A/N: Here's a little parable I think everyone should follow in life (with apologies to Jim Croce tho I think he'd agree):

You don't tug on Superman's cape;
You don't spit into the wind;
You don't tug the mask off the ole Lone Ranger;
And you don't mess around with Wolverine.

Chapter Six

A white-haired lady answered the door. The mansion stretched out in both directions, disappearing into the night.

"Hi," said Carly, peering beyond the woman at the lavish interior with fluffy chairs and intricate woodworking. "We're here to see Raven or Dr. McCoy. I had a card, but I dropped it outside the gate. I hope that's okay. I can go back and try to find it—"

"No, no, that's fine." The lady yawned. "Come in, have a seat over there. We didn't expect you so soon, or with a guest."

Expect? "Actually I'm here for him. I'm his ride."

The woman blinked like distant thunder, smelled like fresh rain. "Oh. Okay. I was misinformed. Please, we're a little disorganized at this hour." She shuffled off, stifling another yawn.

Carly sat next to Lance on a long bench, but then rose again. The women didn't even ask for their names. She must already know. Carly walked around. The wood-paneled walls held class pictures by each year. They looked like any class picture, except for all the strange-looking people, blue-heads, no-heads, floaters, flyers, distorted, invisible (someone had photoshopped an outline), wings, glasses. One of the old pictures from the 60's had the girl Raven from this morning…but how could that be possible? And the woman with white hair was a girl with white hair in one of them. And then there was a dude with razor talons coming out of his hands who looked ready to jump out of the picture and slash her. Carly reached out to the image, the famous—

"That's not my best side," spoke a deep voice next to her.

Carly turned quickly. It was him—the man from the picture. No talons, though. Sideburns, untamed hair, muscles harder than trees, anger oozing out of his pores. "Oh, hi, Mr…Wolverine?"

"Logan. Just call me Logan. And you are?"

Where the heck had she heard him called that? "Um…Wild Flower. And this is Bull Boy." Lance waved.

"Wild Flower. Bull Boy. Already sporting hero names, eh?"

Carly remembered where she'd heard the name 'Logan'. Yeah, they knew someone in common. "Oh, your friend Bucky says hi." Oh no—that wasn't it. Bucky hates Wolverine. "I mean—"

Too late. The giant faced her. "What did you say? You know that bastard Winter Soldier? Do you know what that man cost me?"

Logan made a fist but the talons stayed put. Damn her mouth! "I meant to say that he…um…I mean, I didn't mean to say anything!"

Wolverine looked ready to gash Carly to pieces. Five minutes and she'd already made an enemy.

"Logan! Stand down." Raven rushed down the hall.

Logan pointed at Carly's nose. "Who is this? What the hell are we dragging into this place nowadays?"

Raven held out her hands for calm but Logan was practically nose-to-nose with Carly.

"Leave her alone!" Lance jumped in between Carly and Logan, breathing heavily.

Carly had to grab Lance, wrap her fingers across his chest, put her lips to his ears before he went cow-wild. "Ssh. I'm good. Just relax." The raging bull inside him calmed.

Logan looked between the two of them, then turned away and stomped down the hall.

Raven approached. "What did you say to him?"

"I just accidentally mentioned the Winter Soldier and he went nuts."

Raven smiled just a touch. "Yeah. Pretty sore subject. After all, Bucky Barnes killed Logan's wife."

Carly gasped. "It must have been back when he was controlled; he would never do that now."

Raven's small smile remained. "You'd be surprised by what people do. Come, I have a more private place for you to wait while your rooms are prepared."

"Rooms? We can't stay. We've got to get back home soon."

Same smile. "It's almost 2am. We might be superhuman but we need sleep just as much as anyone. And you must be exhausted." Raven led them down the hall and into a library of sorts, lined with books and dark computer monitors and huge leather chairs and couches.

Carly had to admit she was bone tired. She found a comfy couch and dropped into it. Good a place to crash as any.

"This way," Raven said to Lance. "You're room is ready."

Lance turned to follow Raven. Carly's heart grew cold. He didn't even look back. Did today mean nothing to him?

"Over there?" he asked Raven. "Okay. Give me one sec." He turned back and closed the door, leaving him alone with Carly. "You gonna be okay?"

Relief flooded her. She nodded, and then jumped into his arms, kissed his lips and neck. "Promise you won't go bull without me, okay?"

"Okay. I think I'm just going straight to sleep." He gave her a big hug, lifting her off her feet.

"Okay. Sleep good." She broke the embrace and gave him a silly little wave. Lance nodded and headed out to follow Raven.

Carly slumped back onto the couch. Thoughts about Lance swirled through her head, about his arms, his smile, his touch, his kisses full of passion and desire. Maybe they could stay here, away from Hydra and his father the Governor and everyone who wanted to keep them apart. Their love—if that's what it was—and she dared not even think it—was pure and genuine, two powerful souls who'd found each other. If they could just get away from all this fighting and evil and everything…

A thought struck her. None of this mattered unless she could free her dad. Until that time, she'd enjoy these moments, but that's all they could be.