Chapter 1 – January

Chapter Synopsis: Storm was simply out with her class on a field trip when she encounters two mutant teenagers who seem to need her help. She brings them back to the mansion where the story unfolds…

& Key Points: First of all, Angel came off to me as the shy, sensitive, sweet guy next door kind of guy. So that's how he's going to be portrayed. As for Kitty and Bobby…I hate them. I know that most people like them so I won't be mean to them but I really do hate them. With a passion. &

He opened up his sketch book, carefully flipping through the pages. Each displayed the same creature upon the page, the same beautiful and breathtaking creature the entire mansion had come to know as January. Page after page was marked with her image, sketched roughly in pencil, messily portrayed in charcoal, or colored vibrantly in watercolors. In some she was lying beneath the willow tree on campus, arms folded behind her head and eyes closed. In others she was sitting at a desk, concentrating on whatever she happened to be working on. His drawings were spectacular but he never thought he did her justice.

He fingered the next to last page, the pad of his thumb gently stroking the painted cheek of his repetitive model. What had once started as examples for his class had become something he felt he needed to do. He was just grateful that she had agreed to pose for him for the very first time he had ever drawn her. Her hourglass figure, a pair of the longest legs he had ever encountered, stretched across his first page and began to take shape as quite possibly his best sketch. But her face had been the hardest to capture for he had a hard time making it perfect. It was hard to perfect something that was already, in his eyes, perfected. Her eyebrows, thin and arched over her large eyes as if to frame them. Her lips, full, always pulled into the sweetest smirk he had ever seen. Her facial expressions were so complex that he needed much time to decipher each and every aspect of every one. The way one eyebrow was usually positioned higher than the other, the way her eyes seemed to narrow without looking angry unless she really was, and even the proper portioning of her lips as she smirked.

He began on his last page, sketching in the center surrounded by samples of her eyes, her smile, her hands. His pencil started forming the lines that would come together to create her. His eyes flickered up from the page and his moving pencil to study her before returning back to the drawing.

She was lying on her side, her head falling onto the pillow to face him. Her eyes were hidden by their lids as she slept soundly and peacefully. Her arms were laced together, hands positioned beneath her cheek like a second pillow. Her legs were curled up and she was formed into a graceful ball. Her hair was pushed away from her face as light from the window poured in to act as a spotlight. She was more beautiful than a first snow. More beautiful than they sky after a rainstorm, a rainbow ribbon wrapping itself around the endless blue. More beautiful than anything he could ever conjure up in his imagination.

How he ached for her. Even now, when she belonged to him, a deep ache afflicted his chest when he caught a glimpse of her, when he thought about her, when they touched. But it was a wonderful ache and how he loved it. He hoped and prayed with every inch of him, with every feather that patterned his wings, that it would never go. If there truly was a God, and he was quite sure that there was one, he would never take that feeling from him. It was what he looked forward to when he opened his eyes to the morning and what kept him up with a wide smile stretched across his face. That wonderful ache that was January.

Storm felt as though there were two of her. There were two sides to her entire existence, in fact there were two existences. On one hand she was Storm, the mutant teacher from Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Storm was strong and determined, a wonderful teacher loved by her students for she knew what it was like to be ostracized for her powers. But on the other very distant hand, she was Ororo Monroe, the sensual young woman who occasionally went out for a night on the town with her friends and confidants, as well as out on romantic dates with her fiancé.

She had first started thinking about this age old topic as she caught sight of herself in the glass as she walked past another exhibit. She touched her mocha skin, fingers moving up and running through her jagged, white hair. Though with oddly colored hair, men were still very much drawn to her. She was undeniably gorgeous though that was the least of her concerns. Even if she hadn't been engaged to Kurt she would still give any who approached the cold shoulder. And it wasn't because she was snobby or thought of herself as the loveliest female in the entire world. It was because though Kurt was trying very hard to help her deal with her anger, she still hated the men and women who were not like her. The ones who weren't mutants. And she hated them because of one simple fact. They hated her.

Lifting her head, forgetting the image of herself, she met eyes with Kurt himself. She wondered how long he had been standing there but went against asking and instead smiled, her frosted lips parting to reveal sparkling teeth. He returned her smile though it seemed as though he were always smiling. He was such a vibrant individual and that was one of the reasons Storm was drawn to him. He had such a positive outlook on life though he was also a mutant. She often scolded herself for being so hateful of humans. Kurt had more than enough trouble hiding his dark blue skin, long tail, and pointed teeth. And still, despite the rude remarks, he managed to keep his optimism going strong.

"How do you like the museum?" She asked warmly, taking his hand into her own. They began to walk through the corridors together, ignoring the stares and whispers. Kurt's baseball cap and tucking his tail into the inside of his jeans didn't seem to help much in disguising what he was.

"Very interesting. It is very large, so much to see. Almost another world in and of itself." He remarked, looking from exhibit to exhibit with awe splashed across his features. His golden eyes were lit up and sparkled from all of the excitement. Storm giggled, squeezing his hand.

"I'm glad you like it. The students seem to enjoy coming – or maybe they just like the out of class time." She watched as students of hers clustered together in groups, laughing and chattering about whatever they had to talk about. Some even mingled with the humans, and this pleased her. Just because she felt anger towards them didn't mean that they had to. She would rather they were untainted anyhow.

"Ororo," he had taken to using her real name, "what is troubling you?" Kurt stopped and turned towards her, his hand moving to take hold of her face. She leaned into his touch and sighed heavily, closing her eyes as if to shut out everyone and everything else besides the two of them.

"I just wish that they could accept me. I wish I didn't have to be two different people, two very different people." She explained, realizing that trying to make the entire world disappear wasn't happening. She opened her eyes.

"Give them a chance Ororo. Not all of humanity dislikes mutants." He told her softly, understanding just who she was referring to though she was rather vague. He knew of her anger. He stroked her skin, bringing her head closer and placing a kiss on her forehead. He rubbed the back of her head, ruffling her playful hair. She offered a smile.

And then suddenly there were shouts coming from one of the exhibits nearby. Storm looked towards where the distress was coming from, immediately rushing towards the place with Kurt hot on her heels. Many others were gathering around to watch, the both of them pushing through to the front. Storm could see Rogue and Kitty watching the odd display. A lone boy stood in front of two other boys, his fingers curling and moving in quick, fluid motions. The two teenagers appeared to be under some sort of control, punching each other and even hitting themselves. Storm realized then that the boy was a mutant. She was about to take action when suddenly a teenage girl shoved her way through the crowd.

"Jack!" She cried, bounding into the room. Without another word she raised her hands, also moving her fingers as the boy had been doing. Almost instantly the two teens stopped beating each other, rubbing the places that were sore from the blows. Everyone stared, jaws dropped and eyes wide. Storm knew it was time to take action.

"Lei vuole prendere arrestato ancora?" (Do you want to get arrested again?) The girl suddenly asked as Storm approached the two. She was puzzled that they were speaking a different language and paused. She wondered if they would be able to understand her but as she heard people beginning to become hostile, she decided it didn't matter.

"Rilassare gennaio, quelle borse di doccia prendevano un poco troppo vicino a quelle ragazze. Hanno avuto bisogno dell'aiuto." (Relax January, those douche bags were getting a little too close to those girls. They needed help.) He answered, nodding towards Rogue and Kitty as they also approached. He smiled at them.

"Hey, thanks a lot for that. Those creeps were…well, creeps." Rogue laughed. Kitty elbowed her and she shot her a look. "What?"

"I don't think they understand English." She answered. But before Rogue could apologize or try to communicate, Jack suddenly held up a hand and shook his head.

"We understand English. The name is Jack." He stuck out the hand he had been holding out, eyes flickering towards the exhibit entrance where security guards were entering, mauled by people who claimed to be witnesses to the whole affair. That bought them some time. "But there'll be time for introductions later 'cause right now I think I'm wanted."

"We can talk later. Right now we need to get you two out of here." Storm said, coming to her senses. She turned to Kurt. "Get these two back to the school and I'll bring the rest of the students. Hurry."

Angel looked up from his desk, watching his students working ardently on their projects. Most of them were using easels, painting with bright colors what object they had picked to use on the table stretched out before them. Others were molding clay, rubbing and rolling until it was to the texture that satisfied them. And still others were taking photographs from different angles and using different lighting to capture the emotions that they wished to. That was why Angel loved art – anything was possible and it was absolutely acceptable to be different from everyone else. Just like he was.

He himself was feeling rather frustrated however, staring blankly at the sketchpad in front of him. He had just bought himself a brand new one and couldn't seem to find the right model for this one. He had used many different objects for his other pads: an apple, the mansion itself, the willow tree, a canary he had made friends with, and many others. But this time he was stuck. He needed to sketch something different for a change. Or perhaps…someone.

He had never in his life drawn people, well, without them knowing. He had used to take his papers and utensils to parks and on buses to use people without their knowledge. He would draw pictures of old ladies using walkers, middle aged men carrying brief cases, mothers carrying groceries, and little kids playing with their toys. But never had he used a model, the same model, over and over again. Never had he actually been emotionally attached to them in any way. They were simply people.

Ever since he had refused the cure his father had invented, he had stayed at the school to be a teacher. He had felt safe and welcome there, unlike when he was out in the real world with the human people. There he had to keep his mutation a secret, hiding his wings inside of his trench coat. There it was hard to shed feathers without being noticed or stared at. But at the school he was allowed to be himself.

He looked out the window as if looking for some sort of inspiration, when all of a sudden the door to the art room opened. Actually it wasn't an 'art room' per say. It was actually the greenhouse located in the garden at the back of the school. But it was a perfect place to work except for the fact that it got very hot there.

"Warren, I could use your help." Kurt said from the door. Most of the students greeted him and he smiled, waving. "Hello students."

"Class dismissed for today. Tomorrow I want you to continue working with your object, tonight refresh yourselves." Angel stood up and watched as the students filed out of the room, leaving their unfinished work for him to look after. He would usually stay and study each piece of work, admiring each one and the students' talent. They all seemed to like his class a lot.

Kurt then ushered in two others once the greenhouse was empty. They both looked so much alike that Angel concurred quite quickly that they were related in some form or fashion, possibly even twins. They both shared the same sun kissed skin and dark, chocolate colored eyes.

The male was tall, at least six foot three, a wide grin spread across his face. His hair was colored a dark shade of brown, nearly black, and was formed into natural spikes all over his head. He wore nothing out of the ordinary; a simple pair of denim jeans and a slightly oversized baseball shirt.

But the female was very much unique. She was much shorter than the male and Kurt, and Angel knew that she would be shorter than him as well. Her hair fell an inch or two above her chest and was colored a reddish brown, the red standing out in the beams of sunlight peeking through the slanted roof. She either wished to stand out or simply liked to dress oddly for she wore a knee length dress with spaghetti straps and combat boots on her feet. The pattern of her dress reminded Angel of an antique Persian rug.

"This is the greenhouse, and this is Warren Worthington." Kurt nodded towards Angel as he stepped forward, and he cringed inwardly at the name. He still had not made peace with his father, even after saving his life, and did not usually go by his name. But Kurt had a thing for using the mutants 'God given' names.

"Worthington eh? Wouldn't happen to be related to Warren Worthington ll?" The male wasted no time, but his tone was nothing but friendly as he stuck his hand out towards Angel. He accepted it, giving him a firm shake.

"Unfortunately. But you can call me Angel." He answered, smiling.

"The name is Jack. Jack Frost actually. Yeah I know, everyone just has to make a joke but I don't mind. I've heard almost every one. But uh," Jack suddenly moved his fingers and the female beside him jerked her hand out towards Angel, "you can call me Geppetto. At least, that's what others have called me."

The female immediately seemed to retaliate, her hand jerking backwards. She shot Jack a vicious glare, narrowing her eyes and setting her jaw. Angel and Kurt would have been confused had they not been mutants themselves. They realized right away that clearly, Jack's power had something to do with manipulating the bodies and actions of others. As if he were a puppeteer.

Angel turned his attention towards the female. She had not extended her hand to him on her own and he wondered if she were the shy, silent type as he was. He himself had always been mellow and often kept to himself. He was perfectly content sketching in his pad alone then joining the other for a night out, though he occasionally went with them. But even then he would have rather been somewhere much quieter and not as wild.

He offered his hand, still smiling. He noticed that she seemed reluctant to extend her own. He was not offended in the least, instead he wondered as to why this was. He immediately assumed that she was not fond of others, perhaps because of her mutation. Perhaps she shied away from others because of it.

"Non essere timido." (Don't be shy.) Angel noticed Jack nudge her. He also noticed that he had an accent which was even more prominent when he spoke the language. He spoke it so quickly that he wondered if even an Italian would have been able to decipher what he had said.

She cautiously moved her hand forward, fingers slipping slowly into his. His eyes followed them until her hand was in his though he could barely feel it there. As he gripped it gently, shaking it with great care, he dared to look up into her eyes. They seemed to block out everyone and everything, not wanting to let anything in, not wanting to let anyone see inside of her. Secrets were buried there.

"January." Her voice was soft and she too spoke with an accent intertwining with her words. It was almost lulling.

Angel opened his mouth to speak but she took her hand back before he could. She averted her eyes and focused instead on the floor in front of her. It seemed to do a very good job of capturing her interest. He decided to leave her be for the time being, and turned his attention towards Kurt and Jack.

"So what did you need my help with?" He asked, remembering Kurt's words as he had entered earlier. He suddenly remembered that he had been out with Storm on the field trip to the museum.

"There was a problem at the museum-"

"These two jerks were getting a little too friendly with two girls, so I…persuaded them to back off. I assume they go here, those girls, and I sincerely hope so. I have my sights set on the very, very pretty one with the white streaks." Jack interrupted Kurt to tell his own tale before a different one could be.

Rogue. Angel thought, shaking his head with a chuckle. If ever there were any of the female students to have been hit on or admired most it was her. Now that she and Bobby had broken up, most of the male students at the school were pining for her. Though some were turned off since her mutation had returned…

"Ororo is bringing the students and she might need help. I was wondering if you could show Jack and January around while I go back."

"Sure." Angel thought about poor Storm surrounded by all of those teenagers all by herself. But he knew she was perfectly capable of taking care of things by herself, after all, she had taken over the school after Xavier's passing.

"Thank you Warren." He turned towards Jack and January with a blindingly white smile. "I will see the both of you later."

And with that he was suddenly gone with a flash of light as though lightning had struck the very spot where he stood, and bluish-gray smoke hovered in his place. Jack pointed towards it, mouth agape though January seemed oblivious to it.

"That was sweet." He then looked to Angel as though he were supposed to do something absolutely amazing. "What about you? What's your power?"

"Come on, I should show you the rest of the place." Angel walked past the two, opening the door leading out of the greenhouse and into the garden slash courtyard. Now that he was out of the contained confinement that was the art room, he was able to shed his overcoat. He slipped out of the ball and chain, if you will, and allowed the garment to fall to the ground behind him. His wings immediately spread and it felt as though he were stretching out his arms after a long while of being unable to.

Everyone had their own opinions about Angel's wings. Most of the mutant females who saw them swooned over him, beginning to touch his white feathers and asking him to take them for a ride sometime. The humans were revolted and disgusted, especially when feathers shed and fell to the ground as though he were an agitated pigeon. Angel himself was unsure of what to think about them, he simply though them as a part of him. And he refused to ever give them up.

"Whoa." Angel turned his head to see Jack's fingers carefully grabbing a hold of his feathers. His eyes were wide and ran over the two wings spanning out a fair distance. He was amazed but he also wondered how he was wearing a shirt. He then spied the two holes cut out of his wife beater and let go of the feathers. "Those are awesome."

"Think so?"

"Jan, so che lei riguarda pronto a te stesso lanciare a questo fusto di un eh di uomo?" (Jan, I know you're about ready to throw yourself at this hunk of a man eh?) Jack elbowed her playfully but the look she gave him was exasperated and annoyed.

Angel sensed that whatever had been said was meant to be a joke but apparently, January didn't think it was very funny. He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, shyly looking away from the two while she continued to look at Jack as though he were an irritating itch.

"Well, why don't I show you the mansion."

The three of them went into the mansion, Angel leading the tour though Jack walked beside him. He seemed eager to see whatever he was going to be shown.

"Are you and January brother and sister?" Angel asked. He figured that the two would probably become new tenants at the school and decided now was a good time to get to know each other. Soon, all of the teachers and students would be wanting to meet them.

"We aren't twins, if that's what you mean, but yeah. Everyone always thinks we're twins, don't know why. I'm clearly more good looking than her." Jack grinned, pointing his thumb in the direction of his sister. But then he suddenly formed a fist with the same hand, hitting himself upside the head. Angel was confused, until he turned his head and saw the smirk on January's face.

"You have the same power as your brother?" Angel asked, watching out of the corner of his eye as Jack frowned, rubbing the spot he had hit himself at. She simply shook her head to answer the question, the smirk disappearing and instead the stoic expression resuming.

"She can control the mutations of others, but only for a certain amount of time." His fist nearly connected with the same place it had before, but he had been expecting it, and moved his fingers to instead take control of his sister. He had her march up ahead of him and Angel before he released her – only to have his fist collide with his head again. He sighed, giving up.

Angel was amused by the brother and sister. He himself had been an only child though he had always though having a sibling around would be fun. He could see now that he had missed out on a lot of fun that could have been had.

He led the two down the halls and to the foyer. Some of the students were sitting on the stairs leading up to the other levels of the mansion while some were simply passing through. The girls seemed to be rather smitten with Jack, smiling as they passed or pausing to introduce themselves. And Jack didn't discourage them.

"Hi, I'm Rory." One of the girls offered her hand, and was pleasantly surprised when Jack raised it to his face and kissed her knuckles as though he were a prince greeting a princess. She giggled in delight and the other girls surrounding her all tried to offer their hands at the same time.

"Che il bel nome per una bella ragazza. My name is Jack." (What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.)

"Ooh, an accent!"

While the girls all drooled over the Italian, January took a seat on the stairs. She rested her chin on her fists, elbows perched upon her knees. She was getting a few looks from some of the boys but none of them approached and for that she was glad. Well, only one did.

Angel sat on the stair above January so that his wings wouldn't invade her personal space. He wasn't sure but from the way she acted, he guessed that she appreciated her own space. He wondered if he were violating it at the moment but since she didn't move he stayed where he was.

"Your brother looks like he's living it up with all of that attention." He nodded towards Jack when January turned her head slightly to look at him. She nodded in agreement, a faint smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"He thinks he's an Italian stallion." She said in the same soft, soothing voice. Angel laughed and he could hear her laughing a bit as well, though it sounded tired and dry. As though she didn't laugh very often or she simply didn't know how to. He was about to say something when suddenly the cell phone in his jeans pocket vibrated. She heard it and turned to look at him once more as he stood, fishing for the annoying little box.

"Sorry, not my idea." He dug the phone out and saw Storm's number displayed across the screen. He opened it up. "Hey Storm."

"Hey Angel. We're on our way back to the mansion, I just wanted to check in and make sure that everything is alright." He could barely hear her over the sounds of teenagers talking and laughing in the background.

"Everything is fine, I was just showing Jack and January around."

"I think it would be best if they stayed with us at the mansion. Kurt told me that when he talked to Jack, he said that he and his sister had nowhere to go. Could you take them to their rooms? I know that both eight and nine are open, nine is beside yours."

"Sure, no problem."

"Thanks Angel. We should be there soon." Angel snapped the phone shut and returned it to the dark hole in his pocket. The girls were dispersing and Jack had finally made his way to the stairs with a wide grin.

"I think I'm gonna like it here."