Author's note: Thank you to kmj1989 for the review! I agree, Raven is super petty. Makes it fun to write her, though. Like an outlet for all the pettiness I have to repress in real life. I hope you enjoy today's chapter. Some fun times and jokes before getting back to some seriousness. Hello, Remus! Good to know you're still out there!

The Huntress

"Unless you have a different plan for the day, I think we should start with some sparring," Hank tells Raven while they wait for the other X-Men to arrive. "That way we can judge Roxanne's strengths and weaknesses before putting her in simulations."

"And who exactly do you want her sparring with?"

He clears his throat- he already has a feeling that his proposal will not be received well. "I thought perhaps I could-"

Raven snorts. "Why am I not surprised?" she mutters, rolling her eyes. "You are not sparring with each other."

"I think it would be better if I fought against Hank," Roxanne nervously interjects. She leans into Hank, a reaction that seems rather unconscious. The feral in him likes that she instinctively turns to him for support, though it's probably not helping their case at the moment. "He's more... durable than the others. I'm less likely to accidentally kill him."

This reasoning makes perfect sense to Hank. While his healing factor is nowhere near the level of hers or Logan's, he still has the ability to recover from say, a stab wound, within a couple of days rather than weeks. His fur and thick hide also provide a little bit of extra protection, should Roxanne land a hit with her claws on him.

Of course Raven doesn't see it that way.

The shapeshifter's eyebrows immediately go up. "Sounds like someone's got an ego already," she says coldly. Hank privately finds her disdain ironic, considering the recent trouncing Roxanne gave the shapeshifter. "Let's knock you down a peg. You're working with Quicksilver."

And then, giving life to the old adage "speak of the devil and he shall appear," the silver-haired speedster essentially materializes out of thin air.

"Someone say my name?" he asks brightly.

"Yeah," Raven replies, but she's still watching Hank like a hawk, as if daring him to argue. "You're sparring with Roxanne today."

"Cool."

He turns towards the feral pair with a sly grin that immediately puts Hank on alert, but the younger X-Men members fortunately choose that moment to make their entrance.

Or perhaps not so fortunately.

The speedster nudges his elder counterpart jocularly. "You know, I saw Roxanne coming out of your room this morning," he observes, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Hank immediately feels the heat rise in his face, and he knows without looking that Roxanne is flushing furiously.

"Ooooh," Scott teases. "A little bedtime shenanigans? A little hanky-panky?"

Peter laughs. "Hanky-panky-"

"Both of you, stop it," Hank scolds, but he's too embarrassed for the reproof to have much weight to it.

"Scott," Jean adds, "knock it off. Roxanne had a nightmare. She just wanted some comfort from her boyfriend."

"Thank you, Jean," Roxanne tells the telepath, with obvious relief.

"Aw, that is very sveet," Kurt observes.

Raven lets out an irritated grunt. "Ok, enough," she snaps impatiently. For once Hank isn't offended by her snippy tone; he's actually rather glad to put this particular conversation topic to bed. "We're here for training, not social hour."

The other X-Men look appropriately chastised.

"Alright. Sparring today," Raven announces. "Scott, you're with Kurt. Jean and Storm, you're working together. Peter, you're breaking in the newbie. Me and Hank are going to supervise."

The team divides up into their assigned pairs, drifting to the far reaches of the room to give each other space. Only Roxanne and Peter remain close by.

"Want me to go easy on you?" Peter asks, with a teasing grin. He looks confident, but he has good reason to be. When it comes to hand-to-hand combat his speed makes him essentially unbeatable by the other X-Men.

Roxanne gives him a little smile in return and shakes her head. "No, don't," she replies. "An enemy won't go easy on me, so you shouldn't either. Don't worry about hurting me, either."

He shrugs. "Suit yourself."

The speedster then becomes a silver blur, and though Roxanne tracks him, she can't move fast enough to react or block the incoming blow.

She lands flat on her back with a loud smack.

Hank winces in sympathy, but the self-satisfied smirk on Raven's face sincerely makes him want to forget his manners for once.

"You ok?" Peter asks, offering a magnanimous hand up.

"Yeah, I'm good," Roxanne replies. She accepts his hand up and shakes herself. "Let's go again."

"You sure you don't want me to slow down?" Peter asks dubiously, about an hour- and several beatings- later. If Roxanne didn't have her healing factor she would be several shades of black and blue by now.

She's managed to block perhaps one in ten of Peter's attacks, which Hank assured her is better than most, but despite her best efforts has offered no counterblows of her own. His encouragement means little next to Mystique's obvious disdain and venomous enjoyment of her failures. She's standing next to Hank with her arms crossed and wearing this little smirk that Roxanne wants to beat right off of her face.

"Roxanne, perhaps Peter should go down to half- speed so we can assess your attacking skills," Hank suggests gently.

While she knows he means it kindly, her pride won't let her back down. Her jaw sets and she shakes her head stubbornly. "No, thank you," she replies through her teeth.

Mystique snorts derisively. "As much as I'm enjoying watching you get your ass beat, I've got other stuff to do today," she sneers. "How about you give your ego a rest?"

Something inside Roxanne snaps. She rounds on the shapeshifter and snarls, "my ego? Why don't you tell that to your fucking face, Mystique?" She then turns back to Peter (who looks like he's trying not to laugh at the way Mystique's mouth just dropped open) and firmly tells him, "again, please, Peter. Full speed."

She closes her eyes, centering herself against her mounting frustration and the anger towards Mystique coursing through her veins.

The whisper of a breeze against her face is enough warning before Peter can land his punch.

Roxanne grabs his wrist and wrenches him back while simultaneously dealing such a sharp kick to his face that it lifts his feet clean off the floor as he falls backwards.

Thud.

"Nice!" Peter says cheerfully. And then he clutches the back of his head, which did just land first on the hard ground. "Ow!"

"Sorry," Roxanne tells him, helping him to his feet.

He waves off the apology with his usual levity. It's so easy to like the happy-go-lucky speedster, even if he just beat her up for the past hour. "Were you fighting with your eyes closed just now?"

"Yeah," she replies sheepishly. "It helped me sense you coming. It looked weird, but it worked."

"Great job, Roxanne," Hank says, coming closer. He's grinning wide enough to show his fangs, genuinely delighted and unreserved, and she grins back.

"Oh come on," Mystique interjects, ever the black cloud. "She only beat him once."

"That's definitely more than you can say," Peter points out, to which the shapeshifter gives him an icy glare. Roxanne has to bite back a smile.

"Let's break for lunch, shall we?" Hank breaks in hastily. To the room at large he calls out, "form up, team!"

Peter turns to the feral girl with a speculative gleam in his eyes. "You know, we've gotta come up with a code name for you," he observes as the other X-Men join them. "Got any ideas? Wolverine is your dad, right?"

"Yeah, he is."

"Hank, what animals are related to wolverines?"

"Badgers, weasels, otters, stoats-"

"What the hell are stoats?" Scott asks.

"Small, carnivorous ferret-shaped creatures that take down much larger prey with a bite to the back of the neck," Hank replies.

"That's pretty bad ass," Scott says. "But 'stoat' doesn't really sound like a cool name."

"Indeed. While equally ferocious, I'm afraid the animal relatives of the wolverine don't exactly have the same name recognition and fearsome reputation," Hank explains. "For example, did you know that river otters can kill anacondas?"

"But they're so cute," Jean objects.

"Yes, but-"

"Enough with the National Geographic lesson. You can talk about homicidal ferrets at lunch," Mystique interjects. "Just have Roxanne pick a code name and be done with it."

Everyone rounds on the feral girl, who quails a little under all the scrutiny.

"Well, Roxanne?" Scott asks. "What'll it be?"

Roxanne thinks on it for a moment. "I just found out yesterday that my birth name was Artemis," she says hesitantly. She immediately half-wishes that she didn't share that- it seems too personal, even if the X-Men are supposed to be her teammates and everything.

"Like the goddess of the moon?" Ororo asks.

Roxanne nods.

"And of the hunt," Hank adds softly. "Perhaps you should be Huntress?"

She smiles at him. "That sounds perfect."

The X-Men.

She's heard of them, of course- after the events of last year, you'd have to be living under a rock not to. And while she's been keeping a low profile, it hasn't been that low. Just earlier this month they'd been plastered all over the news for assisting with a tsunami evacuation on the coast of Africa.

And now...

It had been foolish of her to believe the twins would stay hidden forever, especially considering who their father is. Her brother has spent almost a thousand years meddling in James' bloodline, and it was probably inevitable that Romulus would find out about them. The fact that James' children are also of his blood will mean nothing to her brother. Sentimental, he is not. She knew that already, but never was it more clear than when she pleaded for him to let Jimmy go, for her sake, only to have Romulus laugh in her face.

Jimmy isn't her mate and never was, but they had fun together for many years. And of course, he is the father of her children.

She wasn't sure what it was that attracted her to him- he was over a head shorter than her, extremely hairy and rather uncouth- even downright vulgar at times. Maybe it was the devil-may-care attitude he had, masking the soft heart he let shine through around her sometimes. She probably should have slapped him the first time he kissed her- many a man had died for simply touching her without her consent, let alone for stealing a kiss- but she blamed it on the heat of battle still singing through their veins for allowing it, for responding to the ardor of his lips on hers.

Jimmy, for all his lack of refinement and outward crudity, treated her like a goddess in the bedroom. And for a woman who has lived as a warrior for thousands of years, it was nice to pretend to be a lady for once. It was a fine balance that he somehow managed well, worshipping her body while still respecting her fighting capabilities. He made her laugh, he fought by her side. It was a good partnership.

When he told her he loved her, she couldn't help responding to that love. As much as she was capable of, at least. Even though part of her always knew it was doomed.

It was just like how she couldn't help loving the twins she gave birth to. Even though she knew she couldn't keep them. Even though they never truly felt like hers. She left them where the feral old Inuit man would find them in the Alaskan woods, knowing that's where they belonged.

But not anymore, it seems.

Romulus knows about them.

A photograph, taken in the snow.

A tall, pale man- one of the X-Men.

And Jimmy.

Along with little Artemis, all grown up.

Her son is dead, but her daughter- her daughter is with her father.

And there's no more dangerous a place for her to be.

Remus sighs.

She needs to ponder her next move.