Title: Redemption Spoken Here
Author: Arsenic
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: m/f (Faith/Wolverine)
Fandom: XOVER, Buffy/X-Men
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Mutant Productions are the geniuses behind Faith, Marvel lays claim to everyone else.
Thanks: To Chuck, for playing detail-beta and just being all around encouraging. I won't have to shoot myself out of a canon at you after all.
Summary: The X-Men pick up a new member while trying to put an end to the latest incarnation of anti-mutant legislation.

*

This was not good.

For a moment, Faith tried to assess that thought. Jail had not been good. Knowing she deserved to be there had not been good. The past five years of what she snidely referred to as "redemption-hunting," hadn't really been all that good.

On a day-to-day basis, Faith tended to count the fact that she was still alive and well past the expected age of survival for a Slayer as good and left it at that. Unfortunately, being held firmly in the grip of an unusually large Omega Sentinel and having already used all the weapons she carried to fend off the other three, Faith was willing to admit that things were not looking fantastic right at that moment. She struggled uselessly as the hulk of remote-controlled human began to move, still holding her struggling above ground in its fists.

"I'm not a mutant, asshole!" She berated herself for actually bothering to yell at a programmed amalgamation of man and nano-technology. Mutant or not, it had been clear for almost a year now that the Omega Sentinels thought she was one. Faith had to wonder if there was something they didn't know about Slayer genes. Perhaps being a Slayer meant that you carried the X-gene. In which case, the gene had been around a lot longer than anyone had previously assumed. Whatever was the truth, it had become something of a nuisance having to fight the things off at least once a week.

She sighed. She had gotten bad about hiding since prison. They had let her go at the end of the term so there had been no reason to constantly find shadows in which to lurk. Besides, she was amazed to find that sometimes when you were on the "good" side, people were willing to do what they could to help out. Not all the time, not even most of the time, but enough of it that Faith had bothered to stay on "the light side of the force" even while she scolded herself for it.

Half of her was relieved at her own capture, not that she would have admitted it to herself. The running was getting tiresome. Realistically, she knew that whatever they were doing with assumed mutants was not pretty, but she figured she could handle things one step at a time.

She was thrown into the back of a van with enough force to send her crashing against the partition that kept the passengers from the driver. She blinked fervently, trying to clear the mist in front of her eyes. Passing out right at that moment wasn't getting safety votes from any part of her psyche.

The van jolted and she pitched forward, hissing as she landed on her elbow. The elbow had been severely burnt by a laser blast in a fight with a Sentinel two days before. Her body was a maze of injuries, some more serious than others, from the continuous fight. Her healing ability wasn't working as well as usual due to sleep that was finicky at best and the lack of nutrients she was getting on a daily basis. At first she hadn't even thought about going into places labeled "No Mutants," but people had begun to see her injuries as what they were and cause trouble. Then there was the issue of the Sentinels that stood guard at some of those places. The whole of the story was that food and sleep hadn't been easily attained for near to a year.

Faith dug her fingernails into her palm and concentrated on the sensation so as not to think about the others. When she was sure she had succeeded she looked up to see the other passengers in the van. There were three; all had the surface appearance of being completely normal. One, a boy who couldn't have been more than twelve, stared at everything as if it were going to grow teeth and eat him.

Faith picked herself off the floor and sat herself on the bench next to the kid, seeing as how he was the only one on it and there were two women on the seat directly across. The women held onto each other as if surgically attached. For all Faith knew, with mutants, they could have been. The kid whimpered and Faith moved away to give him most of the bench. She wasn't going to tell him it would be okay, bullshitting was only her specialty when the person on the receiving end deserved what they got.

"Anybody know where we're heading?" Faith asked the question quietly, not wanting to alarm the boy. Both girls shook their head simultaneously and Faith almost went in for a closer look as to whether they were attached.

They spoke up at one time. "There are rumors of detention camps, like the Japanese in World War II."

Faith decided the connection was psychic, if nothing else. "I know, believe me, there isn't a rumor I haven't heard." It was like that when you were never in one place for long. She didn't tell the others that detention camps were some of the nicer rumors she had heard. Leaning her head back against the side of the van, she closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind. She was going to have to be constantly aware if she wanted to get away now.

*

Wolverine cursed loudly as the Professor's voice broke into his REM cycle. "I need you." All the same, he got out of bed and made his way down the hall. Halfway there he met up with Gambit. The Cajun looked about as thrilled as him to be out of bed.

"'Ev'nin, mon ami."

"Mornin's more like it, Gumbo."

Gambit shrugged and they rounded a corner to the core of the X-men facility where Professor Xavier sat waiting. Jean and Scott were off on vacation, despite the protests of Xavier and Logan -- in Jean's case -- that things with the Sentinels were too hot. Not to mention the fact that nobody seemed able to track down the truth of where mutants were being taken. All the Professor could sense when he went into Cerebro was suffering, and a weird sensation that hinted at brainwashing, neither of which told them much.

Storm stood with her palms down against the computer's console managing to look regal and alert even with 'possum eyes. Rogue leaned with one foot against the wall, decidedly annoyed, blowing part of her streak out of her eyes. Beast studied something on the screen looking weary. Bobby leaned over his shoulder but didn't ask for him to explain. Not that Beast would have gotten upset if he had, but even Bobby knew when to lay off at times. Warren smiled tolerantly at the patience Bobby was displaying even as he crossed the room to pull the younger man away. Nightcrawler entered last and with him a certain calm that he always seemed to bring entered the room.

Xavier gave the current team a tight smile. "Sorry to have to wake you again."

Rogue shrugged as if to point out that none of them really blamed him. He continued. "Cerebro just picked up another 'Mutant Recon Mission.'"

Hank, Kurt, Logan and Storm excluded, they all rolled their eyes. Mutant Reconassaince Missions were what the government had named the hunt and gather session of the Sentinels that they had unleashed to following year. It made the whole thing sound like a military operation. After all, if there was anything the average American trusted to protect them, it was the military.

"Where are we going Professor?" Storm had taken over as team leader in the absence of Scott.

"I'll give you the exact coordinates. You, Wolverine, Nightcrawler and Rogue will be going." He took a breath before his next comment. "I don't want you to stop the van this time."

"What?" Bobby sounded as if the suggestion had been taking up cannibalism. "That's so not a good idea, we have no idea where these people are being taken-"

Xavier held up a hand. "I know Bobby, which is why I want them to follow. Let this van get taken. There are four people in it, and while I hate the idea of sacrificing a few for the greater good, in this case, I think it might be necessary. We've been chasing rumors as to where the Sentinels are taking mutants for a year. It's time to find the truth. Let this van get taken in. When you have the location of the camp, and anything else you can find out without being seen, come back here and we will figure out what the plan is. Hopefully, we can get back in time to get not only the latest passengers but all the others we've missed." He looked at all of them to see a reluctant agreement in their eyes. He understood. He hated asking them to do this almost as much as they would hate doing it. Which is why he didn't tell them that one of the people in the van was a child, that two of them were sisters, psychically and physically linked or that one of them was confused as to whether she was a mutant or not -- she seemed to have another title for herself -- Slayer.

The assembled team shared a look between them. Each nodded and together, they headed out the door. Gambit squeezed Rogue's gloved hand on her way past him. "Good luck, chere."

*

Faith felt the van come to a stop and made herself loosen up so that she wouldn't be too tense to force herself into motion if an opportunity to get out of the situation arose. It was less than a second later that she realized the smell in the van had changed to decidedly metallic. "Shit. Try not to breath." The girls looked at her like she was crazy but followed her instructions anyway. The kid just pinched his nose and closed his mouth. She wondered how long they would send the stuff into the van and how long after it would take for the air to clear. Probably longer than any of them could hold out, including her. Which didn't change her decision not to breathe.

She was surprised when the girls gave in before the boy. Not that he was long in following. She only lasted a few seconds after him. She took two frantic, clawing breaths before succumbing to the drug filling the air.

She woke up to the smell of disinfectant, naked, her arms and legs rendered immobile. She practically laughed at her first thought -- a sober "panic won't help anything."

"Yeah, but it would make me feel a lot better." She hoped the cameras in each corner of the ceiling didn't have audio. It was rarely good for a captor to think its captive crazy. "Shit." Faith decided that would be the word of the evening. If it was still evening. She hoped the others were somewhere that didn't involve industrial strength Lysol and metal restraints.

She forced herself not to start when the door swished open. Two men in lab coats entered. "So this is the little girl who's evaded us for so long."

Faith wondered how they figured twenty-three years fit into the "girl" category. She noticed immediately that one of them was obviously mutant. The yellow eyes and slightly clawed hands were a dead give away. The other man looked homo-sapien, but then, so had the kid she had ridden with in the van. Evidently, most mutants looked pretty normal.

Cat-boy spoke up. "She has unprecedented strength in a female and enormous healing capabilities."

Faith was glad they hadn't heard about some of the more "spiritual" abilities she had discovered in years past. She had met up with Buffy about two years ago. It had taken a few hours of ass-kicking on both sides before they would admit to having mellowed and could talk about things that mattered, such as things they had discovered in and about themselves. Some of the things they had revealed to each other about working not only with body but mind as well had been eerie at best. The fact that the only oddities these men seemed to notice were physical was reassuring.

Normal-boy answered him after a period of thought. "Do you mind if I poke around, see if there is anything else to know?"

Faith had to think about the words before their implication would set in. As soon as it did she tried her best to make her mind a total blank. Like hell was she going to just lie down and take a mind-rape. She held back a grimace as cat-boy nodded and hoped she had done a sufficient job of hiding everything important. The psychic closed his eyes and she waited for some kind of sensation, but to her surprise felt nothing. It was no more than five minutes before he opened them again and spoke. "She thinks she may have powers on a higher level than just physical, but she's about as sure as we are." He smirked at her.

Cat-boy crossed his arms. "Suggestions?"

"On her part? Well, we could try some structural strengthening, something similar to what was rumored to have been done up in Canada some years back, not as extensive, I don't think her healing powers are as strong as that test-subjects were. As far as breeding goes, crossing her with Triton and Kent might be to our best advantage."

Cat-boy nodded thoughtfully. "That would give the offspring an advantage on any type of terrain, but what about innate weaponry?"

The psychic looked as though he had been expecting the question. "The strength she carries, enhanced by the others should be more than enough to utilize in any given fight." As he said this he began walking towards the door, cat-boy following.

Faith realized her breathing had become shallow and fought to deepen it. Mutants doing tests on other mutants? Breeding? What the fuck was going on here? Sentinels had been sent out in a bill passed by Congress, largely due to the efforts of one Congressman, Brian D. Covel of Texas. They were supposed to be "protecting U.S. citizens" from the "danger" presented by mutants. Somehow, she didn't think the fact that mutants seemed to be in charge here made her situation any better.

She closed her eyes. Shit.

*

When the team of four reported back to the Professor on where they had followed the van to, each of them had something to say about how they saw things. Storm was the first, given her position as team leader. "The...facility is a couple of miles outside suburban New Jersey. We counted twenty buildings that we could see from the North side. There seems to be two entrances, one on the North side and one on the East. This is assuming there is no underground complex, which I wouldn't be so quick to rule out."

Rogue cut in: "Professor, they dragged the prisoners out of the van, like they was dead. Wolv'rine says they was jus' drugged."

Feeling like he had been given an opening, Wolverine jumped in. "The guards who took the prisoners in -- at least one of them was a mutant. He had webbed hands. One of the women had a smell that was maybe half-human, probably not that much."

Nightcrawler rounded things out. "Maybe the guards we saw were prisoners they managed to scare into going against other mutants, but the whole place felt wrong. I couldn't see much from the spots I could 'port into without being noticed, but there were people walking around in lab coats, I couldn't tell if they were mutant or not."

"The entire place smelled like some kind of sinister hospital room." Wolverine snarled.

The Professor "glanced" mentally in that direction to make sure Wolverine was doing alright considering the memories that smell probably brought up in the man. "Very well. We'll sit down in the morning after you've gotten some rest and breakfast and talk about their defenses and what we can do to breach them. Now that we know location I will see if Cerebro and I can't figure out approximately how many mutants there are to recover. Failing that we'll just have to go with the most logical estimate we can come up with of how many might be there." He nodded and turned to go.

Rogue headed off with a not-so-cheery, "Night, dahlin's."

Storm gave Wolverine and Nightcrawler a tight smile and left as well. Kurt turned to face Wolverine. "Everything okay with you, mein fruende?"

Wolverine looked up, surprised. "Yeah, just had a weird sensation earlier. The girl they pulled out of the van, the one by herself, she seemed...not familiar..." He shook his head. "Probably just exhaustion, I'm back in bed."

Nightcrawler watched as the other man left the room speedily. He was of the belief that Wolverine's instincts were more dead-on than most statistics reports. Whatever the man's connection to the girl, he hoped she stayed well long enough for them to discover it.

*

Faith was aware that she had probably been asleep for quite some time when a woman in a white coat came into the room. Faith took a glance to assess that she looked human on the surface and was also wearing a white coat. The glance told her something else she wasn't so thrilled to discover. She was carrying a large syringe.

"Mind telling me what's in that?" Faith didn't really expect an answer, but figured it was worth a try and the time that it would distract the "nurse" from getting busy with the needle.

To Faith's surprise, the woman smiled at her, not without sympathy. "It's something like a steroid." She hesitated. "It supposed to help with recovery from the surgery."

Well, at least answers were forthcoming, if not the most illuminating. "What kind of surgery?"

"Depends. With some of us it was pure gene splicing, with others they actually altered their physical build." The nurse's voice shook so softly Faith almost missed it.

She wanted to get mad at somebody and the woman made a convenient target. Sometimes she wished she could get rid of the conscience that her days with the Scooby Gang seemed to have implanted, or at least dug up from under a lot of inner garbage. "Shit."

Shocking her again, the woman laughed. "That's one way of putting it. Most people scream at me or try to get out of the bonds." She glanced at Faith's bleeding wrists. "I see you've already gone that route." She swabbed at Faith's thigh and administered the shot. Faith gritted her teeth. The needle hurt and the drug burned as it suffused into her bloodstream.

Faith felt her chest getting tighter. She wanted to scream but didn't know where to find the air for it so she settled for a whimper. Far away, she heard the swish of the door and dimly recognized that she was alone again. Closing her eyes against walls that had become painfully bright, she tried shutting out the pounding of her pulse. She slipped away from her fear to one of the mental escapes she had built up in her mind. This particular one concerned having gotten to stay with Angel, fighting the forces of evil with someone at her side. By the time her breathing began to return to normal, it hurt even to think about inhaling. All the same, Faith snarled determinedly when Cat-boy walked back in the room with his oh-so-clinical white coat.

He came to her side and gave her an assessing look up and down. He swabbed her arm and she received her second injection of the day. This one was little more than a bee sting, if that noticeable. The results, which came upon her less than five minutes later, could at best have been called a slight numbness. Her definition of not good got busy being modified.

The other mutant from before joined Cat-boy with two others whom she didn't recognize. All of them were in scrubs. She had to hold herself back from fighting when Cat-boy asked for a surgical tool. Struggling would probably just cause damage to herself. Not that she could move very much, but she didn't want to find out what a little motion would do to the overall proceedings.

The cutting was sheer agony through a softly shielded haze of whatever painkillers they had given her. She concentrated on not crying. Crying wasn't something she was ashamed to do, but she chose the times when she let go of things in that particular way. Not here, in front of people who would note down her tears in a medical journal like they would the eating habits of a rat.

Implements prodded at the newly opened skin and the world around her got fuzzy. Determinedly, she climbed mentally towards the fuzziness. Crying she would not indulge in, but she was all for passing out.

*

The Professor had spent the better part of the morning with Cerebro. Knowing what he was looking for -- a camp run by a majority of mutants rather than humans -- helped immensely. When he emerged, Hank and Ororo joined him in laying out physical representations of the camp and figuring out numbers of guards, shifts, and other logistics.

Like most people planning to infiltrate a heavily guarded institution, their advantage always fell at night. The rest of the team joined the three planners after lunch and discussed the plans. All in all, knowing the location made things somewhat obvious. The team had fought sentinels and other mutants before. They just had to hope the Professor was right when he said that there wasn't anything by way of surprises.

The team set off at nightfall, all of them this time. Nightcrawler was to go in first, teleporting past the wall in an easterly part of the camp which was in the middle of a guard change, making it easier for him to slip deeper into the camp without notice. The hope was that he could discreetly open the gate closest to him from the inside, allowing the rest of the team inside. Once there, each member with the exception of Bobby and Gambit was assigned the job of getting prisoners out of their designated structures. The two left out had the responsibility of fending off guards or sentinels that caught on.

The plan went smoothly for the better part of it. Nightcrawler made it in without incident and let the team in with relatively few casualties to the other side. The team spread out, Sentinels none the wiser. After all, they were just more mutants. The evacuation was slow, however. If large groups moved out at once, somebody would be sure to notice that. Gambit and Iceman did a nice job of quietly eliminating anyone who seemed to suspect something. When all the sleeping quarters were empty, Wolverine volunteered to search those facilities that had been deemed "non-residential."

It wasn't until the last building that he found something. Someone. He was itching to get out of the place. It was like a hospital, only without the whole hope-you-get-better atmosphere. Everything felt like a sort of horrific real-time deja vu. Storm's voice filtered softly through his communication unit. "Logan, we have to get out of here, someone is going to start noticing how many guards we've put down."

"Give me a minute, I smell somethin'." He ducked out of sight of a team of men in lab coats. He was amazed he could pick up anything over the disinfectants, but she was there. Her, and the lingering odor of her fear. He sped up without making anymore sound than he had moving slower. The smell grew stronger and Wolverine slipped inside a door to his left.

The first thing he saw when he entered the room was the woman on the table. It was the same one from the van and he fought the overwhelming sensation of being connected to concentrate on the situation at hand. She was restrained, her wrists showing signs of struggle. Her eyes were closed in sleep, and he deemed it most likely that she had passed out, judging by the fact that four people stood over her, one cutting with a surgical tool. He growled.

Before any of them could ask any questions, Wolverine attacked the man with the feline qualities. Within seconds, he was fighting all four "doctors." His claws and feet slashed and kicked at his opponents, eventually eliminating each. He grimaced as deep gashes made with scalpels and claws heated up in his body's ritual of quick-time healing. As rapidly as possible, he found the release for the restraints holding the girl down to the table and took her in his arms. Running down the hall he keyed the com and spoke to Storm. "Get the team to the Blackbird, I need a pick-up."

"Two minutes Logan, be outside the building."

He didn't bother responding, too busy clutching the girl close to him and avoiding the random people that walked unsuspectingly down the hall. In the closest thing to a miracle that he could think of, Wolverine made it out without incident. It was seconds before the ship was above him and he was running up its ramp. He collapsed into a chair not releasing the woman. If anything, he held her tighter. "The others are safe?"

Beast nodded. "Rogue and Gambit have got them at a safe house a couple of miles out of here, we are going to do runs all night to get them back to the school."

Bobby felt that enough pertinent information had been shared for him to safely interrupt. "You're carrying a naked woman."

Wolverine looked down and realized for the first time that Bobby was right. He felt something being dropped and looked up at Nightcrawler dangling the blanket they kept in the first-aid kit at his side. He took it and covered her hastily. "Thanks."

Nightcrawler nodded and sat back down. "Ja, you're welcome. She's bleeding."

Wolverine held back a growl. "They were cutting her, she needs to be looked at."

Beast's voice was gentle, even for the generally laid-back scientist. "The Professor and I shall do what we can when we get back."

Wolverine tightened his grip even further, then instinctively let go, almost dropping her, at the soft moan that emanated up. Carefully, concentrating on one task at a time, Wolverine wrapped her up in the blanket and settled her as comfortably as possible. When he was finished, he looked up at Hank piloting the ship and grunted a word that could have been interpreted as "thanks."

*

It struck Faith when she awoke that the lab looked different. Dazedly she wondered if the steroids were screwing with her visual perception. She ignored the suggestion in the back of her throat that it could have been something they had done to her. Her right shoulder throbbed and she reached up to examine it gingerly with her left hand. Which was when she realized that she wasn't restrained. Nor, for that matter, naked.

She slowly levered herself up, having to stop and tamp down on dizziness twice. Panting, she stared straight ahead at what appeared to be a large blue monkey. The monkey spoke. "You woke up quickly. I am glad, that is a good sign."

Faith tried to understand. It came to her that if the creature cared that she had woken up he might be willing to answer a few questions. Quickly she figured out the most vital information needed at that moment. "Um. Where am I?" It came out more like a bunch of vowels on the tongue of a native German speaker, and the blue man came nearer. She flinched and came close to putting her hands into a defensive position before she realized that he was handing her water. Her fingers felt oddly detached as she reached for the glass. He helped support its weight even as he reminded her to drink slowly. After a few sips, he stole the glass away. She tried the question again. "Where am I?"

"A school for gifted children run by Professor Charles Xavier in upstate New York." His voice was calming.

She frowned. "I don't think I was here when I fell asleep."

"Went unconscious would be a more accurate term, Miss...?"

Giving him props for the candid reply she said her name without really thinking about whether that was a terribly good idea or not. "Faith, just Faith."

"Ah, well, I am Dr. Henry McCoy, but I prefer Hank. Some call me Beast." He smiled.

"You're a doctor." She hated knowing she sounded stupid. "They gave me steroids and tried to operate. Do you know what they did?" She gave herself a mental pat for having asked the whole question without a waver.

"My friend Logan did not like what he saw them doing to you. As far as the operation goes, they got as far as making an incision. We doused you with saline when we got back, hopefully it purged most of the steroids. You have shown amazing recuperative abilities. Not like Logan, but better than anyone else I have ever treated or studied."

She nodded. If it hadn't been for Slayer healing she would never have woken up from the eight-month coma, or made it through countless injuries since that day of waking. She made herself think of more questions. "How did you find me? Why did you take me out?"

"We had been looking for the camp since the time of the Mutant Reconaisance Mission's employment. You were injured."

Faith laughed at the seeming obviousness of his second answer. He looked at her with concern and she felt that the least she could do was explain. "For someone who has done a lot of nasty shit in her life, I have the sometimes dubious luck of repeatedly running into do-gooders."

Hank blinked slowly at this. "I do not think Logan would be thrilled with having that adjective connected to him in any way."

"Logan. The guy who took me out." Faith was still having a little trouble concentrating.

"Yes, he will want to know that you have woken up. I should tell the Professor as well." He keyed a small letter x encased in a circle worn at his waist and spoke into it. "The girl is awake."

Faith twisted her lips slightly. Twenty-three was no age for people to still be calling you a girl. Then again, she had no idea how old Hank was. It would not have bothered her to hear Angel call her a girl. Admittedly, if she got the chance to see Angel again, she'd let him do things that were considerably more annoying than taking jabs at her looks. She started at the roughened voice that filtered back through Hank's device. "We're on our way."

The way must not have been long because two men, one in a wheelchair, entered the infirmary no more than a minute later. The one in the wheelchair glided to the bedside and held out a hand. "I'm Professor Charles Xavier."

She clasped his hand as firmly as she could. Friendly or not, giving them a first impression of her as a weakling didn't seem like that good of an idea. "Faith."

The other man, the one who stood near her feet stretched his hand out as well. "I'm Logan. Code-name Wolverine."

She took his hand and pressed hard. For some reason it seemed imperative that he see her, Faith, woman-who-could-kick-your-ass, not a "girl" in a bed wearing more needles than clothes. She conveniently ignored the fact that he had seen her without either. His hands were warm and careful in the restraint of obvious strength. He did not look like a careful man. His whole appearance reeked of testosterone, from the worn flannel to the scruffy facial hair. Faith let it pass through her mind that the finely toned muscles and compact build truly lent itself to the nickname Wolverine. That and the way his smile, subdued though it was, resembled a protective snarl. What threw her was the way his eyes reminded her of eyes she saw every time she got the chance to look in the mirror.

Trying to recover herself before she started gaping or drooling, she found what she had wanted to tell him. "I heard I have you to thank for rescuing my sorry, damsel-in-distress ass."

It occurred to Logan that her ass was anything but sorry and there was a flash of shock in his eyes before he covered it with that half-snarl, this time far more carefree than protective.

She looked at him uncertainly for a moment, unsure of the significance behind his expression. Refocusing, she formed a question, "Professor, you run this place, right?"

He nodded and she drew a breath. "Is there something I can do for you, a favor in return for the hospitality?"

She caught the flash of sadness in the Professor's serene expression but did not understand the meaning of it. He shook his head. "I would like you to stay until you are better, perhaps allow me to have a conversation with you about your powers, that is all."

"I hate to disappoint, but I'm not a mutant."

Beast was perched on one of the counters close to the bed. "That is not what the Sentinels believe. Not to mention the healing capabilities that I noticed in you."

Faith thought it was amazing how such a large creature positioned in that way could look so natural. "Fast healing, superhuman strength and reflexes, heightened sensory perception, possible unknown strengths on the spiritual plane. I'm not saying I don't have abnormalities. As far as I know, though, I received them from a different power-that-be than the x-gene."

Wolverine crossed his arms and gave her a skeptical look. The Professor had an expression that reminded her of Giles when he found a particularly interesting text. She almost sighed. In one way or another, she always seemed to end up a lab rat. Xavier interrupted her self-pity. "And what would those powers be?"

She closed her eyes, trying to give the impression of being tired. "Ones that have been around a hell of a lot longer than modern science."

Xavier was not fooled by her act, but her answer intrigued him and he was willing to leave things alone now if it meant getting more answers later. "I'll leave you to get some rest. If you are up to it, I'd like you to consider joining us for dinner tonight." He turned to leave and Hank followed directly behind. When she opened her eyes, Wolverine was still standing at the foot of the bed, surveying her.

"When he says us, who does that include?" Faith was surprised at how glad she felt that he had stayed.

"The X-men, other mutants. You should try and sleep."

"Are you staying?" It came out half-suspicious, half-longing. Faith barely kept herself from cringing.

"I'll be here." He placed a hand lightly on the blanket where it covered her feet. The weight felt comforting.

She didn't have time to be amazed at how quickly sleep came.

*

Her hand was enclosed around the neck of the person shaking her awake before her eyes had a chance to open. When she got around to looking, she snatched back her hand and mumbled an apology.

Wolverine took a breath that was only slightly deeper than normal. "Nice grip, sleepyhead. Hank says he can take all those wires outta ya if you're up to coming to dinner. Ororo brought by some clothes she hopes will fit."

She looked in the direction of a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. "How long was I asleep?"

"Almost four hours."

"I hope you didn't stay that whole time. Wouldn't say much for your social life."

He didn't say anything, glancing at the door as Hank entered. "Good evening, miss." Hank gave her a smile so kind it would have had most female's knees in jello puddles on the floor had he not been made primarily of blue fur. It made her smile back. He carefully took out the I.V.'s, all the while prattling about the possibilities of her gene make-up and other things she didn't understand. His touch was soft and deft and Faith was surprised and a little concerned at the near-absence of any tenseness on her part. It had been well before she had ever met up with Buffy that someone could touch her without sparking a huge part of her self-defense mechanism, and the people who generally touched her didn't have twice her mass. Not that she felt she couldn't take Hank, just that she wouldn't ever have the need. She didn't want to think how soft that made her.

When she was completely disconnected she swung her legs over the table and was pleased not to feel any ill-effects. Using a hand to clasp the back of her hospital-issue gown so that it closed, she walked to the table where the clothes were and turned around to give both men in the room a wryly expectant look. Hank did the equivalent of what she assumed was blushing in his case and bounded to the door, Wolverine heading there directly behind him without a word. Alone for the first time in what she imagined was close to three days now, Faith considered whether it was time to slip out. Assuming that was a possibility -- she would have to figure out what this place's security measures looked like. She took a breath and reminded herself that nothing so far had lent evidence to the idea that she was a prisoner. Pulling the shirt over her head, she let the fact that she was hungry manifest itself in her mind. It had been since noon of the day she was captured since she had eaten. Free food was always a good reason to stay somewhere, at least for as long as it stayed free. Wiggling into jeans that were slightly too long and hung at her hips, she decided that for the moment, this place was as good as any.

She padded out to where Wolverine and Hank were waiting and gestured for them to lead the way. Even being taller than Wolverine, she felt dwarfed. "Would it be possible for me to get some shoes? Kicking someone's ass barefoot can hurt, and with all the shit I seem to have attracted lately, I'm thinking pretty highly of being ready to deal with what comes at you."

"Shoes, I'll have to think on that one and get back to you." Wolverine never even looked at her as he said it.

"I can pay the school, or whatever, back for everything. I just need the basics and I can be on my way." She was all about not overstaying her welcome, assuming she was correct about not being a prisoner. As for the financial situation, she wasn't lying when she promised to return the money, but she'd have to find some way to make it first. Pretty much everything she'd had was wherever her last outfit now resided. The kind of jobs she was hired for weren't exactly the kind you paid for with credit. When her employers paid. In that brief time when she had stayed with Angel, he had talked to her for hours just so things wouldn't get silent. At the time she had been amused by the way Cordelia acted as the sensible financial party of the business, but the longer she tried to survive day-to-day in the Slayer/Good Samaritan line of work, the more she was willing to admit the valley girl had had a point.

"Unless you're a Versace kind of woman, I don't think it is goin' to put a big dent in the Professor's pockets."

Hank jumped in at this point. "What the barbarian is trying to say is that we would be glad to take you out and get you anything you want as soon as possible."

Faith smiled at Wolverine's pronunciation of Versace, the last part having rhymed with lace. She tilted her head at Hank and pretended the smile was for him. "Thanks."

In front of them were two beautifully carved wooden doors. Hank and Wolverine each pulled one back and Hank motioned in a gentlemanly manner for Faith to enter. She was a little nonplussed when Wolverine moved quickly past her, a look of pleasant surprise on his face. His gaze went straight to the woman and man in conversation with the Professor. His eyes lingered in connection with those of the woman's for slightly longer than was strictly necessary for a greeting. The man standing beside her wore opaque glasses, but Faith could have sworn he was scowling at Wolverine. Wolverine ignored him, addressing the woman. "When did you get back, Jeannie?"

The man answered. "The Professor asked us to cut vacation a little short in light of having found one of the camps." The Professor looked past the three people right in front of him at Faith. "Good evening, I'm glad to see you could join us. Would you like to meet the rest of the team?"

"Team? I really only follow rugby, and that's just when I get the chance."

Wolverine snickered. The man who was now holding "Jeannie's" hand looked amused, but with the glasses, Faith wasn't sure what to think. The Professor's lips quirked but he just started to introduce the others in the room. "The two here," he pointed to the man and woman holding hands, "are Scott Summers and-"

"Lemme guess, Jeannie."

The Professor nodded his head. "Close enough, actually Jean Grey. At the foot of the table is Kurt. Going around the table clockwise from where Kurt is would be Remy, Rogue, Ororo, Warren and Bobby. Everyone, as you may or may not have heard, this is Faith."

"Welcome to the homestead, sugah." Rogue sat down in the chair behind her, propping one leg up at the knee over its armrest.

Faith smiled, she liked the woman's style, from the accent to the stark white streak of hair that defined her looks. Taking all of it in, her gaze lingered on Jean. It was obvious Wolverine was infatuated with the woman and even more obvious that she and Scott were together. It didn't surprise Faith that the woman would have two men chasing her. She had a body that monks would consider sinning for and a face that told the world she worked for the good guys. It was like looking at a fire-haired Buffy. If the Scooby Team had a guy with blue fur and a tail this time, well, each to their own. She finished her perusal of "the team," gave a little wave to everyone and moved to sit down. When everyone was in chairs, she found herself sitting between Kurt and Wolverine. Next to Wolverine on the other side was Jean and on her other side, Scott. Pushing everything else out of her mind, Faith looked at the food on the table and stood up to help herself to a little of everything.

*

By the time Wolverine managed to get back to his room that evening, all he wanted was time to think.

He had missed Jean while she was away, been looking forward to her return since she had stepped off the property. While admitting that he knew he would never have her was way up there on the list of things he would never do -- right alongside with telling Scott he actually did hold a rather large amount of admiration for the team leader -- he had known it was the truth for more years than he cared to count. This did not mean that he had stopped loving the woman. Sometimes he was convinced that the more unattainable she grew the more he wanted her.

Which was why tonight had been so confusing. He had been excited that she had returned, yes. Not half as excited as he should have been though. He knew she had felt it, she had stolen him away from the others for a few minutes to check and see that everything was alright. He had told her it was, to the best of his knowledge, at any rate.

The girl -- woman -- he had pulled out of that camp was messing with his equilibrium. She raised the hairs on the back of his neck at the same time that she seemed familiar and safe.

She was beautiful in a femme fatale kind of way. Black hair that fell to her shoulder blades in layers, full lips that constantly gave the impression of being wet, and smooth black eyes. Smooth when they weren't letting something past her barriers. Her body was nothing to scoff at either, but he had met good-looking women many a time over the years that he had been with the X-men. None of them had come close to attracting him in the way Jean had. He wondered if she had some kind of charm power. She probably didn't know it if she did, unless she was hiding a lot more knowledge than she had shared earlier about her abilities. Interesting that she didn't seem to think she was a mutant; she didn't strike him as the type to be ashamed of something you couldn't change about yourself. Everything else, yeah, but the physical who, where and what, that just didn't come across as being her style.

He was aware that he was ten times over a fool if he fell for her. They knew absolutely nothing about the woman. Not her age, where she came from, last name. The word enigma might as well have been a synonym for "raging fire" as far as he was concerned -- something you just didn't play with.

*

For her part, Faith was having her very own self-conversation in the room they had provided for her after being escorted there by the hyper-charming Remy. She had turned to him when he pointed out her door and stopped. "Can I ask you a question?"

He had eyed her curiously, red eyes flashing with something other than charm for the first time in hours. "What be on your mind, chere?"

"Rogue, the way you act around her. It's not my business and I'll probably be outta here before dinner tomorrow anyway," she had discerned that her status was not that of prisoner by this point, "but it's real obvious you guys are wack for each other, so I was just wondering-"

"Why it's gone no further 'dan kisses on 'de hand and lustin' looks?" Remy appeared half-amused, half-saddened.

She tilted her head. "You don't have to tell me."

"When Rogue come in contact wit' someone, she steal 'der life-force, wit' mutants it be mostly 'der powers, all 'de same..."

Faith thought of the "man" whose love only lead to the disappearance of his soul and understood. She reached out and squeezed his hand in sympathy. He looked at her with eyes that glowed questions. She shrugged. "She reminds me of a guy I once knew."

Remy had narrowed his eyes. "A friend?"

"Someone I wish I could have called that."

Remy seemed to hear and understand the regret in her voice. He had left her with a kiss on the cheek and a distinctly friendly smile. Left her to think about the choice that had led to her having those regrets and the choice she was going to have to make again soon.

"To stay or not to stay, that is the fucking question." She collapsed onto her back over the bed. She could go easily, nobody here was going to stop her. Of course, she could stay just as easily.

It meant more responsibility. Staying with others -- being with others -- always did. It could also mean an ending to the insurmountable regrets that seemed to just keep building up. She was twenty-three and all she wanted to do was cry and sleep. Not that she would have let herself do the first or the second for any overwhelming amount of time. Which meant that both cravings went unrelieved.

She crawled up under the covers and hugged her arms around her torso. It had been a treat getting to eat with people. Sometimes she went for so long without having a conversation she got worried that if the opportunity ever arose she wouldn't remember how to conduct one. The people here had made it easy. Well, she had to give some credit to the fact that she didn't feel the pressing need to hide so many things about herself, but overall, the easy charm of Remy and Kurt, the way Warren listened so respectfully, Bobby's playfulness, Hank's quiet friendliness, and Rogue's sassiness had all made her feel like she wasn't just walking in on somebody else's dinner party. Even the ones she couldn't pin down a feeling on, like Jean and Scott and the Professor had managed to radiate what felt very close to genuine concern. It gave her the odd sensation of being near Angel again. She couldn't say she minded.

Then there was Wolverine. Logan. Wolverine. She knew less what to make of him than the rest piled together. She liked him, that much she could discern. Why was a different matter altogether. When he talked he was normally abrupt and straightforward. He could make you aware that you were being idiotic with a glance. His hands, when they had brushed hers reaching for the pepper, had felt as rough as a miner's. He was unkempt and while she found her pulse getting more active every time he came near, he was not what could be called traditionally good looking.

All that aside, his eyes said more than he wanted them to when he was laughing or glaring or simply listening to what was being said. His touches, both accidental and on purpose had been gentle and filled with respect. Finally, there was the fact that Hank seemed convinced the man had single-handedly fought off legions to get her out of whatever hellhole that lab had been. If even part of the tall-tale was true, he deserved her gratitude at the very least. She wondered what he would ask for if she told him she owed him. She wondered if he would ask for anything.

Setting that question aside for later, she made a pact with herself to stay at the school. At least until she had some idea of what was making the Sentinels come after her and ways to avoid them. She wouldn't mind helping out with taking apart these "camps" as she had heard some of the X-men call them. Helping others might have been good for the soul, but getting your own back on someone who had screwed with you was more often than not better. There were the added bonuses of consistent food and shelter and the Professor's offer to help her develop any skills they discovered or knew about but could improve. All things considered, it was a good deal. She rotated onto her other side, pulled the covers up until they came close to covering her entire head, and summarily fell asleep.

*

Faith woke up the next morning to the realization that quite a bit of light was filtering through the curtains. She got up and pulled them back only to find the sun smack in the middle of the sky. "Holy shit."

She couldn't remember the last time she had managed to sleep past the first moments of dawn. Stretching out as she walked, she headed toward the bathroom where she grabbed a quick shower, brushed her teeth and pulled her hair back. She found the outfit she had been wearing the night before and slipped into it. Opening the door, she stepped out and promptly tripped over a pair of shoes that had been set directly in front of her way out. She knelt down to retrieve the piece of paper sticking out of the right shoe and allowed herself to smile at the message.

"Told you I'd get back to you, sleepyhead." She couldn't decide whether she liked the fact that there was no signature or not. It was somewhat presumptuous, but then, it had been a long time since she had talked with anyone long enough that they could quote back parts of a conversation to her. She was going to have to talk to him about the nickname, though. She could just see it now: new mutant joins the X-men and Professor X introduces her. "This is Faith, code name Sleepyhead." That just wouldn't do.

She managed to find her way to the kitchen after asking for directions one time from a girl who Faith could only assume was a student at the school. When she got there, Warren, Bobby, Hank and Jean were eating lunch. Jean must have felt her there, because she was the first to look up and smile. Bobby actually glided across the room and took her hand in his, bestowing upon it a most gentlemanly kiss. Faith rolled her eyes and he went for an exaggerated wounded look. He escorted her to the table.

"Do the students at the school know about you guys?" Faith knew the moment she asked the question that if she hadn't been planning on staying before, she was now. You didn't bother to find out more about a place unless you had a reason to care.

Scott smiled as if she had said something funny. "The students are mutants. Each of us spends some of our time during the year going out and finding children whose gifts are in the manifestation period and convincing clueless parents that Xavier's School for the Gifted is the place for their kid."

Faith took this in with a nod. "Is there a store nearby and a car I can borrow? I can't go around in somebody else's clothes for much longer."

Warren leaned back in his chair. "I'm sure that can be arranged."

"One more thing." Faith had a feeling she was blushing. "My money was in my clothes. I can give somebody a written IOU-"

"That isn't necessary." It was Warren's turn to seem slyly amused.

Faith knew Wolverine was behind her before she heard his voice. "Warren puts the expression 'more money than G-d' to shame."

She forced her eyes to stay on Warren and fixed him with a slightly hard smile.

"The offer is appreciated. All the same, I don't like owing anyone but myself."

Behind her, Wolverine chuckled in his own appreciation of her spunk. Warren -- feeling half-insulted, half-amused -- inclined his head in her direction. "As you wish."

"Thanks." She stood as if expecting something. "Um, car?"

"I've got transportation." Wolverine's chest was almost touching her back.

"Good deal." She caught the credit card that flew at her and looked at the back of it. "I don't think I can pass for Warren Worthington."

"You're lucky he didn't put roman numerals at the end." Bobby smiled at the finger Warren held up in his honor.

"You're taking her into the city?" Warren looked past her to Wolverine.

"Yeah." He looked at Warren like the man had taken stupid pills that morning.

"Good luck on the travel time. Pretty much anywhere on Fifth will recognize my last name, they'll be willing to verify that it she has my permission over a vid-phone."

"Okay." Wolverine turned away and started to walk, leaving Faith to say a hurried "thanks and goodbye" and attempt to catch up with him retaining some dignity.

"The stores will still be there in a few hours."

Wolverine looked over and the girl taking long strides to keep up and slowed down with a laugh. "Sorry. Roman-numeral boy was pissing me off."

Faith was willing to join in his amusement there. "The people on Fifth all know my people..." she mocked. "I assume we're talking about Fifth Avenue? What the fuck am I going to find there?"

Wolverine put a consoling hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry," his voice came out as serious as he could make it considering the circumstances. "We'll figure something out." Both of them snickered in unison.

The reached the garage and Faith followed to a large pick-up truck. Wolverine opened the door for her and she climbed in, looking around wistfully. "These things are cool, I always wanted one as a kid."

"As a kid?" Wolverine got in the driver's seat and started the ignition.

"My day dreams tend to be a little bit more immediate now. Well, for awhile, actually." That is, when they weren't about finding a friend to count on or a home. She wasn't going to mention that. Or how nice the simple act of having a door opened for her was. It was hard to believe there was a time when she would have kicked a guy's ass for even thinking about that. If this was soft then she wasn't sure she was such a fan of hard.

She climbed in and only smiled when Wolverine set the radio dial and gave her a look that said he expected her to challenge his pick. Faith told him she had a policy born of long hours hitchhiking that consisted mostly of not pissing off the driver. Wolverine laid his foot on the gas and got them there near to thirty minutes sooner than any sane person would have managed to arrive. Faith's smile when she hopped down was as near to giddy as she ever reached. They made their way into the first large department store they found, and located a listing of all the areas. Faith stared at it as if searching for something briefly before muttering, "I should have mentioned that the last time I bought clothes was over three years ago...I hit a thrift shop."

"Two years, Salvation Army store. I should've dragged 'Roro along."

"Okay then, all we have to do is ask ourselves: what would Ororo do?"

Wolverine gave her a sidelong glance and moved toward a woman whose outfit screamed store clerk. "'Xcuse me, ma'am, I was wonderin' if you could help?"

The tall, too-perfect blond turned to him, assessed the flannel shirt and boots and said with a slow, superficial politeness, "Of course, what can I do for you?"

Faith watched, silently wishing she still caused mayhem just because she felt like it. Blond-chick would be the first to go. The girl turned to her after Wolverine pointing out that he was not actually the one in need of assistance and Faith smiled more as an excuse to show her teeth than anything else. The girl responded in kind. Faith was not scared.

Regardless of the bad inter-personal relationship with their sales clerk, Wolverine and Faith emerged an hour later with five pairs of pants, seven tops, two pairs of shoes and enough socks, underwear and bras to last her a week at a time. Faith figured that the time spent in the store was worth it just to see the look on the girl's face when Warren confirmed that he had given her permission to use the card. Warren looked past the screen at his teammate and her, and curled his lips up in a sardonic manner that had Faith reassessing the rich boy.

All the same, she was glad to climb back into the safety of the truck and close her eyes at the relative silence of the motor. She first spoke with her eyes still closed. "Thanks for approaching Miss I-am-getting-the-stick-surgically-removed. I'm probably going to have to either become Warren's indentured slave or sell my body on the streets for the next twenty years to pay the bill off, but going naked wasn't really an option."

Wolverine personally thought that it couldn't possibly take more than a few nights selling a body like that to pay off the bill, but decided that wasn't the most flattering thing to tell a girl you had just met. "I know you don't complain about other folks picks, but you like any particular type of music?"

"Uh..." It had been awhile since Faith had put real thought into anything beyond food, shelter and the next job. "I used to like acid rock, but I'm pretty sure I passed my angry adolescent stage awhile back. Some of the girls I was- well, some girls I used to know played around with jazz, that was nice." She had often wondered if she thought this because it was the only thing between silence and cacophony in jail.

Wolverine was surprised by how tempted he was to pry into what she had been about to say. He distracted himself by finding a jazz channel.

*

Scott was by the car upon their return. He managed to get the door open before her hand even reached the latch. He stepped back and looked up at her. "The Professor wants to see you."

The skin around Faith's eyes tightened imperceptibly, but she nodded and told Scott to lead the way. She was glad to feel Wolverine follow at her back. Wolverine could smell her unease. He sympathized, could in fact remember when he had felt the same way each time he was called in for a "conference." They reached the office door and he put a hand on her shoulder. "It'll be fine, Charlie's one of the good guys."

Faith nodded, opened the door and shut it behind her. Wolverine looked up into the closest Scott ever came to have a shocked expression. He put up a warning hand. "Don't ask, haven't figured it out myself yet." He walked away pleased that the look had never left Scott's features.

On her part, Faith moved with pretend-confidence to the desk that separated her and the Professor. The man across from her motioned toward one of the chairs placed on her side: "Sit?"

She did, amazed at how gracefully she could execute such a move at that precise moment. Xavier was tempted to tell her to try and relax, but wasn't sure she would want to know just how strongly she was projecting. Judging her state, he attempted to cut through any dressing he had been planning on adding and got straight to the point. "We managed to find files on you."

Faith understood. "I can be out of here immediately, just give me a chance to settle the clothes bill with Warren and I'm gone."

"Mind giving me a few of those moments you were going to allow Warren?" Faith bit the inside of her lip and motioned with her hand for him to go on. He took the given permission. "For a girl they say did such horrid things, you played it relatively straight from the moment you were booked; only a singular incident on file and, reading between the lines, I would say that it was self-defense. In fact, it even says you turned yourself in." He took a breath a monitored her reactions. She became slightly less uneasy and he began again. "You got time off -- years of it -- for good behavior. Didn't break parole once. Haven't run into a single documented skirmish since. Care to explain how the bad girl went good?"

Faith knew instinctively that she could tell him no, that it was personal, and that he wouldn't get rid of her or try and force the thought out of her. He would say okay and wait until she was ready for her own little show-and-tell. "Long story short, you know all that stuff I told you about the slayer? Well, I'm not the only one; there are two of us. Buffy the Angel and Faith the Devil's Minion -- pretty literally at times. The so-called devil that I kinda moonlighted for gave me a way to spend some time in Buffy's body. I got a taste of what being good...cared for...felt like."

"I suppose you weren't able to go back after that?" Xavier cocked his head and waited.

"For about a week, until I caught up with Buffy's ex. He had a big thing about self-redemption. Straw that broke the camel's back, you could say."

Xavier stayed silent for a moment. When he spoke up again, it was almost as if the previous conversation had never happened. "So, have you made any decisions as to your future?"

Faith understood that the conversation had happened and that it was over and would not be brought up again. Still uneasy with having people see her beyond her sins, she wasn't sure whether to feel relief or frustration. "I was thinking I would stay around for awhile, I heard you guys were planning to try and take down the guy who is running those camps. I'd like to get in on that."

"Maybe."

The physical change in Faith was subtle, but Xavier felt the overwhelming determination she was projecting without even having to concentrate on her. "Not maybe. Those people tried gutting me without even putting me out first. I go in or I leave and find my own way in."

Xavier held in the look that would have told her he knew that last part was pure bluster. "You go in on one condition. You let me and my team work with you, both in the danger room and out of it, on developing the skills you do know about and finding the ones that might be lurking."

Faith stared at him hard. "That's all you want?"

He nodded. She tilted her head slightly. "I can't see myself really losing out, in that case. Okay."

"I'm glad you decided in our favor. Jean and Hank are expecting you to meet them in the danger room in about an hour."

"I've become that predictable?" Faith would never let him know how much that thought scared her.

"Everyone has to stop moving at some point, Faith. Perpetual motion is wearing -- especially when carried out alone."

Not knowing how to respond, Faith rose from her chair and gave the Professor a goodbye nod before exiting the office.

*

Dinner rolled around hours after Faith had finished the conversation with the Professor, but only ten minutes after she had left the training session with Jean and Hank. Telling herself she wasn't hungry, Faith turned the shower on and stepped under water so hot it burned. She hissed, but did nothing to change the temperature. Only when it began to cool enough that she shivered beneath the flow did she step out and wrap a waiting towel around her.

No sooner had she reached the bedroom than she heard a knock on her door. "Who is it?"

A disembodied voice answered. "It's Jean, can I come in?"

Faith glared at the door. "I'm in a towel."

"In that case, it really isn't anything I haven't seen before."

Faith had to smile at that. It wasn't like modesty had ever been something she fixated on. "Yeah, okay."

Jean opened and slid through a crack in the door to save Faith from giving anyone walking by a show. Faith smelled the food before she even noticed the other woman was carrying plates. She was near to falling over from hunger, but an excuse wasn't any good unless you followed through. "I'm not really hungry."

"Uh huh. Your body is still recuperating from having come near to being sliced open, you spent hours with snobs in the city, dealt with the Professor's scrutiny and then were sent in to be lambasted with your first training session. Either you're anorexic or lying."

"Look, I'm sorry about how things ended with the training session. I still have issues with controlling my frustration." Faith herself had been surprised -- and embarrassed -- by the extremity of her outburst against the two teammates. She hadn't railed at anyone like that in years. It only made it worse that they hadn't yelled back, just sat there looking understanding. "You've got every reason to be furious, and I figured you might want some time to think about if I was worth the trouble."

"If we had any doubts, the fact that you lasted two hours before breaking would've ended them. Do you really think I would've brought you dinner if we were planning on throwing you out? Scott wanted you invited down, he says it is bad for team morale if we let you sulk first night out. I didn't think you were sulking, just spending some time alone, the first day is overwhelming for a lot of the people that are kind of caught up in life and end up here like you did."

"Do you always win arguments with Scott?"

"Only when I am right."

"Is Hank mad?"

"It takes a crime of biblical proportions to get Hank upset with you."

"Can you turn around?" Faith waited to see that Jean did so and dropped the towel. She pulled on newly-purchased jeans and one of the shirts. "It's safe to look."

"Do you emit radioactive light beams, that it wasn't before?" Jean smiled. "I take it you're coming back with me. Good." She picked up the plates and led the way downstairs.

The ease with which everyone accepted Faith's reappearance at the dinner table, mirrored the way things were to go in the following weeks. She spent most of her time between training, eating and sleeping. When she did get time off, there was always someone around. Hank had managed to peak her interest in the library. She hadn't found a favorite section yet, but to her immense surprise, she was enjoying searching. She had thought of herself as stupid for so long, it almost came as a shock to her when she rediscovered her ability to read anything longer than a road sign.

At her request, in a manner that was timid for her, Rogue had taken her on a flying tour of Westchester. Gambit helped her to learn more about and begin to truly appreciate jazz, at least in the New Orleans sense. Warren had started an argument with the Cajun and stolen her away to teach her about "true jazz," originating in the Kansas City/St. Louis area. Scott had taken her aside to play atonal jazz. Bobby cajoled her into helping with some of his more complicated pranks. Jean attempted to teach her how to cook. She succeeded with sugar cookies, but failed dismally with practically everything else. Kurt taught her words, sometimes appropriate, sometimes not, in German. Ororo played pool with her.

She found herself enjoying the time spent around all of them. She had known early on, however, that her favorite times were spent with Wolverine. They argued about ice hockey, went for motorcycle rides, played poker, made each other do laundry and challenged each other to off-time training.

Supposedly, Tuesdays every other week was laundry day. Both of them had managed to last until Thursday evening in the case of this particular week. Wolverine was emptying his laundry bag into the washer clothed in only sweatpants. Faith sat with legs hanging over the dryer, watching in old pajamas she had begged off of Jean. Realizing he could probably smell the arousal that peaked in her every time his torso moved from the bag to the washer, Faith turned to stare intensely at the wall. Knowing he was there, the tactic only worked marginally well.

"Faith?"

The woman being talked to nearly fell off the dryer at the interruption of the silence. "Yeah?"

"I found a jazz club in the city. It's small and in the Village." Even mutants rarely encountered trouble in that section of town. "I've heard good things, and since hell is scheduled to break loose pretty soon..."

Congressman Covel had been on a rampage in the weeks following the mass escape from the camp. Of course, nothing had been said in public. After all, it would make the army look fairly idiotic if people were made aware that close to sixty mutants had escaped with the cover of darkness and little else. The x-men had managed to put almost all of those escaped mutants in safe places, only loosing three to recapture. Information gathered from those willing to talk had pieced together a scenario in which the camp, supposedly a mutant detention center, was actually grounds for mass mutant experimentation and test-tube breeding projects. To what end, none of the prisoners seemed to know. Whatever the case, a vote for whether more money should be diverted to the MRM was coming up next week and people wanted to see proof that their tax dollars was going somewhere. The more pressure put on the congressman, the more the X-men felt sure something was going to happen.

"Sounds great."

Wolverine threw in the last of his clothes and peered up at her. "Tomorrow night good?"

Faith fidgeted for a moment before exploding. "Fuck it, I have to know something. You have to be smelling my attraction from a mile off, and, unless this pseudo-empathic gift of mine you guys seem to have uncovered," the gift really had more to do with an acute ability to read all kinds of physical signals, but that was hard to put into a few words, "is totally wrong, you could definitely jump me given the word go. So what the hell are you doing asking me out on dates and climbing the twenty million steps to a healthy romance?"

He stood up all the way so that their eyes were level. "You ever been something more'n a roll in the hay to someone?"

Faith felt her stomach turn over but wouldn't allow herself to flinch. "No, sometimes less, though."

"Yeah, well, you deserve better." With one step he closed the distance between them and put his hands on her hips. Pulling her up gently, he kissed her on the lips. It was deep and possessive and arousing and he stopped after several seconds. She sat there, still slightly elevated by his hands, mouth still hanging open in anticipation. He set her back down and walked to the door of the utility room. "You taste good, darlin', but you've got better qualities. It'd be a shame to only notice one aspect of you."

*

Faith was still there when he returned an hour later to change the clothes from washer to dryer. She was sitting in the same position, almost as if she hadn't moved since the moment he had left. "What if you're wrong? What if I don't deserve better?"

The questions were asked so softly that Wolverine had to stop what he was doing, so that the rustle of clothing wouldn't interfere with his hearing them. "Trust me, no matter how sordid your past is, it couldn't possibly beat some of the other X-men. Charlie has pretty much cornered the market on redeeming people."

"Yeah, him and Angel would be a fearsome combo." The words came out absentmindedly, as if she were talking to herself.

"Warren?"

Faith put her hands behind her and leaned back. "No, different Angel. Someone I tried to kill -- a few times."

Wolverine was pretty sure there was more to the story, but he was willing to wait for a more in-depth explanation. "Back to where we started, I think you deserve to be treated...like a lady."

"I can't do this."

"You don't strike me as the type that fails at much."

"Yeah, well, everyone has their weak spots. Look, you don't make it to twenty-three never having had more than a quick fuck for nothing. I'm just not the type of gal you take home."

"I've already taken you home. Dad approves, so do all the siblings; hard part's over."

"You're being a stubborn bastard."

"I guess that's one of those things you'll have to learn to put up with from me."

Faith nearly growled in aggravation. Her fury was mostly directed inwards. If she didn't want it so badly, she would have told him no before any of these things were said. She was losing her edge. "One date, we'll see how it goes."

Wolverine shoveled the last of the load into the dryer, shut the door and pushed the start button. "That's all I was looking for."

Faith nodded, hopped down and left the room with a full laundry basket.

Wolverine leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. For having just broken one of his biggest self-preservation rules: do not jump headfirst into the unknown, he felt the best he had felt in years. He allowed himself a grim smile.

*

Faith deposited the laundry basket in her room and left. She made her way to Jean's room and pressed the chime on the door. Scott answered with a puzzled look at finding her on the other side of the door. "Everything okay?"

"Five by five," Faith muttered the expression hastily. "Is Jean in?"

"Yeah, I'll grab her." Scott disappeared and Jean replaced him in a matter of moments.

"Scott said you asked for me?"

Now that the woman was standing in front of her, the questions she had come to ask seemed to stick in her throat. "Um, I was wondering...Wolverine asked me to go to a jazz club with him."

Jean's face was a mixture of amusement and compassion. "That wasn't a question. You want to come in and sit?"

"I was-" Faith stopped and when she started again it was with precision. "I came to borrow an outfit."

Jean gave her a confused look so she tried to explain a little bit more.

"Whatever you have, he wants, I thought if I started with the style-"

"Logan is far too intelligent to insert one woman for another. He didn't ask me on the date, he asked you. Go as yourself."

Faith attempted to start speaking several times before she actually did. "I'm good in a strategics session, and I'm girl-fucking-wonder in a training session. You may have noticed though, you stick me in a social situation, and it takes a while for me to find myself. I let everyone else talk at dinner because for the most part I don't know what I have to say that could possibly be of any interest. The fact that I actually liked jazz, that it wasn't just something I had latched onto in prison, came as a complete shock. It still surprises me that time can pass so quickly when Hank and I hide out in the library or when the Professor takes to talking with me about the stuff that goes on outside the school. I've spent so long only allowing myself to be one thing, the woman who would spend her life hunting redemption, that's the only person I know as Faith anymore. And believe me, she doesn't date. Truth be told, though, I was kind of hoping to find a dress and some makeup. It's been a long time since I've felt like I had a gender at all...if the feeling's only gonna last for a little while, it'd be nice to take advantage of it."

Jean reached down to grab Faith's hand. She held tight when the newest team member tried to pull away. "C'mon, I think Rogue might have just what we are looking for."

Rogue's closet was a revelation to Faith. Outfits positively poured out of it. There was everything from strictly casual to black-tie formal, biker chick to preppie, flashy to neutral, sexy to nun-like. She laughed when Faith's eyes widened, "It's the Southern belle in me. 'Sides, I could hardly catch Remy wearin' the same thing all the time."

After near to two hours of searching, calling in Ororo and Remy for a third opinion and a guy's perspective, a decision was reached. Faith took the dress to her room along with some cosmetics that Storm had bought but hadn't opened yet.

Reaching her room, she didn't even bother to undress before crawling under the covers and letting her eyelashes meet.

*

Friday was long. Not that it was boring or that anything devastating happened. Faith just couldn't concentrate. She came near to crying with relief when she reached the end of her last session in the danger room. She jogged to her room and threw off her clothes on the way to a highly satisfying shower. An hour later she emerged downstairs.

Bobby whistled, which caused Warren to smack the backside of his head and look at him reprovingly. Beast smiled at her like a proud, and nervous, older brother. Remy raked his eyes up and down her body. "Remy 'tink we made 'de right decision, chere."

At his side, Rogue gave her an appreciative wink. "Nice hair, sugah."

Faith figured she was blushing, because someone probably would have mentioned if she had suddenly caught on fire. Her hair was pulled back into a French twist, which was about the only thing she knew how to do beyond braiding it or sticking it in a pile that was supposed to resemble a bun. The dress was a deep burgundy-near purple velvet that hung to her knees. The front was a straight A-line that was held up by spaghetti straps and swooped low enough for there to be the illusion of cleavage, but not real presentation. The back swooped near to where her elbows lay when her arms were left to dangle. A thin velvet ribbon criss-crossed the length of her back. Around her neck was the singular piece of jewelry she had on, a single diamond drop, on loan from Jean. The shoes had taken a while to find. The pair that had finally turned up as both matching and being able to fit had been simple black patent high-heeled pumps. Her makeup was a simple application of toner, blush and lip-liner with a touch of gloss. The appreciative looks she was receiving in every direction made her want to run back to her room and hide. Instead she winked back at Rogue. "Like the dress? It seemed like something you'd approve of."

"If she doesn't I do." The voice came from behind Faith and she spun around only to suck in her last breath of the following moments. Wolverine had cleaned up. His hair, both facial and head, still had that rough, rolled-out-of-bed-looking-like-this appearance. The rest of him did not. He wore a starched white shirt with the top two buttons undone, which only managed to enhance the sense of strength that Faith always felt when she was around him. His legs were encased in jeans so tight she was amazed at his ability to breath, let alone walk. You could actually see the muscles ripple through the denim when he moved. All in all, Faith figured she was watching the culmination of nights of erotic dreams walk toward her.

She found her breath. "You look nice." She said it like she wasn't aware he was probably smelling fuck-me vibes from across the room.

"You outdid me."

"I think I heard once that was the girl's responsibility."

"Oh. Well, in that case," he offered his arm, "let's get outta here."

"Put so nicely." She took his arm. "How could a girl possibly refuse?" As she was walking out the door, Jean's voice softly invaded her head. *He didn't even glance my way once when he came downstairs. Be patient, you can't expect to find yourself on the first date, and he won't ask that of you. But he is asking you to put your best efforts to the search.*

Before Faith accepted Wolverine's help getting in the truck, she sent a thought back. *I'll give it everything I have. Promise.* She seated herself and Wolverine got in on the other side. He glanced over at her. "Tempting as it is, I have a policy of not biting on the first date."

"Pure gentleman y'are."

He smiled; she let her muscles unclench. The conversation on the way to the club was surprisingly easy. The food at the place was good and the music was fantastic. Nervous as a freshman asking a senior out on a date but determined to look cool, Wolverine stood and offered his hand to Faith. "Dance?"

"I-" She had that look of someone about to think up an elaborate excuse.

He took her hand and pulled her up. "I see you took that as an offer."

She fell against him as he maneuvered their arms into a dancing position. When they had found a rhythm and were swaying together with relative ease, she spoke. "The last time I can remember dancing was five, maybe six years ago. It was to club music, not like this. You just have to move something for everyone to define what you're doing as dancing. I, uh, I don't think I've ever done this before."

Wolverine frowned down at her. "Not even in high school, before the powers manifested themselves?"

She gave a small smile and a shake of her head. "Slayer powers don't exactly wait till puberty, that's just where they gain momentum. It wasn't really about that. I mean, the powers aren't superficially evident."

He twirled her around and held back a smirk of satisfaction at the silly look in her eyes. "Then what?"

"You know how some people say 'long story' to get out of explaining? Well, it's kind of novelish in length."

"There any way to shorten it?"

The song ended and the beat got faster. Faith unraveled herself from the dancing embrace. "Take me out for coffee?"

"Stories are always better with caffeine." He recaptured her arm and led her to the door.

*

They found a coffee shop within walking distance. It was Friday night and the place was busy, but it was a thirty-something crowd, so the noise level stayed at a buzz rather than the roar of student-infested hang-outs. They both ordered a cup of the Ethiopian blend of the day. Faith dumped a nutra-sweet in hers; Wolverine kept his black. He allowed her to sit with the cup pressed up to her lips, inhaling the scent for a moment -- watched, mesmerized as she took a first sip and swallowed. Shaking himself out of it, he spoke to her: "So, darlin'?"

She took another sip, deliberately keeping her mouth occupied. "There is only supposed to be one Slayer. Each one is called in her own time -- the time of the previous one's death, and each one is given a Watcher. The Watcher trains, observes and often times cares for the Slayer. Buffy, the Slayer who I guess you could say came first of all of us, died for a moment, a vampire drowned her and her friends brought her back to life with some well-earned CPR certification. In that moment of death, though, a new Slayer was called. Her name was Kendra. Kendra was killed a little while later by a vampire. In case you hadn't caught on, a Slayer's whole purpose is to do 'way with nasty vamps."

The look on Wolverine's face was a studied blank. "Look, I don't care if you believe in them or not, just go along with it for the sake of my story. Anyway, when Kendra died, I was the next one in line. I was sixteen at the time and the Watcher they sent me was pretty much the only person who had ever given me more than two seconds of his time. My parents were both doctors, always on call. I could've jumped off a bridge and they probably wouldn't've been able to I.D. me."

Wolverine blinked. "I believe you. I've run into a vampire or two in my time."

Faith was a little thrown by the admission, but she gave him a look of gratitude and continued. "This gang of vamps killed my Watcher. I got there as they were finishing, and let me tell you, they had taken their sweet fuckin' time. I lost it. I mean, it wasn't one of those things were I huddled in a ball on the floor for three years, I just...someone ate a couple of shrimps on my seafood platter and I was left with the remainder." She took three gulps of coffee and managed to swallow in record time. "I ran. Sometimes, when I have nightmares about that I could swear I ran all the way to Sunnydale."

She wasn't surprised at his look of confusion. "Buffy...and the hellmouth were in Sunnydale. The hellmouth is pretty much what it sounds like, an area that attracts loads of evil crap. It was that I was drawn to, not B. She just ended up being there."

She signaled to a waiter and asked for a refill. "Jean reminds me of B in the way that she's just...the ideal, I suppose -- the woman that every other woman wants to be, and the woman that every man wants to be with. Clich1s and all, B had this group, we called them the Scooby Gang. They were her back up, which was unheard of for a Slayer. It's a one-gal occupation, according to all the sources. Not that there are a lot."

The refill came and Faith stopped long enough to burn her tongue trying to gulp it as well. "The Gang never liked me. Not that I made it real easy. Thing was, B always tried to see the good in me, even after I betrayed them for this demon that was planning on causing a massacre of the students on their graduation day. I think she even thought there was hope for me after I killed this guy -- my first human. It wasn't really on purpose, but I just acted like it didn't matter, because, if I let myself in on the reality that it did-"

"You would have had to face yourself in the mirror and see that reality every morning." Wolverine placed his hand on her knee underneath the table and was pleased when she didn't move it.

"Things culminated in this fight led by B against the mayor -- the demon was the town's mayor -- but she had already put me in a coma, slightly beforehand. I was like that Shakespeare guy at this point; the one who has done so much shit that he feels he can't stop. I woke up eight months later and the first thing that came into my mind was payback for this supposed betrayal of B's. The mayor had left a type of insurance policy for me. With it, I managed to switch bodies with B...it was only a couple of days before she managed to get her own body back, but in that time everyone treated me like her. It was the weirdest thing, I couldn't remember being liked or respected or treated like I mattered, except maybe by the mayor, who was psychotic. Even my Watcher was a lot more distant and compassionate from afar than all the people in B's world. I wanted that so bad." The last sentence came out a fierce whisper.

Wolverine's hand squeezed, but he stayed silent.

"I ended up in L.A., where I got offered the job of taking out Angel, B's ex and the singular vamp with a soul in existence. I lost the fight...I wanted to lose. He took me back to his place and got me started down this road of thinking that maybe admitting to myself that I had done all these things and needed to-" she twisted her mouth in private amusement at the voice of Angel intruding upon her thoughts, "redeem myself. Before we could get real far, though, the shit hit the fan and I ended up giving myself up to the cops. I felt like that was the easiest and fastest way for me to take my medicine."

She was about to signal for a third refill when Wolverine pushed the carafe of water in front of her. She downed a third of it. "At first, while I was in there, I wouldn't...couldn't hurt anybody. Not even in self-defense. My own violence made me more ill, caused more self-loathing, than the constant rape and abuse. I let it go on for almost a year before this new girl got thrown on the block. She was nineteen years old and in for possession and selling, but we all knew she had just picked the wrong asshole to date. She was the daughter of this big technology tycoon who had disowned her publicly when charges were brought against her. Just looking at her you could tell that all her pusher boyfriend had had to do was tell her he loved her and she was his to play G-d with. I have to go to the bathroom."

She was up and gone and back in two minutes. Her hands were still wet when she placed one over both of his, lying on the table. "It became evident that if I didn't give a shit what happened to me, I cared what happened to someone who didn't stand a chance of defending herself. I took so many of the other women out in her defense, they stuck me in solitary for two weeks. When I came back up, I had been added to the list of people to steer clear of, and so had Merianne, the girl. She was scared mindless of what I was going to do to her, having fought so hard to get her. It took me a month to convince her she was safe with me. Thing is, on the day she finally came around to believing me, she had this look on her face that Will, B's best friend, used to give B. It was just totally confident that I would protect her."

Faith moved one finger up and down the back of Wolverine's left hand. "After that, my fights for new and smaller girls were fought on more private turf, almost all of us were aiming for good behavior time, and I had plans for life beyond my cell, so that definitely included me. When I got out, I basically continued being the uncaped crusader for justice. I got back into the whole Slaying thing about a year out, when I could deal with killing again. I was sick for three days after my first vamp. It's gotten better, but I still prefer my stun setting to anything lethal."

Both of them were silent for a bit as Wolverine watched her swallow the last of the water. "I guess I can see why you don't have much experience dancing."

Faith laughed, nearly spitting out her last sip of water. "That was way more than you wanted to know."

"Actually, at some point, there's a whole world of details that I'd like to know. Right now, though, I want to buy you a few shots at the bar down the street then take you home and...do a different kind of dance."

She was silent at this proclamation and he swore inwardly. "Unless you don't want to. We can wait. I won't give up, but we can wait."

"It was you who said you wanted to wait."

Touché. "I said that because I wanted to show you I respected you; and while I respect you more now than I did a little over a day ago, I also think that you might need something more than just my respect."

Faith gave him a wary look. "I only need it if it includes you still being there in the morning and remembering more than just the last part of tonight."

"If I wasn't planning on all of that, I wouldn't have offered."

"In that case, I'm good for rum, tequila, brandy and whiskey, but if I get my choice, it's vodka every time."

They went down the street but didn't stay at the bar long enough for either of them to get woozy. Faith wanted her edge; sex was a bad situation to go into without some hope of being on the defensive. Wolverine just wanted to make sure he could drive home without killing her. A live partner was always a good first step to a healthy relationship.

By the time they made it back to the mansion, if anyone was awake, they were safely tucked away in their rooms, enjoying the peace of a so-far uninterrupted late night. Faith whispered casually upon seeing the hall that lead to the team's rooms, "Your place or mine?"

"Yours is probably cleaner."

"You'd be amazed how jail can turn you into an obsessive-compulsive neat freak."

"It was more of a comment on my own living habits, but okay, your place it is."

They reached the door and Faith put her palm to the identification pad.

Entering behind her, Wolverine flipped the light switch before grabbing her shoulders and lightly pulling her back against him. "You sure y'wanna do this? We can wait, I could stay with you tonight just to stay, or leave and see you at breakfast tomorrow. Either way, it's up to you."

Faith was pretty sure it was his offer to stay without touching her that made her bite back the most foolish smile that had ever come to her face. "If I wasn't sure before, I'm good now."

Wolverine excused himself for a second and went to the bathroom, where it was common policy in the house for everyone to keep a first aid kit. The kits had some unusual things in them, among them, a constantly updated supply of condoms and lubrication, just in case. Wolverine grabbed a few and came back out to the room, dropping them on the bed when he got there.

With that, Wolverine returned to the exact position they had been in before and dipped his head to the back of her neck, nipping at the skin stretching over a particularly pronounced vertebrate. He let go of the skin and licked it softly before placing a kiss in the same spot. Large hands came up to massage and warm her neck, at the same time unclasping her necklace and setting it to the side. Faith felt her hair fall down onto the skin of her shoulders and heard the man behind her inhale softly. His hands moved down her arms, slowly rubbing in circles and grooves until her muscles melted underneath the skin. Moving on, he untied the ribbon laced to her lower back and ever so carefully loosened the strings, pulling the dress over her head only when he was sure it would go easily. Kneeling, he rolled down her nylons and reverently removed the high heels, cracking a smile when she let a moan of relief out at the foot massage he instigated.

Reaching up to grab her hands, he pulled her down to the floor so that she slid there, rather than fell. Without letting go of her hands, he led them to the buttons on his shirt and allowed her to set the pace for his undressing. He allowed her to touch and taste and tickle as if he were one of Beast's test subjects. In the end, they both sat on the floor, him in his boxers, her in her underwear. He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed the inside of her palm, dragging his tongue along the surface of her skin until he had reached and engulfed the thumb with his mouth. In one second, the smell in the room went from controlled-desire and hard-won calm to violent arousal. Wolverine kept his mouth on her hands for a long time.

When she began to whimper, he stood and carried her to the bed. She looked surprised that he had bothered. He slid the boxers off and threw them aside before leaning over her to draw off the underwear. Though he had seen her naked before, this was the first time he had truly noticed it. The scars that graced her body from anklebone to shoulder bone would not have been unfamiliar if his body scarred. Even having been fed regularly for several weeks now, her physique still shouted of long-time deprivation. The muscles that were subtly everywhere served as a reminder of the latent strength hidden beneath all the vulnerability. Flaws and all, she was a beautiful woman. Long legs stretched out past where he rested on his knees, full breasts rose from a chest that heaved up and down a little too deeply, a bone structure that made any Parisian model look gawky sprawled out against the navy blue sheets.

"The scars are beauts, aren't they?" Faith asked the question with just enough bitterness to make Wolverine notice the smell of intense nervousness that had crept up around her.

"The only reason I'm not covered in 'em is the healing factor. Scars and all, ye're magnificent, darlin'." He didn't allow her to argue, catching her mouth up in a quick kiss before moving down her body. He paused a long while at the hollow of her neck, her breasts, her belly and the backs of her knees and ankles.

Faith wished she was beyond thinking. She had only felt even close to this good once before. With Riley it had been somewhat ruined by the fact that he hadn't been having sex with her, at least not mentally. There had been more love then, but not as much caution. The familiarity that Riley had kept showing had been unbearable, she had cried when he had worked on her shoulder blades, making comments which made it clear that was a particular turn on to Buffy. She had always wondered what it was like to have someone care enough to find those things out about you. Things she herself barely knew.

Wolverine looked into her eyes as he spread her legs, making sure the tinge of fear he smelt did not become overwhelming. Nipping, biting, licking and kissing, he made his way up her inner thigh to work his tongue gently inside her vagina. Faith gave a small moan at the heat emanating from his mouth. She was glad he was hard to injure a moment later when his tongue flicked against her clitoris and caused her to jolt hard in his direction. His hands reached up to rub in soothing motions against her stomach before starting again, more successfully the second time.

When her breathing sounded more like a train coming into the station, Wolverine pulled himself up and found a condom. He quickly pulled it on and applied a liberal amount lube before returning one hand to her clit for a few more strokes of preparation. Looking into hazy eyes, Wolverine smiled without menace and placed himself at the opening of her vagina. He grimaced as his entrance caused some of the haze to disappear.

"Sorry," she brought up a hand to shakily wipe her forehead, "it's been awhile."

"We'll go slow. Tell me if it hurts." He lowered himself enough so that he could kiss her forehead and lips. As good as his word, he moved slowly, pulling back when the scent of pain sharpened and going forward when her muscles relaxed against the bed. He waited for a few moments upon reaching full penetration and when he moved again, his hand moved with the rhythm of his stokes against her clitoris. At that point, she probably wouldn't have noticed someone sawing off a limb.

She climaxed slightly after him and collapsed in a sweaty, satiated heap against her sheets and pillows. Wolverine regained control of his nervous system and pulled out. He disposed of the condom, wiped them both down with washcloths, found clean linens and moved Faith to a chair while he changed them, moved her back to the bed and climbed in next to her. He pulled her against his chest and murmured to the top of her head. "Okay if I stay for the night?"

"If I can expect a repeat performance tomorrow night," came the slightly giddy reply, muffled against his chest.

"If that's all you have your expectations set for, sleepyhead, I'm on easy street."

Faith was too tired to figure out exactly what he meant by that, but it sounded good, and being held by someone was a comfort she had never experienced as herself, so instead of worrying, she smiled and drifted off to sleep.

She woke up to a shrill buzz and her amazement at still being wrapped in someone's arms. It was only when she twisted away to turn the machine off that he opened his eyes. She settled back down in the embrace and yawned. "Thanks for staying."

"You've to be somewhere?"

"Training session with the Professor, I really don't want to piss the boss man off."

"As long as you don't have that attitude with Cyke, we'll be okay."

She pushed herself away from him in answer and headed to the bathroom for a shower. After a moment's consideration, she looked back over her shoulder.

"Wanna join?"

"You're just trying to get me out of bed."

"Your loss." She took the final steps into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. A minute later, Wolverine decided she was right.

She was late for the session.

*

The Professor looked up at her in that way that made the person being looked at feel as if they were on level with the man. "I take it the date went well then?"

She didn't answer. Half of her was comforted by the fact that he cared enough to ask. Half of her resented and was scared by the intrusion.

"I don't want details Faith, a simple yes or no would be quite enough."

The comment was so astute that she momentarily suspected him of stealing into her mind. She forced the cynicism down and answered. "It was...I can't remember the last time I had a night like that." She bit the inside of her lip. "There may not've been one."

"Good." He looked genuinely glad. She wondered if this was what a father acted like after his daughter went out on a date. Not that she had delusions of grandeur. If anybody, Jean was his daughter figure. Still, it didn't hurt to wonder.

"So, what am I here for today?" Faith figured she would get things back to where she was comfortable, in a student-teacher relationship. Xavier smiled as if he understood exactly what she was after, but started talking to her about mind control and empathy. He was unsure of how she would react if told her he had asked for this session only to see how she was faring the morning after. The lesson lasted almost two hours, after which the Professor commented on how much control she had gained. He doubted she even realized the extent to which settling in and relaxing had helped her with the weakest of her abilities.

"Faith, have you ever had incidents of telekinesis?"

"Like what Jean does?"

"Well, perhaps not that strong, but yes."

"If I have it was in the middle of a fight and I was too busy to notice." It had come out over the past month that she had used many of her lesser-known talents before without realizing it.

"We will have to look into it. Go get some lunch."

She saluted. "Yessir." Exiting the room, she made her way to the main dining room.

Bobby and Hank were already there. Bobby broke into a full out grin upon her arrival. "So?"

She gave him the blankest stare she could muster. "So what, popsicle boy?"

She had the feeling that Hank was blushing beneath all the fur. "Robert, what Logan and Faith-"

"That blue with that shade of red makes a really pretty purple, Hank." Bobby graced his friend with a complete shit-eating grin and Faith felt compelled to rescue the larger mutant.

"First thing we did was went out and got so drunk that I couldn't remember my own name and Wolverine couldn't figure out what color shirt he was wearing while looking at it. Then after I did some naked dancing on top of the bar we decided to get really kinky and have sex in a cab. We figured that was enough for one night, not to mention our first date, so we came home and passed out. That's pretty much all there is to tell; not too exciting, really." Faith pivoted on her right foot and headed into the kitchen without a moments hesitation upon finishing. A moment later she heard Bobby's raucous laughter and Hank's more refined chuckle follow her into the kitchen. She was so busy listening she nearly ran into Gambit.

"Nice story, chere. You handle 'de chil' just fine."

Faith threw him a smile of appreciation and walked to the fridge. She wasn't surprised to find that the person on the other side of the open door was Rogue. "Ah nights with the Canuck really that wild? If so, yah might have yahself some competition, gal."

Faith rolled her eyes. "Stick with the Cajun, you'd be disappointed."

Rogue snorted, grabbed a container of watermelon and got out of the way. Faith was busy cataloguing the items in the fridge when she heard Wolverine from behind her. "Givin' away all my secrets?"

She turned around and shook her head in mock displeasure. "Bobby ratted me out."

"Actually, it was Hank. In a very low-key, academically curious manner."

At the table, Rogue choked on a piece watermelon. Gambit chose the relative subtlety of burying his face in his hands. It might have worked if his whole body hadn't been heaving with sobs of laughter.

"The good doctor surprises me once again." Faith smiled coyly at Wolverine. "Are you upset with me? I can always do the don't-speak-unless-spoken-to thing."

"I would take you up on it, but your lips look so good when they're moving-" He cut himself off by pulling her in and firmly kissing her. When he finally pulled away the expression on his face was pure cockiness. "Sorry, had to prove my point."

Rogue had given up any attempts to try and eat while the two were in the room. "Whaddya think, LeBeau?"

"Nine for executio', but only five for style."

"I dunno, from the look on her face, Ah'd have t'go with at least an eight for style."

Faith winked at her and gave Remy a look. "It's a woman thing."

"'Den leave moi out of it."

Wolverine snatched Faith's hand and headed toward the door. "Gladly."

They had barely made it out of the kitchen when they collided with Ororo and Kurt, who was so surprised he teleported back a few feet. Ororo kept her face blank. "Going somewhere?"

Faith had noticed that while Wolverine may have been hung up on Jean for as long as he had been with the team, Ororo was definitely the member he would have called friend first, perhaps even before the Professor. He gave an amused look in response to her quarry. "Away from the kitchen."

Kurt had moved back up to where the rest of them stood. "Well then, by all means..." he gestured a way in between Ororo and him.

"You're my hero, Kurt." Faith tried to ignore the feel of Ororo's considering look as they moved away. From there it only took three minutes and a run in with Warren to make it to the relative safety of Wolverine's quarters.

Faith collapsed at the knees onto his bed and sighed in relief. "The worst part about all this is, I'm really hungry." Noticing that Wolverine was pointing, Faith visually followed his finger to where a portable table stood with two equally portable chairs, paper plates, plasticware and Chinese take out.

"That was what I came down to tell you about, just never made it that far."

"You're a prince." Faith moved to the table and he followed, sitting down across from her.

"Among mutants." His hand went to the same container as hers, causing them both to look slightly abashed. He took his hand away. "Ladies first."

"You seem to have built up this bizarre perception in your mind of the kind of woman I am."

"Your perceptions have been warped by everyone else's, mine are...virginal." He gave her a less-than-innocent grin.

She answered with one of her own and started eating.

They had just finished when the Professor's voice cut into both their minds. *Please report to the strategy room.*

Wolverine muttered something about bad timing under his breath, but stood to go. Faith stood as well and followed him out. They were among the first to reach the strategy room, having been closer than most of the team. Jean and Scott made it last, looking slightly flushed. Wolverine sniffed just audibly, but didn't say a word. Scott glared without heat and Jean hid a smile.

The Professor waited until everyone was settled both mentally and physically to begin. "In the time since our evacuation of the camp in which we found Faith, and the subsequent discovery of two others like it, I have had Gambit and Nightcrawler perform some intelligence operations regarding Congressman Covel's intentions towards the mutants in those camps -- those that are not spouted in his well heard rhetoric." He gave a slight nod in the direction of the two spies.

Gambit took a breath and began to fill the team in. "'De man has seen too many bad sci-fi movies. Bas'c'ly, he wan' t' biul' himsel' an army. 'De catch is 'dat he creatin' 'dis army outta mutants."

Nightcrawler laid a hand on Gambit's forearm before cutting in. "The tests that were being performed on Faith at the time we found her are normal procedure in the camps. They are to help increase mutant power and productivity. We are suspicious that they could also eventually be meant as a prelude to a breeding program."

Faith was beginning to agree with Remy's observation on Covel's movie-watching habits.

"I will now play my roll as the dumbass and admit to confusion. Why is Covel parading as a mutant hater while building an army with them? What makes him think that the mutants are going to fight for him? For that matter, what the hell is he using them to fight for?"

More than one person in the room looked faintly relieved that Bobby had asked.

Scott spoke up in response. "We're fairly positive that the anti-mutant stance was just the easiest front for Covel to take in order to forcibly gather as many mutants as possible into his control. It's also somewhat certain that the drugs that Faith described being given to her before the surgery are low-level mind control drugs. They only work with the outside stimulation of propaganda-like brainwashing and have to be taken on a regular basis - it is possible that the mutants in the camps ingest them in the food."

"Nobody really fought us when we came to take them out." Warren pointed this fact out somewhat uneasily.

"From Covel's fit when Nightcrawler an' I firs' started eavesdroppin', 'dat was a pretty new camp. 'Dey hadn't gotten to 'de brainwashin' part o' 'de plan."

"Lucky us." Ororo looked as if luck were the last thing she believed in at the moment.

Jean filled in where Scott had left off. "To answer your last question Bobby, we don't know. Kurt and Remy think that he might be planning your run-of-the-mill take over the country and implant a dictatorship in his name," Jean's mouth didn't even curl, "but those plans seem to be the one thing he can keep his mouth shut about."

"Well, I mean, you didn't expect it to be easy, did you?" Bobby quipped.

Faith waited while a full half the team turned doleful eyes at him. "I don't suppose that anyone has a way to stop what he is doing?"

Everyone's eyes were on her in an instant. It was the first time she had ever said something beyond answering someone in the affirmative or negative at a team meeting. Without realizing it she dug her fingernails into the skin of Logan's arm, which was resting conveniently beside her. "I mean, we can't just keep going and dragging people out of camps, they're gonna catch onto that one after awhile; not to mention the fact that those camps are still functional when we leave, so it's really not doing much good. I don't think publicly denouncing him would really do much good either, though, seeing as how we're all mutants. Fucks with our credibility some."

"The new kid's got a point, y'all." Rogue leaned back in her chair and propped one foot on the console of the main computer.

"It boils down to us needing one of two things: solid evidence that isn't based on mutant testimony or dirt on Covel pertaining to something else that eliminates his political credibility." Warren cocked his head. "Considering some of the stuff that the American people will put up with from politicians these days, though, I'm going to suggest we go with the former."

Scott almost smiled. "And how do you propose to find that? Most of the worker's in the camps were mutants, let alone the prisoners. I hate admitting when an asshole has covered his tracks well, but-"

"Regardless of what the American population will or will not accept in regard to their leaders' conduct, scandal is hardly something that any politician invites." Beast spoke up as though he hadn't heard a word since Warren's original comments.

Jean narrowed her eyes in a focusing fashion. "What are you getting at?"

"While this may not be the most...ethical of proposals, kept knowledge can be a significantly greater tool than revealed knowledge." The blue mutant looked sad at what he was saying.

"Blackmail, huh, Hank?" Logan spoke the words suddenly, causing Faith to nearly jump away from him.

Every pair of eyes in the room turned toward the Professor. He let the silence sink in before speaking. "I doubt reminding you that two wrongs do not make a right would be of much help right now." The Professor surveyed the team he had put and held together, adding and subtracting along the way. "Having said that, I suppose there are times when the only way to stop a crime is to combat it with a bit of the same medicine, if flavored slightly differently."

Slowly, each of the team members made clear their understanding and agreement with the plan. The Professor nodded slightly. "Nightcrawler, Gambit, I want you both to continue where you were, see what you can uncover. Scott, Rogue, you handle things from an investigative stance. The rest of you stay ready in case slightly less covert action is called for."

With that, the meeting was over. Team members filed out, speaking softly to each other until the only three left were Faith, Logan and 'Roro. Glancing momentarily at the white-haired woman, Logan pulled Faith towards him, nipped once at her ear before whispering, "Can we have a few minutes?"

Faith leaned into the whisper but kept her eyes open. She looked over to find 'Roro smiling at her. She wasn't all that reassured. "No prob." She disentangled herself with a slight hesitancy and slipped out of the room.

'Roro waited until the door had safely closed to raise her eyebrow a mere millimeter at Logan.

He narrowed his eyes. "My choice offends you, Goddess?"

"We know nothing about her, Logan. She has not even accompanied us on a mission yet."

"I would almost think you didn't trust me, 'darlin'."

"Even mutants have to work to become that...walled off by the time they are twenty-three."

"Yeah." Logan smiled. "She's put in her time." He pulled his expression into one of complete blankness. "She'd probably tell you about it, if you'd ask."

"It's not that I believe any of us does not have one or two secrets. I am merely concerned." 'Roro took a pause from her regal facade to gaze at him with genuine worry and care.

His voice went low. "I know, an' I 'preciate it. My instincts tell me she's a keeper though."

"And if you are wrong?"

"I'd better just hope you're close enough to whip up one o' your lightning bolts and kick her ass for me." Logan reached across to where she was standing and cupped her cheek in his hand. She smiled before pulling away, once more the woman men had worshipped. She didn't make a sound when leaving the room.

Faith didn't make a sound upon re-entering either, but Logan could smell her before she made it through the door. She came up next to him and pretended rather nonchalantly not to care what had been said. For the first few seconds, anyway. When she did speak, it came out as a confession. "I don't think she likes me too much."

"I don't think she knows you too much." He looked at her, face devoid of expression.

Faith shifted minutely from one hip to another. "And you?"

The expression stayed the same. "I don't sleep with people I don't like."

"What about people you don't know?"

"It's been known to happen." The corners of his mouth curled. "You think that's what's happenin' here?"

She shrugged. "If it is, I've had worse flings."

He practically growled as he reached out and dragged her toward him. She was close enough that if he leaned his head forward they would touch foreheads. "I was going for something better than a fling."

Faith's pupils shrank back down to a semi-normal size. "Uh, okay. You realize that-"

"You're a relationship virgin? Yeah, got it." He decided the discussion was over and brought her mouth toward his with a hand behind her head. A few moments later, he frantically disengaged long enough to mutter, "Cerebro, lock the door." Those were the last sounds of any coherence uttered in the strategy room for awhile.

Faith found 'Roro sitting on a window sill, legs dangling outside the mansion. Shielding her eyes, the younger woman realized uncomfortably that looking up at the mutant in question didn't seem all that unnatural. 'Roro noticed her observer, picked up the wind, and glided gently down to ground level.

Faith stood her ground even as the taller woman landed within her personal space. "I'm glad you're protective of him."

'Roro stepped back. "That statement does not gain you a place among the people I trust."

"If it did, we'd be discussing your survival instincts right now." The brunette put an indicative hand to her chest. "Ask, Storm."

"Ask what?"

"I dunno. Where my home town is, what my real hair color is, how many pets I had as a child...your pick."

"What kind of a woman doesn't have a last name?"

"Carr. My last name is Carr. I don't think my parents would have chosen to give it to me if they had thought the whole baby-making decision through a little better, so I swore not to use a last name unless I was given one by someone who meant it. Besides, I haven't heard Logan introduce himself as Mr. anything."

"What were you doing in jail?"

"The basic charge was manslaughter, which was lucky considered I stabbed him in the heart with a wooden stake. The rest were kind of just tacked on: assault, robbery, defacing of public property, the list is pretty long."

"A wooden stake?"

"How much do you know about vampires?"

"Enough." 'Roro's expression was not one of fond remembrances.

"I'm a Slayer, I slay vampires. Professor thinks that Slayers have been mutants for generations. Easiest way to dust a vamp is the clichéd but effective stake-through-the-heart."

"Out of the fact that I believe you would have thought up a more down to earth response if you were going to lie, I will believe you for the moment. What do you want from Wolverine?"

"I dunno." Faith looked at the other woman and realized that was not a satisfactory response. "He does all those things that Miss America contestants get up there and say they want in a guy, you know, like," Faith batted her eyes in a fair imitation of ditziness, "'I want him to listen to me, and not judge me and make me smile.'" Her eyes focused on the woman she was speaking to once more. "He takes things at our own pace, phrases like 'too fast' or 'painfully slow' don't enter into the picture when we're alone. He makes me feel like makeup and a slutty outfit aren't the only attributes I possess. Other than not using the claws, he doesn't hold back when we fight. He's messy and surprisingly tactful, considering all the scents and sounds he must deal with. He knows every way of cheating at poker ever created and he still plays by the rules. He has stories about Japan and great soccer matches and wars that never get much space in books. He says my name without any kind of question or suspicion behind it... I don't know."

'Roro smiled slightly. "What is your real hair color?"

Faith was confused for a moment. "Oh." She motioned to her head. "This. I just threw that suggestion out."

The older woman nodded and silently began to walk away. Faith called out to her back, "Did I pass?"

"It was not a calculus exam." She continued to walk.

"That a yes or a no?"

'Roro smiled to herself at the girl's persistence. "Yes."

Faith would admit that one of the disadvantages in allowing her empathic abilities to develop was a new hyper-awareness of others' anxiety and restlessness. The only redeeming factor to the situation was that Wolverine, smelling the emotions without having to actually sense them, seemed to understand her unease and try his best to relieve some of it.

He had taken her skinny dipping in the pond about two miles off the school's property, read mystery suspense novels out loud to her and even cajoled Jean into baking peach tarts for desert one evening. Faith wasn't even sure how he had found out she liked them so much. She couldn't remember mentioning it to anyone in the mansion. He had presented her with peppermint massage oil and proceeded to put it to good use for hours afterward, indulged in some of his favorite passages from the kama sutra with her and taught her the uses of morning meditation. He had gotten her drunk on something he brewed himself and maneuvered her into talking about how she saw the team. When her nightmares started resurfacing in reaction to the underlying emotional discomfort she was experiencing, he got Scott to move back her time in the danger room so she could sleep in for an hour every morning.

She was surprised, one morning, to see the alarm clock present a bright blue digital 7:00 am upon waking up to the tone of his voice.

"Hi sleepyhead." His voice was always lower in the morning.

"Yeah, that's precisely what I am, and I have an hour of sleep left." She was more perplexed than annoyed. It was hard to get mad at someone who was treating her so well. She rolled into his chest and away from the light beginning to sneak in underneath the curtains.

"I wanted to be the one to spend the first hour of your 24th birthday with you. You couldn't honestly expect me to give that honor to Scotty, now could you?"

"I'm training with Kurt this morning." The reflexive answer left her mind before she could assemble the question that was to follow. "It's March 27th? How did you know?"

"We do have files on you. You had an existence before we found you, it would've been foolish of us not to look it up."

Faith's throat was burning. "Thanks for waking me up. I lost track of the days. Last time anyone remembered the day was when I was ten or something like that, family used to throw birthday parties for looks."

Logan dipped his head and bit lightly at one of her shoulders. He released his teeth. "Got anything special you'd like to do?"

"Nah, the nice wake up was good all by itself."

Logan put the hour left to them to good use and sent her off to Kurt with a smile that would boost any man's ego. He made his way down to the kitchen and opened the cabinet to search out some breakfast.

"I don' tink what y're lookin' f'r 's gonna 'ppear." Gambit peered around him to look at the contents of the cabinet.

Logan moved. "Sorry, bub."

"Y'not usually de deep and broodin' type, mon ami."

"Can you keep yer mouth shut about something?"

"Unless you 'bout to tell moi your plans f'r blowin' up de mansion."

"It's Faith's birthday today. I figured she'd have something she wanted to do so I didn't make plans, but she didn't even remember when I woke'er up this morning."

Remy pulled out a bag of Chex Mix and popped a handful into his mouth to avoid grimacing. "Not one o' y're better romantic moments."

"Helpful, Gumbo."

"I'm 'tinkin'. Don' tell de rest o' dem, but I'm only so good."

"I'll be sure to remember that information in case I ever need a favor from Rogue."

"D'you wan' Remy's help or non?" He waited for the silence that greeted him to continue. "She close wid any o' de femmes?"

"Jeannie, mostly."

"Can I tell her?"

"Probably already knows."

"Give moi un heur. I'll have a plan f'r y' den."

"An hour, LeBeau. I'm wearing a watch."

"Watch out, de femme be changin' y'r barbarian ways."

The Cajun was as good as his word; he found Logan lifting weights fifty-five minutes later. Jean was with him. She sat down on the edge of the bench press and crossed her legs. "She'll be embarrassed if you call too much attention to the day."

Logan racked the weights and sat up. "Tell me something I can't figure out on my own, Jeannie."

"If we take her out to dinner as a team, your debt to society at large will be paid."

"That simple?"

"No, you have to figure out a gift and put forth some really spectacular sex this evening. But for the rest, yeah."

"Where we dinin', Wolv'rine?"

"There's a place she likes in the city that's not too small. Lemme call, see if I can get us in." Logan got up and brushed Jean's shoulder with his fingers. "Thanks, darlin'."

"Oh, you know, I kind of like her." Jean smiled sweetly and Remy laughed. Logan shook his head and walked from the room.

Getting reservations wasn't exactly hard, it just took a little more tact than Logan usually preferred to employ. By the time he had hung up the phone and taken a shower, he had a little over two hours before Faith was done with training for the day. He grabbed the keys to the truck, sent a mental message to Jean that she was to distract Faith if he wasn't back on time and headed out of the mansion.

An hour and a half later, he slid back into the house, smuggled the present to 'Roro who assured him she knew how to wrap gifts and went to meet Faith in her room. Kurt had evidently let her out early, because he could hear the water running and smell the open bottle of shampoo from down the hall. He met her with a towel as she was finishing up. She stepped into it and allowed him to dry her. When he was finished, he swept her up in his arms and carried her to where she had laid out some jeans and a shirt on the bed. She waited to be set down before beginning to dress. "Kurt looked exhausted today. Kinda gotta wonder what's goin' on with Covel."

Logan nodded in agreement; Remy hadn't been looking his best either. "Hopefully, things'll close up soon in that corner o' the world."

"You don't sound like you believe it." Faith buttoned the shirt from the bottom, leaving the top two undone. The cotton fell suggestively against the contours of her chest and Logan sat down next to her on the mattress.

"The stick up Scott's ass has been unusually large. Not a good sign."

Faith made a slightly reproving face at him in the midst of pinning her still-wet hair up. "What is it between you two? And don't tell me Jean, because you haven't really been pursuing her for some time. Too much of a realist."

"The ease of having someone on your side to take out all the pent-up aggression on, I guess. Cyke's great fun in a danger room session."

"A twenty-four hour sparring session then."

"You could call it that. Plus, just the principle of it. Can't let the kid off too easy."

"Of course not. Kid."

Logan smiled at the veiled reference to her own age and leaned into kiss her lightly. "What were ya gonna do this afternoon?"

"Find where I stashed 'The Hobbit' in the library and dive in for a couple of hours."

"'The Hobbit'?"

"Tolkien is surprisingly wicky. If you've tried him, you can counter this point, if not, I don't wanna hear it."

"When I figure out what the word 'wicky' is supposed to be tellin' me, then I'll argue with ya." He flicked a hair that hadn't made it into the chopstick-like mechanisms holding the bun back out of her eyes. "Want some company?"

"You don't have anything to do for the next couple of hours?"

He shook his head. "Nothing that terribly important." He hoped Hank had gotten the message that he wouldn't be joining him for a practice session that afternoon.

Faith considered the likeliness of this occurrence and smiled softly. "I told you I didn't need anything for my birthday. Not that I'm complaining, because I would love to spend the afternoon with you, but I don't say one thing and mean another."

"Call me a sap."

"For real?" Eyebrows went up in an expression of playfulness. Logan growled. She stilled for a moment and drew a breath. "I was going to make one phone call this afternoon. You wouldn't mind staying around while I do that?"

"Sure you want me to?"

Faith put a hand to her stomach in a subconscious effort to quell the nausea that had snaked up on her. "Yeah, I wasn't really looking forward to being by myself when I made it."

Logan didn't say anything, instead getting up and grabbing the phone to toss it to her. She caught it and gave a nod of appreciation. "I just hope he's still where he was when last time I checked." With that, her fingers moved easily along the numbers, pushing in the eleven digit code. She tucked the phone underneath her ear and closed her eyes as she counted the rings. In the middle of the second one, a voice that could only have belonged to Cordelia answered the phone.

"Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless."

"Is Angel there?" Faith opened her eyes and tried to keep her voice as bland as possible; she doubted Cordy would be thrilled at the idea of handing over the phone if she knew who was on the line. Logan noticed the subtle waver that had infused her normally steady tone and made his way back to the bed, where he sat behind her and straddled her so that she could lean against him for support. Cordy must have heard that same waver, because she transferred the call without hesitation.

A male voice filtered through the line. "Hello?"

"Angel? This is Faith."

"Faith?" His tone was more "where the hell have you been" than disbelieving, but Faith felt she ought to describe herself anyway.

"Black hair, bad attitude-"

"I only know one Faith. I haven't spoken to her in about five years."

"A little bit less actually, but yeah."

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Angel's voice was smooth and neutral.

Faith bit her lip. "A couple of things, not the least of it being that I have somewhere to call from. Angel, B is all right, yeah?" She tried desperately not to show how urgent the last question was to her, but had the feeling that the sudden change of topics was a dead giveaway.

"Sentinels bothering you too?" There was an edge of sympathy to the question. "The Scooby's are keeping her safe, she'll be fine."

"Bet business is hopping for you, with all the mutant chasing that's going on." There was an edge to her voice. It wasn't that she particularly doubted that Angel would be willing to help mutants, just that she wondered if they fell under his sometimes narrow definition of "hopeless."

"I wouldn't mind it quieting down some."

"It's the same all over."

"You take up the slayer gig again?"

"Kinda. I was something of the traveling Angel show for a bit." Something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh came from his side of the phone. "And now?"

Faith squeezed Logan's arm with her free hand. "Shacked up with some do-gooders on the east coast."

"Anybody I might have heard of?"

There was a moment of hesitation. "They're mutants."

"Are you safe with them?"

Logan wrapped his free arms around her waist and squeezed until she gasped. He smiled and loosened his grip just enough for her to breath. She smiled. "Safer than I've ever been."

"You sound...calmer."

"I owe you."

"No. You know how I feel about that. I appreciate the call though."

"I promise the next one won't take so long."

"Talk to you later then."

"Bye Angel." She waited for the click and dial tone that indicated the other man had hung up before punching the "off" button. She leaned back with enough force to push both of them back to where they were lying down, feet dangling off the edge of the bed. "Hey you?"

"Yeah?"

"Mind if we just stay here for the afternoon? Talk a little?"

He rolled over with her and tucked his legs up so that they were cuddling on their sides. "I can't promise to be as wicky as Tolkien."

Faith could practically hear the snicker he was holding back. "Yeah, well, I guess I'm looking for something other than wicky right now."

*

It was a few hours before either of them moved anything more strenuous than a finger. That was when Logan dragged a rather unpleased Faith off the bed. "We have plans."

"Since when?" She gave an affected pout.

He was unmoved. "This afternoon."

She followed him out to the garage where she was surprised to see the rest of the team waiting in cars. Remy pulled his legs into the car that he had been sitting sideways in and turned the ignition. "'Sbout time, mon ami."

Logan pulled the passenger door to the truck open for Faith none too gently and muttered, "Yeah, yeah, yeah."

She climbed in with a mystified smile, knowing he wasn't going to tell her anything more than he already had. He climbed in on the driver's side and lead the procession of cars down the driveway and on to the main road. The ride took a little over an hour and Faith recognized the area upon reaching it. She hid an all out grin. "Well, well, well, it would seem you do know how to make a girl feel special on her birthday."

Wolverine pulled in front of the restaurant, handed the keys to the boy who was valet parking and waited for her to reach his side of the car. They went in, gave the name on the reservation and sat down to wait for the rest of the team to make it in.

Faith spent all of dinner being distinctly amused that Bobby seemed more excited about her birthday than she was, touched by the fact that Jean had made and decorated the most gorgeous cake she had ever been privy to and speechless at the fact that all of them had taken the night off for her. She smiled at the mild coloring on Scott's face when the saxist in the band dedicated one of her favorite songs to her in honor of the occasion. She stood up, "Someone wanna dance with me?"

"If dey do, de're just gonna have t' wait." Gambit stood on the opposite side of the table from her, grabbed her hand and lead her out to the dance floor.

Sensing that Gambit was probably well trained in the art of dancing, Faith felt it only fair to tell him that it wasn't her fort1. He laughed and swept her arm onto his shoulder, locking her other hand into a waltzing position. She discovered that you didn't necessarily have to be good if your partner was. Kurt cut in about a third of the way through the dance and Remy left with a kiss to her hand. Kurt was interrupted by Bobby, who was interrupted by Warren. Warren reluctantly gave her up to Scott, who handed her over to Hank. Finally, after two rounds of dizziness and more laughter than she ever thought she would know, Hank turned to see Logan awaiting his chance. He bowed out, and Faith found herself in the arms of her lover.

"I was getting jealous." Logan pulled her in too close for her to do anything but clasp her arms around his neck.

"Remy's dating someone, Bobby's gay, Kurt is the closest thing to a monk you'll find outside of a monastery, Scott is married, Warren has serious wealth issues, and Hank...let's just say I don't particularly see him in that way. You're safe babe."

"Bobby's gay?" Logan had dimly registered that the others were unsuitable for other reasons.

"Don't tell him, I don't think he knows yet. I've never had a group of friends." Faith was pretty sure he wouldn't appreciate the use of the term "my own scooby gang."

"Nice segue way." His voice went drier than usual.

"Nice thirty six dollar word." Hers went slightly more sarcastic than usual.

"I'm falling in love with you." The growled words came out ever so softly.

Hers were even softer. "Fallen. At the bottom. Just waiting for you to catch up."

Neither of them said anything after that, just swayed until the end of the song, disengaged, sat down. Faith had trouble doing much more than smiling for the rest of the evening.

Hours later, Faith stumbled into Logan's room at his insistence and turned to smile invitingly at him.

He smiled back but shook his head and gestured toward the chest of drawers. "Not yet."

Faith looked to where he had pointed and noticed a long box atop the chest. Ever so slowly, she walked toward the box. "Um, what is this?"

"A present."

"Yeah, thanks." She splayed her fingers lightly on top of the box, as if trying to divine its contents.

"Faith."

She looked up at him.

"Open the box."

She followed his instructions, her reverence only slightly diminished. What she saw inside caused her to suck in a breath that Logan strained to hear released.

"Ya like it?"

"Holy..." She drew back from the box. "Where'd you get it? Why? I mean... It must have cost... Oh my G-d."

He laughed. "There's a guy a few towns over who grew up in Japan, was apprenticed to a maker. He either makes or buys the best in the states, among the best in the world. I thought you'd like to learn, that I could teach you. Pick it up."

She did so with the utmost care. The ivory handle warmed against her palm almost immediately and the weight of the Katana melted into nothingness. "So he made this?"

"No, this one's a few thousand years old."

If she hadn't been gripping the hilt so tightly she would have dropped it. With the blade squared between her eyes, Faith looked straight at him. "It's beautiful. It is one of the only gifts and definitely the best one I have ever been given."

Logan started to say something but she stopped him by continuing. "But more than that, thank you for giving me something that tells me you want to spend more time with me. I like that more than the shiny blade and the massively intricate handle and the awesome timeline of the sword put together. Understood?" Logan approached, gently took the blade from her and placed it in the box, turned and lovingly forced her back towards the bed. He took his time in showing her that he understood.

It was Scott and Rogue that found what they needed. Covel had worked as a lawyer for years before deciding politics was his true destiny. Upon reading the basic history, both of them had been duly unimpressed by this fact. Only upon noticing that Covel's ex-partner had, to all appearances, disappeared, did they start to dig deeper.

Harold Embry had been released from prison near to fifteen years before. A year later, with his parole up, he had simply fallen off the face of the earth. The only proof that he had ever existed was a birth certificate and the certification of death, supposedly in a car accident, which had turned out to be a fake. An extremely well done fake, but a fake nonetheless. Embry had manipulated and covered up evidence in a malpractice suit, getting his client (the doctor) off without so much as damage payment for leaving one of two twins dead and the other a vegetable at birth.

It took a lot of searching, piecing together of testimonies, bribery and intuition to find out where Harold Embry had gone. The end result was the discovery that there had been no Embry & Covel. Harold Embry had run a one-man firm. Upon finishing his parole, he had changed his name to Brian Covel and, knowing the way the law and official documents worked, almost fully covered his tracks. He had even been so careful as to be brazenly upfront about the whole situation when running for congress.

Scott presented all the evidence to the team early one Sunday morning in the strategy room. He made it clear that there was nothing solid to show to the press or any other outside agency. Rogue interrupted to point out that Beast had been right when he said that it was scandal politicians feared. Suspicion could be worse than any indictment.

"Even so, do you really think he's going to listen to a threat coming from a bunch of mutants?" Warren's tone conveyed his doubt. "I grew up around a lot of politicians, they can be pretty confident in the ability of spin doctors to make whatever comes out of their asses shine like gold."

"I may have a solution for you as far as that goes." Faith waited to see if anyone was going to protest. "I know a guy who deals with this kind of stuff, or things close to it, a lot. He's good about being quiet and getting his point across."

Jean was the one to jump in with practicalities. "Who is he? What kind of agency? Would it cost us for him to help? If so, how much?"

"His name is Angel, he basically goes after the things in Los Angeles that the police will never be able to track down. He wouldn't ask for money, but he has staff who have to eat, so it would be nice to give him something."

"How do you know he will not betray us?" The question came from 'Roro, but it seemed only sensible, not angry or accusatory.

"Angel has some sense of being an outcast. He is not accepted either by humans nor his own kind. Besides, he has an obsession with redemption for past crimes, his whole life is about helping others." Faith's tapped her heel against the ground. "He saved everything worth saving inside me. You don't just abandon a project you started."

It took a moment for the team members to digest this. Kurt was the first to regain equilibrium. "You say he is not human. How does this help us?"

"The people who work for him are. They're absolutely loyal. Trust me, they've had more than their fair share of opportunities to prove it."

"So you propose we just give over the information to this guy and let him run with it?" Warren sounded wary at the prospect.

"I was more for giving him a guided tour and a brainstorming session along with that kind of package trip, but I'll stand behind what the team decides on." Faith bit the inside of her lip lightly.

Professor X smiled slightly at her defensive words and posture. "Could you get ahold of this Angel for us?"

Faith almost started talking with the lip still between her teeth. She hadn't expected the Professor to speak. The team generally ran by democracy, but it was an understood that the Professor's decisions overrode any others. "Uh, yeah, no problem." She gently pushed Rogue's feet away from the communications console and dialed in the California number. "It's only eight or so their time, I don't know what time they all make it in to the office."

The dial tone rang once through the room. "I'm t'inkin' it might be better to be seein' this Angel o' yours." Gambit's tone was not without humor, but it was clear he felt better knowing what the man they could be handing the future of mutants over to looked like.

Faith switched the panel to visual and turned to the Professor. "You'll need to be the one to ask for him, his employees will hang up if they see me."

The Professor wheeled to where she was standing as she moved out of the way. A moment later, Cordelia popped on the screen with shorter hair and more concerned eyes than when Faith had last seen her. "Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless. What can I do for you?"

Professor X smiled. "I would like to speak to Angel, is he in?"

"He is. can I ask what the problem is, sir?"

"Though I regret having to push you off in such a manner, the matter is extremely private and as such I feel that I can only talk to Angel about it."

Cordelia considered the newest client for a moment before nodding. "I'll transfer the call to him."

"My thanks."

Faith was at his side the moment the call began to transfer. Angel appeared on the screen a few seconds later. Unsurprisingly, he looked the same as when she had last seen him. She wondered if the coat was the same one he had worn back then, or if he had found some store that always sold the same clothes and never went out of business. "Hey Angel."

He gave what passed for a smile with Angel. "Faith, you're looking good."

She nodded. "Cordy looks to have grounded a bit."

"It hasn't been an easy five years." Angel's guilt was always so physical, at that moment it came near to being painful for Faith.

"It was meant as a compliment, you've done well by her." She lowered her voice a touch. "How's Wesley?"

"Intact. Maybe a bit more stable than last you were around."

Faith tapped her thigh. "Yeah, well, I think we both can guess whose fault that is." The look they shared was one of pained and uneasy amusement. "Angel, I didn't call to reminisce."

"I know. Who's the guy you used to get past my fearsome receptionist?"

"His name is Professor Charles Xavier. Remember I told you I shacked up with the goody-two-shoes gang?" She got a nod from the man listening and continued. "He's the head of it. We need a favor."

"We?"

"Well, the X-Men specifically right now, but mutants in general, pretty much."

"X-Men. I've heard of them. Good things." He looked at her closely. "Plus, if you're telling the truth, this'll probably help Buffy."

"Look, I could try and explain the situation to you, but I'd leave shit out, so I'm gonna hand you over to resident situation expert Scott, here," she pulled the team leader up to the screen, "and you can talk amongst yourselves."

Angel called out to her as she swerved out of the screen's reach, "Faith."

She peered back. "Yeah?"

"Thanks for coming to me."

She nodded and pulled her head out of the viewing area once again. She made her way over to where Logan stood and leaned against him. They both listened to the way of Scott and Angel's conversation in silence for a few minutes before Logan leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Ya done good girl. Real good."

Faith didn't answer back, but she buried her face in the flannel shirt he was wearing so that none of her teammates would see the idiotic grin that refused to go away.

The end of the Covel threat, when it came, felt severely anti-climatic to Faith, who was used to the feeling of staking something and walking past its falling ashes. Logan assured her that the X-men were generally more of the hands-on type as well.

As it turned out, Angel had sent Cordelia, Wesley and someone he referred to as Gunn in to talk with the Congressman while he monitored all proceedings from a nearby spot in the ventilation system. The trio had made their less than slightly-veiled threats clear and had pointed out that it might be best for all concerned if a cease of the MRMs, and a release of the mutants being currently held was suddenly to occur.

Covel had quickly held a press conference stating that he and several other leaders of the program felt it best for mutants not to be held apart from others, but rather to be reintegrated into society to serve their given community. Professor X received whispers in his ear from D.C. pertaining to the fact that many a senator had been paid to go along with Covel's change of intentions.

However it was accomplished, the camps were disabled within a month and near to two hundred mutants fled their confines to go back into quiet hiding. The X-men were able to recruit near to fifteen, the rest were afraid to go anywhere near a house holding more than two mutants.

Less than a week after the chaos of finding room for each of the new mansion occupants and doing clean-up duty to make sure nothing was traceable to the team, Faith found herself floundering. While she suspected that Jean and the Professor were the first to notice, she was not surprised by Logan being the first one to bring it up.

"Creatures o' the night callin' to ye?" Logan asked the question in the most unconcerned tone he could muster, hoping to catch her off-guard in the post-orgasmic glow.

"Huh?" Faith rolled on top of him. "Oh. Kinda, in a way."

"Very descriptive." He was lying very still beneath her. The last thing they needed at this point was distraction.

"Out there, killing them, I help people, pay off my debt, whatever you wanna call it. Here, with my little pet project over, I feel like a spare wheel. I train for something that nobody cares to define in the daytime, have lovely sex with you at night and get...what accomplished?"

"We train to protect humans should the need arise. And it does, darlin', this I swear."

"Meanwhile there are hundreds of thirsty little fiends hunting upon those humans night after night."

"Tell me what you want."

"Look, come the time, I can follow orders, be a team player. It's a new skill, but it's coming along pretty well. In the meantime, I need to get out at night, roam around, play guard outside the local hot spots. It took me awhile to get back into the Slaying thing, but it's a calling, it's not something you pick out of a career book in the third grade. I need-"

"Relax, babe. Killing bloodsuckers it is."

"Really?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"I dunno, just expected there to be more of a fight."

"Ye're always geared up for that."

"Trustworthy is not the first word people who know me associate with my name. It usually takes a bit more convincing that the things I want to do aren't going to screw them in the end."

"I know you."

"Yeah, well-"

"I trust you."

Faith opened her mouth to spurt a come back, realized she didn't have one and closed it.

"You don't happen to have extra wooden spikes lying around?"

"They're not hard to come by if you know where to go. Why?"

"The Scooby Gang thing seems to have worked for your Buffy."

Faith closed her eyes to concentrate on the fluttering of happiness that had settled in her stomach. She allowed herself a tiny laugh.

Logan tapped his finger to her temple. "Penny to get inside."

"Just thinking that with you on the team, it would have to be the Shaggy Gang." Faith opened one eye cautiously.

Logan bared his teeth in the semblance of a grin. Faith closed her eye. In the bridged moment of wakefulness right before sleep he heard a soft comment float to his ears. "You redeem me."

He crossed over into sleep, but not before promising himself that one day he would tell her it was the same for him.