Story Notes:
Just got new comp and new programs to go with it. This is basically a test run of the system, no bigger deal behind this scribble. If you find something that disturbes, talk to me. I won't know better if you fume in silence.
He felt out of place. So goddamned out of place, like a fucking bull in a shop full of china. He guessed he looked like one as well, sitting on a plush velvet couch, cradling a delicate porcelain cup in his hands, trying his best not to crush the damn thing. Finally he opted to place the cup down to a small table in front of him. For some reason his current company looked vastly relieved after he managed to bring the thin as a sheet of paper ceramic down without shattering it.

“So. As you can see from the paperwork, everything is in order. There’s a place for your daughter at Xavier’s, all costs taken care of, and you probably read the fliers Xavier sent for you in advance. Any questions?” He asked from the middle-aged couple sitting in front of him. They traded a quick glance, looking quite scared and hesitant. Then the woman cleared her throat. “I understood that one of the professor’s would be taking care of Marie during her journey to Westchester. I don’t mean to be rude, but… What is it that you’re professor at, Mr. Logan?” She asked with slightly trembling voice.

He just about choked to the cookie he had been chewing. Chewed thoughtfully the rest of it, remembering to swallow before answering. “Art. I teach art to those rugrats.” Two pairs of disbelieving eyes scanned him from head to toe. Unruly hair swept to devilish peaks, fuzzy muttonchops in dire need of trimming, battered leather jacket with white T-shirt underneath, jeans that had clearly seen better days and heavy biker boots. “This is of course my travel gear…” He explained hastily. “Xavier is going at great length at making sure that all the children trusted in his care receive top notch quality training.” “I see… Another biscuit, Mr. Logan?” The woman asked, handing out the tray. “Uh… No, thank you, Mrs. D’Ancanto. I’d really like to get going. I have a long drive ahead.” The tray disappeared with the woman in to the adjoining kitchen, and he was left in to the living room with Mr. D’Ancanto who leaned back on his armchair, his eyes never leaving Logan.

“Let’s cut the crap, ‘Professor Logan’, shall we?” The man asked. “If you as much as breathe the wrong way at my daughters company, there’s a world of hurt waiting for you.” “I can assure you that…” “I don’t give a damn about your assurances, Mr. Logan. We both know perfectly well how legit that professure of yours is. Frankly, I’m amazed that Professor Xavier saw it fit to trust our daughter to the hands of some drifter, but… You get her to Westchester unharmed, and I’ll let it slide,” Mr. D’Ancanto said with a cool voice. “Do you have any idea of what is waiting out there?” Logan asked, quite miffed that the suburban dipshit saw it fit to hand out warnings and threats to him. “There’s a world of hurt waiting for us muties. Xavier sent me, because I’m the one man that can actually haul your precious daughter alive and unharmed through this fucked up world. I know what’s out there, I know who wants to have a piece from us, and most importantly, I know how to stop them having that piece.”

Again evaluating glance swept over him. Mr. D’Ancanto nodded and straightened his stance a bit. “My apologies if I have insulted you. But I need you to understand, that Marie means a world to me and my wife. We… If it would be possible, we wouldn’t be sending her to another side of the country just to get proper schooling, but at current situation we couldn’t even imagine to send her to any of the communal colleges, let alone most of the universities. It just isn’t safe. And again I must apologize, but you don’t strike me as a teacher of any kind, and I’m having hard time in believing that you’d be the best company for my daughter.”

Logan rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was quickly developing a world-class headache which, considering his mutation should have been impossible.

“Mr. D’Ancanto… Truth to be told it means exactly jack shit to me if you’re sending your daughter to Xavier or not. If she stays home, I’ll go my way. No harm done. If she comes to Westchester we have to get going now. Which is it going to be?” He practically growled. “Oh, Thomas! Would you stop that. I’m sure that Mr. Logan will take good care of Marie,” Mrs. D’Ancanto scolded her husband from the doorway leading to the kitchen. “Marie! Your ride is here!” She shouted over her husband’s protests.

Finally. He was about to blurt it out loud, but one look from Mr. D’Ancanto made him change his mind. Instead he stood up and turned to look as his charge to be sprinted down the stairs leading to the second floor of the house, large duffle bag hanging from her shoulder, genuinely huge teddy bear stuffed under her left arm. And nearly swallowed his tongue.

Teddy bear did nothing in masking her true age. She was sixteen, and looked like every bit of it. Curvaceous body, long and sable hair cascading over her shoulders and down her back. Twinkling, chocolate brown eyes full of curiosity and excitement, lush lips slightly parted to reveal the miniscule gap between her pearly front teeth, her clothing unable to hide her luscious body.

He damn near whimpered before he got himself under control. Wouldn’t do to drool after a student. Especially in front of a concerned father who had most likely seen his initial reaction and was now regarding him with pure malice on his face.

“Mss. D’Ancanto,” he greeted her, taking her gloved hand to a quick shake. “Are you ready to go?” He asked, feeling the eyes of her father drilling holes at his back. The girl seemed to be completely unaware of the tension in the room. She smiled, relief shining radiating from her whole being. “As ready as I will ever be. Are we going?” She asked.

Logan turned to look at Mr. D’Ancanto who stood by his wife now and nodded. The girl skipped to where her parents stood and hugged them both, whispering her goodbyes.
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