A/N: don't own X-men. Allie owns Allie, and Angela owns the Twins. 'Nuff said.


After her talk with Professor Xavier, Allie was shown her room, where she took a short nap, then was allowed to explore the school. Ororro, as it turned out Storm's real name was, led the way to the main entrance, and left her there to go where she'd like. It was enormous. Two impressive-looking staircases swept up to the second level on either side. Coming down one of the staircases was a scruffy-looking man with his hair combed back to somehow form two points. Well…he looked normal enough. Maybe he was visiting…or perhaps he was one of the less freakish or dangerous ones. She stared at him for a moment. He was kinda hot. Okay, so maybe a little on the short side, but not too short. He had to be at least a couple inches taller than her. Allie couldn't help noticing he was rather muscular too…and toned.

"What are you lookin' at, kid?" he asked as he came to the bottom of the stairs. His voice was low and gravelly. There was a slight accent to it that might have been Canadian. The girl looked away quickly, embarrassed that she'd been caught.

"Sorry," she mumbled apologetically. She rose a hand to bite her nails, only to be reminded that she'd already chewed them off. The man rose an eyebrow at her and sort of grunted before starting to walk away.

Overhead there was a sudden noise sounding very similar to a stampede. Her eyes followed the progress of the sound as it crossed the ceiling one way, then heard someone yelling in panic before crashing into a wall. The Canadian cowboy, as Allie already thought of him, scowled up at the ceiling where the crash had been.

"What was that?" Allie asked. The noise started again going the other direction, followed again by the same scream and crash.

"The Twins," he grumbled. He'd been watching the ceiling as well, only, more like he was hearing something else in it. The thundering noise took another turn and soon a teenaged girl appeared at the top of the stairs, running for her life and squealing like a little kid. Her hair was long and fire-engine red with a black streak. It was absolutely unnatural! In one fearless move, she grabbed the railing for a fast change of direction and slid down the banister to the main floor.

"Logan!" she cried happily, hiding behind the scruffy man. She was really short. She must have been maybe fifteen, judging by her face. Sixteen tops. "Hide me! Hide me!"

The man rolled his eyes in exasperation. Allie stared at her, too, for a moment. The younger-looking girl grinned cheerfully at the newcomer. Once she noticed the expression on her face, she frowned.

"What? Do I have something on my face again?" she tried to wipe away some imagined spot on her cheek. Allie shook her head in disbelief.

"Uh…no…it's just…" Allie pointed at her own hair.

"Oh this?" the girl with the crimson locks tugged at a strand, "totally natural." She probably would have kept talking, but the thunderous noise of someone running interrupted and she fell quiet with stifled giggles and hid behind Logan. Whoever was running was headed toward the stairs. Allie wasn't even sure if she saw right. What ran across the top of the stairs was someone…something that looked like a gray-purple gargoyle. As he passed the staircase the short girl had gone down, he tried to stop and skidded right past it and out of sight. Well, if anything, the hot-handed one knew where the screaming had come from now.

"Angela, give me back my image-inducer!" he yelled, coming back into view. Allie blinked in shock. Her eyes hadn't lied.

"Sorry bub, she's not here," the red and black haired girl said. Only, to Allie's further shock, it was Logan's voice she was using. Logan didn't seem very appreciative of it either, as he spun around to look at her.

"I told you to cut it out!" he growled at her. She didn't seem to be as intimidated as she should have been. Instead, she just giggled and said sorry, again in his voice, as she ran off again.

"Come back here!" the purple figure on the second level barreled down the stairs and after her on all fours. He only paused for a moment before heading through the same door to wave and say hello before taking off again.

It took a moment for Allie to realize she'd grabbed Logan's arm in a death-grip. As soon as her fingers loosened a little, he tore himself free of her grasp and pointed his thumb at the same door.

"The twins," he explained, "got here 'bout two weeks ago." The girl's eyes were caught by something on the arm she'd grabbed. Right where her hands had been were two angry red marks with blisters forming. As she looked, the blisters shrank and the burns vanished. How had that happened?

"Welcome to the institute," he said gruffly before turning and starting to walk away. Allie stared after him, stunned. Why did he get burned? …And how the heck did he heal so fast! 'Oh yeah…' she remembered, 'I'm a mutant…the professor said that's my power…' Her thoughts were turned to the possibility that maybe burns she caused were temporary before she realized that might have been his power. That would also explain why he hadn't yelled at her. He knew it'd go away. Suddenly she looked up again at the retreating figure.

"Wait!" Allie jogged after him to catch up. She almost grabbed his arm again, but pulled her hand back at the last second. She did not want to burn him again. His head turned to look at her, a frown of annoyance flashing across his rugged features. Okay…Hot but scary…

"What." It was more of a demand than a question. The girl balked a little.

"I…I just wanted to know who you are…" She shuffled her feet a little out of nervousness.

"Logan," he said shortly with a slight snort, "they call me Wolverine." Again he faced forward and resumed walking. 'What sort of nickname is Wolverine?' she thought puzzled, '…Come to think of it…what sort of nickname is Storm? Actually…I don't think I want to know.'