The citizens of New York seemed very unimpressed when the fabric of time and space ripped open in front of the Three Dog Bakery, although some were forced to shield their eyes from the magnitude of light emitted from the churning hole. Five bodies came tumbling out onto the concrete walkway and bounced from the force which they were ejected from the aberration.

The nearby hot dog vendor helped pull one of the groaning bodies to his feet only to be shoved away by the skinny man before he ran in the vast sea of the city.

"Hey! Someone stop him!" Another on the ground yelled out only to be meet with the same uncaring attitude of the countless pedestrians. In seconds the man was lost in the collective mass.

"Damnit!" He slammed his fist on the hard ground, ignoring the pain it shot through his wrist. "Is everyone alright?" He added after a second, looking to his companions.

Together they moaned an annoyed 'no' but lifted themselves to their feet nevertheless.

"We have to go after him," He stated, starring off into the distance.

The girl beside him flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder and shrugged, "We got time."

"How do you figure? It only takes a day for him to recharge and it will probably take weeks to track him down."

"Because," A slow smile crept to her face as she pulled something from behind her back, "I broke his little toy."
The dusty hunk of metal steamed in her hand. It was completely mangled.

The shorter girl giggled and nudged her friend's shoulder, "Way to go, girl!"

His face remained stone, but he did nod. His only sign of approval. "Alright," he began, "You bought us time. So where the hell are we?" He directed the second question to the fourth member of the group.

The other boy pulled up the sleeve of his black unitard and studied the device strapped to his entire forearm. "New York," He answered.

"Duh, that much I think we got." the short girl popped her gum.

He narrowed his eyes at her but turned his attention back to the other man, "Year is 2012."

"So we've just gone a few years back in time?" He guessed.

"Nope. The magnetic signature is different too," he corrected him.

The first girl rolled her eyes and let out a heavy sigh, "English, please. How many times do I have to tell you? Speak English."

"Right. We're in a whole other time-stream," he explained but was only meet with blank faces. "We're in an alternate dimension?" He tried again. But the light of ephiany still did not rise in them. "Damnit, I don't know how else to dumb this down!"

"Oh, we get it," the shorter girl informed him, "We just like to see you turn all pink like that." He grumbled under his breathe but said nothing else, which made her break out into giggles again. "Alright, Captain, my Captain, what do we do now?" She asked the other man who was sitting looking off over the countless people walking past them.

"We find out if the mansion exists in this place and we get help."

The first girl groaned, "Why? We can find the little twerp on our own without the fucking drama."

He turned his attention away from his surroundings for the first time and meet her eyes, "No we can't. We have no clue what the hell is in this dimension. How many times do you have to run into shit with your eyes close before you learn think?"

"Okay!" the shorter girl chimed in and stepped between the two, noticing the snarl on the other girl's lips. "Let's find a ride then we can kill each other later, kay?"

The second boy nodded and pulled down his sleeve to again cover his arm. "I'll get a cab," he volunteered.

"Get us in," The leader instructed the short girl. She nodded and they all laid a hand on her shoulders. With a quick flash of silver light they disappeared from their spot outside of the high steel gates only to reappear in the courtyard of the large mansion.

"Well that was too easy," the other boy pointed out.

"Don't move," the deep warning growl came from behind them. Slowly the four turned around, two sets of claws fully extended only inches away from their faces.

"Of course," the brunette groaned and stepped in front of the others. "Listen, we aren't breakin' in or radin' or anything like that, so down boy. We just need to see Xavier."

"You're 'bout five years too late then," Logan practically hissed, his jaw clenched tightly. "Now you little brats are gonna come with me real nice, eh?"

"Logan and New York, both the same in any dimension," the short girl whispered in the other boy's ear.

"What was that?!" Logan snapped causing her to squeak in surprise.

"Nothing! I didn't say anything."

"Right. Move it."

*****

The office was overcrowded with the sheer number of people that was packed into.

"Does anyone else feel like we're back in detention again?" the shorter girl whispered to the others. They were sitting in a line in front of the dark mahogany which Storm was elegantly standing behind.

"There is no reason to be nervous, children, we believe you," her clear, smooth voice assured them.

Logan stood to her right and snorted, "Speak for yourself."

"Are you kidding, this is freakin' awesome! Long lost kids from future times and alternate realities. Lifetime couldn't make up this crap!" Jubilee cheered.

"I'm with Logan. It's probably a trick or something," Bobby was clearly fuming where he stood leaned against the far wall.

"You're just mad because Chava is Kitty's and PETER'S daughter and your butt is left out in the *cold*," Jubilee teased him.

"You don't have an alternate-offspring either," he snapped back.

"Oh, yeah, and I'm REAL bummed about it too," she said sarcastically and rolled her eyes.

"David," Storm stopped their squabbling to address the boy who was still fidgeting with the gadget on his arm, "Our labs will of course be available to you, I'm sure with Hank's help we will be able to fix the device."

"Thanks, Mom," his face quickly reddened when the members of the X-Men gawked at him, "er, I meant Storm." She smiled wide at him and bowed her head.

"This is the most fucked up thing I've ever heard and I can't believe you guys are buying this shit!" Logan bellowed, throwing his arms down.

"I can prove it," the brunette spoke up and narrowed her eyes at him. "Daddy," she added mockingly.

He growled at her and both sets of claws were released from their resting place in his arms, "Don't fucking call me that."

She stood up but did not approach him. Instead she made her way to the back of the room where Marie was quietly standing. "Take off your glove," she instructed her.

"What?" Marie gawked at her.

"The glove, take it off," she repeated. She then softened her voice and added, "Trust me." The girl didn't wait for her to decided and extended her bare hand without hesitation.

Everyone in the room watched them, tension strong in their bodies. Marie starred down at her hand before her eyes shot up to the girl's face, visibly searching for something.

"You don't have to do shit, kid," Logan's voice boomed over to her but she could not take her eyes off the girl's face. Without knowing why she slowly pulled the glove off her right hand. She held it hovering over the girl's.

"Trust me," she repeated quietly to her but made no move of her hand toward Marie's.

Her fingers twitched slightly before she lowered her hand until their bare flesh meet. She braced her head for the flooding of images and personality.

Marie hadn’t realized she even closed her eyes until she had to open them to look at the girl.

“Wha...” she started, completely flabbergasted that nothing happened. When she was again able to look up again she was meet with an all too familiar lopsided grin.

“Rockin’ your world, ain’t I?” The girl’s smirk grew even bigger.

“Holy crap, chica,” Jubilee’s voice was much too loud for the almost deadly silent room. “Why aren’t you sucking her dry?”

“Why wouldn’t she be able to touch her own daughter?” Said the small group’s leader. Several members of the X-Men jumped at the sound of his voice, completely surprised since he hadn’t said anything yet.

Chava slapped him on the arm, “Way to be subtle, Philip.”

“What? I figured that’s what we were doing here, getting all the drama out in the open and out of the way.”

“Rogue and the Wolf-man– are you shitting me?! This keeps getting better and better! I should be writing this stuff down,” Jubilee squeal amazingly got even louder.

“Would everyone stop believing this crap? They’re obviously lying through their teeth,” Bobby whined.

“What would they get out of saying they were related to us?” Kitty finally chimed in, the shock beginning to wear off. Although Peter remained silent in the corner, his eyes never leaving the floor.

“I say prove it. They can all get blood tests,” Bobby suggested.

Chava jumped to her feet then and rounded on him, “I’m not getting a blood test just because you’re pissed that where I came from my mom didn’t pick you!”

“Doesn’t matter, you’re not going to get blood out of Riochet anyway,” David added.

“And that is...?” Storm wondered.

“Oh,”David jerked his thumb to the girl standing beside Marie, “the Wolfette”

“Don’t call her that!” “Don’t call me that!”

“Woah. There’s your blood test right there, Bobby-baby,” Jubilee giggled. The temperature in the room instantly dropped ten degrees.

“He didn’t have to storm off like that,” Kitty mumbled and wrapped an arm around Marie’s shoulders. Logan had all but destroyed the office in his attempt to escape, three gauging claw marks led a trail along the wall all the way to the door. He made it quite clear to everyone how much he didn’t like any of any of it.

The light and happiness that had covered Marie’s face from being able to touch instantly drained when he slammed the door open. She couldn’t help but take his reaction personally. Since he never seemed so opposed to the idea of having children she figured it was that *she* had his children, and evidently made him extremely mad and disgusted. It had only been in recent years she’d broken off the ‘poor Rogue and her unrequited love/crush on the Wolverine’ image that everyone associated with her.

“Forget Logan,” Jubilee was still cackling, “Did you see Bobby sulk after him? Oh, Kitty, I thought your little boyfriend was gonna wet himself.”

“That’s enough,” Storm called out, “Peter, could you please take the boys to their room? And would you three show the girls??”

“Do you have some clothes we can barrow?” Chava asked.

“Yeah, you guys do sort of look like cat burglars or something in those uniforms. Oh. My. God. MALL TRIP!”

“Jubilee, please be gentle with them,” Storm winked at her and made her way out of the room. Before she left however she gently stroked David’s face and nodded at him.

“Um,” Philip spoke up again, his harsh face breaking slightly, “Is, ah, Jean Grey around?”

Kitty, Marie, and Jubilee looked at each other for a second before it was silently confirmed for Kitty to speak up, “Um, she... We lost her a few years ago.”

The three members of his group moved toward him but he shook them off, “It’s fine. Where’s Summers, off saving the world by all by his superhuman self?”

“Oh,” Marie gasped, surprised she hadn’t realized before. He looked so much like him. Suddenly Logan being furious about the idea of them being together didn’t seem as bad as what she was going to have too tell him. “I’m so sorry, sugah,” she started, “but he... We lost him about the same time...”

The muscles in the left side of his jaw clenched a few times. “Phil–" David started but Philip violently shook his head, silencing him. He stood up and threw his chair away and the wood loudly cracked when it collided with the desk. Peter was unable to brace himself when he too was thrown out of the path as Philip stomped out of the room.

“Riochet–" Chava pleaded with her friend.

She sighed, “I’m on it.” She squeezed Marie’s hand again before pulling Peter to his feet and following the path of destruction.

"Hey," Marie whispered quietly, she didn't want to surprise him by sneaking up on him. It was a small ritual they always did even though both knew he could sense her coming.

He swore under his breathe and kept his attention on the wrecked bike in front of him. Hopefully if he ignored her long enough she’d leave. So he left his back to her and kept removing the hanging pieces of plastic that hadn’t ripped off the bike when he crashed.

“Logan, I think we need to talk.” Her footsteps moved closer to him causing him to tightly clench the wrench in his hand.

“I don’t,” his voice was low and gravelly, usually the tone scared her away since evidently ignoring her wasn’t going to work.

Her sigh almost echoed throughout the garage and he could see her out of the corner of her eye jumping up on the hood of one of the cars, her silent signal that she was not going anywhere. “You haven’t been around much these last couple of days,” she informed him, as if he had been completely oblivious to the fact.

“I wouldn’t be here now if the damn bike hadn’t crashed.”

“Looks pretty bad,” she nodded, not wanting to upset him up too much. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

She nodded again and they sat in silence while she watched him continue to tinker with the bike. He was completely cover in dirt and grim with a thick oil overcoat and looked absolutely fabulous to her. With each turn of his wrench the muscles in his forearm seemed to dance under his skin and his shoulders threaten to rip out of the thin cotton covering them. Ricochet had told them that her parents meet on the road and traveled around for a while and then had her. It had only been a few years later that they meet the X-Men and decided to settle down. The other Rogue had managed to do what she couldn’t, snag the Wolverine. Marie wondered if Sabretooth hadn’t attacked and they just kept driving if she’d gotten hers too.

“Are you never going to talk to me again now?” She finally decided he had silently fumed long enough.

“Don’t be stupid. We talked yesterday.”

“‘Get me a beer, kid’ doesn’t count as talking.”

He turned his head to glare at her under his thick eyebrows but the returned back to machine. More than anything he wanted to leave. To just fucking drive away and be done with all this shit but he promised Storm he wouldn’t.

Marie watched him; watched his face, looking for any sign that he was cracking. She just wanted any indication that he was going to stop ignoring her. She waited. She waited till the bike was stripped, till all the oil was drained out, till bent back exhaust pipes had been removed, then she finally snapped.

“God damnit, Logan, what is it that pisses you off so much? What is it?! Is it because she’s a girl and not some future alpha male? Is it because she doesn’t look enough like you, huh? That her hair doesn’t spike up on the sides? Or maybe its not about her. Maybe its that your pissed that you’re an X-Men there too. And you’ve made it perfectly clear how much you resent being one here. Or is it because you got stuck with me? I know, it’s because Scott *still* fucking had Jean. God, Logan.”

She couldn’t help the small strangled chuckle that escaped her. Even with her whole rant he still hadn’t bothered to so much as look at her. She gave him a few seconds to react, to say anything, but he didn’t move, just sat squatting on the floor, wrench in hand.

“Damnit,” she decided to keep going, “You should see Peter with Chava. They’re *always* together. I’ve never seen him this outgoing before. They speak Russian together and he drives her and Jubes anywhere they wanna go and.. and... damnit Logan!” She stopped to wipe her eyes, who were bluntly disobeying her and tearing up. “Don’t you think Ricochet sees it, them together? How the hell do you think that makes her feel? I know she’s not your daughter to you. But you’re her father to her. She knows your face, she grew up with YOUR face. And all you’ve done is been a first class selfish asshole to all of us!”

“You’re right!” he screamed, throwing the wrench down in the tool box. Within one blink he was up and in her face, cold furry shining through his hazel eyes. “She’s NOT my fucking kid! Why the fuck should I have to pay for the mistake of some fuck-off version of me who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants with a god damn kid he fucking picked up? Huh? And don’t give me this holier than thou motherly crap. The only reason you give a shit about her is because you can fucking touch her. Think about that before you go calling someone else a selfish ass!”

She starred at his face in completely shock. His chest was heaving from being out of breathe and he was so close she could feel the heat from his body, not to mention his anger. So many things went running through her head. She wanted to yell at him some more, she wanted to tell him to just fuck-off if that’s how he felt, she wanted to cry, and she wanted to run. But all she could get out was a weak, “I’m not a kid.”

His eyebrow shot up on his forehead at her remark. It didn’t matter than they were in the mist of all this insanity, in the end they always went back to the same tired argument, “Yes you are.”

She sighed and shook her head. “I’m not. And you’re right.”

“How can I be both, darlin’?”

“You’re not right about me being a kid, I’m 25 for goodness sake, but you’re right about it not being your fault that she’s here. But its not HER fault either,” she went with a different tactic.

She jumped slightly when he all but fell forward leaning all his weight on one arm he put right beside her head against the car. He ran his other hand through his hair and she knew that was his small sign of defeat and she almost giggled. Almost. Instead she settled for laying a hand on his shoulder and gently kneading it.

“I’m not Peter,” he said out of the blue, but she seemed to understand his sentiment.

“No, you’re not.”

When Marie left he was able to turn back to his bike, which in his haste to correct her he had knocked over a can of oil that he now had to clean up all over the garage floor. He was actually glad she had the nerve to come find him, he felt a lot better now that he yelled at her. For days he wanted to scream and just rip into her but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, so staying away was just the best. Then she came and found him. It was amazing how she always seem to know what he needed.

He was confused when he heard the footsteps again coming up behind him. They sounded like Marie’s but it didn’t smell like Marie. Which could only mean two things. Either it was Mystique or someone he feared a lot more.

“I think we should talk,” he flinched at the voice. For the few minutes he had been at the mansion during the week Jubilee was constantly teasing him how much the girl acted like him, but evidently she thought just like Marie. He half felt like crying, no man should get two ‘we need to talk’s within the same day. Unsure of what to say he stood up and crossed his arms and just grunted at her.

She cocked an eyebrow at him and he matched her with one of his own. But the Wolverine mannerism stopped right there because she walked over and hoped up on the hood of a car just like Marie did. In fact, it was the same car Marie did; the very same spot. He realized how far in over his head he really was.

“I’m sorry us being here is weird for you.” He could tell by the tone of her voice she wasn’t exactly asking for forgiveness from him. And if she was as much like Marie as she seemed to him he knew there was more to come so he stayed silent.

“We didn’t come here on purpose, you know,” she continued, her dark grey eyes unwaveringly meeting his. “Yeah, this is totally fucked up, I agree. I mean I’m seeing my mom almost the same age as me, Chava has to watch her mom making out with some dude she doesn’t even know while her dad is on the other side of the room. And David, well, him and Storm kinda feel right back into cynic, but they’ve always been weird like that. And Phil, fuck, Phil is dealing with reliving his mom’s death all over again and now his dad on top of it so I think you can handle being a little less of a candy-ass.”

He was impressed how not scared of him she was. No one had ever called him a candy ass before, let alone a girl a third of his size. He looked her over, she wasn’t very tall but neither was he or Marie. Now that he got a good look at her face he could find no argument that she was Marie’s. Her hair, her skin, her lips, her cheeks- all exactly like Marie’s. Her eyes unsettled him though, they weren’t warm and welcoming brown, they were dark and cold. He mentally sneered at himself ‘like his’.

“You got guts, kid,” he winced at the sound of the word, it didn’t feel right saying it. He hoped it would be the peace flag between them but flinching when he said it probably didn’t help his case.

“Listen,” she began, her face completely serious, “I know you aren’t my dad. So I’ll make you a deal. I won’t come running to you with a tummy ache if you don’t make me eat my vegetables.”

He smirked and nodded. Again he looked her over and his heart nearly stopped at what hung around her neck. “Where... where’d you get that?” He stammered out.

Her hand shot up to tightly clench the chain hanging around her neck. “My dad gave it to me.”

“Can I see it?” It felt stupid asking to see his own dog tags; tags he hadn’t seen in almost seven years.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but his face did not hide how needy he was, which was unusual for him. Slowly she pulled them over her head and down her long chocolate hair. He held his hand out and tried to keep if from shaking, but he was unsuccessful. As soon as the metal hit his hand his thumb moved along the familiar embossing.

“He was, um, in the army for a long time.”

“Yeah,” was all he could say, his eyes not leaving the tag. He couldn’t help but note even the damn numbers were the same. “He gave them to you?” Logan knew how much the tags meant and was slightly surprised the other guy hadn’t given them to his Marie. Hell, he did and they weren’t even an item.

She smiled, which for some reason settled his beating heart a little bit. “When I joined the team,” she explained, “He said he wanted the bad guys to know who would be coming after them if anything happened to me.”

He laughed, because Marie would say that it sounded just like him. But for the life of him he couldn’t think of what he would say if he had to see his daughter run out onto a battlefield. She bowed her head and he willingly slipped the tags back on. They weren’t his tags, as much as he missed them. They were the other guy’s and he evidently wanted them to stay right there.

“So, what kind of a name is Ricochet?” he lightly pushed her shoulder, although he knew she wouldn’t get the joke.

But she surprised him when he answered, “He said the same thing when I picked it out.”

The tension in the air was easing and he left the bike to lean against the car beside her. This wasn’t as bad as he thought. She wasn’t completely unbearable.

“How’s the other kid holding up?”

Her head turned to face him, “Who? Oh, Phil. Yeah, he’ll be okay. He just got a little excited when he saw all of you. He thought, you know, he might be able to see him mom again or something. And then no Mr. Summers either. It sucks.”

He nodded, “Yeah, it was one fucked up week we had.”

“You and mama really love each other.”

“What?!” he pushed off the car to face her, his face turned completely white.

She just shrugged at him, “It’s what you want to ask me, isn’t it?”

“Has, um, Rogue asked you a lot about it?” He figured there was no point in acting nonchalant at this point, evidently the girl had the same talent as Marie to look right through him.

She snorted, “Duh. Actually, that Jubilee chick is a lot more curious. She’s, um, a lot, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she’s a lot, alright. So your dad and your mom, they go good together?” Asking made him feel like a fifteen year old boy, as if he was just waiting for his voice to crack.

“Do they go good together, hm... Well, if my four little brothers are any indication then yeah, ya’ll go good together.”

He coughed like he was choking, though there was nothing but air in his mouth, “Five kids?”

“Yep,” she smirked, clearly entertained by the distressed look on his face, “Mr. Summers likes to call them ‘the pack’. They’re a lot younger then me though, so I don’t get included in the pranks n’ stuff.”

Shit, he was starting to think maybe he hadn’t done the right thing by not jumping Marie back when they meet. He cost himself the kind of life he always dreamed of having. He had always figured he couldn’t have it, not with his past or lack there of. But the other Logan evidently had the same kind of past but still had two beautiful girls to protect and four little boys to cause havoc with.

“Anyway,” she dragged him out of his inner deliberation and the car shifted when she jumped off of it, “I told Rogue I’d meet her and the other girls, Peter’s gonna drive us into the city.”

The mention of Peter brought him back to the conversion he had with Marie not ten minutes ago. “Hey if you ever need anything I can–“ He stopped when she patted his shoulder.

“It’s alright,” she assured him, “the deal, remember? Lets stick to it.”

“Wait!” He called out to stop her right before she went out the door. “I didn’t really make you eat your vegetables, did I?” He had no clue what he would be like as a dad, but he couldn’t imagine he’d give too shits about vegetables.

“No,” she smirked, “But that’s okay, I don’t get tummy aches.” She winked and left him to his bike.

She should have been able to run faster since she was phasing through anything that landed in her path. But the thick fog of debris that hung in the air from all the explosions going on around her made vision impossible. She could feel them still chasing her and not being able to see them made her beyond paranoid. Why they were ganging up on her she didn’t know, she figured they’d try to take out the strongest first. But ever since the world ‘go’ she felt like she became the instant mouse in this sick cat trap game.

Not hearing the heavy stomping that had been following her she risked a look behind her. So far she’d been ten steps ahead of all of them but that one mistake ended up being the end for her. Not watching the front of her, her shins collided with the wooden beam that was sprawled out across her path. She went flying to the ground and landed hard on not the ground but something else. She flinched when the ‘boom’ resounded in her ears.

“Kitty, you’re dead,” Logan’s voice was ominous in the air.

“Dangit!” she jumped up to her feet. The brick wall in front of her cracked and groaned until a door appeared. She walked into the control room and sat beside David.

Huffing her crossed her arms over her chest and pouted, “This whole Battle Royal thing sucks.”

Logan turned his head slightly from the view screen so that she could see the look he gave her then went back to watch the various fights happening in the Danger Room.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Marie said from the other side of David, “I was out in like, two seconds. Everyone made SURE all their skin was covered before we even started.”

“How long you gonna whine about this, kid?” Logan teased, though he kept his eyes on the action.

“Until my mutation kicks ass too.”

“Yeah well I was out before either of you,” David pointed out, although he didn’t look very upset about it.

“How did that happen anyway?” Kitty asked him, “I mean, you turn invisible, right? You could have just hid somewhere till everyone else was out.”

“I didn’t exactly *mean* to step in front of Bobby’s ice blast. Which technology wouldn’t have killed me,” he said to Logan.

“If it’d been the Brotherhood it’da killed ya." Logan pressed the intercom button, "Hey, Yellow. You’re out!”

“Kitty!” Jubilee shrieked as soon as she stepped into room, “That little brat of yours transported me right into a damn mine!”

“Good.” Kitty stuck her tongue out at her.

Marie tried to tune out her friends’ continued bickering but it escalated into high pitched name calling. She patted David’s knee, who was covering his ears with his hands, and stood up and slowly made her way to Logan standing in front of the window. Leaning against his side she lightly rubbed his back with her left hand.

“How’s she doing?” she asked quietly, making sure the others couldn’t hear.

“Who?” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, making sure to keep one on the Danger Room.

“You know who,” Marie grinned on him.

His face cracked a little bit, the corner of his mouth twitching up slightly, “Good. She’s doin’ real good.” She nodded and tried to search the destroyed city for some sign of her. All she saw was Peter throwing rubble around and the occasional silver light that accompanied Chava’s movements.


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

She sat crouched behind the rumble of a concrete wall watching the silver sprite flashing across the war zone. Her strategy so far had been just to avoid the attacks they were throwing out willy-nilly at the beginning and just let the competition wipe themselves out. But now she was bored and the game had officially last too long. Slowly she eased one of her daggers out of her knee high boots and held it in anticipation.

The flash appeared a foot in front of her and she sprang. Grabbing the girls arm she threw her against the wall she had been hiding behind and pressed the knife against her throat before she was even able to scream.

“Dead,” Ricochet smirked at her.

“Chava, you’re out,” Logan’s distant voice affirmed her claim.

Chava pushed the other girl off her playfully before going through the door that appeared out of a dumpster to her right.


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

All the guy had done was throw ice shards at him. And they were pretty sharp too except for his aim was completely crap and he just sprayed them in any general direction, so dodging them was beyond easy.

Philip could see how all the attacks were tiring the Iceman out and he couldn’t help but wonder if he would melt or not. But he decided he didn’t have the time to wait because the calls of hits where coming more often from over head and he figured there couldn’t be too many players left in the game. Beside him a down power line laid on the ground and a smile spread to his lips. He picked it up, using his mutation to keep the electricity away from his body.

Bobby’s eyes widen and he turned to run but made three steps before the thick black wire slammed into the side of his body and wrapped twice around his mid-section.

“You’re dead, Ice-cube,” Logan called out through the intercom system.

Bobby turned to glare at the boy who responded by saluting him before running off and disappearing into the rubble.

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


“Tell me what the hell we’re supposed to get out of this?” Bobby sneered and sat beside Kitty, making sure to wrap an arm around her waist when he saw how close Marie was pressed against Logan.

“Don’t start bitchn’ now, Drake. I was starting to think you were doing alright,” Logan turned around then. His face was light and happy and his arm was nonchalantly laid across Marie’s shoulders.

“You just like watching us all get our ass kick,” Jubilee accused him.

“You got me there.” Logan admitted, “But, you’re also supposed to be learning something.”

“Like what?” Bobby sneered.

“Drake you got to think about stamina and making a damn hit, you didn’t take anyone out. Kitty, you need to be more confident. You took your self out, for fucks sake. David, you weren’t watching were you were going, which is dumb as shit in the middle of a fight. Chava, you fucking transported so fast and all over the place you didn’t know where the hell your head was anymore. Jubilee you let yourself get distracted, go figured,” Logan snorted.

“You didn’t tell Rogue how she screwed up,” Kitty pointed out.

“Kid,” he stared, hugging her tightly to him, “You fucked up big time. You ran around like a chicken with you head cut off till Philip was nice enough to take you out of your misery. It really was painful for me and little David over there to watch.”

“I’m not little!” David yelled.

Marie however went for elbowing him in the gut. He ‘humpf’ in pain, but there was still a smile all over his face.

“Sorry, darlin’, but I call ‘em like I see ‘em.” He grinned at her; the one he knew always made her blush. It had been a couple of days since their yelling match in the garage and things between them weren’t weird anymore. In fact they were a lot easier now then they’ve ever been. Now if he got the urge to touch her he didn’t feel like he needed to suppress it, else it’d make him a perverted bastard. And she wasn’t as nervous or embarrassed around him anymore, just kind of relaxed, which only made him want to touch her all the more.

The door slid open and they all jumped. Philip step through, rubbing his back. He looked up to find questioning eyes looking him over.

“Ricochet threw me off a roof,” he explained with a groan and carefully eased into the closest empty chair.



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

Colossus was providing a bigger problem then she thought he would. She never had to actually fight him before; at home he almost never trained with the team. She watched as Philip threw everything he had at him and only managed to knock him off his feet for a while. Of course she took the opportunity to get rid of him while his attention was else where.

Already she had emptied three clips from her gun and swore each time the bullets bounced off his metallic skin and he never so much as flinched. She was out of distance ammunition and now she was left with nothing but close range attacks.

“Ahh!!” she screamed jumping out of the knocked out dark window and grabbed him around the neck. He tried to reach behind him to grab her but his large, bulky arms couldn’t bend that far. Pulling out one of her dagger from under her shirt she rammed it as hard as she could into the space between his neck and his shoulder blade but the end of her knife only bent back, not even scratching his armor.

Peter was finally able to reach around his waist and grab her ankle. He threw her off of him where she landed ten feet away in a pile of wooden crates.

“Fuck!” She snarled and lifted to her feet, kicking the scraps of wood away from her. She had three knives left, not that it mattered, they were completely useless. The ground around her trembled slightly with his approach and she search around her for some kind of escape.

Her mind made up she jumped and grabbed the flag pole hanging just above her head. Using her body weight she swung around it and into the window just above, disappearing into building.




He was amazed at the rate she was moving, the only clue he had that she was still even in the room with him was that he occasionally saw her jumping out of windows from one building into another. There was no point chasing her, at some point she’s come to him, it was the only way she could win.

Suddenly it got very quiet in the simulation. With only the two of them left the others weren’t landing on land mines or setting of any of the other booby-traps making it dead silent. He stomped around, keeping his eyes on the windows around him figuring that’s where she’s come out of.

“Ugh,” he grunted when something heavy collided with the back of his head. He jerked around but his forehead clenched in confusion. There was absolutely no one behind him. Waiting, he watched the surrounding windows but there was no sign of movement. He took a step forwards only to have something else hit him from the opposite direction.

Again he turned and there was nothing or no one, aside from the two chunks of concrete now lying at his feet. From the beginning this had all been just a game to him but now that she had literally tried to stab him and cave his head in twice his was starting to tire of it.

Then he heard it, the tiny squeak of wood to his left. Wanting to end the game he marched over there and ripped the door of its hinges, expecting to see a scared little girl behind it. Instead a heavy sand bag swung toward him and exploded as soon as it collided with his face.

The dirt debris stuck to his eyeballs blinding him and he coughed vigorously to try and dislodge the particles that went down his throat when he foolishly gasped in surprise. He managed to stumble out of the doorway of the building back into the street but still couldn’t see anything. In his head he cursed her in Russian; if he’d known she’d take the game this far he would have just forfeited.

As soon as he was out in the open something else heavy collided into the side of him. Furious he roared and ripped it off of him, throwing it as hard as he could. He heard it plough through the solid brick walls of the opposite building and braced himself for whatever she was going to throw at him next.


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

"No!" the strangled scream escaped Logan's throat before he had a chance to stop it. Beside him he could hear Marie crying out something similar.

Willing his heart out of his throat, he slammed his hand down on the emergency abort button. The door wouldn't open fast enough; panic was being to over take him. Pushing against the heavy metal doors he willed them to open faster and as soon as they allowed enough room he squeezed through.

"Ricochet!" He yelled running up to the center of the street.

Peter gawked at him in confusion, "Logan, what are you..." He couldn't get the sentence out because Logan had grabbed him around the neck and thrown him across the street.

"What the fuck is the matter with you, tinman?!" He snarled and Peter could only blink at him, it was obvious he was completely lost.

Frantically Logan ran over to the pile of rubble and began throwing bricks away, not caring which way they went. With each chunk his 'come on, come on' plea became louder and more desperate.

Just as he stretched to grab another piece the whole pile shifted. A small hand came up, throwing rocks away.

Ricochet sat up, dirt sliding off her body. She rubbed the backed of her head before shrugging, "Ow?"

Air once again rushed into Logan's lungs and he reached a hand out to her, "Holy shit, are you alright?! Don't move, I'll go get Hank."

"Oh, please," she groaned and pushed away the remaining rumble that kept her from getting to her feet. Before she could so much as brush the clinging grim off her uniform she found herself tightly gripped in Marie's arms, hands running all over her.

"Are you okay? Oh my god," Marie ended by sticking with the 'oh my god' chant as she checked her for injury and blood stains.

Timidly Peter approached, mindful of staying a good two feet away from Logan, "I'm so sorry, I…I didn't know it was her. I thought…”

"Save it, Rasputin," Logan snarled. "I suggest you get the fuck out of here before I rethink not gutting you."

He nodded, holding his hands up in peace, and backed away towards the door. Then he decided he'd better and another "sorry" for good measure before he left.

"I'm fine!" Ricochet huffed, pushing Marie's hands away from her. Once she was clear of the vast amounts of rumble she pushed Logan's shoulder hard. "Why the fuck did you call it? I almost had him!"

His eyebrows shot together. "You didn't have shit!" He yelled, his heart now beginning to feel the strain from the rapid shift of emotions. "You were fucking thrown through a god damn brick wall! The only thing you had was a god damn death wish!"

"Hello?" she pushed him again, "Mutant here!"

He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, "Oh yeah? And what's your fucking mutation? Cause I sure as hell don't see no layer of bubble wrap around you. Not fucking yet any way!"

One eyebrow shot up on her forehead as she stared at him. Then suddenly she broke out into laughter, "You're threatening to wrap me in bubble wrap? Are you kidding me?" The look on his face however let her know that he was not at all kidding her and her laughter instantly died out. She forgot that he didn't know what she was capable of, since that was the one of the points of this little exercise. Looking at his face she felt bad that she scared him. And risking a look behind her at Marie she felt even worse.

"I'm sorry," she began. "You can keep your bubble wrap. I swear I'm fine. Ricochet? Means 'bounces back'..." She searched his face for understanding but he only frowned at her more. Sighing she continued, "I don't get hurt. You know, like you heal. Except I don't get hurt in the first place."

"You can't get hurt? That great!" Marie cheered and again grabbed her tightly in a hug.

"Well, not exactly," Ricochet admitted, "I *can* get hurt, it just takes a hell of a lot. Trust me, *a lot* more than a little brick wall."

Logan looked her over just to double check for any sign of injury, but her story seemed to hold up. Besides being dirty, she looked fine. In fact it was Marie desperately clinching to the girl that looked like she was in the worst shape. Secure in the knowledge that she was okay he allowed himself to be proud of her and how she handled herself in the simulation. Someone taught her some very advance maneuvers. Even he had a hard time keeping track of her with all the video surveillance equipment.

"Wow," Marie's wistful voice brought him out of his memory, "No pain, and no injuries. Man, why can't I have a kiss ass mutation?"

Unwinding Marie’s hands away from her Ricochet took a step back. "Oh, there's pain alright. I feel everything anyone else would feel. Like right now I feel like I've just been thrown through a brick wall. So I'm going to go hit the showers and then lie down." She smiled what she hoped would be reassuringly and made her way towards the door.

Marie watched her leave and couldn't help herself from once again going over to Logan and leaning up against him. When his hand came up to rest on her shoulder she completely relaxed into his arms letting the tension drain out of her. She could hear the others talking and leaving but she didn't want to move. She was content right where she was. Logan, on the other hand, must have had a different thought because he started walking, although not really pulling away from her.

"Where are you going?" She asked but tried to keep from sounding too needy.

"To go get some fucking bubble wrap," he growled.

“I miss Putin,” Chava whined. She hugged Kitty’s stuffed bear tighter to her, letting the soft faux fur rub against the side of her face. She was on the other side of the room from Philip and Ricochet, sitting sideways in the plush, floral printed arm chair. The other two were stretched out on the bed, him on his back and her on her stomach.

“I really don’t want to hear you crying about your damn cat again,” Ricochet groaned.

“Yeah, well, I don’t care what you want to hear about!” she snapped back at her. She clenched the bear even close, her bottom lip quivering slightly.

Philip was not listening to either girl. He starred up at the ceiling, his arms crossed behind his head. Chava’s whining, a noise he was used to, was more like a fly buzzing in the back ground. And his body acknowledged Ricochet’s hand on his elbow, although he didn’t really feel it.

“You’re 20 years old, for fuck’s sake. I think you can handle a little separation from that stupid cat.”

“What does my age have anything to do with my emotional attachment to another living creature?”

“Who the hell talks like that? ‘Emotional attachment to another living creature.’ Just say what you’re thinking- You love your little Putin-Poo,” Ricochet teased in a baby voice and pouted.

“What the hell is their problem anyway?” Philip suddenly interrupted.

The two girls looked at him, then to each other, and then back at him.

“Uh, Phil, who are you taking about?” Chava asked.

“The X-Men, here,” he elaborated, “Why the hell couldn’t we go on the mission? I mean, I’m the fucking squad leader. They were acting like we’ve never even been on a mission before.”

Ricochet grinned and lightly shoved his chest, “Only a Summers would complain about a vacation.”

“This is not a vacation.” He quickly said. Then he sat up so he could look sternly at both of them, “This is a mission. *Our* mission. We’ve been here for almost three weeks now and we haven’t done shit. We have to find Brainwave.”

Chava shrugged, “Why? We have his machine.”

“His broken machine,” Philip corrected.

“Aw, come on,” Ricochet stretched out and propped her feet up on his lap, “David can fix it. And that big ol’ blue guy, whatever his name is, he’s always down there. That’s gotta mean he’s making some progress.”

“Or it means he’s *not* making any process and he’s desperately working on it because he can’t wait to get rid of us,” Chava’s face paled.

Ricochet cocked an eyebrow at her. “Paranoid much?”

“Both of you shut up. If they don’t want to do anything, then whatever. But starting tomorrow- we’re finding Brainwave.”

“Won’t that make them mad?” Chava wondered, “Us going behind their back like that?”

“Who the fuck cares?” the volume of his voice jumped.

“Right! Who the fuck cares?” Ricochet nodded but Philip frowned at her, noticing her obvious sarcasm.

“I’m serious,” he practically snarled. “We’re finding him, forcing the little shit to fix that damn thing and going home. I’m tired of this fucked up reality.”

“Aw, Philly-" Chava frowned at him.

“First, don’t call me ‘Philly’. Second, shut the hell up. We need to figure out when fucking night-stalker Logan *isn’t* in the Danger Room and get in some real training time.”

Immediately after the words left his mouth the door opened. But instead of the burly Wolverine, whom they all unconsciously expected, the much smaller David stepped in. He was fidgeting with the vast amounts of native jewelry that always hung around his neck when he looked up he saw the six wide eyes.

“What?” He asked confused.

Chava loudly sighed, her hand covering her heart, “You freaking scared me! You, your dad, and Logan, I never hear any of you coming! Jeez, wear some clogs or bells or something.”

He narrowed his eyes at her before shutting the door behind him, catching the drift that this was a ‘team only’ kind of discussion. Pulling out the chair at the desk he swung one leg around it and sat down, leaning over the back, “What’s up?”

“Have you figured out how to fix the machine?” Philip went straight to the point.

The boy snorted then shook his head, “No. I can’t even tell which way is up on that thing. And I’m tired of looking at it.”

“You can’t figure it out? Your dad is like a physics genius or something,” Chava’s voice began to crawl up the whining scale again.

“So? Your dad can cover himself in iron. And I don’t expect *you* to be an expert in that particular skill.”

“Its not iron...”

Ricochet rolled over on her back, replacing the tags that had fallen past her shoulder to their rightful place on her chest. She readjusted her feet in Philip’s lap and punched the pillow under her head twice until she was once again manage to find a comfortable position. “Alright, so you can’t fix it. What does that mean?”

“It means we find Brainwave, like I said,” Philip spoke up.

“Ugh!” Chava turned in her chair and stomped her foot on the ground. “But me and Peter have plans to go into the city and go the ballet.”

“The ballet?” Ricochet snorted, “Maybe your dad’s not exactly straight in this reality.”

“Excuse me. The Russian ballet is both art and physically demanding. And I DARE you to tell him that to his face. By the way, how many bottles of Advil have to downed since yesterday?” the short girl smirked at her.

Ricochet glared at her but was silenced from saying anything further by Philip, “I don’t give a shit if he told you he was taking you to the god damn mother land. We’re going after Brainwave, discussion over.”

“Well, well. Someone’s ‘leadership pants’ are getting a little tight aren’t they?”

“No. My 'leadership pants' fit just fine. It’s your ‘boy genius pants’ that evidently aren’t the right size anymore.”

“Now, see,” Chava stuck her finger out at him, “The metaphor worked alright with him, but you over did it a little, Philly.”

He gritted his teeth and tightly clenched his eyes closed. Anger, frustration, annoyance, all were backing up on him. “Fifteen years I’ve been telling you to stop calling me that. Fifteen years. Keep it up and I’m going to start adding laps to your workout.”

“‘Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely’- the great Lord Acton,” David quoted, shaking his head at the other boy.

“Yeah, well, form a union.”

“You forgot ‘and bite me’.” Ricochet smirked.

He flicked her foot then added, “And bite me.”

“Quite mature. Anyway, if we’re going into full mission mode then I’m going to go enjoy my evening, trip to the city?” David suggested and looked between them for a sign of agreement.

But before any of them could answer the door opened again and four instead of three people jumped in surprise. However this time it wasn’t eased open, but instead the wood quickly jerked out of the way and Logan was immediately in the room. The leather of his uniform was still slicked with sweat and grim. He scanned the room, eyeing them all, then cocked an eyebrow at the shocked and guilty look covering their faces.

“I have to tell you something...” he started, though remained weary, his mind left the topic he originally came for. Now he just wanted to know what the hell was up.

“The floor is all yours, Big Wolfy” Chava winked at him. He turned his head to glare at her. But then she noticed where he was looking and quickly hid the stuff animal behind her. Her attitude instantly died into embarrassment and she coughed to cover up the quick transition.

“Anyway,” He looked back to the others, “I got a surprise for you little rug rats. We found that little scrawny dude you were talking about, evidently he’s with Magneto now.”

“Magneto?...” David searched his head for some memory of the name. It sounded very familiar to him, but for some reason he couldn’t pin point it.

“Yeah. He’s an old, metal twisting fuck head.”

“Oh!” Ricochet chuckled slightly, “You mean Uncle Eric. This is great! So everything is taken care of?”

Logan visibly flinched when she said the words and rubbed his forehead. “I never, NEVER, better hear you call him ‘Uncle Eric’ again, is that clear? What the fuck kinda world did you brats come from? Magneto is not a good guy. In fact, he’s on top of the Kill Instantly, Asshole list. We have to get that straight immediately if ya’ll are going to be here. And he said that Brain fucker wants his gadget back, and he’s more than willingly to help, so prepare for some serious shit.”

“We’re always prepared for serious shit.” The challenge was clear in Philip’s tone, but Logan made himself ignore it. He purposely tried to avoid the boy. It was like being in the same room with him was, well, just wrong. The kid seemed to not have a problem with it. If he wasn’t with the other three he just stayed to himself completely.

“Good.” He couldn’t help the warning growl, however.

“Right!” David jumped up from his chair, eager to release the tension building in the tiny room. “I’m going to go see who else wants to come with us tonight.”

“Oh, I’m coming with you!” Chava quickly jogged the three steps over to him and grabbed his hand, desperately trying to leave as well. The two of them all but ran out of the room, flashing Logan timid smiles as they pushed past him to get through the door.

Philip, Logan, and Ricochet remained in the now completely silent room. Both guys were looking at each other, judging each other– sizing the other up. Ricochet looked from one to the other, uncertain if she should step between them. Instead she remained back because technically there was nothing to step between.

When the seconds began to eat away at her like hours she decided to react, afraid for her own sanity if the silence continued. Slowly she lifted to sit up, Philip helped by steading her arms until she was completely upright.

“Um, Phil, why don’t you help David pick a location so we don’t end up spending the entire night at some art museum?” She suggested and made sure her eyes clearly read that she didn’t care what he did, as long as left the room.

He frowned at her then looked backed to Logan for one last glare. Logan in response crossed his arms over his chest and took one step to the left, making the doorway open for him. Philip nodded at her and got off the bed. Neither guy looked at the other when he walked past him and out the door.

“So,” Ricochet smiled, “mission go well?”

“Saved some whiny humans. Clawed Sabertooth up for a little bit. Same old, same old.”

“Good.” She nodded and glanced at the clock on the wall out of the corner of her eye.

“So what’s the deal with you and Summers jr.?”

That caught her attention and her eyes widen at him, “Deal? What deal? There’s no deal.”

“His hand was on your ankle.”

She rolled her eyes and got off then bed, making her way to the other side of the room. “His hand was on my ankle? I see what you mean. Damn, Logan, maybe I should take a pregnancy test.”

He uncrossed his arms and took a look into the hall way to check and make sure no one was out there. When he was sure the coast was clear he raised his voice slightly, “You can keep your attitude and shit, I don’t need it. You two were on the god damn bed together and his hand was inside your fucking pant leg.”

Anger was now beginning to well up in her and her cold eyes leveled with his. “You know, this sounds like a ‘eat your vegetables’ talk and I believe we agreed that was outside your responsibilities.”

“Then you should thank me. I’m doing it for free.”

“Well then, you can thank me. ‘Cuz me telling you 'to fuck off, I’m going out with my friends’ is free too.” She jerked her jacket off the closet doorknob and stormed past him, making sure to violently collide with his shoulder on her way out.

Logan remained in the door way, just standing there staring off into space. After a few seconds he shook his head and swore “Fuck!” And marched out of the room, slamming the door so hard behind him it bounced four times against its frame.

She let the cold ice-cream melt in her mouth and slowly run down her throat, relishing its thick, smooth texture and the comforting feeling of it coating the inside of her. The silence of the mansion seemed to almost heighten her senses. The taste was stronger than she remembered, the Vanilla nearly surrounded her. And the feel of it in her mouth! It was so blissful a small moan hummed in her throat and she didn’t dare risk distracting from the feeling by even licking the spoon that temptingly was dripping in front of her face.

Suddenly her peaceful heaven was interrupted by a loud crash. She opened one eye, reluctant to end her fantasies, to find Logan now in the kitchen with her. The noise had been him slamming the fridge door shut; now a beer bottle was clenched in his red knuckled hand. He followed up his first crash with three quick others. A bang for each drawer as it reconnected with the cabinet, the clanging of utensils inside almost a melody compared to the sound.

He wiped around, his face red and his nostrils flaring, finally acknowledging her presence, “Where the fuck is the god damn bottle opener?!”

A long, heavy sigh escaped her and she licked the spoon, submitting to the return of reality. “In the drawer by the pantry, sugah, where it’s always been.”

Grunting, he strode over there, his feet swallowing the kitchen floor in his haste. He yanked the drawer open, threw several things on the counter, then finally finding what he was so desperately searching for. The cap was ripped from the top of the bottle and sent flying, forgotten, onto the floor. The opener was thrown back into the drawer, barely settled before the drawer was again knocked closed, the unwanted devices still scattered on the counter.

“Logan, what’s wrong?” she asked her eyes focused on his Adam apple, mesmerized by the way it moved under his skin as he downed the beer gulp after gulp.

He glared at her for a minute, his hazel eyes searching, almost accusing. When he walked over to her, slow and calculated, she assumed he finally calmed down; the kitchen could stop suffering for whatever was bothering him. But it ended up being a false sense of security because his bottle violently connected with the top of the island, millimeters away from her hand. She was awed that it still remained whole in his grip.

“It’s the brat,” he huffed.

Covertly she slid her hand across the island, away from him, but not wanting to anger him further. “What brat? You’re going to have to be a little more specific, there’s a lot of those running around here. It being a school n’all.”

“*Your* brat,” he hissed, returning the bottle to his lips. His eyes still screamed out her blame.

“My brat? I don’t have a brat. Single and bratless.”

“You know what I mean.”

Her mouth twitched unconsciously into a small grin. The fact that she and Logan had a child together still made her feel giddy, even though she wasn’t technically involved. She loved it even more when he *acknowledge* the fact that they had a child.

“Okay, okay, what happened?”

“You should have fucking seen them, Marie. On the bed together, his hand INSIDE her fucking pants. Like it was nothing. What the fuck did Scooter teach him anyway? You would think as big of a pansy as he was he’d tell his damned son to keep his fucking hands to himself!”

She mentally thanked God that most of the mansion left twenty minutes ago because he was making no effort to temper his voice. Or his anger for that matter. “Please tell me you didn’t tell her to stay away from a boy.”

“No I didn’t fucking tell her to stay away from the little shit. She wouldn’t let me get that damn far! I ask one god damn question and she fucking snaps at me and throws a damn fit. She told me to fuck off then stormed out of the room, Marie. Brat.” He added the last part, shaking his head and downed another mouth full of his Molson’s.

Marie groaned and rubbed her forehead, “You can’t tell a girl stuff like that! Forget that it’s just completely wrong in principle for a second. You’re not her father, sugah; you can’t control her, especially with things like this.”

“Fuck!” he yelled, his sharp canine teeth now visibly showing, “I get bitched at when I don’t act like her fucking father and now I’m getting bitch at *for* at like a god damn dad. You need to make up your fucking mind, kid! Either I ignore her or I don’t. But I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let that little brat yell at me like that again! So what do I do, huh? What do you want from me, Marie? Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it, I swear, but I will not let some smartass, half-pint, hybrid version of me just walk the fuck all over me!”

Completely stunned, Marie sat in silence; her mouth gapped open in a small ‘o’. The fact that he was waiting for an immediate answer when she was having a very hard time with any brain function at all made it worse. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what she wanted. But more importantly she didn’t understand why it mattered what she wanted, especially to him.

“I’m sorry...” She didn’t know what she was apologizing for; it just felt like the words had to be out there in the air somewhere. Whether or not they were for now, future arguments, or past mistakes she didn’t know either.

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” Logan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Tightly he clenched his eyes shut, trying to fight back against the headache that was welling up inside his head. “I... I just don’t want to screw this up, her up. The other Logan, he fucking worked hard to get what he has, I just know he did. And I don’t want to ruin it for him. I want to return her to him just like I got her or whatever, you know?”

He set the beer down and moved to the other side of the island, to her. She straightened up on the stool, willing her nerves to calm down as he approached. But before she had them convinced her face was in his hands, her thick hair the only barrier between them.

“You always know what to do,” He began again, in a deep, low whisper that had the same effect on her ears that the ice-cream had on her throat only minutes ago. “Please, Marie, don’t let me screw this up, too, like I do everything else. Tell me how to make him proud of me, not regret that his only daughter ever crossed my path.”

She knew her eyes were welling up slightly and she felt like an emotional idiot for it. But he was so serious; it hurt to see the Wolverine eyes beg at her like that. She wanted to tell him he’s never screwed anything up, that he should just be himself, that no matter what she was proud of him, and a million different other things.

None of that came out, however, just a quiet, quivering, “You’re perfect.”

His was thrown off by her statement, his eyes widened, shocked. Then they narrowed, gently, searching her face. He looked over every line; one of his thumbs beginning to softly move over the white strands caught beneath it, stroking her temple. Everything was studied, her cheeks, her forehead, her nose- her eyes. She was slightly intimidated by the connection his eyes were forming with hers but she could not find the power to pull away or even so much as blink. Her next thought was to hide, give him the strong persona she knew he wanted to see in her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that either. So instead she left herself open, let all her weakness, her pathetic desires, dreams, and fears show. She even didn’t stop the small tear that escaped, although it didn’t move down her face.

When his eyes let hers go, she tried to remember to breathe. But he wasn’t done. Now he was reading her lips, his breath slow and heavy as well. He lowered, moving closer to her, and she was lost in the all encompassing feeling of him. It was as if he was swallowing her whole in a warm, dark cocoon.

Both of their eyes closed at the same time, two heartbeats before he his lips brushed against her in a light, almost ghostly kiss. He pulled back a few inches and she thank God. The bare touch left her senses completed scrambled, making the whole world flood into where his lips meet hers. Now she hoped he regained his common sense and stayed back because she was way to far gone to push him away.

But he didn’t, instead he moved in faster, this time seizing her lips. One of his hands moving from the side of her face to the back of her head and pushing her even harder to him. She whimpered against him both from the feeling he was causing in her and fear of hurting him. Because even if she could move out of his embrace, she wasn’t going to. There was no rush of memories from him to her, even though she could feel the pull. Anything that came from him held no candle to the sheer intensity of her own emotions.

Unable to hold on anymore he fell against her, his heavy body pinning her against the island. His ragged, labored breath was hot on her neck and her heart sped up even more from the caress, wether or not he was doing it on purpose.

“Logan,” she said his name, a half moan, half plea.

“I’m fine,” he quickly grunted, wanting to end any self-blame she might have about hurting him before it even started. “Just... just give me a second.” What he really wanted to do was prove it, but he couldn’t make his body move. There was no energy left in any of his muscles, though they managed tiny seizures from the intense pain surging through them. The funny thing was that the only part of him that didn’t hurt is where they actually touched.

Her lips buzzed and they were not content when his left them. So she feathered kisses on the side on his head, the softness of his hair against her lips served as a suitable replacement. He purred low in his chest in approval.

“Logan,” she tried again this time purposely whispering the word into his ear. He purred again and trembled against her and she applauded herself for her bravery.

Slowly he used the edge of the counter to push off of her and instead leaned his weight on it beside her. “What did I come in here for again?”

Marie laughed, “Get a beer, rant about your DNA twin’s ungrateful little brat, and get your life drained out through your lips.”

He smirked at her, and she instantly blushed, like he knew she would because she always did. “Well,” he straighten up a little bit, his strength now rushing back, “Check, check, and check. Good night, eh, darlin’?”

“You know, a normal person would call you suicidal.”

Logan snorted and his hand moved to her thigh, “As long as you let me do that again I don’t give a shit what anyone calls me.

She should have been celebrating. Everything she ever wanted was now on her lap, quite literally. But a heavy doubt still hung over her and tainted the feeling. He successfully squashed her skin paranoia, and somehow she always figured he would, she just didn’t think he wanted to. She just couldn’t bring herself to completely believe this was happening.

“You’re not...you’re...,” she struggled with how to word it, “This isn’t just because of them is it?”

He cocked his eyebrow at her, “What are you talking about? Who?”

“The other us. Them. Whatever. I just don’t want this to be because of what they have...” her voice quieted with each word.

“Woah, right there,” Logan stopped her. He stilled her fidgeting glove hand in his and squeezed it. “I don’t give a shit about them or what they have. The only thing I give two fucks about is you. I want you. Just you, you and me, how we are now. Fuck what happened on the road, fuck what happened before now, fuck anything but us.”

She chuckled, wiping the escaped tear from her cheek, “Wow, you really speak the language of romance don’t you, sugah?”

He shrugged and pushed a loose hanging white bang behind her ear, “I do what I can.”

She nodded and looked over and saw the completely melted ice-cream soup and a puddle of water surrounding the beer bottle. It seemed like such a long time ago ice-cream was her biggest source of pleasure, but now the feel of Logan’s lips against hers was forever physically imprinted on her. “So, you feel better? About what happened with Ricochet n’all.”

“What? Oh, yeah. If you mean I don’t give a shit now then, yeah. I feel a lot better.”

“You should still give a shit, I think it’s cute when you act all ‘daddy’ around her.”

Logan smirked and moved her legs apart so he could stand between them. Her heart spiked up again, just when she finally got it to settle down. She watched his hands as they slide around her thighs and cradled the back of them. “I got a real problem with the word ‘cute’, darlin’.”

It must have been the dose of Logan that made her bold, but her hands move from their idle place at her side to his hips. Their trek continued inside of his shirt and slid around to rest on his hard abdomen. “Did I say cute? I meant incredibly sexy.”

One of his hands came up and he stroked his thumb along her bottom lip, “That’s a little better.”

“Umhm..” she nodded, all her attention now on worshiping his thumb with her lips, kissing it each time it moved across her mouth.

His eyes intently watched her lips, hepnotized by how they moved. He was pretty sure it was not healthy to be jealous of your own thumb but he’d never envied anything more in his life. The pull of her skin was minimal and he could tell by her relaxed face that either she couldn’t feel it or didn’t care. Still he had to pull away, not wanting to have to remind her she didn’t like to smoke cigars for a week. But he was reluctant to let that look leave her face so he buried himself under her hair, softly blowing air under her ear then down the column of her soft pale neck and back up again.

“Logan, stop,” she moaned, “You’re gonna make me faint or something.”

He grinned and lightly nipped her, “Then we’ll be even, won’t we?”

“Seriously, Storm’s still around her somewhere,” she pushed him away, her head bowed trying to hide her now ragging blush.

He bit his bottom lip in deliberation and turned his head to look behind him. “Right. Move that pretty ass of yours.” Before she had a chance to respond he pulled her off the stool and she squeaked as she was dragged behind him and out of kitchen.

“Hey,” Marie light-heartedly said as she stepped on the elliptical machine beside Ricochet. The girl turned her head to giver her a look. A classic Logan look, Marie noted to herself. The younger girl then looked back forward, shaking her head, her heavily breathing and the groaning of the machine under her the loudest noise in the gym.

Marie looked to Peter, who was in the back, well out of listening range, lifting weights. She always wondered why he even bothered. It never seemed like much of a challenge or workout to him.

“So you’ve been pretty successful in avoiding Logan these last couple of days,” she started and pretended to be busy pressing buttons on the equipment. In reality she had been looking all over the mansion for her until Chava finally told her she was in the gym. Logan already said he wasn’t saying shit to her until she apologize, leaving Marie to mend the rift between them. Which meant she had the impossible mission of getting a direct offspring of the Wolverine to admit fault. She considered that maybe the part of her in Ricochet would help dissolve Logan’s stubbornness, but then she remembered she could be a bit....difficult too. “Must have been a challenge.”

“Nope.” Ricochet answered, tightening her swinging ponytail. “He’s made it pretty easy.”

“Actually, you’ve both made it easy,” she corrected herself.

Marie huffed and her hand shot to her hip, “What the hell is that suppose to mean?”

Ricochet shrugged, “The whole mansion knows what you two have been so -busy- with.”

The news hit her square in the chest and caused her jaw to drop. How the hell could everyone know? Yeah, her and Logan had been together a lot lately; learning each other and testing the waters of what their relationship really was and meant. Up till now she thought they’ve been very covert about it. But if the whole mansion knew–

“Jubilee.” The one word from Ricochet’s mouth instantly explained everything. “She said she saw ya’ll leaving the movies. And evidently ya’ll stayed in the car a while.”

The movies. Friday night she told Logan they had to go on a date. A real date. He agreed to take her to the movies if, and only if, they could go to his favorite bar afterwards. And then they ended up never actually making it to the bar.

“I’m sorry. I should have– WE should have talked to you about it first. Before we, well...” She wasn’t real sure what to say. She wanted to say before they did anything but she seriously doubted Logan would have gave a shit about someone else’s permission. She settled on, “You should have heard it from us first, not from word of mouth.”

Ricochet shrugged again, taking a long drag from her water bottle. “Why should I care? Besides, I’m use to it. It use to seem I couldn’t go a week without someone telling me where they caught my parents.”

Marie blushed, in spite of herself. To her she was doing that way too much already lately. The Rogue did not blush. Luckily this time she could blame the workout should anybody call her own it. It was easy for her to imagine her and Logan together in the garage. In the library. Outside in the gardens. Years of fine-tuned fantasies had planned out different scenarios in almost every square inch of the mansion. And just recently she found out Logan had quite a collection of his own. The roof was by far her favorite. At night, under the stars, a Cashmere blanket under her, Logan laying beside her. His hand spayed out across her stomach, nearly reaching all the way across. His bare hand.

“How do your parents do it?” She found herself asking. These last five days her and Logan had been doing a lot of touching. He touched her in ways no one was brave enough to try before. Or she was brave enough to let them, for that matter. But so far Logan kept telling her they should take it slow. Yes, Logan. Then he’d tease her for hours, always stopping right when she was ready to take that final leap. She’d curse at him, he’d try to soothe her with words. Yes, Logan and words instead of hands. Of course then he’d curse *himself* for taking it too far, for not being able to stop, for being the animal he kept telling everyone he wasn’t. And then the mood would be gone; she would be more concerned with absolving his blame then getting off. But never that he wasn’t taking it far enough, or that he was stopping too soon, or that she wanted the animal. All the things she really wanted to say. Because saying that turned into a ‘I’m corrupting you’ speech and that was so much worse. Just once it would be nice if someone finally give her credit for her own corruption.

“Do what?”

“You know... have kids?” Right. Have kids. That was the last thing she wanted, especially if the emotional swings having Ricochet around caused her was any indication. But she also didn’t want her thinking her mom was a sex addict.

“I don’t know. I usually tried to stay away from the ‘Hey mama, how do you and daddy have sex?’ question.”

Caught and now fully embarrassed, Marie mumbled a, “Right, sorry.” When Ricochet’s eyebrow shot up at her she was reminded why she came here in the first place, since she certainly wasn’t getting any kind of exercise. “So, um, I hear Logan tried to give you some boy advice.”

The girl growled at her and Marie found herself actually quite impressed. Which was saying something because she’s heard a lot of growling over the years. It was a shame Logan didn’t hear it; it would have probably made his day. She noticed there was little difference between them, however. When Logan growled his whole top lip snarled up, showing off his rather formidable fangs. On the other hand Ricochet only lifted one side of her lip, more of a Elvis Presley than anything else. Marie added ‘get Ricochet and Logan to stand together and growl’ right under ‘get laid’ on her to-do list. What could possibly be a cuter picture?

“He’s just trying to look out for you, you know. It shows how much he cares.”

“I don’t need him to look out for me or care,” Ricochet snapped back.

Marie stopped the elliptical and sighed, she knew this was going to be hard. “Don’t be like that. He’s just doing his job, the whole dad thing. And he’s new at it, so cut him some slack.”

“Listen,” Ricochet hissed and stepped off the machine. Marie watched in slight horror as her grey eyes seemed to darken right in front of her. “I don’t know why you people seem to think we’re lost, little orphans or something. We HAVE parents. I already have a dad, okay? I don’t need a replacement. Or a mom for that matter. More importantly we’re adults. And I know this is hard for you to wrap your mind around but *we* are the X-Men. THE X-Men. Not the junior squad or whatever- the elite. WE are the heros. We don’t need saving; so stop trying to.”

Marie stood there and watched her leave. She was holding back the tears that for some reason insisted on coming, despite how much she told herself she didn’t care. Counting the seconds she waited for an appropriate time to leave without drawing Peter’s attention to her. The Rogue has been seen blushing too many times this week. She would be damned if she was going to let anyone see her cry too.


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



She walked down the amazingly familiar corridor, her face buried in her towel. She knew she was a little hard on Marie but she couldn’t stand it anymore. Between her and Logan she felt like she was twelve again. And she was nine years too old for that shit. She didn’t even like it when she was twelve. And in her house growing up you were taught not to bite your tongue when you had a problem– you bit someone else.

After giving her face one more good wipe she lowered the towel to find Philip barreling towards her.

“Woah, you look like shit,” she diagnosed. His normally crystal clear blue eyes were completely blood shot and his skin was grey and ashen. She reached her hand up to touch his face to see if he had a fever. But was stopped when his hand shot up and forcefully grabbed her wrist.

“I’m fine. We need to talk.”

Ricochet rolled her eyes at his reaction but moved her hand away anyway and placed it on her hip instead. “So talk.”

“I found Brainwave. We have to suit up and go get him before he moves again.”

“You *found* him?” Ricochet narrowed her eyes at him, “How the hell did you *find* him?”

“I used cerebro.”

“You...” She gaped at him at a loss for words. Looking him over again she realized he looked a lot worse then a cold. Usually he stood completely board straight, a sure sign of his arrogance. But now he was slumped over, like his body was trying to swallow itself.

Suddenly she found move than enough words. “What the fuck is the matter with you lately? You know you don’t have the kind of mental power to use cerebro! Is that where you’ve been since Monday? Lying alone in a twitching heap somewhere?! Shit, Phillip, you’ve probably fucking permanently fried your brain!”

“I’m fine. I was... nevermind, it doesn’t matter. I’m fine now. Just so you know your screaming doesn’t help my head any.”

A frustrated laugh escaped her, “Me popping you one isn’t going to help either.”

“Look who’s talking. How many times have you run off half-cocked on your own?” He raised his voice and had to clench his eyes shut from the pain it caused inside his head.

“Except for *I* know what my limitations are. You could have DIED, you dumbass!” She wacked him on the shoulder with her towel, seemingly for emphasis.

“Well I didn’t. So just shut up for once and get off my fucking back and go get the others. I’ll meet you guys in the hanger.” He pushed past her by she grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“You can’t go with us. You’re in no fucking shape to go on a mission.”

“I believe its up to the squad leader who goes and who stays. And last time I checked I’m still the god damn squad leader. So guess what? I’m going.” He jerked his arm away from her and began walking back the way she came.

“I could punch you in the head!” she called out after him, seriously considering the idea.

“Ten minutes. Then I’m leaving, with or without the rest of you.” His voice floated back to her, even though she could no longer see him.

She wouldn’t tell him what had her so upset. Just quietly took her seat beside him at the table and immediately concentrated on her food, although with no kind of vigor. Even Storm noticed her sour mood and sent a questioning glance to Logan, for which he could only shrug. Marie was never one for holding her opinions in so he figured her silence meant it was something she didn’t wanted everyone to know. So he conceded to push the questioning till later when they were alone and for now settled on gently taking her hand under the table.

Suddenly Kitty came running through the cafeteria door, quite literally. Bobby was a few steps behind her, actually having to stop to open the door. The two ran straight to the faculty table, past the hundreds of wide-eyed kids.

“The jets gone,” Bobby declared, leaning against table right beside Storm.

“What? How the fuck could the jet be gone?” Logan snapped instantly raising to his feet.

Storm held her slender hand up and shook her head, “Please, everyone calm down. Surely there is a reasonable explanation.”

“Um...” Kitty was reluctant to say anything and was nervously wringing her hands together. But Bobby nudged her and jerked his head toward the others, urging her on.

“Chava, Phil, Ricochet, and David are gone too.” She finally spoke up, even though it was more of a whisper.

Marie stood up beside Logan, “They took the jet?”

“Those little rug rats jacked the damn jet!?” Logan repeated, evidently not hearing her. Marie laid what was intended as a calming hand on his shoulder, but his nostrils remained flaring, definitely ready to attack.

Storm sighed and pushed away her tray, “We should be asking ourselves why they took it.”

“You cares why? They had no right. That’s stealing. That’s grand theft aircraft!” Bobby threw his arms in the arm, making very exaggerated motions. “We don’t even know if one of them can fly!”

“I’m sure one of them knows how to fly...” Kitty timidly disagreed.

“There’s nothing we can do anyway,” Marie pointed out and they all looked sharply at her when the words left her mouth. “They have the jet. And we have no clue where they went, not to mention no way of finding them.”

“That’s true,” Strom nodded at her, “We will simply have to wait till they come back and demand an explanation.”

“IF they come back,” Bobby hissed.

“Wait, you’re telling me there’s no low-jack or tracking device of any kind on that damn thing?”

“No, Logan, we’ve never LOST a jet before,” Storm answered him.

“What do we do till they come back?” Marie asked trying to keep the worried tone out of her voice.

“IF!” Bobby felt the need to remind them.

“I’ll tell you what I’m doing to do,” Logan growled and stepped away from the table, separating himself from the group. “I’m gonna go sharpen my fucking claws.”

The tears that were just a nuisance in the back of her eyes earlier were now a full fighting force. It was amazing how quick a day could spiral down. She woke up this morning confident from finally having the love of the man she’s always dreamed of and a missionary mission of mending the little dispute between him and his daughter. Which now after this will surely be miles wide.

Kitty moved toward her and wrapped her arms around her and Marie was instantly comforted that the same choked look was in the other girl’s eyes. “Come on, Rogue. Let’s go watch the news and hope we don’t see anything.” She nodded and smiled at her. The two of them were never great friends, but they had shared the Jubilee then later the Bobby bond. Now she couldn’t imagine anyone else she wanted to sit worried and miserable in front of a T.V. with.




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


He sat in the control room, his sharp eyes leaving the screen only long enough to blink. The claws were out not because he was shredding anything, presently anyway. But just because he could not get them to go back in, the muscles in his forearms were strung as tight as the rest of his body. As soon as the first ‘beep’ came out of the radar, signaling something was coming over their airspace, he was up and out of the chair waiting at the doors of the hanger.

The roar from the engines of the jet echoed off the walls of the hanger and the air stream coming off of them frantically blew his hair around his face. They probably would have knocked him clean to his feet, if he hadn’t had three-hundred pounds of metal grafted to his bones, that is. He promised Marie he would wait in the control room for them, but he wanted their assess the minute they stepped off the jet.

The platform lowered, too slowly for his liking. He saw Ricochet stepping out looking just as she did the first day he saw her. Mat-finish black leotard and guns strapped all over her. Her face was smudged but he couldn’t tell if it was dirt, bruising or just the darkness of demeanor as she walked down the platform.

“You got three seconds before I claw your ass up, girly,” he growled, marching over to her and quickly squashing the distance between them.

“Shut up.” She spat back, her voice low and shaking.

The command was enough to stop him and his cocked his eyebrow at her, no longer entertained by her boldness with him. “Excuse me? I don’t think—“

“Shut up!” she yelled this time. Actually it was more of a shriek that made his sensitive ears want to bleed. “You have to go get the doctor. Now. You can bitch at me all you want later but we need the god damn doctor now!”

She seemed to crack right in front of him. Her voice was hoarse with emotions and sobs, although she wasn’t actually crying, despite her blotchy eyes. He was torn between going to her and doing what she actually told him to. And looking at her he wasn’t sure he even wanted to know what happened or where they’ve been. The fact that evidently it wasn’t her that was hurt was little comfort to him. She was the only one that walked out. There was no way that could be anything but a bad sign. She looked so much like Marie when all the others died...

“Go!” she screamed so loud at him her voice completely gave out before she could finish the word.

She sat in Xavier’s office waiting for the reprimand to begin. Or, Storm’s office, whatever they were calling it these days, she couldn’t see how it mattered. The image of Logan behind the desk was completely ridiculous to her but she knew it would be him coming in. It should be Storm, since technically it was her jet they took. But she was still by David’s bedside, and didn’t appear to be leaving it any time soon.

It was probably around midnight last night that Dr. McCoy gave them the all clear; he would live. Now that time had past both the anticipation and the relief wore off, allowing their anger and disappointment to once again take center stage.

So she sat alone, in the farthest chair from the regal desk that she could find. Whatever he was going to nail to her she was ready for, because ultimately she was at fault for the entire mission.

She ended up being right about Philip; his head couldn’t take the high altitude. They were only in the air for a few minutes before he collapsed to the floor, screaming in pain and tightly clenching his head in his hands. As the second oldest and experienced that left her to lead the mission.

The destination was an old warehouse, for some reason a common setting for taking down evil. They soon found out that neither Brainwave nor Eric was there. She still couldn’t believe the man who taught her how to drive when her dad was too busy or bought her diamond earrings for her sixteenth birthday was now trying to have them killed.

But when they went in he had left a different kind of present for them. Two, in fact. Juggernaut, a man she recognized well, and a grotesquely large, hairy cat-man. Opting for a divide and conquer strategy she offered to take one of them on her own, since she could tolerate the most beating.

Then David said he could handle the cat-man alone, keep him busy long enough for the other two to take down Juggernaut. It seemed like such a good idea to her, like an actual plan instead of just trying to beat them senseless. So she agreed, because David was such a smart kid. But she made him promise to stay invisible and he agreed.

The two mammoths willingly separated and the girls led Juggernaut up to the second level, eliminating any chance they might have of tag teaming them.

Ricochet kept him distracted with attacks while Chava transported around him, releasing one hinge on his helmet at a time before safely disappearing again. Once they were all off she took it with her. He didn’t even realize it till she was behind Ricochet with a bright silver flash and the heavy bowl in her hands.

Furious, he charged, roaring at them. Ricochet met him half way and was able to build up enough momentum to send them both flying off the ledge of the balcony.

Pulling herself slowly off the ground she was assured the twenty foot drop did no damage to her body while he laid unconscious at her feet. Without the aid of his helmet she won the indestructible contest.

Another bright flash and Chava was beside her. That’s when they heard the scream. His scream.

When they got to them David was already dangling from the large cat-man’s paw wrapped around his throat. Even with the black suit they could easily see the dark stain covering his entire chest. Quickly Chava transported over and grabbed him. With a flash his limp body was away from the mangled paws. Unable to think of anything else Ricochet took her one untouched gun from behind her back and emptied it into the monster. But the damned thing would not die so she fired off the few remaining clips left in her other guns. Luckily the multitude of bullet holes was enough to weaken the creature and convince it to run away.

The minutes they were on the ground, however long it was, was enough for Philip to regained enough control of himself to help them carry David back to the jet, carefully, so they wouldn’t jar him.

Once inside Chava tried to hold him together and control the bleeding with her limited emergency first-aid knowledge. Which meant Ricochet was the only one who could fly the jet. Philip tried to instruct her and easily got her through the lift-off. But it wasn’t long before it became too much for him again, though he tried to fight it and still tell her what to do. By the time they got back to the mansion the stress was too great and he was unconscious on the floor of the plane, a trickle of blood coming out of his nose and ear.

So she sat alone in the office. David’s condition was solely her fault, because she never considered that the cat-man could smell him out. Of course, that was why Philip blamed her too. Within an hour of landing his head was able to mend itself again. He immediately came to her saying there was no excuses. She should have fucking anticipated on him having x-ray vision or a bazooka attached to his arm, it didn’t matter. She should have been ready for anything. And how she should know better than to have left the youngest member of the team to fend for himself, all alone, no matter what he said he could handle.

And he was completely right. She did everything a squad leader shouldn’t. But at the time she didn’t care because she just heard David would be alright and he was no longer convulsing, so she was more than happy to turn the reigns back over to him.

But now, many, many hours later, in the empty office, the feeling of doom settled back over her.



He came in and their eyes met for a second before he gently, especially for him, shut the door behind him. Looking to the desk for a moment he seemed to agree with her and opted for leaning against the wall opposite from her.

Despite everything that happened lately, and the vacant look on her face, she still looked him straight in the eye; even though the usual intensity was gone in them.

“I don’t want to yell at you,” he sighed, and kept his voice low. “I think you’ve had to deal with enough crap lately.”

She nodded, not because she agreed with him, but because she no longer had the energy to fight and argue with him anymore.

“You gonna tell me what the hell you were thinking running off like that?” The tone that came out of his mouth was one he never recognized using before. It felt like the moment where a normal person, with a past, would be faced with the horror of morphing into their parents.

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “We just wanted to go home.”

“And you didn’t trust us to get you there,” Logan guessed.

She shook her head, causing the hair to fall back into her face. “No. It wasn’t that, not really. We just got tired of waiting.”

“So you thought you’d get yourself and the others killed?” His voice suddenly spike in volume, unintended by him. He assumed it was left over anger from her recklessness.

“No,” she quietly whined. “I’m sorry.”

He could only nod because of course she was sorry, they all already knew that. But he could tell she wasn’t sorry for what she was suppose to be sorry for, stealing private property, namely. They were playing in a whole different ball park now.

“So,” the word escaped his mouth, just to fill the empty air.

“Have you eaten lately?”

“Um… No, not yet,” she answered tentatively, unsure of what that had to do with anything.

Again he nodded and pulled out a cigar from his coat pocket. Pushing off of the wall he produced a lighter from his pack pocket. As soon as it touched his lips he relaxed, savoring in the thick, smoky taste. He took a long, slow drag before talking again. “Alright. Let’s go see what’s on the table.”

“Wait!” She jumped up and he stopped making his way toward the door; his eyebrow rose quizzically. “That’s it? I mean, just like that?”

“I’m not one to lecture anybody,” Logan answered. “Don’t get me wrong here, girly. You fucked up big time. If Storm decides she wants to kick your ass I’m more than willing to hold you down. Now, come on, I’m pretty sure I can smell pizza.”

She followed behind him out into the bolstering hallway. Students were running all over the place in the late afternoon. The noise and crowd around her got no reaction out of her, however. She didn’t even acknowledge them; just stared at Logan’s broad back in front of her.

Without warning a strangled roar emitted from him and he was no longer in her field of vision. She looked up in time to see him collide with a group of students who weren’t quick enough to get out of the way from the barreling projectile. Shock kept her paralyzed in the middle of the hall, the sounds of chaos beginning to wrap all the way around her. Only then Philip’s yell dragged her out of her haze.

“Get up you son of a bitch!”

She had to look between the two a few times before it finally snuck in that he was talking to Logan. Her brain took a few seconds more to process what that really meant.

With the rate he was storming toward him she was surprised she could convince her body to move fast enough. She slammed her body flush against his, pushing him back, and gaining a few feet between him and Logan, who was still trying to get to his feet.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She managed to choke out. It was taking all her strength to hold him back.

“He fucking killed her! You killed my mother, you fucking bastard!”

All the color drained from Logan’s face when the words came hurtling out of the boy’s mouth and straight into his heart. At that moment nothing else existed for him in the tight corridor. Not the kids cowering scared in the doorways. Not the girl desperately standing between them. Just him and the vehement boy.

“I…” Words were refusing to form in his head.

“You what? What asshole?”

But still nothing would come to him, which seemed to infuriate him more.

“Let me go, that fucker killed my mother,” he hissed at Ricochet and tried again to step around her.

“No!” She declared, stepping in front of him again. “Philip, you have to listen to me.”

She took his face in her hands, trying to get his attention away from the source of his blood lust. “She was not your mother. He didn’t kill *your* mom. You can’t take what she did out on him. Please.”

His hands shot up, gripping her upper arms. “Get the fuck off of me!”

Using both his powers and the strength fueled by his rage he threw her away from him a short distance to the left. She collided hard with the wall; the steal enforced oak paneling was unwilling to give way to her bulk. The back of her head bounced an extra time then the rest of her body, leaving a large dent in the grain.

Nothing standing in his way, Philip charged Logan. The claws instinctively shot out when his right fist slammed against his jaw, making his neck turn sharply.

The more he hit him the harder his fists connected with his body. The boy wasn’t picky, he attacked his face and gut with equal ferocity. News insults accompanied all of them. Each made the memory of that night and the woman he had loved speared on his claws clearer and clearer in his head.

He stood there and took the blows willingly, just trying to hold his ground and keep the claws to his side the best he could.

The pain inflamed the beast in him, which kept him from crying. As far as Logan was concerned the kid had every right. He was entitled to every drop of blood that was smeared on his knuckles. Because, for Logan, it wasn’t his knuckles, but Scott’s, the person who really deserved to beat him senseless.

It was easy to imagine him there; the kid was almost identical to him. Hateful blue eyes instead of a visor were the only difference. Ever since that night he wished Scott would just come out, from whatever hell he was in, and do his damnedest to finally be the one to finish him off. For killing his wife or lusting after her, it didn’t matter. Because it was his fault Scott never got the chance to too.

Logan barely felt the air rush past him but the pull of telekinesis was something familiar to him. Astoundingly he managed to hear Marie screaming out his name right before he hit the wall all the way at the end of the hall. It did splinter from his adamantium laced body.

Exhausted Philip stood in the middle of the corridor, his whole frame heaving with large pants of breath. His body was completely spent but the intense anger shined just as bright in his eyes that were starring off at his victim. Rogue was running her hands all over Logan and said something Philip couldn’t pick up because he couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of the blood in his head.

He turned and lethargically walked back the way he came. Each antique wall sconce exploded when he walked past it, making the only light eerie sunlight that somehow managed to leak from the windows inside the class room and through the countless bodies into the hall.

Ricochet couldn’t watch him go up the stairs. And unlike everyone else, didn’t flinch or scream at the small, shattering explosions that were happening all around them.

Once they stopped she knew he was gone. She put her arms on top of her head and slid slowly down the smooth wood, crumbling to the floor.

Turning her head she looked from under her arm towards Logan and Marie.



Logan was a complete mess and she was scared by how slowly he was healing. It was like he was trying to suppress his own mutation, making the pain linger a littler longer.

He mumbled on about Jean, so low even she could barely hear him. Another woman would have been jealous, and normally she would have been too, but he wasn’t saying anything about her beautiful flaming hair or how much he missed her. He was just spewing out random regrets: about killing her and wishing he had found a way to save her. So there was nothing to be jealous about, because she wished the same thing.

Raining kisses all over his head through his hair she kept silent and let him regain himself. Occasionally she glared at the gawking on-lookers, intent on protecting the Wolverine’s pride and reputation.

Even in his emotional state it only took a minute or two for him to heal. Once all the cuts were gone, the bones knitted back together, and the bruises faded, she carefully pulled him to his feet. He willing put his weight on her and she led him down the hall, one arm circled around his waist, the other gently stroking his face while she whispered comforting drabble in his ear.

Ricochet pulled her knees up to her chest and watched them as they approached. Her eyes darted back and forth between their faces frantically, but she could not catch one of their gazes. Instead they walked turned into each other, their foreheads together, only concentrating on each other.


Marie knew she was watching them. She could feel her needy glance. And she felt sorry for the girl, just not enough to leave Logan and go to her. Because the reality of it was she was not her daughter, not anyone to her, not really. And Logan was hers. Her lover. And she had to take care of what was hers before worrying about someone else’s.


They walked past her, seemingly in slow motion. They didn’t look at her, just kept walking as if she wasn’t there. She watched until they were almost entirely up the stairs and then everything crashed in her.

Her onerous head feel to her knees. Long brown hair concealed her face and the tears that werecascading from her eyes. But nothing could hide the jerking quaking of her body from the sobs that racked through her.

She sat alone, for the second time in a span of ten minutes. Surrounded by the thousands of shards of pristine glass and under the gaze of a hundred or so kids who stood in the shadows of the ghostly lit hall way, she curled into a tighter ball and pressed herself as close to the wall as she could, but lacked the ability to make herself disappear.

Knocking her knuckles twice against the door she listened for the immediate ‘come in’, but everything was silent on the other end. Confused, she knocked again, much harder this time and again she was not granted entrance.

“Philly, you in there?” She said through the door. No answer came back so she tried the knob only to find it locked. If the door was locked that meant he was in there, she decided.

With a bright flash she transported herself into the small room. Of coarse it was immaculate, no clothes on the floor, nothing out on the dresser or the night-stands, beds perfectly cleaned, cleanest boys’ room that ever existed. When she mentally compared it to the room her and Ricochet shared, well, she felt more than a little pig-like.

“You in here Philly?” She called out again.

“Yeah,” a muffled voice came through the ballroom door and she nodded, relieved that it meant he wasn’t just ignoring her earlier.

Wondering around the room it was hard resisting the urge to mess the place up. Just empty one of the trash cans in the middle of the floor, or maybe ruffle the sheets on one of the beds. But then she noticed one of the beds was already a miss and she leaned against the bathroom door.

“There’s blood on your pillow, are you alright?” Chava couldn’t believe this was happening, just when she thought they had everyone squared away.

“Fine.”

She narrowed her eyes at the door, already considering transporting in there. “What do you mean your fine? There’s blood all over your pillow. Philly, come out here now.”

“Could you please stop yelling?” his voice pleaded.

“I wouldn’t have to yell if I wasn’t talking through a stupid door now get out here, mister.”

The sound of something crashing came from the other side. Crashing or being slammed down she couldn’t really tell. “Damn it! Just a second.”

The door slowly opened and she took a step back to let him out. He had a wad of tissues stuck inside his noise, the tops already tinted red. In his hand was a box full of clean ones.

“Your nose is bleeding,” she stated as he walked past her.

He groaned sitting in one of he desk chairs and let his head fall back over the end of it. “Is it? I haven’t fucking noticed.”

She walked around the front of him and snatched the box out of his hand. He sat up surprised and poised to yell at her but could only get out a “hey!” as she grabbed his hair and pulled his head down probably a little rougher than necessary.
“You lean forward with a bloody nose.” She instructed him crossing her arms over her chest. “You used your powers didn’t you?”

He sat in silence for a second just twisting the tissue around in his nose. Finally he mumbled, “Something like that.”

“Mr. Hank told you no powers for a day or two. Are trying to see if your head will explode?” Then she snorted, laughing to herself. “Oh, Ricochet is SO gonna kill you when I tell her.”

His head dropped a little bit lower and his hand came up to run through his hair, “She already knows.”

She wasn’t sure if she believed him since he was whole in front of her and decided to tell Ricochet when she saw her anyway. Jumping up onto the desk, she pulled a few tissue out of the box and handed them to him. He grunted a thanks and removed the now completely soaked ones.

“Anyway, I came here for a reason.”

“I was hoping,” Philip groaned.

“David woke up a little bit a ago. He wants you to go see him. I’ll tell him you’re still–hm, does ‘indisposed’ sound better than bleeding profusely?”

“No, I’ll go down there. Just give me a second to–“

“Plug your holes?” Chava interrupted him grinning.

Before he could answer her someone knocked loudly at his door. It was even visible vibrating from the force. Whoever it was on the other side they were not satisfied that they were heard and the hard beating continued.

Philip flinched and covered his ears. “Please tell them to fucking stop and go the hell away.”

“Sure,” Chava jumped down of desk and skipped over to the door. Instead of repeating what he said she unlocked it and yelled for them to come in. She grinned when she heard him whimper.

Marie shoved the door out of the way and shot a glance at Chava before squaring up in front of Philip. “Who the hell do you think you are—“

He interrupted her, rubbing the side of his head. “I don’t suppose there was anyway you could yell at me in more of a whisper?”

She snorted, her hands firmly on her hips. “Oh, so you want me to have consideration for your feelings? Isn’t that funny? You don’t seem to give a shit about anyone else’s.”

If it hadn’t been completely against his nature to embarrass himself he would have cried right then and there. Because if the look in her eyes was any indication she was no where close to being done with him or willing to lower her voice.

“I–“

“Shut up,” Marie snapped. “You don’t get to talk. First off, how dare you do that to him in front of the whole school? You had a damn problem, you could have waited till you two were in private. And second, you don’t know shit. You have no clue what we went through back then, losing everyone and—“ She stopped, she had to. Taking a deep breath she pushed the other emotions aside and let anger once again take control. “Logan did not kill Jean. He *saved* her. And it fucking tore him to hell for years afterwards. So maybe you should get the whole damn story before you fucking snap at someone. Oh, yeah, and third, you have to sweep the damn hallway.”

Chava’s head turned from starring shocked at Marie to Philip, “Damn, what did you do?”

“He beat the shit out of Logan for ‘killing his mother’. Logan might not want to beat the crap out of you, but I’m seriously thinking about it.” Marie narrowed her eyes at him.

“Phil, your mom–“

“Yes, I know!” He yelled, throwing the bloody rags down on the desk. “She wasn’t my mom, I get it, okay? I get it. What the hell can I say? Maybe I’m just as fucking crazy as she was!”

“Don’t you dare say that about Jean,” Marie hissed. “Not after what you did to Logan. Jean was not crazy, she was a good woman and would do anything for anyone. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t control Phoenix. Never talk about her like that again.”

Chava watched Philip’s face. He was completely beat. He was rubbing his hands roughly over his eyes and shaking his head, mumbling incoherently.

“Do you want me to tell David you’ll just see him later today?” She quietly asked, feeling sorry for the former shell of her leader.

Slowly he lifted his head up, his cheeks completely red. “No. I’m going down there. I’m just going to get a shower first.” It wasn’t that he needed a shower, but Chava knew him well enough to know that he didn’t want David to see he wasn’t alright. The ‘strong, righteous leader’ image was something Philip coveted. And sure, he’d slipped a few times in front of her and Ricochet, but never in front of David. David always got the full hero show, probably because he was younger than they all were.

“I didn’t think I told him he could leave!” Marie huffed and maybe her way towards the bathroom door.

Chava grabbed her arm to stop her and smiled what she hoped was innocently when Marie’s head jerked around to glare at her.

“Come on, Rogue. He’s already in the shower, let’s just get out of here,” she suggested and started walking toward the door already, hoping Marie would follow.
Luckily she did and they made it a few steps down the hall before Marie blew up again.

“He’s nothing but a selfish bastard!”

“Yes, yes he is.” Chava nodded to appease her. Not just because of that, but also since technically it was mostly true too. “But, you know, he has serious ‘parent issues’.”

Marie chuckled darkly, shaking her head. “Like what? Scott signed if up for little league too early? Jean forced him to take his vitamins every day?”

“No. Well, yeah, but that’s not it.” Chava chewed her bottom lip uncertain if she should say anything. If Philip found out he’d kill her. Multiple times. But Mrs. Rogue back home was always good at keeping secrets if you told her. “Mrs. Summer, you know, *his* mom had Phoenix trouble too.”

Marie’s eyes widened and she nodded, telling her to continue.

“Um, okay, you can’t tell anyone I told you this.” Again Marie nodded. “Okay I was like eight so Phil must have been about ten when Phoenix started, um, popping up. First she only like had control for a second or two. Then, you know, it became longer. And this Phoenix was psychotic, a real bitch.”

“Yeah, that I know.”

“Right,” Chava continued. “Well when she got control she was like violent to the extreme and she almost always took it out on Mr. Summers. The Professor figured she was trying to punish Mrs. Summers, for suppressing her or whatever, you know? Luckily Jean usually managed to get control before he got hurt too bad. Then one day, Philly was suppose to stay with Storm, ‘cuz Mr. Summers was in the Danger Room. But he went to go visit his mom, which none of us were suppose to do by ourselves, you know? Anyway, Phoenix reared her hanis head and just fucking attacked him. Even threw him throw the railing on the stairs. Thank God Mr. Summer’s showed up in time and was able to distract Phoenix till Jean got her under control again. I’d never seen him that scared before. I mean, it was Cyclops, as a little kids we ever thought he could even get scared. Jean wasn’t doing too well either.”

“I can imagine,” Marie was able to choke out through the lump in her throat.


“Yeah, the whole mansion just sort of stopped for a while, you know. Phil was alright and everything, just some bruises and stuff. But the next day Mrs. Summer... She, you know, was scared it would happen again. She hated that she was always hurting Mr. Summer and stuff and then now Phil too. Well, she was scared, you know. The next day she..um.. she committed suicide. You know, stopped Phoenix for good.”

Marie’s heart was having a hard time working from what the girl was telling her. If she knew she was hurting Logan on a constant basis and her child too... She didn’t blame Jean at all, she would have probably done the same thing. It sort of felt that the Jean she knew got it easy. Not easy. No, that was wrong. Easier. Then she realized she had snapped at the kid before getting the complete story. But none of what Chava was telling her made what he did to Logan okay.

“Mr. Summers was never right after that,” Chava continued, no longer concentrating on Marie. “He went into total save the world mode, you know, twenty-four seven. For a while he even tried to run the school for the Professor too, but Professor put Storm in-charge instead and told him to take a break. But Mr. Summers never stops moving, there’s always one more bad guy. A few more people he could save.”

‘Scott,’ Marie sighed in her head. She missed him more than Xavier or Jean, when he died is when she knew they school would never be the same again. That any of them would never be the same again. For the longest time she hated Jean for taking him away, more than she hated her for taking all of Logan’s attention or telling everyone about her crush. Eventually she came to terms with it wasn’t Jean that did it. Jean would have wanted them to have Scott still.

Depression started to rise up in her again but she refused to let it take hold. They all had been depressed too long. She just needed Logan.

Searching for Logan had taken longer than she expected. First she checked the usual spot he went when he was upset– the garage. But he wasn’t there so then she checked outside, where he went to be alone. And she found no Logan still.

Wondering around the lower corridors aimlessly she considered the possibility that he ran. In fact, now that she thought about it, it was a strong possibility. If he had she wouldn’t have blamed him. She was actually proud he stayed this long, considering all the abnormal circumstances.

As she walked through the brightly lit white walls, ceiling, and floors, a striking color caught the corner of her eye. Turning her head she looked at the glaring red bulb for a second and how it tainted the pristine white all around it to a dull pink. She rolled her eyes, feeling very stupid and ashamed of herself. He was in the Danger Room. Mentally she scoffed at herself, of course he was in the Danger Room. She had written him off as being on his way to Canada and she never so much as checked the Danger Room, the one place in the mansion he practically lived in.

She watched the red light while pushing the ‘ENTER’ button, and sure enough it flashed at her. A monotone female voice told her “Access Denied” just like she knew it would before it asked for the override code. All she had to do now was figure out Logan’s override code. Quickly she brain-stormed thirty or so possible choices, everything from ‘bub’ to ‘oh Canada’ but none of them sounded right. Her next step was to consult with the Logan in her head but he just told her to leave him the hell alone, the red light’s on for a reason. She took another second to think, assuring herself that she could do it. She knew Logan better than anyone, maybe even better than him. ‘Logan Logan Logan,’ she repeated to herself. Think like Logan.

“Open the damn door?” She tried and couldn’t help from breaking into a fit of giggles when the red light went out and the white wall in front of her slid open.





The first thing she was hit with was the thick cloud of smoke that hung in the air. Coughing, she waved her hand in front of her face to keep from breathing any more of it in and to clear it so that she could at least see in front of her.

She managed to make it four feet into the room before her foot caught on something and she stumbled over it. Turning her head she saw it was a robot, what was left of one anyway. That’s when she noticed the countless metal carcasses laid across the floor and briefly wondering if maybe she should have listened to the red light bulb.

Tentatively she stepped over the metallic bodies while keeping her eye out for Logan. A wire gate stretched across the two buildings, blocking her from the main street. Except for Logan had already been through there so a large section of it was ripped out. When she stepped through the hole a roar echoed from somewhere to her left. She followed the noise carefully of the debris scattered around her.

She spotted him shoved up against a wall, five or so androids all over him. She consider for a second going over there and giving him a hand. But then realized this was Logan she was talking about, he’d be more than pissed at her for it. She was going to be in enough trouble for even coming in. So she hopped up on one of the short cobble stone walls and waited for him to finally notice her.

Again he roared at the bots but this time she got to witness all the vicious glory that was Wolverine in attack mode. His lip curved back barring his sharpened canines, saliva jetting out, his eyebrows knitted tightly together. The lucky robots were thrown away, the other immediately disembowel by six razors flying around.

The remaining robots’ lives were spared for a little bit longer when Logan spotted her out of the corner of his eye. His head wiped around to verify that she was really there and not a trick of the simulation. She tried to gage how much trouble she was in by his reaction but too many played across his face too quickly. Before she had a chance to wave, smile, yell she loved him, or anything else to ease his anger, the leftover bots attacked him again.

She cringed when one of them managed to get a slice in on him. That was probably going to count against her since the only reason he didn’t see it coming was because he was gawking at her. Logan quickly recovered though, and the rest of the bots were taken out before the cut even finished healing.

He stood there and watched the sparks shoot from the severed wires at his feet, letting his breathing and heart rate slow back down. Slowly the heaving of his chest eased and he turned his head back towards her.

The look on his face was completely clear that time and she gave him a little wave. He was too far away for her to hear him but she swore that he groaned before stalking towards her.

“Hey, sugah,” she smiled at him.

With a metallic ring the claws went back to their resting place in his arms. “How the fuck did you get in here?”

She reached out and lightly grasped his wrist, pulling him closer to her, “I came in through the door. You okay? You were gone before I got up this morning.”

“I’m fine,” he grunted and crossed his arms over his broad, and stained, chest.

“That why you felt the need to tear San Francisco to its knees?” She mumbled, unable to stop the tiny bit of bitterness from leaking into her voice. She swiped some on the concrete rumble off of the wall beside her.

He stilled her hand with his heavy one. “It’s Philadelphia, darlin’. I told you I was fine.”

“So all of this, it wasn’t a Jean thing? After last night–“

“No Jean thing. I’ve dedicated years to a Jean thing and I’m done letting it control me. Last night reminded me why. This was just a typical need for destruction.”

She searched his face not quite ready to believe him. But the last thing he wanted was to keep doing this over and over again. He just wanted the Jean discussions to be behind him and stay there. So he squeezed her hand under his and winked at her. She was slightly shocked by the gesture and a small giggle escaped.

“So why did Philadelphia deserve to die?” She was now grinning ear to ear. She knew just being with him would shove all the darkness out of her.

He looked around, his tongue rubbing one of his long canines in deliberation. “I’m not real sure. I hate them stupid steak sandwiches, though.”

“You massacred a whole city because you don’t like Philly cheese steak?”

“Yeah, so what if I did, you gonna do something about it?” He smirked and stepped between her legs. Leaning against the wall she was sitting he got into her face, only a few millimeters separating their noses.

“Careful, sugah, get any closer and I might have to hurt you,” She matched his grin. It was amazing how she always considered her mutation as a curse, especially when the cure couldn’t even control it. But with Logan it was just a joke.

Suddenly his hands curved behind her knees. She squeaked when with one hard tug her body was slammed flush against his. She barely had enough time to put her hands on her shoulder to steady herself.

“Try me, darlin’.” he growled, his breath hot on her lips, and she purred in response. She wanted to come up with a smart comeback but her brain wouldn’t handle that advanced of a function.

Taking her silence as a victory his head bent down to nuzzle her neck through her hair. At the same time one of his hands slide up her side. She whimpered when it stopped beside her breast and remained still.

Inhaling her scent he grinned against her neck. “What’s the matter? You sitting on gravel or something, kid?”

She gripped his shoulders as hard as she could, “I got a pain in my ass, alright, but it ain’t gravel.”

A loud laugh echoed from his mouth and across the hollow buildings. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and locked them behind her back, like steal bands holding her entire body against his. She had to tilt her head back to even be able to look in his face.

“Logan, I gotta ask you something.”

His eyebrow shot up at her sudden serious tone, “So ask.”

“When are we finally gonna go at it?”

“Go at it?” He snorted, “You wanna fight me?”

She rolled her eyes. Wolverine had the male one track mind, it was just on the wrong track. “No, Logan. Stay with me here. When are we finally gonna have sex? Bang, make love, screw, ‘da nasty’.”

“First off, calm down, kid. We’ve been together four weeks. Second, don’t ever say ‘da nasty’ again.”

That finally snapped something in her. She should have known being 'coy' with the Wolverine wouldn't work; it was time she got them on the same page. Because she was tired of him lagging a few chapters behind.

She was limited in how she could move, with there being no slack in his arms so she settle for grabbing his ass in her hands and whispering in his ear. “I’ve wanted you for six years. I want you to take me and take me hard. I wanna scream your name so loud, sugah, I’m hoarse for a week. I wanna make everyone that lives around us request room changes ‘cuz they can’t keep pictures on their walls. I want the world to almost go to hell because we can’t stop making each other cum long enough to save it. But most of all I want us to do *da nasty* on the roof.”

Water was beginning to gather in his eyes because they refused to blink. The words that came out of her mouth didn’t stay in his mind long enough for him to completely process them, instead they went almost instantly to an other part of his body. Finally he screamed at himself to say something and not just stand there drooling. “So...um..why the roof?”

Her entire face light up when he didn’t say no sex til she was at least thirty or something like that. “The real question, sugah, is why NOT the roof.”

His hands moved down from her back to under her butt and lifted her off the wall, “Roof it is.”

She giggled against his neck between quick nips, “No, Logan, stop!”

He stopped, standing in front of the door. “What? You said you wanted roof. I’m giving you roof.”

“No, it has to be a night,” she explained. Her cheeks were starting to ache from smiling so wide. She petted the back of his head. “With the stars above us and trees for miles around us.”

He was fascinated by the glowing from her eyes, how the deep brown color of them could darken but the light in them gleam brighter. “Sounds like this roof thing is important to you.”

She shrugged, “I’ve lingered on it for a while.”

“Well then, we gotta make sure it’s perfect. That means practice.” He pinched her butt and she squeaked and jumped in his arms causing her body to rub hard against his. The contact made them moan unanimously.

“Open the damn door!” He yelled and the destroyed city disappeared around them. The door slide open and he carried her out, showing no sign of setting her down any time soon.

"You're kidding," David's quiet voice shook slightly both from his exhaustion and the news she told him.

"Nope," Chava grabbed the small bowl of grapes that was sitting on the tray beside his bed and flopped down on the hard metal chair. "Ugh, the seat's hot! Gross..." She squirmed, wrinkling her button nose up even more. "That reminds me, where did Mrs. Ororo go?"

"She went to bed. Can we stay on topic a little bit here? Philip lost it--" he started for her.

"Oh, yeah," Chava popped two grapes into her mouth. "*Totally* psycho. I'm talking full on 'baby, you can't play with Auntie Jean today, it’s not safe' kind of psycho."

David's normally rich dark complexion paled to ash as he shook his head and tried to sit up. His body screamed in protest and he could barely groan when pain swelled in his chest and shot straight into his head, leaving him pinned to the bed. Defeated, he just concentrated on willing the pain away so he could steady his breath.

"Do you think...do you think he's going to go all Phoenix on us? I mean, did you see it?"

"No. Me and Peter were watching the International Hockey tournament in the upstairs game room. The yellow wonder told me about it. But I went and saw the damage, not to mention Rogue was pissed as hell. I haven't seen her that mad since Kyle locked the twins in the Danger Room with all the safety features turned off."

"Logan knew what they were up to; he wouldn't have let them get hurt." Philips voice made them both jump. David's eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head from the pain the sudden movement caused, but it was Chava who was dramatically clenching her chest and deeply breathing.

"Shit, Philly, knock or something."

"Sorry." he mumbled, but it was obvious it was an immediate response of his mouth because their was no emotion what so ever in his voice. Both of them watched him wearily as he strolled over to the other side of the med-lab to grab another metal and plastic chair. The legs of the chair lightly ringed out when they collided with the hard tile floor beside the bed.

“So how you doing, short stuff?” Philip asked, scooting the chair closer to the bed.

“I’m okay,” he answered quietly, even managed with some work to lift one of his shoulders slightly off the bed in a shrug.

“Yeah, you scared me shit-less, you little twerp,” the older boy’s clear blues eyes flashed briefly to the bandages covering his chest before going back up to his eyes. “What did I tell you? You’re too smart to be the hero, let us morons get killed, okay?”

“Hey!” Chava’s high pitched shriek cut through the air.

They both ignored her and David again tried to sit up and match at least half of Philip‘s classic confident stance, but to no avail. At least this time he was able to keep the whimper of pain to himself. “I’m prince of my own nation, Phil, if I want to be the hero for once I can.”

Philip huffed in laughter, but no smile spread onto his lips. “Good, be a hero for Wakanda then, not us.”

“What about you? I hear you’ve been having some trouble lately.”

‘Smooth, David.’ Chava said to herself, shaking her head.

“Fine,” he grunted in quick response.

“Good. Chava said you were bleeding pretty badly.”

Philip’s eyebrows rose at her, “Do you have to tell everything you know?”

“What?” she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. Both boys looked at her, the corner of David’s mouth slightly tugged up. “Believe me, there’s *plenty* I keep to myself.”

“Doubt it.”

“So where’s Ricochet? She hasn’t come down to see me yet,” David pointed out, his bottom lip unconsciously coming out.

“I don’t know. I couldn’t find her.” Chava answered, leaning back into her chair and continued putting grapes in her mouth.

“I hope she’s okay...” David said quietly, unwillingly to look Philip in the eyes when he said it.

“She’s fine,” Philip answered before anyone else had a chance to.

Chava gawked at him, her brown eyes narrowing. “I saw the wall, Philly. There’s a dent the size of a damn bowling ball in it.”

“And?! She’s invincible, remember? She’s fine.”

David watched his face contort in frustration and the last thing he wanted was to upset him even more. So he lay there silently, because no matter the situation he was always on Philip’s side. And in all the years of Chava and Ricochet ganging up on their leader he never regretted it, even though Phil rarely wanted his help.

“So?!” Chava stood up, bringing herself to her full 5’2” height, startling both boys by her action. “Just because she doesn’t get hurt doesn’t mean you can throw her around like a rag doll! Shit, she’s the only one willingly to help you through your freaking emotional breakdown downs that you keep having lately as it is, and how do you thank her? Huh?!”

“Fine!” Philip clenched the side of his head, his eyes screwing tightly shut against the pain. “I’m an asshole, alright? A first class, grade-A asshole and everything is completely my fault. I admit it. Now would everyone please stop *screaming* around me. Shit!” He buried his head between his heads, rubbing her hands back and forth through his hair.

David narrowed his eyes accusingly at her but she just shrugged and planted her hands on her hips.

“Ah, she’s probably somewhere plotting how best to get back at you,” David tried to joke to lighten the mood. But neither of his two teammates’ faces lightened. Chava as still glaring at Philip and Philip was wiping the back of his hand under his nose then looking at it.


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



He carried her easily down the dimly lit corridor, his hands firmly gripping under her thighs and her legs wrapped tightly around his waist and her arms even tighter around his neck. He tried not to concentrate too much on the feel of her warmth pressed flush against his back or how her hair tickled his neck. Instead he focused on making his feet move forward and not just finding out right then and there if the back corridors were as amazing as the roof. But damn her if she wasn’t making that increasing harder with each lazy stroke of her hand under his tank top through the hair on his chest. Not to mention that soft, sleepy mewing she was doing in his ear.

“Aw, isn’t that the sweetest thing you’ve never seen?” Jubilee’s voice crashed through their hazy paradise and both their heads lifted to see her and Peter walking towards them. A large, toothy grin spread on the Asian girl’s face.

“Nice shirt, Rogue.” She winked at her.

Rogue blushed at her friend’s compliment to the large button down flannel shirt swallowing her frame. “Thanks.”

“Forget the shirt. Nice pants.” Peter added with a snort.

Logan growled at the much larger boy and tightened his grip on Marie’s legs. He didn’t like the idea that the punk was looking close enough to notice she wasn’t wearing any pants. But the warning only made the grin on Peter’s face match Jubilee’s and they looked at each, both trying to fight back from laughing.

“You‘re in my way, spark plug. Move.” Logan instructed, not wanting to delay their journey back down stairs a second longer.

But Jubilee ignored him, popping her gum. “I’m kinda surprised to see you, Wolvie. I thought you’d left a while ago.”

“Why would he leave?” Marie asked, making sure her breath went by his ear. The other two didn’t seem to react to the innuendo, but Logan’s fingers dug further into the flesh of her legs and she had to fight back the smirk threatening to form on her face.

“I dunno,” Jubilee shrugged. “His bike was gone so a+b=c kinda thing I just figured he was gone.”

“Wait.” Logan stopped, narrowing his eyes at her. “What the hell do you mean my bike is gone?!”

“It wasn’t there this morning when I went out there either.” Peter seemed to just realize.

“Who would steal the Wolverine’s bike?” Marie asked skeptically, even she wasn’t brave enough to take Logan’s bike without asking.

Logan’s head was turned slightly as if he couldn’t quite hear her. He stood like that for a second, silently, letting her words flow into and around his brain. Who the fuck *would* take his bike? They’d have to be a damn suicidal little punk to....

“Aw fuck,” he swore and released Marie’s legs, letting her slide down his body.

The door eased open letting the faint light of from the kitchen invade the pitch black space. She stepped through the small opening then carefully closed the door behind her, shutting out the little bit of light.

Her eyes were covered with a large bandana that was securely wrapped around her face. Ripping the cloth over the back of her head she shook her hair and blinked for a few times. Her eyes immediately adjusted to the darkness and she wrapped the bandana around the palm of her hand, stuffing the loose ends into the wrists of her suit before putting both gloves on. She lowered her head and closed her eyes, obviously carefully listening to the nothingness around her.

Once she was satisfied the stillness was intact she made her way to the back of the garage. A massive masterpiece was centered in the back, hidden under a large tarp. The thick canvas was yanked hard under grasp and slide up the side of the bike then across the seat before settling at her feet. Stepping around it she kicked it to the wall and away from the tire of the revealed hog.

Another swift kick and the stand was removed making the large metal machine waver unsteadily til she gripped the handle bars. She stepped over the front tire, straddling it and leaned back. It took all her weight and careful steps backwards but the bike unhappily rolled with her across the garage floor.

Instead of taking it to the garage door she hauled it between two of Scott’s untouched foreign sports cars to the small side door at the other end. She fumbled with how to balance it while trying to press the access digits behind her. Unsuccessful, she slammed her hand on the wall, jerking her head in frustration.

She adjusted til she could lean against the wall beside the door. Stretching one leg out beside the bike she let go and the handle, letting the bike lean into her leg. She stumbled from the weight of it for a second but grabbed the trim around the door quickly correcting herself.

Sure that neither her nor the bike were going to fall she twisted her body around so that she could see the security keypad.

Her fingers quickly moved across the buttons and soon the tiny green light came on illuminating the a small square inch of the room.

Her hand slid down off the pad over the trim but was just short of reaching the door knob. She hopped on her one foot a little bit closer to the door. The extra jarring of the heavy motorcycle against her leg made her squinch her nose up but she still leaned as far as she could. Finally, she was able to wrap her fingers around it and with a sharp twist of her wrist the door fell completely open.

She lowered her leg, and wrapped both of them around the front tire to secure the bike from falling. That left her hands free to gather her long hair up into a pony tail high on top of her head. Next she brought the battered tags that hung around her neck to her lips and after a light kiss put them inside her body suit then zipped it the rest of the way up.

The bike didn’t go through the doorway willingly. The handle bars knocked several times against the doorframe, refusing to go out. It took some wiggling and a few more dents in the wood around the door before it relented and allowed her to pull it out of the garage.

A quick flash of metal shattered the grainy green image, sending sparks out of the monitor.

“I can’t believe she did that,” Marie said quietly from behind Logan. She was now fully covered in an added pair of sweat pants under the flannel shirt.

“I can,” he growled, retracting the claws back into his arm. He turned to Beast, who was trying to stay far out of the way. “What time was this?”

“Um..” The large blue doctor came forward tentatively and ejected the tap from the player. “The tap was from midnight to three, so probably some time between two and two-thirty this morning.”

“Maybe she just went out to blow off some steam,” Marie suggested. “She was pretty upset after the other night. We all were.”

“With guns strapped to her hips?” Logan huffed, cocking an eyebrow at her.

She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight onto one leg. “Well I wouldn’t be surprised. She is *your* daughter.”

“Oh, I see how it is. When she’s cleaning up in the Danger Room or reading to the little brats or something she’s yours. But when she’s stealing property and toting firearms she’s my kid!” He snapped back.

“Oh, please. Like she got that from me?!” She twisted a lock of platinum hair around her finger, an obviously sarcastically vacant look came onto her face, “...Which one of us just destroyed the security room t.v...?”

He pointed to the mentioned totaled equipment, “She stole my fucking bike!”

“I saw, Logan. But that stupid ass motorcycle is not what I’m worried about.”

His jaw dropped, “Did you just call my bike stupid? That ain’t what you said the other day when--”

“Logan!” She interrupted him. Sighing she stepped closer to him and leaned into his chest, running her hands lightly up and down his arms. “Pay attention for me, sugah, okay? Ricochet, the girl you wanted to make sure you got home safely? The same one who snuck out all cat burglar with automatic weapons attached to her? And is probably more than a little upset?..”

“Those weren’t automatic--” He stopped when she narrowed her eyes at him. “Alright, calm down, darlin’. She’s been gone, what, five maybe six hours? How much trouble could she get in?” He rationalized trying to reassure her.

“Again. I repeat: She’s *your* daughter.”

“First off, she ain’t MY daughter. Second, if one of us has a talent for getting in trouble its you, kid. Fucking little Timmy gets rescued less than you do.”

“And yet LASSIE isn’t always giving him shit for it.”

“I’m not giving you shit, I’m just saying--”

“Excuse me,” Beast stopped the bickering pair, lightly laying a hand on Marie’s shoulder and pulling them apart. “Maybe I suggest asking her friends? They seem extremely close, it is likely one of them knows something.”

“Fuck! Can I finish a sentence, please?!” He threw his hands up, eyeing both Marie and Beast.

“I think its better if you didn’t,” Marie hissed at him and pushed between the two large men, storming out of the room.

Logan watched her leave and searched for something to call after her but his mind was completely blank. Once she was gone he wheeled around to the other burly man in the room.

“Thanks the fuck a lot, Hank!”

Beast smirked and took his glasses off his face. Carefully he wiped them with a handkerchief he produced from his pocket. “I daresay, my friend, there was nothing you could have said to save yourself. Besides, she’s just upset about the girl.”

“Yeah, well, that makes two of us, bub.” He admitted and left Beast alone in the room, following out the way Marie went.