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Author's Chapter Notes:
I'm glad people enjoyed the intro to this story. It's a short one, maybe a three parter. I hope you guys like this next section!
“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.





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