Krystal leigh word

Vampire in Bayville Krystal Leigh

CSC-201

12/6/2013

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 ............................................................................................................................................... 1

Chapter 2 ............................................................................................................................................... 4

Chapter 3 ............................................................................................................................................. 10

Chapter 4 ............................................................................................................................................. 15

Chapter 5 ............................................................................................................................................. 21

Chapter 6 ............................................................................................................................................. 25

Chapter 7 ............................................................................................................................................. 30

Chapter 8 ............................................................................................................................................. 37

Chapter 9 ............................................................................................................................................. 46

Vampire in Bayville Page 1 of 55 December 6, 2013

Chapter 1

Since the day she was born, Cheryl Davis knew she loved the ocean. The beach was

her blanket and soul, the ocean her path and heart. She surfed from the age of 5, but

traveled the world since the day she could walk with her Big Uncle Danny. Her life was

fantastic as it was. But some things couldn't stay the same. She was thirteen years of age

when she got thrown into the coral reef of Australia. Her thigh was cut badly, the blood

poured out of the open wound, beginning to mix into the water. It was about shark season

out there and she knew she was too far away to swim back without causing too much

damage. The wound began to burn from the salt. She needed the wound to stop bleeding,

almost pleading in her mind, stop bleeding... stop bleeding… The burn stopped as the gash clotted within seconds. The water had turned a

pinkish color so she swam back to shore. She was slightly lightheaded, thankful, but

freaked out. It was from that day that her brown hair held a strawberry hint and her eyes

turned burgundy… Five Years Later…"Dude! Cheryl! Come catch some waves!" His shout could hardly

carry over the waves. Her eye twitched from frustration. She hated that word, "Dude".

The last time she checked, she was certain she was a girl. Cheryl couldn't quite remember

his name, just recognized his scent and decided that his blood was pretty good. It just

tasted like water. For five years now she's had to feed off of the blood of everyone else

around her. She tried animal blood, but found it was disgusting. So, she just drank the

blood surfers spilled when they got thrashed. It was a good deal. She stopped their

bleeding and took what was left in the water. The Camelback strapped onto her back was

filled with different types, all from her favorite people, well those that were tasty. From

behind her, the ocean roared to life as it drew back and gained height. She caught it and

flew. The sea flowing around her, nothing could have destroyed this moment. Except for

the very strong and present scent of blood, causing her to lose her footing and wipeout.

When she finally emerged, she swam back to shore, following the scent. It was one of the

buddy surfers, Johnny. He crashed into the rocks, and banged himself up pretty bad. He

was close to the shore when she came about. "CALL AN AMBULENCE!" She swam to where he was, her special board, her baby,

following by the line attached to her ankle. He was bleeding profusely already and if he

moved anymore, he could permanently damage himself. But he can't stay in the water, she

thought. This would aggravate the wounds more. Some of the other buddy surfers went

over to see the commotion. "We need to get him out of the water!" They looked a bit shaken from all that red stuff

coming out of him. "But-" "No buts!" They didn't move, but stared at the mangled guy in front of them. "CALL THE FUCKING AMBULENCE ALREADY!" She tried as carefully as she could to

drag him onto her board. He wasn't totally unconscious, he grunted from the pain. Was

that a good thing? She started toward the shore and noticed that only a small piece of his

board was left dragging behind on his ankle. He's not going to be too happy about that, she

thought. The others were waiting on the shore. "Help me get him out of the water! NOW!" They jumped to attention and rushed to

help. They tried their best to be gentle, but no one's perfect. Johnny was laid out on a

towel, cut up and banged beyond belief. She grabbed one of the towels near her and

pressed it to the main wound over his thigh. "Hey, do crowd control or something." She stripped off the Camelback and opened

it. She put the tip of the towel at the opening and began filtering blood out, working up the


red bone marrow to make more blood, and keep it circulating. Needless to say, she was

working as hard as she could. She kept this up until the ambulance finally arrived. The

EMTs came and removed her hand from him. "We've got him now miss." She kept hold of the towel, soaked with blood. As they

wheeled Johnny into the ambulance, one of the EMT's, young but ragged, turned to her and

smiled. "You probably saved his life, miss. You should probably get checked out yourself.

You're eyes are red." She smiled and shrugged. "Oh I guess I forgot to take the contacts out. They're all the rage these days." He

smiled again and nodded his acknowledgement. Cheryl stayed planted in the sand until the

siren disappeared into the distance. The crowd of people diffused as she picked up her

camelback, her surf board, and the towel and headed for the showers. Inside the

bathroom, she looked at her now fire-engine-red irises. "Oh Damn. I'm gonna be feeling this for a while." She looked down at the bloody

towel, her eyes glittering. She couldn't gorge here but a snack wouldn't hurt. Her hand

hovered over the blood. Slowly, it began to separate from the fibers into a nice good sized

blob. She pursed her lips to it and slurped it up. After it was gone, she checked her eyes

again. They were brick-red now, but still red. She headed to the lockers and got her

backpack. She retrieved her keys and sunglasses, for good measure. I don't think they

need to see these, she thought. She headed out from the surf, clean, worn out, and

hungry. After walking past paid parking lots and cars trying to find the closest spot, she

turned to the beach houses. A buddy of her late uncle's, who has never owned a car a day

in his life, let her park her beautiful Mellony. Mellony was her baby, her pride and joy, and

Cheryl would never dream of parking her near the beach. She smiled as she looked over

the beautiful jeep. The paint job was her eighteenth birthday present from her boss. It was

a perfect beach scene. The waves rolling up on the hood while the shore line came along

the sides to the sandy beach with a small landscape of the city in the background on the

trunk. Oh yes, she was a work of art. Cheryl left the customary ten at his backdoor and left. Taking the quickest way she

could back home, she was wiped and drained. As usual, she parked on the side of the

house, not in front. Didn't want to upset the parental units. About to enter her senior year

of high school, almost top of her class and her parents don't even look her way. She

unlocked the door, and stepped in before slamming it behind her and sliding in the

deadbolt. Father was a workaholic and her mother worked on every committee she could

get her claws on. So of course they weren't home. The silence of the house disturbed her,

like it always did. Like waiting for the other shoe to drop, it just racked her nerves. She

walked down the hallway to the end, where her room was. There was an iron framed twin-

bed in the corner, a small desk under the window with a swivel chair neatly placed

underneath it. School textbooks lined her bookshelves along with the Classics of Literature.

Old clothes hung in the closet, never seen again and the walls were covered with surfing

memorabilia. She didn't mind any of it at the moment, as she dropped her pack and

crashed face first onto her bed, asleep before she even felt the pillow. At the Institute for the Gifted Youth, Cheryl Davis's save did not go unnoticed.

Professor Xavier sat at Cerebro looking at the new mutant detected on the screen when

Storm came up behind him. "Found a new one?" He nodded. "Yes, she's already gained some control, as far as Cerebro can tell." She met his

eyes with a very common as of late question. "But who will be going?" That night at dinner, Charles called the attention of the

table. "Cerebro has just discovered a new mutant today. Her name is Cheryl Davis, just

around your age. Storm and I will be gone tomorrow to see her, so I'll put Hank in charge."

The table erupted with small cheer at the thought of another student coming. The dinner


went on with the routine of every night, with the event of some dish being flung or broken,

Bobby trying to show off with the rest of the boys as well as irritating the girls. At the end

of the evening, Scott approached the Professor. "Say, Professor, where exactly does she live?" Charles smiled as he exited to bed. "Oh I forgot. Long Beach, California. Good night everyone." He heard the very

audible outrage of the students and smiled even broader. The next morning, Storm and the

Professor entered the hanger. The Blackbird was prepped and ready for takeoff. Storm

sighed before boarding. "Is anything wrong, Storm?" "No, but something tells me that this isn't going to be a normal trip." He smiled and

wheeled on. He took his place next to Storm at the controls and left without a hitch. They

were about a half an hour into the air when Charles turned to the back of the Blackbird. "Alright Kurt, you can come out now, we're about to land." In a puff of smoke, Kurt

teleported next to him with a guilty expression. "Sorry Professor. But I had to tag along. It's Long Beach! I've heard so much

about it and all..." Charles chuckled. "Alright. Besides, we could use you as a demonstration. To show her that the

Institute is a place of acceptance." Storm started flipping switches and descending. "We're here." The house was in the middle of cul-de-sac, a small house in suburbia. They

landed the Blackbird in a small park about a block away. Charles turned to Kurt before

leaving. "Stay in here for now, Kurt. We'll be back shortly." He nodded reluctantly as they walked

down to the small house. Cheryl was aware it was day, but didn't care. She was still wiped out from the day before.

Maybe I should drink something, she thought. She was about to grab hold of the

camelback when the doorbell rang. Who could be visiting at this hour? She heard her

mother's footsteps moving fast for the door. What if it was someone asking about

yesterday? She really didn‟t need her parents finding out about her abilities or any of the

activities she involved herself in. She disregarded the camelback and opened the bedroom

door. Down the hallway, she saw her mother standing in front of an elder looking man in a

wheelchair and a beautiful black woman. "Hello, I am Professor Charles Xavier and this is my associate, Ororo Munroe. We've come

to speak with Cheryl Davis." Cheryl's eyes widened. "Crap."


Chapter 2

Three pairs of eyes turned to her. She tried to think as quickly as possible, slipping on a

pair of sunglasses and flip-flops. She walked out of the room with a jaunty smile playing on

her lips. I know shit is about to hit the fan, she thought. Mrs. Davis turned back to the pair

at her front door. "What's she done now?" Her step faltered. Please don't tell her; please don't tell her, the

words running through her head at top speed. Charles narrowed his eyes in thought. "We would just like to have a word with her, if you wouldn't mind." Mrs. Davis looked back

at her daughter then shrugged. "Just keep it down, I have things that need to be done by tonight." She turned on her heel

and went into the study to work on more committee projects. Cheryl stood up straight and

let out a shaken laugh. "Um alright, would anyone like anything to drink?" She walked past them to the family

room. Charles and Storm followed. "No thank you," said Charles. "But we would like to talk to you, about your certain

abilities." Cheryl stood rigid and turned to them. They look nice, she thought. Giving a

heavy sigh, she took a seat across from them. "Um, if you're talking about my surfing, then thank you, I think." The Professor chuckled. "No, I was speaking about the abilities you used yesterday, to save that young man's life."

She stopped for a few seconds, stunned. "Wait…how would you know about that?" I can read your thoughts, Cheryl. She jumped to her feet. "Oh fuck! Crap! Shit! What?!? Davy Jones eating my surfboard! God Damn it!" Storm

mouthed the phrase to the Professor, as if hoping he would know what it meant. Cheryl

stopped in her rant. "Oops. Pardon the words but…what?!?" Storm leaned forward. "We mean you no harm. We would just like to open up an option for you." Her eyes perked

up. "Really? Like what?" Storm look a bit puzzled. "First, we would like to assess your power if you wouldn't mind." Cheryl stopped. "Um…are you sure you wanna see that?" The two guests looked at each other before

encouraging her on. She shrugged her shoulders and pulled out a sewing needle. She

pricked her finger and pointed right between them. Three high pressured spurts of blood

shot out and hit the wall with a spatter. The two were stunned at the oddity of such a

thing. Storm raised a hand to her cheek where a light mist seemed to be. Soon, the mark

was closed and done. The Professor finally responded. "You can pressurize blood?" She nodded. "Yup, but that's not all." She extended her hand to the blood as it detached from the wall,

the carpet, even Storm's cheek. It formed a nice round ball, floating before them. "In-interesting," replied Storm. "Yeah, I can regenerate, and clean all impurities inside of me." The possibilities intrigued

Charles. "Could you also control other's people blood?" "Yeah." "Would you show us?" She cocked her head to the side. "What?" "Could you show us regenerating blood on others?" She took her seat again. "Okay, you have an extra pint of blood now." Storm felt her skin. "I don't feel any different." Cheryl took the needle out again.


"Here." She went to the Storm and pricked the woman's forearm. With her other hand, she

drew out a pint of blood. Storm flexed her hand. "It feels a little numb-” She stopped as she looked at the girl. Her blood, her own blood,

was now formed into a glass with a straw, with the girl drinking it. She tossed the little ball

of her own blood into the glass but decided differently. A few more sips and she put her

blood back in. When the drink was gone, she stopped as if to contemplate. Then she

looked up with a shining smile. "Peanut butter!" "Wha-what?" Storm seemed to have gone pale. "Your blood," she responded. "That's what it tastes like. I thought you smelled different." "Smelled?" Charles asked in a calm voice. The girl shrugged it off. "Yeah, everyone has a different smell, just most smell like tap water." The two nodded, not

quite understanding. Charles coughed. "Well, if you come back with us to the institute, you'll be able to use your powers freely, and

without fear of people judging you by them. This is the reason why we came all the way

here, to ask you to attend with the others like you." She stilled. "There'll be other people like her," she asked as she pointed to Storm. "Yes." Her smile broadened as she jumped up and started doing a dance. "Yay! No more water!" She kept dancing, moving of the thighs, the shaking of the butt,

hands moving in circles, and fingers jabbing out into the air. The two looked a bit surprised

when she stopped in mid-motion as the Professor added, "You just have to get permission

from your parents." She put up her index finger. "Wait here please," and walked to the study where her mom kept herself prisoner. She

made sure to knock and wait for an answer, before opening the door herself. "Hey mother? I'm going to be gone for a…indefinite amount of time. I'll keep up with my

schooling." Mrs. Davis kept her eyes down on the project occupying her brain. "Alright, I'll tell your father. Have fun." She walked back to the guests. "Okay, it's cool." The Professor and Storm looked at her with compassion. "How long do you need to get packed?" Charles asked. She looked back at her room before

answering. "Give me five." They agreed and exited the house. Cheryl ran to her room. She grabbed

the camelback and threw it into her backpack along with the pictures of her and her uncle.

She looked around and glanced at her bookshelf, then proceeded to grab a duffle bag from

her closet and began throwing sections of her book collection into it. She hefted it onto her

shoulder with her other pack and exited the house. Storm looked at the girl and nodded.

She packs light, she thought. "Oh, and I'm taking Mellony," Cheryl stated. Storm put on a smile. "Oh, does your cat have all her shots?" The girl wrinkled her brow. "Cat? No." "Dog?" "No." The Professor skimmed her mind. "Your jeep?" "Yes, my lovely Mellony. Of course, she wouldn't need shots, but she's up to date. Smog

check and all." The Professor just nodded his approval. She squeaked with joy and ran to

her beloved Jeep, Mel. A few minutes later, and a few buttons on her keychain, she had the

car ready to go. "Jump in." Charles wheeled himself over to the seat, where he lifted himself in. Storm

struggled to put the chair in the back with the three duffle bags, backpack, surfboard,

snowboard, and other miscellaneous things. Cheryl asked where she was supposed to go

which they answered with directions to the park. She shrugged and followed along. When

they arrived at the Blackbird, she stared in awe. "You have a jet…sweet." Charles smiled as she spoke the last word barely above a whisper.

There was a poof of smoke before Kurt popped up.


"Professor! Professor! Is zis her?" "Yes. Cheryl Davis meet Kurt Wagner, a student at the institute. Kurt, this is Cheryl, she'll

be coming with us back to the institute." His smile broadened. "Oh! Vantastic. You're going to love it there. They accepted me, and I‟m the blue fuzzy

one!" She looked him up and down. "You don't look so fuzzy…or blue." He stopped and looked at his hands. "Hold on a minute." He clicked off the image inducer, reveling pointy tail and all. She was

shocked for a second before walking forward and feeling the pointy ears. "Cool." She backed up Mel into the Blackbird and joined the rest in the cockpit. Kurt turned

to her. "Uh…so, vhat's your power?" She lifted up her sunglasses, revealing her eyes to be a dark

crimson. "It's more of show rather than a tell. I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise." He sank back to

the corner of his seat. The time passed and they made small talk. While Kurt was clinging

to the arms of his chair, she giggled and joked with him, unaffected by the high speeds.

Finally, the Professor turned to them. "We've arrived, and may I welcome you to the Institute for the Gifted Youth." She jumped

up before he could finish his sentence and ran to the cargo area. "Hey, where do I park?" Charles looked at Kurt. "Would you show her to the garage?" He didn't have to think twice before teleporting to the

passenger side of the vehicle and buckling himself in. Cheryl nodded in approval. "You ready?" He winked. "Let's rock!" She turned on the engine. The lights turned on and "I Wish I Had An Angel"

by Nightwish blared out of the speakers. The cargo area opened. Waiting in the hanger,

the X-Men were anxious about who would come to join them soon. The guys hoped for a

really hot girl, the girls hoped for a gal pal. Beast hoped for someone with an intelligent

mind. What they didn't expect was the cargo hatch to open up to a jeep blaring drums and

guitar. The jeep revved up then bolted down the ramp. The group scattered, not wanting

to get run over. When the jeep came to a halt before them, the people looked at the front

seats. Kurt was whooping and smiling at the girl in the driver's seat. She wore a baggy

light blue shirt with long boy shorts. Her strawberry blonde hair, still crunchy from salt

water, was pulled back into a ponytail, her red eyes glitter in the fluorescent lighting. She

opened her mouth but nothing could be heard over the beat of the music. They signaled

her to turn down the volume. She turned the knob and repeated what she said. "Hi, where do I park?" The group looked at her, the tan, the salt water hair, the surf scene

on the jeep, and the surf board in the back. A collective sigh moved through them, thinking

of Long Beach. Kurt beamed. "Oh yeah, take zat corridor, over there." "Alright!" She waved at them as she drove off. Jean stared after them. "That's the first time anyone's brought their own car." The Professor came around to them

with a smirk. "She wouldn't leave without it." Down in the garage, Cheryl was able to park Mel perfectly

with ease. Kurt whistled. She chuckled. "This is nothing compared to the things I've had to go through back in Brazil." She reached

over into the glove compartment and retrieved a small spray bottle and cloth. She began

cleaning the hood as Kitty and Sam raced in to greet the new arrival. "Wow, great paintjob!" said Sam and reached for the lovely Mellony. Cheryl batted his hand

away.

"No touchy. I've just cleaned her spots." She looked past them to see one of the most awe

inspiring motorcycles in her life. It was supped up beyond measure, just like her Mellony.

She didn't even notice that she whisked right past them and began murmuring to herself

over the bike. Kitty loomed over her shoulder. "That's Logan's bike." She looked back at the perky girl.


"Logan?" "Yeah. He'd probably kill you if you touched it though." Cheryl raised an eyebrow. "Does it look like I‟m touching it? I wouldn't touch this piece of artwork without permission.

What do you take me for, uncivilized." Kitty raised her hands in mock surrender. "Sorry, just saying." She replied with a laid back smile. "No worries. I get the idea. So, where do I head from here?" The perky one grabbed her

arm and started leading her back inside. "Come on, you need to meet everyone else." Cheryl stopped and turned back to Sam and

Kurt before going inside. "If anything happens to her, I'll drain you to four pints of blood." They sort of looked at

each other, as the girls went to the foyer. The rest of the students assembled and started

crowding around, Kurt and Sam joined in. Kitty let out a giggle. "So, what's your power?" Cheryl looked at them and pulled out her sewing needle. "Are you sure you wanna know?" They nodded, so she shrugged and poked Kitty. "Ow! What the-” The words died in her mouth as her blood began to flow out like a deep

red thread, forming into a ball in midair. It formed into a tall glass with a straw as the new

girl put her hand on it and brought it to her lips, and drank. Time seemed to stop while she

drank Kitty's blood. When she was done, her eyes had turned darker, but not burgundy. "Lemonade! A little too sweet, but still really good." The crowd kind of twitched. "So," said Kurt. "you're like a vampire?" She lost most of her smile. "Do you see my tan? I worked hard on this tan, man." Most of the group snickered as she

leaned forward to sniff Kitty. "Yeah I thought you smelled different." "What are you talking about?" She touched the side of her nose. "Normal people smell like water. You smell like lemons, on a summer breeze." She took a

deep breath. "Smells nice." Kurt waved up his hand. "What do I smell like?" "You? You smell like toffee. Homemade toffee, made at Christmas. I want peanut butter."

Storm, who's standing on the corner of the room, twitched but could help but smile. Kitty

rubbed her arm. "Usually people aren't too open with powers like yours." "So?" she replied “I was promised freedom of expression. I‟m going to take it for all it's

worth." Storm and the Professor took her up to her room. She recruited Scott, who

smelled of something spicy, and Roberto, who smelled a little too rare, to carry up her other

bags. She handled her boards, no one else. When they reached the room, her eyes

widened. "Wow, it's so…white." The boys dropped off the bags and headed down for dinner. As

Charles was about to follow, he looked back at his new student. "Would you be joining us for dinner? You do look tired." She started unloading the duffle

bags. "No thanks, not hungry yet. Time change and all. Actually I need to make some calls." He

nodded as she shut the door. About half way down the stairs, his eyebrows drew together. "What's the matter," Storm asks. Charles just smiled and chuckled to himself. "Nothing. It

just seems that we will be having a very interesting time with our new student." Cheryl got up early the next morning, packed up Mel, and drove to the coast. That morning

as she tried to surf, she realized that it was really fucking cold up north. The other surfers

in their wetsuits laughed at the skinny tanned girl in her swimming trunks and bikini top, to

which she only glared back. At around eight o'clock in the morning, she stomps into the

kitchen, shivering to the bone. Bobby took a seat at the small breakfast table drinking

orange juice, listening to her ramble under her breath about the cold. "What's cold," he asked. She looked at him like he lost a few screws. "The water! It's fucking cold!" He smirked and shrugged. "So?" She walked over to him, her eyes wide with disbelief.


"Okay, what do you do then?" He pointed a finger at her soaked shirt, as it began to freeze. "Fuck!" She stormed back up to her room, leaving Bobby to giggle in his juice. Some of

the other occupants were woken up by loud cursing, but quickly went back to sleep. She

jumped in the shower really fast, and dressed herself in an oversized purple shirt with her

tan boy shorts. She picked up her cellphone and dialed a familiar number. She knew it was

too early for the shop to be opened, that's why she loved the answering machine. "Hey, boss-man, yeah it's Cheryl. Listen, I've moved to the east coast, and I don't know

when I'll be back. Just to let you know. Oh and could you send me a wetsuit, my size and

everything. I need one that can handle really cold water. I sent you all the information.

Alright, I'll talk to you later. Ciao." For the rest of the day, she fixed her things, made

phone calls, and set up whatever arrangements she needed. The next morning, Cheryl

skipped surfing, causing her to grumble in her room. The doorbell rang. Jean opened the

door to UPS guy with a package for Cheryl Davis. She signed for it and took it upstairs.

She stopped at the doorway, watching the girl grumble. "Are you okay," she asked. She got a low reply. Something about not going boarding.

"You got a package." Her eyes immediately brightened as she jumped from the bed and

grabbed the parcel. She set it down carefully then gave Jean a proper hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She let go of the now laughing red head. "Sure, no problem." She took her leave and straightened her clothes. Just think, she

thought. What would happen if I gave her a present? Cheryl opened it up. The wetsuit

was black and thick. It was one of the newest products from her sponsor, complete with

gloves and booties. She decided to try it on and see how it fit. Logan entered the house

from the garage with one question on his mind. Whose jeep was that? He was never one

to like four wheelers, but damn. The paint job alone was impressive. Every last detail was

state of the art, down to clearly custom made locks on the doors. He followed the new

scent up to the bedrooms. She had a curious scent, one of an old battlefield overgrown

with wild flowers. The sweet scent of earth prevailing over the hint of the bloody past. He

stopped at an open door. Inside, was a girl, no, he corrected himself, teenager, stretching

out in a black wetsuit on the floor. He couldn't help but look her over. She wasn't that

endowed, but damn did she have a body for her age. "And you are?" Cheryl craned her head back to look at him. The guy looked about in his

early twenties, blue black hair wild but managed. He seemed to have an animal feeling to

him. And his scent she couldn't quite figure out, just that he smelled great. She rose to

her feet and did a mock salute. "Hi, I'm Cheryl Davis. You must be Logan." He smirked and raised an eyebrow. "How do you figure that?" She smiled in return. "Cause you're the only one I haven't seen yet." He nodded his approval. In an all too quick

motion, she jumped in the air. "So you're the one who owns that phenomenal bike! Where'd you get your upgrades?" He

smiled a rare action if she only knew. "A friend." She sunk down and pouted. "So, what's your power?" He drew up his fist and unsheathed the claws. Her eyes shone as

the smell of blood hit her nose and extended her hand. His blood flowed along the claw to a

large bubble at the tip. Logan just stared as the glob formed and flew to her. She took it

and slurped it up. As soon as it was gone, she squealed. "Tastes good!" She soon began to mutter to herself under her breath, the words of "tastes

so good", "not quite know what it is", and "oh my God" were repeated until she finally

lunged herself at him and latched on for a hug. Logan, who has never been attacked by a

student, stood there stuttering fearing he didn't draw his claws back in time. "Hey, did I just-" "You just taste so good! It's almost orgasmic!" When she finally realized what she was

doing she detached herself and grinned broadly. There was a small scratch on her cheek

from his claws.


"Sorry, you guys aren't used to being open. I'll have to remember that." At that moment,

Storm noticed that Logan was talking with the new student. "I see you've met our new student." He turned to her with a flat look. "Yeah, no kidding. So what, you're like a vampire?" She heaved a great sigh. "What is it with everyone saying that!?! Do you see the tan?" A smirk grew on his

stumbled face. "No, not really." The smirk grew to a grin, causing her to blush. Storm intersected

between the two. "I just came by to tell you that you're training will start the day after tomorrow. We'll meet

here to get you started." She nodded with a smile. "Sure." Logan turned and started walking down the hall, but not before looking back at her

and flashing a grin. The blush deepened before she in turn closed her door. He chuckled to

himself all the way back to his bike. Along the way, everyone wondered if he was on his

way to horribly kill someone. Later that evening, Cheryl approached the Professor. "Um, may I speak to you, Charles." He didn't know how to take it that a student was calling

him by his first name, but for now he believed it to be fine. "Yes, how may I help you, Cheryl." She smiled. "I wanted to talk to you about decorating my room."


Chapter 3

Logan looked up from his paper and coffee to find a very happy Cheryl walk into the

kitchen. He couldn't help but look her over again. Her hair was starting to dry with salt

forming on the tips, her eyes were crimson red unlike the burgundy they were the night

before. She wore baggy clothing, which he was still able to see the swimsuit soaking threw

it. In her hands were several shopping bags. He smirked and raised an eyebrow. "So, where'd you go this morning?" She smiled back. "Surfing. You don't expect me to give it up do you?" He cracked his newspaper and hid

behind it. "Where did you live? Before coming here?" She laid the bags on the table before

unslinging the camelback off of her. "All over. How about you?" "I've been a few places." He looked over at her again. She was sipping from the

camelback, her eyes glittering at him. "I want some more," she said suddenly. "More what?" Her brow drew together. "Your blood, duh." It wasn't until a few moments did he smirk and sip his coffee.

"I'm on reserve." She sipped again from the camelback. "Reserved?" He let the paper drop. "I usually don't let people suck my blood. So unless you're dying, don't look at me like your

next meal." "Oh…" Her head was hung down, her eyes drooping. "Don't give me that look! It won't work on me." The sad face turned to a glare. "Hmph!" She stood up, grabbed her bags and stomped off. Logan smiled thinking she

looked cute when she's frustrated. He shook his head, ridding his mind of the thought.

Upstairs, Cheryl quickly ran into the room and dropped the bags onto the bed. She

searched through one of the bigger ones, from a home improvement store in town. Out

came several rather large sheets of plastic. She proceeded to take out an exacto knife and

cut out the parameters of the windows. She looked up at the top of the window and

wondered how she was going to get up there when Kurt teleported next to her. "Vat are you doing?" She jumped back. "Oh hey! I was just going to decorate my room." She looked at his three fingered hands

and grinned. "Wanna help?" "Are you kidding? Of course!" They moved her furniture out into the hall, making sure

there was some room to walk by. They covered the floor, windows, and trimming with

plastic and painter's tape. "Alright, go change and meet me back here." He teleported out. She took a quick rinse, to

get all the salt and sand off of her before dressing in brand new, pure white baggy shirt and

boy shorts. Kurt came back, dressed in a torn shirt and cargo pants, and looked at her, his

eyebrow raised. "Vhy are you dressed in all vhite? And you still have a tag attached to it." She ripped off

the tag and smiled broadly as she proceeded to take out twenty four small cans of paint and

pop them open. "Vat are you going to do?" She stirred them with sticks and looked at him. "This." She takes up two of the sticks and flings the paint on the walls. Kurt looked at her

with disbelief. "Does the Professor know about this." "He approved!" They start flinging paint all over the place, leaving no corner unturned.


"Okay, I want pi over two, and two pi." He looked at her like she grew three heads in the

middle of her forehead. "The whole room." He nodded. "Oh and could you get some paint on your feet and walk on

the walls?" Kitty's room was next door. She started to hear the banging when she decides

to peek over. She stepped outside of the door and saw the furniture. "What the?" She opened the door to see paint flying in every direction. "What's going on?" They stopped and looked at her. "Wanna join in?" She looked at the walls as her eyes lit up. "Hell yeah!" "Go get changed!" Kitty went and changed into old gym clothes before popping back over

and started flinging paint everywhere. About ten minutes later, Gambit, Iceman, and

Cannonball noticed that there was a massive amount of furniture blocking the hallway. "What the hell?" They heard laughing from the room next to them. Gambit reached for the

door. "Now, I wonder what's goin' on in here." He opened the door. A slash of paint flew at them

hitting all three in the face. Cheryl, Kitty, and Kurt looked at them for a second before

bursting into laughter. The boys wiped off their faces and looked at the scene around them. "What are you doing?" Cheryl waved. "Hi, I'm new and…the room was boring. Wanna join?" Gambit looked at the two next to

him. "I don't know about you two, but I'll be right back." Cheryl laughed again as they exited. "Sweet!" The boys came back and joined in. Kurt went around the top edge with the red

and dripped it down the walls. It looked strangely like blood. She approved. Gambit gave

a smirk as he picked up one of the near empty cans. "Watch 'dis," he said as he charged it up. It exploded, a shower of paint going in every

direction. She looked down at her clothes and decided that they were coming along nicely.

Bobby pointed behind her. "Hey look at that." The spray of paint left behind a silhouette of everyone in the room. "Sweet!" She grabbed another near empty can and shoved it at him. "Do this one next!" He took the paint and cracked a charming grin. "Haven't met anyone like you before, Cher." She thought about it. "I hope not, it would be kind of weird if there was another me." The painting went on and

on and on, for hours. Hand prints, foot prints, body prints, tail prints, splats, mists, strokes,

it was a multicolor candy land. At one point, Kitty walked through the wall, leaving all the

paint that was on her on the wall. Cheryl looked at it with a critical eye. "It's too clean," she exclaimed before she smeared it with her hands. Kitty went back and

pouted. "You killed my image." "I'm sorry." Sam was about to fly around with paint when Bobby yelled at him. "Better not knock down a wall, Cannonball." Cheryl turned to him immediately. "You knock down a wall, I'll drain you to four pints of blood." Kurt was walking on the

ceiling with painted feet. "I've been meaning to ask you. Vat does that mean?" She splattered more paint on the

ceiling next to him. "It's the minimal amount of blood an average person needs in their circulatory system. Any

less and you'd die." His spine stiffened. "Oh…" She flicked a splatter of red on his face. "Looks nice." "Hey!" By the time the paint was gone, they exited the room covered with color. Cheryl

changed and left her newly created clothes to dry, wearing only her bikini top and

swimming trunks. It's only paint, she thought. I'll grab a hose outside. She walked down

the stairs hearing the others fight over the bathrooms. She didn‟t turn at the sound of the

sitting room door open, and Logan stepping through. He sniffed and coughed. Who was


sniffing the house paint? Cheryl entered his line of vision wearing her bathing suit, covered

in paint, and heading outside. What was she doing now, he asked himself. He followed to

see her looking along the ground and along the side of the mansion. He leaned against the

stone railing. "What are you looking for?" She didn't even bother looking at him. "The…fucking garden hose." He twitched at the choice of words and went next to the stairs

and pulled out the long garden hose. "You mean this 'fucking garden hose'?" She looked up at him, her torso turning, her legs

extended, her back slightly arched, and her now visible tan skin glowing in the sunlight. "Yeah!" He turned it on and showered her with the freezing cold water of the north. She

smiled and cheered. "Yay!" Logan turned off the hose and looked at her. This wasn't the effect he was hoping

for. "Why'd you stop," she asked, the paint running off of her. He exhaled and hosed her down

again. When the paint was gone she smiled brightly. "Thanks Logan." She ran towards the garage, leaving a very bewildered Wolverine on the

lawn with the garden hose. Cheryl went to the garage and rummaged through Mellony's

trunk until she found the large beach towel to dry herself off. She walked back up the

stairs, the boys still yelling at Kitty in the bathroom. She put on another pair of baggy shirt

and boy shorts, after all that's all she had, besides a few "other" ware. She headed out,

calling out before she left. "I'm going to town! I'll have my cell phone!" Alright. I hope you find a good tide table, Charles voice echoed in her head. She staggered

and grabbed onto the doorframe. "I'll never get used to that." She jumped in Mellony and drove out into town. She stopped

at a grocery store and parked at a corner. She petted the lovely car. "Don't worry, I'll be back soon." She searched for hours for a shop who sold a tide table.

What's wrong with these people, she asked herself. The sun was setting and it would be

dinner time soon. She told Kurt that she would be joining the rest of them for dinner. She

couldn't be late. When she finally got back, she was frustrated and tired. She passed

several people on the way to the dining room, mumbling under her breath. She was one of

the first to sit down at the table and stay still. As others gathered, as soon as they looked

at her, they twitched. Her eyes were crimson red and they didn't go unnoticed. The

Professor joined and they began to eat. The plates were passed around as everyone took

their portion. "So," said Charles. "What happened to your room today." The five that helped her turned

to her incredulity. She smiled as she took a spoonful of broccoli. "I painted it today. I mean, you said I could paint it anyway I wanted it." He nodded and

chuckled. "I know. I just wanted to make sure nothing horrible happened." Cheryl poked and played

with her food, wanting something else. She looked to her left and sniffed. Berserker looked

back at her, wondering what she was doing. She skids over closer to him as she pulled out

her trusty sewing needle and poked him in the arm. "Ow! What-" The table stopped all activity and stared as she streamed out the blood into

her glass. Logan slapped his forehead. She had to do that here? She sipped at it and

shrugged. "Better than water." Storm chuckled and Charles smiled. Berserker moved his chair farther

away from her. "What?" Charles paid attention as her eyes turned to a darker red. She looked back at the

guy next to her. "You're very nutritious, but not very delicious." She proceeded to push her broccoli onto his

plate. "What are you doing?"


"What? You taste like it." The others snickered under their breath. Kitty leaned over the

table. "Why do you do that?" Cheryl turned to her. "Do what?" "Drink other people's blood?" The table was now staring at her, waiting for something. "Oh, I've just had a craving ever since I got my powers. It just comes with the territory I

guess." Kitty leaned back again. "Freaky," she mumbled under her breath. Everyone stayed quiet during dinner after the

little display. However, Cheryl still heard them mumbling and whispering to each other.

"Not going near her." and "Vampire, man." and "That's just weird." Berserker kept looking

over his shoulder at her and flinched when she moved her arm. Oh, she thought. I see.

She looked at the Professor and gave her usual cherry lip smile. "I'm feeling tired, Charles. May I be excused to bed?" He knew she wasn't tired but smiled

back kindly. "Yes of course." She nodded and walked out the door. It only took a few seconds after she

left before the whole room started talking about her. Kurt wasn't getting in the

conversation, and neither was Gambit. Bobby and Sam tried to talk about how fun and

outgoing she was to Kitty and the rest. Scott and Jean went on about being more accepting

of others and their abilities. The noise was reaching a ridiculous level when Rogue slammed

her hands on the table and stood up, grabbing everyone's attention. "What the hell is wrong with y'all!" The Professor raised a hand. "Now, Rogue…" "Ah'm sorry Professor but…Ah can' believe you guys would do somethin' like this. It was

her first dinner here with us and all you did was criticize her." Kitty scoffed. "Come on Rogue. You saw her! She drank his blood!" Rogue cocked her hip and crossed

her arms over her stomach. "Did everyone suddenly forget mah power now? Ah heard what every one of ya said and

you said the same thing about me! Ah'm the girl you can't touch without passing out! You

know what, nevermin'. Ah‟m goin' ta bed." She stormed out of the room, Gambit calling

after her. Rogue was so angry, she walked right past Cheryl listening in from the hallway.

Back in the dining room, Charles smiled and Logan worried if she would stay. She left the

hallway and went back to her room. The paint was still drying and the bed was propped

against the dresser. She looked at the top of the dresser. It was wide and long enough for

her to sleep on. So she grabbed a few blankets and climbed on. That night, she felt like

she could get along here. As usual, Cheryl woke up and went surfing. The waves were excellent that day, so she

stayed out longer. It was ten o'clock by the time she finally got back to the Institute. She

bounced as she jumped in the kitchen, expecting to see Logan, but found Rogue, the girl

who stood up for her the night before. She was seated at the table eating a pop tart with

orange juice, and reading Robert Frost. Cheryl stopped and looked back and forth between

the book and Rogue. Finally, Rogue put the book down and looked at the surfer at the

door. "What?" "You know he smoked pot right?" Rogue cracked a grin. "Didn't everyone." They laughed and Cheryl took a seat next to her. She sipped from her

camelback, only to find it empty. She frowned. "Aw, man." Rogue raised an eyebrow. "What do ya put in there anyway?" Cheryl looked at her camelback then back to her new

friend. "Juice?" The southern girl snorted. "No offence, sugah. But Ah don't think you're the type to keep juice on ya back." It was a

few seconds before Cheryl started laughing, and soon so was Rogue. Their sides were

splitting open when Logan walked in. He took one look at the both of them, grabbing their


sides, tears in their eyes, doubled over on the table, and turned around at the door. This

only made them laugh harder. By the time they were able to catch their breath without

starting again, they talked. They talked about the others, the institute, and good clubs to

visit in the future, authors and their complexes, and each other's gifts. "My power is no gift," said Rogue. "All it does is cause more trouble." Cheryl looked at her,

wondering if she was joking. "Wait, wait, wait. You can absorb people's energy, mutant powers, experience, abilities,

techniques, memories through the skin… Sweet! Can you imagine if you touched a wolf for

just a second! You could hunt anything!" Rogue smiled. No one was ever so enthusiastic

about her powers before. Her smile sobered. "Ya know, most of the others here aren't so positive about abilities like ours." She cocked

her head to the side, thinking about the night before. "What are you talking about?" Rogue sighed, blowing some of her white streaked hair out

of her face. "People don't go near us, sugah. That's just the way it's seen." Cheryl thinks about it then

shrugs it off. "They can think whatever the hell they want. I was promised that I could be myself, and

I'm going to stick to it." Rogue smiled. "But…" Cheryl continued, her eyes serious from what could be perceived as experience. "I

can't judge them for what they are. We're all mutants, right? If you really take a look at

us, in our DNA, we're really not different." Rogue gave a half smile. This girl was definitely

something new. She extended her gloved hand. "I‟m Rogue." Cheryl smiled back. "Cheryl Davis." They shook hands. Rogue looked her over with a questioning glance. "How old are you?" The girl sighed. The same question all the time. Granted, she stopped

growing around the time her powers kicked in, but it wasn't too bad being only five feet tall,

right? "I'm eighteen," she replied, a twitch in her voice. Rogue recognized it and backed off the

subject. I wonder what the others would think, she thought. Cheryl looked at the clock and

stood up. "I gotta go. I'm meeting PB-I mean…Storm? Yeah, Storm for my first training session."

Rogue smiled. "Don't worry, they shouldn't go too hard on ya yet." They agreed to meet again at dinner

before separating. She walked up the stairs, smiling at everyone she passed. When she

got to her room, Storm was standing next to it. The woman smiled at the girl she brought

back to the institute. She had to make sure the little Vamp was prepared for the outside

world. If her own students responded in such a negative way to her, she didn't want to

think about the rest of the human world. "Ready to train?" She extended a box to her. "Follow me." Cheryl took the box and followed her tasty teacher to the lower levels of the

institute.


Chapter 4

In the observation deck over the Danger room, Storm tried to think of what level would be

suitable for Cheryl's first time training. Logan walked in behind her and crossed his arms. "Has she come out yet?" She smiled. "No." He sighed, knowing what the problem was. "She didn't like the uniform did she?" Ororo began to laugh. "No." He went over to the intercom. "Little Fang! Get your ass out here!" Cheryl's voice carried out of the locker room clear as

a bell. "No fucking way!" "Get out here now!" Cheryl stepped into the danger room wearing the generic black

spandex suit with yellow gloves and boots, and she did not look happy. "What the fuck is this thing! It's a wetsuit! That's all this thing is! And it isn't even that

good, I mean this is so thin. And you want me to move in this? Oh, and the heels!" Logan

jabbed at the intercom button again. "Shut up, Vamp. We're going to test you to see how you fair with your powers in combat."

She stared at them for a second. "What?!?" "Use your powers to defeat your opponent." She pulled out her sewing needle as a combat

robot began advancing. It stopped a few short feet away from her, waiting for the go. It

looks like something from Star Wars, she thought. She looked between her needle to the

huge looming piece of machinery. "This is just fucked up," she said before dodging away from a huge foot. She dodged again

and again, never advancing or retreating. It reminded Logan of Whack-A-Mole. He

grumbled as he turned to Storm. "This is a waste of our time." She smiled back thoughtfully at her colleague. He didn't look

a day over 24 at the most, but she knew he was older than her, maybe even more than

Charles. "Maybe she doesn't know that she's supposed to defend herself in the process." They

turned back to the simulation to see her riding on the machine's head like a bull rider.

Logan pushed at the intercom again. "You're supposed to attack it, Little Fang!" She stopped as the realization dawned on her. "Oh!" She was knocked off of the thing, but quickly gained her footing again. She took up

a stance, still wobbly before kicking up and lodging her heel into the thing's neck. It

twitched before finally falling over, taking her shoe with it. She pulled off the other and

swung it around her head. "Fear my almighty high-heels! Bwahahaha!" Logan raised an eyebrow before laid his face

in his hands, better to hide his smile. She was finally able to get the other heel back by the

time Logan stepped next to her. "Not bad, where did you learn to kick like that?" Cheryl remembered when Big Uncle Danny

told her they were going to Brazil to watch an old friend of his in a fight. "Oh, here and there." He looked at the robot again, the hole sputtering and sparking. He

didn't want to ask how she knew where to hit it. He just didn't. "So," he said, turning his attention back to her. "What can you do?" She narrowed her

eyes and pointed at the robot. "Yeah I know, but what can you do with your powers?" "Oh." She straightened up. "I can do lots of things." "Anything you can use in combat?" She opened her mouth, but closed it and shook her

head. He grumbled again.


"Okay, let's see you make a knife." She looked at her needle, then back up to his face with

an innocent look. "I need more blood." He narrowed his eyes. "No." "Please?" He looked up as the doors opened and Scott walked in, dressed and ready. "Cyclops! Get over here." He jogged over. "Yeah?" Logan nodded to Cheryl. She pouted, not being able to get some of his wonderful

blood. She pricked Scott and drew the blood out. He didn't say anything, just watched his

blood form ball the size of a soccer ball. She began to mold it, first into a cylinder, then

flattening it and finally getting an edge and point. "Aha!" she exclaimed, holding it in her hand. Logan looked at it and pushed his finger

through it, the liquid swimming in shape around his finger. He cocked an eyebrow. She

glared back at him. "You didn‟t say anything about density." He sighed again. She was going to be a lot of

work. "Okay, can you levitate?" She knitted her brow together. What was with these people!?!

What did she look like? God? "I'll…try." She took the knife and flattened it into a plate. Logan shook his head. She

spread her hands out and began to push the blood out further until it was a thin red disk.

She put her foot out, and stepped right through it. She began to swirl the blood around. "Thanks," she said. "I learned how to make a floating puddle." Scott smiled. Logan didn't. "Alright then, condense it for me, Vamp." Cheryl twitched at the name again. "You know I already have a nickname, it's littleb… Vamp it is." The men looked at each

other, then back to her as she formed the liquid back into a ball and began squeezing it,

literally. "Squeeze! Squeeze!" Logan began to chuckle. "Do you need a laxative, Little Fang?" Slowly, the ball began to shrink and deepen in color.

Finally, it was the size of a tennis ball, shimmering scarlet and onyx. Her breath was

coming out in low pants, but she looked at the little ball with pride and accomplishment.

She set her eyes on her teacher and threw the ball at his stomach. It bounced off of him,

off the floor and back to her hand. He touched where the ball tickled him and looked back

at Cheryl. She was busy playing with it, making it bounce off the walls and ceiling. "Hey, Little Fang!" The ball flew back to her hand. "Yes?" He held back his grumble this time. "What else can you do? You said before that you could do lots of things." She smiled

again, a spread of cherry red. "Yeah, I can change my blood type, purify my blood-and that includes diseases-I can stop

bleeding, clot it and make it scab. I can write messages with it. Oh, and for some weird

reason, my blood is always highly pressurized." Storm, still up in the monitoring room,

sank back into her chair. Logan stopped her. "Wait, your blood is pressurized." She smiled and nodded as she pulled out her sewing

needle. "See." She poked her finger, squirting out three high projectile sprays. Logan, for the first

time since he met her, cocked his head slightly to the side in question, wondering, just

wondering, what the fuck. Scott watched the blood spray fly into the air as his own

complexion paled. She watched it stop bleeding and clot over before looking back at the

two males, their eyes twitching. Logan cleared his throat and pushed the…oddity?...of it

aside. "It just happens?" She nodded. "Yeah. I think it's because I have more blood in me than a normal human being." Logan

turned and started walking back up to the observation deck. Cyclops looked at Cheryl then

to Logan, and back again. "What do you want me to do?" Logan didn't bother looking over his shoulder.


"Stay with her, make sure she doesn't hurt herself." He left the two staring at each other,

Cheryl smiling and Scott twitching. Logan entered the observation deck to see Ororo trying

to stifle her giggle. He took his seat next to her. "I take it you've seen that before?" She nodded, the grin reaching ear to ear. "She's an interesting child, don‟t you think Logan?" He didn't answer, just looked out to the

danger room. Scott stood to the side, ready to jump in if she needed it. She cleared level

after level, crushing robot after robot. Finally, she started to waver, a giant mechanical

hand coming at her from the side. Scott stepped in and helped. As the session went on, he

was barely able to dodge one of the blades. Cheryl stepped behind him and raised a hand

to the small cut that had formed. It clotted and formed a slight scab. More came flying at

them, as Cyclops moved to get the right shot. Cheryl followed behind him, concentrating

as hard as she could. "Stop moving damn it!" For the rest of the level, she hid behind Cyclops. Logan smirked. "Looks like we found her level." Storm looked at the readings gained from the fight. She

looked back to him. "What are you thinking?" He stood up and headed down, showing something of a devilish

smirk. Entering the danger room, he stared at the two students. The two were completely

different. Cyclops, the senior student of the class, dutiful, takes charge, uptight, and self-

righteous. Then Vamp, the new youngster, laid back, smiling, friendly, and always willing to

listen. He almost laughed. Cyclops stood straighter as he advanced. "Before I tell you what you're going to be doing, let's hear from the Calvary." The boy

stammered as he looked at the new recruit. "Her powers make her more like a medic than a fighter. Maybe she should go see Beast."

Logan nodded. "Alright, Little Fang. Here's the deal. You'll spend half your days with Hank, then the other

half training here. I don't care if you're intent on healing the Devil himself. You're learning

how to fight." Her jaw dropped. Before she could retort, Wolverine turned and walked

away, calling over his shoulder. "We got a few more hours to go. Let's get started." They trained for hours, going through

the same levels again and again. Logan looked at the clock when he saw her trip behind

Cyclops. It was five o'clock. He pushed the intercom button. "Alright, that's it for today. Vamp, you'll go to the Lab at nine o'clock every morning to

work with Hank. Now get out of here." He watched as Cheryl shook hands with Cyclops

then proceeded to chop down on the dense ball of his blood. She stiffened and he pushed

on the intercom to hear what she was saying. "Milk! Milk! I need! Milk!" She fanned her mouth, tears coming to her eyes. Cyclops

looked almost insulted, but couldn't get over the horror of the act. She breathed in deeply,

eyeing the blood in her hand. Ororo looked over the controls. "What is she doing?" Cheryl took a few more gasps of air before shoving the rest of the ball

into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed. For a second, she stilled then ran out of the

danger room. She ran, tears streaming down her cheeks, unable to scream. She ran past

everyone to the kitchen. Gambit was grabbing a glass from the cabinet when she barged

in, looking to be in total distress. "What's wrong, pe'ti?!" She pushed past him to the fridge and grabbed the open carton of

milk. She ripped it open, not bothering with the folds. She chugged and chugged, rivers of

the drink running down her jaw. The carton tipped up, the last drops falling on her tongue.

She shook it, making sure there was nothing left. Gambit inched over, eyeing the torn

piece of cardboard in her hand. Her breath came out in low, shallow pants. "You okay?" he asked again. Her neck twitched as she threw the carton into the recycle

bin. She grumbled under her breath. Something about too spicy and not healthy. He

placed a hand on her shoulder. "Pe'ti?" She turned to him with a bright smile, her eyes a lovely shade of dark cherry.


"I'm fine." He drew an eyebrow up as she exited again and came back, wearing her usual

clothing carrying an iPod and her keys. "Where you goin'?" She walked to the garage door. "I'm going to find myself a tide table." His head tipped to the side. "I don' know what 'dat is, but good luck, cher." She smiled again before leaving. "I'll be back by dinner!" She walked by Mellony and petted her. "I'm sorry," she said, regret clearly in her voice. "But I think I'll use my feet this time."

She put her earplugs in and turned on the iPod. She danced and pranced all the way to

town, singing to the best of her ability. People walked around her as she started to sing

even louder. She took didn't bother to take notice of this. "Peaches come from a can! They were put there by a man!" "Look out!" she heard someone shout from behind her. She turned and noticed that there

was a boy on a flying skateboard coming at her. She widened her stance and braced her

arm up, catching the board enough for the boy to make a decent landing. He skidded to a

stop and tore off his helmet. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry! I don't know what I was doing! Are you okay?" She looked

at her arm then at the boy, then back again. "Ow! I mean, ow! You get used to them, but ow!" He stammered as he inched closer to

examine her arm. She wasn't crying, or wailing and she was, what, fourteen? "You know, most people would be screaming in pain right about now, but please don't

start." She sighed as she eyed the skateboard. "And did you know, that if you leaned to the right and kicked up a little bit, you could have

cleared that jump?" The boy wrinkled his brow and thought about it, now that he wasn't about to crash land into

another human being. "I think you're right." She laughed. "Of course I'm right. Don't question the genius!" He scratched the back of his skull. This

girl was definitely weird, and yet there was something familiar about her. He held out his

hand. "I'm Evan. Even Daniels. But friends call me Spike." She shook his hand. "Cheryl Davis. So tell me, do you know this town?" He scoffed, kicking up his board into

his hand. "Like the back of my hand." She smiled brightly. "Good! Where the fuck can I find a fucking tide table." He took her to a small surf shop

close to the coast. She jumped him out of joy, finally getting what she was looking for.

They walked out of the shop, smiling, when Evan looked at her arm to see the damage he

caused. The skin was tanned, non-blemished and unbruised. He poked her arm, to see if it

was covered by some miraculous make-up…that she didn't have time to put on? "OW! WHAT THE FUCK!" She grabbed her arm away, Evan still looking at the unmarked

skin. "You don‟t have a bruise." "Yes I do!" "No you don't. You don't have a mark on you! I mean, I have strong bones, but if I took a

hit like that, I'd have a mondo bruise." She shrugged. "Trees hurt more." The comment seemed random, but so true, so he laughed. They

walked a ways more, before they both looked at the time and screamed "Dinner!" He

looked at her. "Does your family have dinner at this time too?" She gave a short laugh. "Well, they're not really family, but yeah." "Where do you live?"


"Oh, I‟m new there. It's the mansion at the end of town. With the big scary gate." He

peered at her for a second, then noticed how this small girl had eyes the color of dark

cherries. "The Xavier Institute?" She snapped her fingers. "Yeah! That's the name." "Dude! I live there too!" She stiffly put her hand on his shoulder. "Can you do me a favor?" He nodded. "Don't call me dude." They walked on to the Institute, talking about boarding sports and

whatnot. They reached the front gate and punched in the code for the twisted iron to open.

As soon as the gate closed behind them, Cheryl pulled out her sewing needle and poked

him. Spike jumped away, rubbing at the red thread coming from his arm. "What the hell?" He watched it form and twist into a blob of blood floating in front of her.

She slurped at it, and his stomach sank about an inch. Her eyes narrowed with

contemplation before she snapped her fingers. The blob began to lengthen and curve into a

small celery stick. She sank her teeth into it, staring at her new companion. "What?" His eye twitched. "I…" He squinted at the small teenage girl eating his blood, before slapping his forehead. "I taste like celery?!?" She crunched down on the stick again. "What?" He let out an exaggerated sigh. "There's no way I can taste that healthy." She took another bite, looking him up and down. "Well, you board, and you look healthy. But it could use some peanut butter…" She looked

back at the school, a smile forming. "Come on, it's dinner time." They walked to the front door. The door opened as the whole

group cheered for their friend's return. "Welcome back bud." "Hey! Evan!" "Dude, how was home?" Cheryl stood next to the doorframe, watching everyone laugh and

greet Spike. The Professor entered the room with the same generous smile. "It's good to see you back, Evan."

"Thanks, Professor." The old man turned and looked at Cheryl in her small corner. "Come now, before the food gets cold." Cheryl walked past him. He smiled up at her. "Did you find what you were looking for?" She looked at him and smirked. There was just

something about him… At the dinner table, Rogue sat on one side of her, with Gambit,

Kurt, and now Evan sitting around her. They laughed among themselves. When a plate of

vegetables was passed around, Evan glared at the celery before passing it on. The day

ended and everyone got ready for bed. Kurt teleported next to Cheryl. "Hey, need any help with your furniture?" She raised an eyebrow. "Do you honestly believe that I can lift that much?" Scott and Jean decided, after many

minutes of debate of the right time, to walk over, shame painted on their faces. "If you wouldn't mind, we'd like to help. Because of last night." She cocked her head to the

side. What happened last night? Her fingers snapped again. "Oh yeah. Huh. It's no problem. I would guess it's a normal reaction. I think. Maybe…"

Scott walked past her and grabbed the end of the desk. "Hey, Kurt, you going to help or not?" Kurt glared at him before teleporting over. The

students helped bring in the furniture, but not before admiring the wonderful paint job

done. Many contemplated on asking the Professor if they could do the same. Spike poked

at the still gleaming white trim. "Why is the trimming still white?" Cheryl smiled. "Looks sweet, no?" Everything was put in its place before they said goodnight and retired

to their own rooms. Cheryl climbed into bed and started bouncing on it, reminding her of a

hotel in Hawaii. After about an hour of jumping on her bed, she turned out the lights and

stared at the glow-in-the-dark paint that was splattered on the walls with the other colors of

the rainbow. Now, she thought. This was a room.


Chapter 5

Logan sat down at the small kitchen table, the sun beginning to shine through the windows;

his paper opened in front of him with two pieces of toast next to the milk carton with the

top cut off. It was a beautiful morning, then Cheryl walked in. He stopped his reading for a

second to look her over. She was small, tanned, and in good shape. Her hair was still wet

and clinging to her skin. She smiled brightly when she saw him. "Morning!" "Hn." His paper cracked, standing on end. She bounced to the fridge, took out the orange

juice, poured herself a glass, bouncing back to the table afterwards. Logan continued to

drink from his milk, never looking over his paper. Cheryl looked at the newspaper, not

really interested in the front page. "You know, you should eat more." The top of the paper folded over. He looked at his quart

of milk in the carton, and his two small pieces of toast, then looked at her one small glass of

OJ. He raised an eyebrow. "Look who's talking, Miss OJ." She narrowed her eyes and grinned at him. "Okay." She stretched over and took one of the pieces of toast and started munching on it

like a squirrel. He growled, having his food stolen and raised a fist. Her eyes glittered

again. "Ah! Remember, you didn't want me to take your blood before, so don't give it to me."

She smiled cherry red. His hand unclenched and grasped the milk again. "Hn." The paper wall went up again. She munched on until it was gone, and he returned to

his paper. The toast in her hand disappeared, crumbs scattered everywhere on the table.

She sipped at her OJ, eyeing the piece of golden brown buttered toast left on the plate.

Logan was hidden behind the paper; her hand inched forward, he didn't make a sound.

She inched again, nothing. Her hand stretched out, the fingers just about to graze the

crispy surface, when Logan's hand came up and smacked hers away. She bolted back in

her seat, clinging to the beaten hand like a wounded puppy. The paper folded down again,

his eyes halfway between a smirk and a glare. Her eyes widened in fake innocence. "But, you said I should eat more…" The paper snapped back up. "Not from my plate," he gruffed. She glared out the window and pouted. A few moments

went by before her eyes returned to the golden buttered prize on the plate. Her hand

inched forward again, slower this time. Her hand was about to reach the plate. "What did I just say?" Her hand jumped back at the sound of his voice to slick back her

hair. "I don't know what you mean." She finished her orange juice before her head perked up

again. "Oh, yeah, I have to go see Beast in the Lab." She looked at Logan. He raised an eyebrow. "What?" "Where's the lab?" He opened his mouth to try to give directions when he saw her grasping

the table and looking in the air around her, as if something was about to swoop down and

take off her head. "I'll never get used to that." He grinned and snapped the paper up again. Charles… She

got up, shook her head around. She started to walk out before stopping and looking back

at the last piece of toast. Her eyes dashed between the prey and its protector, then bolted,

grabbed the toast and ran out. "See you later!" Logan tried to grab her but her small frame slipped away. "Cheryl!" She was gone, with the last piece of his so called breakfast. Cheryl ran up the

stairs and rinsed off. She recalled the information the Professor "gave" her and headed on


her way. She arrived at the Laboratory exactly fifteen minutes later. She knocked on the

door. "Come in." The voice was an older male, but gentle. The doors opened and she looked

around, no one was in there. "Hello?" "Up here." She looked up and saw Beast, Hank McCoy, upside-down on his bars reading

over something. He gave a toothy smile before jumping down.

"Pardon me, I do tend to enjoy a bit of exercise when I work." She looked at him and

cocked her head to the side. Hank spread out his long arms and shrugged. "The aim of art is not to represent the intended appearance of things, but their inward

significance." She smiled and chuckled. "If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change." He

stared at her smiling face for a second before raising one of his hands. "Buddha?" "Yup. Aristotle?" "Correct." They smiled again. "I‟m Hank McCoy, otherwise known as Beast." She shook his furry blue hand. "Cheryl Davis, otherwise known as Vamp. Gah." She turned her head out and stuck her

tongue out. "I hate that name." He chuckled. "Don't worry, you get used to some of them." She turned her head to the side again, her

eyes narrowed. "What?" She pointed at him. "I was just wondering…are you related to Kurt?" He stared at her for a second, not really

sure what to say. Then a smile began to form, than a chuckle, and soon he was clutching at

his sides from all the laughter coming out. She looked around, hoping to find some answer

to why the question was so funny. When he finally got up again and wiped the tears from

his cheeks, he patted her on the back. "You're not used to being around Mutants are you?" Her lower lip slipped forward into a

mini-pout. "Why would you say that?" He just shook his head. One would have thought that she'd run

into someone already. He pulled a stool near to his and motioned for her to sit. "Now, you've been assigned to come work with me. To help develop your powers more in

the biological scene. So I'd like to see what you can do first. Start with the easiest then

move up to difficult, alright?" Her brow squished again. "Are you sure you want to see that?" Hank donned his glasses and picked up a clipboard. "I know we didn't really get to know each other during the time at dinner, but trust me

when I say, acceptance is my creed. As a wise woman once said, 'When you find peace

within yourself, you become the kind of person who can live at peace with others." Her

smile was simple before she scratched her head. "I can't figure out who said that." He started writing on the clipboard and smiled. "Maybe I'll tell you one of these days. Now come on. Let's start." He rummaged over one

of the counters and picked up a folder. He looked over the contents and smiled. "Ah! I can see why Logan told you to come to me. So you can regenerate blood of any

blood type. Could you show me?" She cocked her head to the side. "What?" "Could you show me how you regenerate blood?" She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. "Why does everyone ask me that? I mean come on!" She covered her face with her hands

and let out a muffled yell. Hank just raised an eyebrow and tapped his pen. A few

moments later, she sat up, the cherry spread of lips present. "Better now." "Alright… so, are you going to show me?" Her eyes narrowed. "You have one more pint of blood." He nodded and scribbled on the clipboard.


"Okay, next please." She drew out her needle and poked him. He blinked at the prick, but

stared amazed as the tiny spider's thread of his blood floated into the air and formed a ball. "Fascinating! Odd, but fascinating." They continued through the steps, shaping it into

different glasses, then juggling it. Finally, she squeezed the ball into a tiny marble. With

the flick of her finger, the ball went flying off of the walls, crashing bottles along the shelves

and walls. The tiny thing finally rested back in her hand. Their eyes were still wide before

smiles slowly began to creep up. Finally, Hank took out a syringe. "I was hoping to get a sample of your blood. Do you mind?" She looked at the needle,

then back to her teacher. "Honestly… I don't know what will happen, but you could try." She smiled innocently. His

eyebrow quirked up as he disinfected her arm and punctured her skin. FOOM! The back of

the syringe flew off to the back of the lab. Two squirts of blood flew out of the tube. He

looked down at his bruised thumb. "Interesting." An irresolute smile slowly crawled across her lips. "My blood is highly pressurized. I don't know why it does that, but it is the only thing I

have no control over. Hence the flying mechanical piece." The doctor rubbed his furry chin. "Intriguing." He tried again several times, but the same thing occurred. The back flew off

to either land in some new elixir, or break something glass. When he was about to try

again, Cheryl stopped him. "Wait! Let me try something." She took the syringe and pulled out the back. The needle

struck her vein instantly shooting blood into the air. With her other hand, she controlled the

blood back into the syringe. When it was full, she pulled out the needle and pushed the

back on carefully. "See." She smiled. "All done." He grinned in amusement. "Indeed, that's something you don't see every day." He looked up at the clock on his wall.

Instead of numbers on the clock, there were the first twelve elements on the periodic table. "It is time for your class with Logan. Better hurry, he doesn't tolerate tardiness." She

jumped up and headed for the door. At the last second, she turned back and looked up at

the clock. "Heh, it's cute." She ran out, Hank laughing in his chair. She ran down the hall. About half

way down, she popped the small ball of blood in her mouth. It reminded her of the

holidays, but she couldn't figure it out. She put the notion in the back of her head for the

moment. In the Danger Room, Wolverine started setting up what he wanted to run

through. Vamp was the medic for the team, but she needed to learn how to protect herself.

Of course, from the look of things the day before, she could take care of herself pretty well.

The doors opened behind him. In walked in Cheryl with a smile on her face, and he could

see why. She wasn't wearing the usual uniform. It was the kind of uniform a student of

kung fu would wear. The shirt was a Chinese blouse falling just below mid-thigh, slits

coming up to her waist, black high collared with red trimming and oriental knots flowing

down the right side of her body. The pants were also black and wide in the leg but with

elastic around the ankle with what looked like silk slippers. The final detail, a gorgeous

phoenix embroidered on the front climbing up to her waist. She pulled her hair up into a

makeshift bun, tendrils falling around her shoulders. Logan's eye twitched. "What are you wearing?" She looked down at her outfit and smiled. "My uniform." He rubbed his temples. "No, you're supposed to wear the same uniforms as the rest of the new students. Now get

back in there and change." The fabric swayed as she cocked her hip to the side. "Who's going to make me? You?" His eyes narrowed down at her. "Don't tempt me." He soon regretted his words as a charming smile spread across her face. "So wait, you're going to follow me, into the girl's changing room, strip me-" The doors

opened behind her. "Who's stripping?" Kurt stood at the entrance, dressed and ready to train. Cheryl smiled

brightly.


"Oh, I was just asking Logan if he-" Her mouth was clamped shut by Logan's hand. She

glared up at him, and he glared back. "Shut. Up." He removed his hand from her lips. She breathed in deep. "But he has a different outfit!" Kurt looked over his uniform before raising an eyebrow in

question. He looked over Cheryl's new outfit. "Nice uniform!" He gave her two thumbs up. She giggled and smiled in return. Her eyes

leered up at her teacher. "See, someone likes my uniform." He responded with the usual grumbling under his breath.

With tension riding high on his back, he stood between them, arms crossed over his built

chest. "Alright, say hi to your new partner." Cheryl and Kurt looked at each other before cheering

in sync. "Awesome!" "Enough! Now get ready, we're going to be here for a while." Logan turned and walked up

to the control room. The blue fuzzy dude grinned over at his new partner. "Wow, can you believe it? We're going to be working together." She didn't have the chance

to respond, as the room came to life. Logan turned on the intercom. "Alright, the idea of the session is to dodge. You two will be the medical unit in battle.

We're practicing your tumbling skills today. So, Elf, you'll be teleporting around the area.

Lil' Fang, as soon as you're feet touch the ground, you'll tumble away. And don't you start

yappin' about how easy this sounds. Alright, start." The first few tries were awkward to say

the least. Both Nightcrawler and Vamp tried to find different ways to teleport together to

make it easier. Nothing worked. After teleporting, she would either loose her balance and

fall, or completely wipe out on a flip from being disoriented. They repeated this for hours,

until she finally made a successful tumble. She landed, on one bended knee, her arms

stretched high in triumph. "VIVA LA POOF!" Logan slapped his forehead. The students laughed and played during the

rest of the session. Cheryl tried to do a summersault in the air, but failed miserably. The

day ended, and they all headed for dinner. The two teenagers talked about the training

with vigor, all the while the teachers talking amongst themselves. Logan kept looking back

at the small girl waving her utensils around with enthusiasm. He was surprised, maybe she

could actually learn something. The table diffused, everyone headed to their rooms. Cheryl

looked in her mirror and took a step back. Her eyes were burning red. "Wow, I guess it took more out of me then I thought." She undressed and jumped in bed,

passing out on impact.


Chapter 6

The days went by for two weeks with the same routine. Cheryl went to the Lab every

morning at nine to work out the fine tuning on her powers. After lunch she would make her

way to the Danger Room to work more on dodging techniques. Her powers were advancing

quite nicely. She was able to gain more control over blood properties, that is separate it

into two piles, one redder, the other more yellow. Her density control became better, she

was able to keep the knife and ball shapes. However, the knife turned out to be more of a

beating stick. Every time she would make one, she would test the sharpness on Wolverine,

who only looked at her like she was crazy. That's it, he wouldn‟t even bruise. Every

morning, she rose with the tide to surf for a good four hours before returning to the

mansion. However, one morning, she arrived to the white tip of blue froth rolling in with

the oceans beautiful bestial majesty. The waves called to her. Who was she to ignore such

a request? It was ten o'clock when she walked into the lab. Hank sat at one of the tables, going over

the samples she was supposed to look at. "So," he started, not missing a beat from the research in front of him. "Where were you?"

She broke out into a huge grin. "Oh Man! The waves were so perfect, they called out to me, spoke to my very soul…" He

rose from his seat and walked over to her, extending a thick manila folder in his paw. "Just like the samples on the table, I'm sure." She grumbled under her breath, stomping

her feet as she walked over to the table. She worked diligently up to the time when she

would be going to train with Logan, if Beast hadn't told her to keep working. "You took time out of my day to surf-" "Hey, the waves begged me to stay." "So you're staying until the work is finished." She stayed for another hour before Hank

smiled. "Thank you, Cheryl. Now you may run." She stuck out her tongue as she ran for dear life.

He sat there, hoping to god she didn't die from biting off her tongue, or Logan. By the time

she was out of the dressing room and to the main doors, she forgot to go through the back.

The doors opened before her, and there was the Wolverine, in all his perpetual rage.

Cheryl smiled at him, eyes wide, and hoping she would be able to run again if she needed

to. "Hi Logan." His eyes narrowed, focusing their gaze on her. She felt a slight shiver run up

her back. Was he cleaving my soul just now, she thought. "Where were you?" "Nice to see you too." "Where. Were. You." His eyes bored down deep into her brain, she couldn't look away. "Uh…Beast kept me." Logan raised an eyebrow. "Why did he do that?" She stood still for a second, her lips started to move but no sound

could be heard. When did he have such blue eyes? "I, uh… I was…. Um…." She blinked a few times before nodding her head down and looking

at her slipper toed feet. "I was late," she said. "Going to my lessons with Beast. I was late. So…" Wolverine

sighed. "So he kept you for the full session." He rubbed the bridge of his nose and let out a gruff

noise. "Great, well, let‟s finish it up here. Get out there and help your partner." He walked off,

leaving a very confused Cheryl. Why was she so suddenly interested in her shoe? Kurt


snickered at her. She lifted her head and cocked her hip to the side, pushing the blue eyes

to side for later inspection. "What about you Poof Man? You've been late before." He snickered again. "But not like that! Admit it, you're just a lazy surfer!" "Hey!" She snapped. "Don't dis the surfing." They finished the rest of the session with no

hitches. Logan left grumbling under his breath. Cheryl however, felt disappointed. She

changed and started wandering around the institute. A place so big had to have something

going on, right? Her feet continued to move until she found herself in the entertainment

room. It was a pretty decent sized room for the large screen TV, several game consoles,

two cabinets full of games and movies, and the large plush couch, that could easily be

turned into a bed. Sitting right in the middle of the couch, slouched so his chin was

touching his chest, was Evan, remote in hand. He flipped through the channels again as

Cheryl plopped down next to him. He glanced at her then back to the screen. She sighed

heavily as she twiddled her thumbs. "I'm bored." Evan looked over at her. "Didn't you just come out of training?" "Yup." "With Logan?" "Oh yeah." She stared at her thumbs as she started to thumb wrestle herself. He stared at

her for a minute. The girl was obviously crazy. "You were just in training…" "But I'm bored!" She pinned one of her thumbs. "Aha! I got you!" The thumb escaped from under her grasp. "Ooo, you're good…" She

stopped and looked over at Evan. He stopped flipping to stare at her like he was wondering

when the second head grew. She smiled broadly as an idea popped up. "Wanna play a game?" Her smile quirked evilly at him. He twitched at the action. "Sure…?" Kurt poofed in above them, excited as he could be after exhaustion. "A game? Really?" The door opened behind them. Rogue entered expecting Evan to be

flipping channels, instead she found Evan and Kurt staring at Cheryl. "What's goin' on?" Kurt jumped over the couch to greet his sister. "Ve're goin' to play a game!" Rogue pushed her brother aside and looked at Cheryl. She

had a glint in her eye that spoke of trouble and fun. "What is it, sugar?" "Let's play Frisbee tag!" The three looked at her, trying to figure out what “frisbee tag”

was. "I have heard of frisbee," said Kurt. "And tag, but not frisbee tag." Cheryl smiled her

cherry red grin. "If you've got frisbees I can show you how to play frisbee tag." They headed out to the

backyard. Several of the other students looked at the strange group collected together as

they passed by the halls. They reached the back door when they heard a very familiar

voice. "Hey guys!" They looked at the doorway to find their resident Cajun. Cheryl was more than

happy to recruit another friend for the slaughter. "What are you guys‟ doin'…hey! What do you think you're doing?" She looped her arm

though his and started dragging him outside. "You're coming to play with us." They walked to the edge of the woods, sending Kurt to get

the frisbees. "We'll need three of them. Find green one‟s if you can!" Gambit quirked an eyebrow. "So, what are we doin' here, peti?" "I'll tell you in a minute." Kurt teleported back with three green frisbees. "This is what you do." She took one of the frisbees, bent it to make sure it could take some

damage, and threw it at Evan. It hit him right in the rib. "Hey! That hurt!"


"Then don't get hit! Let me explain. Think of it like tag, only instead of running all over the

place, you throw a frisbee instead. When you have a frisbee you can't move until you throw

it. When it‟s coming at you, you can catch it and throw it back, or wait till it lands then

throw it." Kurt raised his hand. "Yes Kurt?" "How do ve win?" She turned her eyes to the side and pursed her lips, like she was really

thinking. "The one with the most targets, that's you hitting someone else, wins. Alright are we

ready, let's go-" "Wait a minute, peti." She groaned as she looked at her fellow red-eyed person. "What now?" "Just a question, 'kay? What about our powers? There have to be limits right?" He looked

at Kurt as he spoke the last sentence. The fuzzy dude looked shocked. "What?" Gambit held up his hands in defense. "I'm just sayin', mon ami, that you might have more of an advantage that the rest of us."

Cheryl cut Kurt off before he could respond. "Alright, alright. You are only allowed to use your powers within a…ten foot…radius…?"

They stared at her. "Ten…feet. How are we supposed to do anything in ten feet?" "Figure it out." Gambit peered over at Rogue and grinned. "Are you going to join us, cher?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "Ah'm not playin'." He loomed over her, the grin still pulled lazily across his face. "You scared, cher? Don't worry, I be gentle." She pushed him back and thrust her finger

into his chest. "Ah can kick yer sorry ass any time swamp rat!" Cheryl smiled. "Alright, lovebirds. Let's get playin!" Rogue twitched at the term but followed on her

threat. The hours went by in the forest. The group tried their best to tag Cheryl but

nothing could really get at the veteran. Kurt tried several times to tag people by teleporting

ten feet at a time. That plan failed. Spike had the brilliant idea to block a frisbee by

shooting it with a spike. It ended up with a hole in the middle and nailed to the trunk of a

tree. Gambit saw this and thought he could do better, so the next time someone tried to

tag him he threw a charged card at it. Unfortunately, he charged it too much, leaving what

was left of the frisbee to crumble to the ground in charred pieces. Rogue got a hold on

Gambit and tried the same trick. This time, the frisbee didn‟t break into as many pieces.

Finally when everyone was awake, exhausted, and just ready to fall down, Cheryl tallied

down the points of who hit or missed. "Okay…seeing how I'm the only one that was not hit, and didn't break a frisbee." "Or me!" "Or Kurt, and I was the only one to not use my powers, so I win! Yay!" Evan looked up at

the girl like she was just asking for something bad to happen. "Damn man, this is almost like training." Cheryl still smiled brightly, barely out of breath. "Ah, this is nothin'. I could do this easily." The four stopped to look at her. Was she really

thinking clearly about what she was saying or just hallucinating from the absurd amount of

exercise. Kurt burst out laughing. "Yah right! I bet you couldn't do it for two weeks." She raised her eyebrow at the

challenge. "Oh really?" He grinned back. "Yah really." "Name your terms." The other three of the group leaned in closer. "Two weeks of double training with Logan." The other three grimaced. They couldn't

imagine the agony of going a second round with Logan in one day…ever! Cheryl simply

grinned. "You are so on." They shook hands and headed back to the mansion. None of them really

believed that she was going to take the bet, but come the next day…


"You want to do what?" Logan didn't believe what he was hearing. The petite strawberry

blonde surfer just asked if she could go around for another training session. "Why?" She merely smiled and shrugged. "I just want to better myself, you know?" He lifted an eyebrow. Did she turn into a

cheerleader? Did he actually believer her? Fuck no! But if she wanted to be worked to the

bone, he wasn't going to deny her. "Alright. Hey, Elf, you can go. Little Fang, we're going over the system again. Level four

this time." Cheryl winked as Kurt exited. Later that day, the other three nearly choked on

their food. Evan tried to think of the torture she must be putting herself through. "She did it?!?" Kurt nodded solemnly. "Yah. She just smiled and winked at me." Gambit laid a hand above his head and sighed

heavily. "Oh! My poor petit!" Rogue smacked him upside the head. "Shut up, swamp rat." He grinned back at her. "Yes, Mistress." He readied himself for another hit on the head until she smacked him in

the stomach. The rest of them laughed and continued with their lunch. No one saw Cheryl

for the rest of the day until dinner. She seemed out of breath and her eyes were brighter

but everything seemed fine. After dinner, Rogue caught her before she went to bed. "You're really goin' though with this?" asked Rogue. Cheryl sniffed at her. The southern

belle smelled sweet with a hint of bitterness. It smelled like… She took out her needle and

pricked her friend. Rogue's eyes widened, her breath caught in her throat. "No! Don't eat-" "Chocolate!" The surfer chic grinned broadly. "And not the cheap stuff they put on sale

during sugar holidays. What?" Rogue looked at the girl, jaw reaching the floor. "It didn't hurt you?" Cheryl laughed. "Please! Your powers only work on your skin. Honestly! Don't question the genius!" She

turned on her heel and exited to her room. Down the hallway, Magma and Cannonball

rubbed their arms where Cheryl pricked them. The next morning, Cheryl looked at the time and thought about sleeping in. Her hand came

up and slapped her across the face. "What the hell was I thinking?" She rolled out of bed and got herself ready. Her feet

trudged forward. She was more tired than usual, which would seem odd if she was awake.

As she entered the kitchen, she collided with something big and hard. "Careful, little one." It had a Russian accent and patted her on the head. She sniffed the

air. Bitter and nutty, she smelled it before. It smelled like…Columbia… COFFEE! Out of

reflex, she pricked the thing in front of her. The thing didn't flinch so much as question the

drawing of blood. Cheryl took a sip. "Ah…Columbian Supreme…with half & half." She cranked her head all the way back to look

up and smiled. "Hi, I haven't met you before." "I am Piotr, but you may call me Colossus. And you little one?" She took another sip. "I'm Cheryl, I'm new here. By the way, you taste great." "Thank you?" She looked at the clock on wall and gasped. "I'm sorry, I have to go or I'll miss the tide." The blood formed into a ball which she

swallowed whole. Cheryl smiled again at the big Russian. "Thanks again Columbia." She walked past. Piotr followed her. "It is Colossus." They stopped at the back door to the garage. She smiled up at the guy

twice her size. "I know." She exited the house and drove off to the coming tide. At eight o'clock she

returned to find Logan reading the paper with his miniscule breakfast, which she tried

stealing…again, and failed…again. She‟d get that breakfast someday. After eating,

showering, and dressing she went to study with Hank until noon. After a half-hour lunch

Cheryl walked into the Danger Room ready for a full scale, head on workout with the drill


instructor himself, Logan. Vamp and Nightcrawler trained their routines over and over

again until 3:30 p.m. Nightcrawler's time was up, but Vamp's was just starting. At 7:00

p.m., just before dinner, Logan released his student to replenish her energy. After dinner,

Cheryl hung out with people, her trusty needle in hand. After an hour of tasting people, she

gathered her friends to head for the woods to play Frisbee tag until they found new ways to

destroy all the frisbees. Then, at the end of the day, finally, she headed to bed and passed

out from her nearly twenty hour day. Cheryl Davis repeated this for the rest of the week, each day tasting someone different.

One lunch, she pricked Sunspot, who tasted like steak a little too rare so she tried to move

him into the sun to see if he'd cook more. Everyone was noticing her rise of appetite. Kurt

walked up to her during her lunch break. It was the end of the first week and so far she

was sticking to it. "Hey Vamp!" Cheryl growled at the blue fuzz ball. "Don't call me that outside of training. You know, people still think I'm an evil creature

from the dark depths of night." She brought her hands up to monster claws and hissed.

Kurt laughed. "Vell yah, I mean you have been eating more people recently." She punched him in the

arm. "Hello, people are still walking around here!" "Sorry, but… I have to ask. Vhy are you drinking so much? You never did before." Cheryl

stopped in mid-slap-attack. Why was she drinking so much? She slapped him on the back

and laughed. "It probably just has something to do with my powers. I mean I have been getting better

at them." Kurt nodded at the explanation. "Hey guys!" Behind them, Rogue walked up carrying two plates of food. "Ah didn't expect more than me and Bloodshot here." Kurt quirked up at the nickname. "Bloodshot?" "Yeah, when her eyes get all red, they look bloodshot." Kurt looked at Cheryl. "Can I call you Bloodshot?" "No! Why do I have to have so many nicknames?! What's wrong with Cheryl?" Rogue and

Kurt looked at each other then back at the petite surfer. "Boring," they said in unison. Cheryl grumbled at them. "Hey Little Fang!" Cheryl wanted to scream. Behind her, Logan was ready for the workout.

Rogue laughed as her friend scarfed down what she could. "Don't worry," she said. "If he's working you to death, it just means he likes you." The

surfer chic glared at her. "Yay me."


Chapter 7

Cheryl walked into the kitchen. She just worked another double session with Logan

and she was thirsty. She was halfway done with the bet with Kurt and knew that victory

was in site. Jean and Scott walked through the door, ready to take food out to the dining

room for dinner. Cheryl was still thirsty. And it was only growing, day by day. Maybe I

should ask Hank about it, she thought. She looked over at her two associates. Cheryl had

been at the school for several weeks now, yet she still didn't know much about the golden

students. She scratched her throat. She was really thirsty. Scott tasted like cyan pepper,

not the thing to help her right now. But Jean… She hadn't had Jean flavor yet. Before

either of the students knew what was happening, the small red-eyed girl pricked Jean and

drew blood. She slurped it up and grinned pleasantly. "Wow, I must say I am impressed. I mean I've had some good French wine before

but this I actually like." Jean was awestruck by the simple action. Scott was angry. Any

creature might see this as sensible behavior. However, this was Scott and Jean, sensible

does not enter the equation. "What's your problem?!" he yelled at the small girl. She blinked back at him. "What?" "We're just about to go eat dinner. You couldn't wait five more minutes to poke

someone else?" Cheryl looked between the two, and knew why he was so angry. As cute

as it was, it wasn't his place to get angry. "I was thirsty and I had yet to taste Jean." Scott gritted his teeth. "You keep saying that, but you know it only makes you seem more like a vampire."

A cocky smile jerked at his mouth. "You know what, I bet you can't last a week without

drinking blood." All the sunshine and humor vanished from Cheryl's face. "Don't you tell me I can't do something." Leaving that to soak into their brains, she

walked off to eat dinner. At the table, Charles noticed something heavy in the minds of his

students, mostly centered on Cheryl but decided to not put any pressure on them, but wait

and see. Over the course of the next four days, Cheryl Davis continued with her twenty hour

schedule. The blood she received during trained and other occasions out on the other

"training" sessions went into several jam jars. Each of the jars was classified by four

things: flavor, name, blood type, and mood. As her tasting adventure started, she realized

that the person's mood affected their taste as well. All of these jars were kept in an

industrial refrigerator hidden beside the wardrobe, away from the doorway. Every once in a

while she'd stare at the blood jars. The smell made her fingers quake, the urge to drink

stronger and stronger, but in the end, she closed the door and walked away. On the morning of the fifth day, Logan looked at the clock. It was past eight o'clock

and Cheryl wasn't sitting at the table next to him trying to grab his breakfast. Colossus

walked in from his early morning workout, Logan called him over. "Have you seen Cheryl today?" Piotr shook his head. "No, the little one did not greet me this morning." Up in her room, the little one

struggled out of bed, got dressed and headed to the lab. No one really paid attention to her

accept of saying good morning or hi. She reached the lab and smiled at Beast. "Morning," she said. "Good morning- oh my!" Cheryl's irises were the color of red light bulbs while her

whites had started to turn a light pink that were slowly getting redder. "What have you been doing," he asked, holding her chin to examine her. She

pushed his hand away. "What are you talking about?"


"Your eyes. They're bright red, even the whites are turning red." Her face remained

unsurprised. "Oh. Really?" Hank raised a furry blue eyebrow. "Cheryl, what aren't you telling me?" She walked past him and sat down at her

table. "I don't know what you mean." "Yeah, I've heard that before." She looked at her teacher and friend then back at

her work. "How did the students act when you arrived here?" Beast swung up to his bars on

the ceiling. The pieces were beginning to fall into place. "Pretty normal when you have a blue primate teaching you physics." She squinted

her eyes as she looked at the clock. "See, the thing is, Scott said that I was really starting to be a vampire and said that

I couldn't last a week without drinking blood." Beast remained silent, knowing where it was

leading up to. "Then what?" he asked. She continued to stare at the element clock. "I'm proving him wrong. After all, actions speak louder than words." He nodded. "Anything else?" "Yeah." She started twiddling her thumbs. "I also have a bet going on with Kurt.

Two weeks double training with Logan." The picture formed in his mind and mentally

slapped himself. "Cheryl, you know you need to drink blood. It keeps your body and energy up, that

same energy that you fuel your powers with. And don't think I haven't noticed you're

getting slower." She smiled cherry red as usual. "I'm totally fine, Doc. Really." She turned back to her table to begin work. Hank

swung down and started rubbing his furry chin. "You know, Elizabeth Dole said, What you always do before you make a decision is

consult. The best public policy is made when you are listening to people who are going to be

impacted. Then, once policy is determined, you call on them to help you sell it.'" Cheryl

turned around with a smirk. "Yeah? Well Ingrid Bergman said, 'You must train your intuition -- you must trust the

small voice inside you which tells you exactly what to say, what to decide.'" "Walter Linn said, 'It is surprising what a man can do when he has to, and how little

most men will do when they don't have to.'" "No person is your friend who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow.

Alice Walker." Beast raised an eyebrow, smiling a little at the challenge given to him from

his student. "Without darkness nothing comes to birth, as without light nothing flowers. May

Sarton." "Eleanor Roosevelt, 'People grow through experience if they meet life honestly and

courageously. This is how character is built.'" "However, Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, 'Judge of your natural character by what

you do in your dreams.'" "You cannot dream yourself into a character; you must hammer and forge yourself

one. James A. Froude." "'Chi Wen Tzu always thought three times before taking action. Twice would have

been quite enough.'" "You did not just throw Confucius at me!" Dr. McCoy smirked proudly as Cheryl

narrowed her eyes. "Fine! 'It doesn't work to leap a twenty-foot chasm in two ten-foot jumps.' An

American proverb." "Anne Wilson Schaef said, 'Life is a process. We are a process. The universe is a

process.'"


"Benjamin Franklin said, 'There never was a good knife made of bad steel.'" "Harriet Beecher Stowe once said, 'Common sense is the knack of seeing things as

they are, and doing things as they ought to be done.'" "And Albert Einstein said, 'Common sense is the collection of prejudices acquired by

age eighteen.'" "According to Will Rogers, 'Common sense ain't common.'" Cheryl put down her

papers and walked over to her blue mentor. "Albert Camus said, 'In the depth of winter, I finally learned that there was within me

an invincible summer." She gave a smile that he'd never seen before, one of warmth and

concern. "I'll be fine, I promise." Beast let it go. He wouldn't be able to talk her out of it

even if he tried. Cheryl went back to her work, only her hands began to shake. On

schedule, she reported down to the Danger Room. When Logan finally got a look at the

Vamp, he twitched. Even from the control room, he could see that her eyes weren't normal.

In Logan's mind, this equaled bad. However, she didn't tell him if anything was out of the

ordinary, except for the extra training. Maybe it was time to have a talk with Beast. The

training session went on as usual if you didn't count that Cheryl was lacking behind. Her

actions were slower and breathing became heavier. At her break, Kurt followed her. "Hey, what's up with you today?" Cheryl blinked a few times and smiled. Her whites

had turned redder. "I'm just a little tired, that's all." "But your eyes…" Rogue bumped into them at the kitchen and stopped. "Bloodshot, why are your eyes bloodshot?" Kurt joined his sister. "That's vat I vanted to know!" She sighed and told them about the bet with Scott.

The siblings stood still in shock. "You're serious?" asked Rogue. The surfer chick nodded. "Ah'm gonna kill him! Ah'm gonna wring that pretty boy's neck." "What I do now, cher?" Gambit leaned on the doorframe, shuffling his cards with a

grin plastered on his charming face. Kurt and Cheryl raised an eyebrow and peered at the

Cajun. "You're pretty?" she asked. "You're a boy?" he asked. Gambits ego deflated a bit as he slumped over to them. "So then, which pretty boy do you wanna kill, cher?" Cheryl crossed her arms and

laid her head down. "Scott." "Why would you want to kill Scott?" Cheryl stayed silent, her head still resting on

her arms. Rogue answered with an eyebrow twitching. "Scott made a bet with her not to drink any blood." Gambit's face sobered as he

looked at Cheryl more closely. "Peti'?" She looked up at him, her red eyes staring hazily at him. "What? You wanna speech, slide show, tour, bra size?" The people looked at her,

trying to process what she was trying to say. "What?" "Huh?" "What did you say?" She rubbed her chin. "I don't know. What did I say?" Rogue waved it out of her mind and returned to the

actual subject at hand. "Cheryl, seriously, are you sure about this?"

"About what?" She grinned at her frustrated friends before getting up and opening the fridge.

"Look," she said, "I know what I'm doing. I'll be fine and I'll finally be able to put

Scott in his place." Kurt sat up in his chair. "Vhy are you really doing this?" She looked at him with a self-explaining stare.


"He told me I couldn't do it. Nobody tells me I can't do something. I say actions

speak louder than words. Besides," she added, dragging out leftovers from the fridge. "I

want to make sure they see me, not a monster." She started snarfing down the food while

the others looked at each other with worried expressions. Logan walked in and stared at

the group of students. Cheryl was eating like a starved man while the others looked like

they were waiting for cancer results. Cheryl stopped and looked at the intimidating teacher. "Can you continue?" he asked. She broke out into a grin. "What are you talking about? Do I look like I'm dying? Come on let's go!" Logan

sighed. Yeah, she's fine, for the time being. As she exited the room, she gave her friends a

very rare warm concerned smile as if saying, everything will be fine. I promise. On the

sixth day, once again, she didn't show up for breakfast. It was starting to feel freaky to

Logan. No one coming in with a smile, still soaking wet from the cold ocean, trying to steal

his "breakfast" He let out a disgruntled sigh that sounded more like a growl. Cheryl flopped out of bed. Her feet dragged on as headed to the lab. Beast looked at her

and cringed. Her whites were redder, and her movements and awareness weren't as quick

as they would be if she was drinking like she was supposed to! Hank McCoy wasn't a

violent man, nor a very angry person, yet somehow, he was getting very agitated. He

watched her perform her work with great difficulty-which would be nothing if she was

drinking! He sighed, her stubbornness and pride reminded him of someone. He didn't

know whether to laugh or sigh angrily. She did her work to the best of her abilities, which

wasn't much, and went on to the Danger Room. Her movements were even slower, her

breathing became more labored. At the end of the day, she slumped in her chair at dinner

with sunglasses over her eyes. She lost color in her cheeks, and kept pushing her

sunglasses up. Gambit sat down next to her and turned to say hi. However, something else

caught his eye. He leaned over to her and pulled off the sunglasses. Everyone that was

there, which wasn't much, stopped and looked at her eyes. The whites were gone, all that

was left was a black dot in a sea of red. "P-peti?" She took her sunglasses and put them back into place. "What?" "Have you looked at yourself today?" "What? I still have my tan, don't worry." He tried, really tried, not to twitch. "Peti, your eyes…" Her ace seemed to relax as she laughed innocently. "It's probably just a side effect of my powers. No big deal." She turned back to her

plate. The rest of the school arrived and began to eat. Cheryl poked one of the broccoli,

and muttered under her breath, "heh heh, berserk…" Gambit, Rogue and Kurt glared at

Scott through the entire dinner. The seventh day, the final day of both bets, Cheryl found her way to the lab. It was

hard to move, hard to breathe, but she continued going. Beast looked at her and his

stomach sank to Hell. She looked miserable and ready to fall over. The small girl sat down

at her station and pulled out her usual work. Hank moved in and took it. "Actually, I have something else for you." He put files in front of her, a lot of files. "Would you process these for me?" She looked up at him, her pupil floating there in

red. She knew what he was doing. She grumbled under her breath. "Fine!" She opened the first file and started drawing up calculations and conclusions.

She stayed in her seat for three hours, working with only a pencil and calculator, and Hank

was happy with this. At the end of the session, Beast smiled a toothy grin. "Alright, thank you Cheryl. That really cut down my time on the project." She

glared up at him and huffed. She left the lab with a very disgruntled expression on her

face. Beast sighed and began to gather supplies in case something bad did happen. In the

Danger Room, Logan started going over the plan for the day's training when Lil Fang walked

in. He stopped and lost his train of thought. Her whites were completely red, a small black

dot darting around. She lost her coloring, her cheeks weren't rosy, and her lips weren't the

color of ripe summer cherries. She looked like she was ready to fall over. Kurt looked at


his teammate like she was on her deathbed. Was she? The gruff man strode to his

student. "Lil Fang, I think you need to sit this one out." She stared at him. He couldn't really

tell except the dot stopped moving. "Why?" "Are you capable to continue, as you are?" Her eyes narrowed, making her look

creepier. "I can do it." Logan nodded his approval before turning to Kurt. "Elf, take a rest." He was about to complain when he took notice of the look in the

older man's eyes. "Yes sir." The boy left with a look over his shoulder, wondering if his friend would

last the day. The student and teacher began a different routine. They practiced light self-

defense, combos, and hand to hand combat, but nothing too strenuous. Cheryl knew this

but did not say a word. At lunch, Wolverine sat Vamp down with a water bottle and told her

to wait. There was no pupil left, nothing but red. He came back with two sandwiches and

placed one with her. She smiled as brightly as she could. "So you do eat more than just toast." He lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah, and?" "I don't know, I'm glad." They finished their meals and continued their training. As

the hours passed on, Cheryl kept on slipping until the end of the day she could hardly stand.

Her brow was wet, the coloring was gone from her face, her breath was labored, and her

legs continued to shake. If he could tell where her eyes were looking, he was sure they

weren't focused. "Cheryl?" he asked. Her eyelids moved up, which usually means that she was looked

up at him. "Yes?" "It's time for dinner, time to get changed." She nodded. "Right." She turned around and stared heading out of the Danger Room. Logan

stood still for a moment. "Where are you going?" "To dinner." "But you need to change first."

"No I don't, liar." He twitched at the word. Liar? What did that mean? She kept walking up on her own, her steps and faltering. She climbed up the stairs and forward to

the dining room. Rogue looked around the table. Cheryl wasn't at the table. She heard from Kurt

what she looked like when he left and it must have gotten worse. "Where is she?" she asked. The three boys next to her fidgeted in their own way,

not answering. Gambit shuffled a deck of cards, Kurt kept wrapping his tail around the

chair, and Evan tapped his silverware repeatedly. Rogue sighed again. "Ah hope she's okay." "Ov course she is," Kurt replied at last. "She's tougher than she looks." Gambit

snorted. "And stubborn, can' forget that." The group nodded. "But she's going to be okay, right?" asked Evan. "I mean, she can't-" "Don't say that!" Rouge smacked his arm. "She'll be fine." Across the table, Scott

listened to the small group in fear. He screwed up. He screwed up big time. He looked

over at jean and her skin was paler. At that moment, Cheryl stumbled into the room. She

was still wearing her training uniform but at that moment, she looked like she was about to

keel over. Her skin was pale, even with the tan. Her lips weren't red anymore, but fleshy

and pale as well. But it was her eyes that scared everyone. They were red, nothing but

red. She swaggered to her seat and plopped down. Rogue and Kurt helped put food on her

plate, for fear of her dropping the plate her hands were shaking so much. Scott looked


pale, so did Jean. Logan sat down next to the Professor, gloom & doom coming off of him

in waves. Charles looked at his friend. What can you tell me? Logan was used to the voice popping into his head by now,

so he sat there arms crossed over his chest, watching Cheryl to make sure she didn't die on

the table. Apparently, Scott bet Cheryl that she couldn't last a week without blood. Add that to

the bet with the Elf of two weeks double training with me and we get this. Charles's face

clouded over. Next to him, Storm and Beast were less than pleased. They watched their

student poke at her food with little energy. Both have dealt with prejudice and fear in their

lifetimes. They didn't want that for their students. Down the table, Cheryl moved her

pieces of food around and started conversing with it. "Hello Berzerk, how are you today? I'm doing fine. Have you seen Kitty? You look

really tasty with butter today…" Least to say, the group was worried about her. Across the

table, Multiple, little Jamie, stopped looking at where he was cutting. "Ow!" He sliced into his finger, blood welling up. Before anyone had a chance to

fuss, the small wound stopped bleeding and scabbed over. Everyone turned to Cheryl. Her

eyes were focused on the boy's finger, her hand extended out. If it was even possible, her

skin grew paler, her brow began to sweat and shake visibly. She turned her head to look at

Scott and grinned, as if to say 'Ha! I win, bitch!' her arm dropped like lead on the table. "Wow," she said, her voice almost hollow. "You know…I'm kinda tired. I think I'm

going to go to bed…" She placed her hands on the edge of the table and pushed up. She

was able to stand for a total of fifteen seconds before her legs buckled and she collapsed

into her chair. Rogue reached over to her friend. "Bloodshot?" Charles looked over to Logan. The Canadian log man didn't need to be

told. He stood up and walked over to her seat. She rolled her head back and smiled softly. "I'm thirsty…" He nodded and scooped her up in his arms. She seemed so light. As

he left the room, he gave a last cold stare around the room. Plain to say, he didn't like

anyone right now. The room was quiet when the two left. All eyes turned to the three

teachers at the head of the table. Charles leaned forward and put his fingertips together. "How did this start?" Outside, clouds began to gather and rumble. Storm set her

mouth and narrowed her eyes at the students. Scott finally looked up at his teachers. "It's my fault, Professor." Charles sighed before leaning back again. "Would you care to explain, Scott?" The boy lowered his eyes again, struggling with

embarrassment as to what to say. "It's just….Professor…it's just too weird!" Beast stood up. "What?! That's what this was all about?" Roberto stood up from his chair. "She drinks our blood like it's nothing!" Rogue slammed her hands on the table. "'Cause it is nothin'!" The table exploded into argument before thunder boomed and

lightning flashed. Storms eyes glowed with power. "ENOUGH! Now sit down." The students took their seats quietly. "I am not amused.

I would have thought you were better than this, but I guess I was wrong." Thunder

boomed overhead. Everyone turned to the Professor. He sighed heavily and straightened

his back. "I told her she would be safe to be herself without fear of judgment. The same thing

I told each of you." The students lowered their eyes, reflecting their own troubles of the

past. Beast sighed before he stood up. "Tell me, have any of you felt dizzy or nauseous when she took your blood?"

Murmurs and whispers of "no" popped up from around the table. "Have any of you gotten sick since she came here?" Again, murmurs popped up,

louder this time. The teachers looked at each other then back at the students. "For starters, you will all be starting on double training, just like she has. Don't think

I don't know about the gambling as well. You are excused for now. Rogue, Kurt, Remy,


Evan, I'd like to talk to you." The four stayed behind, disgruntled about the whole ordeal.

The Professor wheeled over to his students. "You four will also be taking double training." The four exclaimed their disbelief in

vigor, but Charles wouldn't hear of it. "Yes, you didn't encourage the bet, but you didn't do anything against it either. You

didn't tell one of us when it was getting worse. Now, I think we've had enough excitement

for one day. You're excused." The four mutants left, heads low, worried about their friend.

Upstairs, Wolverine carried Cheryl to her bed. She stopped talking and almost stopped

moving. She was limp in his arms, her head propped up against his shoulder. He didn't

have to worry about opening her bedroom door, it was always open. He stopped for a

moment and looked at the walls, and decided that he shouldn't be that surprised. He

placed her on her bed, carefully, she looked like she couldn‟t take that much more damage.

Something caught his eye in the corner of the room, right beside the wardrobe. Logan

started to chuckle at the idea. A refrigerator? Really? He turned his attention back to the

girl on the bed when he heard her breathing go shallow. "Alright Lil Fang, come on." He sat her up against the head board, making sure she

was conscious. He unsheathed his claws and lifted up his other forearm. Gritting his teeth,

he swiped down on his arm, severing veins and arteries. Cheryl's eyes popped open and

stared at the oozing crimson as it came towards her. With the last ounce of will she could

possess, she turned her head away. Logan sighed. "Cheryl…" The muscles in her face twitched. "No…" she whispered. "I would hurt you…" The corners of her mouth tried to curl up

into a smile. "Besides," she said. "You say you're on reserve. Right?" The rugged warrior set his

jaw. Normally, if someone was on a mission to kill themselves, he wouldn't care either way.

But this…this was his student, he told himself. His student. He watched his blood as it was

about to drip off, his wounds already closing. He grinned. "For the record, my very delicious blood is about to get all over your nice clean

comforter, so-" Cheryl's hand lashed out and grabbed his arm. Her head turned back as

her lips latched on to the already healing wounds. The wounds healed, but she continued

to lap at the red on his skin. When she was sure she got it all, her grip loosened enough

for him to get his arm back. He felt a little wrong. Not in the "I'm-giving-my-blood-away-

for-a-little-girl-to- drink" kind of wrong. No. He felt wrong because he was enjoying it. He

looked down at her red sea eyes and sliced his arm open again. Her grip wasn't as tight as

before, but still firm and determined to not let it go. He still felt wrong. But it felt so

good… No! He tried to think of other things. Old enemies, old wars, dead enemies-did she

just bite him?! The two of them repeated this small dance several times, Cheryl drinking

her fill, and Logan feeling like a horrible human being. She was his student! Finally, when

the wounds had healed up, she looked up at him with whites the color of pink lemonade and

smiled. Then proceeded to pass out. He tucked her in to her bed and pulled a chair near her side. Every now and again,

her breathing would become strangled. Logan sliced his arm open again and helps her feed.

He chuckled. Cheryl almost died because of her pride. It reminded him a little about

himself.


Chapter 8

Dawn could be seen through a crack in the large curtains in Cheryl‟s room. The light slowly

brightened the multi-colored room. Every now and again, Cheryl would gasp for air, her

systems trying to recover. Hearing this, Logan got up from his chair two feet away and

sliced his arm open. He stopped wincing at the pain halfway through the night. I‟ve gotten

weak, he thought. He looked at her closely again. Her lips had started to turn a deeper

shade of pink and color had mostly returned to her face. He chuckled to himself again.

When had he started caring so much? After the wound healed, he would return to his chair

and continue the watch. Her breathing stopped for a second, and then suddenly gasped in her sleep. Logan sprang

to his feet, and slit his arm open as if on auto pilot. His blood gleamed like liquid tainted

glass in the morning light before bringing it to Lil‟ Fang‟s mouth. Logan was so preoccupied

he barely heard the soft hesitating knock on the door. His arm was still to the girl‟s lips as

he growled at the opening door. Scott Summers and Jean Grey stood in the doorway. Both looked paler than usual with

their heads down. Logan could see the small shadowing under the telepath‟s eyes. They

hadn‟t slept much the last night, they were too worried of what they had done, or shouldn‟t

have done. The teacher didn‟t care. He was looking after one student at the moment, not

babysitting the rest who should have known better. “What do you two want,” he growled, his voice low so not to wake the Vamp. The honor

students looked at each other then back to the girl lying unconscious on the bed. Jean

hesitated as she spoke. “Will she…will she be alright?” She took a small step forward but stopped as Scott held her

shoulder. She looked at Scott than Logan, and stepped back again. The teacher glared with

a snarl pulling at his mouth. “She was lucky enough to breathe after the last week, now what do you two WANT?!” His

fists were curled tightly as he tried not to lash out unintentionally at the two. They may

have caused her harm but they were children in the end. Scott didn‟t smile as he tried to

put himself between Logan and Jean. “We just wanted to apologize to her for everything we did. Would that be okay? Logan?” He

didn‟t want to sound threatening or move too quickly. He spent a lot of time around the

man and knew when to back off. Wolverine forced his hands to relax before he answered. “She hasn‟t woken up yet. Her body is trying to heal, so I suggest you leave.” He pointed to

the door like a teacher telling a child to go to the principal. Scott didn‟t change his

expression as he nodded and left, leading Jean out the door. The door shut and Cheryl

struggled to breathe again. The cycle continued. Hours in the morning passed with the same slice-n-bleed routine. As people woke up, they

came by to visit, and all the same response. Bobby and Sam tried to knock nonchalantly

before opening the door. A snarl resounded out, making the two shut the door and run

down the hall. The routine went on for several hours until Beast tapped on the door. After a

minute of waiting, he opened the door, greeted by the same animalistic snarl by the

protector. Beast returned the snarl with an extra side of viciousness. Logan humphed and

returned to watching over the small girl. Hank went to the other side of the bed and pulled

up a chair. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Beast began to look around the

multi-painted/splattered/splashed room, sniffing at the air. Logan looked up at him with a

look that asked what the blue man wanted now. The doctor turned his head and stared at

the industrial fridge by the wardrobe. He glanced between the ruff teacher and the fridge. “Is that…?” he finally asked, pointing a claw at the large metal door. Logan looked at the

fridge himself.


“Yup.” He didn‟t show interest, just fact on his face. Hank scrunched his chin in a small

pondering approval. “Did you look?” He raised a furry eyebrow at his associate and friend. The gruff man

returned the look. “What?” “Did you look?” “No, I was busy.” Logan extended a hand out to the sleeping girl, an explanation to the

question. The doctor looked back and forth between the other teacher and the fridge. After

a few seconds of this exercise, he stood from his chair, crossed over to the industrial

appliance and opened it. His stomach dropped and his throat closed as the coppery smell of

gallons of blood wafted out. He looked back at his friend. “Oh my stars and garters. She has been collecting this much? How much blood loss is there

in your training sessions?” He looked back among the several jars. Names were written on

labels across the jars, along with other interesting information, like the flavor and blood

type as well as the “mood” someone was in when the blood was taken. The good doctor

frowned at his name on a jar full of blood. What did “unknown” flavor mean? She didn‟t

know what he tasted like or was it something random? It was something certainly to be

addressed. Logan cocked an eyebrow the teacher. “I can‟t teach her anything if she doesn‟t use her powers, and for that she needs blood.

What are you doing?” He watched the doctor try to stifle a grin and snicker. The doctor tried

again for a straight face. “Nothing much, Logan, but it seems our good little Cheryl has the most…interesting labeling

system.” In Hanks overly large clawed hands was an empty jar. Logan‟s face flushed when

he read the label. Flavor: ORGASM Name: Logan Blood Type: A- Mood: N/A Beast studied the labels of the many empty jars on the top shelf with an amused eye. They

were all reserved for Logan and his “orgasmic” tasting blood. “It seems you don‟t have emotions either. Well, any that are recognizable.” He half grinned

at the label, finding the “N/A” quite interesting. Logan grumbled, his cheeks still slightly

flushed. In her bed, Cheryl gasped for air again. Without thinking, the teacher sliced his

arm open in the blink of an eye and placed the cut to the little surfer‟s dry lips. Beast

looked at the scene and lost his toothy smile. “Has she been like this all night?” He dropped his arms, the jar still in his hand. Logan

nodded but kept his eyes on the girl drinking away at his vein. Hank replaced the jar in the

fridge, closed the door quietly, and walked back to his small chair on the other side of the

bed. His muscles were tense, coiling, and ready for a fight. Logan took his seat again and

sat in silence for hours. It was mid-day when the small mutant girl stirred in her coma. Her eyes opened slowly.

The whites of her eyes were just a little pink and her irises a bright ink red. Her head was

groggy and slow but she recognized her multicolored walls and ceiling. On the edges of her

vision, her teachers hovered close. “Cheryl?” Dr. McCoy asked. “Can you understand me?” He checked her pulse and

temperature and moved his claw across eyes. Her eyes followed dutifully. “Yes Hank, I can understand you.” She shut her eyes tight so she wouldn‟t follow the claw.

Both men heaved a sigh of relief. Logan felt especially relieved and at the same time

profoundly irritable. “Don‟t. Do. That. Again.” His teeth grated together as he spoke each word. Beast raised an

eyebrow but Cheryl didn‟t care. The Doctor leaned in, checking her vitals again. “Tell me,” he said, his voice curious but relatively professional. “Why did you do it?” He

stared down on her not as a friend or doctor, but an adult on a child who had done


something wrong. Cheryl mumbled and thought. Why had she done it? Yeah, it was a

statement of pride but she should have thought better of the circumstances. “I pricked Jean and tasted her…” She stopped and scrunched up her face, lifting a shaking

arm to slap her forehead gently. Logan looked curiously at her. “What?” He raised an eyebrow when he was answered by a giggle. Soon, Cheryl couldn‟t

help her laughter. “I can‟t believe I said that.” She giggled again. The teachers stared at each other, unsure

what to make of the giggles. After another minute of it, she finally stopped and looked at up

at her caretakers to answer them. “I was drunk, at least I think I was. Maybe buzzed is the word I‟m looking for? A

little bit at least.” She almost laughed at their expressions but restrained herself and

instead decided to elaborate. “Jean tasted like good-and I do mean GOOD-French wine. I didn‟t think anything of

it because alcohol has never affected me before. I‟ve tried regular alcohol but my blood

metabolized it too quickly. Maybe it just registers in my brain differently? What do you

think?” She spoke up to Logan, her bloodshot, tired eyes staring up with fleeting

awareness. The gruff teacher stared back. “I don‟t know, but we‟ll discuss that when you‟re better. Are you hungry?” He didn‟t

wait for an answer as he sliced open his arm again. The blood welled up and spilled over

his tanned skin. He held it out to the surfer girl. Her red eyes widened just a little before

reaching out. Her arms struggled to reach up, but she tried. She strained to reach up with

her energy deprived arms, flailing her hands around to try to swim to the blood offered to

her. At last Logan moved his wounded arm to her lips. She drank deeply, her eyes half

closed. Logan‟s eyes as well started to close. „She feels better, that’s good,’ he thought. He took a sharp breath. „This actually

feels… really good… It doesn’t feel like last night. I shouldn’t be thinking about this!’ He

focused on his student again as she stopped sucking at the wound. She relaxed again, the

whites of her eyes a little less pink. She ran her tongue over her lips and smiled pink. It

seemed to bother the teachers that her mouth wasn‟t back to cherry red. Cheryl looked

back and forth between the two. “Say… Do you two mind if I skip training today? My arms are still tired, and I haven‟t

even tried the rest of my limbs.” She looked around her twilight shaded walls and furrowed

her brow. “What time is it anyway?” She looked to Hank as he looked at the alarm clock by

her bed. “Is it five? I feel like it‟s five.” “It‟s two o‟clock.” “Oh wow, it‟s early. Maybe I will be able to make it to training.” Her eyes started to

droop down. She blinked away the coming sleep looking up at Hank. The doctor smiled

slightly. “It‟s quite alright, you need the rest. Besides its two o‟clock in the afternoon.” “What?!” Her eyes shot open. Beast laid a large furry hand on her forehead to calm

her down. “Don‟t worry about it, just get some rest. Training can wait until you‟re better.” He

moved his hand back and watched her eyes close shut to sleep. Her breathing slowed down

to a smooth rhythm that could only mean sleep. Beast let out a long sigh before looking

back up to Wolverine. His expression was bland, eyes staring into the distance. The gruff

man didn‟t share his thoughts very often, and even then with very few people. Hank

opened his mouth to ask the man his thoughts when they heard a soft knock at the door.

Instinctively, both men turned and growled low and deep in their chests. The door opened

anyway and Charles rolled in.


“How is the patient?” He didn‟t ask „how is she?‟ He used the word deliberately,

meaning he wanted to a professional opinion. Beast looked down at the sleeping girl again

and began to put his thoughts in order. “She‟s weak. She could hardly keep her arms up. She‟ll survive, she‟s already

gaining control and her eyes are returning to their natural color. What I don‟t understand,

is why? She appears to be recovering faster than she should, given that it took her a week

of starving herself to put her into this state. Why did her body have such a reaction?” He

looked at the Professor and waited for his insight. Charles Xavier always had an interesting

insight into whatever was going on. It was certainly…suspicious. Charles looked at the girl

with worry on his face. Thoughts raced across his face before he decided on one, then

looked up at his two old friends. “Imagine, if you will,” he said. “If I started to walk again. I would have to gain

muscle strength and motor control, but I would achieve it. Then I decided to go out and

compete in a triathlon. The body works harder than it ever had to before. Muscles are

torn, ligaments broken, the body is crippled once more. It‟s just lucky for us that her body

has a natural inclination for survival. I imagine she won‟t be back to herself within the

week.” He wheeled the chair around to exit. Logan turned his head to the Professor. “What‟s that supposed to mean, Chuck?” He was eye to eye with his old friend, his

torso turned with his head. Charles stopped and looked back with a confused brow. “What do you mean?” “Her body‟s „natural inclination for survival‟? Something like this has happened

before?” His tone was getting aggressive again, but not what it was before Cheryl woke up.

Charles closed his eyes and sighed, then looked to see the sleeping surfer girl. “Some things are not meant to be told by others. You of all people understand that,

old friend.” He turned back to the door and wheeled out. The teachers dropped the subject

and continued watching over her. Hours passed until another knock came from the bedroom door. Logan and Hank

growled. The door opened anyway. Piotr stood in the lightened doorway and flipped a light

switch. The teachers blinked at the new light overhead. “What time is it?” Beast asked, stretching his long arms out over his head. The

young Russian walked up to the side of the bed next to Logan. “It is dinner time downstairs. You two should eat. I will watch over the little one.”

He looked down at Wolverine as he said the last sentence. Logan glanced at the oldest

student then back to the sleeping one. “No thanks,” he said. Beast shook his head. “No thank you, though it was a nice offer. Go ahead and join the rest.” He

stretched his back and shifted in his chair. Piotr looked back to Logan. “What would you like to eat?” he asked. Logan didn‟t look up at him as he

answered. “Steak. Bloody,” he said, finally looking at the young man. Beast perked up at the

thought of meat. “Me too, if you don‟t mind bringing an extra plate. Medium rare please.” He smiled

a toothy grin before settling back in the spare chair. Piotr nodded and exited, closing the

door quietly behind him. Cheryl didn‟t stir under the light in the bedroom, just continued to

sleep. Hours later, the little surfer girl was sitting up and trying to convince her doctor that

she was well enough to walk around. “I‟m fine! See!” She waved her arms around over her head and in circles at her

sides. “I am ready to get back on my feet. Come on!” “No,” Dr. McCoy replied, as he grabbed her chin and assaulted her eyes with a

flashlight. “Your skin is too pale and your eyes are still too red. its bed rest for you Ms.

Davis.” He clicked the flashlight off and grinned big and toothy.


“Be happy that‟s all you need. You need more blood.” He paused, a puzzled look

across his eyes. “How much have you had already?” It was Cheryl‟s turn to look puzzled. “I‟m not sure. I was passed out most of the time.” She smiled wide as Beast handed

her a glass of the blood she saved up. At first, he wasn‟t keen on giving her blood that had

been sitting for so long in jars, until she pointed out it was an industrial fridge and it was

better than most facilities could own. So he let it go, along with the question on how she

could get such equipment. A knock resounded from the door before it inched open to reveal

a pale eye surrounded by blue fur. “Cheryl? Can ve come in?” Kurt opened the door wider until he poked his smiling

head through. The door burst open as Evan slammed the door open. In his arms was a

GameCube with four controllers dangling out of his arms. “Move Kurt. The stuff‟s not going to get set up by itself.” Behind them, Gambit and

Rogue waved to the surfer girl while carrying a decent sized TV between the two. Kurt gave

a lopsided grin as he shrugged. “Ve thought ve could visit and make you feel better, like games and solid food.” He

held up a platter of snack food. The small girl looked at Beast and smiled wide and brilliant.

Everyone clamored in as the good doctor sighed. He knew his patient wasn‟t going rest for a

while yet. As Spike hooked up the system to the TV at the foot of the bed, the others sat

around Cheryl and talked. “So what happened last night?” she asked as she picked at the variety of food from

cheese slices, to potato chips, to brownies, to carrot sticks. Apparently it wasn‟t just one

person putting this together, she thought as she picked up a carrot stick. Kurt‟s eyes

widened at the question. “Don‟t you remember anything?” All four of her teammates looked at her for brief

astonishment. She shrugged her weak shoulders. “Last thing I remember is training with Logan. Which reminds me…” She looked back

at the doctor slouching in his chair. “Where did he go?” Beast looked up at her. “He went to shower. Don‟t worry, he‟ll be back soon. He wouldn‟t want to waste his

steak.” Sitting by the empty chair was a platter with the largest piece of meat Cheryl had

seen on this side of the Atlantic, not to mention the Pacific, served to one person. Did he

kill the animal himself, she wondered. Or did he just stare at it until it keeled over in fright?

Rogue touched her arm to get her attention back. “You walked into the dining hall in your training clothes. You were acting like you

were drunk or somethin‟. You were talkin‟ to your food and you had us really worried.” “Then,” Kurt interrupted. “Jamie cut his finger and you healed it no problem. But

then…” He hesitated as he looked back at his slightly disgruntled sister. “You passed out in your chair. Logan went and carried you off to bed. Don‟t you

remember any of it?” Rogue knit her brow together as her friend just shrugged. Beast lifted

up his head with a smile. “You didn‟t tell her your punishment.” He smiled big and toothy at the students.

Cheryl‟s eyes widened to bulge out of her skull. “You guys got in trouble? How much trouble?” She bounced her gaze off of her

friends. Spike answered from behind the TV. “We got double training with Logan.” “Why did you guys get in trouble?” “Because,” Rogue explained. “We didn‟t go to the teachers when you were starving

yourself. But because we didn‟t make a bet we didn‟t get the worst of it.” She cocked a grin

at the thought. Spike stood back up and leaned against the TV. “Everyone else has that plus survival training with Logan and cleaning the whole

house including lawn work. Now, are we ready to play or what?” They played rock-paper-

scissors for the controllers. It was a tough battle of thirty minutes but at last Cheryl won

over Kurt. “Oh, man!” Kurt exclaimed as he cradled his jaw in palm. Cheryl patted his back.


“It‟s okay, poof man. Not all of us are skilled in the ancient art of battling with hand

signals.” She chuckled when Kurt stuck out his tongue in response. It was just a few

minutes later that Logan walked in again, freshly showered and in a change of clothes. He

looked over the scene. Cheryl sat with her legs crossed on the bed with Nightcrawler lying down beside her.

Rogue sat on the edge of the bed with her legs dangling off while Spike and Gambit sat on

the floor a few feet from the TV. Beast sat in his corner looking back at him with a raised

eyebrow. The gruff man shrugged his muscled shoulders and walked to his chair and, more

importantly, his steak. He picked up the fork and steak knife and carved away at the chunk

of meat. The five teenagers stared at the screen as four of them raced, battled, and

puzzled their way through the stack of games they brought. Kurt sighed heavily as he

watched the screen and switched his tail in the air behind him. Cheryl peered over at him

and back at the controller in her hand. “I‟ll hand over the controller, if you give me some blood.” She dangled the controller

over his head. He quickly shoved up his sleeve and offered up his wrist, as did the other

people playing. The short girl took a moment to process the flavors being presented. The

great chocolaty taste of Rogue, confusing but satisfying pineapple of Kurt, healthy celery of

Evan, or… She looked at Gambit‟s wrist. She‟d never tasted him before. However, by the

smell of him, she wouldn‟t want to right now. “Gambit, do you drink a lot?” The room stilled for a second as four friends, and two

teachers, waited for his answer. The Cajun chuckled a little nervously. “Of course not, peti. Why would you ask?” He eyed the two teachers watching him

with interest and raised eyebrows. Cheryl searched around her for a needle for her snack. “Because, you smell like alcohol. I don‟t mean „wine cooler‟ alcohol, more like

„whiskey‟ alcohol. Ah ha!” She found a needle and poked Kurt and Rogue. The red threads

moved slowly and sluggish through the air. Cheryl frowned at it. It was more difficult than

before to form threads that moved. She concentrated further as she wound them together

into a single ball. Sweat began to glisten on her forehead as the ball finally finished taking

shape. She took a deep breath, finally having fresh blood and moved it to her lips. Knock, Knock. In the moment it took for her to wonder who was behind the door,

she lost concentration on her food, letting it splash down her front and on to her bed. “Aw, come on! Not fair!” She gave another aggressive sigh before waving at the

door. “Come in,” she called, still pouting at the spilled blood soaking into her bed and

clothes. The door peaked open and a pair of red sunglasses peaked through. The room

stared in interest as Cyclops opened the door and stepped in with a sheepish look on his

young face. “Hey, Cheryl.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I just wanted to come by and apologize for the betting thing.” Cheryl waved an arm

at him. “Don‟t worry about it. I‟m fine, see?” Her eyes were still plastered to the blood as it

began to recede and well up again into a small watery form. Everyone was watching as

Scott took another step forward. “No, it wasn‟t okay,” he said. “You got hurt because I didn‟t want to understand. I

didn‟t think that you could end up like this when I made that bet.” He hung his head down.

The guy was rolling himself in guilt since the previous night, and it was making the surfer

girl nauseous. “Okay, please stop. I‟m fine, I‟m alive. Besides, it was good to know how long I could

last anyway. It was bound to happen sooner or later.” Her brow started to sweat again as

the blob of blood floated up. Her eyes were bright red as she slurped up the liquid like it

was Jell-O. Scott‟s eyebrows went up and his skin paled as he looked on, but he managed to

not look green or about to throw up. Logan grinned as he cut another piece of steak, put it

between his teeth and started to chew. The gruff man almost laughed as the boy grew


whiter than possible. Cheryl turned to Scott with a smile. Her color was better than before,

a slight rosiness returned to her tanned skin. “See, I‟m fine.” She smiled widely as the golden student backed away to the door. “Okay, well, I just wanted to say sorry and to make sure you were okay. We‟ll see

you at breakfast, okay?” He closed the door behind him as he stepped out. The group

blinked at the closed door before Kurt picked up the forth controller and commenced the

game. They played for hours, Beast handing Cheryl glasses of stored blood every time the

glass was empty. Logan watched from his bedside chair until everyone left for bed, including

the two teachers. Cheryl assured them that she was well enough to feed herself if she woke

up. “Don‟t say „if‟, Lil‟ Fang,” said Logan, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just don‟t.”

With that said, Logan left to his own bed. Cheryl didn‟t go to breakfast the next day; instead

she remained in bed for days at the behest of her doctor. Everyone came around to

apologize, then left nervously back out the door. Whenever she asked for a taste though,

the students only hesitated before shrugging and giving over an arm. Most of them

blanched, others averted their eyes, but all of them did it regardless. She managed to get a

snow cone from Bobby, which made the surfer girl very happy. For three days, Cheryl bounced on the bed begging to do something physical.

Anything, even run around the room, but Beast said she was to stay in bed until he said so.

She pouted and begged some more. One time while playing Super Smash Bros. on the

GameCube, Cheryl asked Kurt if he could teleport her out of her room. He said he couldn‟t,

orders from Beast. The girl promptly called him a wuss. On the third day of bed rest, only Gambit and Spike came to her room. Rogue and

Nightcrawler were part of the group sent on a mission. Apparently a group who called

themselves The Brotherhood was causing trouble again. It happened a lot, they explained. “I used ta be one,” Gambit said. “So did Rogue.” Cheryl gaped at him. “Rogue used to be against the school? Seriously? Did she have a head injury or

something?” “No,” replied Spike. “Mystique messed with her head. She didn‟t know who to trust.

Then she found out the woman lied to her about everything. Then the crazy bitch, well

maybe not crazy, but still a bitch, turned out to be Kurt‟s mom!” The room fell silent as

Cheryl started at them. “Did I just stumble into a soap opera? Or is it just like a Big Brother show?” No one

had an answer, or would answer. They played games for a long while before the ruckus

started. Beast was seated at his usual chair by the bed reading when Kitty rushed up

through the floor next to him, panting from lack of breath. “Beast! We need you in Med Bay. Something‟s wrong with Rogue.” She grabbed on

to him as he dropped his book and they both sank into the floor. Cheryl, Gambit, and Evan

ran out of the bedroom door in search of answers. No one was visible so they dashed off to

the lower levels. As they reached for the elevator, the door opened and Logan stepped

through. “Woah, where do you think you three are going?” He blocked the elevator door with

his bulk so no one could sneak past him. Everyone burst out all at once. “We need to see Rogue.” “Is she hurt?” “Is she okay?” “Is she dying?” “What‟s going on?” Logan waved his hands at them. “Hold it, hold it! Rogue is fine, she‟s alive and it‟s already crowded enough down

there so you don‟t need to be there. And you,” he pointed at Cheryl, “are supposed to be in

bed, so come on.” He motioned with his arms to back them up. The surfer girl huffed.


“Isn‟t it rude to point?” she muttered as she turned around. Logan raised an

eyebrow. “What did you say?” “Hmm?” Cheryl gave him large innocent eyes. “You said something.” “I don‟t know what you mean,” she said and turned again to the way they came.

Logan herded the friends back to the multicolor bedroom. The three of them went back to

playing games but with less enthusiasm. Eventually, Gambit and Spike made their way

down to the dinner table, apologizing for leaving her by herself and Logan. She just

shrugged. “It‟s okay, I‟m going to be stuck here for now anyway. Just be sure to come back

with some news from the table, okay?” She waved at them as the door closed. Next to her,

Logan snapped open the newspaper. With looking after Cheryl for days, he hadn‟t had the

chance to look at the paper, and it had started to build up. “What no toast?” Cheryl asked. The paper folded down as Logan raised an eyebrow. “Nope, not today. Maybe tomorrow.” The paper snapped up again. Cheryl pursed her

lips. “Are you going to eat anything?” she asked. The paper shuddered as a page was

turned. “Not right now, „Lil Fang.” The silence stretched on, or as long as Cheryl could stand

the silence. She started to hum, then bounce in place, then started to dance in place while

bouncing and humming to herself until, finally, Logan folded down the newspaper and

stared at her. She stopped and smiled sweetly at him. “Yeeesss?” “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice full of exhaustion and exasperation. “I‟m bored and therefore entertaining myself,” she replied. She stopped for a second

and peered at him. He was tired, dark half-moons under his eyes that were slowly fading

away as they healed over. “You‟ve been watching over me for days now,” she said quietly. “And now you‟re

watching over Rogue. You need to eat and sleep.” Her face was full of concern when Logan

chuckled lowly in response. “No thanks, though I would appreciate a steak right about now. I‟ve gone longer

without sleep, it won‟t kill me.” “That‟s usually what all insomniacs say before, you know, they die from exhaustion.”

She chewed on her red lower lip. “You could always sleep with me.” Her eyes widened as

Logan dropped the paper and stared at her. “What did you say?” “You could sleep with me, here in this bed, so you can look after me while getting

some shut eye without killing yourself. I‟m not going to have sex with you „cause, no

offence, you‟re cute but not the right time.” She grinned cherry lips at him, humor glinting

in her eyes. Logan chuckled. “Really now?” “Well, almost dying because I refused to step down from the challenge; which is a lot

like you, from what I hear. Hank was talking to me while you were out eating and

showering. You like taking risks a lot, no matter what the consequences to yourself.” She

looked straight at him. “Has it changed much since you became a teacher?” “No,” he sighed. “It‟s only declined some. I don‟t have as much…fun…as I used to.”

He leaned back in the chair, the newspaper hanging down in his hands. He was tired. He

was hungry. He really wanted a beer. They talked the rest of the night, about his pride,

about her so called “foolishness”. She didn‟t see a difference between the two, but

whatever. He wouldn‟t talk about what happened to Rogue. She tried several different

segues to bring it naturally into discussion, but he wouldn‟t budge. The man was impervious

to conversation traps.


The next day, Cheryl still didn‟t know anything about Rogue besides that she was

alive. When she tried to get up and sneak off, Beast was there to keep her in bed to rest. “It‟s not fair!” she bellowed. “Shouldn‟t you be looking after Rogue?” She raised an

eyebrow in question. The doctor merely shrugged and fixed another cup of blood for her. “I don‟t have to worry about her trying to sneak out of her room. She listens to her

doctor.” With that said, he returned to his book and chuckled every now and again. Another day passed, and Cheryl was still not permitted to leave her room, let alone

her bed. She was able to convince Beast to give her a checkup at last. If she passed, she

could leave and check on Rogue. Hank looked at her eyes, her coloring, her blood pressure,

her heart rate, her temperature… She sighed inwardly. This was taking FOREVER! She was

healthy, her tan glowed again, even from the lack of sun for a few days. Her whites were

clear, and her iris‟s weren‟t screaming fire-engine red anymore. She was fine. It was a few

more minutes before she started fidgeting and Beast stood up straight. “Alright,” he sighed. “You‟re alright to move around, just not too much physical

activity, alright?” He sighed again as he realized she wasn‟t listening to him, but dressed

and out the door by the time he finished talking to him. She speed walked down the hall to

Rogue and Kitty‟s room. She heard the other students talking about Rogue as they passed

by her door. Something was wrong with her powers, or something went wrong when she

used her powers. No one was sure what to think of it. Well, Cheryl Davis was going to find

out what was going on with her friend. She reached the door and knocked. “Rogue?” No one answered. Kitty must be somewhere else, probably the

entertainment room. Cheryl knocked again. No answer. Well, maybe she was sleeping, she

could come back later to check on her, but she went through all the trouble of getting out of

that multi-colored room to see her. She could just take a peek and see how much damage

was done. Yeah, that sounded better to her. The surfer girl eased the door open until it was

wide enough to slip through, then she looked at her friend‟s bed and stopped. Rogue was

asleep, floating several feet above her bed. Cheryl blinked a few times. “Well shit,” she said. “This is new.”


Chapter 9

Rogue turned over in her sleep, letting her arm hang down in the empty air. Her

fingers lightly touched the comforter on the bed. Cheryl stayed still in the doorway. To wake

her up, or not to wake her up, that is the question. While she was deciding, the floating girl

murmured in her sleep and cracked open an eye. “Cheryl? What are you doing out of bed?” “I could say the same thing,” Cheryl replied under her breath. “What?” Rogue rubbed at her eyes with her sleeve to clean them. “Uh…” How was she going to bring this up to her? “Rogue, would you happen to

know what Higgs field is?” “No,” Rogue replied with a yawn. “Why?” “Because it‟s supposed to be this field that controls gravity.” “And?” “Well, you‟re disturbing the theory.” “What does that mean?” “It means, you‟re floating above your bed.” “What?” With her eyes fully opened, the southern belle noticed that Cheryl was

shorter than usual. Then she looked down. With a scream, Rogue fell back on to the bed.

Cheryl walked over to the bed quickly. “Hey, are you okay?” “What do you think, Bloodshot?” She looked at her friend and sighed. “Sorry, it‟s

been a stressful few days.” She sat up and leaned against the headboard. She was pale and

clammy, dark circles under the eyes that kept shifting to the shadows in the room. She

looked back at the little surfer girl and smiled. “I think I‟m going crazy here.” “Why?” Cheryl asked. “I think you were already there before. What happened when

you were out there?” She waited as her friend sighed and let her head fall back. “I think I did something very wrong. You know I absorb people‟s powers and

abilities, but I also take their memories, their…minds.” She stopped and looked at her

friend, but she remained silent and waited. Rogue sighed and brought her knees up to her

chest and hugged them. “There was trouble at the airport, Mystique and the Brotherhood

were trying to take something. When we got there, there was another woman dressed up,

I‟d never seen her before. A man came up to me and said she was the one taking things,

causing trouble. I thought it was Mystique, but when I touched her… Something when

wrong. I couldn‟t let go and everything just flooded in. The Professor has helped me work

through it, well most of it. I‟m just waiting for her powers to fade, and hopefully her mind

will go into the background, like the rest.” Her face dropped to her knees and gripped her

legs tighter. Cheryl pursed her lips in thought. “Well, it seems you still have them. After two days?” Rogue nodded, then lifted her

face. “You think I‟ll have them forever?” They stared at each other for a minute, Rogue‟s

face filling with horror when Cheryl broke out in a grin. “You know what that means?” She jumped up and spread her arms wide. “You get to learn to fly! Seriously, how cool is that? Not to mention what else you

can do. I wonder if you‟re like Peter Pan.” She sat in front of Rogue again. “Think happy

thoughts. Think happy thoughts.” She squinted at the southern girl, trying to will her to

think those happy thoughts. Rogue gave a short burst of laughter. “You want me to believe in fairies too?” She grinned. The strawberry blonde

shrugged.


“Whatever floats it for ya.” “We‟re not interrupting anything, are we?” In the door was Dr. McCoy and Professor

Xavier, looking happy to see both health cases alive and seeming well. Cheryl turned to

them and crossed her arms. “Did you know she could fly?” The men looked at each other, then to Rogue. Charles

moved next to the bed. “The abilities still haven‟t faded away?” “No,” Rogue replied, some of the cheer evaporating with the change of subject. Hank

walked over with a small bag of medical equipment. He started checking over Rogue‟s vitals

like he did Cheryl‟s just minutes before. When the exam was done, Hank gave the seal of

approval. “Signs of anxiety taking its toll, but nothing more.” Charles nodded to him before

smiling up at Rogue. “I just want to take another look at you, Rogue, and see if I can help you any

further.” He touched her forehead lightly. Rogue closed her eyes and began to sweat. After

a few minutes, the Professor withdrew. “I‟m afraid you‟re going to have her with you for longer than anticipated, maybe

even the rest of your life. We still don‟t know the full nature of your powers, or how they

might react to different people. For now, I‟ve put up a wall between you and her. I don‟t

know how long it will last, but hopefully long enough to figure something better out.” He

patted her hand. Rogue didn‟t look at rest. “So, is she dead?” Her eyes looked large as she asked the question. Charles smiled

slightly. “No, she‟s not dead. She‟s in a coma. I‟ve taken the liberty of paying for her medical

care.” He kept a slight smile as she turned the rest of her in his direction. “What was her name?” she asked. “Carol Danvers. She lived…an interesting life.” He patted her hand again. “Don‟t

worry, We‟ll find a way to help her. Now we just need to figure out how to control these new

aspects.” He turned to Cheryl. She sat on the corner of the bed looking at the two of them

converse with a blank expression. “You said she could fly?” he asked. Cheryl nodded. “I saw her floating above her bed when I got here.” She kept an eye on her friend

when the southern girl stretched and got to her feet. She then proceeded to put her feet

together, spread her arms wide and shut her eyes. The three others looked at her and

waited a heartbeat, before Cheryl started laughing. Rogue grunted. “Why doesn‟t this thing work when I want it to! Maybe I just need a head start.” She

took a step over to the balcony doors before Cheryl jumped up and hugged her. “Stop trying to fly away, at least not by way of balcony. We don‟t know what‟s going

to happen.” Rogue stopped struggling and stood still. “you mean there‟s more of this?! What if I start melting things with a thought? I

can‟t live like that!” She began to grind her teeth in anger. She always was the weird one,

now it was something new! Charles linked his fingers together and peered at the girls. Then

an idea came to him and he smiled. “Maybe it‟s time for you to have a different kind of training. I believe there‟s room in

Cheryl‟s training group. Logan won‟t mind one more.” Charles smiled at the thought of

Logan‟s reaction. Oh well, it would be good for the girls to train together after they‟ve

become such good friends. Cheryl smiled brightly at the idea, then stopped and sniffed at

Rogue. The other mutant raised an eyebrow. “What?” she asked, her tone waiting for something bad to happen. The surfer chick

just shrugged. “I don‟t know, you just smell different.” “Smell different?”


“Yeah, it‟s you, but there‟s something added to it, sweeter and tarter. I don‟t know.

Oh wait!” She let go of Rogue and dug for a needle. “I wonder what you taste like. Do you

taste any different?” She held up the needle, silently asking for permission to take a sample

of delicious red liquid. Rogue growled. “Go ahead.” The needle poked at the skin, a small red thread slowly winding out of

the pale skin. Cheryl grinned and daintily slurped up the blood. She stopped and savored

the flavor. “MMMmmm! Raspberry chocolate!” She closed her eyes to indulge further in the

taste. “Not just any raspberry chocolate either. Fresh raspberries processed for full flavor

with minimal seeds. Very delicious!” She mulled over the taste for a few more moments

before noticing the strange look on Rogue‟s face. “What?” Her face dropped the smile as soon as she noticed her friend trying hard not

to smile, or laugh. Finally, Rogue couldn‟t take it, she burst out in laughter. “Sorry, sorry. It‟s just your face,” she managed before laughing again. Charles

relaxed at the sound of that laughter. The two of them would be fine, all they needed was

time. “Why don‟t you two take the day off? I need to set things up with Logan so you can

start tomorrow. I am also going to take you off your double training while you get used to

these new abilities. Once you‟re comfortable again, you‟ll go right back to it. Now go on,

several people are waiting to see you.” With a smile, he left the room with Hank in tow. The

girls shrugged and decided to go out of the rooms. They started by wandering the halls.

Cheryl sighed happily. “It‟s so great to be out of that small room. It was so annoying! Ugg!” She stretched

her arms wide over her head. Rogue hugged her arms and stared straight ahead. She jolted

out of it when Cheryl stepped in front of her. “What‟s up?” asked the little surfer girl. Rogue faltered at first then stood up

straighter. “The woman, Carol Danvers, she was a real bitch.” She waited for a response, but

only got a confused look. “When she touched me and I absorbed her memories, I saw

things. Some were very confusing, but others were just awful. She drank, did horrible

things. Heh, she would have gotten along with Mystique if she hadn‟t decided to turn good,

for a little while anyway.” They continued their walk down the main staircase. The sun shone brightly through the high windows of the foyer. A perfect summer day

for New England. Sounds of laughter, shouting, and explosions could be heard outside

through the double doors. Cheryl ran down the stairs. “Hurry! I want to be outside while the sun is still up. Oh God! I can surf again!”

When she reached the bottom, she hopped on the balls of her feet as Rogue sauntered

down the steps. As they turned to the large double doors to leave, Gambit stepped out of

the shadowed hall. “Cher! Peti!” He jogged over to them and put his arms around Rogue. “I‟m so glad

you‟re okay.” He continued to hug her as she looked to Cheryl on what was going on. The

strawberry blonde grinned and wiggled her eyebrows at her. The southern girl thought for a

second before blushing a beautiful red. “Let go of me, you swamp rat!” She made a weak attempt to push the Cajun away.

Gambit loosened but didn‟t let go. “What‟s the matter, Cher? No kiss for Gambit?” He grinned and leaned in a fraction,

before Rogue‟s face flared brilliant red. She swung her arm out hitting him, and sending him

flying into the wall a few feet away. The girls stood still shocked. The boy groaned and

rubbed his head. “What did you hit me with? A bus?" He looked up at the girl through squinting eyes.

She stared down at her hands with wonder and abject fear. The hallway remained silent

until Cheryl started to laugh. The other two looked at her curiously. She stopped her

laughing and wiped the tears away.


“What? It‟s funny. Things are going to be even more interesting between you two.”

She walked over to Gambit and patted his head. “I hope you‟re tough enough if you keep

flirting with her.” She helped the boy get to his feet. He grinned charm at her. “Peti, I can survive anything to get a kiss from the lovely Rogue.” He threw a wink at

Rogue for good measure. The girl gained her composure and quirked her eyebrow. “Are you sure you want to risk life and limb for that kind of kiss?” “Ain‟t that the best kind, cher?” They looked at each other for a minute; Gambit

grinning and Rogue slightly annoyed if not intrigued. Cheryl stuck her hand between them

and waved. “Hey, you know what? I‟m going to play some games. Maybe even beat Kurt once, if

that‟s possible. I swear, for a guy who lived in Germany poverty, the guy is a genius on a

controller.” She turned around and walked down the hall mumbling to herself. Rogue jogged

after her, and Gambit jogged after Rogue. They found Kurt in the entertainment room

playing a game. He was happy to see his sister and one of his best friends up and alive.

They played games till dinner time, Kurt proud of his endless victories. He didn‟t feel weird

about Rogue‟s new powers. Apparently, super strength and flight were really, really cool.

The rest of the students were very glad, in their own ways, that the two of them were okay.

They chatted through dinner, catching up on the things that happened while the two were

“bed resting”. Evan sat to Rogue‟s left and sulked a little when he heard about the new

powers. “What‟s wrong?” she asked, afraid of what his answer would be. “You‟re gonna be harder to beat at Frisbee Tag now.” At the mention of the game,

Cheryl‟s eyes widened and glared with excitement. The four other players groaned inwardly

at her enthusiasm. They were all going to get their butts kicked if they didn‟t practice more.

The students at the dining table ate their food with gusto. Double training was harder than

it sounded like. Many asked Cheryl how she managed to do it for two weeks, and then

gaped at her when she told them she played outside after the training. The small group left

the dinner table and wonders what to do. Before they could leave the room, Storm called

Cheryl over. They exchanged words before the teacher handed over a small package

attached to what looked like a small parachute. Cheryl‟s face opened up in wonderful

excitement. They talked a little more before Cheryl walked away from a very confused

Ororo. “What was that about?” Rogue pointed at the small package that was currently being

torn into. “My uncle dropped this off for me. My last one just about quit on me.” The package

was open and inside the packed box was what looked like military dog tags, but they were

smaller, thicker, and what looked like an iridescent square in the middle. She took them

out, looped them over her head, and tucked them into her shirt. Everyone stared at her for

a second, and she stared back. “What?” “What were those?” Even pointed at her chest where the tags hopefully hung. She

shrugged. “Something to help when I‟m out surfing. Hey, what are we going to do now? I don‟t

want to go to bed yet. I‟ve been in bed for DAYS!” She started walking down the hallway

towards the front of the mansion. The rest walked after her. Evan opened his mouth but

Rogue shook her head. The surfer girl wasn‟t going to go into it. As they passed by the

entertainment room, Kurt got an idea. He poofed out and appeared in front of Cheryl. She

startled, stopped in her tracks. “Poofman, stop poofing in front of me.” She let out a sigh and saw something in his

hands. He held it up with a wide grin. “I got the last season of Avatar! We can see the end at last.” His smile was wide and

expecting. Cheryl looked at him with a blank stare.


“Wasn‟t that a movie?” The hall remained quiet as Nightcrawler tried to get past the

horror of that statement. Cheryl cocked her head to the side in confusion. “What?” She raised an eyebrow when Kurt put his hand on her shoulder. “We need to fix this.” They watched the complete first season of Avatar: The Last

Airbender before they all turned to bed. Cheryl was impressed with the whole idea of the

series. Martial arts‟ being able to control the elements was just amazing. She recognized the

styles with approval. They complemented the elements pretty well. The last thing she

wondered before she fell asleep was if other mutants used their powers like that. She woke up early, something she wasn‟t able to do for the last week. She didn‟t

mind that she only had a few hours of sleep. She was full of energy. Why? Because, she

was going surfing. The wind called to her blood, the surf cried her name. She was meant to

be with her first love… It was a wonderful, satisfying affair. She was out in the water for

hours before she returned to the mansion. Water was still dripping from her strawberry

blonde hair when she walked in the kitchen. Logan sat at the kitchen table reading the

morning paper. She sighed with pleasure. Back to the routine and another chance to steal

his breakfast. She walked past him to the fridge and got a glass of juice before sitting down

next to him. He didn‟t look over the paper or even acknowledge her. “Did you have fun surfing?” he asked as her hand started creeping for the breakfast

plate. Today, the golden brown prize had peanut butter slathered generously across the

pieces. A golden landscape of victory to be hers-if she could get past its keeper. “Of course I did,” she replied. Her hand hovered a moment before moving forward.

Logan turned the page quietly. “No trouble getting back into things?” “Nope.” Her hand was very close to the plate now. In a few moments, the plate

would be hers! But then what? Obviously the man could take her down if she ran with the

plate. Was a few slices of toast worth being tackled by the big, gruff man sitting next to

her? She tried to ignore the blush spreading up her face. Absolutely yes. She reached the

last couple of inches for the plate, only to have her hand flicked away. “Don‟t touch those.” The paper didn‟t even rustle from the movement. “And didn‟t Hank tell you to lay off the physical exercise for a while?” “No,” she pouted in response. “I‟m not supposed to use my powers to exertion. That

being the reason I‟m not training with him this morning, and what the hell was that?” She

flailed her flicked hand at him. The paper dropped in half. “What was what?” “What was that? Flicking my hand away? You hit me harder the last time I tried to

take your breakfast. Actually I succeeded last time. Is it because I‟ve been on bed rest?”

She put her fists on her hips in defiance. In a soaked through over-sized shirt, she looked

adorable. However, Logan wasn‟t about to agree that the thought crossed his mind. “Is that what you really think? Then you won‟t mind today‟s lesson plan.” He gave a

half grin as he picked up his coveted cup of coffee. Cheryl stood up with the air of defiance

still trying to cling to her. “I can take anything you can throw. Now, if you‟ll excuse me, I need to go take a

shower.” Fast as lightning, she grabbed only a single piece of golden brown toast before

bolting from the room, drops of water flinging at Logan as a mere afterthought. After she

left the room, the teacher dried himself off and continued with the paper and coffee, slightly

smiling to himself. Hours later, Nightcrawler, Rogue, and Vamp were in the Danger Room training.

Because of Rogue‟s new abilities, she might work well with Vamp and Nightcrawler on how

to control her powers. As well, she could be their first line of defense while Vamp was

around healing everyone. It seemed like a good idea, then Cheryl got a good look at

Rogue‟s training outfit. Her eyes went wide and she turned to Logan like a snake, her finger

pointing at him.


“Ah-ha!” she exclaimed. “I knew I didn‟t have to wear that stupid wetsuit outfit with

yellow heels. I knew it!” She started to do her known victory dance while Logan pinched the

bridge of his nose. Rogue raised an eyebrow. “What‟s this all about?” she asked Kurt. He chuckled at the sight. “Oh, Vamp has been having this argument with Logan about the uniforms the new

students get for training. If some others can have a different uniform, why can‟t she?” He

stopped to laugh at the next ridiculous move she did in her dance. When she stopped, she

swaggered over to her comrades with a satisfied smile on her face. “I knew I didn‟t have to wear that uniform. Have you seen those heels? They are so

impractical, and they want us to train in them? I don‟t think so. I‟m amazed no one has

more sprained or broken ankles.” Logan gave up on the argument so he just told them

where to start. Rogue stopped at the starting point with a contemplating look on her face. “Jean doesn‟t have to worry about her feet.” “Why?” Cheryl asked. “Because, she can fly.” “What?!” the girl missed the cue and got another tongue lashing from Logan. They

trained like this for a week; Rogue would practice her flight and strength in accordance with

getting Nightcrawler and Vamp from point A to point B. It was getting along very nicely.

When the week was over, and the three were toweling down, Rogue stopped and stared at

Vamp. “What are you thinking about, Bloodshot?” She patted her neck dry as Cheryl

grinned. “Well,” she said, as she tried to suppress the smile. “I was just thinking that I‟m

feeling all better, and so are you, so maybe we could go for some Frisbee tag before

dinner.” She looked over at Kurt who was looking between the two. “Oh man! First Vamp is already good at the game, and now Rogue has super powers.

The guys are gonna lose.” He sighed heavily and hung his head down. Cheryl patted his

shoulder. “It‟s okay. Really. I won‟t hurt you too badly.” They left the Danger Room, got

dressed, and left to find the other two players. Gambit was all for a game of Frisbee tag,

anything to get a chance of being next to Rogue. Evan, however, was not thrilled. “She has super strength! How are you going to confine that to ten feet?!” “Ah won‟t use it!” she yelled back. She was still sore about the new abilities,

especially when she could break a cup in her grip without realizing it. Cheryl shrugged. “She said she won‟t use it, so she won‟t. She‟ll only use her flight in ten feet, okay?”

She waited two seconds before heading out. The group hadn‟t been playing while the surfer

chick was down for the count. So they were definitely worried. Kurt retrieved the Frisbees

as before and they tracked into the forest. The game went better than expected. Spike didn‟t break any this time, but Gambit

accidentally charged one and it blew up. Rogue crushed one in her hand when she caught it

but she used her new found strength to her advantage later. As Gambit was about to throw,

Rogue pushed on a tree and uprooted it. It crashed near him and he was so startled, he

dropped the Frisbee. At the end of the game, Cheryl still won, even for being so tired

afterward. They joined the household for dinner and continued watching Avatar. They were

on the third season, with Cheryl thoroughly hooked. When Katara learned “blood bending”

everyone looked at Cheryl. “No,” she said calmly. “I cannot „blood bend‟.” “Why not?” Kurt slumped his shoulders in disappointment. The tanned vampire sat

up straighter. “It doesn‟t work like that! To move the blood in a person‟s body, not remove it, I

would need to stop the blood flow to move the body. Blood flow is important. It keeps

people alive.” They debated the issue until it was time for bed. Neither side conceded defeat

so it would be up for tomorrow.


Cheryl woke up early in the morning and got ready for her illustrious affair. Mel was

prepped with the perfectly made surfboard commissioned for Cheryl by her Uncle Danny.

The strawberry blonde slung her duffle bag into the back with the board and clicked the

security system off before sitting down. The drive was peaceful, the sky brightening from

the deep blue to bright blue; clouds sprinkled among the open sky. Then Mel stopped

suddenly. No breaking down, the engine still worked, still revved, but wouldn‟t work. With a

very confused frown, Cheryl turned off the engine and stepped out of the car. She looked

around the vehicle, nothing in its path or under it. Then she noticed that Mel‟s tires were a

few inches above the road. “What the hell?” “I thought it would get your attention.” Floating in the air up the road was a man

dressed in purple and red with a cape, boots and a funny looking helmet. Was this guy

serious? And Cheryl thought the training suit was bad. The funny man floated over to her

and extended a hand. “I am Magneto, Master of Magnetism and I have come to offer you the chance to join

me.” He stayed silent as Cheryl stared at him. “I hope that‟s not a marriage proposal,” she said at last. “I don‟t think I would like

what you‟re into.” She grinned cherry red. Magneto was not amused by the comment. “Are you mocking me?” His voice rumbled on the quiet road. Cheryl still smiled. “No, if I wanted to mock you I would go „mock, mock, mock!‟ But I‟m not. I‟m a

student of Professor Xavier and I don‟t like changing teams. I‟m just the red cross, I‟m more

of a pacifist. Not to mention, what is up with that bucket on your head. I can‟t imagine it

being very effective.” She hooked her hands on her shorts and grinned wider. Magneto

flexed his hands before extending one at Mellony. CRUNCH! Cheryl stopped smiling and

screamed. “Mellony!” She ran her hands over the intricate paint detail in a panic. Her eyes

flashed to the floating figure and transformed into Angry Cheryl. Angry Cheryl was not a

very easy person to deal with, especially about things she cared about. “That had better not been the shell and you had better fix that!” She started

marching at him when he turned to give her his full attention. “You just called yourself the red cross. Does that mean you‟re prepared to heal your

enemies as well?” “Yeah, sure,” she replied after a minute through her teeth. “You have to understand

that I‟ll heal my team first, but I‟ll heal both sides. The only time is when the person is pure

evil, but I‟ve never met such a person. Now fix my Mellony!” She glared up at the floating

figure in front of her. No one messed with her precious Mellony. No one! The man nodded

his head. “Very well.” He extended his arm again. Metal screeched again from under the jeep.

He nodded again, the work was done. “We will meet again, Cheryl Davis.” He started to float away when the small girl

thought of something. “Wait!” she called. Magneto looked back at her. She absently rubbed the jeep‟s hood. “Do you have any tips on flying?” She watched with dismay as he didn‟t answer but

fly away again. She set her shoulders back and ground her teeth. She set off a slew of

words in a different language that would make even Logan blush in shock. She stomped

back to Mel and hugged the hood. “It‟s okay Mel. The bad helmet man is gone.” She patted the hood again before

driving off to her crashing waves and foaming sea. Glad to see the man gone and knowing

that her Mel was safe now. Hopefully the rest of her day wouldn‟t be as eventful.

She started Mel and headed back toward the beach hoping to sooth herself with a

nice ride on the waves.


“Damn it! He didn‟t give me his insurance.” Now she would have to see him again,

he owed her for the damage he did to her sweet Mellony. Oh he would pay, she‟d make

sure of it. 12

1 Note that is an X-man fan fiction.

2 The Story does continue on after this but I’m still working on it.

Krystal leigh word

Health & Medicine

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