Logan felt out of his depth. Marie was so powerful, and so afraid, that while he was sure Xavier could help her, he needed to be sure she could be helped.
Which was why, although she was looking at him strange, he drove the kid first to the home of his sister Victoria. Thankfully, when they got to the boundary of Vic’s general telepathic radius, she put the kid to sleep.
Carrying her over his shoulder felt creepy but he needed a hand free to use his claws to hack at overgrown parts of the trail. It took hours, but when he felt the gentle tug of his sister’s gift, he knew he was going in the right direction.
His arrival at the stone building was pretty anticlimactic. Victoria wasn’t even out front to greet him. But then, this glade in the heart of the Appalachian Mountains was protected by traps, telepathic illusions and dead end trails.
‘Vic?’
‘Logan. Put her inside, I’m not far. Food should be
there somewhere, I’ll be back soon.’
‘You’ve read my mind?’
‘Of course. We were both combatants, once. Surely you remember how cautious we had to be?’
‘Yeah. So? Can you help her?’
‘I haven’t looked in her mind, I just wrapped her in the illusion of comfort to get her to sleep. From what your memories tell me, the poor thing’s been starved and abused. I can probably help her, but I can only do so much, Logan. My mind is programmed for combat.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re my brother, thanks are unnecessary.’
As he’d lain the kid down in the hammock in the foyer of the small stone house, he had carried on the conversation as he poked around his sisters’ old fashioned kitchen.
He wasn’t at all surprised when a short, lithe female in cargo pants and a worn long sleeve tee tiptoed through the back door, scuffed combat boots soundless on the decades old flagstone floor. With her dark hair pulled back in a long, low tail by a strip of leather, her brown eyes dancing, Victoria Creed Russell looked little older than Marie.
Yet, he knew better, though he couldn’t tell you how old she truly was. No one moved that gracefully, had that much control without a long lifetime of learning it. A quick hug before he bussed her cheek, with her pushing him away so she could inspect the girl in her front room.
He heard a rustle of fabric and the creak of old string before Marie’s voice, blearily questioning her whereabouts. Victoria replied
“It’s alright, kitten, you’re safe, that I promise you. My brother told me your name is Marie, and mine is Victoria, but please, call me Ria.”
More mumbling. Rolling his eyes, Logan exited his sister’s home, pulling out a cigar and considering what to do next.
AULD LANG SYNE
‘Rogue’ looked steadily at the woman in front of her. Not old, but not young either, if she was going to insist on the whole ‘kitten’ thing. Which, she mused, wasn’t that bad. Logan called her ‘kid’ because she was that to him. Victoria had used ‘kitten’ similarly- as an endearment.
Despite the watchful eyes, Victoria didn’t waver. Like her brother, she had an adamantine spine and steel will. For her, however, the first was figurative, not literal. Thick lashes swept down over brown eyes before flashing back up. For a moment, Rogue envied the other female her precise poise, then she tilted her head, just a little and said kindly
“You’re projecting, and rather loudly, kitten. The only reason I am so poised, as you believe, is that I’ve had a century to perfect my physical and emotional control, while retaining the body of someone in their prime.”
Agape, Rogue could only stare. With a chuckle, Victoria patted her clothed knee and turned to leave, calling over her shoulder
“Come on, dinner will be soon, and then, if you don’t mind a telepath poking around, we’ll see if you can’t gain a little control over your skin.”
Rogue stared for a moment, watching the easy slide of booted feet and the slightest swish of hips as Victoria walked through the doorway, laughing at something.
AULD LANG SYNE
Two Days Later
Logan sat down beside Rogue after a hard days training, a little amused at the shellshock on the girl’s face.
“She’s not perfect, kid. She would be the first person to tell you that. Vic has a nasty temper once you get it going, and she’s got a feud going with Nick Fury, the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. because he wouldn’t permit her to go on a mission with her husband. She went anyway, was the only reason the squad made it back, Fury was an ass about it, and she left.” Rogue processed that for a few minutes. Victoria was too short to be a model, too tough to be a girly girl, but she made it work. Part of Rogue wished she could be like that, but a larger part doubted it was possible.
Sighing, Logan started in again
“Time out of mind, my sister has been a beautiful woman other women envied and men lusted after. Her mutations are simple- fangs and combative telepathy- but powerful. She’s never let it go to her head, though. She’ll help you reach that place, if you let her.” Shaking her head, Rogue answered quietly
“But how? She’s amazing, and I’m…me.” A female chuckle, not gentle, but not unkind either, drifted to their ears as Victoria prowled out of the house.
“Oh kitten, I told you, a century hones you. Yes, it will be difficult for you to walk this road, but it’ll be worth it, I promise.” She knelt behind Rogue, pulling the girl into a hug.
“Once we’ve got a good grasp on what controls your mutation, Logan and I’ll discuss the next step. I want to train you here, but you need to be socialized and he knows a good school you can go to.” When the girl stiffens against the woman who has come to be something like a fiercely maternal older sister, Victoria reassures her
“There, there, shhh, I’ll go with you, and Logan will make sure we get there alright, and settled in before he goes back to work.”
Finally relaxing, Rogue starts in on the disciplines Victoria has deemed necessary for her to master. It takes a few false starts, and nearly a year since she met Logan, but she learns. She learns that in some areas, like mental combat, she is naturally gifted, but in others, like the hand to hand that makes up her morning routine, she must work hard.
For the first month or so, it is just Rogue, Wolverine and Scheherazade, the two elder mutants teaching the youngest everything they can. Tracking, hunting, survival skills, hand to hand, mental combat, all is poured into an eager recipient. After that first month, Logan’s former squad- Victoria’s too, Rogue learns at some point- turns up, two friends in tow.
Which is how Anna Marie D’Ancanto meets Jacob ‘Jack’ Russell (otherwise known as Werewolf by Night), N’Kantu the Living Mummy, Man Thing, Frankenstein’s Monster, Jackson Russell (Victoria and Jack’s son, a.k.a. Wolfman) and their allies: Deadpool and Gambit. Deadpool is Wade Wilson, who, upon discovering that the sight of his disfigured flesh doesn’t make the women squeak in terror, leaves the mask off entirely. Gambit is the younger ally of the Howling Commandoes, younger even than fresh faced Jackson, but he doesn’t hesitate to inform Rogue that his name is Remy Lebeau.
Logan, of course, informs Remy that flirting with his charge is a Bad Idea. Remy takes it with good grace, promising to ‘keep ‘is ‘ands off, Remy will’. Then Rogue is expected to take part in the Commandoes ‘relaxed’ training. Victoria comments with a smirk
“Well, Rogue, at least you’ll be able to help me stay in fighting fit once we’re at school.” Rogue laughs, neatly dodging a missile from Remy before tackling Jackson, using her newly discovered (and microscopic) telepathic reach to confuse him.
Of course, all good things must come to an end, she knows. So she packs up what little she has when Victoria says it’s time, hauling them all to a mall to outfit them both accordingly. Jackson surprises the others by volunteering as Rogue’s guard and training partner, but receives nods of approval, so he too, must be equipped properly.
Like Victoria, Rogue selects both functional, dark pants- loose jeans, cargoes- and fitted tanks, a few floaty dresses that get her a look from Logan and unlike Victoria, a few sets of gloves. Jackson, on strict orders from his mother, chooses not the militaristic look the entire family favours for civilian wear, but workout clothing, a few pairs of hard wearing jeans, with hiking boots and sports sneakers in place of his beloved combat boots. At Logan and Jacks’ urging, Victoria relents when Jackson points out the pros of leather jackets.
Jacksons’ is a biker jacket, with a pair of motorcycle boots and a motorcycle chipped in for ‘the cause’ when Gambit and Deadpool decide their ‘little buddy’ needs to make road patrols. Rogue glances at Victoria, aware she doesn’t want her baby to be hurt. The other woman shakes her head and walks off to select a knee length leather duster that sits snugly on her frame.
Snickering, Rogue finds one for herself, a nicely cut hip length leather jacket.
Within a week, Jackson’s motorcycle saddlebags are loaded, and Rogue and Victoria are packed into cherry red convertible sports car. Logan, after making a deal with his sister, has reclaimed his past and decided a motorcycle of his own is a good idea. He doesn’t show it, but when the others ply him with booze to celebrate, and Victoria and Marie outfit him and his
new bike, his heart hurts a little from feeling full.
Even though, technically, they are ready to go, by unspoken agreement, they wait until the Commandoes are called out again, Gambit and Deadpool don’t have jobs, not yet, so when the Russells have said their good byes, and the Commandoes are gone, they turn their own bikes to Xaviers’. Neither intends to stay, but do agree a motorcade escort for the two women is a good idea.
Many, many people stare at the procession, two bikes in tandem screaming in front, the sports car with two hot women whipping by at blazing speed, and followed by another two bikes, also in tandem.
It certainly surprises Xavier and his students when the Wolverine, a young man with a little resemblance and a red car pull in. Two motorcycles shoot past the mansion, acknowledged by the honk of a horn. Logan climbs off the first bike, a black beast with three silver lines on each side of the fuel tank, shaking his head and resettling his battered bike jacket.
Jackson has the female students swooning when he stands up, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. Stripping off his own jacket, he called
“I take it you’re Xavier, then? Uncle has spoken of you.” A catlike full body stretch, and the young man grinned, the trace of his fathers’ accent obvious. With a snort, Victoria exited the drivers side of the vehicle, and began her own series of stretches.
Rogue shook herself awake, drawling out the Southern twang when she asked
“Logan, sugar, you sure this is the place? They are staring at us like animals in a zoo.”
A roll of muscled shoulders and Logan finally spoke
“Well, Chuck, since you can’t read my mind, I’ll introduce you to the lovely people with me.” Flipping his thumb in the right direction, he explained
“My nephew, Jackson Russell, goes by Wolfman.” The son of ‘the best man to come out of Transylvania’ as Victoria has proclaimed her mate, cracks a grin and says politely, emphasizing his accent
“Tāmpiților.”
Victoria snickers, which means Logan points to her next
”My sister, Victoria Russell, who’s eighty years older than her son but doesn’t act like it.” A raspberry is all the answer she gives to her introduction. Ignoring her, he waves at Rogue and says with a threat implicit in his tone
”This is Vic’s protegee, Anna D’Ancanto, she mostly goes by Rogue.” And you will watch your step with her. The threat he implies is simple, but he knows the younger boys won’t listen. Fine by him. He and Jackson can handle anyone Marie can’t rebuff herself.
“V-Very well, Logan. Shall we?” Rogue shoots a look at Victoria, an invitation to initiate a telepathic channel. Easily, Scheherazade asks
‘Kitten?’
‘Is it just me, or has Logan completely knocked that
old guy for a loop?’
‘Heh, no, cub. That’s not you. Look sharp, blondie-
boy’s already moon eying you.’
A glance in the direction of said male
‘Blandie-boy, you mean. Logan and the Commandoes have completely ruined me for the male of the species.’
‘Prime jerk off material, though. All that muscle? Hmm, yum. Especially my Jack. Just don’t tell him I find Deadpool’s flexibility and Gambit’s acrobatic prowess interesting. He’s jealous like that.’
‘Good thing I’m just after Logan, or I’d have competition.’
‘Nah. Anyone who thought they could horn in on me would have to face Jack, Logan, and Jackson. You, though, my sweet chickadee, could have even that scrawny Visorhead eating out of the palm of your hand.’
‘Mmm, interesting thought, but still only want one man.’
‘That’s mating for you. When I realized how bad I needed Jack, I just about tore this one slut’s face off. It was amazing! I felt so powerful.’
‘Oh, ah, that’s…interesting but creepy. Hey, Logan’s back!’
‘Hmm? Oh, that, yeah, we got our room assignments. Let’s rock this!’
‘Hell yeah!’
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Author's Chapter Notes:
A/N: OI. THIS COULD, THEORETICALLY, SLOT IN BEFORE REVELATION, IF YOU WANT STREAM OF CONTINUITY. HOWEVER, IT IS INTENDED TO BE SLIGHTLY AU WHILE FITTING IN THE GENERAL ‘VERSE
Chapter End Notes:
A/N: tāmpiților- Romanian for morons. Jackson is not a potty mouth, he just believes he should say what he means, even if sometimes that means saying it in his fathers’ mother tongue rather than English