A/N: Sorry, for the delay in getting this out! I've been working on later chapters and have been neglecting editing this to be post-able (and I ended up splitting it into two parts, at that). There are roughly 4-5 more chapters in this introductory arc, and from there on, the chapters will likely become less linear, and more 'a day in the life'. The encounter everyone is waiting for should start chapter after next. c:

Four

Why were kid's clothes so fucking bright?

Victor glared at the offerings- the small department store had smashed neon monster truck pants next to fluorescent unicorn shirts for an overall headache inducing display. And if he heard one more comment about how cute his cluelessness was from the saleslady to her coworker, he may well just goddamn lose it and go on a killing spree.

It would have been easier to have the kid here with him and tell her to just pick something, but it was best to keep a low profile in case they had anyone on their tail. What she was wearing now screamed "hospital escapee". Plus, the smell probably wouldn't help matters.

And he wasn't exactly eager to repeat the incident at the gas station, which had been about as un-low profile as it was possible to be. The girl had been cautiously curious when they'd stopped, and in hindsight he'd approached the whole thing completely ass-backwards like a damned rookie. Victor wrongly assumed that she could pass for normal long enough for them to get their shit and get out. He'd turned his back on her for a damn minute she had nearly gutted the clerk when the dumbass tried to make her pay for the pop she was drinking.

Victor had flung money toward the counter and jerked the girl along behind him.

"What the hell did I just tell you? There are rules you gotta follow."

He got her in the truck and got them out of there before the kid at the counter could gather his wits enough to call the cops.

"Sometimes, at least," he amended. He only followed society's rules when it suited his purposes, and the kid had to learn to at least play the game. "No biting, punching, or stabbing 'til I say so. We need to blend in. And what's your damned name, anyway? I can't keep calling you-"

"Can I help you, sir?"

Victor was snapped back to his present predicament.

Letting the loud-as-fuck salesgirl tromp up on him without noticing? He really must be losing it.

Sabretooth gritted his teeth and grabbed a small assortment of the least visually repugnant garments he could find, flashing his most charming smile and spinning a story about lost luggage and a distraught daughter.

This little outing highlighted why he was the wrong goddamned person to be carting around a kid. One misstep and all hell would break lose from one or both of them, and he was not in the mood. By the time he'd suffered through the checkout and made it back to his commandeered truck, Victor resolved to mark one more thing off his to do list before he got back to the hotel where he'd stashed her.

He checked the news on his phone- nothing about the lab yet. It was either as yet undiscovered or being covered up. That it was going on twelve hours since he'd found the kid, Victor's money was on the latter.

He flipped over to his contacts and hit send; the call was answered on the third ring.

"Hello, Victor."

"You still taking in strays, old man?"