“It looks like they’re getting younger.”

Looking up from his charts, Hank slid his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and looked over the group of X-Men staring at him; they all appeared understandably shaken. Hours earlier they arrived with two lifeless bodies from what was supposed to be an easy retrieval.

As it had been explained to him, the X-Men had suited up to collect a small group of children just coming into their powers; having known what it was like trying to survive the streets, Ororo made the decision to offer them a home.

However, upon arrival they were greeted by a crowd of weapon wielding bigots who had chased the children into a rusted warehouse that had been set ablaze. After making quick work of the unprepared men, they spent the next several minutes dousing flames and fishing youngsters out of the tiniest nooks in the building. They had almost been home free when Logan heard the cries of a young girl trapped behind one of the steel doors, without word he raced in their direction and after yelling instructions to prep the jet Ororo followed after him.

No one had seen the events of what happened next but the screams and blasting noises were enough to decipher a plausible story. The girl having feared that the men were after her once again, had screamed when Ororo and Logan came into view and acted on instinct. Holding out her arms, she unleashed her powers on the two senior members and knocked them to the ground.

From then on it had been a barrage of panic and hurried motions as the remaining X-Men rushed back to the mansion.

“Precisely.”

Still dressed in uniform, Kitty raised a questioning brow and glanced at Peter, Bobby and Rogue before crossing her arms. “What do you mean?”

“Our new friend Sabrina has the ability to revert individuals to their youth; the light blasts from her palms temporarily reconfigure the body and brain, making them both look and act as though they are back in the earlier stages of life.”

“So you’re saying that when they wake up…”

“They will be younger versions of themselves.”

Stunned by confusion and curiosity, they stood together and glanced out at the hospital beds where their leaders slept.

“That’s so…weird,” Bobby finally spoke up, turning to the furry doctor.

“Very,” Hank chuckled good-naturedly as he moved to his desk.

“So that means Logan’s gonna remember stuff from when he was a boy?”

“Excellent question my dear Marie, but I am afraid that assumption is false. From what she has observed, Sabrina has told me that the people who fall prey to her powers do not travel back in time nor are their memories or physical attributes affected permanently; instead it is as if they acquire a short bout of amnesia.”

“How long does it last?” The gentle giant at the far end spoke up.

“It could last hours or it could last days, there is no sure way of knowing.”

“How old're they gonna be?”

“It is impossible to calculate when they will stop growing backwards, we must simply wait out the process.”

Nodding in thoughtfulness, silence enveloped them for a time as they processed the information.

“If they turn back into babies, does that mean we’re going to have to feed and change them?”

Breaking into robust laughter, Hank wiped away the tears his amusement had conceived, “we will cross that bridge if necessary.”

“Dr. McCoy, Rogue and I just wanted to come down and see if…”

Kitty’s voice trailed as she stepped fully into the room and spotted Hank and what looked to be Ororo, resting at the center of the area. She was now perched on the edge of her bed, staring on in bemusement while the two girls in the doorway gaped shamelessly.

“Ah can’t believe it,” Rogue finally whispered, blinking several times to make sure her eyes were still in fine working condition.

“She looks…” Kitty’s words cutoff once again, still flabbergasted by her mentor’s physical change.

Raising a brow, Ororo tilted her head and glanced toward Hank.

“Should my accident have left me disfigured?”

“No my dear, what on earth would make you think that?”

“Well you all seem…taken aback by me; it’s become unsettling.”

“It is nothing of the sort,” Hank shook his head in negation, inwardly chuckling as he remembered his initial reaction. The uncanny resemblance Ororo bore to her younger self was astonishing, so much so that it took his mind several minutes to conclude that the young woman before him was in fact real.

“Then what is it?” Ororo asked, scrunching her brows as she looked on in confusion.

As they slept, Hank and the rest of the team decided that they would not attempt to explain the entire ordeal to either Ororo or Logan. Because the change ran no risk of becoming permanent, they felt it unnecessary to muddle their friends with anxiety, especially given that they were still unaware of how long the effects would last.

Instead, they conjured up a half truth that he easily relayed to Ororo upon her awakening. She had been told that while on a mission with the X-Men, she and another were knocked unconscious by their opponent, and that the blows she took had caused temporary amnesia. He could tell in her posture that she hadn’t been altogether trusting of his explanation, but she seemed to accept it once she realized that she was unable to pull contradicting memories from her mind.

“Were jus’ happy yer okay Miss-”

“Miss Thang,” Kitty interrupted suddenly, trying to cover Marie’s near mishap. Once aware of what she’d blurted, she blushed and began to stutter nervously as Ororo’s unimpressed eyes zoned in on her. “I…it’s what I….” the girl latched onto Marie’s cloth covered arm and smiled timidly, “it’s what we like to call you…because you’re so great.”

Clearing his throat Hank swooped in to save the girls from their worsening situation, “Marie and Kitty would you two be kind enough to show her to her room?”

“Am I free to go?” Ororo’s tension quickly released as she moved her focus back to the large doctor.

“Yes, you are quite well and I do not wish to keep you restricted to this drab area.”

“I must admit I was beginning to feel a bit confined,” Ororo smiled widely as she stood. Turning, she moved toward the other women, but stopped just short of them. “Would you show me the way?”

“We’d love ta show ya yer room,” Marie replied and Kitty nodded in agreement, both seemingly glad to have cleared of their mistakes.

*

“These can’t be mine,” Ororo held her short silk robe around her body as she squinted at the clothes in her closet; though many of them were very sleek and sophisticated, they all looked, and were according to their tags, one size too big.

Standing back, she pulled the tie tighter around her waist and rested her hands on her hips while she stared at the hanging items curiously; this made everything much more suspicious. First there had been the shoddy explanation for her condition, it wasn’t implausible but there were definitely missing details. Then there were the girls, her friends they called themselves, but they regarded themselves more like her children or at the very least younger siblings which wouldn’t be too questioning if they weren’t just a year younger than she was. There was also her room, while beautifully decorated and lovely to an extreme, she found it odd that such a mature setting would belong to her, an eighteen going on nineteen girl with a bit of a wild streak. And now, there was this, an area filled with her clothes that didn’t seem to be hers at all.

But while she didn’t exactly trust the place, part of her felt that this was where she belonged. Deciding to stay put until she could figure out her next move, she reached at the back of the closet for a pair of denim jeans.

“I guess I’ll have to make due with what I have .”

Moving back into the room, she rummaged through a few drawers and found panties and a gray tank top. Pulling on each item, she frowned at the way they fit and how constricted they made her feel.

Stepping to the large dresser at her right, she searched through it and finally found a medium sized pair of scissors. Stripping herself of everything but her undergarments, she held up the pants and eyeballed them before making quick cuts to the legs. Shifting focus to her top she closed one eye, then sliced at it’s hem. Dressing herself again, she stood in front of the body length mirror at the corner of the room and smiled.

“Much better.”

*

“Where the hell am I an’ who the fuck’re you?”

Hank winced at the language used by the now younger Wolverine, though he hadn’t known what to expect from his often crass friend, he had hoped for a touch of improved manners.

“Gonna answer me big guy or do ya need a little help?” Logan threatened with a growl while letting his claws protrude through his knuckles.

“That won’t be necessary, I do not wish to bring you any harm Logan.”

“How do ya know my name?” Logan grumbled, still holding his claws in line of vision.

“Ah that explanation is a fairly simple one,” Hank grinned and rubbed the fur on his jaw. “You take residence here and we,” he chuckled, “despite all odds, have become friends.”

Shifting, Logan’s eyes darted from corner to corner, examining the room as they went. Though he’d never admit it, he secretly hoped that some part of his mind was able to identify the area. Finally, after being unable to sense dishonesty, he retracted his claws.

“Why don’t I remember?”

For the next few minutes Hank retold the story, pausing every so often to check if Wolverine would uncover the clouded truth. At several points it was obvious that he had suspected something foul but he offered no remarks, instead Logan stood still and let him finish.

“When can I get outta this room and this stupid suit?” Logan questioned as Hank’s tale dwindled to its end.

“Let us run through a quick examination then I shall escort you to your private quarters.”

Though annoyed that he wasn’t allowed to leave quickly, Logan assessed that nothing particularly bad could come out of a few more minutes with this man. Despite remaining weary of the blue, oversized stranger in front of him, something about the environment felt familiar. And it wasn’t like he couldn’t take care of himself if a problem should arise, so he glowered and stayed put.

“Fine.”

*

“What the shit? These ain’t mine,” Logan growled, throwing the large stogie back into the box on his dresser; while he wouldn’t turn down the offer of one, he always felt that cigars were the treat of world wise men and at his age, he hadn’t felt he’d earned the right to enjoy them yet.

“I need ta get me some damn smokes.”

Rubbing a hand over his face and through his growing mutton chops, Logan groaned and moved to the drawer at his far right. Pulling it open he grabbed a t-shirt and yanked it over his head. Grumbling at its looseness, he scratched fingers over the light stubble on his chin and plopped on the bed as he reached for his boots.

Nothing seemed completely right about this place. Sure the room had his scent all over it, sure most of the style was too his liking, but there had been things that got his hackles up; like the cigars, the oversized clothes, the way he was steered away from other inhabitants of the house he supposedly lived in, the undeterred kindness of the doctor who’d examined him, the altogether wholesomeness of the environment. He had never been part of something as inherently good as this place seemed to be nor could he imagine a loose cannon like himself, being so comfortable settling here.

There had to be a catch somewhere, and he was going to find it.

*

“Did ya see them? Droolin’ all over her like we weren’t even there?”

“Bobby’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head and Pete almost had a heart attack,” Kitty snarled as she and Marie ranted about the boys’ behavior.

Minutes ago Storm had come sauntering through the doorway while they were all in the kitchen setting up for breakfast. The guys took one look at her and their tongues were wagging; and it might have been funny if it wasn’t for the lack of attention they seemed to have for their girlfriends once she caught interest in what they were doing.

“I can’t believe Peter asked me to move aside for her.”

“Ah can’t believe Bobby gave her mah chair!”

“I hope they see how ridiculously they’re being,” Kitty started as her they made it to Logan’s door, raising her hand she knocked lightly. “I mean it’s not like she’s actually going to give them a second glance when she gets back to normal. They’re acting like chil-”

Kitty’s voice cut off as Logan opened the door and crossed his arms, staring at them with his infamous, predatory eyes.

“Yeah?” His gravelly voice rumbled while he occupied the doorway.

Marie and Kitty both stood shell-shocked and humorously mute. Their eyes scanned him unabashedly; he was still tall and muscular, but much more lean than he’d been a day before, his eyes seemed a brighter more lively shade, his hair was still untamable and wild, but looked much less coarse than it appeared most other times, his chosen attire and obvious swagger made him the quintessential bad boy.

“Where’d ya get those?” Logan spoke, pointing at the tags hanging around Marie’s neck; although he couldn’t fathom where he might have gotten them, he couldn’t squash the feeling that they had somehow belonged to him.

With wide eyes, Marie looked down at the dog tags he’d graced her with years earlier, before going away the first time.

“Yah gave ‘em ta me.”

“You my girl or somethin’?”

Swooning, Marie nearly fainted as his question hit her ears. Opening her mouth to speak but unable to summon her voice, she blinked and stared at Logan, leaving him to find his own conclusive answer.

Nah I ain’t inta jailbait, I can at least remember that much about myself, he thought as his eyes shifted between the too young girls in front of him.

Suddenly without provocation, Logan’s stomach roared. Forgetting about the tags, he glanced at the two still ogling him.

“Either a ya know where a guy can get some grub?”

“Breakfast,” Kitty finally spoke up, “we came to get you because breakfast is almost ready.”

Nodding, he looked on and waited for them to start walking, or at the very least provide him directions; he sniffed in irritation when neither of them spoke up.

“Do I gotta find the food myself?”

“We’ll help!” Marie squealed happily, looping her arm around his as she looked up at him dreamily.

“Sure we will!” Kitty yelled grinning, mimicking her friend’s actions as she moved to hug his other side.

"Great," Logan muttered under his breath as he was led down the stairs for breakfast, uncomfortably squished between his new found admirers.

A/N: I apologize for getting this up later than anticipated; but I'm glad I've got it up now. Thanks to everyone who had reviewed, I appreciate the feedback :) Hopefully you readers enjoy the next part.

*

“Do you think seeing us with him will make them jealous?”

“Ah don’t know but even if it doesn’t, Ah’m gonna enjoy it.”

Groaning at their girlish whispers (and horrible attempts at suppressing them), Logan’s straight lined mouth turned downward into a deep-set frown as he continued to march along the corridor with his two escorts.

When the giggling beside him intensified, Logan quickened his strides; if he had known getting a plate of food would be this excruciating, he might have willingly starved.

Tuning out his guides by enhancing other senses, Logan’s nose picked up the heavenly scent of breakfast emanating from behind the next corner. Stomach rumbling uncontrollably, he moaned and quickly flipped toward the door, swinging into the kitchen without hesitation.

Ignoring the stares he knew the crowd of people in the room were sending his way, he stalked to the counter and took a whiff. It smelled…delicious, hearty, like the kind of meal strapping young men came home for, the kind their women (wives, lovers, mothers) slaved over the stove to make perfect.

Lips curling at the image of getting to sit down and enjoy it, he turned and examined his surroundings. It was then that his eyes quickly caught and held the sight of the bulky Russian beside him, wearing an apron and clasping a large spatula.

Blinking, Logan quirked a brow and let out a disbelieving chuckle.

“Yer shittin’ me right? Ain’t no way you coulda made somethin’ that smells that good.”

“And why on the goddess’s earth could he not?”

Scowling at the haughty, argumentative tone of the statement made behind him, Logan’s head snapped toward the voice’s owner.

Any annoyance he felt by the challenging comment drifted when his gaze roved tanned, shapely legs and tiny denim cut-offs wrapped around inviting hips; stare slowly moving upward, he also allowed himself to enjoy the toned abdomen and more than ample breasts on display.

But even the killer body was no match for the rest of the package; plump lips, strong facial lines and beautiful sky blue eyes that sparkled with contained voracity, all topped by a wild heap of snowy hair that looked far too unnatural to be real.

It took everything in him to restrain the appreciative growl building in his throat.

This one was different than all the other females he’d seen so far; though obviously young (eighteen by his guess), she had an air of maturity that swirled around her. And the way she stood with her arms crossed over her chest, a scowl etched on her face seemingly ready to attack if he said the wrong thing, made him believe that she had a set even the other guys in the room couldn't boast.

Plus, she was stacked like a goddamn Lumberjack Slam from Denny’s.

“’Cuz he ain’t a skirt.”

Standing back against the counter, Logan smirked as he watched the young woman’s eyes blaze; he had definitely pushed the right button.

“Of all the barbaric things someone could say!” Waving her now uncrossed arms, Ororo glared at the chauvinistic man in front of her. “I will not tolerate your unsolicited remarks, men and women are equals and should be treated as such.”

“Yer one of them flower ladies ain’t cha?”

“Excuse me?”

“Ya know the kind that don’t shave,” grinning Logan ran his eyes over her, enjoying the effects his futile comments had, “any part of their bodies.”

Huffing her aggravation, Ororo stepped to Logan quickly and faced him straight on. Just as she was ready to let loose, Hank cheerfully marched through the door.

“Morning all,” he called, not looking up from the documents in his hand until he realized that no one had offered him a welcoming response. Glancing up, his eyes widened as he saw Logan and Ororo near the counter, him with a self-satisfied expression, her with one of obvious anger. He might have been concerned had this not already been an established weekly event.

Folding his papers and sliding them into his shirt pocket, Hank smiled and moved toward them, easily drawing their attention.

“Ah Ororo, Logan; it seems you two have finally met.” Before either could get a comment in, he continued speaking, “you were both affected on the last mission.”

Turning her head in slight surprise, Ororo narrowed her eyes. “Do you mean to tell me that this man is my teammate?”

“Indeed he is,” Hank gleamed.

“I suppose one does not need to care much for the person she is trying to save,” Ororo replied coolly, turning away from Logan to help gather eating utensils.

“Guess not darlin’,” he snorted, tilting his head slightly to ensure he got the best angle of her curves, “but I’m sure it was me havin’ ta save yer ass.”

Jaw tight, Ororo shot daggers at Logan and was about to pounce when Hank interrupted with polite conversation.

“Piotr my boy, is breakfast finished?”

“It is ready to be served,” the boy nodded, understanding Dr. McCoy’s strategy. Moving his attention to the others, he glanced around the room and smiled warmly. “Would anyone care to help with the task?”

“Sure,” Kitty volunteered immediately, smiling as Peter grinned back at her.

“Ah guess I can lend a hand,” Rogue answered, stepping up beside her friend.

Eyes still focused on Logan, Ororo walked forward. “Yes, I suppose I will offer my services as well.”

Just as Logan opened his mouth to add a quick-witted reply Hank patted his and Bobby’s shoulders, and led them toward the door.

“Come, let us prepare the table while they work in here.”

*

“No I will be alright.”

“You sure? We could have a slumber party.”

Wincing at the idea behind the semi-opened bedroom door, Ororo yawned loudly hoping her friends would catch on. When they didn’t and continued standing in the hallway, she sighed.

“I believe I am too tired to find anything but sleep enjoyable. Maybe we can schedule this party for tomorrow night?”

“Gotcha, we’ll see ya tomorrow. Come on Kitty,” Rogue grabbed her friend and dragged her from the room.

Smiling as they went, Ororo shut the door and leaned against it as she combed fingers through her hair. While she was tired, it wasn’t because of physical strain; her young friends were quite rambunctious (and so were the young boys who seemed to follow her around).

Though her day had been fairly uneventful and mostly spent in the rec room (because she none to subtly was banned from most outside areas) something she found both abhorring and suspicious, she was after all a child of nature; the girls talking her ears off and asking for advice became a bit much after a time.

Shaking her head, she removed her clothing and searched through her drawers for something comfortable to sleep in. Her first choice might have been to lay in the nude, but as invasive as everyone seemed to be, she decided not to encourage peeping from her colleagues.

After a few seconds, her fingers pinched a thin silky nightgown that she deemed perfect for the circumstance. Pulling it out, she dropped it over her head and let it drape over her body. Once satisfied, she moved toward the bed and readied her covers and pillows. Happy with her work, she climbed onto the mattress and laid under the blankets for several moments before noting that her balcony doors were closed.

Irritated by the idea that someone might have come in her room to shut them, Ororo lifted herself from the bed, walked to the large doors and carefully pushed them open.

Closing her eyes, she took in the cool and calming breeze of the night. It made her feel free, often lifting her mood a great deal. She couldn’t for the life of her fathom out why Dr. McCoy or the others would want to keep her away from unfettered nature.

Pursing her lips, she popped open her eyes and leaned forward over the balcony that overlooked the mansion grounds. Letting her gaze travel to various spots, she noticed that none seemed to be occupied.

Quirking a brow, she smiled and effortlessly climbed up on the edge of the brick wall. Giving one last scan of the area, she hopped from the ledge and used her powers to maneuver through the sky.

*

Flicking a match, Logan held the glowing flame to the tip of the cigar between his lips and puffed slowly to get it burning. As it lit, he sighed contently and fell back against one of the trees out near the lake he’d discovered earlier when wandering the grounds (even after they’d told him not to).

Closing his eyes, he felt the air hit his chest as smoke billowed around him. Logan relished the outdoors; something about it centered him, soothing the raging personality beneath his character. He believed that was why he sought the outside freedom so often.

Sudden rustling at the tops of the trees pushed him on guard. Crouching, he slunk out of vision and dropped in the shadows behind a patch of leaves. Staring up, he watched as a familiar figure came into view.

Staying back, Logan observed her as she descended to the ground and walked a small path, touching each plant she passed with reverence and care. Moving further along, she made it close to the lake and tentatively dipped a toe into the water.

“Be careful darlin’ I don’t wanna have ta go in there ta save ya.”

Turning her head quickly, Ororo crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head at her unexpected guest’s remark.

Smirking, the rough edged man sauntered toward her as he pulled the cigar from his mouth and put it out against his palm before stuffing it into his jean pocket.

“I ain’t much of a swimmer,” Logan rumbled as he settled in front of her.

Much to his surprise and hers, Ororo loosen the hold she had on herself and released an amused chuckle.

“I shall try to keep out of harm’s way.”

Squinting, Logan tilted his head and studied her again; she stood on the ground barefoot, letting the blades of grass poke out from between her toes as her fingers brushed the bark of a nearby tree, while the wind sent her illuminated wisps of hair in several directions. She seemed to enjoy mother nature just as much, if not more than he did.

“Did ya finally pull the stick outta yer ass?”

“No one could ever accuse you of being a great conversationalist could they?” Ororo replied, a hint of offense in her voice, but that quickly drifted as another gust of wind pushed through her mane.

Snorting at her smart-assed retort, Logan looked out at the sky and joined her in silence. They stood that way for a while, in a pleasant quietness that neither had the luxury of experiencing throughout their first day of recovery.

Breathing deeply Ororo sided glanced at her companion, taking a few moments scrutinize him. Tall, muscular, and broad shouldered; those traits alone would surely put him at the top of any heartthrob list, but it was his other features that she found so incredibly endearing (though she might never admit aloud). He was scruffy with muttonchops and facial hair whose growth seemed far too accelerated for someone who looked as young as she did, but she had a feeling that he was much older or at the very least more experienced than her eighteen years. His eyes were steely, intense and a beautiful shade of blue; and his hair was jet black and formed the most adorable set of peaks at its top. The tough guy persona he emitted, although at times quite rude, only added to his appeal.

“I must admit, you are wonderful company when you aren’t speaking.”

“Right back at cha darlin’.” Logan shot slyly, obviously entertained by her discreet perusal of him. He enjoyed it thoroughly, especially since it allowed him the time to get a look at her in that short silky number she was wearing.

“This place is lovely,” Ororo spoke softly and Logan grunted his agreement, making her smile for a moment. But then her mood dropped.

“Why would they not allow us to venture here?” She asked quietly, more of a musing then a real question, but that didn't deter Logan from providing his opinion.

“They’re hidin’ somethin’ that’s why.”

Scrunching her brows, she turned her focus to him.

“Why do you say that?”

“The blue guy was lyin’.”

Frowning because she too had felt that she wasn’t always given the truth about their situation, Ororo shifted her body and gave Logan her full attention.

“How can you be certain?”

“I smelled it when he was explainin’ things ta me earlier.”

“Smelled?” She asked, eyebrows now raising comically.

Snickering, Logan reached up and tapped the side of his nose with his index finger. “Enhanced senses sweetheart, I can tell when someone’s lyin’, when they’re angry,” pausing he ran his eyes over her and leered, “when they’re interested. All that good stuff.”

Suddenly aware of her attire, Ororo covered her body as much as she could without being too noticeable. However picking up on his smug expression, she rolled her eyes and deemed herself unsuccessful.

“What do you believe Dr. McCoy was embellishing? Do we really live here?”

“Yeah, we live here; our smells’re all over this place. But alotta things don’t add up.”

“That I can certainly agree with,” Ororo nodded then turned her tone serious. “What do you suggest we do?”

“‘Bout what?”

“Do you not want to find out the truth?”

“Ta be honest, I’d rather get outta here. Come sunrise, I’m breakin’ out one of them bikes in the garage an’ runnin’ loose.”

Surprised and a little crestfallen, Ororo played with the hem of her nightgown.

“You would just leave? These people seem to care about us.”

Logan grumbled rubbing his fingertips together.

“Look I ain’t sayin’ they don’t, maybe they do. But there ain’t no one else caged or havin’ ta be supervised by a group of ten year old geeks the way me and you’ve been. I’d rather set my own terms.”

Contemplating his words, Ororo blinked and stared out at the moon.

“It is getting late, I must retreat to my quarters.”

Offering as much of a genuine smile as he might ever give, Logan nodded and flipped the cigar from earlier between his fingers.

“Do what ya gotta do darlin’.”

Lips spreading without her permission, she regarded him warmly.

“Good night Logan.”

And with that, she was off riding the winds of the dark sky.

*

Striding down the pathway to the garage, Logan counted the small wad of bills from his wallet. It wasn’t much, but he’d have enough to make it to the nearest town that hosted underground fighting rings. Grinning to himself, he stuffed the dollars back into their leather holding and munched the cigar between his teeth; he’d definitely make his lot there, and have a little fun while he was doing it.

Getting to the door, he shoved it open and continued on to the bike he had seen hours ago. Even in the dark she had been a real beauty, whoever owned it was going to miss the hell out of her, but Logan couldn’t find enough sympathy in him to actually care.

Fixing the black Stetson on his head, he scratched his boots against the concrete before finally looking up.

His eyes nearly bugged out as they fixed on his getaway vehicle; it seemed to be carrying one unanticipated accessory.

“Take me with you.”

Still speechless Logan ran his gaze over the woman, wearing her same tiny shorts and shirt from the day before, except now she added a pair of boots and a hair band, lifting her once free locks into a ponytail. She was very casually seated on the old-fashioned motorcycle, and unknowingly creating a great memory for him.

“Will you take me?” Ororo pleaded, staring at Logan with her crystal eyes.

“No,” came the very gruff, very disappointing response.

“Why not?” She huffed indignantly, dropping her hands to her hips as he moved closer to the bike and attached his nearly empty duffel to the side.

“’Cuz I don’t like ridin’ partners; at least not the ones that’re only gonna ride my bike.” He chuckled as her cheeks turned a darker shade of pink and shooed her away from the seat. “You’ll only slow me down.”

“If you will not take me, I will simply follow you,” Ororo argued, satisfied with her own solution.

“Why don’t ya just head somewhere on yer own?” Logan questioned, easily straddling the hog as he spoke.

“I do not wish to be trapped here,” she stared directly into his eyes as she spoke, “but I must admit that I also fear taking the steps away from here alone. I promise not to be a burden.”

She looked entirely sincere in her words; his tough resolve cracked for just a moment. Logan mumbled under his breath, gripping the handle bars tightly as his mind battled.

“Fuck,” he grumbled, then reached below and handed her a helmet. “Here, don’t want that pretty little head of yers ta crack open.”

Excited, Ororo leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek. Jumping behind him, she scooted as close to his back as physically possible.

“This will be quite an adventure.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Logan rolled his eyes, mostly at himself for basking in her thank-you peck. “Just get yerself situated, I wanna get outta here today.”

Smiling, Ororo tucked her hair into the helmet and wrapped her arms around Logan’s midsection.

“I’m ready!”

“Good,” Logan glanced back for a quick inspection, then revved up the engine. “Let’s hit the road.”

*

“What is that infernal racket?” Hank spoke to himself as he yawned sleepily in his bed, listening as the annoying noise slowly drifted away.

Blinking, he rolled and checked the clock at his bedside; frowning at the time he stood, approached the bathroom and went about his morning routine.

An hour and a half later, he sat in the kitchen nursing a large cup of coffee while reading over the New York Times.

“Morning Dr. McCoy.”

“Good morning Catherine,” he replied with a smile. “How is the day treating you?”

“Wonderful,” she responded with a polite grin of her own as she moved toward the fridge. Grabbing the orange juice, she lifted on her tiptoes and pulled a glass from one of the cupboards. “So Storm was a late sleeper when she was younger huh?”

“Quite the contrary she was always up before everyone, myself included.”

Shrugging, she poured her drink and faced him. “That’s weird, maybe she’s still just tired from yesterday.” Taking a sip, she tilted her head and ran a hand through her ponytail. “Logan too I guess, I haven’t seen him either.”

Turning toward her, everything in Hank’s brain intersected; the early morning disturbance, the residents missing. Eyes widening, he dropped the paper from his hands and spit out his drink.

“Oh my stars and garters!”