Disclaimer: Same stuff, I own nothing...really. Well, I do own a sock-monkey but he was made backwards so he's a little shy and doesn't really count all that much. Enjoy.

Sidenote: There are some random lyrics that I'm sticking in here for enjoyment and whoever finds them first gets a prize...well, not really. I've just written up some that I feel goes with the story. As you may be able to tell I'm a bit of a music freak and all of my stories sort of revolve around music and certain songs. Not unlike this one. So yes, the long bits of text in italics are song lyrics.

"Are you sure you want out in this weather?" he asked after we were driving, the bar out of sight.

"I'll be fine," I said pulling down the visor to look at my face. "Do you have a light in here?" I watched as he reached up with his right hand and switched over a button, turning on the overhead light. I winced, as I looked at myself in the dirty mirror. My lip was swollen and busted in the corner and it looked as if my left eye was going to be black for a day or so. There was a red imprint of a hand still on my face. I felt around, making sure that none of the bones in my face were broken, the pain resurfaced as I felt around the already bruising area. He looked over at me and saw my injured face. He slowed down the truck and pulled over to the side of the road.

"Let me look at your face," he said.

"No, I'm fine," I said quickly, flipping the visor back up. "You can keep going." He grabbed my face, holding the back of my head with one of his hands and my chin with his other one, titling it back so that he could get a better look. I pulled away from him.

"I'm not gonna' hurt you, I just want to see if anything's broken,"

"I know," I said, "sorry." I let him look at my face and make sure everything was okay, but before lone my mind wandered to his hands.

"Here, put this on your eye," he said, reaching into a cooler and pulling out a can of beer. He flipped off the light as I slowly eased it onto my eye and felt immediate relief. I let out a long sigh and relaxed back into my seat as he began driving again.

"What about your hands, don't you need some help for them?" I asked.

"No," he said shortly.

"But I saw those blades, they were big. If you want, I can help?"

"They're fine,"

"Can you at least let me look at them? I mean, I let you look at my eye,"

"Here, look," he growled at me, shoving his right hand in front of my face. I pulled the can from my eye and squinted in the dark, trying to focus on his hand, but I couldn't see any sign of wounds.

"But…I saw blades, metal claws, come out of your hands…how is that possible?" I asked, confused. Had I just thought I had seen it? I began to worry about my sanity as I heard him sigh in frustration.

"You did see them, but they healed," he muttered, lighting up a cigar, sticking it between his teeth and slowly taking a puff.

It finally struck me; "That's your mutation, you heal fast?"

"Yeah, put the can back on your eye,"

We had been driving for around thirty to forty-five minutes in silence when I finally said; "I'm Jewel,"

"Logan," he replied.

"Can I ask why you helped me out back there in the bar? It really wasn't your problem,"

"Because I know what they do to us,"

"What do you mean 'us'?" I asked, taking the no longer cold can away from my eye and looking at him. He looked at me briefly.

"Mutants,"

"But how did you know I was mutant?"

He made a small laugh. "Even the piss-drunk guy knew you were a mutant, kid, I saw your hand disappear when he hit you,"

"So that's why you stopped him?"

"I was getting ready to stop him before that; even I don't like watching woman getting smacked around,"

"Well, thank you…" I said as my stomach growled and I realized that I hadn't eaten since that morning.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

I was strongly suspicious of his concern, even if I was a mutant he didn't seem like the kind of person who would just pick up a strange girl in a bar, help her out and offer her food, at least not without something to pay him back.

"No, I'm fine," I lied and then changed my mind. "Actually, yeah, if you have anything besides Roman noodles then I might be in love with you,"

He laughed again, "Yeah, there's some hamburgers in that cooler right there," he said, pointing to the cooler behind my seat. I reached behind me and pulled it into my lap. I lifted the lid to see three, still wrapped, hamburgers. I pulled one out, sat the box in the floor beside my feet, and stuffed myself with one hamburger after another, after another. He found me a Coke and I downed it as well, throwing all of my manners away.

"Thank you," I said once I was finished eating.

"So, what's with the fake British accent?" he asked.

"I beg your pardon?" I asked. How did he know it was fake, most people thought I did a wonderful English accent.

"Why are you talking like that?"

"This is how I always talk,"

"Really?"

"Yes," I said quietly, a little disappointed that he did not believe me.

"Who are you running from?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean; who are you running from? Why are you out here all by yourself?"

"There were some things at home that couldn't be taken care of and I had to get away from,"

"And where is 'home'?" he asked.

"Arizona," I said without thinking, "I mean…London,"

"So Arizona, huh? That's a long way to run just because you were having some problems. Why did you have to leave the country?"

"All right, you caught me, I'm not from England," I finally admitted, allowing myself to speak in my own accent. "I heard my father talking about…rules and I knew that I couldn't obey them, so I left."

"How long have you been gone?"

"Nearly two weeks,"

"Hm…" he said.

"What?" I asked.

"Just thinking about how much of a coincidence it is that you run away around the same time that the President's daughter is missing," he said to me with a sideways smirk.

My heart sped up; was he going to tell on me? Was he going to trade me in for a reward? What if he was secret service?

"You can't tell, please," I begged.

"Give me a good reason not to tell," he said to me, "because right now you don't seem to have anywhere to go and get in trouble where you do."

"I'll give you two hundred dollars, cash; just don't turn me in,"

"I've got money, kid, give me a reason."

"My father doesn't understand, he doesn't know that I'm…a mutant."

"So?"

"So, you said it; you 'know what they do to us', my father is being pressured by senators to pass a mutant registration law, if I tell him about me then everyone in the world will know."

"And if you don't he'll pass the law,"

"But if I do then he could lose his job and the law will still be passed. My father doesn't want to pass it, but he might,"

"So how does your running away help that?"

"I know him; with me gone he'll focus only on the really big things. The 'mutant crisis' will be left to a state by state law, which will fail because if the President's not behind it there's more of a likelihood that other people won't vote to pass it,"

"So, you're the only person who could stop it from happening and you runaway?"

"I told you; I couldn't stop it from happening, that's why I ran away, that's why I'm in Canada."

"All right…good enough reason," he said, turning off the windshield wipers since the rain had stopped. "Put another can on your eye, it'll keep the swelling down."

I did as he said. "Where are we going?" I asked.

"New York,"

"Oh, can you let me out before you cross the boarder?"

"No, you're going with me,"

"What? No, I'm not going back into the states. No offense, but all I needed was a ride."

"Look kid, I know a guy who has a school for people like us, he can help you."

"A school for mutants? In New York? My father would have known about this, I'm sorry," I said with a bemused laugh, holding the can firmly against my face.

"Obviously he doesn't know everything. It's safe there, so you don't have to worry about anyone finding you."

I didn't know if he was telling the truth of not, but it sounded nice.

"Alright, fine,"

At least I knew why he had taken me with him, and he didn't seem as dangerous as I thought he was at first. So I didn't feel too terribly unsafe as I fell asleep leaning against the window, listening to the soft hum of the truck engine.

I woke slowly as the sun poured into the truck, across my face and into my eyes. I pulled my sunglasses from my purse but found that they laid across the bruising of my face and hurt too much to wear. Logan didn't say anything to me as I moved around; looking for my bags to make sure everything was still with me. I quickly glanced at the clock; it was a little past seven in the morning. I pulled down the visor to check on the status of my face; my bottom lip was a little swollen to the left side and my eye had a bruise around it, but it wasn't swollen, I just looked like crap.

"Where are we?" I asked, folding the mirror up but leaving the visor to block out the sun.

"Westchester," he replied, giving me a quick glance, "we should be at the school soon."

It was a beautiful morning and I found it somewhat therapeutic to be sharing it with my stranger. He had rescued me, knew my secret and had agreed not to tell, but most strongly; he was a mutant. I had never actually met another mutant before, but to know that there was one, if not more, who was like me and didn't want to hurt people with their powers was an overwhelming feeling, quite the opposite of loneliness.

"So what's the name of this guy you know that owns the school?"

"Professor Xavier,"

"And he doesn't mind you just picking up random mutants in a bar and bringing them back to his school?"

"No,"

"Are you sure?"

"He doesn't care, kid, that's what it's for,"

"To bring in battered mutants?"

"To give a home to runaways. He can help you with your powers, too,"

"I don't need any help with my powers; I know how to use them,"

"You don't know how to control them,"

"And how would you know that?"

"Because when you got scared your hand disappeared, that doesn't sound like control,"

"Well I'm not exactly used to being hit; I had people who could take care of that for me,"

"Not anymore,"

"Thank you for that keen observation, I sort of realized that last night," I said sarcastically.

"It took you that long?" he asked with a cocky grin, proud of himself for winning the argument.

The sun shone on us as we pulled off the main road onto a private drive, driving up the path until a huge mansion was sitting right in front of us. He parked to the side of the house and carried my bags for me. I followed him to the front of the massive house as he opened the door and walked it. It was oddly quiet and I began to wonder if anyone actually lived there or if I was traveling with a sociopath when I saw a man in an electric wheelchair emerge from a room.

"Hello Logan," he said, rolling up to us, "how was your trip?"

"Fine," he said, "Professor this is-"

"Holly," he smiled, "or do you prefer to be called Jewel?"

"How did you know my name?" I asked.

"He's a telepath," Logan answered. I wasn't positive but I was fairly sure that a telepath was someone who could not only read minds but also project thoughts into other peoples minds, as well. And if what he said was true that he also knew my situation.

"Your secret is safe with us," he said to me, smiling with his eyes.

"Thank you,"

"I'm sorry, you must be very tired. Logan would you please show her to a room, you'll find yours is still empty," he said as he began rolling away, "I'm afraid I have to go, classes start soon."

"Come on, follow me," Logan said as he started walking towards a flight of stairs. I followed him to the top where we took an elevator to the next floor. He then led me down a hall and opened the door to a room. "This is yours, it's right beside mine if you need me."

I nodded to show that I understood, but I was feeling incredibly awkward. For the first time since I had seen him earlier the day before, I studied him. His hair looked animal-esque and his eyes were something else completely. They were a beautiful hazel color and held so much in them. Pain and anger, he also looked tired, both emotionally and physically, I assumed. He had been driving all night and I didn't know how long he had been awake before that. I was shocked at my near immediate lust to know the man more intimately. I wanted to know his life story; I wanted to hold him in my arms as he told me of his problems that he insisted on spending five plus hours, and probably more if I hadn't started a fight, trying to drink away. I had been sheltered all of my life and I found myself that standing there, beside that animal man, was filling me with the oddest feelings I had ever had. I had known him for, maybe, ten hours but felt a connection to him. One that I had never felt with another person. After realizing that I was staring at him and not saying anything, I blushed and turned my head away.

"Sorry," I said, tucking my hair behind my ear. "I get weird when I'm sleepy and zone out a little,"

"How's your eye feeling?" he asked.

"Not too bad, I mean it hurts but I think those cans helped quite a bit. I'm very lucky someone like you knew about that," I said with a smile.

"Someone like me?" he asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Well you wouldn't need it, would you? You would just heal, right? I was very fortunate for me that you knew that trick,"

He nodded his head slowly, "What about your lip, how bad is it?" I turned my head so that he could look at it.

"It's not terrible; I think I was pretty lucky he was drunk and didn't hit me harder."

"I wouldn't have let him hit you any harder," he said.

A small smile spread across my mouth. "Well, maybe I was lucky you were there, then."

"I don't think luck had anything to do with it, darlin',"

I turned my head back and looked into his eyes. "Whatever it was, I'm just glad that you were there."

You know I love your type; you look like you've

Been up all night, and some how still look

Beautiful, you do it all at the same time.

Whenever I walk by, you always look me in the

Eye, in that moment I know the same thing's on

Your mind.

"Holly, wake up, come on, you need to get up and eat something," I heard as a slow buzz of noise became more clear.

"What?" I asked groggily, pulling my face away from my pillow. I saw a dark woman with snow-white hair sitting beside my bed.

"Would you like you come eat breakfast?" she asked kindly.

"Where am I?" I asked, confused.

"You're at Professor Xavier's school for mutants, Logan brought you here." Everything rushed back to me in a sudden flood of memories.

"Oh right, how long have I been asleep, a few hours?" I asked, sitting up in my new bed.

"No, you've been asleep since yesterday morning. Logan asked me to come check on you."

"I've been asleep since yesterday?"

"Yes," she said, suddenly spotting the fading bruises on my face. "Did Logan…do this?"

"No," I said defensively, "he stopped the guy who did, though."

"Well, would you like to come down and join everyone for breakfast?"

"Is Logan there?" I asked. He was the only one I knew.

"Yes,"

"Then yeah," I said, nodding my head and then asking; "Why did you call me Holly?"

"Oh, the Professor…I can call you Jewel if you want? I didn't know,"

"No, I'm just confused is all," I said with a forced smile.

"All right, I'll leave you to get ready, do you know where the dining room is?" she asked. I shook my head no. "After you go down stairs, when you get to the front door, go to your right and it's the second door to your left. If you can't remember just listen for us, the kids should be talking loud enough for you to hear them."

"Thank you," I said with a short, small smile. She smiled back and left my room, shutting the door behind her. I moved from my bed and dug through my bag, trying to find clean clothes. 'Check if they have a laundry room,' I thought to myself as I sifted through my clothes. I rushed through a shower, tried to cover my bruises as well as I could with makeup and soon found myself at the bottom of the stairs, in front of the front door. Following the woman's directions, I was soon standing in the doorway of a large dining room. In a room full of strangers, I quickly searched for the one person I knew, only to fail in finding him at any of the tables.

"Lookin' for me, kid?" I heard a rough voice growl from behind me. I spun around on my heels, nearly losing my balance. He reached out his arms to catch me and I saw him smile.

"Thanks," I said, regaining my composer and smiling. "Yeah, I was actually. I don't know anyone here, so is it alright if I sit with you?"

"Yeah, c'mon," he said, leading me back to a table where I recognized Professor Xavier and the white-headed woman. There was also another man sitting, who had on a pair of red shaded sunglasses.

"Good morning Holly, how are you?" the Professor asked.

"I'm good, thank you," I said with a smile. Answering everything with a smile had become natural to me after years of my father being a politician. I always had to be on my best behavior and seem happy and friendly. I had to smile even if I didn't feel like it.

"I apologize, this is Scott Summers, also known as Cyclops, and Ororo Monroe, also known as Storm, I do believe the two of you have met already, though," Professor Xavier said to me.

"Yes sir," I said, "it's nice to meet you." I told Scott as we shook hands.

"You too, Holly," he said with an unenthusiastic smile.

"Do all of the students…do they know who I am?" I asked.

"No, I don't believe so," the Professor answered me.

"Then would it be alright if ya'll call me Jewel, instead? I sort of just want to fade out and blend in as much as possible while I'm here, if that's okay?"

"That's fine," Storm answered.

"And you're welcome to stay here as long as you like, I believe that you will soon find out that you're not alone anymore," Professor Xavier said with a warm smile. "Although I must be going, I need to prepare for classes."

"Yeah, I'm done, too," Scott said as I watched him glower, as much as he could from underneath his glasses, at Logan and I knew that there wasn't a good relationship between them.

"Well…I suppose I should too, then," Storm said, standing. They soon left the table to just Logan and me. I sat down and began piling food onto a plate. Logan sat across from me, doing the same.

"So, how long have you been…here?" I asked, not sure whether he worked or just lived there.

"Almost a year," he said as he tore into a piece of bacon.

"And you like it?"

"Yeah,"

"Good," I said. We both sat in silence while we ate, until a girl not much younger than I, if at all, came up to our table.

"Hi Logan," she said. She had a thick Southern accent. She had long brown hair, just lighter than my own and two distinctive white strips in the front that didn't look like she had dyed them, but were like that on their own.

"Hey kid, how are you doin'?" he asked her.

"All right, did you have fun on your trip?"

"Yeah, it was okay," he said with a slight smile. "Where's Bobby?"

"Oh, we're uh…taking a break…from each other, just for now, though."

"Are you fine with that?"

"It's alright, I guess,"

"Do you want me to go talk to him for you?"

She smiled, "No it's fine,"

"Okay," he said nodding. "Oh this is uh…Jewel,"

"Hi, I'm Rouge," she said to me, shaking my hand with a gloved hand of her own.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you," I said.

"You too," she said with a smile. "Well, I gotta' go to class, it was nice to meet you, though. I'll see you later, Logan,"

"Alright kid, bye," Logan said with a short smile.

"Bye!" she said to me.

"It was nice meeting you, bye," I replied as she walked from our table and left the room. I watched quietly as Logan finished eating his breakfast. "How do you know her, just from living here?"

"I met her at a bar up in Canada last year; she hid in the back of my old truck so she could get a ride."

"So do you make habits of picking up young girls in bars in other countries, or is there just something special about Canada that makes you do it?"

I saw him smile a little. "Must be Canada," he said.