Disclaimer: I do not own any of the X-Men. They belong to Marvel. Catarina and her family are the only characters that belong to me.

Author's Note: Changes made thanks to Rowena DeVandal's help. Thanks, luv. You're the best. (Couldn't get my program to make the stress marks again, though. Sigh.)


Men young and old sat around a camp fire puffing on cigarettes. Their caps were pulled low over their faces, and a few of the older men had begun to drift off to sleep, their full stomachs making them drowsy. To the right, the older women of the camp were busily clearing the remains of dinner from a large wooden table. The younger women squatted at large wooden tubs washing the dishes their mothers and aunts brought to them. As the pile of dishes began to diminish, one of the younger women started quietly whistling a folk song. A man rose from the fire and entered a tent, rustling the young woman's chocolate curls as he passed her. When he came back out of the tent he was carrying a violin.

"Catarina, finish those dishes, and then, we shall dance!" the man shouted heartily as he sat down and began tuning his violin. Hastily, the women finished the dishes, emptied the tubs of dirty water, and rushed to join the others by the fire. The man began playing a quick tempo chalga, and the young people began twisting and twirling about the fire. Laughter and singing perfumed the air. Young and old kept the beat by clapping and stomping their feet. This revelry went on long into the night.

When the dancing was finally over, the exhausted Gypsies said good-night and retreated to their respective tents. As Catarina headed to her family's section of the camp, a youthful man came up beside her and threw his muscular arm over her shoulders.

"Ternoo phen, you dance beautifully. Why do you not yet have a husband, hmm?" the man asked her teasingly. A slight blush tingled its way across Catarina's cheeks.

"Because, phral, men who pick their wives solely on dancing skills are not men of innocent intentions," Catarina playfully shot back. "Let me ask you a question. You are a hardworking young man of good strength and good health. Why is it that you have not yet found yourself a wife?" She laughed when her brother quirked an eyebrow in mild detest. After a few seconds' rumination, he looked her in the eyes and grinned.

"Well, Rina, there are just too few women in Italy willing to settle for a man who would chose his wife… solely on her dancing skills." Catarina threw her head back and laughed heartily.

"Phral, you are a dirty scoundrel!"

"Perhaps, my sweet Rina, perhaps. But, if I wasn't a scoundrel the world would be a very boring place." The two siblings found their father, the violinist, sitting outside his tent chuckling to himself.

"Radu, you are too harsh on your sister," their father said. "She is young and has plenty of time to find a suitable husband!"

"Nonsense," said their mother, who was coming around from behind the tent. "She is not a chay anymore, Petru. She is a lacsho roomi now, almost nineteen! At her age I was already married and pregnant with Radu." Their father rolled his eyes. Turning to Catarina, he clasped her hands between his and stared up into her deep brown eyes.

"My darling, you have all the time in the world! Take your time in deciding upon these heady matters. Find a man who will love you, not just provide for you." Catarina leaned over and kissed her father on the cheek.

"Nais tuke, dat." Catarina moved to her mother and hugged her tightly. Her mother irritably rolled her eyes, but returned her daughter's embrace. "Loki ti rat, day." Placing a final kiss on Radu's cheek, Catarina resigned to her small tent.


Author's note: Hope the Rom wasn't too much for you guys to handle. It was very fun to use. Thanks again to Rowena for helping me out. This is just the introduction, guys. Hang for some drama next chapter, and the entrance of the X-Men!

Rom Words:
Chalga - a Roma folk song
ternoo phen - little sister
phral - brother
chay - girl
lacsho roomi - pretty woman
nais tuke - thank you
dat - father
loki ti rat - goodnight
day - mother