Xavier stood at the front window witnessing the scene below him; he quickly wheeled his chair back as Hannah headed towards the mansion door. He had been so focused on his daughter and Graham he was surprised to find Storm standing beside him.

"Well, this development must please you."

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Slightly embarrassed, he immediately picked up a book lying on a table, thumbing through it unconvincingly.

"I saw the kiss too." She felt a little ashamed for spying, "I couldn't help it and I actually hate saying this, but they really do look good together."

The professor smiled, "He's a fine young man."

"Don't you mean to say, he's not Logan?"

"Really, Ororo, that thought was the farthest thing from my mind."

"She isn't going to forget him just like that and I don't even believe that Graham's charm will win her over. Although, I must admit I don't think it would be such a bad idea if it did."

"Well, I am just pleased that she's not moping around the mansion. This relationship has been good for her. She's concentrating on her music and finally more focused. I've actually been toying with the idea of involving her in a mission or two."

Storm was a bit surprised, "You think that's wise? Especially now, when she seems to be so content with her music."

"I would only involve her in very basic tasks. Like I said she's more focused. Her temper is in check, the headaches are gone. It feels like the right time."

"Well, I'm sure you know what's best."

Hannah made it to the top of the stairs and found Storm and her father conversing on the landing. She found it an odd place for them to be. Then realized that the picture window overlooked the drive and stairway leading to the front door. "Did you have a nice view from up here?" she said sarcastically.

They turned to find a very irritable Hannah glaring at them.

"I cannot believe you are spying on me. I'm not a child, father."

"I was reading, I have no idea what you are talking about." He held up the book.

She saw the cover, "Little Women? You can do better than that, surely." She turned to Storm, "And you? I thought we were friends."

Storm considered quietly bowing out, but quickly dismissed it as she saw the concern in the professors' expression. Only seconds earlier he had commented on her temper being in check. "Actually, Hannah, your father and I were discussing your mutancy."

Hannah barely thought of it, but knowing that they were talking about it led her to the wrong conclusions. "I haven't told him. He knows nothing about any of this. He truly believes you run a school for gifted children." She felt flustered as her words seemed to rapidly flow out of her mouth without much thought, " It's very disconcerting that you would think I would be that stupid to tell him?'

The professor remained calm, "I hardly believe you are stupid and I am quite aware that he has not been told."

His response surprised her but she was prepared, "I suppose you're reading his mind." She threw up her hands in disgust, "It's appalling. It's not right at all."

"I don't need to. Graham's intentions are clear and I trust him."

"Clear? Did you know about his ulterior motives?" She glared at him, wiggling a finger, "you knew all along of his interest in me, didn't you? This sounds so typical. You shoe Logan away and then immediately bring someone else around to distract me. Do you really believe I'm that shallow? The minute Logan disappears I will throw myself onto the first man that appears? You don't know me at all."

In comparison to Hannah's anxiety, the professor was very calm as he spoke, "I hired him to teach you, to be your mentor and I believe at your request. If you have a problem with this particular function I will discuss it with him, but as you just informed me you are no longer a child and any other business Graham Eastborne has with you, well, it will be up to you to handle it accordingly."

Hannah let out a huff, feeling somewhat defeated, "I will handle it." She gave him a disgruntled look and then headed down the hall.

Storm smiled at the professor, "Her temper is in check is it?"

"Obviously, I might have to rethink about her joining the team at this time." He watched Hannah disappear from view then turned to Storm, "What was that all about?"

"I think Graham Eastborne has Hannah's feathers a bit ruffled."

"Really?"

Storm smirked; the professor had a lot to learn about young women, "Hannah has experienced so much since she's come here. I don't need to remind you how quickly she became involved with Logan. Maybe joining the team would be a good thing about now. It would show her you trust her and give her some time away from Graham."

"I see what you mean. Although, I find that I quite like the idea of the two of them together."

"That's only because you want her to forget Logan."

"I suppose there is some truth to that. I will discuss it with her in the morning."

"I guess if we dealt with Logan's fiery temper constantly, Hannah's outbursts will seem tame by comparison." She smiled at him, "Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, Ororo." As Storm walked down the hall, the professor still felt concern. Hannah was still a mystery to him. For the most part, she acted as though she didn't need a father and he knew he was the only one to blame for that behavior. He had sent Logan away and he wondered if she would ever forgive him for that.

Logan stood on the balcony of the Madripor flat, slowly taking a drag off his cigar. Usually he would still be out prowling the bars and clubs of Lowtown, but it was a quiet Tuesday night. 3 bar fights, a drug deal gone bad and a whore being cheated out of her pay: all taken care of in record time. He downed a few beers with some of the regulars, had an offer from one of the ladies, which he contemplated, then headed back early. After 2 months he was falling back into a routine. It had been easy. Yukio was pleased with his return, Amiko ecstatic to have the only father figure she knew back in her life and the city's police thrilled to know Patch, his Madripor alter ego, was back to keep the crime at bay in the city. Too bad he couldn't feel the same enthusiasm. It might have been easy to slide back into it but it didn't mean he particularly liked it.

The balmy night air was stifling, he puffed on the cigar, and wondered if he was going to have another restless night, when two arms encircled his waste lovingly, "Come to bed, Logan."

He didn't turn to face her, continued gazing out into the brightly lit city. "Not tired." He mumbled.

"Amiko will expect you up and having breakfast with her before school and I know you haven't been sleeping."

"I won't disappoint her. Just cause I can't sleep doesn't mean I won't be up."

Yukio was only too aware of the reality of the situation. He returned distant. The only time he showed any emotion was when he was with Amiko. Every morning he had breakfast with her, helped her with homework in the afternoon and managed to read to her before he stepped out every night. Yukio knew not to push him but she was starting to feel a little agitated by it all.

"What's going on with you?" She pulled away from him, throwing her hands up into the air, "You show up here, no explanation. Act like you never left. You're physically in my bed every night but you might as well be back in fucking America, or maybe that is where you are mentally." She stopped and glared at him, her hands on her hips, "Who is she?"

He turned abruptly, "Don't push it, Yukio. This is my place."

"Really? Amiko and I would never know it, the amount of time you spend here."

"I'm here now aren't I?" At that point, he really wished he was somewhere else.

"Like I said, physically yes but your head is somewhere else. This is so unfair to her, Logan. She's a child, you keep leaving, what kind of message is that sending?"

"Amiko has no problem with what I do. She gets it. You're the grown up here, if she doesn't have a problem with it you shouldn't either."

"What do you know about child psychology and the effect this is having on her?"

"This is your bullshit, you have the problem. And don't forget you offered to look after her, so what was the ulterior motive there?" He stubbed the cigar out on his hand and winced as the burn penetrated his skin, wiggling his fingers he then watched it fade. "And I must say, you're getting a damn good deal. A roof over your head, food on the table and me in your bed. Isn't that what this is all about? Wasn't that the clincher on this deal?"

"You're disgusting, you know that?"

"You bet I am. Isn't that part of the attraction, darling?" he snarled.

"Since you've been back, you just seem to be going through the motions. It didn't used to be like this, Logan."

"Well, hell, if you don't like it, I'll stop altogether. No skin off my teeth." He picked up a beer on the table and took a swig, nonchalantly.

"Why are you doing this, Logan? This has to be about a woman. Someone you left in the states."

"This is me, darlin'. Take it or leave it."

He heard the creaking floor boards in the hallway and pushed Yukio to the side. Looking past her, Amiko stood rubbing her eyes, and pushing her straight black hair away from her face. At 12 she was becoming quite the beauty, but the childlike innocence was still there

She spoke sleepily, "Why are you always fighting?" The disappointment was clear in her voice.

"No, not fighting, just discussing. We'll keep our voices down, now you need to get back to bed." Logan's agitation now gone.

Yukio disgusted with him didn't let up, "Why don't you tell her the truth, since you believe she is so understanding of this situation. I'm sure she'd love to know why you came back."

He turned to Yukio, "Enough." He looked back at Amiko, "I can tell you anything you want to know, but tomorrow once you've had a good night's sleep. Don't you have a history test first thing?"

Amiko nodded. Logan approached her, placing his hands on her shoulders and turning her around so she was facing the hallway. "I know about fighting, Logan and arguments between men and women and they are mostly about sex. I've grown up a lot since you've been gone. So don't think you can hide stuff from me."

Logan gave Yukio a dirty look as she leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest. "Don't look at me that way, Logan. She's your responsibility. Maybe if you were around more you could have delayed the inevitable. But unlike you most of us grow up."

These words hit him hard. It was a low blow. He was ready to explode but instead escorted Amiko back to her room.

Letting out a sigh, she got into bed and grunted, "Why do you come back if you hate it so much? Yukio says sometimes it would be better if you just left us alone."

"So you feel that way too?"

"No, I like when you come back. But I know about the Xmen, I read about them and it has to be exciting, not like this place. And all you do is fight with Yukio. I wouldn't blame you if you never came back."

"I come back for you."

She looked up at him with pleading eyes, "Then take me to America. Why can't we live there?"

He sat on the edge of the bed, patting her leg, "It's not safe. Not safe for you to be associated with me. You're safe here."

"It doesn't make sense, being safe with gangsters and prostitutes and drug dealers."

"You have grown up since I've been gone."

"I know about all those people and I know that this is a bad town. Yukio tells me a lot of things."

"Things you're too young to know. You're still a kid. Don't you want to enjoy being a kid? Do normal things like your friends?"

"I'm not normal. I live with my foster father's girlfriend, you're always away, she's always moping around. I don't have a family."

"That's not true. You always have me. You know how to get in touch with me when I'm gone and I'd be here in a flash…"

"…If something was wrong."

"Nothings wrong now and I'm here." He started to pull her cover up over her and she pushed it back, scowling.

"That's what you say but I don't know if it's true. Usually we know when you're coming. Is Yukio right, is there someone in America?" She now sat up, her eyes wide, "is she a model, like in the magazines? I bet she's beautiful."

He laughed as he gently pushed her back onto the pillows, "You've got an over active imagination, kid."

"I just think it would be nice, you know. You and this beautiful woman, and me living in a big old house with a huge porch sipping lemonade. And there would be big trees with a tire swing."

"You watch too many movies."

"There'd be a baby too. When you're in love you have babies…maybe more than one." She began to sit up again, excited and Logan caught her pushing her back.

"Now that's where the story ends…babies…me with babies? I don't think so. Now go to sleep."

"Well, they would look like her, of course."

Logan furrowed his brow and stared off into the distance, thinking of Hannah.

"Is she pretty, Logan? Tell me what she looks like."

He snapped out of his daze, "Who?"

"The woman in America. You can't fool me. She's real, I know it. You're different. You space out a lot, like you're not here and you never used to do that. Sometimes I talk to you and you don't hear me."

"I'm sure you're exaggerating. I can hear everything."

"I know. That's why it's weird. You can usually hear when I whisper, so you see, you are different."

"Not so much. Just distracted with work."

She let out a sigh, "I just think it's sad. If you love someone you should be with her."

Logan desperately wanted this conversation to end. How could a 12 year old be so observant? "Well, I am with the person I love…you." He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

Turning onto her side, she let out another sigh, "That is just silly." She pulled the covers up, "Will you let me go to bed now."

"Wisest thing you said all night." He gave her another kiss and headed towards the door.

"Logan."

He turned, her face looking very serious, "I just want you to be happy. I think it would be nice if you had a beautiful lady to love."

"Don't let Yukio hear you say that."

She curled back onto her side, "Goodnight, Logan."

"Goodnight, kid."

He walked past his bedroom, Yukio was pulling the covers down. She turned and they exchanged a glance but nothing was said. He walked on, grabbed a pillow from the linen cupboard and threw it on the couch. Another restless night seemed eminent.

Hannah went to her room and went straight to the closet, pulling out a coat hanging towards the back. She immediately threw the coat onto the bed, revealing the old Pendleton Jacket Logan had left behind. She brought the material towards her face and took a sniff, his smell…it was fading. She clutched it tightly to her chest as she fell back onto the bed and began to cry. There were no letters, no phone calls. All she had was this piece of clothing and she was hanging onto it as if he would fade from her mind, like the smell was fading from the material. She was not going to let that happen. Not her father or even Graham could make that happen.

Her fingertips brushed against her lips, recalling the kiss. It was sweet. Graham was a lovely man, kind and gentle. They could talk about everything. She closed her eyes tightly, the jacket now pressed against her cheek trying to recall Logan's touch, his kiss but all she could picture was Graham. "Damn, you, Logan. You wanted this to happen so you could just disappear but I haven't given up on you…" She lifted the shirt up, scowling as if she was scolding it. Then she brought it back down to her chest, clutching it tighter than ever, "… even if you have given up on me."

Logan wrestled with the small space; the couch wasn't made for someone built like him. He sat up and reached for his backpack lying on the floor, hoping another cigar would magically appear. He was pretty sure he finished the last one earlier. As his hand dug in deeper, it rubbed against something cool and smooth. He pulled the object out and realized it was the CD player Storm had given to him when he left the school. Pressing OPEN, the lid lifted up and Hannah's name written in Sharpie pen popped out at him from the CD inside. The cigar was forgotten as he placed the headphones over his ears. Pushing play, he listened intently as the first few notes were played. He didn't even know what piece it was, but he recognized it as something she played for him before. The tempo was upbeat and had a dance like quality to it. He could almost picture her at the piano playfully running her hands across the keys, not taking it so seriously. She would be smiling.

Leaning back onto the couch, he placed his hands behind his head. Somehow, having this distraction made him forget, how uncomfortable the couch really was. With every note, the image of Hannah grew stronger. So much for letting go. What was it about her? He had asked himself that question over and over again, and now listening to her music, he still couldn't answer it. He closed his eyes as the music entranced him. He didn't fight the feeling. His body relaxed, the restlessness ceased and Hannah's smile was the last image he saw as he drifted into sleep.