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From: Jenn the Ice Raptoress <raptor@eagle.ptialaska.net>
Newsgroups: alt.comics.fan-fiction
Subject: STORY:MAGNETO Steel Aurora 1/2 [SEX]
Date: Tue, 23 Sep 1997 09:21:14 -0800
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 WARNING!  Part Two of _Steel Aurora_ contains a scene of gratuitous
sex.  If reading this sort of thing is offensive to you, then for
Heaven's Sake, don't.

 DISCLAIMER: Magneto, X-Men, Avalon, Acolytes and other related material
is copyright Marvel Entertainment Group Inc.  References to the _Mutant
Empire_ trilogy, including the quote used from said trilogy, are
copyright Christopher Golden and Marvel as well.  I am making no profit
off of this story and it is intended for entertainment purposes only.
The characters of Mary Denning and Tara Samuels (aka Harmony) are my own
creations and are therefore copyright me.

 NOTE: The bulk of _Steel Aurora_ takes place after the events depicted
in the _Mutant Empire_ trilogy, by Christopher Golden, and before the
events depicted in the _Fatal Attractions_ story arc.  I am also
operating under the assumption that Magneto would have recruited more
mutants than just his core group of Acolytes to Avalon, since it was a
rather large space station, and I assumed they would need people to run
it.


STEEL AURORA (by Jenn the Ice Raptoress)
Part One


 I suppose that, like millions of other people, I had never really given
much thought to mutants.  Of course I was aware that they existed, it is
almost impossible to pick up a newspaper or turn on CNN without hearing
something about them.  I just had never really considered mutants to be
anything worth fussing about.  To me, they were just people.  Different
maybe, but still just people like everyone else.  I had no idea that,
for a single night, I would find myself totally immersed in the dream of
one of the most powerful mutants known.  Nor could I have imagined how
that dream was to affect my life.

  Interior Alaska is not exactly crawling with mutants.  Fairbanks is
about as far away from the real world as you can get, which was a good
part of the reason why I came up here from the States in the first
place.  I had always wanted to just live quietly, someplace where I felt
comfortable, just like most mutants I suppose.  There were some in the
state, of course, everyone knew it.  But it's a big state, and it is one
that particularly lends itself to the fostering of privacy.  As long as
the mutants aren't making trouble, then no one here sees much point in
pressing the issue.  Myself, I didn't have an opinion one way or the
other.  Everyone has the right to try and make a life for themselves as
far as I'm concerned.  I had always tried my best not to be judgmental,
or to chose sides one way or another.

 I came to Alaska from the Lower 48 when I was young, trying to make my
own way just like any other teenage hotshot.  I loved the place
immediately.  The wild open spaces were fresh and inviting, and I
delighted in the sheer natural intensity.  It was the type of place I
had always dreamed of living and I have never quite gotten over the
disbelief that I am actually here.  It pains me to see people take
things like the breathtaking view of mountains in the morning for
granted.  Even after having lived up here for over ten years, the sight
of the aurora borealis filling the sky can still make me stop in my
tracks with awe.  I tend to see beauty in everything, because . . .
well, because everything is beautiful.  I hope I never stop feeling that
way.  Sometimes I think that to lose that wonder would be to die inside.

 When I moved up, I worked hard and went to college here in Fairbanks
for a few years, majoring in Natural Sciences.  I love all science, but
my true passion was geology.  Rocks, crystals, the shape and history of
the land, there was nothing I enjoyed learning about more.  Though I
never actually completed my degree, I was more than happy to open a
small rock shop on the edge of town.  It was in just the right spot off
the highway to attract tourists in the summer.  Yes, Interior Alaska is
crawling with tourists when the weather is nice.  It is occasionally
annoying to have strangers tromping all over our spectacular scenery,
but tourism is Fairbank's lifeblood.  That and the Pipeline, of course,
but the opening of that subject is a whole different Pandora's box.

 My little place is more than just a rock shop.  I also sell books and
music, artwork done by some local talent, and even some sci-fi
memorabilia.  It's a nice place, with a good atmosphere.  The tourists
come in looking for pieces of Alaska they can take home with them, and
they pretty much keep me in business.  For a thirty-ish female in a land
that traditionally attracts men, I do very well for myself.  I keep the
place open full time from May to December, and part time for the rest of
the year.  After Christmas, things slow down to a snail's pace in the
Interior, and I like that just fine.  Besides still being an avid
scholar of the sciences, I have other hobbies too, not the least of
which was writing.  I fancy myself a sci-fi novelist, not that I've yet
to publish anything, but who knows what the future has in store?  I've
learned that it is usually not what you would expect.

 In the off season, some of the local folks come in for the books and
music, or just to chat.  I try to make it a place where they can feel
comfortable doing so, there's snug old couches and a TV, and the place
is filled with as many plants as I can keep alive.

 It was, in fact, the plants that first led me to believe that my only
employee was probably a mutant.  I remember that when she first came in
to interview for the job, I had to stop myself from telling her she was
hired before I even told her my name.  I took such an instant liking to
her and her soft gentle mannerisms.

 Her name was Tara Samuels.   Like so many of the local people in the
Interior, she was from native stock, probably Athabascan, and her
countenance showed many of the features characteristic of her people.
She was very pretty, with a round wide face rimmed with long black
hair.  Unlike most of the native population, however, her eyes were a
brilliant green, dazzling set against her coloring.  She was shy and
quiet, and needed the job badly.  She was barely sixteen, had no family
and was living at a local boarding house.  Unfortunately, situations
like that are frequent up here.  I'll be the first to admit that Alaska
is not perfect and has more than its fair share of domestic and social
problems.  These are things that need tending to, along with other
issues like gay and mutant rights.  Unfortunately, in Alaska, "privacy"
is often a synonym for "blind eye."


 Because of her looks, Tara tended to attract much attention from some
of the local high school boys, a small group of which would come into
the store now and then to ask her out.  She always said no, and I could
see that she was a bit frightened of the attention.  Given her
situation, I suspected abuse in her upbringing.  I did my best to be a
supportive friend to Tara, rather than just her boss, and she told me
that she appreciated it.  In the year or so that she worked for me, I
began to look at her as a little sister, or even a daughter after a
fashion.

 It did not take me that long to suspect she was a mutant, however.
There was just something about her, a soft specialness, that tipped me
off to her abilities.  When working in the store, she would often hum or
sing in soft dreaminess.  When she did, and it is still hard to explain,
everything just seemed . . . right.  I noticed the plants first.  When
Tara was around, they perked with health, all their leaves were shiny
and green, and they thrived.  She took a week vacation once to go hiking
in Denali Park, and while she was away, the poor plants pined.  They
looked shabby and desolate.

 Then I noticed the rocks and crystals.  Call me crazy, but even they
seemed happier when she was around.  When Tara hummed her soft melodies,
the very air in the store seemed content and right.  Customers would
comment on it to me.  "Your store is just so friendly," they would say.
Everything was as it should be when Tara was around.

 It made me really start to wonder why some people seemed to think the
worst of all mutants.  Certainly it was always the "bad" mutants that
were in the headlines, or the "evil" mutants who were top story on the
news.  But I had also heard of other mutants, those who used their
abilities for the peaceful advancement of their kind.  Why did it seem
the public was so quick to ignore them?  I could have never imagined
Tara using her powers, nebulous as they were, for anything other than
making plants grow and making the air feel right.  She certainly was not
evil, and her gentle nature made the thought of her being a threat to
humanity completely laughable.  Of course, I suppose that is the way
things have always been, the majority tends to suppress the minority, no
matter how trivial the differences.  Sometimes it really pains me to
think how far our species still has to go.

 But, out of respect for her privacy, I said nothing to Tara about my
suspicions of her being born with that little something extra.  I knew
that if she wanted to say anything, she would.  She was not a dim girl,
it was pretty likely that she was aware that I knew.  It was a
comfortable existence for both of us.

 Then, it all began to change.  It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, or a
good thing.  It just was.

 The store had been particularly quiet that day, but I wasn't at all
worried.  In the early part of the summer, it was hard to tell just how
business was going to go.  The tourists usually start arriving late in
May, and it was about a week or so into that month, so things were still
slow.  Late afternoon found me in the back room, having a can of pop and
playing Mah Jong on the computer, even though I had told myself I was
going to finish the chapter I had been working on.  Tara was reading a
book in the shop, sitting behind the counter.  The TV was on, I could
hear it vaguely, but I was paying no attention to it.  It was the type
of day when I didn't really want to pay attention, or deal with anything
I didn't have to.  I knew Tara felt the same way, so I was a bit
surprised when she called to me, her quiet voice sounding rather
frightened and shaky.

 "Miss Denning?" her voice wavered uncertainly.  I wondered to myself if
I was ever going to be able to get her to call me by my first name,
Mary.  I had been working on her for over a year, with little headway.

 "Miss Denning?  You might want to come and see this."

 I put my game on pause and, picking up my can of Squirt, joined her in
the store.  She was no longer reading, but was staring at the flickering
TV screen with nervous emerald eyes.  I looked to see what had so
captured her attention, and within minutes I was feeling just as Tara
looked.

 CNN was reporting on a crisis developing in Manhattan.  Apparently, the
entire island had been taken over by mutants, mutants who were known to
be criminals and fugitives.  Footage flashed of gigantic robotic
Sentinels standing guard over the tunnels and bridges that led into the
city.  Evidently, the entire plan had been masterminded by the mutant
known as Magneto.

 I knew of Magneto, from the news and social-political classes I had
taken.  I doubted that there was anyone in most of the world that had
not heard of Magneto.  The Master of Magnetism.  The Mad Mutant.  I knew
of his reputation and of some of his deeds.  I had read of his
appearance before the World Court, and I knew that he had more than once
put the peoples of many countries, as well as the entire world, in
severe jeopardy.  I had even seen pictures of the man, wearing his
familiar costume and helmet.  I knew that I should have been shocked and
terrified by this, his latest plot for domination.

 But nothing that I had ever seen or read about Magneto prepared me for
what I was about to see.

 The man whose name, according to CNN, had once been Erik Magnus
Lehnsherr, stood before the entire world and quoted Robert Frost.  He
spoke with a savage passion of the failings of humankind to embrace
their mutant brothers.  He declared his desire to protect his people,
and he decreed that Manhattan Island now belonged to those people, to
the mutants.  Humans could either leave peacefully or stay, content to
live under his law.  He called it the Mutant Empire.

 I hardly heard the words the man said, for I could not take my eyes off
of him.

 I had never seen anyone with such presence, such natural power.  His
face was a fascinating mixture of severity and serenity.  He knew that
what he was doing was right, he was absolutely convinced of it, and his
determination to make his vision a reality could literally be felt
through the television screen.  I could not quite see his eyes, for
their surreal white glow was mostly obscured by the blood-red helmet he
wore to shut himself away from everything around him.  From beneath the
helmet peeped soft tendrils of silver white hair.

 He wore mostly red, save for a rich purple cape and gloves.  He stood
with the rigidness of a marble god, well defined muscular chest barely
moving even with his breathing.  Around him the very air seemed
electrified.  It was as if he were restraining himself, barely able to
contain his fortitude and indomitable will.  He was in charge, there
would be no mistake, there would be no opposition.  Hand clenched in a
firm fist, he told the entire world exactly what was going to happen

 "Earth will be at peace," he said, his rich baritone voice steady and
intense, "or it will be destroyed.  That is my promise to you."

 I was enthralled.  Good Lord, the man was magnificent.

 When he left the screen, stepping away from the cameras with a brisk
swirl of purple cape and followed dutifully by his Acolytes, I found my
breath again.  I almost felt disappointed that he was no longer in front
of me, telling me in no uncertain terms what was to come.  CNN exploded
into a frenzy of reporting, pictures flashing from the Sentinels to file
footage of the Acolytes.  I stared blankly as journalists fell all over
themselves trying to get the news to the world.

 "Oh my God," Tara whispered beside me.  I looked at her, saw how her
fragile body trembled.  She was terrified.

 Why wasn't I?

 "It will be all right, Tara," I assured.  She looked at me, her cat
eyes shining with the need for reassurance.

 We closed the shop.  It was pretty doubtful we were going to be getting
any business, but we had no desire to deal with it even if it were to
come.  I took Tara home with me, which was not unusual, she often stayed
out at my place when things were unsettled or tense at the boarding
house.  As we rattled along the road in my ancient and dying pick-up,
neither of us said a word, each wrapped in our own thoughts.  I could
almost deduce what Tara was thinking without her telling me anyway.
Magneto had welcomed all mutants to his Empire, and that included her.
I wondered if she would go, I could sense by her silence that she was
weighing her options.  Unfortunately, I had my doubts that Manhattan
would remain a Haven for long, there was no way that the United States
Government would tolerate who they considered to be a terrorist
controlling the most powerful city of the country.

 It was almost a sad thought.  How bad would it be, I wondered, if we
just let Magneto have the city?  I had no doubt, just from looking at
the man, that he could pull it off, that he could force his vision to
become a reality.  Would it really be so horrible to let the mutants
have something of their own to hold onto?  Of course, that would mean a
further segregation of _Homo sapiens_ from _Homo superior_.  Mutants
with their own city presented a separatist and tyrannical picture to the
rest of the world.

 But hadn't Magneto said, humans would also be welcome in his Haven?
Hadn't he said that the city would serve as a template for world peace?

 I shook my head as I forced the stubborn steering of my pick-up to turn
us onto the proper road.  I lived out of town, in an area known as
Goldstream.  It was a valley where much of the Gold Rush had its center
in the early pioneering days of Alaska.  It was a beautiful place,
almost a proper wilderness, filled with trees and hundreds of small
streams, where one could run into moose or even bear almost anytime.  I
loved it.  My house was situated off the main drag through Goldstream,
isolated from neighbors and protected from the city lights of Fairbanks
by rolling foothills.  I brought the pick-up to a sputtering halt beside
the house.

 We turned the TV on as soon as we were inside, and Tara sat stonily in
front of it while I fed the dogs and fixed a small dinner for
ourselves.  I have a pair of, appropriately enough, Alaskan Malamutes,
whom I let out of their run and into the house as soon I had their food
ready.  I fed them early, but they were never ones to turn down a meal,
no matter what time it was served.  When I took dinner out to Tara in
the livingroom, the two dogs lingered around us hopefully, probably
noticing that neither of the humans seemed very interested in eating.

 I watched the pictures being shown from New York, and I listened to the
analysis of the situation from the so-called experts, all with only a
mild interest.  However, when one of the networks came up with a small
amount of file footage featuring Magneto, I perked up.  Every time he
was on that TV screen, I could not take my eyes off of him.  I was
enthralled.  From the power and charisma that man literally radiated, it
was easy to see why he was feared throughout the world, it was
understandable why his Acolytes followed him with such devotion.  He was
a symbol, the mutant unleashed, the one who could make it all happen.

 And it was happening.  The media showed us the mass exodus of humans
out of Manhattan, they showed us the army standing by beneath the
shadows of the watchful Sentinels, they showed us mutants making their
way into the city.  Magneto's dream was becoming a reality, and there
seemed to be little that could be done about it.

 It was far into the evening before Tara said anything to me.  She
picked up the remote and hit mute, so that we could talk without the
national anchorman drowning us out.  "Miss Denning?" she began
hesitantly, hugging a couch pillow to her chest tightly.  She had her
legs drawn up so that she was little more than a tiny ball lost in the
plushness of the couch.  "Miss Denning?  What do you think I should do?"

 I was not sure what to say to her for a long time.  I imagined this
question being asked all over the world by countless mutants.  Perhaps
they were asking their parents, spouses or other loved ones.  More
likely, they had only themselves to ask, having long ago been abandoned
by society.  I was glad that Tara was not alone, that she had someone to
ask.

 "I honestly don't know, Tara," I answered quietly, gazing at the
flickering of the TV.  It was the only light we had on in the
livingroom, and its glow fell across Tara's round features, giving her a
ghostly appearance.  Would things be better for her if she went and
joined Magneto's Haven?  Whenever his image splashed across the TV, I
could almost believe so, he was so powerful and in command.  I could
almost see him as a father figure to all the young mutants of the world,
after all, most of his Acolytes appeared to be young.  He wanted only to
protect them, to give them someplace safe to call their own.  Every time
his speech was replayed, I knew for certain he would willingly die for
the protection of children like Tara.  He was not a terrorist, he was
only sheltering his own, like any parent would.  If Tara were to go to
him, I knew without doubt that she would find haven beneath his shadow.

 But, I also knew it could not last.  I listened to the debates, I saw
the other side of the problem as well.  Magneto was holding a city
hostage, this was how most of the world viewed this situation.  The
American people were not going to stand for their most powerful center
of business and finance to be under his control for long.  The presence
of the military outside Manhattan proved this.  It would probably be
only a matter of time before Magneto's dream crumbled.

 Or would it?  What if the combined might and power of all those
thousands of gathered mutants proved to be stronger than the strength of
the military?  How far would the United States government go to take
back the city?  Did I want gentle Tara to be in the middle of all of
that?  How many mutants could Magneto protect at once?

 I drew in a soft breath of conviction.  "Tara, if you want to go, then
we will find a way to get you there," I told her with a firm tone that
told her exactly how serious I was.  If she wanted to go, I would help
her, for it was her right.  These were her people, and Magneto was her
god.  She deserved the chance to make her life her own.

 She looked at me, tears glistening in her almond-shaped eyes.  "You
would go with me?"

 I nodded.  Of course I would.  I loved the child like she was my own
blood, I would not abandon her to her destiny just because Magneto was
calling her.  Perhaps he could protect her alone, but with me at her
side, she would be twice as safe.  I would see that no harm came to her,
I swore it to myself.

 And if the unthinkable actually happened, if Magneto was allowed to
keep his Haven, then I was more than willing to live there under his
rule.  For Tara's sake, and for the sake of all mutants, I would strive
for the coexistence that Magneto sought.  His savage power enthralled me
as much as it did his own kind.  He was making things happen when others
only talked about it.  He was baronial, and he was in complete control.

 "I will think about it," Tara decided quietly.

 I agreed.  "It is perhaps best if we see how this is going to play
out.  If there is going to be trouble, then I would rather we not be
there in the middle of it."

 As it turned out, Tara's decision was made for her.  Sadly, within
days, the Mutant Empire fell.  CNN said it was due to the intervention
of a team of mutants called the X-Men.  I had heard of them too, of
course.  It made me wonder how much was happening behind the scenes that
we did not see.  Why would the X-Men, mutants who were often hated and
feared by the general populous, turn against Magneto who offered them a
safe haven and a chance at normal lives?  Perhaps it was the tyrannical
nature of Magneto's experiment that caused them to oppose his plans.
Perhaps there was something more.  It was doubtful I would ever know.  I
was mostly relieved that Tara had not gone to Manhattan to take Magneto
up on his offer, for to think that she might have been caught in the
chaos that had ensued gave me cold chills.  On the other hand, I
regretted that the opportunity had been taken from her.

 And once things had calmed down, I found myself disappointed that
images of Magneto faded in frequency on the news until they were
completely gone.  I missed that crimson costume flashing before my eyes,
highlighting magnificent muscles and barely containing the power of the
Master of Magnetism.


*******************************


 Life returned to normal and we had a very profitable tourist season.
The summer was long and annoyingly hot, as usual in Interior Alaska.  I
have always had to laugh at people who automatically assume this entire
state is a frozen wasteland.  In the summer, temperatures soar to
uncomfortable heights and the days are endlessly long.  Autumn is a
relief in these parts, believe you me.

 Tara started to call me by my first name at last.  I suppose she felt
more at ease with me now that it was out in the open between us that she
was a mutant.  In the evenings when she came home with me, we talked and
I found out more about her.  My suspicions of abuse had been correct.
Like most mutants, her powers had manifested when she reached
adolescence, and her family had been shocked.  I simply could not
understand why, since her abilities were quiet ones, barely noticeable
most of the time.  But she told me that her highly religious stepfather
had decided she was a witch of some sort, and had brutally abused her
until she decided running away was her only option.  She had hitchhiked
up from Valdez and had not contacted her family since.

 We would also discuss her abilities and what she could do with them.
It was still sort of nebulous to us both exactly what she did, but when
she was around plants grew, everything seemed to balance itself, she
could even stop the dogs from chasing ground squirrels and get them all
to play together instead.  I was rather shocked the first time I saw
that happen!  It was as if, when Tara hummed her melodious little songs,
nothing could go wrong and nothing bad could happen.  Neither of us
really understood exactly what she did, nor how to explain it.

 One evening in the late part of September, we closed the store late.
We had hosted a poetry reading which had run long, and by the time
everyone had left, it was dark out and growing cool.  I certainly didn't
mind, dark and cool were my preferred state of things.  Tara and I were
both in good moods, giggling and joking about some of the humourous
poetry that had been read, and the fact that a certain young man had
kept his eye on Tara the entire night.  We had locked the door and
switched off the outside lights, and were contemplating what to do with
the rest of the evening when it began to happen.

 At first neither of us noticed it, but there was a slight tremor in the
floor beneath us.  Small quakes are commonplace in this area of Alaska,
so I'm not surprised that I didn't really remember the trembling until
later.

 "Anything playing at the theater?" Tara asked as she pulled her cash
drawer from the register to count it down.

 "Nope," I responded, getting the vacuum out of the storage closet so
that I could run it over the carpet.  It was a Kirby, probably older
than I was, that I had reluctantly inherited from my mother upon her
buying a new one.  I never looked forward to vacuuming, the damn machine
always gave me hassles.  "I drove by on my way to Jeffery's for lunch.
Same old junk.  We could rent some videos tonight, if you want, or watch
something I already have."

 Neither of us noticed that the windows were now trembling just
slightly.  Tara smiled eagerly in my direction.  "Could we watch
_Somewhere in Time_?"

 I smiled, knowing that was one of Tara's favorite movies, and
truthfully I was fond of it too.  "Sure.  But you have to make the
popcorn.  I burnt it last time."

 "I know," she chuckled.  "That won't happen when I make it."

 "Showoff," I sneered back at her, then straightened from the
uncooperative vacuum, my attention caught by an odd light outside.  I
thought I had turned off the outside lights, and for a moment I thought
I must have been mistaken.  But the light was strange, it was a pale
blue white, and our outside light was yellow.  I started to move to the
window, noticing at last the vibrations running through the building,
but I did not make it that far.

 The locked door slammed open suddenly, startling us both enough to yell
out in surprise.  The strange light from outside invaded the store
through the open door, crackling around with a static hiss.  There was a
soft swish that accompanied the light, enough of a breeze that my dark
brown hair was tossed about lightly.  Though it was bright, the light
was not painful to look at.  The shaking of the building increased, the
metal shelves throughout the store rattled.

 And suddenly he was there, right in front of us.  He floated down from
above and moved through the door with a smooth grace, staying just above
the floor.  He was surrounded by the light, coalesced into a shielding
bubble, and within the protection of that bubble, a thin glow completely
encased him.

 Magneto.

 We both stared at him in complete awe.  He was not exactly a large man,
probably just over six foot. But his sheer presence was huge and
overwhelming.  For the first time ever, I saw the man without his helmet
on, his silver hair was also being tossed by the breeze he created,
cascading just past shoulder length in gentle natural waves.  It was
beautiful and soft looking.  His purple cape also swirled around him,
humming with the energy he was emitting, giving only teasing views of
the red uniform beneath.  His eyes were a piecing blue grey, shining
with a cool strong light.  He met my gaze briefly, this incredible force
of nature, and for a moment I thought I saw the corners of his mouth
twitch in a faint smile.

 Then he looked at Tara, who was pressed back against the wall behind
the counter, staring at him with fear and wonder.  I saw his eyes soften
with an almost parental glow, and in some distant part of my mind I
realized that I had been right in my estimation of this man.  He was a
father, and he cared for his people.

 "Tara Aimee Samuels," he said in a voice that was at once gentle and
commanding.  "I have come to offer you a safe haven."

 Tara blinked in astonishment.  She was speechless.  I was feeling just
as overwhelmed, but my caring for the teenager far outweighed any fear I
may have felt.  Truthfully, I really don't think I was actually afraid.
I was certainly in awe of the legend before me, enthralled by forces
crackling and twisting around me, and stunned by the man's stoically
handsome features, but I was not afraid.  Though I could feel myself
shaking all the way through my body, and my breath was difficult to
catch, I was not frightened or intimidated by the Master of Magnetism.

 I was entranced.

 But not so much that I couldn't voice my concerns for Tara.  I took a
chance and stepped forward.  "A safe haven?"  I asked him, with all the
concern I felt for my young friend reflected in the tone of my voice.
He turned those incredible eyes on me and held my gaze in his.  I could
almost feel that he understood my concern, that he was not angry I had
given voice to my fears.  We both wanted the same thing, me the Human
and he the Force of Nature.  We wanted Tara to be safe and protected, we
wanted her to have the chance to live a life free of bigotry and
prosecution.  In the long moment that my brown eyes were locked with his
steel ones, we found common ground.

 He broke the connection first, looking back to Tara.  The magnetic
bubble which surrounded him slowly melted away, lowering his purple
boots lightly to the floor.  The magnetic static forces continued to
crackle around him, however, making the very air hum and sparkle.  He
reached a gloved hand out to Tara, and I could not help but watch the
movements of his well-defined muscles beneath the red uniform.

 "The days of mutant tolerance will soon crumble away, and when that
time comes, no mutant will be able to walk the earth safely," his voice
sent shivers down my spine, it was so low and even, yet I could feel his
passions riding just beneath the tones.  "I cannot stand by and watch my
people being exterminated simply due to having had the misfortune of
being born different.  I wish to protect my mutant brethren, to offer
them sanctuary from the coming storm.  To that end I have created
Avalon."

 It appeared that Tara was feeling more at ease as his carefully spoken
words soothed her fragile nerves.  There was a shine of interest in her
emerald eyes, which reflected the snapping of his energy.  She took a
deep breath.  "Avalon?"

 "It is a space station," he replied, and I could sense the pride in his
words.  "I have laid claim to a piece of the sky for us.  There we will
live in peace with each other until such time when the world is ready to
accept us and welcome us home."

 I was rather shocked.  A space station?  There was no doubt that he was
serious, but I was uncertain about this strange turn of events.  Just
months ago, had he not been preaching for a coexistence of humans and
mutants, albeit under mutant rule?  Now he was taking one step further
and cutting mutants off from the rest of the world entirely.  Could this
be right?

 Tara looked surprised too.  I could see the questions and thoughts
whirling behind her expression.  For a long moment, none of us moved.
There was no sound save the soft crackles and hum of Magneto's energies.

 "Your abilities would serve us well, Miss Samuels," Magneto said after
the silence.  "Though the technology used to create Avalon can provide
us with much of what we need, we still plan to develop gardens and
orchards to supplement our diets.  You would be invaluable in helping us
to maintain healthy conditions toward this goal."

 Indeed she would!  But gardens and orchards?  Just how big was this
space station?  How many mutants did he plan to have live there with
him?  And for how long?

 "It will be your home, Miss Samuels, and you will share it with many of
our kind."

 Tara looked at me then, and I saw exactly what she was thinking.  She
wanted to go.  She wanted to be a part of Magneto's grand vision, and I
really could not say that I blamed her.  He was a powerful and enigmatic
man, and like before; he was doing what he felt needed to be done.  And
that he had come here personally to request her presence, made her feel
very special indeed.

 But she was worried, afraid I would not approve.  I could only give her
a small shrug that said the decision was up to her.  But I also smiled
so that she would know I stood behind her whatever path she chose.

 After another long moment, Tara stepped around the counter and laid her
small pale hand in Magneto's much larger one.  Another smile played
around his firm mouth, and he grasped her fingers in a way meant to
welcome and comfort.

 "Excellent," he said warmly.  "You will be called, Harmony."

 Tara broke into a smile, and even I was surprised and pleased.  Harmony
was exactly the word to describe what her abilities were.  I found
myself wondering, however; how had Magneto known of her powers?  How had
he known where to find her?  To a young girl like Tara, I am sure he
seemed more god than man, able to do anything.  Within her eyes I saw
reflected the same shine of devotion with which Magneto's Acolytes so
faithfully followed him.

 They stepped out of the store together, and I followed them, moving
through Magneto's energy signature, feeling the strange purring of
magnetic forces swirl around me.  Outside the store, we all looked up,
and I could make out the blinking lights of some sort of craft high
above us in the night.  Smirking slightly, I wondered to myself how many
UFO sightings were going to be reported to the Fairbanks P.D. this
evening.  Then I began to wonder, was this the space station he had
talked about?  It did not seem very large, only about the size of a
normal cargo plane.

 As if reading my thoughts, and I was wondering if he could do that too,
Magneto told Tara, "Above us is the shuttle which will take you to
Avalon, Harmony.  I have much to do this night and will join you later
aboard the station.  There is no need to fear," he assured her,
obviously having seen the fear spring into her eyes at the same moment I
did.  "I will allow no harm to come to you, child.  I promise."

 I felt more secure, hearing the conviction in his tone.  Tara
apparently did too, for she turned to me then, and smiled in her soft
nervous way.  She reached out and we clasped hands, while Magneto's blue
white light whispered around us.

 "Thank you, Mary," Tara whispered.

 I was not sure what I could say to her, how I could tell her how
important she had become to me, how much I was going to miss her, or how
I wished her every happiness in her new life.  I simply pulled her into
a tight embrace, letting her feel all the things I did not know how to
say.

 When we stepped away from each other, Tara began to glow with the same
sparkling light as Magneto.  A soft bubble of magnetic protection
surrounded her fragile form, and gently she lifted from the ground.  She
looked nervous, but eager to face whatever lay ahead, knowing she would
be safe beneath Magneto's protective wing.  As she rose, she smiled down
at me and waved.  I lifted a hand to return the farewell, a small part
of me aching that she was about to disappear from my life.

 We watched until her soft glow merged with the lights of the shuttle
above.  I looked at Magneto then, at the startlingly soft expression on
his face as he gazed skyward after his new charge.  I wanted to grill
him, to demand that he tell me exactly what he had in store for Tara,
how she would be received and welcomed on his space station.  How would
he protect her?  What guarantees could he give me?  But I remained
silent, for his very presence answered every question I might have had.
He had just claimed Tara as one of his children, and like any father, he
would die to protect her.  I had no doubt of this.

 Then that magnificent man turned his steel gaze back to me and regarded
me for a long moment.  I stood still beneath the scrutiny, but shivers
ran through my entire body, making my stomach flutter with an undirected
desire.  In some corner of my mind I analyzed this feeling of want.  Did
I wish, at that moment, that I was a mutant also, so that he would take
me into his fold as he had Tara?  So that I could live as part of his
dream and have his presence near me all the time?  I suppose a part of
me was feeling that way, for he was intoxicating, and I knew that if I
were to spend even a small amount of time around him, it would not be
enough.  I would want him around always, and that was dangerous
thinking.

 But as I stared into his eyes, I realized there was far more to my
desire than that.  He was a beautiful and magnificent man, and I knew
that my desire had nothing to do with his mutation or power, nothing to
do with Magneto, Master of Magnetism.  My want was for the man I saw
deep in those eyes, the man who had faced the failure of his dream more
times than he cared to remember, the man who had lost so much and had
continued living regardless.  My desire was for Erik Magnus Lehnsherr,
and I felt it all the way through me.

 And what was he thinking as he looked at me?  Into my eyes?  I will
never know, but when he broke the gaze, I caught that fleeting ghost of
a smile on his lips once again, and saw a sad twinkle in the steel
depths of his eyes that I will never forget, until the day I die.

 "Good evening, Miss Denning," he said in a rich warm tone, a tone that
made my joints feel weak and shaky.  The magnetic bubble formed around
him, and he gently lifted from the ground with what appeared to be
perfect ease.  I watched him as he floated away, disappearing into the
night.  I envied him for his abilities and at the same time was
saddened, for there was no place for him on the world to which he had
been born.  All of the sparkling magnetic energies went with him, or
slowly sank into the ground, and eventually the trembling subsided,
leaving me to feel alone and empty in my mundaneness.



From ix.netcom.com!visi.com!news-out.visi.com!chippy.visi.com!news-out.visi.com!ais.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!198.70.245.246!nntp.ptinet.net!not-for-mail Tue Sep 23 17:02:48 1997
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From: Jenn the Ice Raptoress <raptor@eagle.ptialaska.net>
Newsgroups: alt.comics.fan-fiction
Subject: STORY:MAGNETO Steel Aurora 2/2 [SEX]
Date: Tue, 23 Sep 1997 09:24:58 -0800
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 WARNING!  Part Two of _Steel Aurora_ contains a scene of gratuitous
sex.  If reading this sort of thing is offensive to you, then for
Heaven's Sake, don't.

 DISCLAIMER: Magneto, X-Men, Avalon, Acolytes and other related material
is copyright Marvel Entertainment Group Inc.  References to the _Mutant
Empire_ trilogy, including the quote used from said trilogy, are
copyright Christopher Golden and Marvel as well.  I am making no profit
off of this story and it is intended for entertainment purposes only.
The characters of Mary Denning and Tara Samuels (aka Harmony) are my own
creations and are therefore copyright me.

 NOTE: The bulk of _Steel Aurora_ takes place after the events depicted
in the _Mutant Empire_ trilogy, by Christopher Golden, and before the
events depicted in the _Fatal Attractions_ story arc.  I am also
operating under the assumption that Magneto would have recruited more
mutants than just his core group of Acolytes to Avalon, since it was a
rather large space station, and I assumed they would need people to run
it.


STEEL AURORA (by Jenn the Ice Raptoress)
Part Two


 Mechanically, I finished closing the store and headed for home.

 On the trip out of Fairbanks, I wrestled with my uncooperative vehicle,
and in frustration and sadness over my loss of Tara, I will admit that I
shed a fair share of tears.  The night was thick and inky around my lone
pick-up as I rattled down badly maintained roads, and served only to
complete my feelings of isolation.  When I arrived at my lonely house,
the pick-up sputtered to a halt and I sat for a long time behind the
wheel, simply looking at the sky beyond the trees.  I tried to picture
Avalon in my mind, and failed.  I tried to imagine what Tara was finding
there in her new world, and could not.

 I went through the motions of living that evening.  I made myself a
small meal and fed the dogs, I sat in front of the television for a long
time, without even seeing it.  When I realized how pointless it was, I
shut the infernal thing off, started a fire and turned off all the
lights.  Taking a mug of hot chocolate with me, I went to the patio
doors and stared out at the night.

 My property is surrounded by trees, but is open enough that I have a
wonderful view of the sky.  Tonight, an aurora borealis flickered
lightly through the blackness, rippling in a pale greenish curtain of
electromagnetic static.  The aurora is one of those sights that can stop
me cold no matter what I am doing, because of its sheer beauty.  Unless
you have experienced the aurora yourself, nothing can prepare you for a
truly spectacular display, and it tends to be especially active in the
fall season.  I have seen it fill the entire sky, rippling and dancing
in a strange fluid motion, whispering with colors of red and violet
against its normal pale green.  It has an unreal beauty, at times.

 The aurora tonight was a light one, pale enough that the stars strewn
across the sky like spilled salt were clearly visible behind its
curtain.  Even as minimal as it was, it was still a lovely sight, and
its presence cheered me a great deal.  It seemed made just for me,
created to tell me that even though my life had just changed
drastically, it was okay.  This was how things were suppose to happen,
almost as if the universe were controlled by the imaginations of some
all-powerful authors.  Events were unfolding as they should, and though
I was but a small player in the game, I was a part nonetheless.

 I decided to retire.  I banked the fire for the night and went up to
the bathroom on the second floor to change from the clothes of the day
to garments for the night.  I stopped however, attracted by my
reflection in the bathroom mirror over the sink.  I paused there and
regarded myself for a long time.

 What had Magneto seen when he looked into my dark brown eyes?  Had he
seen and understood the mind-set of a thirty-ish female who had worked
hard all her life to make living comfortable for herself?  Had he
understood how much I cared for the young mutant girl named Tara, how I
wanted only the best for her and desired only for her to be safe and
happy?  Had he realized that, until the take over of Manhattan, I had
been neither here nor there on the mutant issue, and that my perceptions
had been radically changed by he himself?  Could he know what he meant
to me, the very symbol of mutantkind's struggle for acceptance?  Did he
realize that he had that sort of power?

 I knew he did.

 And had he known my desire for him?  Had he looked at me, a normal
human female, plain and just like every other woman, and felt just how
badly I wanted to know him?  Oh, I did.  I wanted to know every part of
him, from the sadness in his soul to the feel of his sculptured muscles
beneath my hands.  I wanted to feel his energies dancing around me,
wanted to have him close so that I could look into his dimensional eyes
whenever I wished.  Why did the Master of Magnetism; self-proclaimed
messiah of mutantkind and enemy of the earth, have to be so beautiful?

 I gave up trying to retire.  I went back downstairs, threw on my heavy
jacket and went out for a walk.  This was usual behavior, I often
resorted to walks when I was feeling unsettled or needed to think.
Normally, I would take the dogs with me, but on this night I left them
in the house, for I felt a strong desire to be undistracted.  I followed
well-familiar paths through the spruce and birch, snug in my down jacket
against the falling temperatures.  It was a typically gorgeous fall
night, crisp and bright, and high above the gentle aurora continued its
eerie dance.

 I headed habitually for a small thinning of the trees, conveniently
located at the top of a small hill, where I had a good full view of the
sky.  It was a place I often went, and I felt safe and comfortable
there.  As I crested the hill, however, I noticed a soft glow through
the trees, and slowed my pace.  Around me, the air was feeling ever more
charged, and I realized the sensation was very familiar.

 Here?  What was he doing here?

 When I reached the top of the hill and stepped out of the trees, I saw
him.  He stood as still and silent as the night itself, only his
darkened cape swirled behind him gently.  He still did not wear his
helmet, and I was glad, for his silvery waves were softly lit by the
shine of the aurora, as were the chiseled features of his face.  I held
my breath for a long moment, simply drinking in the sight of this
exquisite man, this god of mutants.

 I was not allowed to look for long, however, for he turned at the feel
of my presence.  "Who is there?" he asked in a darkened tone, which made
me feel immediately sorry that I had disturbed him.  I stepped further
out into the clearing, for I was not afraid of him, no matter how much I
probably should have been.

 "I am sorry to disturb you, but I was out walking and you are, after
all,  on my property, Magneto."  I felt ridiculous calling him that for
some reason.  It sounded like something out of a comic book when
actually given voice.  But I had no idea what I could call him.  Mr.
Lehnsherr did not seem respectful enough, and I knew from the media that
he did not generally go by that name anyway.  His Acolytes called him
Lord Magneto, but that seemed like a little too much.  I was at a loss,
but tried not to let it show.  How did one address the Master of
Magnetism?

 He gazed at me with a speculative interest.  Then he inclined his head
graciously.  "I apologize for trespassing, Miss Denning.  It is not
often I have the chance to visit Alaska.  Normally my Herald recruits
new mutants to Avalon, but I could not resist the opportunity.  I am
sure you understand why I am especially attracted to this region."

 I had to think for a moment, then I remembered from all my studies that
the magnetosphere of the earth was very strong in this area of the
world, which included Alaska and western Canada, nearly twice as strong
as it is at the Equator.  I wondered if that gave him more power, or if
it just felt good for him to be here.  Then I wondered how he could have
known that I was a student of the sciences.  I decided to file that
thought away as "unresolved" and moved slightly closer to him.  He did
not appear to mind, for he did not acknowledge my advance in any way.

 I found myself wondering if he could see the aurora band from his
vantage in Avalon.  I had seen images of the bright northern auroral
ring taken from space by shuttle astronauts.  I contemplated whether or
not a space station such as what I assumed Avalon to be, could make an
orbit that would take it up where it could view the top of the world.  I
knew from the work being done at the SAR Labs on campus that many
satellites followed polar orbits, but could an entire space station
manage that?

 "It is a shame that the aurora is not preforming better tonight, then,"
I commented.  If Magneto did not get to Alaska, or even earth that
often, then the aurora display was one of the pleasures he might truly
miss.

 "Indeed," his rich voice brought me out of my thoughts.  He returned
his gaze to the skies and raised his right hand just slightly.  I
wondered what he was doing, but not for long.

 The faint aurora which was flickering softly through the night began to
grow and brighten.  Slowly, its complicated dance increased in
intensity, filling the entire sky with rippling drapes of greenish white
light.  It swirled and frolicked through the autumn night like frisky
horses, galloping and rolling.  At the edges of the undulating bands,
the light burned in reds, and the entire display was so brilliant that
it blocked the view of the stars.

 It was the most fantastic aurora display I had ever witnessed.  My
entire attention was held by its indescribable beauty and intensity.
And this entire electromagnetic phenomenon was being orchestrated by
none other than the Master of Magnetism himself.  He was creating a
magnetic storm against which the solar particles in the atmosphere
banged and bounced.  It was all I could do to stand and stare in wonder
at the spectacle.  I felt wonderfully weak and at last just a trifle
scared.  It was an incredible amount of power this man wielded so
easily.  I had read a study while in college that estimated the power
required to produce a moderate display of an aurora was roughly equal to
that of a Richter magnitude six earthquake, or a small nuclear bomb.
And this was no moderate display!  I had no doubt that this was being
seen clearly far south into the States.

 Just as I was thinking that no sight could ever hope to be more
beautiful, a shooting star blazed briefly through the dance of the
aurora.  Though I knew that the event had been completely by chance, it
seemed an appropriate way to punctuate such an incredible experience.
When I tore my gaze from the sky to look at Magneto, I realized that
there were tears standing in my eyes, I was so overwhelmed.

 He stood there as still as ever, the light of the skies reflected so
perfectly in his arresting eyes.

 "My God," I whispered, as these were the only words my thunderstruck
mind could find to give voice to.

 "A gift for you," he rumbled, "as repayment for the kindness you showed
to Harmony, and the protection you gave her."

 Harmony.  My thoughts found their way back to gentle Tara and my
concerns over her welfare.  Was she seeing this spectacular display in
her new home?  After this astonishing show of power, I had no doubt that
Magneto could protect the child from almost anything, but I needed the
reassurance, I needed to hear him tell me exactly what I wanted to know.

 I licked my dry lips and faced squarely the infamous Master of
Magnetism.  "You will keep her safe, Magneto?  You will let no harm come
to her?"  The tone of my voice told him that he had better not, or he
would have me to answer to, as insignificant a threat as that was.

 But he took it seriously, this man who stood in opposition to the
entire world; he recognized and acknowledged my implied threat with a
nod, and a softening of his dimensional eyes.  "You have my word,
Mary."  His voice was even and subdued.  "I will allow nothing to hurt
her while she is in my care."

 I accepted his promise with a careful smile, feeling a sense of relief
within myself that was rather humorous.  Exactly what did I plan to do
if he was not true to his word?  Storm a space station?  Right, like
that was going to happen.

 "You may call me Magnus," he decided after a long contemplative pause.
I looked at him with another gentle smile, still astonished at how he
seemed to understand me.  Magnus.  It seemed perfect for him.  It was
just what he was, without any extra pomp.  And the fact that he had also
called me by my first name seemed to suggest that he considered us
equals, as far as our caring for Tara was concerned.  Mother and
Father.  Protectors.

 "Thank you Magnus," I breathed.  "For everything."

 He nodded once more.  The quiet sadness in his eyes shone softly, and
the lines on his face looked as though they had never known the feel of
a smile.

 I returned my gaze to the sky, to the phenomenal display that was still
dancing overhead, and would be for hours.  It was a huge sky, and for
all its beauty, it seemed a very lonely place.  I had no idea what size
Avalon was, or how many mutants lived there.  But somehow I knew that no
matter how great that number may have been, the man who stood beside me
would always be alone among them.  There was a distance to him, an
invisible barrier that had nothing to do with his magnetic powers.  I
wondered, for what reason had he erected this shield?  Was it from the
pains of the past that I might never understand?  Was it because of some
madness inside that caused him to endlessly seek the fruition of his
dream?  Or was it that he was no longer a part of the earth, that he had
so ostracized himself that no country, no person of the world would have
him?

 What kind of people were we humans, that men such as Magnus were forced
to know pain?

 "I wish it did not have to be so, Magnus," I began, not feeling in the
least inhibited by his presence.  Whatever his past sins or violent
temper, on this night he was not as the world had made him out to be.
"I wish that you did not feel the need to separate your people from the
world which gave them birth."

 He remained silent for a long time, and I did not look at him.  The
only sound was that of the swishing of his regal cape.

 Finally he answered in his low gravelly voice, and in his words I
detected just a hint of an accent.  "The humans make it necessary," he
said.

 I did not disagree with him, but I did turn my eyes to him.  "Not all
humans are that way.  Not all humans wish harm on mutantkind."

 He looked at me as well.  "No," he agreed.  "Not all humans."

 I felt again the connection we had made earlier, the discovery of
common ground.  His eyes, his very presence, made me want to melt into
myself.  I shivered hard, from both his gaze and the coldness creeping
in through my jacket.  Apparently, he saw my shake.

 "You are cold," he observed.

 "A bit," I admitted, and wondered why he was not.  His red and purple
uniform had the look of material armor, but it did not seem very
insulating, especially not in the way it clung so tightly to every
detail of his muscles.  "My home is not far from here," I continued,
"Would you like some coffee?"

 I realized as soon as I had said it, how strange it sounded.  This,
after all, was the Master of Magnetism.  It seemed ridiculous to even
think of inviting a force of nature over for something as perfectly
normal as coffee.  Did he even drink coffee?

 But, after everything is said and done, even Magneto was just a man,
and if I had met anyone else up here on this hill, I would have done the
same thing.  Was it so odd to treat the man as I would one of my
neighbors?  Was that not what peaceful coexistence meant, the right to
be treated as everyone else was?

 Himself, Magnus raised his silvery eyebrows in a mild surprise.  I
could only imagine what he was thinking.  Getting over my initial
discomfort, I smiled to let him know I meant my invitation, and gestured
him toward the trail I had taken from the house.  "Come on, it's not
far," I urged.  "And coffee sounds great right now, doesn't it?"

 Amusement flickered over his features, but unfortunately did not fall
into a full smile.  "Indeed it does," he replied.

 I turned to follow the path, figuring that he would follow me, but I
was in for another shock in an evening full of surprises.  I felt the
crackling of his blue magnetic energy surround me, and my heart stopped
for a few seconds as I was lifted off of the ground and pulled into his
protective bubble beside him.  Within the bubble, the air was warm and
charged, with a pleasant melodious hum that played around my ears.  I
looked down and realized that we were rising above the trees.  Gasping
and fighting brief disorientation, I unthinkingly grabbed Magnus' arm
and held tight.  The sight of nothing, save for a blue glow, beneath my
feet was rather alarming.

 Then, initial shock wavering, I realized I was holding onto the Master
of Magnetism.  I could feel his tensed muscles beneath my fingertips,
under the smooth play of his red uniform.  Perhaps I should have let go
then and there, but I did not.  I continued to cling to him nervously as
the black trees passed beneath us.  I heard him chuckle lowly, and
looked up to see that amusement was dancing in his eyes once again.  He
was pleased he had startled me!

 Within moments we were lowering down to the patio off my livingroom,
and I could see the dogs making an excited fuss through the glass of the
patio doors.  As soon as our feet touched the flagstone, the magnetic
bubble dissipated, and the cool air hurried to cling to my skin.  I
opened the patio door and nudged the dogs aside so that Magnus could
come in, a bit worried that the dogs might react badly to him.

 Anyone who ever said that northern dog breeds are good watchdogs was
quite simply a liar.  They not only allowed the strange man into the
house, but greeted him enthusiastically, as if he was an old friend they
hadn't seen in years.  I shooed them away so as not to annoy Magnus, but
he seemed more amused than bothered.  I turned a light on low, invited
Magnus to sit in the livingroom in front of the fire, and hurried to get
the coffee going.

 When I returned to the livingroom, I was not really surprised that he
had not taken the couch as I had offered, but was idly wandering the
room, the dogs his happy shadows, looking at all the artwork,
copperware, and sci-fi memorabilia I had displayed.  I suppose these are
the things that tell the story of who I am, and he was engaged in
reading that story.  I stopped in the small foray which led to the
kitchen and watched as he picked up a framed photo of me with my mother
and examined it expressionlessly.


 For the first time since we had arrived home, I noticed that he was no
longer glowing, no longer shedding the sparkling blue light that I had
seen surrounding him continuously since I had met him.  In the still air
of the livingroom, his cape did not swirl or billow.  He was just a man,
albeit one in a cape and blood red uniform, but still a man.  There was
nothing supernatural about him, nothing different.  He was simply a
handsome man, standing highlighted by the flames in the fireplace.

 Even compared to the aurora still dancing outside, Magnus was one of
the most beautiful sights I had ever seen.

 I sort of guessed he would take his coffee black.  I brought it to him
in a steaming mug, and he accepted it with a cultured grace that I had
to admire.  He sat on the couch.  As was my habit, I sat on the floor in
front of the couch, leaning my back against its plush surface, and
cradling my own coffee mug in my hands.  This put me at his feet.

 It also seemed to surprise him a great deal.  I wonder if he thought I
was deferring to him or something, but I just smiled up at him, then
sipped my coffee, watching the fire.  After a few minutes, I sensed the
muscles in his legs relax as he grew more comfortable with my position.
Truthfully, in a secret heart, I did not mind at all being at his feet.

 We did not speak, but the silence was neither strained nor
uncomfortable.  I got the impression that he was not often given the
chance to relax like this, and so I wished for nothing to disturb the
moment.  He had given me the gift of the aurora, I wanted to give him
the gift of a few moments peace and calm.  The dogs, over their
excitement of having a stranger in the house, settled down on either
side of the fireplace.  It was probably the same liar who said that
northern dogs like the cold, because my two hardy mutts were both heat
seekers and enjoyed a good fire as much as I did.

 After a long while, I got up to stoke the fire a little, adding a
couple of logs from the pile kept neatly in the nearby wood box.  I felt
Magnus' gaze on me, but did not acknowledge it.  Before returning to my
place on the floor, I paused and contemplated the licking flames and how
they danced, much like the aurora Magnus had enhanced with his magnetic
storm.  There was so much power there, and for a moment I found the
notion that he was sitting here having coffee with me to be utterly
ridiculous.

 I must have smiled, for he spoke up for the first time since entering
the house.  "Why do you smile, Mary?" he asked lowly.

 I looked at him, was immediately caught by his eyes.  They were as
beautiful as always, but even more so now with the flames reflecting in
their steel depths.  At that moment, he must have known what I was
feeling, how magnificent I thought he was.  Every emotion I was feeling
had to be mirrored on my face, for there was no way I could hide any of
it.  Just sitting there, as he was on the couch with a mug of coffee in
his hand, I knew that I desired him very badly, and I could tell by the
raising of his eyebrows that he knew it too.

 "This just all seems so strange," I answered, wondering if there was
any way to put into words the feelings I had been harboring for him
since the moment I heard him speak on TV.  No, there was no way, desires
like these were not so common as to have words assigned to them.  "After
all," I continued with a soft hesitation.  "You are Magneto."

 Magnus put down his mug and stood in a fluid movement of grace and
poise.  He stepped over to me, and I heard the soft swish of his cape as
it moved around him.  When he stopped, I gradually became aware of his
scent.  There was a muskiness to it, a gentle smell of the earth and
sky, with just a hint of underlying ozone.  It was not unpleasant, it
was in fact, as intoxicating as I knew the man was.

 "Does that matter?" he asked, and I could almost feel the vibrations of
his words in the air between us.  I looked up into his steel eyes, at
the fire highlighted features of his strong handsome face, and I shook
my head.  It did not matter.  That he was Magneto, Master of Magnetism
was secondary.  In my eyes, locked so comfortably with his, he was
Magnus.  He was a man, and I had never wanted anyone as I desired him.

 Which one of us initiated the kiss?  I will never really know.  Perhaps
it was by mutual unvoiced agreement.  All I really remember is that I
stood taller to reach him, and he leaned down to reach me, and when our
lips met, a soft keen of true desire flashed through my body.  I had not
been sure what to expect.  Would he feel electric?  Would there be a
magnetic sense to his skin and lips?  I was pleased when there was not.
Though his fingertips against my face felt a little tingly, his lips
were warm and gentle, and just further illustrated the fact that he was
a man like any other, with the same blood swishing through his veins.


 What began as a gentle kiss evolved into something intense and urgent.
I slipped my hands up around his neck, feeling the softness of his hair
slide over my skin in wispy waves, and he snaked his arms around my
waist, pulling me in closer to his broad chest.  His body was firm,
there was nothing soft about this man at all.  Our teeth slipped
together as the kiss grew deeper, each of us probing into the other's
mouth with soft desperation.  As I kneaded my hands in his hair, he ran
his hands up my back, down over my buttocks and squeezed lightly with
his strong fingers.

 We broke for air.  I was about to apologize for allowing something like
this to happen, but he quieted me with another kiss.  This one was a bit
gentler, but maintained the same intensity.  I lost myself in it, glad
he had not stopped.  His cape moved around to encase us, and as he
lowered me to the floor, I realized that it had come free from his
shoulders and now served as our protection from the carpeted floor.
Strangely, the feel of the cape beneath me was soft and comfortable.

 I ran my hands over his body, seeking a way into his satin red uniform,
but finding nothing save the delightful play of his muscles under my
questing fingers.  He was indeed as well-defined as he appeared, and I
felt a quivering within my loins at just moving my hands over him.  He
was as quiet as ever, but I could see by the reflected light in his eyes
that he liked the feel of my hands as I worshiped his body by feel.
Another faint smile danced on his face, and his uniform; gloves, boots
and all, seemed to dematerialize and reform itself draped over the arm
of the couch.  I was a bit startled, but not so much that I stopped my
exploration of his body, now free of the hindering material.  Apparently
even the material of his clothes was metallic, with the exception of his
underwear, it seemed, for he still wore that.

 My clothes were not so well equipped, and Magnus was forced into the
pleasant task of removing them from me in the normal manner.  He did so
in careful concentration, letting his warm hands touch every part of me
as he worked, slipping off my blouse and jeans, pulling away my milky
bra, until I reclined naked beneath him.  We added our mouths to our
bodily explorations, kissing and sucking gently everyplace we could
touch.  When his tongue found my right nipple, I gasped softly from the
warmth of his breath, and arched myself up to meet his questing.

 He braced me with his strong arm, and I twined my fingers in his hair,
surrendering my breasts to his touch and mouth.  He teased gently at
first, I could feel his amusement at my soft gasping breaths, then the
tickling of his tongue gave way to a firm suck.  I thrilled throughout
my body, feeling an urgent pull between my legs.  Magnus lowered me back
onto his cape, and moved his mouth slowly down the shining surface of my
abdomen, testing and tasting the saltiness of my skin with his tongue.
I closed my eyes, tilting my head back, letting the wondrous sensations
spiral their way up through my body as they would.  I allowed him the
control more than willingly, sensing that he preferred it that way, that
he liked being the cause of my reactions.

 I felt a new urgency to his movements, which increased with my every
moan or gasp.  Controlling me was just what he wanted, exactly what
fueled his desire.  With his fingers, he increased that control, working
them into the warm folds of my vulva, finding that special little spot
that caused me to shutter uncontrollably.  The tingling sensations which
his fingers caused moved through me like the undulating patterns of the
aurora.  I arched and whispered my need, even as he continued to work at
me, delighting in giving me pleasure.

 I felt him move over me, resting his hands on either side of my head to
hold himself up.  I opened my eyes and gazed up at him, shivering deep
within myself with how badly I wanted him.  I snaked my hands down
between us to discovered that he had, at some point, shed his underwear,
to reveal his hard member.  I took it firmly in my hands, thrilled that
now I had control.  It was warm and satiny under my fingers, and as
large as I had guessed it might be, for surely this mighty man had a
mighty sword to match.  I grasped hard, was rewarded by his audible
intake of breath, and tilted my hips up.

 I guided him into me, and he obliged me by sinking in slowly, so that I
felt every inch of his granitic shaft moving into my depths.  I gasped
at the feel, at how wide I spread myself to take him all.  He pushed
himself in as far as possible, and I took him completely to the base of
that magnificent organ.  Then we melded together.  I wrapped my legs
around his waist, pushing him in ever more firmly, and slipped my arms
around his neck.  He supported my body with his own powerful arms
beneath my back, and caught my mouth in a new kiss, one that spoke only
of need.

 We started slowly, he fluidly pulsing his hips, while my inner muscles
contracted around his member.  Each of his thrusts found a special place
deep within me that caused me to quiver and gasp, and my sounds seemed
to drive him on, harder and stronger.  Within long moments, we were
straining tight together, kissing in hard time with the rhythm we
created.  Though he made no noise, I moaned and groaned enough for both
of us, unable to control my sounds as we graduated up into a fever
pitch.  I felt sparkling magnetic pulses flickering into my body at
every place where our skin contacted, and the feathery sensations made
it all the more glorious.  As I felt myself reaching the most spiraling
high I had ever experienced, I opened my eyes and locked my gaze with
his.  Together, we shared the depths of our souls as we came to a final
shuttering climax.

 Magnus let out a breath with his release.  He rolled us so that I found
myself laying on his broad slick chest, his shaft still buried deep
inside me.  Shaking with my own exertion, I rested my head over his
heart and listened to its rapid beating.  Too bewildered to actually
think about what had just happened, I shut my eyes tightly, feeling soft
trickles of perspiration slide from my hair across my forehead.

 When I had the strength, I lifted my head to look at him, and found him
with his own eyes closed, and sweat glistening on his features, mixing
with the highlights from the fire.  His hair was damp, laying out
beneath him.  Sliding up slightly over his slick chest, I kissed his
open lips gently.

 We lay together for a long time, each of us gathering strength in body
and mind.  As I listened to the thumping of his heat, his measured
breathing, and the snapping of the fire, I found myself wondering if
some of Tara's harmony had not stayed with us, even though the girl was
now far away.  At this moment, we were neither human nor mutant.  We
just were.  And like the aurora dancing somewhere above us, we were
perfect.


*****************************


 I don't really remember actually moving from the floor to the bed
upstairs, and the rest of that long night is a kaleidoscope of warm hazy
love-making, short periods of perfect quiet, and the melding of two
souls into one.  When we touched, we discovered we could feel into each
other's emotions.  I felt all the sadness and pain he carried with him
like impenetrable shields.  I experienced exactly how powerful and
violent he could be, and I discovered his passions and convictions.  I
felt shabby that I could not return to him the same depths of personal
history, but perhaps he found solace in my mundaneness for the night.
Perhaps I was a welcome relief in a life that had not experienced enough
normality.

 When morning arrived to disrupt the mental embrace we had locked
ourselves into, I was deeply disappointed, but I had no illusions over
what was going to happen.  Awakening to his handsome face beside mine
was almost spiritual.  I took a long moment to actually look at him with
new eyes that understood he was a man like any other.  The lines of his
face were smoothed as he dozed lightly, it seemed that for at least a
few moments during sleep, he could forget who he was, forget that he was
considered one of the greatest threats to mankind that had ever
existed.  I burned that gentle image into my mind, for I wanted to
remember the beauty of the man he was, to hold that picture as mine.  He
felt my eyes on him soon enough, and opened his own, revealing once
again those steel blue-grey depths, now reflecting the light of morning.

 We simply stared at each other for a long time.  There was no tension,
no fear, no strain.  We said everything we needed to with our silence.
As the sun began to invade through the window of the bedroom, I leaned
over and kissed him one last time.  He reciprocated, and the warmth of
our mouths mingled together for a final moment.

 Then I got up, wordlessly wrapped myself in a robe, and made my way
down into the kitchen.  There were things that needed to be done.  The
dogs were awaiting their morning meal, and wanted to be let out.  I
brewed coffee and popped some bread in the toaster, thinking that
marmalade would taste good this morning.  My thoughts wandered to the
store.  Now that Tara was gone, I was going to need to hire another
assistant and I made a mental note to call the local paper to place an
add.  I occupied my thoughts with anything and everything, and when I
had finally run out of things to ponder, I went back upstairs and looked
into my room.

 I was not surprised to find it empty.

 There was nothing to do but go on with life as usual.  I ran through
all my normal morning activities, though with a heart that felt at once
heavy and weightless.  Though I knew that I would keenly miss Magnus and
his touch, I also knew he had given me a very special gift, a part of
himself he rarely showed.  Though the storm was brewing, and he was at
the center of it, I had seen the part of his soul that despaired at each
setback to his dream.  This was not the Magneto that the world knew.
This was Magnus.  This was the man, not the mutant.

 I finished breakfast, dressed, put the dogs in their kennel, and jumped
into the truck, prepared to face a new day of possibilities.  I felt as
though I had been shown a fresh direction, and I intended to act on that
immediately.  The world needed understanding.

 Expecting the usual sputtering and complaining from the truck, I put
the key in and turned it, grimacing in anticipation.  Imagine my shock
when it turned over the first time and the engine purred as if it had
just felt the touch of a master mechanic.


************************************


 As it turned out, I hired several new people to work in the store, to
pick up some slack while I was occupied with other things.  The next few
months found me hard at work with the city council.  As a local business
owner, I discovered I had a lot of influence and pull in Fairbanks,
people knew me and respected my opinion.  It came as rather a shock to
many voters when I expressed  very open pro- mutant ideas, which oddly
enough, gave me the support I needed to win a seat on the city council
when elections came around.  I discovered that Fairbanks had a greater
mutant population than I had been previously aware of, and I received
calls and letters from other mutants around the state.  I enjoyed the
work, even if I did hear from a few crackpots and bigots who were
against mutants.  I felt that I was doing what I could to promote the
coexistence desired by so many.  My thoughts were that, if I could start
it here, then perhaps eventually it would spread further.  I publically
opposed the local chapters of F.O.H. and even though I did not make any
friends among their number, I slowly began to influence people, giving
them reason to think.

 Even the electromagnetic Pulse which blackened the entire world months
later did not change my opinion, though it did turn the public against
my platform for awhile.  I was not stupid, I knew which mutant had been
responsible for that disaster, but I also figured that his reasons for
the attack had probably been good ones.  Though I was still just a local
politician, I did have some connections in Juneau, who in turn had
connections in D.C.  I learned that the Pulse had occurred after the
erection of a planet-wide defensive shield, the sole purpose of which
was to cut Magneto off from earth.  The magnetic Pulse had been in
self-defense.  Once I talked my supporters into understanding this, our
case became ever stronger.  Soon, I found myself visiting the state
capitol on a fairly regular basis, defending the mutant issue on the
floor of the state senate.


 But, my base of operations always remained the store, and it was there
that Tara contacted me many months following the Pulse.  I was surprised
to hear from her, but even more shocked to learn of what had taken place
on Avalon over the course of time.  She was in South America with many
of Magneto's followers, they were trying to reconstruct the fallen
pieces of Avalon and hoping for Magneto's return, but Tara confided in
me that she thought it was unlikely that he could have survived the
crash of the station.

 I urged Tara to return to Fairbanks, offering to send her plane fare,
but she declined.  She had made close friends among Magneto's followers,
and was a devoted student of his vision.  She had found her place with
them, and even seemed to indicate that she was romantically involved
with one of the young men among Magneto's followers.  They would work to
make their own way until Magneto returned, and until that time they
would remember and adhere to what he had taught them.  I made her
promise that she would contact me if she was ever in trouble.

 When I got off the phone with her, I sat alone in the back room of the
store and fought back tears for the ruins of Magnus' dream.  It did not
seem right to me that he could be dead, not after all he had been though
to give his vision life.  But if he was dead, then perhaps it was
better, for he would at last had the peace that had so eluded in while
he lived.

 It wasn't very long after I heard from Tara that Manhattan faced crisis
once again, this time in the form of a being known only as Onslaught.
For days my staff and I set up camp around the television out at my
house, watching the crisis progress while I also fielded calls from
Juneau and colleagues in the States.  The media had very little idea as
to exactly what was going on, just that it involved some villainous
super being that was laying waste to New York, even as various teams of
heros fought it.  Everyone was there, it seemed, the Avengers, Fantastic
Four, and the X-Men.  They pooled their resources and powers in an
attempt to protect the people of the city from the menace.  It seemed as
if they were fighting a losing battle, and the entire world held its
breath awaiting the outcome.

 As the crisis was nearing its climax, one of the CNN camera crews
happened to catch some good shots of the X-Men, and I drew looks from my
staff as I gasped in surprise.

 There he was.  He was somehow younger, and his silvery hair was long
and flowing, but I knew him like I knew myself.  It was Magnus, there
could be no mistake, although CNN seemed unsure as to his identity.  How
he could have been reduced in age, why he was fighting alongside the
X-Men, or why he had not returned to his Acolytes, I could not fathom.
But as the Heros sacrificed themselves for the good of the world, and
the mutants appeared to be somehow responsible for their deaths, I could
only watch Magnus, unable to take my eyes off of him.

 I had complete faith in him, even though I knew the actions of the
X-Men would result in anti-mutant sentiment across the country.  I knew
for certain that Magnus would not participate if it was not absolutely
necessary as a means to defeat Onslaught.  He would not be willing to
sacrifice the lives of so many good people, including his own daughter,
if it were not the last resort.  As the world watched in horror, it was
obvious to me that Magnus was still fighting for his dream, fighting for
that illusive something that always seemed to be just out of his reach.
I could see it in his steel eyes, even across thousands of miles and
through the television screen.  As always, I was enthralled.

 He was beautiful.


    Finis


--
       Jenn the Ice Raptoress - Raptor X
          raptor@eagle.ptialaska.net
"Not long ago, I tried your path.  Now I ask you. . .
  Do you have the courage to do what I have done?
 Are you willing to walk down my path for a time?"
          - Erik Magnus Lehnsherr