A/N: As usual, these characters and this incredible world are both not mine. I just play with them. Please review...I live by them.

"You can't be serious! Blue boy?"

"Logan!" The Professor says sharply. "I believe Herr Wagner and I have something to discuss. And seeing as how there is no way I could physically remove you from the room?" he says, indicating his wheelchair. Logan is not fooled. He knows if Xavier wishes, telepathically, Logan would be removed. He was at least being fair; Logan had to give him that. "I will beg for your silence while Kurt and I have our discussion."

Logan glares at the Professor menacingly. "You're damn right, Chuck. I'm sitting right here," Logan says, lowering himself into a supple brown leather chair in a corner. "Trust me, this is one fairy tale I ain't missin'."

Kurt looks between the two men. His tail shivers slightly at the way Logan is looking through him. "Am I still needed, Herr Professor?" Kurt asks softly.

"Yes Kurt, of course. Please, have a seat." Charles says kindly.

"May I ask what this is about?" Kurt questions.

Xavier stalls a moment by looking pointedly at Logan. Logan casually shrugs, and gestures towards Kurt, as if cueing Xavier to start talking. Xavier clears his throat and folds his hands on the desk in front of him.

"Kurt, what do you know about your family?"

"What tests do you want to run now, Hank?" both Scott and Rogue ask together. "And for the love of God, how long will this last?" they finish together, with identical unamused expressions.

"The summation of the data pertaining to my analytical hypothesis is that the verbal mimicry is the primary symptom of an enhanced physiological connection."

Both Scott and Rogue stare blankly at the furry doctor, who sighs exhasperatly. "I think you two are connected at the brain, and the double talk will end by the end of the day."

"Thank God. What about the test?" Rogue asks, clamping a gloved hand over the mouth of a startled Scott. ::This is going to drive me nuts!:: she thinks to herself.

"Well, I want to run a DNA test on both of you, so that we can see if this is a permanent change to your mutation or only a side effect."

"That sounds okay," Rogue says, before her face contorts into one of playful disgust as the Doctor's back turns to collect his medical supplies.

She turns to look into Scott's mischievous eyes. "There a reason ya just licked me, sugah?"

"Well, I was fixin' ta bite ya, but I thought that might be rude," he replies, mocking her drawl.

"That was gross, darlin'." Rogue says, wiping her gloved hand down her thighs.

"Meine Mutter..." begins Kurt in German. "Well, the woman I call my mother is really my adopted mother. I was found as a baby, on a riverbank, by a gypsy woman named Margali Szardos. The cloth I was wrapped in came from the house of the local barony. The Wagner family."

"Like Moses from the Nile," says Logan with a snort.

"Logan, please," chides the Professor. "Go on, Kurt."

"Margali raised me as her own, among the circus folk. My life there was much like the life you are trying to build for your pupils, Herr Professor. For me, the circus was a place where I was not a demon, or a freak of nature. I was Kurt Wagner, and my circus family accepted me as such, with no reservation and no prejudice."

"So why did you leave?" Logan asks.

"I had an argument with my sister," Kurt says, rubbing a three-fingered hand across the tattoos on his forehead. "I ran off in anger. I was... was ist das Wort? Abducted. Before I could return home. By Colonel Stryker."

"Kurt, I learned something about you when I first probed your mind," the Professor says, wheeling himself away from his desk and towards the ink-skinned mutant. "Something about your biological mother."

Kurt looks at the Professor, startled.

„Unglaublich!" Kurt exclaims. "Please, Herr Professor, if you know who my mother is, please tell me!"

"As you wish," Xavier says, furrowing his brow. "But you may not like what I tell you."

"All right, Rogue," Dr. McCoy says. "I'm just going to take a vial of blood from both you and Scott. We should get the results by the end of the day."

"Well, lets get this damn thing over with," Scott and Rogue reply together, with identical looks of disdain marring their features.

Hank chuckles. "Impatient as always, I see. This is not going to hurt." Hank quickly jabs Scott's offered arm, and in one quick motion attaches a vial to the needle. Rogue watches fascinated as the bubbling, spurting blood quickly fills the glass cylindrical tube. She remains riveted as Hank removes the tube, now filled with crimson plasma, and attaches another tube, and she gets to watch it all over again.

"May I ask you a question, Rogue?" Hank inquires. Rogue nods her head as an answer. "You still have Logan in your head, do you not?"

Rogue looks quickly down at her hands. "He's always there. Right now is the first time since I came here that he ain't the loudest voice in my thoughts."

"Is that a problem?" Scott asks unexpectedly.

She only shakes her head. "It ain't bad or good, Mr. Summers. It's just... different. I can't explain it really. He's been in the forefront of my consciousness for a while now, and it's as if he's gone, but never far away, at the same time." She looks at Hank and offers a weak smile. "I guess it must sound like I'm babbling. I probably ain't even making sense. Why do you ask?"

Hank smiles. "You seem entranced by Scott's blood. It seemed a very Logan-like interest."

Rogue giggles, and the men join in with a chuckle. "I guess I'm a little surprised that blood is the same color with or without these glasses on."

"It is?" Scott asks, taken aback. It has hit him-- for the first time in his entire life, he has the Cliff Notes. He has someone that knows exactly what he sees as well as what everyone else sees.

Rogue grows quiet, turning to look directly at Scott. She can only nod. The glasses slip slightly on the bridge of her nose. A red optic blast strikes Scott square in the chest, sending him flying across the lab and crashing into a long row of steel cabinets along the back of the room.