Author's Note: Another shortie. Forgivness is implored! But I'm bored outta my wits here, because my RP PARTNER has gone shopping, and now I am rpgless. And bored. So I write. Even though my writing is half-assed and crappay. Le sigh. Oh well, enjoy, if you can.

The figure grabbed on to her wrist, and they were both picked up by a strong gust, flying on to the roof. Lenore screamed bloody murder, struggling and prying at her captor’s hand as if she were being assaulted by a bunch of poisonous snakes. “Get OFF me!” she shrieked.

Suddenly, a considerably softer hand grabbed her other wrist, kicked her assailant backwards, and plummeted toward the ground. Mort held her to his chest protectively, glaring at the figure flying above them. He put Lenore down behind them.

“Come down, you bloody coward!” he howled.

“A pleasure,” the voice was lower pitched now, a darker timbre than before. But Toad could still recognize it anywhere. His blood froze and his innards writhed.

“Storm,” he hissed.

“She’s the one that…?” Lenore squeaked. Mort nodded. “I’ll kill her. I’ll kill her, I swear it,”

“No, luv…let me.” Storm touched down. “Nice hair,” he said. “Did you upset the barber, or did you let some of your little kiddies attack your head with a pair of scissors?” Ororo just sneered, sending a strong gust of wind to buffet him. He jumped above it, taking Lenore with him and depositing her safely in a fire escape. He lunged forward and tackled the witch, pinning her against the ground. His boot lodged over her throat, he smiled. He’d watch her die.

But Storm caught him by surprise. She was better trained now. She spun away, striking him down, but not before he grabbed her wrist, and flung her in to an adjoining alley. He leapt up and grabbed Lenore, bounding for the docks.

She pressed her comm-link. “The man was Toad,” she said. “In disguise. Both are heading due east toward the docks quickly…advised action?”

“Come back here. We will deal with them later.”