A/N: Sorry this is so late. I lost my beta reader and have been having computer problems to the point that I've been off-line almost 2 months.

Challenge Issued

Slash. Thrust. Duck. Stab. Roll. Dodge. Uppercut.

He was beyond pain now. Wolverine had been in the Danger Room for over an hour destroying millions of dollars worth of training equipment. The drones were designed to be torn apart just not all at once. The beast in him did not care but the man knew he would be hearing from Cyclops when he left the room, not that he really cared about what old One Eye said. One of the drones got lucky and connected with his jaw. His head snapped back. He growled, furious at his inattention and immediately struck back. The drone fell in scattered pieces.

He swiped distractedly at the sweat rolling down his brow. Despite his numerous claims, even in a berserker rage, Wolverine never truly became an animal. He still had to sweat to control his body temperature. There were times when he wished he could pant instead of sweat. Panting made noise be sweat smelled. He could ignore the sounds but his sensitive nose could not tune out his own funk. He reeked and he knew it.

The problem was that even after over an hour of fighting, he still had no control over the rage.

He looked around, trying to find another opponent only to find the dirty street deserted. He growled in frustration. He scowled up at the control room, angry that Rogue had stopped the flow of drones. He could see Cyclops and Rogue gesturing frantically at him, yelling. Even his ears could not hear through the sound dampening glass the room was built of. He was trying to read their lips when he was hit hard from behind.

He fell hard to the floor, confused. Small hands continued to pummel him. It was not painful, just very annoying. The anger that simmered beneath the surface surged to the front and he flipped over, pinning his attacker with one arm across the chest. He popped his claws and raised them, readying a killing strike.

"That's your answer to everything, isn't it?" she sneered. "Kill it and think about it later."

"Mari?" He looked down at the angry and confused face of his daughter. "What the hell are ya doin' here? I coulda killed ya!"

"Why don't you?" she demanded. "You could save me a bunch of trouble."

Logan relaxed, allowed his claws to slide back into the housings in his forearms and sat up, still holding Mari down with his thighs. He crossed his arms and glowered down at her.

"What are ya talkin' about? And it better not be more of that teenage angst crap. Yer mom's better at dealing with it than I am."

He glanced up at the control room. Rogue had taped a sign on the window informing him of the 501 over-ride.

He sighed and shook his head. "End simulation," he growled to the computer. The street dissolved into the stark metal of the Danger Room. The door groaned open as Cyclops and Rogue rushed into the room.

Logan was lifting Mari to her feet when Scott skidded to a stop in front of them.

"If you ever do anything like that again, young lady, I'll see to it that you are expelled." Scott's face was red with rage.

"Cyke," Logan said, his eyes never leaving Mari's face. The scent of anger was growing and it was coming from his carefree, happy-go-lucky and very meek daughter. "Maybe this ain't the best time to yell at her."

"She could have been killed!" Scott yelled.

"Who gave her the codes?" Rogue demanded. "How did she know how to use 'em?"

"We couldn't even tell you she was in the room," Scott said, throwing his arms up in frustration. "I've never had a student enter the Danger Room when the team in using it. None of the others are dumb enough to try something like this. And to use a 501 over-ride code, known only to the team, is the height of stupidity. There's a reason we don't let students use over-rides, Logan and this is one of them."

"Shut up!" Mari screamed at him as she flew at him, her nails aiming for her teacher's face. Logan caught her before she could connect and do any damage.

"Get out, Cyke," Logan growled, his own anger resurfacing.

"No, Logan. We have to deal with this now, before she gets in into her head to pop in when the full team is training."

"Back off. I'll deal with it." Mari was still struggling in his arms, her expression almost wild.

"Logan..."

"Back off, Scott," Emma told him from the door. "Logan should deal with this. He's her father."

"And I'm Headmaster," Scott countered.

'Trust me on this,' Emma told him in his mind. 'Logan is the only one who can help her and make her understand.'

'Why do I get the impression that we're talking about two different things?'

'Maybe because we are,' she sent back with a mental smile. "Come on," she said out loud. "There's an incident with Allyson Green that we need to deal with."

Logan had to hold on to Mari as she struggled to go after Scott.

"Settle down, kid," he ordered. "Why are ya so hot ta tear inta Scooter, anyway? I know he insulted ya but this ain't you."

"I know it's not me!" she yelled into Logan's sensitive ear. "I don't know why I want to kill him but I do!"

"Ya want ta kill him?" Logan asked, astonished.

Tears began to fall down her cheeks. "Why do I feel this way?" she whimpered. "Why does everything make me mad? Why does everything smell so horrible?"

Logan froze. "Smell?"

"Everything stinks now. It wasn't like this last week. What changed?"

Logan gave a silent groan. 'Why does everything have to be so complicated?' he asked himself.

Mari watched the play of emotions race across her father's face. She shoved against Logan's chest, struggling to get out of his arms. He released her without comment.

"This is your fault, isn't it? I'm having all these things happen 'cause I'm your daughter."

"Hank's the only one who can say if it's me..."

"It's you," she interrupted. "Why didn't you tell me this would happen? Didn't you think I'd want to know? Didn't you think I'd have some problems? Were you just going to let me flounder, maybe kill someone before you let me in on the secret? How could you?"

"Mari, ya manifested at eleven," Logan said, attempting reason. "Ya didn't show any feral traits at the time. We didn't think ya'd have any other powers. How was I supposed ta know?"

"You've been around forever, Dad. You've seen more mutations than any other person on the planet. You've met the children of other ferals. Don't most of them have feral mutations too?"

"Mutations are mutations, darlin'. Everyone's mutations are their own. They don't necessarily breed true."

"I don't give a damn if they don't breed true," she yelled. "I just want to know why you didn't tell me this might happen!"

"Mari . . ." He reached out to touch her and try to dim her anger but she back flipped out of reach with a move that was pure Jubilee. His heart contracted with pain at the reminder of why he was in the Danger Room in the first place.

"Don't touch me!"

"Stop it, Mari," he growled through gritted teeth. "I can't deal with this right now. We'll go to Hank and see what he can tell us."

"I don't want to talk to Dr. McCoy," Mari hissed. "I want the answer from you. I want to know if I'm dangerous right now."

"I can't give ya one," Logan yelled. "I couldn't even keep yer mom safe so I aint the one ya should talk ta."

Mari heard the catch on his voice. 'He blames himself,' she thought.

"You didn't lose her, Dad," she said softly, her anger rapidly cooling. "Someone took her away. We thought she was safe in the hospital."

"I shoulda known better."

"Since when are you a pre-cog?" she asked, sarcastically.

"Ya don't hafta be a pre-cog ta know when ya screw up."

"You didn't screw up, Dad," she hollered. "Dammit! Why can't you understand? You aren't God. You're just a man!"

She stopped her tirade and walked over to him, placing her hands on his jaws. She lifted his chin and forced him to look at her.

"Those men hurt Mr. Drake and took Mom," she said with a soft, passion filled voice. "She's still alive. I can feel her and I know you can too. We'll find her."

Logan frowned at her. "Ain't no 'we' about it, Mari. Ya ain't gettin' involved in this."

"She's my mom, Dad. I want to help find her."

"Ya ain't ready."

"Then get me ready," she challenged.

"No."

"Yes," she countered.

"No, Mari," he said, pulling out of her embrace. "I lost yer mom. I ain't loosin' you, too."

He walked over to the locker and pulled out a towel. He was mopping the rapidly drying sweat from his neck when he heard the challenge he could not ignore.

"You think you can't do it?"

He whirled to face her, his expression angry.

"I know I can," he snarled.

"Then do it."

He stood there, his breath heavy with anger at her for forcing him.

"If you don't, I'll get Vic to train me."

"Goddammit, Mari!" he exploded. "You stay away from him!"

"He's my best friend. He's always been there for me."

"He's got more enemies than Saddam Hussein."

"And you don't?"

"I ain't got the whole flamin' United States Army after me! Not ta mention SHIELD!"

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked him over from head to toe. "And there but for the grace of God go you," she paraphrased.

"God ain't got nothin' ta do with it."

"Doesn't He?" she asked. "Think about it. Think about all the times it could have gone differently. Meeting the right people at the right time. It's happened to you over and over. Hell, think about what would have happened if you hadn't met Mom. You've got someone looking out for you."

She tilted her head and looked into his eyes, seeing the denial in them.

"You may not believe it but you do."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better about ya wantin' ta train?"

"I figure whoever is watching out over you will keep me safe," she explained, shrugging her shoulders. "Whatever. You got a choice: You train me yourself or I call Vic and get HIM to train me."

He scowled at her, seething. "Ya would, wouldn't ya?"

"In a heartbeat."

He gave a frustrated sigh. "Alright. I'll train ya but only so's ya don't get taken, too."

"Great!" she crowed. "Let's get started." She shifted her weight to balance on her toes, ready to fight.

"Not till ya see Hank," he said, walking to the Danger Room door.

She gave a defeated sigh. "I was hoping you'd forget about that. I hate needles."

Mari sourly watched Hank happily skitter about the lab, moving from one piece of equipment to another with obvious glee.

"Your parents never let me do these tests on them," he told her with a toothy smile. "I'm thrilled to have the opportunity to do them on you, my helpful young friend."

"Yeah, well, there's a reason they didn't," she said with a pronounced pout.

"Oh, come now. That wasn't all that painful."

"You weren't on the pointy end of the needle," she grumbled.

"But I learn so much doing them," he told her. "You are the first subject I've had the chance to study that is known to be the offspring of two Alpha level mutants. This is my chance to prove or disprove the theory that two high level mutants will spawn an Omega mutant. That mutations become more powerful in successive generations."

"And ..." Mari could not help herself. He made it sound so interesting.

"In your case, it is most definitely not true," he told her. "You are a Beta level telepath with a healing factor. Your telepathy most likely will never be Alpha level."

"And the healing factor?"

"Not nearly as effective as Wolverine's. You will not be able to recover from a fatal wound as your father can so you can't be as reckless."

"So I'm not X-Men material."

"Probably not," Hank told her, an apologetic look in his eyes.

"What about the other things?" she quickly asked. "The stink and the sounds?"

"You inherited you father's senses but not to his degree. Your's are more like mine. You will eventually learn to recognize people by their scent but you won't be able to track them weeks after they left the scent."

"I recognized fear from Allyson."

"Fear is a very powerful scent. Even normals can smell it but they don't recognize it as fear. Human pheromones are the same way. Normals can smell them but they don't realize that the scent that's attracting them is a hormone. You will and not be fooled by the good smelling young man with ulterior motives."

Mari thought about it for a while. "Why didn't I smell things before?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "You said that all this began after you lost your connection with Jubilee?"

"I didn't lose it," she barked. "It's dimmed but it's still there."

"Of course, my dear," he said quickly.

Mari's mouth dropped open in surprise. "You don't think she's alive," she accused.

Hank looked at her, debating how to discuss this. As her father's daughter, she might smell if he lied but she was only twelve. Talking about the possible death of her mother would be traumatic.

"I don't know," he said, deciding to be as honest as he could. "I want to believe she is but if she's in the hands of some unscrupulous scientist, she might be dead."

"That's why it's important that we find her quick like," Mari told him, hopping off the table and gathering up her clothes. "The longer we leave her out there, the better the chance they're going to get what they want and kill her."

He watched her climb into her clothes and leave the Med-Lab.

"That's the trouble, Mari," he murmured. "What do they want?"