A soft breeze came through the beautiful city of Rome that early summer's day. One of the older apartments by the river on the fifth floor had its balcony door open, letting in the warm air and the sounds of the hustle and bustle in all of Italy.
Inside, a young woman was sitting in a cozy chair, reading the newspaper. Her olive skin glowed as she wore a teal summer dress matching her bright eyes. She scratched her head, messing up her short, wavy black hair only slightly.
Hearing humming from the kitchen, she spoke out, "There was another mutant threat yesterday; at the Statue of Liberty in New York."
An old, tall but fat man with a white work suit on and tan slacks loosened his orange tie as he cooked their dinner, "Oh really? What damage was done and were they arrested?"
"Not exactly. It says here that a great white light of some sort of bomb was about to strike thousands of people nearby, but it stopped before anyone was hurt. Except for a few policemen at the Statue, no one was found."
"Do you imagine it's that Magneto fella?" the old man said in a thick Italian accent.
The woman chuckled, "Probably, but I don't think he's as big of an influence on New York as the 'Godfather Bianchi'. You made the front page Pop."
She stood and took the paper over to the old man. He glanced at his picture, surrounded by his guards as he left a building in one of his Rolls Royce.
"I just had a misunderstanding with old Lombardi Scooby Doo; there is no evidence to be found. We're safe."
"Oh really? That's why you moved out here three weeks ago; just for the change of scenery; not cause your scared Pop?" the woman raised one of her eyebrows knowingly.
"Ey! I'm Leonardo Bianchi; I ain't scared of nobody; least of all Lombardi's little family. They got nothin' on me."
The woman started on the spaghetti and sighed, "Pop, you know I love you, but you need to retire; this life isn't for an old man like you. You should be sailing or going fishing with your other old buddies. You know, like a real person!"
"When have I ever been a real normal person? Your mother isn't even a normal person!"
She narrowed her eyes, "You know, that's what you told me when I asked why you two got a divorce when I was twelve!"
She went back to fixing the spaghetti while her father worked on the sauce. She sighed, and he looked at her guiltily. Then, he said, "That was a hard time for all of us Scooby Doo. But, it just wasn't workin'. Your ma and I were goin' in different directions. She taught art in Seattle Washington while I did well, what I do in New York. At least goin' up, you got to travel a lot. Summers in Manhattan with your old man, winters in Seattle with the ice queen."
"DAD!" the young lady exclaimed.
He chuckled, "Ya ya, she's been a wonderful mother. Look how perfect you turned out."
He rubbed her chin with his hand, "You know, you look just like your grandma on the first day she left her home in Tuscany to live in Rome. Just beautiful!"
As though he never uttered the compliment, the woman realized, "That's right! You promised me that you'd take me to the Sistine Chapel!"
Smiling, he stirred the sauce, "We will go, tomorrow though. My men are coming that morning because they don't believe I'm safe out here. They think I can't be by myself. Ha! I got you, don't I?"
Concerned, she admitted, "I won't be around here all the time, Pop. I'm gonna be going on my round the world trip, remember? Anyways, I think it's a good idea that they come; I don't want anything to happen to you."
But the old man smiled still, saying, "Scooby Doo, if anythin' does happen to me that you can't control, it's okay. It will just be my time; I promise I'll be fine."
She sighed, "Whatever you say Pop. Now, you mentioned that there was a secret ingredient to this sauce of yours?"
The old man hit himself in the head, "Oh the secret ingredient! I forgot to pick it up this morning! Oh well, I guess I'll just have to go back down to the market to get it!"
He put on his tan jacket and headed for the door. However, the woman in the teal dress jumped in front of him and put her hand out, "Stop! Out of all my experience; that had to be the worst fake excuse I've ever heard done. What are you up to old man?"
Offended at this, he held his hands back in defense, "Honest, I don't have the ingredient. I have to go get it; if there happens to be a florist on the way home, then I can't help it!"
The lady smiled as he kissed her on the cheek and put on his tan hat. He opened the door and left her in the apartment to tend to the pasta.
A block away, old Bianchi was at the market buying the secret ingredient. On his way back, he went to the florists and bought a bouquet of pink and white peony flowers. After he paid the man, he walked past a few old abandoned apartment complexes.
Just as he did, a black Rolls Royce pulled up next to him on the street. Just as he turned his head, he knew.
Up in the old apartment, the young woman had seated herself by the balcony again, this time picking up a copy of Anthem. Another cool breeze fell softly into the room, and she closed her eyes peacefully.
All of a sudden, she heard gunshots going off down in the street below. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head and she barely could speak, "Dad!"
Without hesitation, she jumped out of the chair and flew down the staircase to the outside. A couple police cars drove past her building towards the market. She quickly followed them, running as fast as she could.
When she got there, she found a crowd of people standing around. She forced her way through them and saw him.
Her father was lying on the ground, full of bullets. Quickly, she ran towards him. But before she reached him, a police officer spoke to her in Italian saying, "Sorry mam, no one can cross here."
She spoke back in his language, "NO! You don't understand! That is my father! Please, let me go to him!"
"I'm sorry but you must wait until we put him in the ambulance; just one moment."
He held her back as the ambulance came onto the scene; they quickly placed his body on the stretcher and put him in the ambulance. Pulling herself from the policeman's grasp, she jumped into the ambulance just before they closed the doors.
The medics were working on him, and warned her not to touch him until they were finished. They wrote down his time of death and then let her be with him. Finally, she touched him for the first time by his hand. It was cold.
Tears quickly fell down her face. She was too late; he was gone. There was no saving him now. If only I had known sooner; if only I had been there.
Back in their apartment, the spaghetti pot overflowed with boiling water.
Six years later…
Logan ran through the forest; hard and fast. He came to the edge of a cliff and stopped. He sniffed the air cautiously, and then turned around just as Warren flew down on top of him.
Warren managed to punch him in the face, knocking him to the ground. But Logan quickly pulled himself up and ran after him, grabbing him and bringing him to the ground.
They wrestled for a moment, but then Warren's wings stretched out and pushed Logan away. Logan fell and hit the ground again. Warren picked himself up and touched his neck burning in him and looked up at Logan. A few moments, they stared each other down. This was it, now or never.
With a wild yell, Logan ran for him. Clenching his fist, Warren ran to him. On the cliffside, they ran for each other. And then, in one great, intense moment, they each pulled their fists out and hit each other at the exact same time in the head.
Simultaneously, they both were knocked out. Just a moment later, the simulator shut down and revealed that they were not fighting in a forest, but in the lower levels of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.
Approaching them was Storm, followed by Rouge, Bobby, and Peter. Warren got up, holding his head with pain. Logan got up, cracking his neck and never looking better.
Storm looked at both of them and said, "Good. Warren, I'm glad to welcome you to the X-Men. You passed."
"Passed? But he lost?" Logan informed her, very certain that he had been the victor.
"I didn't lose." Warren corrected him.
"Yeah, but you didn't win." Logan argued.
"Neither of us won." He finished it.
Storm nodded, "He didn't need to beat you Logan. I wasn't looking for that when I asked you to be the one to test him. His training has paid off; he passed with flying colors."
With that, she left the room along with Rouge, smiling at Logan, feeling he should have won. However, both Bobby and Peter left laughing; feeling the last action packed punch was quite a sight.
"You know, I really think that we should do that again Storm, because the way it went wasn't-"
Storm stopped and looked at Logan, "It went fine. Better than fine, actually. Logan, when school starts up next week, I want you to be in charge of a new class that we will be having this year. You're performance today was very impressive; I think you will be a good fighting instructor for the upcoming seniors of the class. However, you better watch the attitude, or I'll give it to someone else."
She turned and walked away from him, going to Professor's Xavier's former office, now hers. Confused yet satisfied, Logan lit a cigar and walked off.
As he walked down the halls of the empty school, he thought about earlier that year. The Golden Gate Bridge, the attack on Worthington Industries where Jamie 'the cure to the mutant problem' was kept. And he thought about Jean, or Phoenix, as she was that day. It was hard for him to let go of her, but the same thought kept coming into his mind. She loved Scott, not you. Taking another puff of his cigar, he blew it out of his mind.
Just then, he heard commotion going on. Even though school hadn't started, some of the kids were at school already because they had no where else to live. Knowing that, some kids ran down the hall, heading to the front windows.
Curious, Logan stopped Rouge by touching her arm. She had taken the medicine so didn't have her powers anymore. She looked at him with great excitement. He asked, "What's going on? Did a bomb go off or something?"
"Some kids said that they saw someone in a really nice car pull up just now. They say it's our new teacher!" and with that, she ran off.
Even more curious, Logan followed them, finding everyone by the windows up front. Leaning over with his cigar hanging out, he looking outside along with everyone else.
Sure enough there was a very nice car outside. It was a 1966 Mustang Convertible, black exterior and black interior leather seats. There was a red stripe going along each side of the mustang at the very bottom.
Its driver had just parked it out front, and stepped out of the car smoothly. Although they didn't know her, it was the same woman from Rome, Italy. She looked to be around the age of thirty, but in a very toned shape. She was dressed in tight black pants and wore a yellow halter top. She had the same Italian olive skin, pale pink lips, but her hair went a few inches past her shoulders and it was a golden color. Not blonde, just gold with the same wild curly waves.
Holding a black binder, she walked up to the front door. The students scrambled away from the front and out of sight. When she opened the door and looked in, she found Logan standing right there with his arms folded and cigar still hanging out.
"Hello." She formally said.
"Hello," Logan replied, unsure what to think of this entrancing creature.
"Is Ororo here?"
"Uh, who?"
"Ororo Munroe, the headmistress of the school." She made clear.
"Oh, you mean Storm." He said.
"Yes, I have an appointment with her."
"About what?" he said matter-of-factly.
Almost offended, she said, "About the teaching position."
In shock, he asked, "You're a teacher?"
Offended this time, she narrowed her eyes at him, "Yes, I am. You must be another teacher. Oh let me guess, you're in charge of the pig-headed department."
"Excuse me?" he couldn't believe his ears.
Just then Storm came up to them, "Oh great, you're here!"
She went over and hugged the mystery woman, "Ororo! How are you?"
"Good. Please, come with me, we'll continue this in my office."
"Uh, Storm!" Logan followed them as they walked, "Since I am a teacher here now, you won't mind if I sit in on the 'interview' as you guys would call it, right?"
The woman bit her bottom lip in great annoyance when Storm said, "Uh, sure. I guess you can; but I'll be asking the questions, so don't feel the need to jump in."
In her office, Storm took the woman's binder and said, "Well, Miss Bianchi; the Professor told me you were an extremely talented woman, but I never you were this educated!"
Logan quickly intervened, "Whoa whoa whoa! Bianchi as in Mobster Leonardo Bianchi? Or is that just a freak coincidence?"
The woman kept her cool and Storm told him, "Yes that was her father. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't mention that to the students; or interrupt again Logan."
"Uh, yeah, sure," he couldn't believe it, the Godfather's daughter was sitting right here in that room. He curiously thought somebody might show up and shot him.
Continuing, Storm said, "Four years at Oxford, four at Julliard, and two at Yale."
Ms. Bianchi told her, "I thought I'd try studying law, but I didn't care much for it," commenting on Yale.
Storm went over her transcripts and was in awe at every page, "This is amazing! I definitely think you will make a wonderful Literature teacher here at Xavier's."
They both stood and shook hands, "Welcome to our school, Professor."
Logan was in even more amazement, she teaches English?
Later on, Storm and Professor Bianchi were walking through the hallways, showing the new teacher the school. They went outside and passed by the courtyard, and stopped by the memorial stones of the deceased.
Seeing Charles Xavier's stone, the woman said, "That's awful what happened to Charles. I know that I haven't come by much to visit him, but we were old friends. Wisest person I've ever known."
"He was an inspiration to all of us." Storm agreed.
A few minutes later, Storm took her passed the sports facilities outside. She told her, "Oh, here are some of the students who live with us year round."
In the volleyball court were a few kids along with Bobby, Peter, and Warren. Bobby served the ball, and just as the ball went over the net, Warren jumped, with a little help from his great white wings and spiked it back.
The other team missed the ball. Warren smiled at Peter high fived him. He wiped his forehead with his shirt in his hand. His bare chest was a sight any woman wouldn't want to miss.
The young woman standing by Storm felt her heart leap. Wow, she thought to herself. Then, very calmly and formally, she asked Storm, "Who is that with the wings? Is he a student? He looks older than the others."
Storm laughed as she watched Warren fly above Peter and drop water all over him, making Peter not very happy. She replied, "Oh Warren? He's about 23. No, he's not a student; he is a member of our team. But I'll tell you about that a little later. He's Warren Worthington the III, his father owns Worthington Industries."
"You mean the company that started producing the supposed 'cure' to mutants?" The woman was very surprised.
"Yes," Storm answered.
"Oh," So many thoughts were filling her mind. Gorgeous and rich, this is too good to be true!