Disclaimer: It should be pretty darn obvious that I do not own any of this. Well, except for the babies! And Kris and… well, it'll be obvious who the OC's are.

This is a continuation of/sequel to my fic Act Like A Boy, so go read that one first!

Ok, here's the timeline I've come up with, just avoid any possible confusion:

It's been about a year since the end of Act Like A Boy.

Kris – 18 years old, been living with her mother and Victor for over a year.

Abigail and James – are only about a year old, obviously.

Kris's mother, Carolyn (Rosie) – She met Victor at nineteen and had Kris at about 21, so I've got her at only about 39 years old.

Marie – is almost thirty.

Side note: I have not had a chance to read any of the X-Men comics or anything like that (though I wish), so all I know of any of this universe is really from what's in the movies. That being said, any background stuff will definitely be straight from my own imagination. Just letting people know. :)

Read on and enjoy!

Screams. She could hear them ringing out from all the way on the other side of the enormous compound. They told her those were the dangerous ones – crazy ones. That's why they were locked up like they were.

She believed that at first. The more she thought about it, though…

Hurrying across the yard, her spiky heals digging into the dirt a bit, manila folders tucked beneath her arm, she resolved not to think about it. Not to wonder what was really going on. Not to wonder why she could sometimes smell something when she came here – something that reminded her of the morgue back at the hospital, minus the smell of disinfectants. Not to ask questions, because that wasn't what she was paid to do.

Ha, a part of her scoffed nastily, damned if they don't pay you enough for this job, anyways.

She hurried into the same building she had the past three times, click clacked her way through the winding halls, finally darted down that one isolated hallway, with just the one door at the end of it.

She opened the door hesitantly, knocking softly. A deep baritone called out to her to come in, and she did, crossing the room quickly to lay the folders on the man's desk.

"This is it?" The man asked with just a hint of a southern drawl.

"Yes." She replied. "I-I did the tests myself, w-with the new equipment you gave me, it's incredible stuff."

He opened the folder on top, the one with the picture of the woman and her oddly dyed hair, and began to skim through it.

"Incredible indeed." He said. "Do you know if she has any idea?"

"Th-that she's a four? No sir, I don't think she does."

He snapped the folder shut and flashed her a warm grin.

"Thank you very much, Doctor. These will be very, very helpful I imagine. I'll let you know when next I'll need your services."

The Doctor nodded before turning to slip back out of the room.

"Oh, and Doctor."

The woman paused to look back at the man behind the desk.

"Do be careful out there. We wouldn't want her finding out what you've been doing. She and her husband are quite dangerous, you know."

Worried that the man would be able to hear her heart for all that it began to pound so hard in her chest, she hurried out of the room and shut the door behind her.

Marie's eyes flew open at the very first, tiny sound of a fussing baby. A soft, annoyed growl escaped unbidden from her lips as she buried her head in the pillow.

She thought about waking Logan, telling him it was his turn. Whoever it was doing the fussing probably wanted to be fed, though, so they wouldn't settle for Logan. That's usually how it went, anyways. Sighing, she crawled out from under the warm blankets she was wrapped in. Headed out of the room and down the hall, her bare feet scarcely making a sound on the wooden floors.

"Ok, ok baby girl, Mama's here." She whispered to Abigail, picking the baby up just as she began to really cry out and hurrying her out of the room so as not to wake James too.

She took the baby out into the living room and began the process of trying to figure out how to silence the fussy little pup in her arms.

Pup.

She blinked at herself. That's what Logan called them, and she'd thought it sounded strange at first, but now it seemed he was rubbing off on her.

A bottle seemed to make Abigail at least a little happier – for about half a minute. Then she was back to fussing, for no apparent reason.

Well, Marie had discovered a trick for that. A strange trick that was weirdly animal and not at all human, but she found it was ridiculous easy to give in to those instincts Logan had gifted her with when it was just her and him around to know about it.

Plus, it worked. Usually.

She held her daughter close so the baby's head was pressed to her chest as a deep purr vibrated from somewhere within it. The baby began to relax, slowly but surely. Marie sat down in the old rocking chair she'd bought months ago and began rocking slowly back and forth, and sure enough, the baby quieted completely. Wanting to make sure she wasn't going to wake again, Marie got up slowly and kept purring as she brought Abigail back to the nursery. She laid the baby down gently in her crib, breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't stir, padded back across the room.

Froze as the wooden floor beneath her feet creaked, crazy loud. Well, to her ears anyways. Maybe the babies wouldn't…

She was never that lucky.

She was pretty sure that was James beginning to cry out now.

Spend half an hour gettin one of them back to sleep, rinse and repeat…

Good thing she didn't have to work early tomorrow.

She turned back around, shuffled back into the room, picked James up, and began the same process all over again…

Gun fire. Loud, unrelenting. Ducking down, in a trench of some kind. Have to get out of here, have to keep moving. Climb out, head towards the nearest building. Dive behind it, more gun fire. Shoot back. Keep moving. Meet up with some others, so young, really just kids, all so scared. Growl at them, tell them to get back. Not even breathing as the soldiers start combing the area, speaking German. The kids, so scared, so jumpy. One moves, brings up his gun… a soldier sees, spits out something in German, comes towards them, aims his own gun. Jump in front of the kids, quick…

Marie's eyes flew open with a start. She was gasping for breath, bringing her only free hand up to feel along her stomach for wounds that were never there. It took her a moment to realize she was in the rocking chair, in the den. With James, who was sound asleep.

That wasn't her. In the dream. This realization startled her even more than the strange dream itself. The voice she'd been talking with was Logan's.

She took James back into the nursery, laying him gently in his crib, before briskly making her way down the hall. She had a feeling…

Sure enough, she walked into the room to see Logan wide awake, sitting up beneath their now shredded bed sheets.

"Nightmare. Right?" She asked quietly.

He only nodded, still breathing a bit heavy.

She stood frozen in the doorway for a long moment, just staring at him. He took a moment to get his own bearings, then turned to her, brows furrowed.

"Marie?"

"Ah-Ah…" She tried to say something, but nothing came out.

He got out of the bed, crossing the room to her in just a few short strides.

"What's wrong? Did I scare you?"

"No." She said quickly. "No, never, nothin – nothin like that. It' s just… Ah saw… your dream… a war, right? Y-you were fightin, and there were guns, and big soldiers, speakin – speakin German…"

He just stared at her.

"Please tell me I was talking in my sleep this time."

"No, Ah was – Ah was rocking James earlier, fell asleep, and then Ah was watching all that through your eyes, and the next thing Ah know Ah almost jump right out of the chair ready to run from phantom bullets."

She stops, and then they stare at each other, not sure of what to do.

And then she throws her arms around him, murmuring into his ear.

"You took the bullets. For them."

He doesn't answer, just buries his face in her neck and tries not to let her know how shaken he is.

…

"That's the fourth time it's happened, Logan. Maybe we should call Hank or something." Marie suggested later that morning. They were in the kitchen, and she was cooking eggs in a skillet, James sitting contentedly on her hip. Abigail was playing with a little stuffed bear on the floor in front of Logan.

"What's Furball going to do from all the way down in Westchester?"

"Ah don't know. We could go down and see him. Or maybe he'd be willing to come up here, it wouldn't take long in the Bird."

"We haven't talked to anyone down there in over a year."

"Ah talk to Jubes every now and then. They'd still be willing to help."

"Maybe."

"Probably." Marie paused as she began dishing the eggs out and moved on to make some toast. "Maybe your right, Hank might not know how to help, but maybe he would know someone who could."

"We'd need a telepath or something, wouldn't we? I don't like the idea of anyone poking around in my head."

"Well, neither do Ah," Marie snapped, starting to get annoyed, "but when Ah start havin dreams about wars that happened long before Ah was even born, Ah think it's time to do something."

"We ain't calling Hank, Marie." Logan snapped back with finality, and Marie let out a sigh that was half way to a growl as she set his breakfast in front of him.

Maybe he wouldn't, but maybe she would. She had a bad feeling about all of this, and Logan was the one who always told her to follow her instincts.

The thing was, things had been perfect up until two weeks ago. Their life was as normal as normal got for them. She was still working at the diner, but didn't mind it at all. She was comfortable there. Logan was well known in town for how well he did fixing cars. If they wanted to get out for a while, the elderly woman who owned the diner Marie worked at gladly babysat; she thought the babies were just the cutest. If they needed any extra cash, Logan went out to find a cage, and that took care of that.

They'd been keeping things simple, because they both liked it that way.

And then she'd gotten his nightmare for the first time weeks before, and she'd been unable to shake the feeling of wrongness ever since. Not just when it came to the nightmares. She felt it everywhere now.

"Hey." Logan said quietly, shaking her out of her reverie. She grimaced, realizing that she'd just been staring down at her eggs, which were probably cold by now. Logan had long since gotten up, getting ready to leave for work. He placed a kiss on each of the babies heads before turning to her. "I'm sorry. If you want to call Hank, I guess it can't hurt." He kissed the top of her head. "We can talk more about it tonight."

"Alright. Love you, Logan."

"You too, Darlin."

Marie watched him leave, and raised an eyebrow when Fang – the wolf-dog they had semi-adopted after finding him wandering down the road – came slipping through the door just before it closed.

Semi adopted. He came and went as he pleased. It was funny how he always did come wandering back, though.

He pranced across the den and into the kitchen. Abigail, who was standing while holding onto Marie's leg for support, squealed with delight when he came up and licked her cheek.

Marie turned her eyes on James, who was sitting in her lap.

"Well, I guess Mama's got a phone call to make."

James looked at her with big eyes that had been slowly darkening to become brown, just like hers.

"Mama!" He exclaimed in response, his favorite of the three words he could say at that point, and Marie giggled.

"Come on, let's find you and your sister something to play with." She peered down at Abigail, who was staring up at her now with eyes that seemed to become more like her fathers every day. "I'll be right back for you, baby girl." She got up and began heading towards the nursery, giggling again when Abigail took to crawling after them.

There was country music playing softly in the background – she recognized the artist, couldn't remember his name – and the whole house smelled like cookies and citrus. And that's just what she could tell while paying less than half her attention to her surroundings.

It was still so weird sometimes, having senses so heightened.

She could also very distinctly smell her boyfriend's cologne – nothing too strong, but it smelled amazing – along with something else, something that was distinctly him. Right now, it was turning her on.

"Kr-Kris." He pulled away, breathing heavy, and she could smell how aroused he was.

"What is it, baby?" She asked between the kisses she began to trail down his neck, sliding her hands down to begin unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing.

"Y-You need… Maybe we should… I mean, I-I've never…"

She silenced him by devouring his lips again.

"Neither've Ah." She breathed, her emerald greens smiling mischievously. "Sounds like fun, though, don't it?"

He stared at her for a long moment, hands planted on her hips.

"Doesn't it."

"What?"

"You said 'don't it'."

"Ben. Why'd yah bring me here where we'd be alone if yah weren't even interested in me?" She asked, crossing her arms, her eyes narrowing.

"Because I thought – because you were – I mean, you looked so – damn. I don't know. I mean, I am interested in you, really, I am."

She let out a soft growl.

"Well, then, what's the problem?"

He opened his mouth again, but no sound came out. She rolled her eyes.

"Why don't," she drawled, gripping the collar of his button down and pulling at both sides, the buttons popping off, "you just," she moved her hands down and pulled again, and more buttons popped off, "relax." She slid her hands down one more time and tore the rest of the shirt open, then paused to admire his abs. Then she peered up at him, briefly catching her reflection in the mirror behind him. Her eyes were turning feral, golden yellow – with lust this time, not with anger. "Let me do all the work." She slid her hands over the rippling muscles on his stomach, then hugged his waist beneath his shirt.

He shuddered, and she could feel the goose bumps raising on his skin.

She could also feel another very definite sign of his arousal pressing against her – she gave him a smirk much like her fathers before coming down to kiss him.

"Y-you seem pretty – you sure you haven't –"

"Ah meant Ah was a virgin. Didn't say Ah had no experience." She grabbed his hand and guided it to begin sliding up her shirt, urging him on, and he seemed to be quickly losing the will to protest. A brief minute passed and her shirt was off. Another two, he was working on her bra. Another two and he was hesitating again, so she slid down and began undoing his jeans…

Her phone rang. She swore. He seemed both relieved and frustrated at once. She stood unabashed, not bothering to cover up her naked top half, and he was blushing.

She pulled her phone out and looked down at it. Froze, her eyes widening.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Victor." She muttered, smiling. "My Dad's home. Ah have to go."

"Wait, what? Now? B-but…"

She slid her tank top back on, not bothering with her bra, tossing it carelessly over her shoulder to land in his lap as she went.

"Keep that safe for me, will yah?" She drawled as she strolled out of the house, hips swaying. "Ah'll expect it back next time."

It didn't occur to her until she was half way across the compound they lived in, halfway back to the little house she lived in with her mother and Victor, that her mother would notice she wasn't wearing her bra.

Of course, Victor would also be able to sniff out Ben's scent on her. He'd know what they'd been doing immediately. His reaction, though – that was anyone's guess. Her mother had taken to complaining that she could almost never predict how the two would handle each other; it was driving her crazy.

"Short trip." Kris muttered at the thought. "Yah'll were crazy to begin with, old woman."

She wasn't sure what had come over her the past year. She used to be all shy around guys when it came to, well, what she had just been getting at with Ben. But something had been changing. Kris had been changing, everything about her.

It had gotten to the point where she was seriously thinking about not even going by Kris anymore. Somehow it just didn't seem to fit now. The name Kristine sounded so innocent to her somehow, and she didn't feel innocent in any way anymore. Not after the accident with her step-father. Not after mauling all those men to get to her mother. Not after all the fights she started getting in when she was at the mansion those few months.

Certainly not with the way she'd been acting around boys either. It was like someone had flipped a switch or something, and she'd gone from barely noticing guys like that, to almost not being able to not notice guys like that.

And it had gotten ten times worse in the past few weeks, as had just been proven by what she'd been so ready to give up to Ben moments earlier.

What was wrong with her, anyways?

"Hey Mama." Kris called out as she strolled into their house.

"Hello Kristine. Where've yah been all day? With that nice boy Ben?"

"Uh. Yeah. Yeah, Ah was with Ben. He took me out. To eat." It wasn't entirely a lie. He had taken her outside of the compound, to a cute little diner not far up the road.

"Victor should be home any minute, he'll be wanting to see you." Her mother peered down the hall way from the kitchen as Kris was about to head upstairs to change clothes.

"Uh, yeah, Ah'll be down in just a minute Mama."

"Alright."

She changed quickly and let her long brunette brown hair down; it had been in a braid, the way she'd always been keeping it lately, but was a mess by now. She thought about putting on some of that perfume her Mama had given her to try and mask anything Victor would smell on her.

But then, she was obviously not the type of girl to use perfume, so he'd know something was up anyways.

Why her Mama had even given her perfume, Kris really had no clue. Maybe because it was something she might've worn, before things changed. It seemed like her Mama didn't quite know what to do with her anymore.

Deciding she was as good as she was going to get, she bounced back down the stairs and headed for the kitchen.

Her Mama gave her a warm smile as she sat down at the table.

"By the way, that nice woman from the school, the one with the white hair –"

"Professor Munroe."

"Yes, she called today and said she wanted to see you."

"Oh. At the mansion? That's like a two hour drive."

"Well, Ah was thinkin you could drive yourself there, you got your license, no reason yah can't. You can use my car."

"Really?" Kris smiled. It was nice to know her Mama trusted her, at least. "Cool."

The front door opened and Kris's eyes lit up, as did her Mama's. Victor was back.

A year and six months they'd been together as a – well, family, though certainly not a normal one in any sense of the word. They had settled into a sort of routine, though.

The thing was, the place they were living… well, Kris knew little about it and who was behind it all, and her Mama knew even less. What they did know was that whoever was behind it was crazy powerful, and probably a mutant, considering the compound was really a small city made up of them.

Her father worked for whoever this person was. And got paid well for it. Though, he didn't seem so interested in money; Kris had begun to see the truth, which was that he enjoyed his job, although she was positive it was not a nice one.

Kris had only just begun to ask questions; his response was to make a bargain with her. He taught her how to fight, how to defend herself. And how to use her new senses to the fullest. The more she learned how to take care of herself, the more he explained to her. She'd been picking the fighting skills up fast. Faster than anyone he'd ever seen, he'd told her.

Her Mama, on the other hand, had said she didn't want to know why Victor was out at least two days ever week doing something. Kris had asked her if she was curious, just once, and her Mama had said that the less she knew, the better.

She had Victor back; she was happy with that.

"Victor!" Her mother jogged into his arms. Kris pretended to gag as she watched him give her Mama a fierce kiss, just like he always did.

"Hey, Dad." She said, walking up to them.

"Hey, half pint." He replied as she stepped into his arms for a hug. He kept her there for a minute, and she got a little nervous as he leaned down a bit to sniff at her hair.

A chuckled rumbled past his lips, and she looked up to see he looked thoroughly amused.

"Wonder if Rosie knows what you've been up to." He said, smirking.

"She's been with that nice boy Ben all day." Her Mama responded quite confidently, then frowned when she noticed the look on her lovers face. "What? Am Ah missin somethin?"

Victor turned his dark, amused eyes on her, not saying a word. She tried to keep from blushing.

"I-it's nothin Mama."

"Doesn't look like nothin." Her Mama put her hands on her hips as she studied her daughter. "Kristine Victoria –"

"Come on, kid, we're going for a walk. I got something to tell you, and you're overdue for fighting practice." Her father came to her rescue.

She let out a breath as he led her out of the house and away from her glaring mother.

…

"I know where Dillon is." He said, and her world slowed to a stop at the mention of her ex-step-father's name.

Victor gave her a brief moment to process that before going on.

"Not where exactly, but I know what he's been up to, where to start with tracking him down, and who took your mother. I know he was working with the bastards from the beginning. What gets done about it is up to you. Just thought you should know."

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out, she didn't know where to start. She let out a breath.

"D-did he know. About – Ah mean, did he marry Mama because – did he know Ah'd be a mutant?"

"Can't know that, kiddo. Sure looks like some kinda set up to me, though."

First she felt like crying. And she did. A few tears slipped unbidden down her cheeks at the thought that maybe it had all been an act. Maybe the man she'd called Daddy for sixteen of her eighteen years had never really loved her, had only ever seen her as the freak he'd claimed her to be the day she'd first shown signs of her mutation.

Victor was quiet. Patient. Waiting, probably for what he knew would come next.

And it did.

The rage.

She let out a low and entirely inhuman growl, her eyes turning that wolf like golden yellow as she turned and sent a fist slamming into the nearest hard object – which just happened to be a brick wall.

Then she stood and just stared at the wall a moment. She'd chipped a dent in it. A very, very small one, but it was brick. She was always forgetting her own strength lately, scaring herself with outbursts like that.

She waited long enough for the fingers she'd just broken to heal themselves.

"Ah wanna go after him." She said firmly.

"Why?" He asked her, and she spun back around to face him.

"What kinda question is that?"

"A damned good one. I can track him down for you, but I ain't gonna do that unless it's worth it. Why do you wanna go after him? What will you do when we find him?"

He wanted her to say she'd kill him.

She thought it over a minute, wondered if she really hated Dillon O'Connell that much.

Then she thought of her mother, beat up and tied to a chair. She thought of the nightmares her mother still had of all that, of how the older woman still woke up crying at night.

She thought of him yelling at her, telling her she was a freak, telling her she deserved to die, even though she'd done nothing wrong at that point.

She remembered coming so close to killing him just three days later – remembered lashing out with her strange nails that had become more claw like.

Remembered the men who shot her, tried to kill her, when all she'd been trying to do was get away. She hadn't fought back with them. And Dillon O'Connell had sent them.

"Ah'll kill him." She said finally, firmly, and Victor smirked.

"Had a feeling you'd say that. Come on, half pint, we got work to do." He said, leading her off for one of their usual training sessions.

Reviews, as you know by now, are super, super loved! Not so sure about this opening chap, so let me know. :)