Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Marvel, Fox or even the title of this story. But I did just find out that I will be getting a laptop for my eighteenth birthday, so I'll get to upload as many of my stories onto it as I want without bogging my family's computer down. Yay me!

Sidenote:To Narnian Sprite or all who were wondering, I update fast because I write out the whole story in a notebook long hand, whichtakes about a month or a little more,and then once I'm done, I type it up onto the computer. It usually takes me acouple hours to write out a chapter and this past weekend my nephew's been gone and so I've had a lot of sad, but free, time on my hands. Anyway, I hope ya'll enjoy the next chapter!

"How'd Scooter take the news?" Logan asked once he let me into his room. It was a little past ten that night and I had decided to stop by and talk to him before going to bed.

"Not too bad, I don't think he'll kill you just yet."

He let out a chuckle. "Well, I guess I can sleep better knowin' that then, can't I?" he said sarcastically.

"That's what I'm here for; to put your mind at ease." I laughed, sitting down in his armchair.

What Scott had told me about him and Jean resurfaced to the forefront of my mind as I sat there watching him change his shirt for bed. I wondered what had gone on between them.

Should I ask?

Was it really any of my business?

If I knew the whole story, would it change how I felt about him?

I decided that the answer to them all was 'no'. Scott had said that he had forgiven him and since neither of them had brought it up before then, I thought it best to let sleeping dogs lie, or so to speak anyway.

I twisted a piece of my hair around my finger as I thought.

"You all right?"

I turned my eyes to him from where I had been mindlessly staring at his closet doors. "Huh?" I asked dumbly.

He laughed. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, yeah, I was just thinking."

"About what?"

I untwisted the hair from my finger and ran my hand back through it all, combing it away from my face. "Next Sunday, I'm nervous," I lied…sort of. Although I had been thinking about what Scott had said, I was nervous about the next Sunday so I wasn't really lying…right?

"Why?" he asked, sitting down on his bed, facing me.

"Why? Did you just ask me why? Because it's one of the most awkward situations that anyone can go through. These people are my family and yet perfect strangers. I have to go into their house and be nice. I'm not good with people, what if I piss them off straight away or something?"

"So what if you do?"

"Why am I even talking to you about this? You don't give a care if you piss people off, you do it for fun, you enjoy it."

"Yeah, so?" he asked, looking for the point in what I had just said.

I rolled my eyes. "So I'm not like you, I need people to like me."

"Why?"

"I don't know," I said with a whine in my voice. I hated being sick: it made me whiney. "I was all excited and hyped up about meeting them until the Professor actually told me I was going to, now every time I think about it, I get sick."

"No, that's just your cold," he joked. I smiled despite myself. "You'll be alright kid, don't worry about it."

I let out a sigh. "I hope so," I said feeling my forehead with the back of my hand. "Will you check to see if I have a fever? I think my hand's warm."

He reached over and felt my forehead with his hand. "It feels alright to me."

"No, your hand feels hot too. Kiss me and see."

"Excuse me?" he said, removing his hand.

I laughed. "No, that's not how I meant it. Kiss my forehead; they say that's the best way to check."

He quirked an eyebrow at me. "Who's they?"

"Professionals. I don't know; they're just they."

He stood, came right in front of me and then bent down and kissed my forehead. "Yeah, you're a little hot."

"Why Logan, I had no idea you felt that way. You're not too bad yourself," I said, unable to resist, then threw back my head and laughed.

"You've got problems, kid," he said, sitting back down on his bed.

My laughing slowly stopped and I turned more serious. "Logan…do you remember if you had a family?"

He was quiet as he just nodded his head, feeling as if he were looking for words to say. "Yeah, I did."

"Do you remember them?"

"Some times."

"What were they like?"

He ran his hand back through his hair and let out a sigh. "I don't know."

"Were you married?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

He set his jaw as he paused for a moment. "Guy named Barnes killed her…and our baby."

It was strange for me to see Logan showing that kind of emotion and to hear him talk about his family. "A girl or a boy?"

"I don't know; it weren't born yet."

"I bet you would have been a good father…a husband." He looked at me with doubtful eyes. "I mean it, Logan. You're a good guy; I bet she really loved you."

"Yeah, well, I don't know."

"Well I do. You're not half as bad as you think you are, you know? Because despite your some times sarcastic attitude and quick temper, you're actually quite nice. To me at least."

"Yeah, tell that to Summers."

I smiled at him. "He already knows, he just doesn't like to admit it."

He raised his brow at me. "Among other things."

I laughed. "What did your wife look like?" I asked.

He let out a sigh. "Uh…black hair, brown eyes, sort of tall. I don't know."

"Was she pretty?"

"Uh, yeah," he said, nodding his head as he ruffled the back of his hair with his hand. "You kind'a remind me of her some times."

I paused. "Is that a good thing?"

He nodded. "Yeah darlin', I think it is," he said, looking at me. "I like it anyway."

"Good, I'm glad then."

Logan and I had quickly become unexpected confidants in one another. I had always had a terrible time talking about myself; I didn't ever want anyone to know any of my problems. But when I was with him, I didn't feel like I had to worry. I didn't think he would judge me over what I thought of felt. I think he felt the same way, which was why he was telling me what he remembered of his wife. That was personal, that was his to own, as were my secrets that I had told him about my mother, and yet he had chosen to share them with me.

The feeling I had when I was around him made me feel connected. We were two different people in nearly every way possible, and yet we found ourselves confiding things in one another that we otherwise would have kept hidden. The whole idea made me feel vulnerable. And yet, the very same idea made me feel safe. There had never been anyone like him in my life and I was thankful that he was there.

"So Logan, would you rather sleep with Scott once or never sleep with women ever again?" I asked, trying to lighten up the conversation.

"Get out of my room."

"Excuse me?" I asked with a laugh, confused by his sudden hostility.

"Get out of my room kid, now!" he demanded, pointing to the door.

"Why?"

"'Cause I'm not playin' that game with you anymore. Not after that question."

"Oh, it's a game Logan, it's meant to be fun. You should lighten up a little bit." He growled low in his chest, causing me to smile. We were both quiet for a few minutes before I became curious. "I'm curious," I said, breaking the silence. "Does telling me to leave and growling at me mean that you would rather sleep with Uncle Scott once than to never sleep with women again?"

"No, it doesn't."

"All right, that's all I wanted to know," I said with a smile.

After that, we settled back into another long silence. I curled up in his chair and closed my eyes as we both sat quietly for a while. I sat there for probably five or ten minutes before I heard him calling me.

"Hey darlin', you wanna' go to bed?"

I opened my eyes and sighed. "Yeah, I guess I better," I said standing and walking over to him. "Goodnight Logan."

I bent down to kiss his cheek, but as I did so, he moved his head and my lips met at the corner of his mouth. I froze, not sure of what to do. Logan placed his hand on my cheek and guided my mouth over to his. I decided to let him take control and do what felt natural. After a moment, his kissing became more insistent and I felt his other hand at the small of my back, pulling me closer to him and down onto the bed. He tangled his fingers in my hair and tilted my head back. I felt him bite down hard on my lip and a salty taste trickled into my mouth. I pulled back and felt my lip. When I looked at my fingers, I saw blood. Logan moved his mouth to my neck and worked his way up to my ear.

"Are you alright, Jean?" he asked.

My eyes flew open and I sat up straight in bed. I looked around my room in sheer confusion. Logan must have carried me in there after I fell asleep in the chair in his room, but I didn't remember falling asleep. And my dream seemed so real that I had to check my lip to make sure that it wasn't really bleeding. It wasn't.

The sun was barely rising and the sounds in the halls were mute as everyone slept in their rooms. I reminded myself to never eat anything before bed, as it can lead to weird dreams and cause you to wake up when you would like to sleep an extra, say, oh…two, maybe three hours? I was wide-awake, my mind racing from the after effects of my dream, so I got up. I felt much better that day than I had when I had woke up the morning before. I could breathe through my nose some and was grateful that my aunt was a doctor.

I stood by my bed for a moment, surveying it in the early morning light. What to do to pass the time until breakfast, I wondered. I kept looking until I spotted my sketchpad sitting out on my desk from where it had been for nearly a week, as I seemed to have been either too forgetful or lazy to put it away. I went to it and picked it up along with one of the pencils and a flat, angled eraser. Quietly I snuck across the hall into Logan's room, praying he wouldn't wake for a couple of more hours at least.

I sat down in the same armchair that I had fallen asleep in and just stared at the sleeping man in front of me. What had the dream meant, I wondered thoughtfully.

Was I jealous of Jean?

Had he bitten me in the dream as a sign that meant he was going to hurt me?

Is cheese really a good bedtime snack?

I thought and thought and the only thing I could think of to make sense was that perhaps since Jean had told me that he thought I was attractive and Uncle Scott had told me somewhat of his situation with Jean, my mind was just playing out the events of the day in my head. Perhaps, I thought, but the dream still felt too real for me to just give up the thought of it to a rational idea such as that.

I looked at the man sleeping in front of me and began to draw him. I noticed that he barely moved as he slept, which I was grateful for as I could sketch him without moving around the room. He lay with one of his arms tucked under his pillow and the other one beside it. His covers were wrapped around his waist loosely, showing off his bare back and arms, allowing me a nice view of him.

He was beautiful, sexy and the perfect person to draw. His body seemed to shade itself for me as I filled in the lines of his face. Everything about him seemed to translate onto the paper so easily that by the time he began to stir and I was finishing the shading of his blankets, I was surprised to see that it was a little after eight o'clock.

He opened his eyes and looked at me sleepily. "Hey," he mumbled.

"Hey," I said, smiling at him.

"I thought I got rid of you last night?"

I let out a sigh. "You did, but I had a…sort of weird dream and when I woke up, I couldn't go back to sleep. Is it okay that I'm in here?"

He made a muffled laughing sound into his pillow. "Never had a problem with women in my room before, not gonna' start now, kid," he said, rolling over onto his back. "You should've woke me up or something, I would've let you lay down with me."

"It's alright, I decided to draw instead."

"What'd you draw?"

I smiled and blushed slightly. "Uh, it's nothing, just a sketch of something."

"Let me see it," he said, reaching out his hand for the pad of paper in mine.

"Really, it's nothing Logan; it's not even that good."

"I don't care. Give it to me, I wanna' see it."

I reluctantly handed it over to him. He stared at it for a long time and my blush deepened from my embarrassment. He didn't seem to get it, but soon I realized that he got it, he was just studying it. Probably because he thinks it's shoddy, I thought. But his face didn't seem to show any type of emotion and so I couldn't quite peg what he thought.

"You did this?" he asked.

I nodded my head as I bit my bottom lip. "Yeah, this morning while you were asleep. I just finished it."

"So this is what I look like while I'm sleepin'," he said, nodding his head approvingly. "Not too bad."

"Thank you," I said as he handed the book back to me. "I like you, you're fun to draw."

"Well maybe you can do it while I'm awake some time," he said with a slight smile.

"Perhaps I will."

"Perhaps," he repeated.

I laughed and shook my head at him. "Does the offer for getting in bed with you still stand?"

"You couldn't knock it down if you tried, darlin'," he joked, causing me to laugh some more.

I stood and laid my back in the chair, taking my place. I walked to the other side of the bed and sat down, lifting the covers as I swung my legs and feet underneath them. It was soft and warm, making me feel instantly comfortable.

"I still stand by the argument that you're bed's more comfortable than mine," I said, turning on my side so that I could look at him.

He laughed. "What kind of dream did you have?"

"Just some weird dream."

"Weird how?"

"Weird like you and I were making out weird," I said honestly.

He looked down at me with a cocked eyebrow. "Really?"

"No, I just made that up because the real dream was something embarrassing and I didn't want to tell you," I lied sarcastically. "Yes really. We were in here in your room and I was going to give you a kiss on the cheek, but you turned your head just as I was and I kissed your mouth instead. We started making out then you bit my lip and made me bleed."

"Hm," he said thoughtfully. "It wasn't all that bad, though, was it?"

I laughed at him. "Aside from you biting my lip, not it wasn't bad," I said, shaking my head, "it was just weird."

"So," he said, "where'd you learn to draw like that?"

"Like what?"

"That good."

"I don't know, I always enjoyed it so I just kept doing it. I guess I just kept getting better at it."

"I bet you could make good money outta' that."

"Who would want to buy a picture with your mug on it?" I joked.

"I'm not talkin' about me; I'm talkin' about other people."

"I don't like drawing other people, though."

He looked over and blinked. "Really?"

"Don't get cocky on me now, sweet cheeks. I love you and all but you really can't afford for your head to be any bigger."

He began to laugh but then turned serious, as there was a knock on the door. He swore. "It's Scooter."

He stood abruptly, pulling the covers with him, which would have been fine, had I not been sitting on the edge of them. But I was, however, and that cause me to roll off the side of the bed, into the floor with a loud 'thud'.

"I'm all right," I whispered from where I lay, my back hurting slightly.

Logan sighed as he opened the door. "Yeah?"

"Have you seen my niece? She's not in here room and she didn't come down for breakfast?" Scott asked.

"I'm sure she's lyin' around here somewhere. She'll probably pop up soon," Logan said and I could tell he was smirking. I sat up from the floor and pushed the hair from my face, pulling a few strands from my mouth. "See, told you."

"Hi Uncle Scott," I said sheepishly, my head and shoulders barely visible over the bed.

They were both staring at me with the same expression, though I wasn't sure exactly what it was. Almost a pity, surprised and amused look.

"Why are you down there?" Uncle Scott asked.

I smiled the best I could, attempting to look natural. "I uh…was checking out the floor. You know, soft pine wood flooring really isn't soft. Curious, isn't it?"

They both continued to stare at me. "Yeah, almost as curious as why you're in the floor of Logan's bedroom at eight o'clock in the morning."

"Well…I uh, I couldn't sleep, so I got up. Nothing happened, I was just drawing."

"Is that so?" he asked skeptically.

I nodded my head fervently. "Uh huh," I said, my bangs swinging in front of my face.

"You wouldn't happen to have any proof of this, would you?" he asked, an eyebrow rising over his glasses.

"Well, yes, actually. My sketchpad's in that chair. I suppose that you could look at it."

He walked over to it, picked up the book, and began to flip through it. He stopped in the middle and looked thoughtfully at one of the pictures. "You drew all of these?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, standing from the floor and tucking the hair behind my ears.

"Who is this supposed to be?" He turned the pad towards me to show a sketch that I had done a few weeks back. It was of a fairly young man with black hair and dimples in his cheeks.

"Well, it's you…only without your glasses," I said, my sentence ending quietly. "Although that's not the one I did today."

I walked over to him, took the sketchpad from his hands, and began flipping through it myself. He stopped me on one of the pages. "That's Katie," he said.

"Yeah." I sighed. "She doesn't look like that anymore, but this was of before she got real bad." We both shared a pained silence as Logan stood awkwardly by the door with his arm folded across his chest. I continued flipping until I got to the one that I just had finished. "Ah, here it is, this is what I dew this morning. See the date at the bottom."

He took it from my hands, looked at it, then to Logan, and then back to it. "This is really good, Delia…despite who it's of."

I smiled at him. "Thank you."

He handed the book back to me. "You missed breakfast," he said.

"Yeah, I know."

"I have to get to class; I just wanted to make sure that you were okay. Be good and don't get into any trouble," he told me, giving me a kiss on the forehead.

"Do I ever?" I smiled.

"You might with this one," he said, passing by Logan. "Both of you stay out of trouble."

"Will do. Love you Uncle Scott."

"I love you too sweetheart," he said, right as Logan shut the door.

I laughed at the scowl on his face. "You're gonna' be the death of me, kid."

"But you just love me so darn much."

"You sure about that?" he asked with the double whammy: a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"Yes I am," I said confidently.

"Go get dressed," he ordered abruptly.

"Why?"

"'Cause we missed breakfast, so we're goin' out."

I went to my room and got dressed, just as he ordered. When I was done and Logan had critiqued my outfit of a purple sundress with a green sweater and brown cowboy boots, we went downstairs. We were about to leave when the Professor stopped us.

"Delia, Officer Johnson is on the phone in my office. He would like to speak with you."

Logan and I followed behind him as he led us to his office. Once there, I walked over to the phone and picked up the receiver that was lying on the desk.

"Hello?" I said into the phone.

"Hey Delia, how are you? I hope I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"I'm doing pretty well, thank you. And no, you're not interrupting anything; I was just going out for some breakfast. I'm glad you caught me before we left."

"Oh, and who's 'we'?" he asked teasingly.

"He's just a friend I met up here."

"A guy, huh? How old is he?"

"I don't know," I said. "Logan, how old are you?"

"A hundred and five," he answered.

"I'm being serious."

"So am I. I'm gonna' wait out in the hall, kid." He and the Professor than left.

"I don't know how old he is, Bob," I lied, figuring that a hundred and five isn't a typical answer for someone's age and that perhaps he wouldn't believe me anyway.

"Do I need to do a background check on this guy, have a talk with him, or what?"

I smiled. "We're not dating, we're just friends. Thanks for the offer, though. How's mother?"

He let out a loud sigh and his tone became more serious. "She's okay now, but she left the rehabilitation clinic without being released again yesterday. I only found her because I was called to the scene of the rally where she was."

"What rally?"

"Have you not seen the news?"

"No actually, I haven't."

"They held the biggest anti-mutant rally here in town yesterday. Katie was part of it. Apparently one of the nurses that worked at the clinic had been planning on going and when your mother heard about it, she talked the nurse into taking her with her. They were both arrested."

"Super freakin' fantastic," I said dry and sarcastically. How could she be that way? How could she hate us the way that she did? "Is she okay? I mean, where is she now?"

"She's back at the clinic and she's doing pretty well. I've got some guys down there to watch after her specifically now, so I don't think you should worry."

"Thank you Bobby, I really appreciate this, but maybe I should come home now. These people obviously don't know how to do their job and I can take better care of her than they are."

"No, you've not even been gone for three months yet, you're not coming home now. This was supposed to be so that you could finally have some time to yourself. Coming home now would defeat the whole purpose. Stay where you are and I'll take care of her. Now, don't get worried if you don't hear from me in a while, because I'm not going to call unless something important happens." I attempted to let out a sigh, but instead it came out as something else. "Did you just growl at me?" he asked.

"Yeah, but not really at you, sorry." Uncle Scott had been right; Logan's bad habits were beginning to rub off on me. "Right, I'll just stay put then."

"I'm going to visit her today, is there anything that you would like me to pass along to her?"

I thought for a moment. "Yeah, tell her that he daughter isn't listening to the stars. Ask her what the penalty is for that. I'll talk to you later, bye." I didn't wait for a reply before hanging up.

"You done?" Logan asked, opening the door and coming back into the office.

"Yeah. I just need to talk to Uncle Scott before we leave, though."

"Alright, we can go find him."

Together we walked the halls of the school, trying to find Scott's classroom. After a few minutes of searching, we found him teaching his science class to around twenty teenagers. I knocked on the door and waved for him to come out.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking concerned as he closed the door behind him and joining us in the hall.

"Have you seen the news lately?" I asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Have you seen anything about the anti-mutant rally over in Connecticut?"

"Uh, yeah, they've been talking about it all day, why?"

"I just talked to Bobby Johnson and he said that mother was there."

"How? Do those people not know how to keep their patients from escaping?"

"She left with a nurse. Apparently the nurse had been planning on going to the rally and when mother heard her talking about it, she talked the nurse into taking her with her."

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah, he said that she's fine now," I said, my voice slightly shaking.

"Okay, it's okay sweetheart," he said, putting his hand on my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me. He then pulled me into a half hug. "What's wrong Delia? This isn't just about the rally is it? She's been to those before. What are you really upset about?"

"I don't know; I'm just scared that something's going to happen."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," I said, fighting the urge to cry. "I don't know, I just have a really bad feeling right now."

He kissed me on top of my head and stroked my hair. "Nothing's going to happen sweetheart, I'm going to take care of you, I promise. Okay?" I nodded my head. "Now where were the two of you going?"

"We were going to get breakfast," I said, looking up at him.

"Okay," he told me, pushing the hair out of my eyes. He then reached into his pocked and pulled out his wallet before handing me a twenty dollar bill. "Here, why don't the two of you go do that and have some fun? If anything happens, I'll call you."

I took the money and nodded my head at him again. "Alright, thank you Uncle Scott."

He gave me a kiss on my forehead. "You're welcome. Go and have some fun, okay? And be careful, too."

"We will. I love you."

"I love you too sweetheart. Don't worry about anything."

I tried, but some times, things are easier said than done.