A/N: - First off, hi. Secondly, a HUGE thank you to Stars and Garters (who is an all time genius, really!) for helping me out so hugely with this (go read her stuff btw it's AWESOME) and lastly, updates on this are probably gonna be slow :s back at college so.

Chapter One

Bobby Drake couldn't help grinning as he looked around the little group that had gathered around the Christmas tree late in the evening.

It was your typical X-Man-style Christmas.

Logan was dozing in the chair closest to the fire, eyes half shut and the beer can in his hands tilting at a dangerous angle ... well, after fifteen beers, five brandies and a shot of tequila it was no surprise really. Hank, Ororo and Kurt were lazing over each other on the sofa. Ro's head rested on Kurt's lap as they murmured a conversation; her long legs were draped over Hank McCoy's lap and the Doctor was using her shins as a makeshift table as he scribbled in his brand new journal.

The Iceman sighed and turned away, perched on the edge of the windowsill he watched the storm rage outside and basked in the warm, fuzzy feeling he got whenever he thought about not being out there in the cold.

"Gonna do something about that storm, Ro?" Logan slurred, blinking lazily. The weather witch raised her head with a happy grin,

"No ... however, I am gonna steal McCoy's book - yoink!" She yelled as she snatched the little journal from the doctor's furry grip,

"Errr-- We might have a problem here guys," Bobby said still looking out the window.

"Quite, give that back, Ro," Hank said with a playful growl, claw tips tickling the weather witch's side oh so carefully.

Ororo giggled and curled up around the journal, its dark leather now dented with five small claw-tip marks where Hank had gripped it.

"Why? I wanna read about whoever you're crushing on now" She said, flipping through the pages without even looking and gave a quick squeal as Hank renewed his assult, tickling her without mercy to get the book back. Laughing, Kurt attempted to untangle himself from the scuffle, whilst still trying to support Ororo's head. It did nothing but add to her laughter.

"Um, no guys, I'm serious," The Iceman reiterated over his shoulder.

Logan frowned and pushed himself out of his chair to join him.

"The Frozen Daiquiri? Serious? My God, it's a Christmas Miracle!" He smirked before following Bobby's gaze, his expression turned quickly to a scowl, "Jesus" He breathed.

"What's wrong?" Ororo asked. As she paused to wipe a tear of laughter from her eye, Hank snatched back his journal with a gruff snort.

Logan turned to walk through teh hallways, opening the front door and stepping out into the howling wind and punishing rain as he unsheathed his claws. Whoever the hell this is they'd better not be causin' trouble.

Against the howling wind and punishing rain, a broad wedge of yellow light spilled into the storm as Logan wrenched open the front door. He drew a deep breath, smelled nothing and stepped into the rain. He flung the beercan into the dark, fists clenched as he unsheathed his claws. The warm light from the hallway glittered on the adamantium. Logan crouched, a dark spectre in the dismal Christmas night.

The approaching figure was little more than a dark shape clothed in a floor length cloak, a gloved hand visible was holding the hood of the cloak shut as it staggered against the force of the wind. Logan turned his head slightly, aware of the others moving out to join him, "Ro, think you could-"

"Working on it," Ororo was already looking skyward, bending the rain to her will and forcing it to become lighter, the howling wind to die down to a breeze. The figure on the path nearly fell over as the wind suddenly ceased. "Sorry," Storm murmured under her breath.

"Anyone know who it is?" Bobby asked, squinting to try and catch a glimpse of the figure beneath the cloak.

"Can't catch a scent," Logan and Hank chorused softly.

"Perhaps it vould be prudent to ask?" Kurt suggested with a smile as the figure reached the bottom of the steps, stopping with the cloak - heavy with rain water - pooling around its feet,

"You are the X-men?" She - it was definitely a woman's voice, rich and slightly husky - asked, still clutching the hood tight around her head and not looking up.

"Could be" Logan answered, drawing a cigar from his shit pocket. He paused as he bit the end and spat teh tip into a nearby box hedge. "My turn now ... two questions, sweetheart. Who are ya' an' what do ya' want? Ya sure don't look like ya came to sing us and Christmas carols."

"Who I am is of no concern to you and I am here to beg for sanctuary, not for me" She reached back into the folds of her volumionous cloak and pushed forward a small figure who had been hiding there, sheltered against the howling winds and pouring rain that had been battering the both of them, "but I will fight for the childs saftey," she said solemly. "Asha, say hello to the nice lady and gentlemen."

The little girl reached up to the hood of her own cloak, pushing it back and looking up with nervously wide, pupil-less amber eyes, pushing strands of curly blonde hair back behind her pointed ear.

"Hello," She said in a trembling tone.