Logan donned his Xmen suit and stepped into the large room, he
went to the master control panel, and scanned over the random library of
adversaries. Scott was usually his first choice, and the Canadian Rockies
was his favorite location for beating the living daylights out of the one
eyed mutant. But this afternoon he had the urge for something much more
challenging. Taking on a whole army of sentinels, in the streets of New
York. This was where he went whenever he needed to release the anger
building inside of him.
The hologram images began to appear all around him and one by one with lightening fast speed he took on the sentinels. The angrier he was the more powerful and quick he became. The animalistic impulse to kill was something he battled with everyday, and the advanced technology of the danger room was the one place he could do what he did best without hurting a soul.
Ororo knew where to find Logan. The Danger Room was the one place he found solace, when he was pissed off at the world around him. She took a place in the master control room , just as he was finishing up the last of the sentinels coming at him. At least he was learning to be constructive with his anger lately. He was still the odd one out around here. He didn't want to fit in, didn't really want to part of the team, he fought it every step of the way. But he had connected with Charles. The one person he had begun to believe in, had let him down.
As he finished the fight Ororo's voice came overhead, "Not bad, 25 sentinels in 25 minutes. Of course I really thought you would have chosen the Professor, after the confrontation upstairs." He didn't really want company. But entered the master control room, where she threw him a towel.
"I'm lousy company right now, Ro."
"I can see that. But you walked out before you got the whole story, Logan."
"I'm not interested in the whole story. I did my job, I got the girl out of England, my hands are washed of the whole thing."
"I don't think so. I've seen you, Logan. Hanging around the conservatory, listening to her play. I've been there too, but I'm the one who likes classical music. As far as I know you don't know the difference from a sonata and a symphony." He didn't want to get into this conversation. But Ororo wouldn't let up, he walked towards the door, and she stood up and blocked him "Whether you want to admit it or not, you feel connected to her, that display in Xavier's office proves it."
"You've got a great imagination, Ro. Now can you get out of my way, I've got things to do."
"Just hear me out for a sec" frustrated he let out a sigh, "You are the one person here who could help Hannah. She's more like you than you think. "
He started to laugh cynically, "That's a good one. Me help her. We are different as night and day. She's Charles responsibility. He can deal with her."
"Oh, come on,Logan, you had to have sensed Charles putting his distance between her and himself. I watched your expression when he mentioned her, when he mentioned her mother."
"Okay, so he had some fling with the mother more than likely, and he feels some obligation to her daughter. Don't you think he would have welcomed her here, or something? He hasn't even seen her since she arrived. You have to find that odd."
She nodded. " A bit. But he must have his reasons."
"Just like the reasons he won't tell her she's a mutant? Give me a break, Ro."
"So you obviously have some explanation, some theory."
"That I don't feel like sharing with you. I'm going to take a shower. And then I'm going out. So if anyone is looking for me, I won't be around."
"You aren't even curious about her mutant abilities?"
"No, I'm not. I told you, I've washed my hands of the whole mess."He pushed passed her and headed out of the room. Ororo just rolled her eyes. Some things never changed.
During the dinner hour Hannah took her meal in her room. But tonight she wasn't even hungry. She walked out into the hall and it was quiet. Everyone was up in the dining hall. She hated crowds, it was the last place she wanted to be. She couldn't help but notice one of the rooms down the hall was open, she peeked her head inside and there wasn't anyone there. She didn't mean to be nosy, but the last few days here in this place she had been given freedom, even if it was minimal. In England there had always been a body guard or an agent or someone with her. She had been left alone here, she had been able to make choices..where to eat, when to practice. It was a start to a new independence she began to crave. She saw no harm in just looking. No one would ever know she had even been here.
The bed was unmade, a pair of jeans crumpled on the floor, she picked them up and as she found a magazine lying underneath them. Playboy. Hannah didn't have to look inside, even though she had never seen this magazine in her life. It was something she felt quite often when picking up a book or magazine or contract or piece of music. She never had to go past the front cover. For some reason she knew it's contents the second it was placed in her hands. And this time was no different, her head began to ache and then she was a bit embarrassed, by the page after page of naked women, she dropped it back on the floor and grabbed her head as it began to throb. She didn't understand this phenomena, but had never had anyone she could confide in concerning these occurences. .She was already a freak, always on display, always having to be so perfect and good.
As the throbbing subsided she noticed a framed photograph on the bedside table of a beautiful Japanese woman. She picked it up. She was beautiful. Hannah put a hand threw her own black hair, it reached down to the middle of her back. There were times she wanted to chop it all off. She knew she was not beautiful, she had no dress sense and her parents had always forbid her to wear makeup. She centered her attention back on the photograph. She imagined what she was like, noble, graceful, kind..and whoever occupied this room was hopelessly in love with her. Maybe he couldn't be with her because her family looked down on mutants. Much like her own family had. She enjoyed the game of wondering who, where and why...it was something she often played on the road. Since her encounters with real people was pretty much non existence. She was in her own little world.
Logan had just come from the showers in the locker room draped in a robe, he ran a towel through his hair as he entered his room and caught the sight of Charles' godchild looking at his private things. Had he left the door open? Possibly, but still, she had no right being there.
"What are you doing here?" he snapped, and the photograph dropped from her hands. The frame broke into pieces.
The anger once again building in him, after he had so successfully worked it out of his system only minutes earlier. He moved towards her and began to pick up the shards of glass, he took the picture in his hand and then with a furrowed brow, looked straight at her.
"I don't know how you were brought up in jolly old England, Miss Masterson but here in the States we respect others privacy, and you have just stepped over the line. You have no right going through my things."
"I wasn't. The door was open...." she stammered, "I'm sorry. I was just..."
"Curious? Ever heard the expression Curiosity Killed the Cat.?" He continued to clean up the mess., Hannah still standing over him, "I guess you didn't get the message. You don't want to mess with me, Miss...."
"Hannah...my name is Hannah. And I'm not afraid of you."
"Well, you should be. You don't know what I'm capable of." Hannah stared at his hands. She remembered the night at the house in Bloomsbury, the men who came for her father, she was knocked out for awhile, but she saw him....she saw the claws come out of the backs of his hands. He had told her to move under the desk, stay out of the way. He had been kind to her. He had carried her out to the van because she had twisted her ankle. He didn't say much, but she saw something in his eyes. It was there today in the conservatory as well.
Logan followed her eyes to his hands, "What are you staring at?"
"Nothing." She quickly averted her gaze.
"Well, the show's over, next time you want to find out about someone I suggest you ask." He managed to pick up all the pieces and threw them into the trashcan.
"Who is she?" Hannah questioned, as she noticed the look in his eyes as he looked at the woman in the photograph.
"Look, just go back to your room. I'm going out and you're wasting my time."
"Where are you going?" She was surprised by her own boldness. But it felt good.
"Has anyone ever told you you're annoying as hell."
"You told me to ask you questions. That's what I'm doing."
'I think you should be asking the professor the questions. My life wouldn't interest you whatsoever," He was standing at the door, his arm outstretched for her to go out. But she stood planted to the same spot glaring at him.
"I don't know how you can say that. You don't know anything about what interests me. And for your information, I have spent the last 10 years of my life with no contact with my Godfather. I really doubt we're going to have some wonderful meaningful relationship now."
He looked surprised, the bitterness in her voice was evident.
"I know it doesn't make sense. Why would my parents choose this man to be my godfather....I'm sure the money had something to do with it. I went to all the right schools because of him, I studied with the most renown pianists of the day, oh, and let's not forget he sent me presents for my birthday, always something extravagant. What more could a girl want?" she said sarcastically. Then she continued, her mood changed There was a tinge of sadness in her voice, "He attended a good deal of my concerts all over the world, the biggest bouquet in my dressing room was from him. But not once did this man show up backstage to wish me well, or congratulate me afterwards. I don't understand why he wants me here. Why he can't face me." She looked to Logan, hoping he might be able to give her an answer.
Logan's mind raced trying to understand what she was telling him. This didn't sound like the Chuck he knew. But after today's revelation in the study, he wasn't sure he even knew the professor at all.
Hannah felt the headaches coming, they happened sometimes when she was upset. When she closed her eyes, she saw pages of music manuscripts, the pages of Logan's Playboy, and the pages and pages of documents, words that meant nothing to her. She didn't know where they came from. She quickly opened her eyes, "I'm sorry, for the mess I've made. I really shouldn't have come in here." She needed to get out of here, she needed to play. The only thing that made the words go away.
She headed for the door, Logan concerned about what he just witnessed, grabbed her by the arm, "Hannah, wait."
She looked down at his hand grasping her forearm, then she looked up into his eyes."I don't need your pity." Logan couldn't help but notice that there were tears in her eyes, "I need to go play. I can't explain it, it's just what I have to do right now."
He understood more than she would ever know. And wanted to say something to her. All of a sudden the invasion of privacy, the broken picture frame was not important. Her eyes met his for a brief moment and there was an understanding she had never experienced before. She had never meant to show this side of herself to anyone. She had kept it hidden for so many years, and now this strange man knew more about her in the last few minutes than anyone had in her whole life. She couldn't deal with this now, she quickly averted her eyes and ran out of the room.
Logan stood in silence, still holding the photograph of Mariko in the broken picture frame. Was Ororo right? Was he the one that could help Hannah? One thing was for certain, she had some weird kind of a hold on him. He shook the thought from his head, he needed a drink, and a attractive woman by his side tonight didn't sound like such a bad idea either. He dropped the robe, and pulled on a pair of jeans. Yes, he definitely needed to get out of here tonight. After slipping on a Tshirt, he grabbed his jacket and made his way through the long corridors, anxious to breath in the night air.
The hologram images began to appear all around him and one by one with lightening fast speed he took on the sentinels. The angrier he was the more powerful and quick he became. The animalistic impulse to kill was something he battled with everyday, and the advanced technology of the danger room was the one place he could do what he did best without hurting a soul.
Ororo knew where to find Logan. The Danger Room was the one place he found solace, when he was pissed off at the world around him. She took a place in the master control room , just as he was finishing up the last of the sentinels coming at him. At least he was learning to be constructive with his anger lately. He was still the odd one out around here. He didn't want to fit in, didn't really want to part of the team, he fought it every step of the way. But he had connected with Charles. The one person he had begun to believe in, had let him down.
As he finished the fight Ororo's voice came overhead, "Not bad, 25 sentinels in 25 minutes. Of course I really thought you would have chosen the Professor, after the confrontation upstairs." He didn't really want company. But entered the master control room, where she threw him a towel.
"I'm lousy company right now, Ro."
"I can see that. But you walked out before you got the whole story, Logan."
"I'm not interested in the whole story. I did my job, I got the girl out of England, my hands are washed of the whole thing."
"I don't think so. I've seen you, Logan. Hanging around the conservatory, listening to her play. I've been there too, but I'm the one who likes classical music. As far as I know you don't know the difference from a sonata and a symphony." He didn't want to get into this conversation. But Ororo wouldn't let up, he walked towards the door, and she stood up and blocked him "Whether you want to admit it or not, you feel connected to her, that display in Xavier's office proves it."
"You've got a great imagination, Ro. Now can you get out of my way, I've got things to do."
"Just hear me out for a sec" frustrated he let out a sigh, "You are the one person here who could help Hannah. She's more like you than you think. "
He started to laugh cynically, "That's a good one. Me help her. We are different as night and day. She's Charles responsibility. He can deal with her."
"Oh, come on,Logan, you had to have sensed Charles putting his distance between her and himself. I watched your expression when he mentioned her, when he mentioned her mother."
"Okay, so he had some fling with the mother more than likely, and he feels some obligation to her daughter. Don't you think he would have welcomed her here, or something? He hasn't even seen her since she arrived. You have to find that odd."
She nodded. " A bit. But he must have his reasons."
"Just like the reasons he won't tell her she's a mutant? Give me a break, Ro."
"So you obviously have some explanation, some theory."
"That I don't feel like sharing with you. I'm going to take a shower. And then I'm going out. So if anyone is looking for me, I won't be around."
"You aren't even curious about her mutant abilities?"
"No, I'm not. I told you, I've washed my hands of the whole mess."He pushed passed her and headed out of the room. Ororo just rolled her eyes. Some things never changed.
During the dinner hour Hannah took her meal in her room. But tonight she wasn't even hungry. She walked out into the hall and it was quiet. Everyone was up in the dining hall. She hated crowds, it was the last place she wanted to be. She couldn't help but notice one of the rooms down the hall was open, she peeked her head inside and there wasn't anyone there. She didn't mean to be nosy, but the last few days here in this place she had been given freedom, even if it was minimal. In England there had always been a body guard or an agent or someone with her. She had been left alone here, she had been able to make choices..where to eat, when to practice. It was a start to a new independence she began to crave. She saw no harm in just looking. No one would ever know she had even been here.
The bed was unmade, a pair of jeans crumpled on the floor, she picked them up and as she found a magazine lying underneath them. Playboy. Hannah didn't have to look inside, even though she had never seen this magazine in her life. It was something she felt quite often when picking up a book or magazine or contract or piece of music. She never had to go past the front cover. For some reason she knew it's contents the second it was placed in her hands. And this time was no different, her head began to ache and then she was a bit embarrassed, by the page after page of naked women, she dropped it back on the floor and grabbed her head as it began to throb. She didn't understand this phenomena, but had never had anyone she could confide in concerning these occurences. .She was already a freak, always on display, always having to be so perfect and good.
As the throbbing subsided she noticed a framed photograph on the bedside table of a beautiful Japanese woman. She picked it up. She was beautiful. Hannah put a hand threw her own black hair, it reached down to the middle of her back. There were times she wanted to chop it all off. She knew she was not beautiful, she had no dress sense and her parents had always forbid her to wear makeup. She centered her attention back on the photograph. She imagined what she was like, noble, graceful, kind..and whoever occupied this room was hopelessly in love with her. Maybe he couldn't be with her because her family looked down on mutants. Much like her own family had. She enjoyed the game of wondering who, where and why...it was something she often played on the road. Since her encounters with real people was pretty much non existence. She was in her own little world.
Logan had just come from the showers in the locker room draped in a robe, he ran a towel through his hair as he entered his room and caught the sight of Charles' godchild looking at his private things. Had he left the door open? Possibly, but still, she had no right being there.
"What are you doing here?" he snapped, and the photograph dropped from her hands. The frame broke into pieces.
The anger once again building in him, after he had so successfully worked it out of his system only minutes earlier. He moved towards her and began to pick up the shards of glass, he took the picture in his hand and then with a furrowed brow, looked straight at her.
"I don't know how you were brought up in jolly old England, Miss Masterson but here in the States we respect others privacy, and you have just stepped over the line. You have no right going through my things."
"I wasn't. The door was open...." she stammered, "I'm sorry. I was just..."
"Curious? Ever heard the expression Curiosity Killed the Cat.?" He continued to clean up the mess., Hannah still standing over him, "I guess you didn't get the message. You don't want to mess with me, Miss...."
"Hannah...my name is Hannah. And I'm not afraid of you."
"Well, you should be. You don't know what I'm capable of." Hannah stared at his hands. She remembered the night at the house in Bloomsbury, the men who came for her father, she was knocked out for awhile, but she saw him....she saw the claws come out of the backs of his hands. He had told her to move under the desk, stay out of the way. He had been kind to her. He had carried her out to the van because she had twisted her ankle. He didn't say much, but she saw something in his eyes. It was there today in the conservatory as well.
Logan followed her eyes to his hands, "What are you staring at?"
"Nothing." She quickly averted her gaze.
"Well, the show's over, next time you want to find out about someone I suggest you ask." He managed to pick up all the pieces and threw them into the trashcan.
"Who is she?" Hannah questioned, as she noticed the look in his eyes as he looked at the woman in the photograph.
"Look, just go back to your room. I'm going out and you're wasting my time."
"Where are you going?" She was surprised by her own boldness. But it felt good.
"Has anyone ever told you you're annoying as hell."
"You told me to ask you questions. That's what I'm doing."
'I think you should be asking the professor the questions. My life wouldn't interest you whatsoever," He was standing at the door, his arm outstretched for her to go out. But she stood planted to the same spot glaring at him.
"I don't know how you can say that. You don't know anything about what interests me. And for your information, I have spent the last 10 years of my life with no contact with my Godfather. I really doubt we're going to have some wonderful meaningful relationship now."
He looked surprised, the bitterness in her voice was evident.
"I know it doesn't make sense. Why would my parents choose this man to be my godfather....I'm sure the money had something to do with it. I went to all the right schools because of him, I studied with the most renown pianists of the day, oh, and let's not forget he sent me presents for my birthday, always something extravagant. What more could a girl want?" she said sarcastically. Then she continued, her mood changed There was a tinge of sadness in her voice, "He attended a good deal of my concerts all over the world, the biggest bouquet in my dressing room was from him. But not once did this man show up backstage to wish me well, or congratulate me afterwards. I don't understand why he wants me here. Why he can't face me." She looked to Logan, hoping he might be able to give her an answer.
Logan's mind raced trying to understand what she was telling him. This didn't sound like the Chuck he knew. But after today's revelation in the study, he wasn't sure he even knew the professor at all.
Hannah felt the headaches coming, they happened sometimes when she was upset. When she closed her eyes, she saw pages of music manuscripts, the pages of Logan's Playboy, and the pages and pages of documents, words that meant nothing to her. She didn't know where they came from. She quickly opened her eyes, "I'm sorry, for the mess I've made. I really shouldn't have come in here." She needed to get out of here, she needed to play. The only thing that made the words go away.
She headed for the door, Logan concerned about what he just witnessed, grabbed her by the arm, "Hannah, wait."
She looked down at his hand grasping her forearm, then she looked up into his eyes."I don't need your pity." Logan couldn't help but notice that there were tears in her eyes, "I need to go play. I can't explain it, it's just what I have to do right now."
He understood more than she would ever know. And wanted to say something to her. All of a sudden the invasion of privacy, the broken picture frame was not important. Her eyes met his for a brief moment and there was an understanding she had never experienced before. She had never meant to show this side of herself to anyone. She had kept it hidden for so many years, and now this strange man knew more about her in the last few minutes than anyone had in her whole life. She couldn't deal with this now, she quickly averted her eyes and ran out of the room.
Logan stood in silence, still holding the photograph of Mariko in the broken picture frame. Was Ororo right? Was he the one that could help Hannah? One thing was for certain, she had some weird kind of a hold on him. He shook the thought from his head, he needed a drink, and a attractive woman by his side tonight didn't sound like such a bad idea either. He dropped the robe, and pulled on a pair of jeans. Yes, he definitely needed to get out of here tonight. After slipping on a Tshirt, he grabbed his jacket and made his way through the long corridors, anxious to breath in the night air.