out the window!"

"Can't," the older woman coughed. "It's been jammed for years."

No time to think, or contemplate. There was only time for a look of apology and a "Stand back!" Turning back to the window, Angel concentrated, ignoring everyone else as the sheen of blue flames wrapped around her body. She drew it up from the center, forcing it to flow through her veins and a few seconds later a fireball shot out from her hands, slamming into the window with enough force to blow a hole through it and the surrounding wall.

Everyone was staring but there was no time because she'd just added more fire to the fiery room. Reaching out, ignoring how badly her hands were shaking, she grabbed for them and helped them to the window. "Go! Everyone's out at front!" And when the two stumbled from the window, gasping at the fresh air outside as they called for help, she turned back.

Approaching rush hour traffic, combined with traffic snarls from the fire and groups of people trying to figure out what's going on is not helpful when trying to make your way through a crowd. Thankfully, and unfortunately for Haller, Garrison's inventive.

"The Blackbird's just about the most unsubtle thing ever," Jim said over the blare of a horn that was being so thoughtfully being pounded on by the car next to them to make telepathically monitoring the situation across town with Charles a fun experience, "but we've never had a mission delayed by traffic."

"Not even any point putting on the cherry." Garrison referred to the police light stashed under the seat. "The cops aren't moving in this." He scowled at the traffic before finally pulling over the car to the side of the road. "We'll be an hour this way. I hope you didn't choose this week to give up jogging, because I can run very fast."

Jim unbuckled his seatbelt and looked at the state of the street. The giant cloud of smoke and ash blotting out the sun wasn't exactly inconspicuous. The bodies on the sidewalks were almost as solid as the cars, and going to get thicker the closer they got to the fire. At least half of them were standing around on their cellphones giving or receiving live reports as they stared at the sky, unmoved by unimportant details like bicycle messengers, motorists, or small children escaping their parents' custody and cracking their heads open on a mailbox three feet away. "Have you ever actually tried to get through a New York mob before?" he asked the Canadian.

"No, but I can shove them out of the way easier than I can do the cars." Garrison paused, looking around at the crowds. The police were trying to unsnarl the traffic jam, and in the midst of it, the pedestrians had blocked up the sidewalks and spilled into the streets, turning the situation even more chaotic. He couldn't push through them all, and the high road would bring undue notice. How was he-

Garrison paused, and a great, evil and 'extremely bad for Haller' grin spread over his face. Well, there was one thing that could get through the crowd, he thought, walking out into the street and pulling out his FBI badge and identification. "Excuse officer! Officer, yeah, you. This is going to sound extremely odd, but it's very important." Garrison said, holding up the badge to the mounted police man. "I need to borrow your horse."

For one instant the officer and the telepath wore equal expressions of total nonplussedness.

"Um," Jim said as the rider recovered from his surprise enough to nod curtly and dismount before handing Garrison the reins, "did you just steal a horse?"

"No. Stealing means theft, which is the unlawful acquisition of goods belonging to someone else. I am borrowing the horse from the over worked and under appreciated New York City Police Department, who are always keen to help the FBI in their work." Garrison put a foot in the stirrup and swung himself up with obvious practice. "Now get up here behind me."

When your first mission together had involved hitting things with plastic swords there wasn't really much of a yardstick set for insane ideas. Jim awkwardly slid one foot into the stirrup, grabbed the saddle and heaved himself up behind Garrison. "Thanks, that touched me. At least my girlfriend lets me take her to dinner first."

"Yeah, give me the excuse to let you 'fall off' at the first jump." Garrison pulled on the reins, forcing the horse into a tight circle as he considered the streets. With a squeeze of his legs, the horse started down the street, weaving between the cars. Unlike for a person, the approach of a massive four hooved beast encouraged people to get out of the way quickly, and they were able to break out of the main cluster with a certain amount of speed.

"I'm going to cut through Central Park. That should about get us on the same block as the fire. Hold on!" Kane called over his shoulder. Haller could see the low wall that surrounded the park up ahead, and could feel the horse beginning to accelerate underneath him.

The first thing Jim had registered was the fact the horse's gait had actually gotten smoother with speed. This momentary relief was followed almost immediately by something considerably less relieved when the horse launched itself into the air.

It wasn't a high wall, which didn't help the fact that Jim's stomach suddenly felt like it had become completely unanchored. Much like the rest of him, which suddenly had no anchor but Garrison.

The horse's hooves struck the dirt with four clops so solid they almost sounded like two. Garrison had risen in the saddle, his knees taking the force of impact. Jim, who had no stirrups and even less experience with the physics of equestrianism, did not. Something which was only made increasingly more clear by the fact that the horse went right from the landing to another spine-jarring trot. It raced on without even breaking stride.

"Okay," Jim managed from the vicinity of his coworker's back as he tried to maintain psychic contact around a lower body trying to go into one big spasm, "that was just payback."

"No, payback would be a lot more painful. This is expediency." Garrison sawed the reins as the horse tried to angle away from the small thicket, which Kane had decided to go through. Fortunately, the mounted division of the NYPD trained their mounts well, and the big chestnut responded quickly, crashing through the tree cover without hesitation.

"What are we going to do when we get there? I can get Angel out, but I'll need someone who can either clear a path or at least moderate the fire around me when I do that. Doesn't one of your hitchhikers have some kind of power like that?"

Jim shook his head. "It doesn't work like that. It's situational. Being able to choose defeats the classification of a disorder. At least the stage I'm in."

"So you're saying the horse is going to be more useful against the burning building than you are." The horse finally cleared the park, hooves ringing off of concrete again as they crossed the street and honed in on the fire scene.

"I don't know." Jim shifted his grip around the other man's waist, unsure whether he was just adapting to the horse's gait or his lower half had finally just gone numb. "DID's a survival mechanism. Danger and aggression from the external, stress, fear and anger from the internal -- those are triggers. And necessity. Necessity's a big one. I'm whatever I need to be. I'm still in reassessment to figure out what decides what that is."

"What about if I toss you into the burning building? Should that count?" Today was just getting better and better.

"Probably, but it's still spinning the wheel. For all I know Cyndi's idea of help will be making the pretty fire prettier. The hazard of working with a disability is that you have to find ways around it. We expect the professor to scan for something in Nigeria, but not to take the stairs." The air smoky -- they could smell burning carbon. Jim watched the people on the street around him while his mind remained fix on the girl. "Two people are out -- Angel's helping a firefighter. They're going for the roof. She can fly . . . never with a passenger."

"So what other options do we have here?" Garrison slowed as they passed a knot of people.

Jim looked at the crowd. Even with the horse helping there was only so much headway they could make in the throng of onlookers. They only had a few options, and none of them good -- nothing they could do was going to help Angel if they couldn't get to her.

Charles was still watching her . . .

"Hit me," Jim said.

Haller's head snapped back at the impact of Garrison's fist. The Canadian hadn't even hesitated, and reached back to stop Haller from collapsing off the back of the horse. "Alright, Pookaroo, which one of you is in there now? I can keep hitting."

"Like that you didn't even bother asking why. Violence and complete apathy made for just the right trigger combination." The person who was no longer Jim regained his balance, leaning forward to resettle his grip on Garrison. The throb in his cheekbone was set aside, automatically deprioritized. David's protective instincts had brought him close to the surface. One extra nudge had been all the excuse he'd needed. Jack's grey eyes narrowed on the crowd. "So clear a path, huh?"

"No. You're going to keep an eye on that building and if it starts falling, you're going to catch it with your brain. Otherwise, you're going to keep a watch for falling walls and potential dangers that can hurt our fireproof charge who, you know, isn't impact proof."

"That's a plan." There was no reason to argue. He had few questions about his own skill-level. Regardless of the effort Jean had been putting forth towards control gentle nudges weren't exactly his nature, and he had little interest in dealing with the inevitable fallout from innocent bystanders being thrown into buildings. Picking his battles wasn't hard at all when there was a child involved. Seeing the telepath unceremoniously backhanded in the process was just a bonus.

"Get me, lose the telepathy," Jack said as they trotted on, "but it's not likely the gimp's all-seeing eye will be choosing now to blink. She's safe. Safe as you get in the heart of a raging inferno, that is."

"Good. Now let's go get her. Oh, and I think it would be best if you didn't hold on so tightly." Kane urged the horse forward again. "We look like an advertising gimmick for a Village People concert."

"Can't say my masculinity's too threatened after having seen you in the Mountie getup."

"If I hit you again, do I get another personality?"

One person left and the place is coming down around Angel's ears. Only way to go is up but it's going to take both of them to make it through this.

Despite himself, Paul drew back a little as the kid turned to him. Just a little slip of a thing, but he'd just seen her shoot a fireball out of her hands. The movement jarred the leg trapped under the roof beam, and he winced. "Kid, I don't know what you've got planned, but you'd better do it soon," he half-growled, pain making him terse. "You might be able to survive a burning building crashing down on you, but us regular Joes can't. And my wife'll kill me if anything happens to me."

"Um, yeah, plans. Plans are good." Hurrying over, she knelt next to him, taking in what was trapping him, ignoring the feeling of guilt that she got when she saw him flinch away from her. Not important. The beam, however, was. It was wood with metal studs and she might be able to get it off him if there was less of it. Hands were still shaking as she reached for the beam. If she could burn through it, she could get it off of him. But she had to work fast. Leaning against it, she concentrated, forcing the fire out again. Had to work fast but not, well, set him on fire.

It took a few minutes to burn away at the end of the beam but with a smoldering crack, it fell off. "Yes!" Looking back at the man, she gave him a weak grin. "I'm gonna push this off but if you can get any leverage ta help, that would be really awesome." She counted to three again and started to shove, grunting as she felt it move under her hands.

He heard of fighting fire with fire, but this was ridiculous... Nonetheless, he pushed at the beam with her, gritting his teeth as it dragged over his leg. Between them, they managed to move it enough to let him slide his leg out from under, gasping at the sudden pain. Broken, by the feel. Godammit.

"...oh man, I think that was going to be the easy part." A sudden, loud crash behind her made her scream, instinctively covering her head. When nothing hit her, she looked up and back...and saw that the hole she'd created had been filled in with bits of wall and more fire. "Oh, oh no." She reached for him, her eyes wide with near panic. "Come on, we need to go...up, we need to go up!" The stairs near them were relatively free of debris and fire so far. The longer they waited, the less chance either of them were getting out of there in once piece. And despite his crack about her surviving the falling house, she really didn't know how much the fire shield could take and she wasn't about to test it.

Paul levered himself up, using the wall to brace himself. "Easy, kid. I'm not exactly mobile here," he said, voice taking on a calm, reassuring tone. Underneath the blue flames and the fireballs, she was just a scared kid, he was realising. "Can you let me lean on you without burning me? I'm gonna need a helping hand."

As soon as he asked, the blue flames disappeared. Angel gave him a crooked grin, sliding in next to him so she could put his arm around her shoulder. "This totally reminds me of this time my friend broke his leg on a camping trip," she remarked as the edged towards the stairs. Talking helped put the panic to the side, at least for a little while. "Well, except there were no flames. Or burning buildings. And I wasn't fire proof back then. But yeah, nearly the same..."

"Nearly," he agreed, a slight grin appearing despite himself. He tried to not lean on her too much - she really wasn't that big and he had the added weight of equipment as well as his rather (as his wife described him) buff self. " The stairs creaked ominously as they reached them and he grabbed the bannister to help support himself. "Keep to the edges of the steps, they'll be more stable," he instructed. "I just hope you've got a way off the roof, though, kid. Our ladders won't reach." And this was getting surreal - he couldn't keep calling her 'kid' like this. "You got a name, kid?"

Edges were good, edges were your friend. Name? Oh...yeah, that thing. "It's Angel. Well, Angelica but I only get called that when I'm really in trouble." Swimming had kept her fit and in shape but he was heavy. Still, if they stopped now, there was no getting out. Gritting her teeth, she got a better grip as they went up the stairs. "What about you?"

"Paul. Pleased to meet you, Angel." He snorted. One of the weirder conversations of his life. "My buddies are so not going to let me live down the fact my ass was saved by a little girl called Angel." The staircase seemed to be growing longer, but he kept hauling himself along stubbornly. "You do this sort of thing often, Angel?"

"You want the truth?" Looked like there was one more flight of stairs and then a door, which had to lead them to the roof. "First time for me, really. I was just in town, you know? Never run into a burning building before. Oh thank God..." They'd reached the final landing and then the door. "Almost there."

"Not bad for a beginner," he told her, wincing as he jostled the leg again. "Hell of a brave thing to do, run into a building like this. Being flame proof helps, though." His breath was coming a bit shorter with the effort of climbing and his oxygen tank starting to run low. "Maybe... you should think... about this as a career?"

Angel gave a ragged laugh as she shoved the door open, positioning herself first in case there was fire on the other side. Downside of her powers was that she couldn't feel if the door was hot, it all felt normal to her. But there was nothing but smoke from the other side and they stumbled out of the door, nearly falling to the ground since Paul didn't have the railing to hold onto anymore.

There was a light touch in her mind, reminding her that they didn't have much time. "So, yeah, plan to get you off the roof?" Angel looked up at Paul and swallowed. "I can fly, my powers give me that ability. I just never done a flight with a passenger before and we'll have to make it quick since, you know, flames and whoosh and all." She pointed to the next building over. An alley ran in between them, meaning the fire hadn't spread over there and the men on the ground were doing their best to ensure that didn't happen. "There, I can get you there though I can't promise a good landing. I really am new to all of this, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, Angel. If you hadn't tried, I'd be dead and my kids would be without a dad. Because of you, they get to have a grumpy dad with a broken leg." He took a breath, bracing himself for what was to come. "I'll tell you one thing, Angel. I've never been exactly pro-mutant - I've seen too much damage cause by 'em. But you just might change my mind on the subject. Now, do whatever it is you need to do to get us out of here." The smile was almost hidden by the breathing apparatus, but there was a certain crinkling around his light blue eyes. "I know how to take a fall. Just get us to the other roof."

A bright grin came through on her face, despite the muck, the dust and the fear she still had. Angel squeezed his arm gently before getting him to stand near the wall, in case he fell. He was heavy and he was wearing incredibly heavy equipment, she was going to need a running start. Standing behind him, so that when she grabbed him it was his back to her flames and not his face, she took a deep breath.

In a few seconds, with the fire shield around her bright, she was taking a few steps and then off the roof, into the air. There was temptation to close her eyes right as she impacted Paul but she forced them open, knowing she needed to see where she was going. Flying them into a wall would totally defeat the purpose of the rescue. She managed to hook her arms under his and forced the thrust up even more and soon they were both airborne. It was hard but...he wasn't as heavy as he should have been which was an interesting question for later.

The flight was far from pretty and Angel struggled to remain in the air with the extra weight. Right as her grip loosened, they were above the roof to the other building and she let go, letting him fall. As for herself, carrying Paul had thrown her off and she went down hard, bouncing head over heels several times before coming to rest at the other end of the roof. Not hurt thanks to the shield, she just laid there for a few moments, willing the shakes to go away.

Paul landed a bit better than Angel, taking as much of the impact as he could on the unhurt leg and crumpling sideways to that side. Luckily the heavy fireman's coat absorbed some of the shock, but a sharp cry of pain still escaped him as he landed. His vision whiting out for a moment, he rode the pain out and then reached for the straps of the mask, unbuckling the heavy face plate and pulling it and his helmet off. The air was still heated and heavy with smoke over here, but it was air. Glancing over, he saw Angel lying on the roof a little ways away. "Kid, you all right?" he called, suddenly worried - she'd taken quite the spill. "Angel?"

"I'm good," she answered, rolling over and pushing herself up onto her feet. Angel suddenly realized how tired she was but she hurried to his side nonetheless. "Shielding absorbed the impact, still it was like being in a hamster roll ball." Biting her lip, she got a good look at him. The training from Red X was telling her that there wasn't much she could do and from the sounds of it, his coworkers were on their way up. And they weren't the only ones on their way, either, according to the Professor. "Hey, I'm sorry to cut and run but, uh...my ride is here." Angel grinned and reached down to make him more comfortable. "You going to be okay?"

"I think I will be." His radio crackled into life, voices asking anxiously for a status update. "I'll be fine - my buddies are on their way up here." Without the breathing apparatus, his face was nondescript, sweat sticking sandy hair to his forehead, eyes startlingly light in his soot-streaked face. "And I'm guessing you didn't exactly ask permission for the hero thing, so you'd best get yourself gone." He smiled a little at her. "If you get a chance sometime, come by the station, ask for Paul Camp. I'll buy you a milkshake or something."

Angel laughed at that and impulsively leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek. "It's a deal. And you're so, so right about the not asking permission thing. Oh man, I hope I don't get grounded..." Another check to make sure he was okay and then she was off, scuttling towards the edge of the roof. She didn't think she could sustain flight for very long but just enough to get her to another alley and then she'd meet up with Garrison and Mr. H on foot. Angel looked back and gave a quick wave before making her way back to her teachers.

And finally, Haller, Garrison, Angel...and a friend...finally meet up. It's been a surreal day.

On foot now, Angel spotted the end of the alley and headed towards it, pushing off on the wall next to her for support. She hadn't been hurt but she'd used a lot of energy, more than she had before and she was exhausted. And maybe a teeny tiny little bit in shock. Blinking soot out of her eyes, she stuck her head out and looked around for her teachers. And she was going to be so very, very happy to see them again.

The clop-clop of hooves on the concrete was the last thing she expected to hear as the big chestnut came around the corner. Garrison was sitting comfortably in the saddle, with Haller more awkwardly hanging on behind him. The Canadian nudged the horse forward, until it's massive head was sniffing at her hair, where she stood stunned.

"We heard that you need a ride."

"He's been waiting to use that one for a good ten minutes," Jack said from his seat behind the other man. His eyes flicked over Angel in quick assessment. She was flushed and mussed and covered in soot, but apparently none the worse for wear. Good. "Glad to see you made it without the cavalry. You all right?"

"I...horse...and...horse." Angel leaned against the brick wall and debated bursting into tears. Her entire body was shaking now, and her stomach rumbling like no one else's business. But the horse--the cavalry as it was--added an element of absurdity to the whole thing. She slide down to the ground and started laughing. A bit hysterically but it was better than tears she thought. "I just ran into a burning building and oh my God, I did property damage I'm so getting grounded for that. But I saved people but there was the whole running in there without asking and I'm just now realizing I could have gotten hurt and..."

She swallowed heavily, still giggling. "I think I'm going to throw up."