CHAPTER 54 – COLD REFLECTIONS
The mansion glowed with Christmas cheer. Lights twinkled across the tree, and Nightcrawler perched upside down on the chandelier, tail swinging as he hung another ornament. Colossus laughed deeply as he lifted Thunderbird with one arm so he could pin a paper star to the wall.
Banshee strummed a few Irish tunes on an old guitar. Moira clapped along, her voice warm in the room filled with firelight. Sunfire lingered by the window, sipping wine with a distant gaze.
Logan leaned against the doorframe, cigar already lit. He watched the others. Jean was radiant, her smile lighting Scott's face more than the tree lights ever could. Logan felt something twist in his gut.
Banshee strummed one last note and stood. "Well then, it's Christmas night. Moira and I'll be headin' out for a walk into town. Some air will do us good."
Nightcrawler somersaulted down and grinned. "Ja, and I will go exploring the city lights. They say New York is most beautiful at Christmas!"
Thunderbird stretched. "I'll check out the streets too. Don't wait up for me."
Colossus spoke softly. "Perhaps I will join you, Kurt. I want to see the decorations."
Jean glanced at Scott. "A quiet dinner, just the two of us?"
Scott nodded. "Sounds perfect."
The group began pulling on coats, laughing, scattering into the cold night.
Logan stayed behind for a moment, then muttered, "Hell with this," and slipped out alone.
Snow crunched under his boots as he walked, cigar glowing faintly in the wind. The city sounds carried from far off, but here the night was quiet.
He reached a bridge, leaned against the railing, and stared into the black river below. His reflection wavered in the water. The lines of his face blurred… and then shifted.
Jean's face stared back at him. Her eyes glowed, her lips moving in silence.
Logan's heart kicked in his chest.
'No. Not real. Not her. Get a grip, old man.'
He shook his head hard. The reflection snapped back to his own scarred face. Smoke trailed from his mouth.
"What the hell's with me?" he growled, gripping the railing until the metal creaked. The water flowed on, indifferent.
---
The restaurant was alive with soft music and crystal light. Waiters glided between tables, carrying trays heavy with champagne and roast duck. Jean sat across from Scott, her hands folded neatly around a glass.
"You're smiling more tonight," she teased.
Scott adjusted his glasses and let out a low chuckle. "Guess I don't have to be the leader for a few hours. Just me."
Jean leaned closer, her voice gentle. "That's the you I like best."
They ate, they laughed quietly, the world outside forgotten. For the first time in weeks, Scott's posture eased, his guard lowered.
When dessert arrived, Jean tilted her head, her green eyes fixed on him. "You don't have to overthink this," she whispered.
Scott blinked. "Overthink what?"
She smiled and leaned across the table. Their lips touched.
The kiss lingered—soft, deep, the kind that promised more than words could.
Then the windows EXPLODED.
Glass rained across the tables. Diners screamed. The floor trembled as two massive shadows loomed outside.
Through the wreckage stepped giants of steel—Sentinels.
"TARGETS IDENTIFIED. MUTANTS DETECTED. NEUTRALIZATION SEQUENCE ENGAGED."
Chandeliers shattered as the machines stomped inside, towering over the terrified crowd.
Scott pulled Jean down behind the table. "Stay low!" His voice was sharp, already commander again.
Jean's eyes burned. "I'm not hiding. I'm with you."
The Sentinels advanced, crushing tables under their weight. One raised a hand, energy gathering in its palm.
Scott and Jean stood together, the room in chaos around them, the shadow of death falling across their bodies.