CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
…..that purring thing you do.
Two, no, THREE "meetings" in one day. The Professor HAD to have one heck of a headache right now. She pondered this as the five of them stood in the Professors office…..AGAIN.
Victor and Logan, put under mind control again, stood almost at attention. The Professor sat calmly in his wheel-chair though there were some slight signs of stress, if you knew where to look; (a few extra lines in his forehead, an exasperated gleam, well hidden, in his eyes) and the weather witch, the one who had held her in the limo, was there as well with a maternal hand on Cassie's shoulder, the scent of gardenias wafting in a breeze that REALLY shouldn't have technically been able to be in the room since all the windows were closed.
"It has only been one and a half days since the three of you have been here and, already, Victor, Logan, I have had to stop you three times from tearing each other apart!"
Cassie ignored the dialog and began eyeing the phone on the desk. She had only known her crazy captor for a few days and his amnesiac brother for one and a half, but she had a feeling that the whole 'trying-to-rip-each-other-to-shreds' thing wasn't going to go away anytime soon…..Probably never. The wheel-chair guy (in her opinion) was fighting a losing battle. No, instead she was focused more on the phone. Of getting ahold of Steve. He could come get her out of here. Help her make sense of things.
*In a bit, Miss. Andrews, you may use the phone.* she heard the Professors weary voice in her head and jumped a little. That was going to take some getting used too.
Victor/Sabretooth may have been "frozen" but he could still speak, move his eyes, and he obviously noticed her jump, or maybe sensed it since she was standing behind him. He growled threateningly towards the Professor. "You have anything to say to her, cripple, you can say it infront of me and OUT LOUD. And what kind of school are you runn'in here!? You're cubs aren't healthy, and several of 'em aren't sleeping right."
His accusations about the health of the "cubs" snapped her out of her thoughts of the phone and her jaw dropped. Did her crazy kidnapper have a soft spot for kids?...Wow, that wording was ironic.
"'Noticed that too, didya?" Logan/Wolverine/Jimmy-boy growled out. For once it seemed that the two brothers were in agreement.
Still not able to turn his head, Victor none-the-less growled to his younger brother. "Why haven't you done anything about it, Jimmy, whether or not you forgot how I raised ya!?"
"I've BEEN tryin', fleabag! You ever try to hunt for over a million kids?"
"They're cubs, Jimmy. And the two of us together could cover more ground."
Her jaw dropped for a few moments before she felt a smile taking over her face. Were the two of them actually having a DISCUSSION on how to take care of KIDS!? It was actually kind of…..dare she say it...sweet.
"This is NEW YORK, you crazy fleabag" Logan countered. "Where do you think we could possibly find prey and get it back here fast enough before it starts to go bad!?"
"Well, you have a jet, don't ya?!"
She could actually hear the embarrassment in Logans answering growl.
"GENTLEMEN!" The Professor exclaimed, now using both hands to rub his temples. "I can assure you that the children here are well taken care of!"
When both ferals scoffed at the exactly same time in the exactly same way,she could see how they could be brothers.
"The question right now," Xavier continued. "Is what to do since the two of you cannot seem to be in the same building together."
Victor/Sabretooth growled threateningly. "He was supposed to WATCH the frail!"
"I told you, you over-grown furball, she was in the SHOWER!"
"Gentlemen, do NOT make me take away your power of speech as well!" The Professor threatened. "You two HAVE to figure out how to get along! Logan, I know you don't want to believe it, but Victor IS your brother. His memories, unlike yours, are clear and precise; he practically RAISED you."
Another low growl from Logan.
"And Victor," the Professor addressed, "you must give Logan time to remember. He's not going to remember you in one day. I know it's frustrating, but you must give him TIME! Now, I am going to, against my better judgment, leave the two of you alone. Logan, I believe you have something you wanted to ask Victor about Jonsey. Storm, Miss. Andrews, come with me please."
Victor growled low as he was released from the Professors 'mind grip'. "She stays with me, baldy."
The Professor gave out a low sigh. "At least let Storm take her for a tour of the school."
Victor growled again, emphasizing slowly this time; "Not….without…..ME….."
"Very well, Victor." Then the Professor spoke to her. *Don't worry, my dear. Would you like me to call this man Steve for you?* She gave what she hoped was an imperceptible nod. "Miss. Andrews, I left a copy of 'The Lord of the Rings' on my desk for you to read, if you would like."
She gave another nod, still eyeing the feral brothers.
Victor started his low, warm purr, the one that seemed to make every worry and trouble she had fade away; the one that made her feel like she was safe and cushioned in soft goose-down. She felt her muscles relaxing without her own consent and frowned.
"Stop that." She tried to order, but couldn't muster any heat behind her words.
Victor gave out a low, throaty chuckle. "No. Keeps ya' calm, frail. And you need it."
She rolled her eyes, but decided not to comment, moving determinedly towards the Professors desks where one of her favorite portals to fantasy was located. Sure enough, a hard-cover copy of J.R.R. Tolkiens "The Lord of the Rings" was lying there, ready for her. Anxious to delve into the fantasy world, she took a soft, cushy seat in a corner of the room, tucked her legs up under her and started to read, ignoring the two feral brothers the best she could.
`When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was very much talk and excitement in Hobbiton…..`
Victor watched her for a few moments, like a great cat stalking its prey, checking on her. Then he turned to his younger brother and gave a smug smirk. "What's this you wanted to ask me about?"
Logan almost told the fleabag to stuff it but, if it would help Jonesy…..he took a deep breath and attempted to swallow his pride. "That…..that purring thing you do. That calms her down…..could it…..could it work on kids?"
Victor gave a deep nod. "Yeah. Cubs and frails, Jimmy-boy. Somethin' about being able to keep your mate and cubs calm in the woods when somethin' bad goes down. Helps keep order and keeps them healthier. Used to use it on you when ya had nightmares; calmed you right down when you were a cub."
Logan shifted on his feet, looking as if he didn't know whether to throw a punch, continue his questioning, or go and beat something up to get rid of his embarrassment. "So why doesn't it affect me?"
"Because you're full grown, runt. Well, at least in body." Victor smirked as this playful jab. "It wouldn't work on the cripple either. Any grown man, infact."
"What's a frail?"
Victor had to think for a moment, searching his mind for the words. "A….A female, runt. A woman."
Logan smirked. If this Sabretooth called Rogue a "frail" to her face, he was in for some interesting surprises. Might be worth his little southern bell seeing Sabretooth if he got to see that. …..Wait…..HIS little southern bell!? He shook the thought from his head. "When does this…this purring thing stop working on cubs, I mean kids?"
"Usually when they hit sixteen for males. Never stops working on the females, though. I guess nature knew they'd be more flighty." He couldn't help a smirk when his frail glared up at him from her book, but didn't say anything.
Logan narrowed his eyes in thought. Jonsey was seven.
"You got a cub that's panicking, runt?" Victor asked and the slightly surprised look on Logans face told Victor he was right on the mark.
"Maybe….." Logan growled.
"Male or female?" Victor cut straight to the point.
"Male."
"How old?"
"Seven."
"Should work then. He have'n nightmares?"
Logan growled again. "Not exactly….."
"What then? Panic attacks?"
"This kid, he's scared to go to the cafeteria to eat. Won't do it."
"Why? He being bullied?"
Logan just could NOT believe he was actually having a CONVERSATION with SABRETOOTH about this! Oh well, he had already started. "His eyes and ears are real sensitive. The Professor made him some special sunglasses to wear, but he doesn't want to wear'em. But it's not good for him not to be around others. He has to socialize."
Sabretooth nodded sagely, crossing his well-muscled arms comfortably across his chest. Over in the chair she had chosen, Cassie had actually closed her book, the conversation igniting her curiosity.
"When you hold the kid—" Victor began.
"Who says I hold'em?" Logan growled, but his older brother just kept talking over him.
"—think about what you're feeling. About what the cub's feeling. How he's scared and uncomfortable. Then just….." Victors muscles rippled as he shrugged. "It's kind of like growling, comes instinctively. You can actually feel it in the base of your throat. Like a tickle. Then just…..purr. Nature'll take care of the rest."
Cassie then decided to butt in. "Is there anyway to…..er…..combat the purrs effects?"
Victor snorted over at her. "And what would be the point of that, frail? You WANT to stay panicky and scared? If you had a way to combat it then there wouldn't be any point of being able to actually do it."
She scowled at him and Logan chuckled, making Victor look back at him. "Now, about this marking thing your doing. It's bad work."
Logan did a double take. "Wait…what marking thing?"
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VOCABULARY:
IMPERCEPTIBLE: adj. so small or slight that it is not noticed [an imperceptible scar]
MUSTER: v. 1 to bring or come together; [to muster troops for roll call] 2. To gather up [she mustered her strength] n. 1 a gathering together, as of troops for inspection. 2 the persons or things gathered together. 3 the list of soldiers, sailors, ect. In a unit muster out: to discharge from military service. Pass muster: to be approved after being inspected.
éthe definition I meant was number 2. "to gather up" "…..but couldn't muster any heat behind her words"