Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to any of Marvel's characters, or I would be rich out the wazoo.

Sidnote: Thank you so much to ulie for pointing out that I've been spelling Rogue wrong. As some of you may know, I have dyslexia and when I spell a word if all of the letters are there and the first and last one are in the right place, it's hard for me to understand that it's spelled wrong. I will try my hardest to spell it the right way from now on, so thank you for that. Please enjoy!

"She said her father wanted to kidnap her and take her to Mexico?" Scott asked me over the phone.

"That's what she said, yeah. This is so not even anything that I've been taught to deal with, we're not talking about just another student; we're talking about a girl who might have evidence that a man who has been assumed dead for two years is alive and wanting to take her away. What am I supposed to do?" I asked. I had excused myself so that I could go to my truck and call someone at the school so that I could as them what to do. Scott was the only person I could think of to call when the Professor hadn't answered his office phone.

"Okay, look, call the police and tell them what she told you, then stay with her until they get there,"

"What is she doesn't want me to call the police? I mean, this is a big deal. If I call the police without asking then she won't trust me and if I do that she can not stay here without someone to watch out for her,"

"Okay, go talk to her and ask her what she wants you to do. If she wants you to call the police then do it and stay there. If all she has are letters as proof than there shouldn't be too much for her to talk to them about, after that you get all of her stuff and bring her here with you, okay?"

I took a deep breath and watched it as I let it out into the cold air. "Yeah, okay,"

"Alright, if you need me than call me back, I'll have my cell phone with me, if you want anything,"

"Okay, thank you, bye,"

"Bye," he said before I hung up.

My day was not going how I had planned.

"Suck it up, Chloe, you've got to take care of this on your own," I thought to myself, but I was slightly nervous. I was dealing with something other than mutants; what I was dealing with could potentially put that girl, Sarah, in either more or less danger than she was already in, but I had to do it.

It didn't take too long before the police arrived once Sarah had agreed to call them. I then had to convince her that she was going to be safe at the school, which wasn't easy to do. She was scared and paranoid, but I had managed to do it.

We were sitting down on the front steps to the group home while Sarah talked to the police. She wanted me with her and I figured it was the least I could do to comfort her, when I heard a motorcycle come around the corner and pull into the parking lot. I watched as the familiar form climbed off the bike, took off his helmet and placed it on the seat. Logan began to walk closer to me, his hair looking wilder than ever.

"What are you doing here?" I asked as he stopped just a few feet away from where I was sitting.

The police officer that Sarah was speaking to looked up at him. "Is there a problem, ma'am?" he asked me.

"No, he's one of my co-workers from the school that we're taking Miss Watson to live at,"

"Summers told me what was goin' on and I thought you might need someone else down here," he said, walking up to the step below mind and the crouched down in front of me.

"Thanks," I said with a smile. We hadn't really spoken all that much since our little conversation in the hallway. "Sarah, this is my friend Logan,"

"Hi," she said bashfully.

"Hey," he said with a gentle smile as the police officer left to go confer with the other officer that had arrived with him and was inside talking to the owner of the home.

"You work at that school, too?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah, you're gonna' be alright there, don't worry about it," he said. I knew that he was comforting her but the tone of his voice even made me feel automatically safe.

Logan; a man whom you did not want to run into in a back alley somewhere, but the only man that I would feel safe with doing so.

"Do you promise?" she asked in a low voice.

Logan silently nodded his head at her. "I promise, yeah," he said, looking her right in the eyes.

"Okay, I'm ready to go then," she said, sounding, for the first time since I heard her speak, sure of what she was saying.

We packed up what few belongings she had and put them into my truck, after the police had spoken to Sarah to get all of the information from her that they needed. Then they had to call Professor Xavier to confirm that she was actually going to live at his school instead of Logan and me just being crazy kidnappers, or something.

As we drove back to the school, Logan followed closely behind us on his motorcycle. I tried to stop looking in my rear view mirror, but he was making me so nervous behind me, I couldn't help it.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Sarah asked, finally finding her voice.

"No, not quite,"

"Do you like him?"

"As more than a friend?" I asked, turning the heater up a little higher as it was still cold.

"Yeah,"

"Uh, no," I said, making a right at a stop light.

"But your heart sped up really fast when you saw him," she said.

"You could hear that?" I asked.

"Yeah, my hearing's really good,"

"Apparently. Logan and I, we have a bit of a…complicated relationship. I met him when I wasn't much older than you, but then he left and went to work at Xavier's. I didn't see him for six years and when I did, we had both changed a lot and I had grown up, so therefore, problems ensued. One bit of advice; don't ever grow up, being a kid is much more fun,"

She was quiet for a little while. "Are you ever going to tell him that you like him?" she pushed, even thought I had told her that I didn't like him.

"Probably not, because one; when you get older you lose all control of your body and find yourself blushing, or giggling, or your heart speeding up at the sight of someone, even if you don't want any of it to happen, and so I don't know that I do like him. I know that he doesn't like me. He treats me like his little sister, or something, so there would be no point in telling him something like that when I know he doesn't feel the same,"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, he likes…well, he likes all women, but I'm off in a little circle in his mind somewhere, holding a 'Do Not Enter' sign. Why?"

"It's just that I noticed when you smiled at him on the steps; his heartbeat sped up, too,"

Now it was my turn to ask; "Are you sure?"

"Well, it was already beating kind of fast anyway, but when you smiled at him it became a lot louder,"

I smiled inwardly. I made Logan's heart rate jump higher. Then it all seemed to make sense; that's why he was so jealous of Jason, that's why he had allowed me to play pool with him, why he had stayed with me while I was sick, why he had been so mad when he thought that I was engaged. I had accidentally told him that I loved him after he had personally carried me to my bedroom, then when we tried to talk about it and I got all flustered that had been why he had told me to go tell him when I had figured it out: I think Wolverine had a crush. On me.

Sarah didn't waste time getting to know everyone and at dinner that night, she had already found a table full of friends to sit with, and looked to be having a lot of fun as I passed by on my way to the staff table.

"How are you feeling?" the Professor asked me as I sat down beside him at the table to eat.

"As if you don't know?" I joked. "I'm okay, I guess, it's her that I'm worried about, though. She waiting for the other shoe to drop and she wants me to tell her that it won't,"

"You can't do that?" Rogue asked.

"No, because eventually it will," I answered.

"That's not entirely true," said Xavier. "She's waiting for her father to show up and try to take her away, that much you can assure her will not happen. But as for her whole ordeal being over with, I'm afraid you're right Chloe; it's not. If you give her very specific hope then I do believe that she will be fine. You, on the other hand, will be taking some time off until after the winter holidays. You're spending far too much time getting involved with the students right now and it's making you far too stressed,"

"I'm fine," I defended. "I just had an off day today. I knew something felt weird when I was in the parking lot and I should have called back here to get some help, I'll know better next time,"

"Chloe, we're mutants, we have heightened senses, if you felt something was wrong you shouldn't have gone in at all," he said to me.

"I know, next time I won't," I said, forcing a smile.

I finished dinner and was talking to everyone when Logan stood up to leave. I wanted to thank him for coming down to make sure that I was all right, so I followed him.

"Hey, Logan," I said, stopping him in the doorway, and then joining him where he stood.

"Yeah?"

"Thump, thump, thump," said my heart at being so close to him.

"I just wanted to say thank you for coming down there earlier today, I was a little bit nervous and it was nice to have someone down there with me," I smiled, wishing I could hear his heart instead of my very loud own.

"Well, I finished with classes early and didn't have anything to do," he said with a smirk.

Lies, all lies. Xavier told me that Logan had gone busting into his office and told him that he was taking the rest of the day off to go find me. Oh how suave he thought he was.

"I uh," I started, running my fingers back through my curly hair (Bad idea; makes it frizzy). Why was it so hard to tell people 'thank you'? "I appreciate it, whatever the reason was. I felt better with you there, so I'm glad you came," Blushingly I smiled, and then looked away.

"Chloe, I," he started.

"Oh, you two are under the mistletoe!" Scott exclaimed in mock excitement as he walked up on us and pointed to the sprig up above our heads, hanging in the archway. "Aw, now you have to kiss,"

"Uh," Logan said dumbly, looking up and swearing.

I let out a small laugh. "I swear that I didn't do this on purpose," I said, trying to cover my smile with my hand.

The look on his face was priceless.

"Well go on," Scott urged and Jean slapped his arm.

I stood up on my tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the lips, but when I tried to pull away, he pulled me closer to him, giving me an actual, proper kiss.

"Merry Christmas," I squeaked out as he let me go.

He looked down at me with a smug smile and gave me a wink. "Merry Christmas, darlin'," he said with a gruff laugh.

I moved away, blushing, completely turning red from my cheeks out to my ears. I embarrassingly walked from the doorway and went upstairs to my bedroom. Once there, I fell face down onto my bed, and very slowly did it only begin to sink in what had just happened. I kissed Logan. He kissed me. We kissed each other, and I couldn't help but let out a giddy squeal.

I meant to get up and clean my room, or wash some clothes, or even jump up and down on my bed like a giddy little girl while gleefully singing at the top of my lungs about how happy I was, but, unfortunately, I fell asleep, quite content with the day.

I rolled over in bed and when I looked out the window, I saw that it was dark and snowing out. I got up and changed from my work clothes into a pair of sweatpants and a short sleeve T-Shirt. When I realized I wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep for a while, I decided to go downstairs to the kitchen. I was having a real bad craving for hot chocolate. So, I slipped on a pair of house shoes and took the clip from my hair before heading downstairs. When I got to the kitchen door, I paused before going in; someone was already in there talking, and listening quietly, I could hear that it was one of the students and another person.

"But what if Santa doesn't know that I'm living here? What if he thinks I'm still at the orphanage?" the little girl's voice asked, and I knew that it was Kayla. She was only eight years old, one of the youngest students there.

There was a bit of a pause and I began to wonder if she was actually talking to someone else, when a rough voice came with his reply; "The way I see it, kid; it Santa's got all that magic to be flyin' all over the world in one night, he knows where he's goin'. 'Sides, I'm sure the Professor told him that you were here, I wouldn't worry about it,"

I smiled as I heard Logan trying to comfort her into believing that Santa Claus wouldn't forget her there.

When did it happen? When exactly did he go from Wolverine, violent cage fighter to Mr. Logan, comforting teacher and Santa expert? Maybe it was the girl inside of me growing up into a woman, but there was just something so sexy about the way I had seen him handling himself around the kids since moving in with him.

I heard her let out a long sigh. "Are you sure?"

"Alright listen, talk to the Professor about it tomorrow, if he hasn't told him you can write him a letter. There's enough time to get it to him before Christmas,"

She let out another dramatically long sigh. "Okay," she said.

"Alright, get up to bed; you've still got school in the mornin',"

"Okay, goodnight Mr. Logan,"

"Night," he said and a few moments later she came padding from the kitchen and passed me. I put my finger up to my mouth to indicate that I wanted to surprise Logan and not to give me away. She just grinned and waved at me before going back upstairs. I stood in the entryway quietly for a minute or two, just watching him. "You know you're not that great at sneakin' up on people?"

"Maybe I wasn't sneaking up on you," I said, leaning up against the doorway, crossing my arms and tilting my head to the side.

He looked at me from over his shoulder. "Then what are you doin'?"

"Well, I came to make hot chocolate, but after hearing that little conversation I'm beginning to wonder if Santa knows that I've moved, too," I said with a smile. He let out an aggravated half growl, half grunt. "There's really no point in putting on that He-Man act anymore, but tomorrow everyone will know your whole little Santa theory,"

"So you just came to make fun of me?"

"No, but I can't resist doing so, and since we're both here there's no point in fighting it," I smiled, walking over to the oven. "Do you want some coco?"

"No,"

"Are you sure, I make some good hot chocolate," I said, holding up the box of coco and shaking my hips jokingly.

He smiled at me, shook his head and took a sip of his Dr. Pepper. "I'm fine," he said.

"Alright," I said and then went to work making me some on the stove. I could feel him watching me while I was mixing it and looked over at him and smiled, tucking the loose hair around my face behind me ears. My seemingly almost ever-present blush pinched my cheeks once again as he just stared at me, leaving me to wonder what he was thinking about. "Are you not freezing?" I asked, trying to ease the tension.

"No," he answered simply.

"I don't see how to can wear those things during the winter," I said, noting his light gray A-Shirt.

"I don't usually wear anything at this time of night," he smirked.

"Thank you for that, I'm sure it'll come in real handy when the next person stops me in the hall to ask what you sleep in," I said sarcastically, finally coaxing a grin from him.

He ran his hand through the back of his hair. "That subject comes up a lot with you, too?"

I rolled my eyes at him and did my best not to crack up. "The good thing about you being so egotistical, I guess, is that no one ever has to remind you that you're attractive; you do that on your own,"

"You think I'm attractive?" he asked slyly.

I covered my mouth in mock shook with one of my hands, while continuing to stir my warming chocolate with the other. "As if you didn't already know that," I said in a sarcastic tone. "I think most woman who said that they didn't find you attractive would be lying,"

"That's not what I asked," he said, staring at me with a fierce gaze.

My pulse raced and I had to look away from him, afraid that my knees would buckle and give out on my. I swallowed hard, deepening my already pink blush. "Yes," I choked out.

"What?" he asked, even though I knew that he heard my perfectly well. What a jerk.

"I said 'no', sorry; you just don't do it for me," I lied. He let out a small, half laugh. "Well, about you, do you think I'm attractive?"

"That should shut him up," I thought. "Let's see if he laughs anymore,"

"Yeah," he said, then took a sip from his Dr. Pepper bottle and didn't say anything else.

"No, you can't just leave it at that! Divulge, tell me what you think is attractive about me! Ah!" My mind screamed, but I was determined to remain calm.

"Okay, I do think that you're attractive, just don't puff up on me; it's not really a surprise or anything," I admitted, giving in.

We didn't say anything else to each other as I finished my hot chocolate, poured it into a cup and sat down on one of the stools across from Logan at the island in the middle of the kitchen. We sat quietly for a few minutes.

"Why did you tell me that you were engaged when you told him no?" he asked, filling the silence with his deep, rough voice.

"I didn't actually tell you that I was engaged; I said that he proposed to me and you assumed that I was engaged. I just got too mad at you to tell you the truth, so I let you think that,"

"Why did you really not want to merry him?"

I paused for a moment, holding my cup up to my mouth. I could feel the heat rising from it, rolling right into my face. "Have you ever heard of Conway Twitty?" I asked.

He stared at me in confusing. "His real name is Conway Twitty?"

"No, he's a singer, never mind. The point is, he has a song called 'Hello Darlin',"

"So?" he asked, still confused.

"So, the song was playing when he asked me to merry him and when I heard it I remembered what you were telling me about being smart, and pretty and that I was your darlin', or whatever. Anyway, it just reminded me that I didn't have to say yes. I could find someone who loved me, not the non-mutant Chloe, but the real me, because you do. I just have to find someone that I love who loves me like that," I said and then laughed weakly. "Although it may not be impossible, that's still going to be a challenge,"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why is that a challenge?"

"Don't. You know me; you know that three years of therapy can't erase what's been done to me over my life. Everyone I know leaves; they die, they go away, they give me away. I don't trust people because they let me down, not just one or two, everyone. No one wants to merry someone who doesn't trust them, and if they did, I wouldn't want to merry them because they, obviously, wouldn't trust me. The thing that gets me though, is I don't trust myself. What if I get blinded by all of their lies and everything that they tell me? I don't want to end up like my mother; she married two murderers, and we both paid for it. I…I, uh…crap, why do you always make me cry?" I asked with a laugh, wiping away tears from my fire hot cheeks. "Maybe I'm just not meant to have someone love me; maybe I don't deserve it,"

"Why don't you deserve it?"

"Maybe you're supposed to earn stuff like that. I don't know, I mean, what if I've never done anything that merits having people love me?"

"Then they've screwed up somewhere,"

"How's that?"

"Because whether you're supposed to earn it, or if you have or not, it doesn't matter; I love you, kid, and I ain't gonna' leave you again,"

Tears rolled down my face faster than I could wipe them away. "I love you, too," I wept.

"Well, I don't think I deserve it,"

"You do, though,"

"And you deserve more than that guy could give you,"

"Why?"

"Chloe, you've earned everything good that you get,"

"How?"

"Do you forgive me for leavin' you, for what that man did to your mother, to what your father did to you?"

"Yes," I said, still crying.

"Then that's how you've earned it; people do something to you and you forgive them because you know people screw up. You're too smart to think that you've done anything wrong to be punished so that people can't love you. What had you done that would even make you think that?" he asked, getting passionately riled up with the conversation.

"I don't know, I'm not exactly a saint, Logan, I've done some bad things before,"

"Do you love me?" he asked, his eyes wide and staring right at me.

"What?" I asked confused. Hadn't I just told him that I did?

"Do you love me?" he repeated.

"Yes," I answered.

"I've killed people before Chloe; I've watched people die because of me,"

"But you were just protecting yourself, though,"

"You can justify it for whatever reason, but I did it. Have you ever killed anyone before?"

"No,"

"Then what have you done that makes you believe that you shouldn't have everything that you want?"

"I don't know,"

"Then it's not true,"

"So why does everyone leave me? Why is it that every time I find someone who cares about me and I care about them, something bad happens, why does it happen to me?"

"I don't know,"

"I can't…if anything happens to you, or anyone else, I couldn't take it. I love this place and everyone here,"

"Even Marie?" he asked with a light smirk, interrupting me.

I let out a laugh. "Yeah, even Rogue. I love you all and if something were to happen, I don't know what I would do. This is my home, my job. Everything that I love is here, nothing bad can happen to me now or I will just…lose it,"

"Nothing's gonna' happen to you while I'm here, and I told you; I'm not leavin' you again,"

"Thank you," I said.

The words could not express my feelings, but he knew I meant them. Though the words could not express my feelings, my feelings also couldn't be expressed in words, so I didn't try. I just sat there crying. He didn't try to comfort me, and I was glad. I was feeling so many things at once I didn't know what to do, so I just stayed there, crying from being so happy. Emotional Breakthrough; take that Dr. Vandershow, my emotions were not stunted, it's just that no one tested them quite like Logan, who made me feel a hundred things at once, almost every time we spoke. Some times it was anger, sadness, but most of the time, Logan made me happy and feel good about myself, something that no one else had done, not because I was a hard person to crack, but because no one had cared enough to try.

At first, Logan probably comes off as a harsh, rough man, but he wasn't all that bad. His problem was that he was so passionate about what he felt that it could come off as a bit intimidating. I mean, I'm not saying that Wolverine is a big, soft teddy bear inside who enjoys watching figure skating over hockey or would be caught dead wearing a suit anywhere. It's just that when you get right down to it, he's a broken man and the reason he comes off as mean is because his edges are a little rough and sharp and tend to cut without meaning to. Like a broken mirror, when you look at Logan you don't see a whole image, you see dozens of them, distracting you from ever concentrating on just one, so that you can't ever know what you're supposed to be seeing. But if someone tells you what to focus on, you can see him, a man who feels responsible for a lot of things that were out of his hands when they happened. I loved him more than anyone I had ever consciously loved. I just wasn't sure how far it reached out, what line, if any, of which it stopped outside. I didn't care; I didn't want to spend my time wondering about and trying to figure out how I felt about him. I just wanted to let it happen.

"Do you like 'The Three Stooges'?" I asked.

"Yeah," he answered suspiciously.

"I got a really fantastic Secret Santa gift today; do you want to watch them with me?"

He slowly nodded his head at me. "Yeah,"

We spent the next two hours watching some of the movies together and when it reached three-thirty in the morning, we decided to go to bed since he had to teach in less than five hours. So he walked me to my room and let me hug him before going to bed.

"Goodnight, darlin',"

"Thank you," I said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight," I smiled and then went into my room.

I found that I could sleep much better when I was in a good mood and I was looking forward to the next day without any work. Perhaps Logan would need an assistant for his classes, I wondered, or maybe I might even help Scott out with the girls if the heating was still out in the garage.

Have you ever had one of those moments where you're drifting off to sleep and you have a thought and it makes so much sense at the time but when you think about it later, you don't even know where it came from? That's what was happening to me as I was going to sleep. I was thinking about how it would be to merry Logan. I don't know if it was a thought or a dream but I could see the wedding and it was a very odd one. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt and I was wearing a dress and cowboy boots, but everyone else was all dressed up. It was a beautiful wedding with everyone from the school there, but the part that didn't make any sense was that my mother was there, beaming at us.

Then she said something to me; "Being brave doesn't mean being un-afraid, being brave means knowing your fears and not letting them get in your way. Don't let being scared keep you from loving the people around you, because they care about you so much. Sometimes loving people can hurt, because they can leave you, but the pain of losing someone you love is nowhere near as bad as never loving someone you lose. I'm right here baby, you're going to be okay,"

That's when I woke up. It was morning and I had a new perspective in mind. To a certain degree, I had been eluding all of my co-workers, trying to force myself to see them as jus that; co-workers, when the truth was that I wanted them to be my family, and because I had been so stupid I hadn't seen that they had already accepted me into theirs.

I hadn't dreamt of my mother in such a long time, I had nearly forgotten what she looked like, and as the images of my vivid dream faded away to the back of my mind, I tried to hold on, but there was no way I could. Instead, she was stolen from my thoughts and replaced with the thought of Logan and I being married. It probably wouldn't work out too well, but just imagine how cute our kids would be.

"Are you just here to watch or are you gonna' help me?"

"I think I'm just going to sit back and watch you," I smiled. Logan was in the garage that next afternoon working on his car. "You missed lunch,"

"I wasn't hungry,"

"That's unusual," I said, propping my chin up in the palm of my hand. "You usually eat as much as I do,"

"I'm on a diet," he joked, leaning up from under the hood to give me a wink.

"What's wrong with it?" I asked.

He scratched the back of his head with his greasy hand and stared in at the motor. "It's the transmission,"

"Can you fix it?"

"Yeah,"

"Are you not freezing out here?"

"No,"

"Does that mean that you are?"

"What?"

"I asked if you were not freezing, you said no, so that means that you are," I grinned.

"I'm not," he said, his top half disappearing back under the hood of his car.

"Are you going to say anything to me that involves more than three words?"

I heard a gruff laugh break from his body. "Not right now; I'm workin',"

"Well there's five right there," I said. "What do you want me to do to help you?"

"Nothing right now,"

"Do you enjoy working on cars, or do you just do it because you have to?"

"It like it, it's a man thing,"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that men like to work on cars,"

"And woman down?"

"No, don't start any of that liberal woman crap with me right now,"

"Excuse me Logan, but I don't think that enjoying working on cars makes anyone liberal,"

"Do you like working on your truck?"

"No, I always get sweaty and greasy, it's gross," I said.

"Alright, now leave me alone about it,"

"You're so hostile,"

"And you're annoying me right now,"

"You love it when I annoy you, I know you do, don't deny it,"

He slammed down the hood of his car. "Throw me that rag," he said, pointing to the grease stained rag in the chair beside me.

"Are you done?"

"No," he said, catching the rag and wiping off his hands.

"Then why are you quitting?"

"'Cause I want you outta' here," he said with a smug smirk.

"You think that you can just run me out of here that easily?"

"Yeah," he said, going towards the door, which led back into the school.

"Okay," I shrugged, standing up beside him. He slung his arm around my shoulder. "Don't get grease on my shirt," I joked and I could feel his laugh rattle through him. I loved the way he laughed; there was someone so comforting about it. I remember that when I had first met him I thought that his smile was a rare occurrence to bask in, which I still felt, but being able to make him laugh; I could devote my whole life to that cause and never be un-happy with the results.

"He did not get you in the garage before I did," Scott said, stopping us in the hall.

"Face it Summers; she likes me better," Logan said, leaving for his room to, presumably, take a shower.

"I wasn't actually doing anything, I was just kind of watching," I said sheepishly.

"Really, then how did you get grease on your shirt?" he asked, pointing to the spot where Logan had had his hand slung across my shoulder, leaving a small grease spot on my pink shirt.

"Gross, I told him not to mess up my shirt, that is so not going to come out,"

"Yeah, sure, it's all his fault," he teased.

"Leave me alone," I said as he turned to walk away.

"Oh, the Professor wanted to know if you wanted to help out with the kids caroling tonight or you wanted to stay here and keep an eye on the house and the kids who are staying here,"

"Well, I've never been one for caroling, I always get off key and then start complaining about how cold it is, so I think I'll just stay here,"

"I thought you might,"

"And why is that again?" I asked with a curious smile.

"Logan's staying here, too," he said, looking smug.

"Well, maybe I will go, then," I said.

"Oh yeah, because you just hate to be here with Logan by yourself," he said sarcastically.

"You know, I really don't like you as much as I thought I did," I lied.

He just smiled at me and kept walking, striking up a chorus of 'Jingle Bells' on his way down the hall. I shook my head and laughed; it was the worst version of 'Jingle Bells' I had ever heard.

I walked through the school, looking at all of the Christmas decorations, taking it all in. I had never had a proper Christmas before, no matter where I was living, no one want went all out the way the Professor had. Right after Thanksgiving all of the staff, and most of the students, had all helped with hanging everything up. I helped Jean hang the Christmas lights on two of the trees in the living room, Scott hand most of the mistletoe in the school, and even personally hung the one under which Logan and I had been caught. However, I enjoyed hanging the ornaments the most, because that's when the Professor had given me one of my own to hang, and then I nearly cried.

I had always been emotionally attached to Christmas, as it was my mother's favorite holiday. We would always go out two weeks before and buy a real tree to put up in the living room, none of that fake tree deal so many people do. Even though the trees at the school weren't real, I thought they were nice. But we would bake cookies, sing Christmas carols, go shopping and we would always, always, always watch the 'How The Grinch Stole Christmas' cartoon together. Oh how I missed her.

"Didn't feel like goin' out and singin'?" Logan asked me later that night as I was sitting in the living room watching TV.

"I thought that since I was so good at singing, I'd stay here instead of going out and making all of the kids look bad," I said sarcastically. "Actually, I just didn't feel like getting out in the weather tonight,"

He sat down on the couch beside me. "You lived in Canada for how long and you don't like the weather here?"

"I'm a wimp, I get cold easily," I said.

"What are we watching?"

"We are going to watch 'How The Grinch Stole Christmas',"

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I love that movie,"

"I hate it, why can't we watch the hockey game?"

"Because I was in here first so I get to decide what we watch. Besides, I don't understand the point of hockey; it's just a bunch of grown men figure skating and whacking each other with sticks,"

"That is the point, and they're not figure skating,"

"Whatever, I still don't get it,"

"And I don't get why you want to watch a cartoon,"

"It's not just a cartoon, it's a holiday classic," I corrected him as the show began.

He grunted in discontent, but stayed seating beside me, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "What is he?" he asked as they showed the first shot of the Grinch.

"He's a Grinch,"

"What is that, though?"

"It's a fictionalized species of Who, I guess,"

"What's a Who?"

"They're little people who live inside snowflakes, they're just Whos,"

"Who's on first?" he asked, smirking at me.

"What's on second," I replied.

"I don't know's on third,"

"Abbott and Costello, funny guys,"

"You're taste ain't all that bad, even if you do watch cartoons," he said with a wink.

We were both quiet for a few more minutes as we watched the TV together. "What are you thinking about right now?" I asked, looking at him.

"How stupid this show is,"

A small smile spread across my face. "I'm serious," I said, pulling my legs up on the cough and curling up as I watched him.

He looked over at me as the show went on commercial. "I'm thinkin' about how bad I need a beer right now," he said, ruffling the back of his hair with his hand. I rolled my eyes at him. "So what are you thinkin' about then?"

"My mother," I sighed, propping my chin on my knee. "She liked Christmas,"

"Why did you want to live with me?" he asked after a small pause.

"I felt like you understood me. Maybe I knew deep down that you were a mutant, too, and that's why I felt so close to you, I don't know, but I thought it might have been fun; just you and me, going all over Canada while you would fight. You were the only father figure that I really had,"

"What did your father do, why didn't you want to live with him?" he asked.

"He killed a little boy," I said, taking a slow breath. "He was only fourteen and he lived next door to us," I started crying as I remembered the grotesque details in which the judge had described what had happened so many years before, scaring me mentally ever since. "He didn't do anything, he was just a little kid, but he didn't care, he killed him because he was a mutant. Why do they do that, why do they hate us?"

He pulled me to him, allowing me to burry my tear streaked face in the crook of his neck. "I don't know why they hate us, but that's not our problem, it's theirs. There's nothing wrong with us; it's them. Don't let them get to you kid, that's how they win," he said, holding me.

I inhaled him deeply; he may have said he needed a beer, but he smelled of Jack Daniels and cigar smoke. I had never felt as safe as I did in his arms as he stroked my hair, calming me and I never wanted to me, because he was my constant, my rock, my support. I never loved him more than I did that night.