A/N Currently the muse says "Write X-Men fic!", so, ever obedient, I am writing an X-Men fic. The rating is for future violence.
Disclaimer: All the X-Men and the universe this fic is set in are owned by Marvel. No profit is being made from this work.
Chapter OneWhen Ororo Monroe entered her room after lunch, she was rather startled to find a girl already in there.
She looked about eighteen, and perfectly normal – five foot seven, longish brown hair, pale skin.
"What are you doing in here?"
The girl swallowed. "I let myself in – I picked the lock. Sorry."
"Why?"
"You mean why did I pick the lock, or why am I here?"
"Both. I like people to knock."
"Sorry. I picked the lock because you weren't here, and I wanted to talk to you before anyone else, and I came because, well," she smiled hesitantly, "I hear you're having trouble finding someone to teach math."
By this point Storm was baffled. "You want to teach math? Here?"
"Yeah – I'm older than I look."
"How old? Start from the beginning – who are you?"
"Sorry. My name's Sophie Taylor, but mostly people call me Butcher. Long story," she added hastily. "And to answer your other question, I'm thirty-seven."
"Wow."
Storm was in two minds about this – on the one hand, they really needed a math teacher, but on the other, this was a perfect stranger who had broken into the school.
"Why do you want to teach here?"
The girl – the woman, Storm corrected herself, Sophie - shrugged. "I want to teach here because…because these are children who need a math teacher, and because I can't just ignore that, and because," she grimaced, "I look eighteen. Finding work is not the easiest of tasks."
"You're a mutant."
"Well spotted."
"So you don't age – what else? Besides picking locks."
She grinned. "That's not a mutation, it's a skill. I heal quickly, and I can heal other people."
This was a strange person, Storm thought. Was she nervous or wasn't she? This was a decision the Professor should have been making. He'd have known if this Sophie could be trusted.
"What if I said yes?"
"I'd say 'Yippee!', and ask when I should start."
"What if I said no?"
She looked away. "I'd be very disappointed, and I'd say, well, that's reasonable, and I'd leave."
Still unconvinced, Storm decided that she couldn't decide yet. "You can stay for now. We'll see how things work out. But I'd appreciate it if you'd keep away from the basement."
"Until you can be sure I'm trustworthy?" She smiled. "You don't actually have to answer that."
"I'll find you a room," Storm said hurriedly.
Butcher looked out of the window of her new room. Nice view.
She shoved her few belongings into a corner to deal with later, squared her shoulders, and turned to face the door and the rest of the school. Time to face the music.
As the students drifted in to the dining hall, they glanced with mild curiosity at the girl talking to Storm.
"Hey Bobby, do you know who that is?" asked Kitty.
"No, I've never seen her before. Is she a new student?"
"Must be. How can you eat that stuff?"
"You mean, carrots?"
"Carrots. Yuck."
Similar conversations were taking place all over the hall when Storm rose from her seat and knocked on the table for quiet.
"As you all know, recent events have left us a bit short of teachers. In light of that fact, I'm pleased to introduce Sophie Taylor, also known as Butcher. She has kindly agreed to teach you for a trial period."
Excited chatter broke out.
"But, Storm, she's not…"
"Not what, Artie?"
"She's not grown up!"
Butcher glanced at Storm for permission, and answered, "I'm older than I look, quite a lot older. I'm to teach you math and the three sciences, and I hope you'll persuade Storm to let me stay." She winked. "She isn't quite sure she likes me after my somewhat unorthodox entrance."
Leaving the children to wonder what that "unorthodox" meant, she sat down again. Storm cleared her throat.
"Lessons in math and science will begin on Monday. Any questions? Jubilee."
"Is Ms Taylor a mutant?"
"Yes, she's a healer. Flea."
"Can she heal my foot?" His friends laughed.
"Ask her nicely later. Anyone else? No? Then I'll let you finish in peace."
Storm sat, and glared at Butcher. "Unorthodox?"
Flea winced as he pulled his sock off so Butcher could examine the hurt foot.
"Nasty bruise. What did you do to it?"
"I didn't do anything to it. Colossus landed on me."
Peter, hearing his name, glanced across the room. "So dodge!"
"I couldn't! You were in the way – hey!" The bruise on his foot was fading from purple to greenish, and swiftly vanished completely. "Thanks miss!"
Butcher winced. Am I a miss now? "Please, it's Butcher. 'Miss' makes me feel I have to be sensible."
"Why do they call you Butcher?"
"It's a joke. Butchers take things apart; I put them back together again. I'll admit it's not a good joke, but the name has stuck."
"How old are you, mi-Butcher? If you don't mind me asking, that is."
"I don't mind. I'm thirty-seven. How old are you?"
"Twelve, but I'll be thirteen in six weeks."
Butcher straightened up. "Well, mister nearly-thirteen, next time watch where Colossus is putting his feet."
She left the common room and headed for the grounds.
Butcher leant against a tree, and let herself shudder out all her nervousness. She hated meeting strangers, and she especially hated meeting lots of strangers at once. But they wouldn't be strangers for long. She'd deal with it. She could cope. She could also hear someone behind her, and looked around the tree. It was a couple of students kissing in the shadows. Nothing to worry about. That, however…
There were three parallel cuts in the bark.
Yes!
A/N Why is she there? Why is she so happy to see a mutilated tree? Will she get to stay? All will be revealed. It is even possible it will be revealed in the next chapter. Reviews gratefully accepted.
