"Thanks a lot, sugar

Roaddog 4:69

Ok, y'all. This is my first fic so please be gentle. First off, no one sue me. As wonderful as this fic is (yeah, right) I am not making any money off of it, so even if you do sue me, unless you're in it for pocket lint, then you ain't gonna get much out of it. Anyway, I didn't create Wolverine, Scott, Jean, the Professor…you know what? If you recognize the character then I didn't create them. Araña however is my character. And concerning the characters that aren't mine, if I have not written them to character I apologize upfront. My comic book reading friend tells me that some of this is not true to the comics, but I wrote to the movie, and tried to keep it as true as I could given such little background in the movie. Anyway, now that all of that is out of the way…on with the story.

"Thanks a lot, sugar. I appreciate it," Araña Castilla said as she stepped down out of the cab of the eighteen-wheeler. She had hitched a ride with this trucker a ways back; thankfully, men on the road usually don't ask many questions. Most of the time, they're just happy for the company and small talk.

"Take care, 'raña, hope everything works out for you," Dwayne, the trucker called to her as she hit the ground. She turned and smiled sweetly before she closed the door behind her as Dwayne revved the engine and continued down the road. She waved one last time at the side-view, before she picked up her knapsack. She hoisted it over her shoulder and walked to the sidewalk. Damn, I'm hungry, she thought to herself. Standing on the corner, looking left and right, she spotted a corner store. Her stomach rumbling, she knelt down to get her money.

Reaching into her shoe, she found the last of her money. Pulling it out, she unfolded the small wad of bills counting it. Suddenly she heard a motorcycle coming from her left. She looked up; it was hugging the curb. Close. Real close. She didn't realize exactly how close until the rider was right on top of her, nearly taking her head with him as he passed. She threw herself back just in time, knocking her sunglasses off in the process. She picked them up quickly and replaced them on her face before anyone could see her elliptical pupils. She sat there recovering, as he parked his bike at the corner store.

A Jeep drove by then. The driver, obviously as unhappy with the biker's driving as she was, honked and yelled out the window at the asshole as he drove by. The biker responded by shooting the bird at the driver of the jeep. The jeep continued down the road at a slower than normal pace as the biker dismounted.

"Asshole," Araña whispered, watching as the biker walked inside. She stood and dusted herself off.

Counting out her few dollars she found that she had a grand total of two dollars and seventeen cents to her name. Hoisting her sack onto her shoulder, she adjusted her sunglasses and trotted across the street.

Upon entering she noticed that the store resembled one back home. If the people were at all the same as back home, then she had better keep her right hand in her pocket and her glasses on. With that thought she put her hand in her pocket and held her money with it. She smiled pleasantly at the old man behind the counter. 

He nodded back absently; he seemed to be concentrating on the store's only other occupant. The asshole on the motorcycle. Araña rolled her eyes. Typically scruffy, lots of hair, and boots. He looked up and regarded her quickly with a sneer. She rolled her eyes again and turned to the back of the store and started to walk toward the cooler.

"Young lady," the old man spoke up. "You'll need to leave that bag here if you're going to the back of the store."

Araña took offense but she didn't need trouble. She walked back to the counter and plunked her knapsack onto the counter. Turning back to the cooler again she caught the look on the face of the scruffy guy. He was looking a hole through the old man.

Ignoring them both, she made her way to the cooler and grabbed a Coke. She lifted her ponytail and held the cold drink against the back of her neck. A slight shiver went down her spine and goosebumps broke out on her arm. A row of jerky on the right caught her eye. She was in for quite a bit more walking and she would need the energy. She grabbed a package and walked toward the counter. The scruffy looking asshole was walking up at the same time. Araña quickened her step to get to the counter first, but he arrived there a split second before her. However, she got her jerky and Coke on the counter before he lifted his hand.

"Back off, kid," he growled. "I was here first."

"Your stuff wasn't on the counter, that's not 'here' in my book."

The old man added up her purchases, hoping he could get them both out of here before this guy made a scene again, which he was prone to do. "Two-oh-four," the old man announced, producing her knapsack from behind the counter.

"Who gives a damn about 'your' book?" the scruff persisted, "Didn't anyone ever teach you to have respect for your elders?"

"Hey asshole," Araña responded, producing her money from the pocket of her jeans. She slammed it down on the counter, and turned before she continued her reply, "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to take out pedestrians while driving?"

"What is that?" the old man said from behind the counter.

"What do you mean by that exactly, girl?"

"I said what is this?" the old man said a little louder this time, but still not loud enough to get Araña's attention.

"I mean, you passed me on that corner back there and I'm lucky that you didn't take my head in your spokes."

"I said, 'what is this?'" the old man was yelling by now, and he grabbed Araña by the right hand. She turned to him, and exhaled deeply realizing that in her haste to argue with this other asshole she had forgotten to keep her right hand in her pocket.  Now revealed to this man was one of her 'specialties' as she so lovingly referred to them…others usually just called them mutations. A large black marking resembling a spider web covered her hand from knuckle to wrist, in the center of the web was a small red hourglass raised about a half an inch from the rest of her skin. It pulsed as her blood rushed through it.

She pulled her hand free of the old man's grip and put it back in her pocket. "Just give me my change," she managed to stammer. He reached up and grabbed her sunglasses off of her face, revealing her eyes, glowing red with tiny webs for pupils.

"I want you out of my store, Freak, now!" the old man replied, throwing her glasses down on the counter, and stuffing her Coke and jerky into her knapsack.

"Just give me my change and I'm gone," Araña replied, trying to control her anger.

The old man set one hand down on the counter and swept with it, sending her change flying through the air and it went clattering down on the floor at the feet of and behind the scruffy guy. Not about to sacrifice the last of her self-esteem in order to pick up thirteen cents, Araña grabbed her knapsack off of the counter and ran out the door.

As she neared the street, she saw a cop car driving slowly by. She shoved her hand further down into her pocket and dropped her eyes. Behind her the old man flew out of the store's door, screaming, "Shoplifter! Shoplifter!" She turned to see whom he was talking about, fearing that she already knew. Sure enough, the old man was pointing at her.

"I paid you," she screamed back as he came running toward her and the police car pulled in.

"What seems to be the problem, Floyd?" asked the pot-bellied officer that stepped out of the car.

"This Freak here stole a drink and a package of beef jerky from my store. Look in her bag, Jim. You'll find them."

"I paid him, sir. Honestly, I did."

"May I have your bag, miss?" Jim asked.

She unshouldered her knapsack, as she spoke, "You are going to find a twenty ounce bottle of Coke and a package of beef jerky in there, sir. I'm not denying that, but I paid this son of a bitch for them."

"I don't need that kind of language."

"What the hell are you the etiquette police?" Araña asked starting get scared as well as mad.

"Would you please remove your eyewear?" he asked in a commanding voice.

"I'd rather not, sir, if it's all the same to you."

"If it was all the same to me I wouldn't have asked," he continued. "Remove the glasses, now." Araña complied; looking up at him she saw pity, disgust, then anger cross his features. "Do you have a receipt for these items?" Jim asked, glaring at her through his mirrored sunglasses.

"No," Araña replied, sullenly dropping her head.

"Well why don't you just pay this man for his merchandise and we can all go on with our lives."

"Don't you think I would if I could? But the fact is that I just spent my last two dollars on this and I don't have any more goddamned money."

"Then I guess you're just going to have to come with me," Jim replied, roughly grabbing her arm. She was calculating the distance to the closest area of cover and if she could make it there after using one of her less pleasant powers on both of these men, when the scruffy looking guy roared up on his bike.

He reached into his breast pocket and produced two dollars, and tossed them to the old man, then turned to the cop, "Now let her go," he said in a voice that even scared Araña.

"I have a hard enough time handling crime in this city. You freaks and all of your kind keep out of town," the cop replied, loosening his grip. Araña pulled herself loose, replaced her sunglasses, and started to walk away.

"It was two-oh-four," the old man called after Araña.

She turned around to reply just in time to see the scruffy looking guy lift the old man off the ground by his shirt collar, "You can take it out of the two-oh-four that she already paid you." With that he set him down and Araña kept walking toward the street.

She was on her way east out of town, when the scruffy looking guy passed her. Asshole, she thought to herself. That little scene could have been completely avoided if he hadn't distracted her.  Her mind was beginning to concentrate on her walking again when a jeep pulled up next to her.

She glanced through the corner of her eye. It was the same Jeep that had followed that asshole into town. A young guy with dark hair and sunglasses was looking through the window at her. She continued walking trying to avoid eye contact, hoping he would go away. He didn't, however.

Finally Araña stopped and the jeep stopped beside her. "Look," she said facing him full for the first time; she realized that he wasn't that bad looking. "I have no money and a can a Mace in my duffel-bag…not to mention a real bad case of crabs. If any of that is still a turn on to you then let's get this over with, but if I have dissuaded you in any way then get out of here because I have a lot of walking to do."

He covered his mouth with his hand to conceal his smile, "Actually I was just going to offer you a ride."

"Why?"

"Because you look like you could use some help."

"I'm on my way to somewhere they can help, so thanks but no thanks."

"Really? Where you headed?"

"To the Xavier School for Gifted Children."

"Nice place."

"How would you know?" Araña asked.

"I live there."

"I hear that Professor Xavier has a cure for any kind of mutation."

"Where did you hear that?"

"Around," she answered quickly.

"Well, it's not true, unfortunately."

"Are you sure," she asked, quietly.

"Yup," he replied.

She thought about this for a few seconds before saying, "Well, I'll just keep going then."

"You know they may not have a cure at the School but they do help."

"I don't need any help," she replied, the edge back in her voice.

"Of course not," he replied, "but if you go to the school you won't regret it. It's a place that you can fit in. And I bet it's been a long time since you've felt like that anywhere."

She stared at him for a second and he thought he was getting through to her when she responded, "Am I supposed to fall into your arms now, sobbing because you figured me out," she said as she turned to continue walking. "Don't count on it."

Persistent, he pulled alongside her again. "Ok, how 'bout this? I'll make you a deal. You come to the school with me, and if in three days you aren't happy with where you are, then I'll bring you back into town, give you some money, and put you on a train to anywhere you want to go."

Araña stopped cold. She stared at this stranger through the corner of her eye. The School had been where she was headed in the first place, and if this guy was on the up and up, all she had to do was stick it out for three days and she had a ticket to anywhere. Confirming to herself that this situation didn't seem to have any kind of downside, she reached out and opened the passenger side door of the jeep.

"I'm Scott, by the way," he said taking the jeep out of park and extending one hand.

She took his in hers, "Araña, and I don't really have crabs." Araña thought she caught him blushing a little before he turned away.