Chapter 4

In the observation deck over the Danger room, Storm tried to think of what level would be suitable for Cheryl's first time training. Logan walked in behind her and crossed his arms.

"Has she come out yet?" She smiled.

"No." He sighed, knowing what the problem was.

"She didn't like the uniform did she?" Ororo began to laugh.

"No." He went over to the intercom.

"Little Fang! Get your ass out here!" Cheryl's voice carried out of the locker room clear as a bell.

"No fucking way!"

"Get out here now!" Cheryl stepped into the danger room wearing the generic black spandex suit with yellow gloves and boots, and she did not look happy.

"What the fuck is this thing! It's a wetsuit! That's all this thing is! And it isn't even that good, I mean this is so thin. And you want me to move in this? Oh, and the heels!" Logan jabbed at the intercom button again.

"Shut up, Vamp. We're going to test you to see how you fair with your powers in combat." She stared at them for a second.

"What?!?"

"Use your powers to defeat your opponent." She pulled out her sewing needle as a combat robot began advancing. It stopped a few short feet away from her, waiting for the go. It looks like something from Star Wars, she thought. She looked between her needle to the huge looming piece of machinery.

"This is just fucked up," she said before dodging away from a huge foot. She dodged again and again, never advancing or retreating. It reminded Logan of Whak-A-Mole. He grumbled as he turned to Storm.

"This is a waist of our time." She smiled back thoughtfully at her colleague. He didn't look a day over 24 at the most, but she knew he was older than herself, maybe even more than Charles.

"Maybe she doesn't know that she's supposed to defend herself in the process." They turned back to the simulation to see her riding on the machine's head like a bullrider. Logan pushed at the intercom again.

"You're supposed to attack it, Little Fang!" She stopped as the realization dawned on her.

"Oh!" She was knocked off of the thing, but quickly gained her footing again. She took up a stance, still wobbly before kicking up and lodging her heel into the thing's neck. It twitched before finally falling over, taking her shoe with it. She pulled off the other and swung it around her head.

"Fear my almighty high-heels! Bwahahaha!" Logan raised an eyebrow before laid his face in his hands, better to hide his smile. She was finally able to get the other heel back by the time Logan stepped next to her.

"Not bad, where did you learn to kick like that?" Cheryl remembered when Big Uncle Danny told her they were going to Brazil to watch an old friend of his in a fight.

"Oh, here and there." He looked at the robot again, the hole sputtering and sparking. He didn't want to ask how she knew where to hit it. He just didn't.

"So," he said, turning his attention back to her. "What can you do?" She narrowed her eyes and pointed at the robot.

"Yeah I know, but what can you do with your powers?"

"Oh." She straightened up. "I can do lots of things."

"Anything you can use in combat?" She opened her mouth, but closed it and shook her head. He grumbled again.

"Okay, let's see you make a knife." She looked at her needle, then back up to his face with an innocent look.

"I need more blood." He narrowed his eyes.

"No."

"Please?" He looked up as the doors opened and Scott walked in, dressed and ready.

"Cyclops! Get over here." He jogged over.

"Yeah?" Logan nodded to Cheryl. She pouted, not being able to get some of his wonderful blood. She pricked Scott and drew the blood out. He didn't say anything, just watched his blood form ball the size of a soccer ball. She began to mold it, first into a cylinder, then flattening it and finally getting an edge and point.

"Aha!" she exclaimed, holding it in her hand. Logan looked at it and pushed his finger through it, the liquid swimming in shape around his finger. He cocked an eyebrow. She glared back at him.

"You didn't say anything about density." He sighed again. She was going to be a lot of work.

"Okay, can you levitate?" She knitted her brow together. What was with these people!?! What did she look like? God?

"I'll…try." She took the knife and flattened it into a plate. Logan shook his head. She spread her hands out and began to push the blood out further until it was a thin red disk. She put her foot out, and stepped right through it. She began to swirl the blood around.

"Thanks," she said. "I learned how to make a floating puddle." Scott smiled. Logan didn't.

"Alright then, condense it for me, Vamp." Cheryl twitched at the name again.

"You know I already have a nickname, it's littleb… Vamp it is." The men looked at each other, then back to her as she formed the liquid back into a ball and began squeezing it, literally.

"Squeeze! Squeeze!" Logan began to chuckle.

"Do you need a laxative, Little Fang?" Slowly, the ball began to shrink and deepen in color. Finally, it was the size of a tennis ball, shimmering scarlet and onyx. Her breath was coming out in low pants, but she looked at the little ball with pride and accomplishment. She set her eyes on her teacher and threw the ball at his stomach. It bounced off of him, off the floor and back to her hand. He touched where the ball tickled him and looked back at Cheryl. She was busy playing with it, making it bounce off the walls and ceiling.

"Hey, Little Fang!" The ball flew back to her hand.

"Yes?" He held back his grumble this time.

"What else can you do? You said before that you could do lots of things." She smiled again, a spread of cherry red.

"Yeah, I can change my blood type, purify my blood-and that includes diseases-I can stop bleeding, clot it and make it scab. I can write messages with it. Oh, and for some weird reason, my blood is always highly pressurized." Storm, still up in the monitoring room, sank back into her chair. Logan stopped her.

"Wait, your blood is pressurized." She smiled and nodded as she pulled out her sewing needle.

"See." She poked her finger, squirting out three high projectile sprays. Logan, for the first time since he met her, cocked his head slightly to the side in question, wondering, just wondering, what the fuck. Scott watched the blood spray fly into the air as his own complexion paled. She watched it stop bleeding and clot over before looking back at the two males, their eyes twitching. Logan cleared his throat and pushed the…oddity?...of it aside.

"It just happens?" She nodded.

"Yeah. I think it's because I have more blood in me than a normal human being." Logan turned and started walking back up to the observation deck. Cyclops looked at Cheryl then to Logan, and back again.

"What do you want me to do?" Logan didn't bother looking over his shoulder.

"Stay with her, make sure she doesn't hurt herself." He left the two staring at eachother, Cheryl smiling and Scott twitching. Logan entered the observation deck to see Ororo trying to stifle her giggle. He took his seat next to her.

"I take it you've seen that before?" She nodded, the grin reaching ear to ear.

"She's an interesting child, don't you think Logan?" He didn't answer, just looked out to the danger room. Scott stood to the side, ready to jump in if she needed it. She cleared level after level, crushing robot after robot. Finally, she started to waver, a giant mechanical hand coming at her from the side. Scott stepped in and helped. As the session went on, he was barely able to dodge one of the blades. Cheryl stepped behind him and raised a hand to the small cut that had formed. It clotted and formed a slight scab. More came flying at them, as Cyclops moved to get the right shot. Cheryl followed behind him, concentrating as hard as she could.

"Stop moving damn it!" For the rest of the level, she hid behind Cyclops. Logan smirked.

"Looks like we found her level." Storm looked at the readings gained from the fight. She looked back to him.

"What are you thinking?" He stood up and headed down, showing something of a devilish smirk. Entering the danger room, he stared at the two students. The two were completely different. Cyclops, the senior student of the class, dutiful, take charge, uptight, and self righteous. Then Vamp, the new youngster, laid back, smiling, friendly, and always willing to listen. He almost laughed. Cyclops stood straighter as he advanced.

"Before I tell you what you're going to be doing, let's hear from the Calvary." The boy stammered as he looked at the new recruit.

"Her powers make her more like a medic than a fighter. Maybe she should go see Beast." Logan nodded.

"Alright, Little Fang. Here's the deal. You'll spend half your days with Hank, then the other half training here. I don't care if you're intent on healing the Devil himself. You're learning how to fight." Her jaw dropped. Before she could retort, Wolverine turned and walked away, calling over his shoulder.

"We got a few more hours to go. Let's get started." They trained for hours, going through the same levels again and again. Logan looked at the clock when he saw her trip behind Cyclops. It was five o'clock. He pushed the intercom button.

"Alright, that's it for today. Vamp, you'll go to the Lab at nine o'clock every morning to work with Hank. Now get out of here." He watched as Cheryl shook hands with Cyclops then proceeded to chop down on the dense ball of his blood. She stiffened and he pushed on the intercom to hear what she was saying.

"Milk! Milk! I need! Milk!" She fanned her mouth, tears coming to her eyes. Cyclops looked almost insulted, but couldn't get over the horror of the act. She breathed in deeply, eyeing the blood in her hand. Ororo looked over the controls.

"What is she doing?" Cheryl took a few more gasps of air before shoving the rest of the ball into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed. For a second, she stilled then ran out of the danger room. She ran, tears streaming down her cheeks, unable to scream. She ran past everyone to the kitchen. Gambit was grabbing a glass from the cabinet when she barged in, looking to be in total distress.

"What's wrong, pe'ti?!" She pushed past him to the fridge and grabbed the open carton of milk. She ripped it open, not bothering with the folds. She chugged and chugged, rivers of the drink running down her jaw. The carton tipped up, the last drops falling on her tongue. She shook it, making sure there was nothing left. Gambit inched over, eyeing the torn piece of cardboard in her hand. Her breath came out in low, shallow pants.

"You okay?" he asked again. Her neck twitched as she threw the carton into the recycle bin. She grumbled under her breath. Something about too spicy and not healthy. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Pe'ti?" She turned to him with a bright smile, her eyes a lovely shade of dark cherry.

"I'm fine." He drew an eyebrow up as she exited again and came back, wearing her usual clothing carrying an ipod and her keys.

"Where you goin'?" She walked to the garage door.

"I'm going to find myself a tide table." His head tipped to the side.

"I don' know what 'dat is, but good luck, cher." She smiled again before leaving.

"I'll be back by dinner!" She walked by Mellony and petted her.

"I'm sorry," she said, regret clearly in her voice. "but I think I'll use my feet this time." She put her earplugs in and turned on the ipod. She danced and pranced all the way to town, singing to the best of her ability. People walked around her as she started to sing even louder. She took didn't bother to take notice of this.

"Peaches come from a can!

They were put there by a man!"

"Look out!" she heard someone shout from behind her. She turned and noticed that there was a boy on a flying skateboard coming at her. She widened her stance and braced her arm up, catching the board enough for the boy to make a decent landing. He skidded to a stop and tore off his helmet.

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry! I don't know what I was doing! Are you okay?" She looked at her arm then at the boy, then back again.

"Ow! I mean, ow! You get used to them, but ow!" He stammered as he inched closer to examine her arm. She wasn't crying, or wailing and she was, what, fourteen?

"You know, most people would be screaming in pain right about now, but please don't start." She sighed as she eyed the skateboard.

"And did you know, that if you leaned to the right and kicked up a little bit, you could have cleared that jump?"

The boy wrinkled his brow and thought about it, now that he wasn't about to crash land into another human being.

"I think you're right." She laughed.

"Of course I'm right. Don't question the genius!" He scratched the back of his skull. This girl was definitely weird, and yet there was something familiar about her. He held out his hand.

"I'm Evan. Even Daniels. But friends call me Spyke." She shook his hand.

"Cheryl Davis. So tell me, do you know this town?" He scoffed, kicking up his board into his hand.

"Like the back of my hand." She smiled brightly.

"Good! Where the fuck can I find a fucking tide table." He took her to a small surf shop close to the coast. She jumped him out of joy, finally getting what she was looking for. They walked out of the shop, smiling, when Evan looked at her arm to see the damage he caused. The skin was tanned, non blemished and unbruised. He poked her arm, to see if it was covered by some miraculous make-up…that she didn't have time to put on?

"OW! WHAT THE FUCK!" She grabbed her arm away, Evan still looking at the unmarked skin.

"You don't have a bruise."

"Yes I do!"

"No you don't. You don't have a mark on you! I mean, I have strong bones, but if I took a hit like that, I'd have a mondo bruise." She shrugged.

"Trees hurt more." The comment seemed random, but so true, so he laughed. They walked a ways more, before they both looked at the time and screamed "Dinner!" He looked at her.

"Does your family have dinner at this time too?" She gave a short laugh.

"Well, they're not really family, but yeah."

"Where do you live?"

"Oh, I'm new there. It's the mansion at the end of town. With the big scary gate." He peered at her for a second, then noticed how this small girl had eyes the color of dark cherries.

"The Xavier Institute?" She snapped her fingers.

"Yeah! That's the name."

"Dude! I live there too!" She stiffly put her hand on his shoulder.

"Can you do me a favor?" He nodded.

"Don't call me dude." They walked on to the Institute, talking about boarding sports and whatnot. They reached the front gate and punched in the code for the twisted iron to open. As soon as the gate closed behind them, Cheryl pulled out her sewing needle and poked him. Spyke jumped away, rubbing at the red thread coming from his arm.

"What the hell?" He watched it form and twist into a blob of blood floating in front of her. She slurped at it, and his stomach sank about an inch. Her eyes narrowed with contemplation before she snapped her fingers. The blob began to lengthen and curve into a small celery stick. She sank her teeth into it, staring at her new companion.

"What?" His eye twitched.

"I…" He squinted at the small teenage girl eating his blood, before slapping his forehead.

"I taste like celery?!?" She crunched down on the stick again.

"What?" He let out an exaggerated sigh.

"There's no way I can taste that healthy." She took another bite, looking him up and down.

"Well, you board, and you look healthy. But it could use some peanut butter…" She looked back at the school, a smile forming.

"Come on, it's dinner time." They walked to the front door. The door opened as the whole group cheered for their friend's return.

"Welcome back bud."

"Hey! Evan!"

"Dude, how was home?" Cheryl stood next to the doorframe, watching everyone laugh and greet Spyke. The Professor entered the room with the same generous smile.

"It's good to see you back, Evan."
"Thanks, Professor." The old man turned and look at Cheryl in her small corner.

"Come now, before the food gets cold." Cheryl walked past him. He smiled up at her.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" She looked at him and smirked. There was just something about him… At the dinner table, Rogue sat on one side of her, with Gambit, Kurt, and now Evan sitting around her. They laughed among themselves. When a plate of vegetables was passed around, Evan glared at the celery before passing it on. The day ended and everyone got ready for bed. Kurt teleported next to Cheryl.

"Hey, need any help with your furniture?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Do you honestly believe that I can lift that much?" Scott and Jean decided, after many minutes of debate of the right time, to walk over, shame painted on their faces.

"If you wouldn't mind, we'd like to help. Because of last night." She cocked her head to the side. What happened last night? Her fingers snapped again.

"Oh yeah. Huh. It's no problem. I would guess it's a normal reaction. I think. Maybe…" Scott walked past her and grabbed the end of the desk.

"Hey, Kurt, you going to help or not?" Kurt glared at him before teleporting over. The students helped bring in the furniture, but not before admiring the wonderful paint job done. Many contemplated on asking the Professor if they could do the same. Spyke poked at the still gleaming white trim.

"Why is the trimming still white?" Cheryl smiled.

"Looks sweet, no?" Everything was put in it's place before they said goodnight and retired to their own rooms. Cheryl climbed into bed and started bouncing on it, reminding her of a hotel in Hawaii. After about an hour of jumping on her bed, she turned out the lights and stared at the glow-in-the-dark paint that was splattered on the walls with the other colors of the rainbow. Now, she thought. This was a room.

The song she's singing in the streets is called "Peaches" by Presidents of the USA.

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