A/N: Uggh. Sorry, for the delay! I had a terribly inconvenient cold that completely annihilated all my 'productive' ambitions. This one is a little longer, though, so hopefully that helps. c:

Six

Victor set out the next morning destination in mind.

Or he would have, if the damned kid would cooperate.

Being Jimmy's hellspawn, that wasn't likely.

"Get in the truck."

The girl glared at him, with a stubborn tilt to her jaw.

Time must have taught him patience because if James had been half as obstinate at her age, he might have killed him, himself.

"Truck. You. Now."

The little shit had the audacity to bare her teeth and growl at him.

He didn't get it. She'd followed him to begin with because he was taking her somewhere safe, and now she didn't want to go. She wasn't really serious about defying him because her claws were still sheathed.

Anything he could think of to threaten her with to get her moving wouldn't motivate her at best and would be counterproductive at worst. And after the sleepless night he'd had...

That left him only one alternative.

"You, truck, and I get you the most sickeningly sugary breakfast I can find."

Bribery.

"Pancakes. Cinnamon rolls. French toast. Meat." Victor continued his one sided negotiation. She probably didn't know what the first three were, but the kid seemed to be considering it. He'd found that she inhaled any sugar she could get her hands on, and meat was always a sure bet with a feral.

He got in the truck and waited, tapping his claws impatiently on the gearshift. If she still refused, well, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

He cranked it, and after a moment's further contemplation the girl climbed in.

A ways down the road, Sabretooth paid up. He briefly felt like one of those grandparents that pumped the kids full of sugar before sending them home.

The thought vaguely amused him up until the point that Laura started rolling the windows up and down. Incessantly.

Lucky for him, the truck had been built some time this century.

He turned the child locks on and continued driving.

Laura pressed the button several more times and let out a little growl.

Snikt.

"You stab it, all it's gonna do is put a hole in the truck. Ain't my truck, so, I don't care regardless, but stabbing it won't make it work."

He heard the slower hiss of retracting claws.

The kid was... pouting. There wasn't any other way to put it. And it wasn't because he'd told her to not stab the truck.

He didn't know what had crawled up her ass, but she'd been moody all morning, even more so since he told her where they were going.

She'd been quiet the day before, but Victor suspected it had been because she had nothing to say. Today, when he scented the air, he could tell that she was definitely giving him the silent treatment because she was mad at him, 2000 calorie breakfast not withstanding.

It wasn't like he cared, but the not knowing why rankled, and so, here he was trying to pinpoint where he'd fucked up.

She'd cried in her sleep last night, and it had been one of the most awkwardly uncomfortable moments of his life. Victor didn't do awkward or uncomfortable unless he was making someone else feel that way for shits and giggles.

He'd been content to let it lie, until she started screaming.

Victor woke her, knowing well enough to stay clear of her claws, but still narrowly missed being eviscerated when the girl came up swinging.

She'd cried for her ma after that, and he'd held her until she calmed down, even though all he'd wanted was to run. His instincts were screaming at him to take care of the damned brat, and he gave in and let her sleep in his space, while he himself kept vigil the rest of the night.

When she woke up next she'd been agreeable up until he'd told her he'd be leaving her with James once they found him. He knew that was the point where it went downhill, though, even upon examination, he didn't know what to make of it.

The kid started playing with the radio, and he focused on this newest iteration of annoyance.

Not like I really care why, anyway, he convinced himself.

Victor pulled off his sunglasses and glared at the skyscraper.

According to the meddlesome old cue ball, his brother should have checked in by now. So, he could dump the kid and hole up somewhere he could get a goddamned nap.

Based on the room number Xavier gave him, it looked like Jimmy-boy was on the top floor. The runt must have either conquered his fear of heights, or this place, as large as it was, was full up.

Once inside, Laura followed him into the elevator- at least that wasn't a fight. Victor pressed the button for the top floor, and she came in after him angling for the rest.

"No," he said, grabbing her hand before she could hit more than two. She glared at him for interrupting her fun, looking more likely than not to stab him.

"Wait 'til we get to the top," Victor relented, dropping the appendage.

The elevator dinged, signaling their floor before the doors opened.

The girl glanced up at him in askance, and he nodded once.

The look of mischievous glee as she pressed every available button before scurrying off after him, temporarily cracked through his swelling bad mood.

It was back in full force by the time Victor found the right room and banged just light enough to avoid having to pay up for property damage.

James opened the door cigar in hand and pissed-off comment on his lips.

Before the younger feral could fully react and get annoyingly stabby, Victor shoved the girl into his arms.

"This is yours."