This is actually a sequel of sorts, so be warned.
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Darkness was falling and the students of the Xavier Institute were gradually retreating back into the mansion. One of the last to enter was–
"Jimmy!" Rahne called to the younger boys. None of them even looked up from the three-man juggling routine. "Have it your way!" She broke into a run, then dove, as if in a tackle, though he was still quite far away. Instead of falling in the dirt, she changed form into that of a wolf and ran up to them. A light pounce and she had a couple of the small, stuffed horses in her mouth. This threw the boys into disarray and they chased her back inside. On the porch stairs, three became one, though his arms were full of the horses.
And then there were none.
At least, no students on the grounds. A few minutes passed before a girl about the age of the denizens of the house dropped from a tree and crept towards the building. Her outfit of an old tie-dyed t-shirt and ripped jeans merely hampered her attempt at stealth, as did the beagle stuffed animal she held in one arm, so she opted towards speed.
She stopped beneath a cracked window to a hall to sample the air. It was to her liking, so she pushed the panes up further and vaulted in. Again she sniffed around, though she seemed to find what she was looking for. She followed this down a few more halls and to a closed door. Another pause, this time to listen at the door, before she turned the knob and stepped in.
The inside was rather spartan, as though the occupant wasn't at home there in either sense of the phrase. The few pieces of furniture tried to make up in homeliness with the sheer power of mess, but didn't do well: It only served to make it more depressing.
There was an uncluttered spot on the night stand about the size of a small, upright novel. She smiled at this and pulled a wrinkled piece of paper from her pocket. She gave it one last critical look-over before setting it down on the table.
"Logan?" At these words, spoken in a thinned Louisiana accent, she tensed and turned to the door. "Ahre you back ahlready?"
A gloved hand reached in to flip the light switch. She heard a gasp from the owner of the voice as her eyes quickly adjusted to the new atmosphere, though she was able to dodge the punch coming at her using her heightened auditory senses.
"You!" was all Rogue managed before X23 grabbed the doorknob and leapt into the hall, pulling the door shut behind her. She wasn't in the clear yet, for a bespectacled lad turned the corner, saying "What's wrong?" as he came. He quickly changed his tune to one of agitation and grabbed his ruby sunglasses with one hand. "What do you want?" He was quickly incapacitated by a firm kick to his abdomen and unable to chase her back outside. All he could do was watch her sprint off, turning the nearest corner and disappearing.
He turned at the sound of the door opening. Rogue emerged and helped him to his feet. "Why's she back?"
"It might have something to do with this," Rogue said, holding up the crinkled piece of paper. In the light, a drawing of a girl, a man, and beagle done in crayon could be seen with the words "Happy Father's Day" arced over the top. The end of "father's" and most of "day" were squished in and running down the side while "happy" was evenly spaced. At the bottom, in institutional and inconsistent black ink, the letters "icvo X23" were legible.
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My second attempt at sickenly sweet. This goes out to J.L. (an anon. reviewer) for asking for another and letting this out.
I'd also like to apologize for the attempt at the accents.