Notes: Logan... is about where he was in the early X-Men days. He remembers a lot but not all of it, not his origins. K remembers most of her origins but not her time in the program, much like in the 906.

As for Clint... yeah, he's just darling and I can't stop him being darling and I won't stop him being darling BECAUSE IT IS TOO WONDERFUL.

Chapter 10: Kiddie Protection Services

Clint peeked around the corner to double-check, but yes, that was his mom, and that was Logan she was kissing, and he couldn't help but freak out when he saw it.

He didn't mind that they were in a school with Logan, but now — now that was his mom getting close to someone who could actually hurt her….

But he couldn't leave her, either. He didn't trust Logan at all, and he wasn't going to let his mom be alone with the guy when clearly, she had gone completely nuts. So, he stayed slightly behind the wall, watching warily until the kiss ended — not interrupting, necessarily, but there. Just in case.

"I think we've been busted," K said quietly, though she didn't turn her head.

"Lil' bit," Logan agreed before he raised his voice a little. "Think your boy'd want to grab a bite outside of the mansion — since Bobby's cookin' tonight?"

She tipped her head to the side and glanced over her shoulder to where they both knew Clint was hiding. "I think … we'll grab a bite just the two of us. I'll catch you later." With that, Logan stole another, much quicker kiss and simply headed off as if nothing had happened.

"Okay. I know you're there, Clint."

Clint poked his head around the corner and then shrugged his shoulders up to his ears. "Hi."

"You hate him, don't you?"

Clint paused for a moment before he nodded slowly. "We should just go," he said.

She gave him a little smile. "I am not running from this place yet," she said. "Has he done something to tick you off that I should rearrange his face for?"

Once more, Clint paused for a long time and then bit his lip and shook his head. "Not yet," he said slowly. "But… but he will."

"I don't think so," she said, tipping her head a little further. "But if I'm wrong, I'll be the first to admit it."

"But…" Clint shook his head and looked down at his hands. "But you won't see it," he said quietly.

She pulled him over to wrap her arms around him properly. "What won't I see?"

"You'll just stay and stay and stay until he hurts you," he muttered into her hug.

She let out a little breath then gave him a squeeze before she tipped her head for him to go with her to her room. "That's not going to happen," she promised. "And let me tell you why." K gave him a little smile that looked a little too serious. "The bad guys chasing me down? They won't come here. Not from what I've been told." She gave him another smile that looked a lot warmer. "Mostly because they don't want to rile Logan or his friends."

"So you want to stay with the guy the bad guys are scared of," Clint said, his eyes wide. "Mom."

She tipped her head again. "What I didn't ever tell you was why those bad guys are after me."

"Okay," Clint said slowly. "Why?"

She leaned a little closer and met his gaze. "Because I was trained to kill him."

Clint stared at her, his eyes wide. "But… you… you're kissing him now."

"I didn't say I wanted to kill him," she said with a little smile. "Just that I know how. And … he knows I can too."

"But he can hurt you too," Clint said after a long moment.

She nodded. "He could, but he won't."

"You don't know that!"

"I know some of your old fosters did you wrong, and I know that you have every reason in the world to be cautious, but I promise you — on everything I can promise on — if he hurts me, he'll never be able to find the trail when I go."

Clint watched her for a long time to make sure that he believed her before he nodded, and then he wrapped her up in a long, long hug.

"And … if he raises a hand to you, I'll kill him."

At that, Clint tightened the hug and nodded. "Thanks, Mom."

As summer got into full swing, it was common to see the students who lived at the institute and didn't have a place to go home out on the lawn playing whatever sport came to mind. Lately, there had been some good football matches, though at the moment, the adults were watching baseball.

It wasn't even the start of the second inning by the time Kurt was in tears laughing at some of K's digs, and to Clint's surprise, Scott wasn't too far behind him either. They might have been watching the game in theory, but the topic of the earlier football game had come up… along with Logan's Canadian heritage. And K couldn't let it pass without comment.

"Sad little hoser trying to keep up with American football … at least those guys aren't trying to hug each other to death like they do in hockey half the time," K said as she snatched the beer right out of Logan's hand and dropped into the seat between him and Kurt. And Logan had no response other than to just stare at her in disbelief.

"Are you kidding me right now?" he asked, though he didn't even try to retrieve his beer, instead moving his arm so she could settle in more comfortably.

"Nope. Last hockey game I saw, there was at least half an hour of those silly little rink rats rushing to snuggle," she said, shaking her head. "I'm sure it's indicative of something."

"Not to mention the long sticks," Clint said quietly from where he was staked out near the chips and salsa.

"No, sweetheart - the whole point of the sticks is to trip the idiot on the other team that got too close."

"No, they hit each other and then everyone else hugs," Clint said.

"You know … I miss the way the Red Wings used to play," K said. "I seem to recall a beautiful fight on the ice that had a mid-air collision. Put half the opposing team in the hospital. It was beautiful. No hugs."

"Plenty of injuries in American football," Kurt teased. "Hardly a play goes by without someone being carted off."

"Yeah … that's what makes it worth watching. If I wanted soap opera drama, I guess I'd watch the Oilers lose," K said, shrugging, and only getting Logan to cover his face with one hand before he headed over to grab another drink.

"Or soccer," Bobby put in. "You know. Three minutes on a not-even-a-touch, milk-it-til-you-cry kind of injury?"

"Rugby is the answer to soccer," K said, pointing her bottle at Bobby. "Women's rugby."

"Mom could play the whole team herself," Clint said with a snicker.

"Oh no," K said, shaking her head. "I'll just watch that one. Not fair to get in the middle of a group like that." She looked up at Logan as he brought a beer over for Kurt and took the seat next to her again. She gave him a troublemaking sort of smirk and readjusted how she was sitting so she could lean on him a little better — and still continued picking. He was clearly doing his best to ignore her jabs, smirking and shaking his head whenever it was a good enough one to get Scott laughing out loud.

The group was in high spirits and enjoying a bit of the friendly ribbing as they watched the game when Jean noticed Clint leaning tiredly into the couch and offered to take him upstairs with a kind smile. "You must be tired…"

"No thanks," he said.

"Are you sure?" she said, looking like she was ready to scoop him up and carry him up all on her own if need be. "I can make you some hot chocolate too."

"No, I want to be here," Clint said with a determined sort of look on his face, rearranging the way he was sitting so he wasn't leaned over anymore.

But that was enough to have caught K's attention, and she made a point of reaching over and pinching Logan in the ribs. "I think this game's pretty well washed out. Thanks for letting me steal your brew ... "

He gave her a crooked little smile, though he did move away to keep her from pinching him again as he lifted up his arm for her to get up. "Anytime."

K smiled his way and then tapped Clint on the arm. "Hey, my team is winning, and I think we all know I don't need to gloat here, eh?"

Clint couldn't help but giggle at that. "Everyone knows better than that," he said.

"So let's head up before the whining starts," she said, lifting her arm to drape over his shoulders when he was on his feet.

Clint grinned at that and nodded. "Alright," he said, following her out into the hall while the rest of the team stayed to finish the rest of the double header.

You know he was going to stay here all night if he had to, Jean projected to Logan. She's got one protective kid.

Yeah, Jeannie, I figured that out, Logan replied. I'll talk to him.

Might help to leave the beer next game, she suggested.

Logan frowned to himself at that. He'd had an inkling, but having it confirmed... Is that what the trouble is?

Well, in his mind, you're tough enough to hurt her, and you're drinking — yeah, that's what the trouble was.

He weighed it out for a moment. I don't know how to explain that I wouldn't hurt her. Not like he'd believe a word of it. Especially if I bring it up.

Try explaining that you can't get drunk — at least, not like that, and not without trying much harder.

I'll do that, but even if I was drunk, that's not the way I go, Logan replied with a little smirk.

Jean couldn't help but smirk as well. Well, maybe he should hear a little of that too.

He shook his head and looked up her way. We'll see where it goes.

We all like her, Logan, Jean added, the smile obvious even in her psychic voice. We're pulling for you.

How lucky for me when I really don't give a crap what the popular opinion is, he couldn't help but respond back.

Jean raised an eyebrow at her. Well I like her.

You like the kid. It's in neon, Jeannie. Scott likes how she picks on people other than him.

He's fun, Jean said with a smile. Besides, they both know how to get you. You should hear some of the zingers he has that he won't say around you — yet.

He smirked to himself. I'll bet. He thought about it for a long moment before he nodded to himself.

He just had to figure out exactly how he was even going to get the kid alone for five minutes when he was so skittish around him.

It wasn't until Monday after Clint's classes that he had a chance to really get the kid to stand still for longer than a few seconds when he caught him and asked him to stop by when he was done with his lessons. Clint agreed, though he was wary by the time he made it to Logan's now-empty classroom, where Logan was reading.

"Whose class did you just leave?" Logan asked before he looked up at him.

"Storm," Clint said with a small smile. "She got me a couple comic books — I like reading those." He paused. "I didn't really… like reading before."

"That's a start anyhow," Logan said. "You're doin' fine. But that's not why I wanted to see you." He leaned forward as Clint nearly held his breath. "I got a couple things I wanna go over. For starters: I hope you know if someone worked you over, you should tell me about it, so I can take care of it."

Clint blinked at Logan in honest surprise before he looked down at his hands. "No."

"It's not a big deal," Logan said, trying to impress on him what he was offering. "I have a problem with anyone that hurts kids or women."

Clint shifted a bit more. "He's dead anyway, so it doesn't really matter."

Logan's head lifted a little at that, and he slowly nodded. "I had to ask. I know someone did you wrong, and it wouldn't be the first time I went after someone for one of the kids here."

Clint watched Logan for a moment. "Mom does that too," he said.

He smiled a little and nodded. "I bet she does. They never see her coming." He took a breath. "Might be somethin' about similar mutations — which I wanted to ask you about. What do you know about what she can do?" He held up both hands. "I already know. We talked it over, compared notes, and found we were more or less the same. I wanna know what you understand about her — and me."

Clint tipped his head to the side and watched Logan carefully. "I know… I know she can track and smell and hear well and …" He paused for a long time as Logan waited for him. "I know when the bad guys hurt her, she can shake it off. But it still hurts. I know it does, even if she doesn't say it."

He nodded. "It does," he agreed before he let out a breath. "Somethin' else you should know is that drugs of any kind really don't work on us unless it's enough to kill a herd of elephants."

"Okay," Clint said slowly, though it was obvious he didn't understand the implications of that one just yet.

"So," Logan said, leaning forward just a little bit. "Whoever it was that used to drink and work you over … that's not going to happen here. There isn't enough booze in the place to get me a solid buzz, let alone drunk. And ... " he took a breath and tried for a little smile. "On incredibly rare occasions that it happens, and I go that far, I'm more of a friendly singer."

Clint blinked. "You… don't get drunk?"

"Not without putting some serious work into it," Logan said. "And I don't like to get out of my senses, so it's really rare."

Clint watched Logan for a long time before he got to his feet and pointed one finger Logan's way. "Are you just saying this because you wanna get with my mom? Because it sounds like it."

"No," Logan said slowly. "I'm saying it because it's the truth. When you were brought in — when those black ops creeps darted her — it was enough to have killed everyone on our jet and their choppers. That's the only reason she went down, and I'm not entirely sure if it would have taken another one to do the same to me or not. But that's how the healing works. It cleans everything out. And I thought you should know."

Clint nodded slowly. "Okay…"

"I'm not going to hurt her. Or you," Logan told him. "And I wanted to make sure you knew that. It goes against everything I am." He shrugged. "Bad guys and supervillains are a different story."

"If you're lying to me, I'm going to make sure you never ever see my mom again," Clint warned him, leveling a finger at him and looking as serious as he could.

"I make it a rule not to lie to kids," Logan said, holding his gaze.

Finally, slowly, Clint nodded. "Alright," he said. "But just remember, my mom taught me how to hurt people and make it last."

Logan managed to smirk as he nodded. "She did. And that's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. What are your interests outside of Jean and 'Ro's classes? You got anything in mind yet?"

"I dunno. I 'm not really good at anything," Clint said, shrugging in a perfect matter-of-fact tone.

"You're good at fightin'," Logan said. "And if you'd like, I can teach you a little there too. If you're still in the school come fall, you'll wipe the floor with the combat kids when you get to it."

"If we're here that long," Clint said.

"And if not... wouldn't hurt to know more self defense anyhow."

"Okay, well, I'll think about it," Clint said, biting his lip and once more looking down at his hands. "I do like learning that stuff, but my mom's already pretty good..."

"She's damn good," Logan agreed. "I have a different angle, that's all." He stood up and tipped his head. "Keep doing what you're doing. 'Ro said you're picking up pace in her class. That's not easy to do."

"She's being nice," Clint said quietly. "I can read a lot better now."

"She ain't that nice if a kid ain't tryin."

"Hey, that's one thing I can do," Clint said. "I know how to work hard." He headed for the door and then paused. "My mom is really special, okay?"

"I know," Logan agreed.

"Okay, as long as you got that clear," Clint said with a nod before he ducked out, though he was wearing a little smile, at least.