Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men or any part of their universe. A/U to X-3 and First Class. Ilehana Xavier, where mentioned, belongs to Corrinth and Blaze is mine.
01
Like a friggin' boomerang, Logan thought to himself grumpily. I always seem to end up comin' back. There it was, just like always, the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. A massive red brick mansion covered in ivy, majestic in the evening sunlight. Birds sang in the mature trees that were scattered through the grounds, the manicured lawns were smooth as bowling greens, and to Wolverine's heightened sense of smell there was the tang of explosives in the air. Home sweet home, he groused, hitching the battered rucksack he carried higher over his shoulder and heading up the sweeping drive.
Years had gone by uncounted since Wolverine had first woken up in the infirmary, alone and confused. He'd left to find answers about his missing memories but he'd not been able to stay away. Losing Jean Grey at Alkali Lake had been terrible. He'd thought about leaving for good then but it never quite happened. The death of Charles Xavier, Logan's friend and mentor through good times and bad, had been devastating. But Logan had stuck around, tied to his colleagues who were grieving just as he was. A year later, Charles' daughter Ilehana had given up her life for the sake of the X-Men. Logan's heart had broken again, maybe worse than ever, and he'd needed both space and time. Yet here he was again, back in Westchester, just like a boomerang.
Not everything that happened around here was tinged with sadness and maybe that's why it was still home. He'd made some good friends, though he'd never admit it to any of them. Some had been here when he first arrived like Storm and Iceman. Several had joined the X-Men after Logan; Nightcrawler, Beast, Gambit and Blaze. Some had even left before finding like he had that this place was hard to stay away from. They included Shadowcat, Rogue and of course Jean.
She sat on the lawn with the sunlight making her sleek auburn hair luminous, her bare feet tucked up on the picnic blanket. As yet she hadn't noticed Logan, who had turned from the driveway to go towards her without thinking. It wasn't easy to sneak up on a telepath, but Jean's attention was so concentrated on the person she was with that Apocalypse himself could have dropped into the garden and she wouldn't have noticed. A little boy less than one-year-old was being held under each arm by Jean, who was letting him bounce at the knees as he practiced taking his weight on his feet. His eyes sparkled with the merriment he shared with his mother, joyous at this new game they had invented. Toys were scattered across the blanket and Logan had to step carefully so he didn't break anything as he joined them.
"Logan!" Jean squealed delightedly, tossing the child up in the air as she got to her feet. "Welcome home." She ceremoniously held out little Duncan Summers for Wolverine to take. Logan eyed the child distrustfully as two chubby hands reached with grasping fingers towards his sideburns.
"Jean, you really need to change his diaper."
"He smells?" Jean pulled the child back and swung him in her arms so she could take a good whiff of his posterior. "I don't smell anything?"
"Trust me," Wolverine said, raising an eyebrow. Scott Summers' wife made a self-conscious apology and headed indoors. Logan let her go. He had heard raised voices behind a wall in a private area of the grounds often used for training students, so that was where he headed. He turned a corner into the walled garden and had to duck as one of the students blatantly misfired with a ranged attack. The ice target that the boy had been trying to hit dripped slowly, melting in the warmth of the evening. Bobby Drake, aka Iceman, slapped his forehead in despair. "I have never seen such a sorry bunch of…"
"This is boring, Iceman," one of the five teens moaned. "When do we get to start training with moving targets?"
"How about when you can all hit the stationary ones?"
"Aww, Iceman, we thought training with you would be fun!"
"Don't blame me for this," Bobby replied. "Blame Cyclops. All the guy has to do to hit something is look at it and he still misses. Regularly. I won't have any mutant I trained so damn awful at ranged attacks, alright?" The kids looked chagrined, but Logan was chuckling silently. He'd never thought about Cyke's terrible aim like that before. Bobby saw Logan's smirk and went over to greet his colleague with a cool handshake.
"Let them try movin' targets," Logan advised gently, knowing Iceman was a much more experienced educator than Wolverine was or wanted to be. Bobby was unimpressed, "They'll miss."
"Sure," agreed Logan, "and they'll know you were right all along. But not until you let them fail." He could see Bobby was mulling the idea over, so Wolverine left it there. Instead he asked, "Where's everyone else?"
"Rogue is teaching in the Danger Room," Bobby replied. "Ororo was lecturing in the orangery earlier, I haven't seen her since. Everyone else is round back I think. Hank was threatening a barbeque."
"He'll singe his fur."
Bobby laughed, agreeing, "Again! I'll see you there when I'm done with training?" Wolverine made a noise that might have been agreement, making Bobby smile. "Welcome home Logan."
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Around the back of the mansion on a patio overlooking the basketball court, several of the X-Men were relaxing after the day's classes. Kitty Pryde was lying back on a sun lounger, rereading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. She was trying very hard to block out the sounds made by her colleagues, but it wasn't easy.
"Quidditch!"
Kitty shook her head, not quite believing her ears. She refocused on the page in front of her and carried on reading.
...said Charlie shortly, "I wish England had gotten through, though. That was embarrassing, that was." "What happened?" said Harry eagerly, regretting more than ever his isolation from the wizarding world when he was stuck at Privet Drive. Harry was…
"Quidditch!"
…passionate about Quidditch. He had played as Seeker on the Gryffindor House Quidditch team ever since his first year at Hogwarts and owned a firebolt, one of the best racing brooms in the world. "Went down to Transylvania, three hundred and ninety to ten," said Charlie gloomily…
"Quidditch!"
Enough was enough. Kitty dropped her book and looked up. Jubilation Lee, Jubilee, was perched on the stone balustrade that was the patio's perimeter. She was trying to paint her toenails bright yellow. Nightcrawler was likewise perched on the wall, playing a game on a tablet. He was so into the game that his tail was flicking backwards and forwards like a cat's when stalking a mouse. Said tail kept nudging Jubilee as she concentrated. She cried out again, "Quit it! Seriously Kurt, will you put that darn thing away?"
"Ahh," said Kitty, things making a lot more sense now. A new arrival got a lazy wave from her before she disappeared back to Hogwarts. "Hey Logan, good to see you!"
"Do you mean his tail or the tablet, Jubes?" Logan asked with a smirk. Jubilee just stuck her tongue out at him and went back to her toenails. Wolverine guessed he deserved it. He went away and came back so often, no one was surprised by it anymore. Maybe he should stick around for a while, that'd really worry them.
"Look who the cat dragged in," drawled a heavily accented voice. Remy le Beau, aka Gambit, walked onto the patio carrying two tall glasses of ice tea. He wore a pair of faded ripped jeans and not a lot else, comfortable in his own skin even if it was mottled black and blue with bruises. "You turn up like a bad penny, non?"
"Seems I missed you getting a good beatin' Gumbo, who do I thank this time?" Logan glanced round to see if there were any takers. A petite curly-haired woman sat at small bistro table met Wolverine's eyes with her liquid brown ones. She gave a small shake of her head, saying in an English accent, "It wasn't me." Gambit went over to her and put the drinks on the table, making the redhead smile, "You read my mind Rem."
"What's wrong with you anyway," Wolverine persisted, trying to get a rise outta the Cajun. "Too broke to afford a shirt? It's not even that hot."
"It is where Gambit sittin'," the Cajun smiled. He plopped gracefully down into a seat next to the redhead, Blaze, and placed a hand on the woman's back. Logan realised that amongst the bruises on Gambit's skin were more than a couple o' burns and blisters. Huh, so that particular on-off thing was more on than off at the moment. He'd give it 'til Friday. It was already Wednesday evening, but that was still generous given the history between the two thieves.
"Blaze, would you mind awfully putting your good friends out of their misery and lighting this barbeque?" Hank McCoy said from by the grill. He had an apron on over his massive blue frame that said 'Kiss the Cook'. As predicted, the fur on his fingers was already scorched from trying to light the coals.
"What, and ruin the blossoming bro-mance?" Blaze teased, smiling at Beast and Cyclops who was supposed to be helping. She resisted Hank's pleading gaze for all of thirty seconds before giving in and waving her hand. The previously unresponsive coals caught fire and Hank grinned from ear to ear. "Just to warn you," Blaze cautioned, "I take no responsibility for anyone going down with food poisoning."
"Can I interest you in some barbequed meat Logan?" Cyclops offered by way of a greeting and also a challenge.
"What burnt on the outside, raw on the inside?" Scott gave a small smile, nodding to Logan's description. "Just how I like it," Wolverine growled, "just how I like it…"