Note: In real time this is now THREE years after the original stories went. I want to use our ages now. :P Screw all those who oppose me!



So there I was, Tash and Christine were asleep and comfortable in their beds, meanwhile I had torn the sheets off the bed, then torn them up literally in my frustration and now was braiding them for no apparent reason other than to busy my idle mind.

After the experiments, I'm pretty much an insomniac. I can barely sleep, though I pretend to for the mental health of Tash and Chris for the most part, but not tonight. If these guys wanted to keep me here, they would know what I'm like from the start. They had already been exposed to my temper, which to my own defence, is actually another personality which was created for the sole purpose of murder. I'm not naturally insane, I assure you.

By morning the braided shreds of bed sheet lay in a tight bundle. I knotted them after I was done braiding them. I was very bored.

First light cracked through the window shade and I sat up on the bare mattress, stretching my arms over my head and hearing a sickeningly satisfactory metallic pop as my shoulders and back realigned their selves. I went to my bag and pulled out some clean clothes, showering and changing all before my friends had gotten out of bed. I ran my hands through my black hair and yawned, adjusting my black tank top on my shoulders and the white dress shirt I wore above it. Both were already soaked from my hair but I really didn't care. I applied what little make up I wore, black eyeliner and some pressed powder and was finished.

When Scott came in with our breakfast he seemed surprised that I was already up, showered and looking more sane than I had the night before. He wore those same sunglasses, though no longer wore the tight spandex. I was almost regretful of that.

"You're up bright and early," he said in a chipper and friendly fashion. My attraction was beginning to fade as I saw more and more boy scout in the man than man.

"I'm an insomniac," I replied bluntly looking over the tray. "Do you have coffee?"

"Only de-caff."

"Not interested then. I'll give your word to the other two when they wake up," I turned around on my chair and looked out the window, tapping a pen I had found under my bed against the table as I kicked my feet up onto the wooden top.

"So you're not going to eat anything?" He seemed genuinely surprised, almost as surprised as he had seemed last night when I so blatantly lost myself in being an obnoxious flirt. I cringe at the memories now...

"I wasn't planning on it really... You guys don't have anything really substantial... Fruit salad? Bran muffins? I mean come on. I want some grease laden bacon, three cheese omelette with sausage and coffee with cream and real sugar... I don't do health food." That was my little rant. I preferred the unhealthy food, I mean I have a gift of not having any ill health side effects from it, I might as well eat it, right? I enjoy it too so there you go.

"Uh..." Scott seemed rather stumped by now so I let him be and shrugged him off. He left and eventually the other two woke up. I really didn't want to deal with the bureaucracy of the day that laid ahead of us and I made this -well- known.

"I think we should just leave now," I said, spearing a piece of fruit with my fork. I inspected it for a moment and then stuffed it into my mouth. I wasn't exactly the one with best manners out of the three of us. Hell, if fruit juice didn't make my hands sticky I would haven eaten it with my fingers. And as for the fact I was eating, Tash and Christine had some doing in that. They get worried when I don't eat as any friends should. What would I do without them?

"You also thought that..."

"Okay, yeah that was a one time thing! I know -now- you don't feed pigeons minute rice!" The three of us broke out laughing at the mention of the infamous Central Park Pigeon incident. Those poor birds, but how was I supposed to know that they'd blow up? I mean really!

We sat in silence for a little while as everyone ate their breakfast. A couple times I tried to intervene and convince Tash and Chris that we should leave, but they didn't go for it at all. We continued to eat our breakfasts, well Tash and Christine ate, I poked at some more fruit, tossing my fork once or twice as if it were a spear of some sort. That made my two comrades rather amused, so I kept doing it, until I decided it would be fun to throw a piece of honey dew and spear it mid-air.

As I did this, the door to our room opened and in walked the short, hairy man known as Logan, Scott and Jean. The fork/melon combo whizzed over Logan's head and was heading right towards Scott's forehead when it stalled dead. Jean had used her telekinesis to stop her boyfriend/husband from having an embarrassing situation arise.

'Damn,' I cursed in link and the three of us Canadian girls giggled. Jean shot me a rather cruel glance and I shrugged it off. No skin off my back if she don't like me, I reasoned with myself. I wasn't going to make getting alone with easy for any one at this school and I believe at this moment I had already made that abundantly clear. And if I hadn't, well then, they must be really stupid for living at a school. An unfamiliar, gravel like sound chimed in with our laughter, and it took me a little longer than it should have to realize that it was Logan snickering at the Boy Scout, as Scott will be referred to from now on.

"Well now," Jean exclaimed as she put her hands on her hips, letting the fork and melon projectile set down on our tray. "Do you three want to call a cab now?" She didn't seem to be buying the story. I don't think any one did. It seemed like a good story at the time, but you know, lots of things seem like a good idea at the time. Example: Breaking into this God forsaken place in the first place. "Or would you prefer that we give you a tour, as there really is no place else for you three to go, is there?"

"Well, there are out standing warrants, we could go to jail without passing Go or collecting 200 dollars," I snipped at her. She and the Boy Scout seemed a little taken aback by my comment, and my smart ass-ness seemed to be causing endless amusement for the fur ball. Tash and Christine were used to my sick sense of humour, but the fact was, we didn't know what kind of place this was. Jail might be preferable.

"You aren't funny," the Boy Scout said, no humour in his voice, but you could tell that behind those red sunglasses there was a smile in his eye, he was just afraid to show it. Pussy whipped!

"Well they seem to think so," I smirked and gestured to Tash and Christine, and didn't even bother trying to muster support from the disgruntled looking midget who had since lost all his humour. I was starting to get the hint that he liked the fire crotch as well.

"Never the less... Natasha, you go with Scott. Christine, you can come with me and Suzanne..." she just glared at me and I took her stare and turned it right back at her with all the cool calm of an iceberg. So maybe those military goons did a couple good things, or bad things that ended up being beneficial to me, though no one else thought so. "Go with Logan."

Chris and Tash looked at the red haired woman as if she were psycho rather than psychic, as did Scott and Logan. I mean, last night we had tried to kill each other and now she wants to act all friendly and buddy/buddy with each other? Not only that, she expects him to take me on a tour of the school. She -must- have a few screws lose.

"You're joking right, Red?" I asked her, raising an eyebrow as I picked up a strawberry unconsciously and bit it. Sometimes my body does things that my mind doesn't know about, and then there are the times my mind does things my body isn't aware of. I don't know which are worse...

"No, I am quite serious," she stated in a blunt fashion which made me think even more so this girl was not quite right, if you get my drift. "Being part of a team is learning to be able to work and get along with people who you don't necessarily like, and -both- of you need to learn that."

I looked at her. Needless to say, I was not pleased. In fact, I can honestly say I was royally "not amused". But I couldn't argue with her, mainly because she was already leading Christine out, talking about the galleries and libraries that the house had, and the opportunities that Christine could have, given her artistic inclination. Scott looked at Tash for a second, a brown eyebrow arching over the frames of his red glasses.

"So...?" Scott looked from a disgruntled Logan to a pissed off me to a confused and slightly apprehensive Tash. I believe she was a little reluctant to leave Logan and I alone in the same room, not wanting to have another royal rumble.

'I'll be fine,' I linked to her, giving her a comforting glance and nod. I stood up and she rose as well. She left with Scott, neither really talking, adding to the awkward silence that would engulf the room.

I sat down in a chair that faced the window, putting my feet up on the ledge. I put my hands behind my head, knitting it into my damp wet hair. "So this is one big mess up, wouldn't you say so? Does Red do this habitually? Or is she generally smarter?"

"Watch your mouth, kid," he growled, more hostility and confusion flooded and betrayed his voice. I think that it was my complete disregard for being compliant that was confusing him. I wasn't interested in seeing anything, in doing anything or being friendly in any fashion. I just wanted to get the Hell out of here. It was just a little too familiar for my tastes...

Silence engulfed us once again. This time it was more hostile than anything else. I could hear the rustling of his clothing as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. He sighed, his chest heaving loudly as I watched the birds floating outside my window in a random fashion; flitting from one side of the window right out of sight.

"We can't exactly stay here all day, kid," Logan growled, growing tired of the stationary position he had taken up on the wall.

"Wanna bet, old man?" I snipped back, kicking my feet off the table and twisting to turn and look him right in the eye. He stared back, and for the first time I noticed that his eyes were blue. This was the first time I had seen him face to face when his eyes weren't scrunched down with anger.

"Even if I have to drag your ass out of this room by your hair," he sneered at me, brandishing his closed fist with the promise of those sharp, Adamantium claws. I could heal, as I already had from last night, but it still hurt. It also hurt to push those claws out; it hurt him and me every single time. It's another thing that we had in common. It's probably all those commonalities that made us so hostile to each other in the early days.

"Fine," I conceded, getting up and standing up to my full height. I was an easy seven or eight inches taller than him and I made him quite aware of this as I glared into his eyes. "If I must."

"You must," he growled at me, expecting me to back down. I didn't do the expected. I stood up straight and looked at him with those same, cold eyes.

He led me out of the room and looked at me. "So what do you want to see?"

"The exit," I flatly stated. Obviously he wasn't as amused as I was. "I don't know. What is this place?" I asked, putting my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

"It's a school, I guess," he growled, putting his hands into his pockets in a simular fashion. "But most of us have been out of school for some time now."

"No kidding," I muttered. Logan looked like he had been out of school since before my parents were even born! He gave me a stare and I decided to stop pressing my luck. Being as disassociated with him as possible, I walked down the hall, dragging behind as often as I could and smirking behind his back as he led me through the halls.

"So, did they teach you anything about cars, there?" he asked, leading me down a hallway which started to smell an awful lot like engine grease, motor oil and gasoline.

"Enough," I spoke with a quick tone, letting the silence overwhelm the two of us once again. I knew where he was leading me, my nose could pick it up easily. I figured that he was trying to find a common ground between us other than we were severely f*cked up and had a skeleton that would forever prevent us from passing through security screens. I chuckled with the idea.

"What?" the gravely voice barked at me as he turned around, crossing his arms over his chest. "Is something funny?" The eye brow rose and I couldn't hold it in any longer. He thought he was intimidating me, and he could perhaps if it was another situation, but not at the moment. I had all the advantages; he was confused, I was aware; he was short, I could look down on him with no problem.

"Nothing," I finally managed when my breath came back to me. I had been laughing so hard that I was forced to lean against the wall for support. My pale face was flushed with red and I felt light headed. My stomach muscles were sore but it was all good. Logan, on the other hand, looked as confused as he had before. I bit back the laughter the he had once again brought on, and forced myself to be calm.

"As far as the cars go, I know American cars, Ford, Chevies, Chryslers; that kinda thing," I shrugged. "I'm not into the pasta wagons, kraut cars or rice rockets, really."

I saw him smirk. "What does the name 'Eleanor' mean to you?"

"God." Eleanor was the 1968 Mustang Shelby GT500 Fastback from both the original Gone in Sixty Seconds and the newer one staring Nicholas Cage. "A beautiful, sexy machine," I added with a smirk. I loved my Mustangs, but Eleanor was on the top.

Logan opened a door at the end of the hall, leading into a garage which was larger than the house I had grown up in. My jaw just dropped. There she was, in silver and black. My Eleanor, except she wasn't mine, she was someone else's baby. That fact wasn't setting in at the moment and I felt the drool well over my lip and closed my mouth, wiping it off with my sleeve.

"Madre Dios..." I whispered, the extent of my Spanish. I kept looking at the beautifully designed machine as Logan walked around her once, explaining all of the modifications and special features that this little lady had on her.

His words didn't affect me in the least as I came to the one conclusion. "Can I drive her?" I asked, much like a wide eyed child asking for that cute little puppy in the window of a pet store when they know that they can't.