Notes: We… might be having way too much fun with the kids in District Seven. We're slightly biased, though. ;)

Chapter 38: "Trouble with Redheads"

January 19

Tahiti Wing

Technically, Clint was supposed to be back in medical, but he was definitely not doing that. He was done getting poked and prodded and all that stuff, and besides, clearly, he was in perfect shape.

But he also wasn't cleared for training yet, since technically, he did get shot, which meant he was just tooling around for the first little while as everyone else had their assignments, settling deep in the couch in the rec room and grinning a bit to himself. Tony had been good enough to clear out the rec room for him and Bobbi last night and screw with Essex' feed a bit, and all it cost Clint was one of those gems he'd swiped from Osborn so Tony could make a necklace for Pepper. Clint didn't have any use for them anyway, so he figured why not — and it was so, so very worth it.

He was just checking through the movie library to find another movie — not that they'd really actually paid any attention to the first one, if he was being honest — when he heard voices down the hall.

"I don't buy the whole 'super good doctor' act," Kurt was saying. "I know he's up to something. I just have no idea what."

"As painful as it is to hear, and for me to say, he is an amazingly good doctor," Charles replied. "Though he is a piss poor therapist." There was a bit of venom to Charles' voice that clearly neither boy had heard, because Clint heard the footsteps grind to a halt as Kurt stopped almost dead in his tracks at Charles' assessment. "It's going to take me months to unravel the mess he's made while I've been gone … doing nothing of any use in the Capitol. Natasha won't even speak while I'm in the room unless Essex is there to direct her."

Clint frowned on hearing that and wasted no time getting to the door. He poked his head out of the rec room and flagged their attention. "So… I was eavesdropping," he started out — no sense lying. "And what the heck?"

"Well I wasn't being entirely quiet about it either," Charles admitted, perfectly calmly and without the slightest hint of remorse. "So I'm sure you heard me correctly."

"Yeah, but Nat…" Clint stopped short. He wasn't sure where to even start, after everything that had happened while Charles was gone. He took a deep breath and tried again. "You know, I've been meaning to talk to you about her, actually. I thought I saw her in One, but …."

"Come to my office, please, Mr. Barton," Charles said suddenly, and when Clint's head came up at the abrupt interruption, he saw that Charles didn't look severe or anything, but he did look… something. There was some kind of fire right there in his expression, though Clint wasn't sure it was directed his way at all. "So we may discuss this more privately."

"Yeah, that's probably smart," Clint agreed, his thumbs in his pockets as he glanced at Kurt. "You mind sharing the prof, Kurt?"

"Be my guest," Kurt said, gesturing with both hands. "I was really just complaining with nothing useful to add. These rules are horrible."

"Yeah, they're real mood-killers," Clint agreed with a bit of a smirk. "And a pain to get around," he added in a lower tone, the smirk widening.

"For some worse than others," Kurt agreed with a little smile to match.

Clint grinned outright at that before he clapped a hand on Kurt's shoulder on his way to Charles' office, though at the prospect of having to talk about the disaster that had been his mission in One, he started to lose a bit of his earlier good mood. Every time he brought it up, Essex had insisted he had to have hallucinated it since, well, Natasha was locked up. He'd seen it himself.

But he was so sure...

He waited until he'd closed Charles' office door before he let the easy grin drop entirely. "So ... do you — did you get any of the reports about what went down in One?" he asked, wondering just how much Charles already knew, and how much of the 'hallucination' story he'd have to fight.

"I read through the report, but I have to admit I found it to be lacking any useful details," Charles said with his hands folded patiently in front of him. "How is it that you have come to enlighten me, but not Agent Coulson?"

"I guess I should try and talk to Coulson too, but Bobbi pointed out to me yesterday that really it sounds more like your department, since, well, Essex says my report is questionable at best considering the poisoning," Clint admitted.

Charles looked thoughtful for a long moment. "We could find out what order it all happened — exactly," he said at lost before he met Clint's gaze. "But it would require a large amount of trust on your part."

Clint looked a little wary at that. "Trust who, exactly?"

"Well, me," Charles said, and Clint's shoulders relaxed substantially. Charles was one of the few people in this place he could do that for. "I could hypnotize you and discover the order of events even through the hallucinations if you like. The process is perfectly safe, and you won't do anything that you wouldn't do in a fully awakened state. It's not like the magic shows and horror movies at all."

Clint considered the offer for a good, long time, clearly a little wary of the idea — not of Charles, just … the idea of having to get to that point... "And if I wasn't hallucinating at all? 'Cause I didn't think I was. Just hurting."

"Then we'd know that too," Charles replied. "I find it a bit suspicious that the blood samples they retrieved from you went mysteriously missing."

"They what?" Clint looked taken aback, and more than a little upset, as he did a full double-take.

"The blood they drew to analyze what poisons were in your system never made it to the proper equipment."

"You're kidding me." Clint stared at Charles open-mouthed. "Do you know … do you know how much getting pricked for that crap hurt? I thought I was getting stabbed, Charles. It was like getting Nat's knife in me all over again! And they didn't even analyze it?"

"Well, if they did — it wasn't on the equipment in the main labs," Charles said with a significant look.

"What about Pete? And Kurt? And Sin?" Clint asked, still openly staring.

"All of that seems to be in place," Charles said.

Clint stared at Charles for a while longer, clearly just ticked at this point the more he thought about it. "It was Nat. She shot me. I'm sure it was," he said finally, through his teeth.

"Can you tell me your story?" Charles asked, pushing the files away from himself. "If you say you weren't hallucinating, I'm more inclined to believe you than to assume it was poison. Particularly since no one else who has been poisoned lately has hallucinated at all."

"Yeah, I can… do you need a watch or something?" Clint asked after a moment. "I mean, to prove I'm not lying, with the hypnotism or whatever?"

"I'm afraid that even with the hypnosis, the only one that will believe you is me anyhow — and no, I don't need a watch," Charles said, unable to help a little smile at the thought.

Clint let out a breath and leaned forward, scrubbing both hands over his face. "I just… he keeps saying I was out of it, and I know I was far gone. Couldn't talk or move or anything, because it hurt, but I know what I saw. But it's only me that knows that. Outside, it looked like I was just… not with it at all."

Charles simply nodded and sat back as he invited Clint to tell his story to him. He didn't interrupt and nodded politely at each pointed, but he frowned as the story went on — the detail on Natasha was not something that sounded made up, especially when he knew how close the two of them had been.

When Clint finished his story, Charles took a few extra moments to get Clint into the right meditative state that was generally considered hypnosis to re-tell it.

To Charles' great relief and irritation, the details matched up perfectly, as did the order of events.

When they were through, and Clint was fully awakened again, Charles had a tight smile, while his eyes flashed with anger. "I believe every word you have told me so far," Charles informed him in a nearly dangerous whisper. "And I don't think for one moment that you hallucinated what you saw."

Clint let out an obvious breath of relief. "Oh good. I was starting to think I was going crazy," he muttered, his shoulders slumped with the weight of it gone.

"I will find proof," Charles promised. "And frankly, I think it's time that I found a way to get unlimited access to Miss Romanoff. Perhaps a bit of hypnotism would help her case as well — and this could be what I need to get that access."

"Didn't you say you have to trust the person hypnotising you, though?"

"Ideally. It is much easier that way," Charles admitted. "It can be done otherwise, but it takes time. I prefer not to take that route if I can help it."

"And it's kinda creepy," Clint said, before quickly adding, "No offense."

"It really is," Charles said, smiling at that.

"But you think you can un-brainwash her that way?" Clint asked carefully.

"It's part of the more intensive process, but yes," Charles said. "It would help to discover what the triggers are that set her off — the names of the people involved — the most ingrained beliefs and standards of behavior — nothing that would cause her harm in any way."

"She shot me, prof. If you can undo that, you're a miracle worker." He paused and seemed to think something over. "Hey… don't tell her about me and Bob, okay? I think she was trying to use the crush I had on her and maybe … maybe I can help if she still thinks she can."

"I won't say anything about anyone else to her. If she's working for someone else — I can't afford to give her anything on anyone."

"Yeah, good point," Clint agreed. "Especially since she's so tight with Doctor Kill Joy."

"Indeed," Charles said. He paused, and the slightest twinkle lit up his expression. "By the way, I've already started the necessary channels to shift back to a more reasonable schedule for everyone. Keep it to yourself until it's official."

Clint broke into a wide smile at that. "Not a peep from me, I promise. But you're about to make a whole lotta kids happy."

January 20

District Seven

Skye was a little curious to see who, exactly, would be stopping by for the Friday night dinner, so she was more than just a little surprised when it was a Sentinel and his wife who came to the door, along with an army of kids ranging from three to about fifteen, all of whom had brought something to help bring the dinner inside.

The woman looked just as surprised to see Skye as she was to see a Sentinel and his wife, and for a moment, the redhead paused in the doorway, looking Skye over with a grin growing at the corners of her mouth that Skye just wasn't sure what to do with.

Her mind was going a mile a minute as panic started to creep up on her fast. Oh, I am so, so busted … Coulson is gonna kill me, I just know it. I'm going to be executed … crap! Skye thought to herself, so wrapped up in her own panic that she almost missed it when the woman spoke.

"Logan didn't tell me he had company," the redhead said as last, shifting the food in her arms so that she could hold her hand out for Skye to shake. "I'm Heather, and this is my husband, Mac. It's very nice to meet you, Ms…?"

"Oh… I'm … Skye," she said hesitantly, taking the outstretched hand before she stepped out of the doorway to let the small army inside. Her heart was threatening to beat its way out of her chest. Heather's husband was smirking hard, and Skye diverted her gaze by offering to take the cooked meat from Heather and almost ducking her head down. "I can … let me help you with that."

"I've got it," Heather said, waving her off as the grin on her face just seemed to be spreading wider and wider.

Skye nodded, and stepped back with her shoulders up to her ears and her hands in her back pockets. Mercifully though, she was able to get out from under the full force of whatever that smile was supposed to mean when one of the little girls who had come with Elsie Dee tugged on her sleeve and held her hands up to be picked up.

"Oh, okay," Skye said, bending down to scoop up the little girl, who immediately launched into a retelling of everything she had been up to in the last 24 hours or so, demanding all of Skye's attention while the rest of her friends — and Heather and Mac — mobbed the kitchen. Skye was trying hard to concentrate as her mind raced … did they know? Would they talk? They didn't look like they knew anything … crap.

Finally, thankfully, someone came in to rescue Skye as one of the older kids slipped into the living room. "I got it," he said, plucking the girl out of Skye's arms to work on wrestling her out of her thin coat and boots to put them over by the rest of the discarded shoes and jackets by the door. It was enough of a distraction that Skye could see she wasn't the only one who had been attacked — Logan already had a small flock of about five kids, with one little boy simply sitting on Logan's foot and half wrapped around his leg, refusing to let go as he just wanted to ride around everywhere like that.

"Thanks," Skye said toward the kid, then paused when she recognized him. This was quickly becoming the assignment from hell.

This — that was just… there had to be some kind of mistake, because this was one of the kids she'd been checking into just a few weeks ago. She recognized his face from the files and from her sleuthing.

She should have realized — Logan said that some kids from the orphanage were coming… But all of a sudden, she realized she was staring at the kid, completely unable to come up with anything to say, because all she could think about was the fact that Fury had wanted his name in the Reaping consideration, and she had researched him to see if that was a viable option — to see if he should die.

When the kid glanced back her way, though, he thankfully misread her expression entirely. "Sorry, it's a little overwhelming, I know," he said, looking honestly apologetic as he set the little girl in Mac's direction. "I'm Scott, by the way."

"Skye," she managed to say quickly, trying to recover. "We should… go… help Heather and Mac."

Scott watched her for a second before he just shrugged and nodded, though if he thought her behavior was odd, he was distracted from saying anything when one of the younger kids asked for his help reaching the cups so she could help set the table, and then Scott had a little kid in his arms and wasn't so focused on Skye. Especially when the girl was being so affectionate and telling him that he was her favorite.

Skye was ready to back out then and there. Logan had said it would be okay for her to hide if she just locked her bedroom door. She could just hole up in her bed with some coding without having to deal with what she was sure was a dead kid walking. She took a few steps backward toward the staircase and nearly tripped over one of the small kids that was playing behind her.

She quickly apologized and helped the little boy up — who then stole a quick kiss on the cheek — and as she put a hand on the bannister, Heather got to her.

"So, Skye, where are you from?" Heather asked with genuine interest and a warm smile. "You can't be from Seven, or I'd have seen you around before."

"No, I'm from the Capitol," Skye said — backing off of that first stair and turning toward her inquisitor. She got even more stuck and unable to hide when Elsie saw her talking with Heather and just ran over to half climb up Skye's side.

"Skye says she's teaching Logan," Elsie reported, and Skye very nearly groaned out loud, wishing now that she'd come up with much less flimsy explanation for what she was doing in District Seven. It just hadn't occurred to her that she would have to come up with anything, because everything pointed to Logan being a loner.

Skye had figured she'd just be up for two weeks tucked away with the newest victor and her laptop trying to teach him basic cyber-warfare in somewhat cozy quarters. And she was oh so very wrong about that.

"Oh?" Heather turned to give Skye her full attention, and Skye very much wanted to crawl under the nearest rock and hide. "What are you teaching him?"

"Just… computer stuff," Skye said lamely, even more unable to come up with a viable lie with Heather putting the pressure on. And she was wondering how she could get Elsie to stop when she was just half-tucked into Skye and smiling angelically as if she wasn't getting Skye in so much trouble.

"Computer stuff?" Heather repeated with both eyebrows raised. "What on earth for?"

"He …needed to know …um ... things. And he's a fast learner," Skye said, trying to play it off and desperately trying to recover. "And…" She made a motion toward the living room and its shelves and shelves of books. "It helps that he just likes to learn new things." She ended her statement just nodding her head and fidgeting with her fingers as she tried to look casual. This probably would have been much easier if there was a believable reason for a Capitolite to be out in the districts. She actually wasn't too bad at lying her way out of things, but there was just no good excuse for her to be out here in the middle of nowhere — at least, no excuse that wouldn't get her into more trouble than she was ready for.

Heather pursed her lips for a moment and gave Skye a clear once over. "And you came all the way to District Seven, out of the goodness of your heart, to satisfy his curiosity," she said in a tone that clearly said she didn't believe a word of it.

"I... " She trailed off. "Well, yeah, more or less," she said with a shrug. "He'll .. need to know this stuff when he gets back …" But she didn't know how to explain herself further when she knew she was grasping at straws.

Heather watched her for a moment, her expression still reading that she didn't believe that explanation, though it didn't look like she was upset with Skye, either, more like she was just holding back a smile. Which only confused her more.

"So, how long have you and Logan known each other?" Heather asked, pausing to direct some of the kids on setting the food out before she turned back to Skye for her answer.

Now, this part, Skye felt she could be honest about. And that was the best policy for lying your way out of a situation — tell the truth as much as possible and bluff your way through the rest. It was what had kept her alive before Coulson found her, after all.

"We met on the train during the tour, actually," Skye said with a genuine smile. "I do some work on the Games prep teams, so we saw each other around."

"What kind of work?" Heather asked.

"I'm not actually allowed to talk about it," Skye muttered, thankful that at least that much was true. Heather just raised one eyebrow at that, though Skye did her best to look properly sheepish. "It's nothing earth-shattering like arena design or anything. I just write algorithms."

"Which is what you're teaching Logan," Heather said, still clearly not believing it as she advanced on Skye slowly.

"More or less," Skye said. She shifted a bit under Heather's gaze before she decided to try and turn the tables. "So, how does a Sentinel's wife end up with half the orphanage in the home of the newest Games victor?" she asked, biting her lip as she wondered if Heather even would answer her.

Heather smiled easily. "Logan and Mac go way back. Mac has been around for just about every time Logan got himself into trouble — at least the official kind," she said, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

"And the kids?"

Heather shrugged up both shoulders. "Someone needs to make sure these kids are taken care of, and, honestly, look at them." She gestured at the kids, a few of whom were helping to set the table, though most of them were in the living room squealing and screaming with laughter and hanging onto Mac or Logan. "I don't know what they're feeding these kids at that place, but it's clearly not enough. It's only been a few months, and you can already tell the difference."

Skye glanced over at the kids with a more critical eye and couldn't help but frown a bit. They all looked scrawny and underfed — this was an improvement?

"I mean, look at Scott — he's grown almost a foot since I informed him he was coming for Friday dinners," Heather continued, and Skye just frowned at that and tried to redirect again.

"So, you're in charge of this circus?" Skye asked.

"No, no — I just feed the lions," Heather said with a smile and a laugh.

"That's… a lot of lions," Skye observed, finally starting to relax a little. If they were taking care of kids out there — which … she was reasonably sure just didn't happen in the districts — maybe this wasn't the horrible scenario she was afraid it was.

"I'm not a lion — I'm a wolf," Elsie told both of them very seriously before she simply tipped her head back and did her very best wolf howl, which had the nearest kids falling apart in giggles and set off a chorus of new animal noises.

"Alright, it's officially a zoo here," Heather said, shaking her head before she looked at Elsie. "Do you want to get all the other animals into the kitchen for dinner?"

Elsie beamed and nodding, wriggling out of Skye's arms to go and corral the other kids, all of whom had their favorite animals.

"Is it always like this?" Skye asked, grinning despite herself.

"Not usually. But Logan's been gone for a while — and they have a new friend to play with," Heather said with a little smirk her way.

"I'm really not going to be here for that long," Skye said. "They shouldn't… it's really…" She shook her head as she watched the kids dragging Logan and Mac into the kitchen. "Wait. They're being cute on purpose, you mean."

"Oh, definitely," Heather said with an almost impish grin as Elsie proudly led Logan to the head of the table and the kids all settled in — all sitting according to where Elsie assigned them, as she was clearly in charge. Which meant Skye was on one side of Logan and Elsie on the other so Elsie could pester them both.

"Your minions are really something else," Logan said to Heather. "What'd you bribe 'em with this time?"

"I didn't bribe them with anything," Heather said, though her eyes were sparkling with trouble.

"You're a horrible liar," he replied with a little glare that had no heat behind it.

"Mrs. Heather got some sweets," one little boy said, leaning over Skye's side with wide eyes as he clearly couldn't keep the secret to himself.

"And what did she tell you to do?" Logan asked, watching Heather out of the corner of his eyes.

"Be nice to your lady friend," was the reply as the little boy looked very proud of himself and grinned brilliantly at Skye with a little wave — clearly being nice to her on purpose.

Skye turned pink and looked down at her food. "That's not… I'm just helping him out," she muttered.

"Well at least he's honest," Logan said before he turned Heather's way. "Are you done now? Using kids? Come on."

"Well, how else am I supposed to know what's going on with you?" Heather teased him. "I found out you had a visitor from Elsie."

"Well that's what happens when you send your spies out instead of asking me yourself," Logan replied smoothly. "And since when do I have to report everything I do to you, Mrs. Bossy?"

"I ask so little, Logan — I just want to have dinner with you on Fridays and know when you have big changes in your life." She tipped her head at Skye with an ill-hidden smile. "Like having such nice company."

"Yeah. Very nice. Especially considering what happened when I was in the Capitol. Nice to have someone assigned to me to pull my ass outta the fire." He looked up at Mac for a moment and switched to a tone that both Mac and Heather were intimately familiar with. "I mighta pissed off a couple people. Maybe."

"That doesn't surprise me," Mac said with a smirk and a shrug. "How much trouble did you get in to get a babysitter?" he asked, a bit more seriously as he leaned forward and spoke in a lower tone.

But instead of bristling at the suggestion that he needed supervision, Logan shifted a bit and held his breath for a moment. "Just about as much as I could."

Heather and Mac shared a look for just a moment as Heather's whole body language switched to one of alarm. "Who'd you piss off?" Mac said with the beginnings of a frown.

Logan turned toward Skye for just a moment before he looked back at Mac. "Couple higher up politicians."

"My boss," Skye supplied, catching on. "So… here I am in the snow and the cold."

"They didn't like my sense of humor," Logan added. "Well. He didn't. Little higher up than that did."

Mac shook his head at Logan and scrubbed a hand over his face. "You're lucky they just sent you home with homework and a nice tutor."

"So I'm told," he said with a shrug. "Not sorry. At all."

Mac shook his head again. "Just be careful and don't piss off the wrong people, alright?"

"Sure, Dad."

"Ooooh, he called you dad," one of the kids said, which got a little chorus of giggles as Mac gave Logan a look.

"It's not like they don't expect that from Seven victors at this point," Scott said quietly with a look immediately afterward that said he hadn't meant to say it out loud — but was going to stand by what he said anyway.

"Yeah, I think the psychological profile said 'drunk lumberjack' whatever that means," Logan muttered back.

"Kind of an accurate description," Scott pointed out.

"That's what I said," Logan replied with a nod that had both Heather and Mac frowning. "Tell that to this one though. She's wastin' her time."

"I am not," Skye said, crossing her arms over her chest. "If I was, I sure wouldn't stick around for… anything but lessons."

Heather perked up and Logan just looked at Skye for a moment with his chin propped up on his palm, waiting for her to catch up to what she'd just said.

She caught his gaze and then just… stopped. "I meant dinners and stuff," she said in a half-scandalized whisper.

"No, it's fine. Keep digging," Logan said dryly.

"What do you two get up to when you're not having 'lessons'?" Heather asked with an obscene grin, leaning forward with both eyebrows high as some of the girls who were old enough to get it were giggling madly.

"There is nothing I can say at this point to get you to come out of the trees is there?" Logan asked Heather, who acted like she was thinking about it for a moment before she shook her head.

"I just think it's nice that you're not all alone in this big house after that ridiculous tour," Heather said loftily.

"And she's going back after her two weeks are up," Logan pointed out.

"Yeah, I have to get back to work," Skye said. "Other stuff to do, you know?"

When Heather looked like she was ready to start in again, Logan cut her off. "You know, I thought it wasn't polite to grill people like that — but maybe things are different out in the woods with the wolves."

Heather shot him a look for that one, but at least she backed off, turning to other conversation with Mac and some of the kids as Skye discreetly gave Logan a very grateful look.

The rest of the meal passed in what more or less counted for peace with a house full of rowdy kids, though Skye had barely finished eating when she was seized by several small hands and dragged off to go play in the living room as the kids clearly wanted to make the most out of their time with their newest friend.

Heather took that as her cue to seize Logan for herself and pulled him aside, her eyes bright as she pointed her finger at him. "You took a pretty girl home from the Capitol," she said.

"No — she showed up on her own. I had no idea she was coming," Logan replied. "Knew I was in trouble, but I didn't know it would be her."

"You can't have been in that much trouble, if she is your punishment," Heather said with a distinct spark of trouble in her tone.

"Why? Just because she's pretty?" he asked, crossing his arms and giving her a look.

Heather just beamed at that. "I knew it."

"Knew what? That I can spot a pretty girl? I'm not blind," he said as he rolled his eyes. "But I really did get on the wrong radar."

"The last time you got on the wrong radar, someone else came to straighten you out. I know — Mac told me," Heather pointed out, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "And this time, my trouble has his head on the line."

She dropped a bit of her teasing look as she raised her eyebrows. "That high up?"

"Yeah," he said quietly. "That high."

"What did you do?" she asked, clearly taken aback now.

"It doesn't really matter at this point," he said. "I can't do it again anyhow, and I can't tell you what led up to it."

Heather just frowned a bit and shook her head. "I don't like the idea of you catching any attention at that level. That's bad for everyone."

"I know. It wasn't intentional," he promised before he let out a breath. "But Skye's trying to make sure I don't step on anyone's toes like that again, and she is prepping me for what I need to know when they make me go back."

"She told me she was a computer-something or other."

"Official line and only partly true," he replied. "All the victors need to know basics, and since I'm rated at 'drunk lumberjack,' I get the more intense course. But do yourself a favor and don't read any of the papers."

"Why?" she asked with one eyebrow raised.

"Because you're smart enough to read between the lines, and I wish you just wouldn't."

Heather gave him a little smirk. "I think you just complimented me by insulting me," she teased.

"Part of how I got in trouble," he replied with a self-deprecating look. "But the other way around. Luckily, they weren't smart enough to catch it."

Heather just sighed and reached over to rest a hand on his arm. "Just be careful, alright? Those are dangerous waters."

"So I'm told," he said, nodding. "But that girl? She is trying to help. Don't traumatize her just because you got cabin fever and want to play matchmaker."

"That's not what I'm trying to do," Heather pointed out before she stepped forward and gave him a hug. "I just ... want to see you happy is all. It's been a long time."

"That … is no reason to drag her down with me," he half laughed, returning her hug. "You and I both know I'm no good for anyone. But while we're on it — do me a favor and try to rein in the minions? We really do have a lot of work to get done and I don't think I'm smart enough to soak it all in before the clock runs out."

"That's a lie," Heather said with a smirk. "But I'll rein in the zoo, sure." She just gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before she headed off to go round up the kids, past the half-open door where Skye had been unable to resist eavesdropping.

It took her a good few moments to get her blush back under control, listening to the way Heather was talking her up. And the fact that Logan thought she was pretty…. She shook her head. Be. Professional, she scolded herself before she went back out to get mobbed by kids all over again.

For the most part, the rest of the little impromptu gathering was peaceful, if not completely entertaining, and when it was over, Skye had to almost laugh at the relieved look on Logan's face as he dropped heavily onto the couch and covered his face with his hands then leaned back until his head was resting on the back of the couch.

"You didn't have to put up with any of that," he said with a groan as he tried to relax. "Even if I tell her to knock it off, she'll come back next week anyhow." He picked up his head to look her way. "She took my spare key and has a few boundary issues."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that out all on my own," she replied, still a little wary of saying much of anything to him after overhearing what she had. "But ... if you're not too fried, we really do need to get back to work. You're doing great — but you have a way to go still."

"Got it. Can't make you look bad," he said with a nod. He had just gotten to his feet as she set up her laptop when the phone rang in the next room over. Logan's shoulders dropped a bit on hearing it, and Skye had to smirk a bit wider when he swore out loud.

Charles Xavier had been trying to talk to him, and Logan admitted that he'd called already no less than three times since he'd returned to Seven. But she didn't expect him to handle the conversation the way that he did.

He sounded tired — more tired than Skye knew he was — when he answered the phone and stood in the doorway, leaning in the frame. As the man on the other end of the phone talked, Logan put the phone on his chest and looked around himself until he picked up a sheet of paper. "I'm sure you know what you're talking about and you're very impressive — but I really don't like to talk on the phone," Logan said before he started wadding up the paper and rubbing it against the receiver. "You're breaking up. Static on the line." Logan reached up and simply pulled the cord off of the phone. "Oops. Got disconnected," Logan said before he just dropped the receiver on the table near the phone and headed over to where Skye was grinning at him.

"That is so not how you do static," she told him, entirely amused as he sat down next to her.

"Hey. I was working with what I had. What the hell do I know about making fake static?" he said before he pointed to himself. "Not the smartest guy in Seven."

"Oh. I'm going to have to teach you some of that stuff too," she replied, still laughing as she set up his next lesson. "Paper. That's … you really are bad at this tech stuff."

"So shut up and make me better," he shot back with a little smirk. "Not sure what you were expecting from some rando lumberjack."

"Oh, it's so happening," she promised him with a smirk to match, much more relaxed after that bit of comic relief.