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 Two

Yes! Yes! He's here! He's here!

No, calm down. Calm down. Stop it. He's been here, at some point, that doesn't mean he still is. Come to that, it might be Jimmy – too big for that. He was here.

Resting a hand on the cuts in the tree, Butcher closed her eyes, hardly daring to hope. She might see him again. And he might not remember you, and if he doesn't… She ached at the thought of what she'd have to do.

She set off through the trees, skirting the couple still oblivious to her, looking for any clues to when he'd been here, for how long, where he was, anything. Night found her, very frustrated, with nothing but some more claw-marks and a duty to return to the mansion before lights-out.

Butcher unpacked, found her notebook and methodically noted her findings. Scratches in a tree. Some finding.

Two doors down, Storm wrote an e-mail to Hank McCoy, asking for advice.

In the dormitories, the students wilfully disobeyed the no-talking rule. The main topic of conversation was, of course, the imminent Superbowl, but the new teacher came a close second.

Fifty miles away, the mutant known as the Wolverine lit a cigar and drained a bottle. If he drank enough, he could overwhelm his metabolism, get drunk enough to sleep through the night. To the old nightmares he'd added new ones, of Jean killing the professor, of being helpless in Magneto's grip, of the sound his claws had made as they sliced into Jean's body, the glimpse of Jean, his Jean again as she died…

"Gimme another beer."

Next morning found the older children making full use of their Saturday morning to sleep. The younger ones, however, were wide awake, and had talked Butcher into thinking up a new game. As that was just what Storm had said would happen, she let herself be persuaded and set them to filling up several dozen water balloons.

When they returned from the woods just after noon, even the sleepiest had been roused by the gleeful shrieks of waterbomb battles, and Artie's team had defended their 'fort' so effectively that Artie himself was dripping wet, have been the victim of a vengeful ambush.

Storm gazed in mock horror at the hot, wet and happy children.

"What did you do?"

Butcher grinned. "Lose! Smart kids you have here." She relented. "Paintballing for skinflints. Get a lot of waterbombs, mark out a circle in the woods, put a 'treasure chest' and half the kids in the middle and get the other half to attack. Two hits and you're out. We may have to do it again tomorrow, Katie is determined to have a go defending. She says it's rigged."

Storm smiled. "You thought it up, you deserve to get wet. Is it rigged?"

"It is slightly biased, but it's not a certainty. Especially with these children."

"Yes, it's like that. They still surprise me, and I was one of them." Storm turned to look at Bobby, who was trying, rather bashfully, to ask if he and 'some of the others' could go to a movie that night.

"Who are the others?"

"Um, Rogue, Kitty and Peter."

"You know the rules – back by eleven, no drinking. Don't forget, you have dorm inspection tomorrow. Do it now."

"I will," and he was off to find Rogue, sticking his head around the door to call "Thank-you!"

"Dorm inspection?" asked Butcher.

"Yes, every week. I don't mind what kind of mess they are the rest of the week, but it has to be tidy on Sundays. Peter and Kitty, hmmm?"

"I take it Bobby and Rogue are an item?"

"Since Rogue got here, but it's really taken off since Rogue took the Cure. They couldn't touch before, you see. Some of the other students object to her being here, now that she's human, but the Professor would have let her stay…" Storm stopped, thin-lipped. Rogue was clearly a sore point.

Wolverine paid for his gas and hit the road again. He'd be needed back at the mansion for inspections. Since Jean – his throat closed, and he turned his thoughts from her – Storm couldn't run the school on her own. Four teachers. They coped fine with four teachers before. They can do it again. I only have to stay til they have four teachers.

A/N Next time: e-mails, secrets and the Cornflake Joke. You have been warned. Review! Go on, you know you want to…