"Shut yer trap an’ hand me the spare, Cajun."

Gambit stared at Logan, the brawny man crouched by the front right tire. He held a flashlight and was closely examining the sharp rock piercing the rubber treading.

Deciding a fight was not worth the effort, the lanky Cajun pocketed the cards he had been shuffling and headed for the back of the jeep to look for the spare. The black woods surrounding the narrow highway loomed above the vehicle, and Gambit shivered as he fumbled in the dark for the latch to open the back of the jeep.

"Gambit city born and city bred. Dese woods ain’t to my liken, Logan." He called up front.

"Quit yer yappin’, Cajun. I sure as hell didn’t drag ya’ out into these parts."

Too true, Gambit agreed mournfully. When he had heard that Logan was going up to his cabin for the weekend, Gambit had asked to go along. He wanted to get away for a little bit—Rogue, Bobby and Storm were gone on a mission, and he was tired of Bishop constantly watching him no matter where he went. Gambit would not put it past the man to stick a surveillance camera in his toilet!

Still, he had not anticipated the lonely tracks of mountain and forest, the isolation…or nights that were truly pitch black.

A swift breeze passed over his face, carrying the heady scent of pine sap and rich earth. He inhaled deeply, savoring the essence of the woods. On the other hand, this was something he could never find in the city.

"Smell dat, mon ami?" Gambit called to Logan. "Dat is grand, non?"

Silence.

Gambit frowned, and walked around the jeep. Logan stood silently, body rigid. His face was tense and lost in concentration. His nose flared as he sniffed the air deeply, and he clenched the flashlight in his right hand, the light pooling onto the tire at his feet.

Gambit swiftly seized a card from his pocket, but did not charge it.

"Logan," he whispered tersely.

Another sniff. "There’s someone in the woods…"

Logan’s eyes narrowed, and abruptly he shut the flashlight off, leaving Gambit in total darkness. He began to protest but thought better of it, clamping his jaw tightly in irritation. His eyes quickly adjusted to the lack of light, though he could only make out the barest shadows. As he expected, Logan had already disappeared.

May you live in interesting times…the words passed through his mind. That old Chinese curse was working over time in his life—in the lives of all the X-men for that matter. Interesting times. Why couldn’t they even have a flat tire without there being some sort of catastrophe?

A deep throated cry of pain cut through the night, the sound echoing around Gambit. That was followed by other noises—Logan swearing in frustration, branches breaking…chains rattling?

Gambit strained his eyes, searching the woods for any sign of his friend, and within a few moments, he caught a glimpse of shadowed movements beneath the trees.

"Open up the back door, Gumbo. And grab a blanket from the trunk." Logan’s gravelly voice resounded. Gambit stared a moment longer before following the order. When he returned to the side of the jeep with the blanket, Logan was already there, leaning over the back seat with the flashlight on. Gambit stared down into the car.

"Mon Dieu." He gasped.

A young woman lay stretched out on the seat, face white and locked in a grimace of pain. Her T-shirt was torn in several places and the remains of her jeans barely covered the mangled flesh of her left leg. A huge trap bit into her ankle, the rusty iron clamping down angrily on the white flesh. The remains of a chain dangled out of the car, banging on the jeep’s metal frame.

Gambit’s eyes rose again to her face. Short brown hair lay plastered to her head, and her pale cheeks were sunken in. Eye lids clenched together tightly, her lips compressed into a thin line. She did not make so much as a whimper, though Gambit could not imagine how much she was suffering.

"Hold her leg, Gumbo."

Gambit hurriedly reached out and grasped the woman’s leg just below her knee. The position was awkward, and Gambit could feel blood soaking into his palms. He shoved the flashlight into his other hand, the beam directed towards the trap.

Gambit caught a quick glance of Logan’s face, blue eyes seething with barely suppressed fury. Gambit quickly looked away. He never was more glad that Logan was his friend and not his enemy.

"Ok, darlin’. Just hold tight, an’ we’ll get this thing off o’ your leg." Logan spoke reassuringly. A far cry from the expression on his face.

With a confirming glance at Gambit, Logan took hold of the steel trap and with a powerful wrench, pulled the jaws apart. The woman jerked once, her body trembling with fatigue and pain. Yet she remained silent, lips so white Gambit could barely discern them from the rest of her pale face. Both men grimaced as the teeth of the trap left her leg, tearing more flesh in the process of removal.

Logan threw the trap into the back of his jeep, grunting in disgust while Gambit tore a few strips from the blanket to tie around the woman’s bleeding leg. He could see dirt mixed into her wound, and long, red scratches marred what little uncovered flesh she had.

"This girl needs a hospital, mon ami."

Logan ran a hand through his hair. "There ain’t any near here. The most we can hope for is some town doctor, and the nearest town is still an hour away."

"Then we get started, eh?"

They reached the town of Eversted in thirty minutes. Gambit was sure that no two men had ever changed a tire so quickly, while Logan drove his jeep on the curving highway with a single minded intensity that Gambit thought he only reserved for when he killed people.

The woman spoke once during the drive, asking for their names. Her voice was high and sweet, her words a gentle though pain filled murmur that floated from the dark confines of the back seat.

"Don’t worry darlin’. You’re in good hands." Logan spoke gruffly.

"He be right, chere." Gambit echoed, twisting around in his seat to look at her face. "Remy and Logan keep you safe."

He stared into her eyes—dark pools that seemed to take up her entire face. She blinked several times before closing them, and Gambit thought he saw her nod slightly.

The doctor did not appreciate being roused from his sleep by the hammering at his door. And when faced by two men, faces chiseled and hard, he was even more reluctant to listen to them. Until he saw the woman cradled in the shorter man’s arms.

"Is that—oh my. Come in, come in." He opened his door wider, and ushered them into his home. "Just follow this hall down to the door on your right. It leads into an examining room." The doctor left them alone to rush up his stairs.

Gambit and Logan stared at his retreating back, and then at each other. Hardly the professional place to bring the woman, but they did not have many options at the moment. They found the examining room just as the doctor said they would. There was another door that led from the room, and Gambit opened it to reveal a hallway and what looked to be the main body of a clinic.

He shut the door just as the doctor returned, Logan gently laying the woman down on the examining table. Her dark eyes were open, flickering from Gambit to Logan to the doctor with an indefinable expression. He could not imagine how she was coping with the pain, and he felt a surge of admiration for her.

The doctor hovered over her leg, unwrapping the strips of blanket that Gambit had used as a bandage. The woman stiffened more than once, and Logan reached out a steadying hand which Gambit noted she clutched gratefully.

"Do you know what caused this?" the doctor asked after a long moment of staring at the torn and bloody flesh.

"Hunter’s trap." Logan replied curtly.

"I see, I see. This is quite a mess."

Logan growled, and Gambit felt his own irritation. Before they could speak, the woman’s weak voice brought the doctor’s head up.

"Can you fix my leg, Doctor Pierce? And please…don’t lecture me." her voice was filled with pain, but there was no mistaking the dry humor that touched her words.

The three men stared at her dumbly for a moment, and she stared back, the faint light of a challenge mustering itself in her eyes. Logan snorted, whether from amusement, admiration or both, Gambit could not tell.

"You heard the woman, bub. Get your ass in gear."

Spots of color appeared on the doctor’s cheeks and his eyes hardened. Gambit reached into his pocket to finger his deck of cards.

"Now, now, Anne." Doctor Pierce looked down at the woman. "I was just getting to that."

"You two know each o’der?" Gambit asked. Anne remained silent, her eyes closed in pain as the doctor began to clean her wound. None too gently, it seemed. Didn’t the man have pain killers?

"Oh yes, every one knows Anne." The doctor responded absently, though the tone of his voice seemed faintly disapproving.

Logan and Gambit looked at each other, eyes troubled.

"Why is that?" Logan asked.

"Hmmm? Oh, Anne goes up into the woods for weeks at a time. Been arrested twice for harassing hunters, disturbing traps. Comes back looking like a wild thing, only half human."

Gambit began to truly dislike the man before him. There was a cold absentmindedness to the way he spoke of Anne, and the patronizing tone of his voice hinted at a wayward child, rather than the brave young woman he and Logan had rescued.

"I shouldn’t have to explain myself to any of you." Anne gasped suddenly.

"So you’ve said." The doctor brushed her off, and Anne shut her jaw with an audible snap.

Gambit scowled, and glanced at Logan, whose blue eyes hardened noticeably.

The rest of the examination was conducted in tense silence. Anne had a broken ankle, which the doctor set before stitching up her leg. Logan insisted that Anne be given pain killers, and soon she was in a light slumber. After injecting a heavy dose of penicillin into her arm, the doctor declared her fit to go.

Logan gave him the address of the Mansion as a place where he could send the bill. With extra penicillin in a little white bag, and other instructions for Anne once she woke, the three were hurriedly ushered from the doctor’s home.

Once they were in the jeep, Anne sleeping in the back seat, Gambit spoke up.

"I don’ know ‘bout you, mon ami, but Gambit don’ like dis place much."

"Same here, Gumbo. Somethin’ don’t smell right."

"So, what now?" Gambit spread his hands. "We didn’t ask where her place is, an’ Gambit not goin back up to de doctor. Gambit don’ trust him."

"I saw a motel down the street a ways. Let’s get some shut-eye an’ we can talk tomorrow when Annie wakes up. I want ta’ ask her a few questions."

"Yeah, like how her pretty ankle got caught in a trap, and why she was in de woods sixty miles from de nearest town."

"Somethin’ like that."

They rented only one room for the night, a double. Anne got one of the beds, Logan gently laying the sleeping woman on the mattress while Gambit pulled back the covers. Gambit took the other bed at Logan’s insistence.

"I’ll be thinkin’ too much ta’ sleep. ‘Sides, you get in a lousy mood when ya’ don’t get enough shut-eye."

"Well, you ain’t so sweet yourself, Logan."

"Yeah, but I’ve got an image ta’ uphold."

Gambit chuckled, and fell back against the pillows.

When Gambit awoke the next morning, he was the only one in the room. Sunlight was creeping in through the bottom of the curtain, and the sound of the shower filled the murky air of the room. Gambit glanced over at Anne’s bed and found her missing. He leapt to his feet just as the door to the room opened. Logan stepped in, and Gambit heard the sound of the water being turned off.

His friend carried several bundles under his arms, and he stepped past the confused Cajun without barely a glance, just as the bathroom door opened. Anne peered out, face and hair damp, a towel wrapped around her slim body. Her large eyes studied the men intently, features thin and pointed. Gambit was not sure if she was beautiful, though the word ‘striking’ came to mind.

A wry smile pulled at her lips, and she gestured towards the packages that Logan held.

"Those for me?"

Logan grinned, and Gambit watched as he pulled out jeans, a red flannel shirt, and some underwear and socks.

"Not the height o’ fashion, Annie, but it’ll get ya’ through the day."

She laughed, the effect on her features startling. Beautiful indeed, Gambit’s mind declared.

Anne came forward to take the clothes, and Gambit noticed with a start that she had removed her air cast. Black and purple bruises marred her flesh and there were still scars, but she walked without a limp. Only a healing factor could explain why she was up and moving, and that posed new questions for Gambit to ponder.

Anne stood before them, and though she was wrapped only in a towel, quiet dignity emanated from her. Gambit was surprised that she could be in the presence of two strange men and not exude the slightest trace of nervousness.

"I want to thank you two. You took an awful burden on yourselves last night, and I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along. No one would have come looking for me." The last was spoken quietly, without self pity. For Anne, it was merely a statement of fact. Gifting them once again with her steady gaze and wry smile, she disappeared back into the bathroom with the clothing.

"Dat’s some woman." Gambit commented, still not quite sure what to make of her or the events of the previous night. Logan merely grunted his assent, but Gambit had seen the sure and gentle way he had cared for her, and the look on his face when he called her Annie. The Cajun smiled smugly to himself.

Logan sat down on one of the beds, and leaned back on his elbows. "Well, she’s definitely a mutant, but no one in this town seems ta’ know it. They just think she’s strange—a little crazy. Apparently, Annie owns a cabin up on the mountain—inherited it from her folks when they died. No one knows much about her."

"No one cares, dat’s de problem."

Logan shrugged, but Gambit could see the wheels turning behind his friend’s eyes.

The door to the bathroom reopened, and Anne stepped out. The clothes were a little large on her petite frame, and her hair was still damp, but she carried herself with an undeniable presence that filled the room. For a moment, Gambit felt shy, and that feeling shocked him. He hadn’t felt shy around a woman since he was fourteen years old. Logan cleared his throat gruffly, and Gambit wondered if she was having the same effect on him.

Anne smiled at the two men, as though she could sense their discomfort. She pulled on the bloodstained boots she had been wearing the night before, and straightened.

"Um, do you mind if we get out of here? I could use some fresh air."

"Lead the way, chere." Gambit bowed, sweeping an arm towards the door with a grand flourish. Logan glared at him.

Anne smiled, a true smile and not her wry grin, and she curtseyed. Without another word, she passed the two men and exited the small motel room.

"Hungry?" Logan asked, once they were outside.

She snorted.

"When you found me, I’d already been in the trap for almost two days. I had some trail mix in my pack, but that didn’t last too long." For the first time, Gambit realized that the gaunt lines of her body were due to starvation.

"And you still standing? Chere, you shoulda told us!"

"Trust me, I’m stronger than I look. Besides, I really didn’t feel like eating last night."

Logan shook his head.

"Come on, darlin’. Let’s get some food into ya’. If I were in your shoes, I’d claw my way through a steel wall ta’ get some grub. And I bet ya’ have an accelerated metabolism ta’ top it off, don’t ya’, what with your fast healin’ an’ all." It was a statement and not a question. Anne’s face paled, and her eyes flickered to her leg and then back to their faces.

"Ya’ don’t have to worry around us, Annie." Logan reassured her gruffly. "We’re mutants, too."

Anne froze, her eyes slowly taking in both men. Gambit felt startled by the intensity of her gaze, and he wondered if Anne had a mutant gift beyond her healing factor. She emanated power, despite her easy going manner and slight frame. Logan did not seem at all unnerved by her scrutiny and finally, Anne began to relax.

"I wasn’t sure if you were trying to trick me into revealing myself. Though I was careless enough to let it happen anyway." She looked at them ruefully. "No one in this town knows I’m a mutant, and I’d like to keep it that way."

Logan opened his mouth to speak, but stopped as Anne forcefully shook her head.

"We can talk about this later. Maybe it’s because of last night, but for some reason I trust you two. You’ve been nothing but goodness to me, and my warning bells haven’t so much as clinked. Besides," she motioned with her head towards the jeep parked beside them, "I’m starving and I don’t really feel like walking to the closest restaurant."

Logan grunted and stared at Anne intently for a brief moment. She stared back defiantly, one dark eyebrow arched expectantly.

"Well, come on then." He said finally, as though nothing had happened.

The three of them piled into Logan’s jeep, Anne sitting up front. She shook her head at the first restaurant, a clean, newer looking establishment called Pete’s Diner. They did not argue, and followed her directions until they reached a small brick building. A battered, weather beaten sign had the letters, ‘Faye’s’ written on it. The parking lot was packed.

"Best steaks in town." Anne grinned, and lithely jumped out of her seat, landing on her uninjured leg.

"Darlin’, you just made my day." Logan said, following her into restaurant, Gambit close on his heels.

Most of the diners were in their sixties and seventies, though Gambit spotted one or two younger couples in the crowd. The walls were painted white, and decorated with paintings and wood carvings that had been done by local artists. Price tags hung from them. An old fashioned ice cream counter with red leather topped stools sat in the back, and the intervening space was filled with tables of varying shapes and sizes, mismatched chairs at every one.

Gambit was acutely aware of eyes focusing on their small group, but Anne did not seem to mind and Logan merely tucked his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. A tall, burly man approached the three. His shaggy graying hair was tied back from a deeply creased face, and his nose looked as though it had been broken several times in the past.

"Anne," he greeted her cautiously, eyeing the men behind her.

"It’s all right, Ben." Anne reassured him. "These men are my friends."

Ben did not appear to relax, but he nodded curtly. "It’s been a while since you stopped by," he said, gathering up three menus and leading them to a small private table at the back of the restaurant.

"I know," she replied. "But I don’t like the town as much as I used to."

Ben looked at her sharply. He glanced at Logan and Gambit and frowned.

"You need anything, just call." Ben told Anne in a strong voice. Gambit could tell that he was not referring to their meal. Next to him, Logan’s fingers twitched in irritation.

Anne smiled thinly.

Ben noted her silence and scowled. He did not push the issue though, and left them to head back to the front doors of the restaurant where an elderly couple had just entered.

Anne sighed, and quirked her lips apologetically at Gambit and Logan.

"Sorry about that. Ben was a friend of my father, and ever since dad and mom died, he thinks he has a responsibility towards me. More of one than I’m sometimes comfortable with," she ended with a weak chuckle.

A waitress came by at that moment, and they ordered. Anne asked for a plate of steak and eggs, hash browns, bacon, and a side of pancakes. Of course, she wanted her steak rare. Logan grinned when he heard that, and ordered the same without looking at the menu. Gambit was not about to bust a gut trying to follow them, and quickly settled for an omelet.

After their order had been taken, there was a long moment of silence at the table. Gambit idly looked around the restaurant. A fair number of glances were being thrown their way, some curious while others were disapproving. He glanced at Anne, who followed his gaze around the room with resigned acceptance clouding her features.

"What do dese people have ‘gainst you, chere?"

She smiled tightly.

"Think of this town as a high school, and I’m the bad girl that everyone talks about. You know how it goes. Parents die tragically, quits school, withdraws and becomes a troublemaker. Great for gossip, though I get tired of them looking at me like I’m a time bomb waiting to go off."

"Why do ya’ stay then, darlin’? There must be other places ya’ can go." Logan replied, eyes intent on her face.

Anne smiled sadly. "I want to leave. I keep telling myself to just pick up and go, but I have ties to this area. My parents—they loved this mountain. It was a sanctuary to them and for me. And then there’s the forest—the trees are practically my second family." Her face reddened as though she had said too much.

Logan sat back and crossed his arms.

"Ya’ mean it, don’t ya’."

"Excuse me?"

"’Bout the trees bein’ like family. Ya’ really mean it."

Anne opened her mouth and hesitated, indecision warring on her face.

"It’s all right, darlin." Logan whispered. "Ya’ can trust us."

The ghost of a smile traced Anne’s lips.

"I know." she whispered.

The reaffirmation of her trust sent a sent a mixture of surprise and warmth through Gambit, and he glanced at Logan. There was a strange glint in his eyes that Gambit had never seen before, and he wondered again at the strange quality of this young woman, that she could draw them in so easily though they hardly knew her.

Anne took a deep breath. When she finally spoke, her voice was pitched so low that Gambit and even Logan, had to lean forward in order to hear her.

"Healing more quickly than others isn’t my only mutant ability," she began. "You see…I can communicate with trees…and they talk back."

Gambit looked at her in disbelief. Anne noted his expression and scowled irritably.

"It’s true," she insisted.

"That’s all right, darlin’," Logan interjected. "We believe ya’. Right, Gumbo?"

Gambit shrugged noncommittally, and Logan snorted in disgust.

The scowl left Anne’s face, and she smiled wearily at Gambit.

"It doesn’t matter, Remy. If I hadn’t grown up hearing trees, I probably wouldn’t believe it myself."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Gambit sorry, chere. Gambit seen enough strange things dat dis shouldn’t be hard to believe. Just unexpected…dat’s all."

Anne looked as though she wanted to say more, but their meals arrived.

They ate in silence, more for Anne’s sake, who devoted herself to consuming her food with an odd mixture of gusto and restraint. Gambit was sure that after two days of not eating she would have stuffed herself in the first five minutes, and then gotten ill. Instead, she took careful, small bites, relishing each morsel that entered her mouth.

It took her more than an hour to finish, and in the meantime, Gambit and Logan carefully observed the restaurant and the other diners. One man in particular stared at Anne. His hair had gone white, and his face was soft. His eyes peered out like rough black stones from within the folds of his flesh, and his fingers idly tapped the wood table top.

When Anne finally finished eating, Gambit was more than ready to leave. He could tell by the tense hunch to Logan’s shoulders, that his friend was too. Their waitress came over to the table to clear their plates, and Logan paid the bill. As they were leaving, Ben caught up with them. Gesturing outside, they all piled out of the restaurant. Ben pointedly ignored Logan and Gambit, turning to face Anne.

"Anne, a trap went missing this morning, and Alec Trebner is blaming you."

Her eyes narrowed. "Where did he set the trap?"

Ben frowned. "An hour north. Maybe a few hundred yards off the Ridgeway Express. There’s a grotto up there that the animals love."

"Yes, I know." She hissed.

Ben took a step back. "Anne, you didn’t take the trap did you?"

Logan growled, his eyes darkening ominously. Gambit placed a restraining hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscles quivering below his palm. Not a good sign, he thought.

"Mon ami, we found de trap last night. Attached to Anne’s leg."

Ben’s eyes filled with doubt.

"But she’s walking …the traps Trebner uses are enough to hold a good sized bear."

Gambit could see Anne shaking her head in frustration and defeat.

"Nice going, Gumbo." Logan muttered.

The restaurant door opened, and the fat man with cold eyes that Gambit had seen watching Anne stepped out.

Ben turned around, and almost gratefully approached the newcomer.

"Maybe we can sort this out now. Alec, why don’t you talk to Anne about your trap."

"This here is Trebner?" Logan rasped.

The man nodded silently, eyes glittering. Without another word, Logan stalked to the back of his jeep and pulled out the trap they had removed from Anne’s leg. Seeing the ugly device in the daylight, Gambit wondered how Anne had managed to keep her foot. The teeth, stained with rust and her blood, dully glinted in the sunlight. Anne’s face paled.

Logan held it up by the chain. "This yours?"

Trebner gritted his teeth angrily.

That was all the answer that Logan needed. Without a moment’s hesitation, Logan pounced on the man, pummeling him into the ground. His belly and face resounded with the sounds of fists hitting soft, thick flesh, and Alec’s expression of rage changed to a look of fear and pain. Ben ran into the restaurant and reappeared moments later with a rifle, which he pointed at Logan.

Gambit took a flying leap and tackled him, the gun skittering across the pavement. A regular little brawl erupted, with Gambit and Logan in the middle of it. A few diners, the younger and rougher ones, rushed out and tried to attack the two X-Men but they were easily thrown off. At one point in the scuffle, Gambit caught Logan's eyes and the two grinned fiercely.

The roar of a gunshot ended the fight.

All actions stopped immediately, and nearly a dozen pairs of eyes lifted to find Anne with the butt of Ben’s rifle hugging her hip.

"Thank you." She declared. "We’ll be leaving now. Won’t we, boys?"

Gambit and Logan extricated themselves from the tangle of bodies, Logan getting in one last kick to Trebner’s stomach. No one tried to stop him. Anne held the rifle with steady hands, her eyes hard.

Ben clutched at his stomach with one hand, using his other in an attempt to stem the blood flowing from his broken nose.

"Anne!" he seethed. "What in the hell do you think you’re doin’?

"What does it look like, Ben?" Anne snapped.

His eyes narrowed.

"Perry woulda hated what you’ve become, girl."

Anne stiffened, bone deep sorrow flickering in her eyes. She studied the injured man and the other members of the town as though she was seeing them for the first time.

"Nah, Ben." She spoke quietly, determination slowly replacing the sadness in her face. "Daddy would be proud of me, and he’d be prouder still for the things I’m going to do."

She shook her head regretfully. "Good-bye, Ben."

Keeping an eye on the restaurant patrons, Logan, Gambit and Anne climbed into the jeep. Anne did not lower the rifle until they were well away.

"You all right, darlin?"

Anne smiled sadly. "Ben always did give low blows, but I knew my dad like the back of my hand and he would never, ever have hated me. No matter what. That was always the one constant of my life."

Logan glanced at her in the rear view mirror, his eyes penetrating. "What are ya’ gonna do now? Ya’ can’t stay here anymore."

She snorted derisively. "I practically signed the warrant for my arrest, didn’t I."

Logan nodded seriously, and turned in his seat to look at her.

"Ya’ could leave here with me an’ Gambit."

Gambit stared at him in astonishment, an astonishment that was mirrored in Anne’s eyes. He quickly schooled his features into a blank mask. He himself had thought about asking Anne to come with them, but hearing it from Logan amazed him.

"Leave with you?" she asked incredulously.

"Ya’ trust us, right?"

"Yes, but…but just pick up and leave? Then what?"

Logan shrugged. "One step at a time, darlin’. Way I see it, ya’ gotta leave this place, an’ it might as well be with friends."

She was silent for such a long time, both men turned to look at her with concern.

"Chere?"

Her eyes swallowed them both. Something in the way she searched their faces, pained Gambit. She reminded him of a person who could not remember what it was like to have other people care for them.

"It’s been a long time since I’ve had a real friend, let alone two." She admitted finally.

"Well darlin’, you’re stuck with us whether ya’ like it or not."

Gambit found his own head nodding in agreement.

"Dat’s right, chere. We a trio now, eh Logan?"

Anne blushed, and Gambit saw the mark of uncertainty in her eyes. He rushed to reassure her.

"Trust us, chere. Remy and Logan won’t ever hurt you." He caught her eyes.

After a long moment that kept the men’s ears straining towards the back seat, she spoke softly.

"Has anyone ever told you two that you’re both wonderful?"

Gambit grinned charmingly.

"Yeah, we are pretty nice, eh?"

"Speak fer yerself, Cajun."

"Yeah, yeah, Logan. Your image."

"Damn right."

Anne laughed out loud.

"So? Ya’ comin’ or what?" Logan asked gruffly.

She looked at the two men appraisingly, finally breaking into a sparkling grin.

"Trio. I like the sound of that."

Anne gave Logan directions to her home, a cabin perched on the mountain that over shadowed Eversted. They left the main road outside of town, driving on a gravel track that wound up through tall evergreens, pines, elm and oak. Sunlight poured down through the canopy, bathing their faces in intermittent patches of golden light. The jeep’s engine could not drown out the sound of bird song, and the scent of sap and fresh earth overcame the smell of car exhaust. Anne leaned back in her seat, her eyes half closed and her face slack.

Logan and Gambit looked at each other and shrugged. The higher they went into the mountains, the more silent she had become until now Anne seemed to be in some sort of trance. Gambit looked out at the trees they were passing and shivered. Intelligent? Aware? Trees grew everywhere. How could he expect to do anything out of doors anymore and not feel like he was being watched?

The forest thinned and Anne’s home came into view. The cabin was a large, sprawling affair with thick ivy and rose vines creeping up the walls. Wild flowers bloomed profusely and the faint sound of moving water tickled Gambit’s ears.

Logan nodded approvingly.

"Nice place."

"Glad you like it," Anne’s voice drifted from the back seat. "Mom always enjoyed having a more "wild" look to the place, although most of our visitors didn’t approve."

Logan grunted, climbing out of the jeep.

"Some people think dandelions are the devil incarnate."

Anne chuckled.

The cabin was just as pleasant on the inside, the faint scent of cinnamon and jasmine filling the air. To the left of the door was an airy sitting room, bright rugs and well used chairs scattered across the bright pine floor. Directly ahead a rail-less planked staircase rose to the second floor. A large, tidy kitchen sat on their right.

"Mi casa es su casa!" Anne called, disappearing immediately up the stairs. "My home is your home!"

Even as she spoke, Logan was sauntering into the sitting room. Gambit followed him, his sharp eyes honing in on the photographs perched on the mantle above the fireplace. He found one that showed Anne as a tiny girl, hugging the massive trunk of a tree. She was dressed in a white on green polka dot dress, and her dark hair hung past her ears in pig-tails. Her eyes shone with happiness.

Logan was scrutinizing another photograph, and Gambit looked at it from over his shoulder. Anne stood in the center of the picture, perhaps five years younger. There was a very attractive woman of middle years with her arms around Anne’s waist. Definitely her mother, Gambit thought. A man stood behind them, his brown hair shot with gray. He had a ready smile, though Gambit did not think he was one most women would call handsome. His features all seemed to be the wrong size for his face, but that grin…Anne took after her father, all right.

Logan stirred restlessly.

"Nice lookin’ family."

"Yeah, Logan. Dey look real thick wit each o’der."

The faint sound of foot fall alerted them to Anne’s presence.

"That was taken just a month before they were killed. Car accident." Anne told them, observing the photo they had been staring at. "My dad’s name was Perry. Perry O’Hanrahan. My mother’s name was Annabelle."

Anne looked wistfully at the photograph.

"I was named after her…but no one ever called her Anne. Wouldn’t have sounded right. She was too elegant and sophisticated for anything less than Annabelle."

"It’s hard losin’ the people ya’ love, darlin’." Logan commented softly, his eyes distant.

"You understand," she whispered, her cheeks reddening as she caught herself staring. Anne tore her eyes from Logan to look at the picture one more time.

With a deep shuddering breath, she removed it from the mantle piece. She took down the other photos as well, and it was only then that Gambit noticed the duffel bag at her feet. Anne had also changed out of the clothes that Logan had bought for her. Faded jeans hugged her slim legs, and she had put on a brown leather jacket over a tight white T-shirt. The heels of her boots tapped against the floor as she moved.

Anne straightened from tucking the photos inside of her duffel, and swung the bag over her shoulder.

"You pack fast." Logan looked at her pointedly, taking the duffel from her. She smiled her thanks and shrugged.

"I’ve always known that there might be a time when I would be forced to leave this place. I’ve been ready for a long while now."

Anne took one last look through the cabin, a myriad of emotions dancing across her face. When she shut the door behind her, her fingers lingered heavily on the brass knob.

As the men approached the jeep, she muttered something and ran off along a trail into the woods. Logan and Gambit looked at each other questioningly, but did not follow. Logan pulled out a cigar and leaned against the hood of his jeep, eyeing the area where she had disappeared into the forest.

Anne reemerged ten minutes later, her eyes red as though from crying.

"I had to say good bye to a few friends." she explained.

That was all Anne would say about the matter, and they did not press her for information. Logan took one last look around the cabin, and frowned.

"Ya’ got a car ya’ want ta’ bring?"

Anne shook her head ruefully.

"It’s in the back, but it’s a junker. I would just as soon never see it again."

Logan nodded, and motioned for her to climb in.

As they drove away, Anne twisted around for one last look. Then, with firm determination in her eyes, she turned away and kept her eyes planted on the road ahead.

"So, where are we going?"

They had driven out of Eversted less than an hour earlier and were moving south along the interstate. Anne had been somewhat prepared for someone to stop them, but they didn’t meet with any resistance. She wondered if the town was hoping she would leave.

"Well?" she asked again, looking expectantly at the two men. Logan had just lit up another cigar, and he stoically puffed at it. Gambit stared at him for a moment, and then twisted in his seat to look at her.

"Gambit and Logan takin’ you back to our home, chere."

"Well gee…that answers everything. And why do you call yourself Gambit? I thought your name was Remy."

"’Gambit’ is his code name, darlin’."

Anne’s lips twitched and she crossed her arms across her chest. "I’m almost afraid to ask, but why does he need a code name?"

The two men looked at each other. Gambit sighed.

"You see, chere, Gambit and Logan not like normal guys…"

"No, you certainly aren’t."

He looked at her suspiciously. A secretive smile played along her lips and her eyes seemed a little too bright. Frowning, he continued.

"You know dat Gambit and Logan are mutants, an’…an’…"

Logan growled around his cigar.

"Just spit it out, Cajun!"

Gambit threw his arms up in the air. "Fine! Anne, de two of us—"

"—are both members of the X-Men." She sat back, waiting for their response with a smug smile on her face.

Logan and Gambit turned in their seats to stare at her. The jeep began to swerve off the road, and Logan recovered from his surprise to steer the car back into its lane.

"We have it written on our foreheads or somethin’, darlin’? Or did ya’ read our minds?"

"Read your minds? That would be far too rude." She smiled mockingly.

"I may have spent the past few years in the sticks, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t keep up with what was going on in the world. I thought you two looked familiar, and when you told me you were mutants, I began to put two and two together. You boys have been caught on camera one too many times destroying the peace for your faces to be easily forgotten." She winked mischievously.

"Nice thinkin’, darlin." Logan nodded approvingly, puffing at his cigar. "Ya know where we’re goin’ then, dontcha?"

She furrowed her brows. "I’ve got a fairly good idea, but exactly why you’re taking me there is beyond me."

"Thought we already discussed this, Annie."

"No, Logan. When I asked what would happen after we left the town, you said to take things one step at a time. Well, we’ve left, so I think now would be a good time to ask the question again."

Logan shrugged, glancing at Gambit who was watching him just as expectantly as Anne.

"The X-Men take in all mutants that need help."

Her eyes narrowed, and she slowly folded her arms across her chest. "And I qualify as needy, huh?"

Gambit’s alarm bells shot off.

Play it cool, Logan, he prayed silently. Gambit t’ink dis one woman we don’ want pissed at us.

Logan eyed Anne appraisingly from his rear view mirror, cigar hanging loosely from between his teeth.

Oh Lord. Dat man is gonna blow it.

"Chere," he spoke up quickly, almost wincing as the full force of her withering gaze fell on him. "What Logan tryin’ to say is dat de Mansion is open to any mutant, ‘specially friends. And you chere, are definitely dat."

Her eyes softened only a fraction, and her gaze flickered once more to the back of Logan’s head.

"I appreciate what you fellows are doing for me, but you should know that I can take care of myself. I am not a charity case, nor will I let myself become one." Her words were edged with steely determination.

Logan nodded approvingly.

"That’s what I was waitin’ ta hear, darlin.".

"Glad I passed the test," she drawled sarcastically.

This time, Gambit did wince.

"Pull the car over, Logan." she commanded.

They were driving in the middle of the wilderness, and there was not much of a shoulder. Logan obeyed silently, pulling the jeep off the road as far as he was able to. A few cars passed, the passengers giving them curious looks.

The two X-Men twisted in their seats to stare at Anne. Logan looked as impassive as ever, but Gambit felt like he was staring down the barrel of a loaded shotgun.

She gritted her teeth. "Now that I have your complete attention, I’d like to set a few things straight. First of all, you asked me to come with you, not the other way around. True, I had to leave, but it didn’t have to be with the two of you…I could just as easily have gone on my own.

"My intuition that you two were X-Men also had no bearing whatsoever on my decision. In fact, from what I’ve heard, hanging around with the X-Men should be listed on the top ten most hazardous things to do." Her voice was scathing.

"The truth is though, that I like the both of you a lot. God only knows why, because it’s been years since I felt that way about anyone." She sighed. "I want—no, I need friends…I’ve been alone too long."

"We are your friends, darlin." Logan spoke quietly, his eyes troubled.

Anne studied him, her gaze piercing.

"I want to believe that, Logan." she said, her voice unexpectedly soft. "But you’ve got to understand that I take friendship seriously. I’d do anything for someone I called a friend. Anything. But that means you have to care as much as I do, and if you trust me so little that you have to use word games to be sure of my motives, then you might as well let me off at the next town."

Gambit held his breath. This was something only Logan could fix.

Logan watched her somberly.

"I’m truly sorry, darlin’. This ol’canucklehead sometimes forgets what it’s like ta’ be on the receiving end o’ my mouth." He shook his head. "I take friendship as seriously as you do, Annie. I’ve just been burned so many times that its become part o’ my nature ta question everyone. Even the people I care most about."

Anne’s eyes softened.

"I’m sorry too, Logan. We’ve known each other such a short time that you have every right to want to test me. It’s just that here I am, miles from home with two men I met only yesterday. If I’m ultra-sensitive it’s because I want to make sure I made the right decision to leave with the two of you. That you genuinely are my friends and this isn’t some game for you."

"Chere," Gambit ventured quietly. "Gambit and Logan don’ make friends easily. Dere’s too much ‘bout us dat keeps people away. But dere’s something different ‘bout you dat’s not like de o’ders. Gambit speak from de heart when he says dat he wants to be your friend. Gambit hopes you feel de same."

"I do." She answered softly, a rueful smile pulling at her lips.

"Darlin, I swear that if this old canucklehead ever hurts ya’ again, ya’ have my permission ta beat the crap outta me."

The tension broke when she chuckled.

"Who are you kidding? You’re built like a tank. I’d probably break my wrist if I tried to knock a few teeth loose."

Logan snorted.

"It’s the thought that counts, darlin’."

"You guys are terrible." Anne laughed affectionately, shaking her head.

"You still mad at us, chere?"

"Nah. I almost feel embarrassed for making such a big deal out of it."

"Don’t be, darlin’. Ya’ had every right ta’ bawl me out. I was testin’ ya’."

"So," she began after a long moment. "Is anyone going to object to you bringing me to your home?"

"Prob’ly, chere." Gambit answered truthfully. "Fact is, Gambit don’t give a damn. Like Gambit said, we three a trio, and no one’s goin’ to break dat up."

"Amen to that, Cajun."

Anne smiled at them, a trace of wonderment in her eyes.

"Well, what are you waiting for boys? Let’s get this show on the road."

"Yes, sir." Logan chuckled, revving the engine of the jeep and pulling back onto the interstate.

They drove for another two hours before they were forced to stop for gas. Logan found a truck stop perched on the edge of a thick tree line, the green of the forest contrasting with the dirty cement and old neon lights of the station.

"You two hungry?" Anne asked, her eyes roving over the small, dilapidated restaurant attached to the station.

"Chere, Gambit wouldn’t eat in a place like dat if you paid him. ‘Sides, there must be betta’ places down da road, huh Logan?"

"Sorry, Cajun. The next food stop is gonna be two hours from here."

"Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving. If you don’t want to stop, I can run in and get us some food for the road."

"Sounds good ta me, darlin’. Just get me somethin’ with a lot o’ meat in it."

Gambit delivered a long suffering sigh. Anne grinned and patted him on the shoulder. "Why don’t I surprise you, Remy."

"Yeah chere…but be kind to dis poor body, ‘kay?"

"Whatever." She quipped mischievously, and climbed out of the jeep.

Gambit watched her enter the restaurant, and he shook his head.

"Dat’s some woman."

Logan followed his gaze, and nodded silently.

A smoky haze filled the interior of the gas station’s small restaurant, and Anne’s ears were assaulted by the sounds of pots banging and loud, rough voices. She narrowed her eyes reflexively as she glanced over the diners. There were ten of them, all men, seated at various booths that hugged dark paneled walls. Most of them looked up as she entered, and Anne ignored their appraising gazes as she headed for the counter next to the door.

No waitress came to greet her, so Anne plucked a menu from a shelf by the cash register and began to flip through it. There wasn’t much to choose from, and she sighed as her stomach rumbled furiously.

Sorry, Remy. she thought weakly, picking something for him.

"Can Ah help ya, miss?"

Anne looked up to find a skinny middle aged woman looking at her. Her face was hard, her eyes like grainy pebbles. Blond hair had been pulled back into a tight pony tail that stretched the skin of her eyes.

"I’d like to order something to go."

The waitress jotted down the order and told her in a clipped and unfriendly voice that it would be around ten minutes. Anne leaned back against the counter, her warning bells beginning to jingle. She contemplated probing the diners, but rejected the idea. She had not intruded on anyone’s mind for eleven years, and the habit was hard to break. Especially when she had inadvertently nullified a man’s personality, the last time she had entered someone’s mind. Better to interact with trees instead of people, she had decided then and there. At least they could not be hurt by her carelessness.

Anne glanced out the tinted windows of the diner. The hood of the jeep was up and Logan and Gambit were hovering over the engine, their faces hidden from her sight. She felt the ghost of a smile on her lips as she watched the two of them. Cary Grants they were not, but those two had a charm all their own that she found irresistible.

She couldn’t remember when she had last felt so comfortable around anyone. It surprised her, considering how short a time she had known them.

Getting me out of that trap definitely made a good impression, she thought wryly. But there was more to it than that. She just couldn’t put her finger on it yet.

She was abruptly pulled from her thoughts as the overwhelming scent of cigarettes and grease filled her nose. One of the men she had noticed earlier was leaning on the counter beside her, his eye boring into her face. Anne met his gaze squarely, taking measure of his considerable height and girth. His face was tanned and rough, thinning brown hair combed down over his ears. Greasy lips pulled back into what Anne thought he considered a charming smile.

"Yes?" she asked expectantly, her eyes narrowing as his smile grew. There was something in his eyes that made Anne distinctly uneasy—a hunger that she recognized and was repulsed by.

"Me and my friends were wondering if you’d like to join us for lunch." he gestured with his head towards the table behind him. The three men seated at the booth grinned at her, but Anne did not return the smile.

"I’m afraid not," she replied, her voice empty of emotion. His eyes hardened.

"You sure? I think you might enjoy yourself." He placed a firm hand around her left arm, squeezing just enough to show her how strong he was.

"Remove your hand," she ordered softly.

He chuckled, turning his head to look at his friends who were watching the spectacle with undisguised enjoyment.

The man’s fingers tightened around Anne’s slender arm as he swung back to look at her.

He’s not going to let go without a fight, is he. Well, I can give him that much.

Her arm a blur of motion, she slammed the heel of her right palm into his nose, driving her shoulder behind the blow. Blood spurted from the collapsed structure of cartilage and bone, and Anne danced away as he released her from his grip. The man clutched at the remains of his nose, his eyes filled with rage and pain.

"Damb funkin bith!"

Anne clucked her tongue at him mockingly. His eyes widened with fury, and suddenly she found herself facing not only him, but his friends and several other diners. She probed gently beyond her shields and found that there were two men behind her, blocking the door. The faces staring at her were hard and unforgiving. Their hands clenched into fists.

One of her father’s lessons came to mind. "Sweetie, you’re a slip of a girl, and you’ll only be a shade bigger when you’re a woman. People will underestimate you ‘cause your tiny. Won’t be expecting an attack. So give ‘em hell like a wildcat and I promise sweetie, by the time they figured out what happened, you’ll have their heads as a drum set."

Of course, daddy never thought I’d be taking on nearly ten men at a time.

She quickly realized that the area was too small and there were too many angry people for her to come out unscathed. Her best chance was to get out into the open where she could move more freely…not to mention where she could get some back up.

Anne whirled, launching herself at the closest man to the door. His blue eyes widened with surprise, and he doubled over with a sharp cry as she struck a fist into his groin. Anne dodged a cuff to her face from his companion, driving her knuckles into his kidney and then into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

Anne leapt for the door, only to have heavily muscled arms wrap around her waist from behind.

"Gotcha now." The scent of cigarettes filled her nose.

Anne found his hands and wrapped her tiny fingers around his pinky. She yanked it away from her waist with a sharp grunt, feeling and hearing the crunch of bone as she twisted his finger from its socket.

"Agrghhhh!" he screamed, dropping her immediately. Anne landed lightly on her feet, making a wild dash for the door. Just as she reached the exit, the door slammed open and she was nearly clobbered as Logan and Gambit careened into the restaurant.

Logan barely paused to change directions before barreling into the crowd of men that were surging forward after Anne. Gambit glanced at her quickly to assure himself that she was all right before following his friend into the fight.

"What the hell." Anne muttered darkly, following them back into the fray. One man, T-shirt punched with holes, was attempting to sneak up behind Gambit while the Cajun was busy fending off two assailants. She shot her foot out towards the back of his knee, forcing his leg to collapse. As sharp cry of surprise escaped from his throat, and Anne clubbed him at the back of his head with her fists. He fell into a heap.

Anne looked up to find Gambit staring at her in pleased shock, but her eyes moved past his face as she caught sight of someone lifting a chair to swing at Logan. She watched in amazement as claws shot out of his arms. With a few wild swipes, the chair fell into pieces. She had seen Logan in action on news broadcasts, but it could not compare to real life.

Under less than a minute, most of her attackers lay on the ground, groaning in pain or unconscious. Anne, Logan and Gambit stood side by side, staring out over the remains of the restaurant. Tables were torn over, upholstery ripped open. Shattered glass littered the floors as did food. There was even a fair amount of blood staining the linoleum. Anne looked around for the waitress, but didn’t see her.

"You know, you guys aren’t bad in a fight." Her voice echoed in the relative silence of the restaurant.

Logan and Gambit looked at her in surprise. Gambit snorted.

"You ain’t so bad either, chere. Heard some yells from de rest’raunt and thought you were in trouble."

"But it looks like ya’ did some cleanin’ up ‘fore we even came in, darlin."

"My daddy was a Marine. After my mutant powers began to emerge, he started training me to defend myself. It’s become second nature."

Anne frowned, eyes scanning the restaurant.

"Um, maybe we should talk about this after we get out of here. There was a waitress around, but I don’t see her and she might have called the police."

Logan grunted. "There’s no sense in hangin’ around ta’ find out."

The three of them filed out of the restaurant and into the jeep. The car’s tires squealed as Logan revved the vehicle from the gas station and back onto the interstate.

"Dammit." Anne muttered after they had driven for about ten minutes.

"What?" the two men asked in concern.

"I’m still hungry."

They were less than five miles away from the Mansion when Anne finally began to express her doubts about the wisdom of bringing her unannounced to the home and headquarters of the X-Men.

"So, are you sure that this Professor Xavier won’t mind that you invited a complete stranger to the Mansion?"

"You ain’t a stranger, Annie."

"You know what I mean, Logan."

"An’ I’m tellin’ ya’ that I don’t care!" He looked at her through his rear-view mirror, his face lost in evening shadows. They had driven for the entire day, and the sun had set less than an hour earlier.

"Darlin, why are ya’ so nervous all o’ the sudden?"

"I’m not nervous!" she protested vehemently.

"You are, darlin." He tapped his nose. "I can smell ya’."

Anne grimaced and gave him a dirty look. He ignored her and continued.

"What I can’t understand is why. Ya’ got stuck in a bear trap for a couple o’ days, left your home with two strange men, got involved in a brawl, and in all that time ya’ never even broke into a sweat. But somethin’ little like this has ya’ tied up in knots."

He stared at her expectantly. Finally, Anne sighed and shook her head in resignation.

"All right, all right. I’ll tell you what’s bothering me. The only reason I can even conceive of living with the X-Men is because of the two of you. But it eats me up on the inside that I don’t have anything to offer in return for my stay. My mutant powers aren’t terribly practical, and Professor Xavier is filthy rich so offering to pay ‘rent’ is laughable at best. I keep trying to think of jobs that the X-Men would need done, but I can’t think of anything that you people wouldn’t already have covered."

"Ya’ don’t want charity, right darlin’?"

"Exactly. But that’s how it looks to me from every angle. I can find a job in any town I go to. I have qualifications up to my eyeballs. But as far as being useful to the X-Men…that’s an entirely different story."

"Qualifications, chere?"

Anne shrugged.

"I got my degree at MIT. That school may have had about as much personality as a cement block, but when I wave the name around, it gets me into places that would have slammed the door in my face without it."

She saw the look on his face, and smiled wryly. "Surprised, Remy?"

"Nah," he answered easily. "Gambit knows you’re smart."

She snorted.

"Trust me, graduating from MIT had very little to do with being smart. I’m just good at memorizing. But that’s beside the point. We were talking about my usefulness, or lack of, to the X-Men. Let’s face it, talking to trees is not going to help mankind learn to tolerate mutants."

"It’s not just about having a lot of power, darlin’. It’s what ya’ do with it that counts." Logan grimaced at his own words. "Can’t believe I’m givin’ pep talks." He muttered.

"Ooo, how the mighty have fallen." Anne mocked, a grin pulling at her lips.

Gambit snorted at the brief mixture of surprise and humor that flitted across Logan’s face. There weren’t many people who could talk to him like that and walk away without missing a limb.

"Chere, when you talk to de trees, does it matter where you are?"

Anne acted surprised by Gambit’s question and she frowned thoughtfully.

"No, not really. I remember when I was twelve, my family took a trip through Death Valley. No trees there, but I was still able to…make contact…despite the distance between me and the nearest forest. Sometimes, I think I can even hear the trees in places as far off as Japan, but since I’ve never seen or touched a Japanese tree, I’m not sure if I’m really hearing them. But that’s what my gut tells me."

"Chere, you mean to tell Gambit dat trees talk different?"

"Sure. I mean, every culture has their own language. Why not different species of trees? There’s a common thread of thought for all trees, depending on their location, but really, every one is unique." Anne’s face was all seriousness.

"Darlin’, are ya’ sure it’s trees you’re hearing? Could ya’ be picking up human thoughts?"

"Definitely not." Anne stated firmly. "The two are completely different."

"So ya’ can hear both?" Logan pressed.

Anne hesitated before answering, her silence not lost on the two men.

"Yes, but I don’t use my telepathy on human minds any more. I haven’t for eleven years, at least."

"What happened, darlin?"

"An accident." She replied shortly. "I—I was fifteen. I had a habit of randomly probing people I thought looked interesting. My parents didn’t know, of course. They would have thought it was awful of me, observing other people’s thoughts. Looking back on it now, I know that it was a horrible thing to do, but when I was fifteen I didn’t think anything of it.

"One day I was in the store with my mom, and I saw this incredibly handsome man. Blond, blue eyes…he was perfect. I just had to know what he was thinking…I think—I think I also wanted to see if he had noticed me, because I was standing near him."

Anne shuddered, carefully taking a deep breath. "His was the most heinous, perverted, twisted mind I had ever touched," she spat out. "And I was so—so shocked, so frightened by the images I had seen, that I lashed out. I completely wiped away his personality with just a thought." Her voice was haunted. "I remember—I remember that he collapsed on the ground, just twitching, eyes rolled up in his head. Everyone thought he was having a seizure, but I knew better."

"Darlin’?" Logan pulled the jeep over to the side of the road and cut the engine. Both men twisted in their seats to look at Anne, whose head was bowed.

Logan reached out and placed his callused fingertips beneath her chin. He gently lifted her head until she was staring in his eyes.

"Ya’ don’t have ta’ feel guilty fer what ya’ did." he spoke gently. "If he was as terrible as ya’ say, then the world is a better place without him."

"I’ve told myself that, Logan. But it doesn’t make what I did right. I shouldn’t have been in his mind in the first place."

"So, you gave it all up, chere?"

"Yeah. Seemed the safest thing to do."

"Ya’ know, Professor Xavier and Jeannie are telepaths. If ya’ want, I know they’d be happy ta’ help ya’ control your powers."

Anne smiled sadly. "Having control over my telepathy isn’t an issue anymore. It’s the fear of what I can do with it that keeps me on a leash."

"Takes time, chere. Don’ worry though. Gambit and Logan help you any way poss’ble."

"You know darlin, the Professor was just talkin’ the other day about how he wished the X-Men had more telepaths. If you’re as strong as I think ya’ might be, ya wouldn’t need ta worry ‘bout earnin’ your keep. Not that ya’ ever needed ta’."

Anne nodded slowly, her eyes lost in shadow.

"It’ll take some time to get used to the idea of employing my powers like that again. Compared to everything that I’ve gone through in just the past two days, you would think that it would be a snap. But I’ve never been more scared in my life."

"Sometimes darlin’, the smallest jobs in life are the hardest ta’ do."

She nodded, lifting her eyes to study their faces.

"I’m lucky to have friends like you."

Logan cleared his throat gruffly, while Gambit grinned.

"Gambit and Logan feel de same ‘bout you, chere. Feel de exact same."

Logan parked the jeep in front of the Mansion, and the three piled out of the vehicle, Anne lugging her duffel over her shoulder. Gambit wordlessly took it from her, Anne smiling with appreciation.

The two men could not help but notice how Anne’s shroud of quiet dignity once again masked her face and body. Despite the nervousness they both knew she felt, she hid it like a master, carrying herself confidently up the front steps.

Jubilee met the small group at the door, the heavy oak entrance whipping open to reveal her ecstatic face. She immediately launched herself at Logan without a glance to anyone else.

"Wolvie!" she cried, amidst a tangle of limbs and clothing.

He hugged her back, and then gently set her on the ground, trying unsuccessfully to peel her limbs from his body.

"Why aren’t you in school?" He asked gruffly.

She shrugged, an effortless gesture that made her seem that much younger.

"Frostie and Mr. Cassidy thought it would be a good experience for Gen-X ta’ work with the X-men for a week. I think they’re hoping you guys will be good role models an’ rub off on us." Jubilee smirked, which gave her opinion about the likelihood of that happening. She turned to Anne, who stood just between and behind Logan and Gambit.

"Who’s this?" she asked, smacking some gum around her mouth.

Before the two could answer, Anne gave her a sparkling grin and held out her hand.

"I’m Anne. These two galoots lugged me out of the mountains to see if I can make something of myself." Her grin widened, and she rolled her eyes.

Jubliee giggled, taking an instant liking to her. She took her hand, and dragged her into the house. "Come on, Anne. I need to introduce ya’ to the others!" Anne threw a startled glance back at Gambit and Logan before Jubilee yanked her into the bowels of the Mansion.

"I don’t know about you, mon ami, but Gambit not saving her dis time."

"You’re cruel, Gumbo."

"Oui."

They left Anne’s things in the main hall, and split up. Gambit went to see the Professor, while Logan took it upon himself to hunt down Anne. He caught her scent, the fresh mingling of rain and earth, and followed it. Smelling her was like being in the forest again, and he felt his heart tug as he heard her voice.

He found her in the kitchen, surrounded by Jean, Jubilee, and Rogue. Anne still wore her shroud of quiet dignity, and Logan could tell that it was having its effect on the other women. It might be awhile before they would see the more expressive side of Anne, though Jubilee had been privy to a glimpse of it. He noticed Jean staring at Anne with a look of confusion on her face, the red head’s eyes slightly unfocused.

Anne seemed to sense his presence, and she glanced behind her. She smiled wryly, her eyes twinkling mischievously. Logan almost breathed a sigh of relief. That was the real Anne, not the stiff, dignified woman who she was emanating.

He was about to say something, when Emma Frost walked into the kitchen. She breezed by his body, not touching, but close enough for her perfume to linger in his sensitive nose. He hated that.

Anne had already turned her head back towards the others, and did not see Emma arrive. Yet she abruptly rose to her feet and turned around to stare at the blonde woman, who had stopped behind her chair. Emma’s eyes narrowed, and Anne raised one dark brow, her expression clearly saying "Don’t mess with me".

Jean worriedly watched the two women, Jubilee’s eyes darting between her head mistress and Anne. At one point, Jean blanched as though she had heard something very distasteful. Emma’s eyes widened in outrage, and Anne sweetly smiled, though her face was pale. Logan remembered her fears concerning the use of her telepathy, but it did not seem to be stopping her from taking up for herself.

Good girl, Logan thought smugly. Give her hell.

Anne frowned, her eyes flashing with a mixture of fear and outrage.

"Emma, no!" Jean gasped. Logan immediately began to move towards the White Queen, when the blonde flung a hand up to her head. Her knees buckled and if Anne had not reached out to catch her, she would have collapsed to the floor. Anne hurriedly gave Emma her seat, and stepped back as the woman held her head and groaned miserably.

"Sugah, what did you do to her?" Rogue asked, eyes big. None of them had ever seen Emma on the receiving end of a punch. And have it connect. Jubilee’s looked at Anne with an expression of grudging respect.

"I—I gave her a taste of her own medicine." Anne stated simply, her face white. "She was going to try to—" she fumbled for the words. "—stab my mind?" she looked to Jean for confirmation and the red head nodded weakly.

Anne took a deep breath, and Logan could see the tumult of emotions in her eyes. "She wouldn’t have been able to hurt me…but I can only take so much bullying in one day."

"Serves her right, if you ask me," Logan growled, laying a reassuring hand on Anne’s shoulder. Anne looked at him gratefully. He could feel weak tremors running through her body, and the faint scent of anxiety drifted to his nose.

"Perhaps, though I do not usually condone fighting amongst my students and colleagues." The stern voice caused everyone to jump, including Emma, though the woman stayed seated, one hand pressed to her temple. The Professor, seated in his hover craft, floated in the doorway of the kitchen with his usual regal and imperious pose. Gambit leaned against the door frame beside him, idly shuffling his cards while his eyes flickered over the people before him. On his other side stood Scott, mouth set in a stern line.

Anne straightened, and Logan removed his hand. Any signs of weakness that he had been able to detect, disappeared as her face hardened. She carefully looked Xavier straight in the eye.

"If you don’t condone fighting, then request better manners of your students and colleagues. This woman forcibly attempted to break past my shields, and she attacked me without any real provocation. If I had wanted to be bullied by people who thought they were better than me, I would have remained in my home and not come here."

"How dare you speak to the Professor in that way!" Scott burst out. "If you’re going to stay—"

She interrupted him with a sharp wave of her hand. Amazingly enough, Scott shut his mouth.

"I am here because Gambit and Logan asked me to come. But I don’t need you, and I certainly will not allow myself to be pushed around."

The silence in the room was deafening as eyes widened in shock and mouths dropped open in amazement. A grin twitched at the corner of Gambit’s mouth, while Logan felt his face split.

"Score one for Anne." Jubilee muttered, finally breaking the silence. She ducked her head as several people, including the Professor, glared at her.

Emma’s moan broke the remaining tension. She still clutched at her head, eyes squeezed shut.

"Oh, stop that." Anne muttered in irritation. "I didn’t hit you half as hard as you were planning to hit me." Without hesitation, she lay her fingertips lightly on Emma’s temples. Immediately, the blonde woman relaxed, and her whimpers ceased.

Two spots of color danced on Emma’s cheeks as she struggled to recover the remaining shreds of her dignity.

"Your shields…they are quite impressive."

"Really? I wouldn’t know, though they seemed to work against you."

Emma stiffened, and everyone held their breath. The White Queen turned in her chair to look at Xavier, her eyes frigid.

"You should probe her yourself, Charles. Her defenses are…unique."

He focused his gaze on Anne. "May I?" His voice was cold, a tone that would have had most of the X-Men worried. Instead, a wry grin tugged at Anne’s lips, and she inclined her head. Logan and Gambit glanced at each other. This was not how they had planned on introducing her to the X-Men, but she was holding her own with the best of them.

The Professor’s eyes unfocused for a long moment, and his face flushed.

"Incredible!" he gasped. "The layering you’ve managed…it would cause most telepaths to exhaust themselves within a few moments, but you maintain it seemingly without effort!"

"Momma always said I was special." Anne murmured humorously, just loud enough for Logan to hear.

Jean gasped as well. "I can see it now!" she exclaimed. "How do you do it?"

Anne frowned, staring at her. "I’m anchored well, that’s all. I can’t explain it. I just shield myself the way trees do."

That caused jaws to drop once again, but before any one else could launch more questions, Gambit interrupted. "Gambit t’ink Anne been questioned enough. She needs sleep."

"And some grub." Logan growled.

"Agreed," the Professor nodded, raising his hand to silence Scott, whose mouth had begun to open in protest. "We still have the matter of this altercation to discuss, but we can continue it in the morning. Good night, Anne." His tone was still cold, but everyone could hear the respect in his voice.

"Good night."

Scott and Xavier left the kitchen, Jean and Emma following them. Emma refused to look at Anne, her back as rigid as a board as she left.

Rogue whistled. "Sugah, do you know what you just did?"

A tired smile tugged at Anne’s lips. "Just took up for myself, that’s all."

"You all right, chere?" Gambit asked, eyes concerned. Logan studied her carefully. For eleven years she had been afraid to use her telepathy on other humans, and then in one night she was forced to converse, protect and fight, using only her mind.

Despite everything that’s happened to her over the past two days, she hasn’t complained once. She’s as tough as nails. Logan observed silently, feeling admiration well up in his chest.

"I’m fine, Remy. Just wasn’t expecting to face all my fears tonight."

Rogue and Jubilee looked at her in confusion. Jubilee opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when Logan threw her a warning glance.

Logan cleared his throat gruffly. "How ‘bout we get some grub."

Over reheated lasagna and salad, the group sat at the table and chattered away. Slowly, Anne began to lose her protective shroud, though it was apparent to both Gambit and Logan that she was not entirely relaxed in her settings. Her first encounter with the X-Men had unsettled her.

"Wow, so you like, commune with Nature and stuff like that, right?" Jubilee’s voice pierced through the idle talk, and all eyes focused on Anne.

Anne scratched her head. "I suppose you could say that."

Jubilee stared out the window, a dreamy look on her face. "I wish I could do that."

"I’m sure you could. You just have to listen properly."

"Will you teach me?"

Anne looked embarrassed and uncertain, but she nodded. "I can try."

"Cool! Wait until I tell the others!" With that last outburst, Jubilee sprang up from the table and scurried out of the kitchen.

"Did I just commit myself to something terrible and frustrating?" Anne asked in a weak voice, as the last echo of the teen’s voice faded from the air.

Logan shrugged, gulping down some beer. "You dig your own grave, darlin’."

"Thanks a lot…wolf-meister, was it?" Anne looked at him innocently enough, but her lips twitched suspiciously.

"Darlin’, if you know what’s good for ya’, ya’ won’t call me that."

"Oh, but it’s sooo cute." Anne cooed.

Gambit choked on his beer.

Rogue’s peal of laughter rebounded against the walls and she reached over the table to take Anne’s hand in a firm grasp. "Anne, Ah never met a woman as gusty as you. Ah think we’re gonna be great friends."

"I’d like that, Rogue." Anne grinned.

"Well, Ah bet you’re near tuckered out. Why don’t Ah show you your room, an’ we’ll unpack your things."

"Unpack?" Anne asked incredulously. "After what happened tonight? I’ll probably be booted out first thing tomorrow morning."

"Not if I have anythin’ ta say about it." Logan growled fiercely.

"Chere, you’re not goin’ anywhere."

Anne looked at them helplessly, finally throwing her hands up in the air.

"Fine! I put myself into your capable hands." She turned to Rogue, who was watching the interplay between the trio with a twinkle in her eye. "Well, let’s go see that room. Maybe you can tell me some stories about these guys while I unpack. Preferably ones that are embarrassing."

"That’ll take all night, sugah." She winked as the two women stood. "But Ah sure can try."

"See ya’ later, boys." Anne said cheerfully, risking life and limb to ruffle Logan’s hair. She lithely danced away from him as he growled, and the laughter of the two women carried back to the kitchen for a long time after they left.

Gambit groaned, and hid his head in his arms. "Gambit t’ink we created a monster."

"I’d have to agree with you, Gumbo." Still, Logan was glad that she was beginning to relax.

"Hey Cajun. Think we should go talk ta’ the Professor?"

Gambit shrugged. "Gambit told him how you found Anne, but no’ting much else." The faint shadow of worry entered his eyes. "You t’ink de Professor might ask Anne t’leave?"

"If he does, Annie won’t be leavin’ alone." Logan growled.

"You’d leave de X-Men for her?" Gambit’s eyes narrowed curiously.

Logan fingered the neck of his beer bottle, lost in thought.

"Yeah," he answered after a long moment of silence. "The X-Men have given me a lot…helped me control the beast, given me purpose ta’ my life ‘sides the killin. But I don’t really belong here—never have. When I’m with Annie though, I feel different. Like I don’t need ta’ hide who I am, like…like…damn." He muttered darkly.

"I can’t explain it, Cajun." He took a long swallow of his beer, and studied Gambit.

"What about ya’, Cajun? Would ya’ leave the X-Men for Annie?"

"Don’t know, mon ami. Never had a woman like Anne for a best friend be’foe. She acts like one o’ de guys, like she’s known Gambit for years…Gambit don’t need to put on a show t’impress her and dat’s a nice feelin’.

"Yeah, Gambit feel de same as you, Logan. Near rip Gambit’s heart out t’leave, but for Anne, Gambit just might."

"Don’t let Rogue hear ya’ say that, Gumbo." Logan chuckled over his beer.

Gambit sighed. "Gambit don’t love Anne like Gambit loves Rogue. Anne more like a sister."

"But you’d still leave for her."

"Don’ forget de old sayin’, mon ami. Blood is thicker den water. Anne like de sister Gambit never had, and dat means somethin’ important to dis Cajun."

Logan nodded, and pushed his chair back from the table.

"Don’ know ‘bout you, Gumbo, but I’m goin’ ta’ grab some shut-eye."

"Gambit and Logan not goin’ to talk to de Professor?"

"Nah. Now that we’ve got our priorities straight concernin’ Annie, I don’ see much reason ta’ talk ta’ him. ‘Sides, ya’ think he’d get rid of the one person ta’ ever square off with Emma Frost, and beat her in under two seconds flat without even tryin’?"

Gambit chuckled, and reached into his pocket for a cigarette.

"Gambit t’ink Anne here to stay."

Professor Xavier opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. Moonlight spilled through his open window, a faint breeze stirring his drapes.

Carefully, he reconstructed the conversation he had overhead between Logan and Gambit. Recalling their exact words and the depth of emotion behind them, he could not help but be filled with surprise. The black sheep of the X-Men, he had never been able to truly draw them into the team, to make them trust anyone but themselves. How, in under two days, had this woman—Anne—earned the respect and devotion of Logan and Gambit?

He recalled his unexpected encounter with Anne. How he had entered the kitchen to find her standing over Emma, the White Queen holding her head in obvious pain. His first reaction had been shock, which was quickly overcome by a need to gain control of the situation. He just had not anticipated Anne’s forceful response. Nor had he predicted the uniqueness of her shields.

Experimentally, Xavier probed the Mansion for Anne’s presence. Nothing. There was no indication that she was anywhere within a ten mile radius. He sighed, perplexed. He had been drawn to the kitchen by the mental turbulence he felt emanating from that part of the house. But he had only sensed five people, and was shocked to see he had been wrong.

If she can hide her existence from a telepath of my strength, and turn Emma Frost’s attack back on herself, what else is she capable of? And her shields—I had to pull the words from her mouth, but even Emma admitted that she had never seen anything like them in her life.

Foolish Emma. Attacking a stranger for no real good reason.

He agreed with Logan—the woman deserved it. She was still however, one of the most powerful telepaths in the world, and a good head mistress. Besides, he was quite certain that the White Queen had learned her lesson. At least for the time being.

You needn’t worry, my X-Men. I will not ask Anne to leave. Her mutant powers and her friendship with the two of you is a puzzle that I cannot afford to ignore.

It turned out that Anne’s fears about training Jubilee in the art of ‘forest talk’ were unfounded. Emma left with her students early the next morning, the teenagers protesting at the top of their lungs. Especially Jubilee.

Anne entered the kitchen while the morning was still dark. Logan and Storm were seated at the table, while Jean bustled around the stove.

"Did I hear shrieking not long ago?"

Jean nodded, dividing her attention between Anne and a pan of heating oil. "Emma took her students home this morning, and there were some…protests."

"Jubilee didn’t want to go." Logan added. His hair was rumpled and his flannel shirt looked like he had slept in it. Anne turned her attention to the black woman across from him. Her perfect, dusky features were composed regally beneath an artfully wild mane of white hair.

"You must be Storm." Anne greeted her.

She smiled back. "And you are Anne? I heard you created quite a stir last night."

Anne laughed, though Logan could hear the strain in her voice. "I’m here for only one night, and I already have a reputation. That must be a record."

"Hardly." Jean snorted. "Yours was probably one of the more civilized introductions to the X-Men. Usually there are more explosions and screaming. Besides, what happened last night was not entirely your fault. Emma, to put it bluntly—"

"Is an egomaniacal bitch." Logan growled, and then buried his face in his coffee.

"Thank you, Logan." Jean stared at him sternly, before turning back to the oven.

"Do you need any help cooking?" Anne walked over to Jean.

She shook her head. "I think I’ve got it under control, but if you want to make something for yourself, feel free."

"You don’t mind?" Anne asked, a gleam entering her eyes.

"Not at all."

Jean showed her where they kept all of their pans, and before long Anne was making herself at home, much to Logan’s secret satisfaction.

She diced up several bunches of green onions, adding them to a mixing bowl of flour, water and eggs. She grabbed a gigantic frying pan from the cupboard and filled it until the bottom was completely covered in cooking oil.

Anne proceeded to dip the batter, the hot oil sizzling and popping as she spread the mixture out into thin pancakes. A heavenly aroma arose from where she was working, and several bodies were drawn into the kitchen from the rest of the house.

"I love the smell of grease in the morning." Bobby quipped, jauntily walking into the kitchen.

"Indeed," Beast agreed, following in his footsteps. "The scent does stimulate one’s hunger."

"Thank Anne." Jean laughed. "I’m about to forget the omelet I’d planned, and copy whatever she’s making."

Beast and Bobby turned to scrutinize the petite stranger.

Anne smiled wryly beneath their gazes but did not introduce herself. She removed one of the pancakes and filled the pan with ever more oil. "Chinese pancakes are an old recipe of my dad’s. I can make enough for everyone."

Logan grunted. "You just found the way to their hearts, darlin’."

Anne threw him a quick grin, and then turned to Beast.

"Dr. Henry McCoy, I presume?"

Beast looked at her quizzically.

"Why, yes."

Anne smiled and stuck out her hand, which Beast took cordially enough, though he still looked puzzled.

"Anne O’Hanrahan. It’s an honor to finally meet you in person. I attended a lecture you gave at Harvard, around five years ago."

His eyes lit up. "Ah, I remember! My hypothesis that certain biochemical stimuli are capable of advancing mutations, even those that have been stable for years. I am delighted to meet someone who attended the lecture."

"It was fascinating. I was enrolled in the Medical School at the time, and you had my professors in an uproar, especially with your implication that it would one day be possible for mutants and non-mutants to essentially engineer themselves into whatever form they desired. Secretly, I think they were excited by the prospect, but you know Harvard…everyone condemns any idea not their own as a matter of habit."

Beast chuckled, his eyes sparkling.

"Indeed. I remember only too well. Tell me, is that where you earned your undergraduate degree?"

"Oh, no. I graduated from MIT with a BS in Geoscience."

"But you are a doctor?"

Anne shook her head, smiling ruefully. "I left after a year."

"Still, your credentials are impressive. Perhaps we could discuss my research at some later time." He sighed mournfully. "There is no one but myself with the necessary scientific background to fully understand the technicalities of my work. I often wish I could unburden myself on another."

Anne laughed with delight, but quickly sobered.

"I would love to, Dr. McCoy, but I don’t know how long I’ll be staying."

"Please, call me Hank. Now, why would you not stay with us? You are a mutant, I presume?"

"Yes, but I’m afraid I didn’t make the best of impressions last night when I met the Professor."

"Wouldn’t worry ‘bout that, darlin’." Logan called from the kitchen table. His eyes glinted smugly.

Anne narrowed her eyes, noticing the expression on his face.

"How can you be so sure, Logan?"

He shrugged. "Chuck’s a lot o’ things, but he ain’t vindictive. "Sides, there ain’t many mutants out there who can surprise him, an’ I think ya’ did that twice last night. First, when ya’ gave Frostie a taste o’ her own medicine, and second, when he got a look at yer shields."

Beast stared down at Anne. "You attacked the White Queen, and succeeded?"

"It was purely defensive, I can assure you. Nor is it something I want to repeat. I’m curious though, why everyone acts like defending myself against this Emma Frost, or whatever you call her, is such a big deal."

"She’s just one of the most powerful telepaths in the world." Bobby called, snatching up several of her pancakes.

"Hey!" Anne growled. Bobby paused guiltily, but relaxed when he saw the twinkle in her eyes.

"So, how did you wind up here, Anne?" Bobby changed subjects as he leaned back against a countertop, hungrily stuffing his face.

Anne looked at Logan. "Maybe you should tell the story."

Everyone glanced at each other, and then turned to stare at Logan.

He sighed.

Several hours later, The Professor called Anne to his study. He tried probing for her, but it was not until she entered the room that he could be assured she was coming to the meeting. Gambit and Logan came with her, hovering behind her back.

Xavier noted the comfortable way the three stood together, as though they had been friends for life. It served to reinforce the discussion he had overhead the previous night. He wondered if Anne realized the depth of their feelings for her.

"Anne, please sit down." The woman nodded, taking the proffered seat. The two men quickly found chairs by her and lounged comfortably, Gambit shuffling some cards.

"First of all," the Professor began, "I would like to apologize for what occurred last night. I spoke with Emma at great length, and she expressed her…regret that the incident took place." Xavier ignored the derisive snort from Logan, and continued. "Furthermore, I thought long and hard about the…conversation we both had.. You had every right to say what you did. You have incredible potential for one untrained, and I would be most pleased if you remained with the X-Men."

Anne narrowed her eyes. "What exactly will I do here if I decide to stay, Professor?"

Xavier blinked. Most mutants snatched up the chance to live with the X-Men, no questions asked. He studied the determined set of her jaw, the quick intelligence behind her dark eyes. No, he decided. Anne was not a woman to run blindly into any situation.

"You will be expected to train with the X-Men, and if you so choose, eventually join them."

"I see." She glanced at Logan and Gambit, who watched her quietly, expectantly.

"It’s your choice, darlin’. Just remember that we’ll stick with ya’ no matter what ya’ decide" Logan responded, Gambit nodding his agreement.

Anne swallowed heavily, and stared at the floor. After a long moment, she lifted her eyes and met Xavier’s gaze.

"I’ll stay," she spoke firmly.

"Excellent." Xavier clasped his hands together. "Now, if you don’t mind, I have a few questions for you. First of all, who trained you to construct your shields? I must confess, they have been a puzzlement to me from the start."

Anne smiled wryly. "Don’t you remember what I said about the trees?"

Xavier frowned, scanning his memories. "Yes." He responded slowly. "But I did not really think that you were serious."

"I’m very serious. Everything I learned about defending my mind, I learned from observing trees. That’s why my shields look so foreign to you, and that’s why Emma would not have been able to penetrate them. Let me ask you a question, Professor. Do you ever probe trees?"

"Of course not. There is nothing to probe."

"But there is. Do you sense me, Professor? If you closed your eyes and probed the room, would you know that I was sitting in front of you? Would you even be able to pick up the essence of my mind?"

"No," he said quietly. "It is as though you do not exist."

"Trees don’t think like us, but they are alive, and part of that life consists of a natural urge to shield. Their ability is a product of Nature, and she is very good at defending herself, physically and…mentally."

"But what you do requires a huge amount of energy, both of the mind and body."

Anne shrugged. "Like I said, I’m anchored well. A tree draws strength from the earth, doesn’t it? I do the same. Of course, I also have to eat a lot, but I usually don’t have any trouble maintaining myself." Anne pursed her lips, and leaned forward in her chair.

"Professor, I’ve been hearing voices since I was five years old. Luckily, my parents were good people, and accepted the fact that I was a mutant. They let me run in the woods, because that was where I could find the most peace. But I heard voices there too, except these were coming from the earth and the trees themselves. I touched them with my mind, and they responded to me. I don’t know why, but they did. I learned how to shield myself at all times of the day, no matter what I am doing. Following their example, I suppose. Though I have to admit that I didn’t learn much else."

The professor sat back, hands clasped. His eyes were lost in thought for a long moment. "Fascinating," he whispered finally. "A whole new world as of yet undiscovered. Can anyone communicate with this…presence?"

Anne frowned, and the three men could sense her discomfort.

"I suppose. Everyone is connected to the planet, and can ‘talk’ with it, can ‘commune’. But not everyone gets the same response." She frowned in consternation.

"That is quite all right, my dear. That is something we can discuss at a later time. Right now though, I would like to assess the strength of your mutant abilities. With your permission?"

"Please," she responded.

"Gambit and Logan, will you two please escort Anne to the Danger Room?"

"Danger Room?" Anne whispered as they left.

Anne absently tugged at the one piece suit of lycra that clung to her body. Logan noticed and casually looked her over. Gentle curves mixed pleasantly with long, lean lines, all accented by the tight work out uniform. The long treks in the forest had obviously done her good.

"Don’t worry, Anne. We’ll go easy on you since this is your first time." Bobby called, and disappeared into the Danger Room. Gambit, Rogue, Scott, and Jean were already waiting inside. Each held a position within the room and were waiting for Anne to enter to begin the program.

Logan snorted. Bobby had never seen Anne in a brawl.

He wondered briefly if the Professor had alerted the rest of the team to the strength of Anne’s telepathic ability. He and Gambit had been present an hour earlier as Beast and the Professor used instruments to test their friend inside the workout room. Logan didn’t bother himself with the details; all he knew was that the Professor had turned pale and Beast had begun to whisper, "Oh my stars and garters…".

Anne had merely looked at them, frowning.

"I take it I surprised you?"

She never did get a response to her question.

"Anne," the Professor’s voice crackled over the intercom. "The purpose of this exercise is to force you to use your powers creatively. All of the X-Men are well aware that you do not have previous fighting experience, so they will be careful not to use extreme force on you."

Logan could not help but notice the small smile that touched Anne’s lips at the Professor’s last comment.

"Try not ta’ hurt them too badly, darlin." Logan chuckled.

"You’ve all been doing this a lot longer than me," she snorted.

"Just do your best, Annie." Logan replied, and entered the Danger Room.

"Are you ready, Anne?" The Professor’s voice came on over the intercom.

"Go for it."

"Please enter."

Anne took a deep breath, and swung open the heavy steel door.

Anne found herself on an empty side walk at night, ramshackle buildings on every side. Shadows clung to walls and alleys, casting a dirty edge to the darkness around her. Dazzled by the illusion, Anne had to forcibly command herself to begin moving. She was supposed to have a two minute head start before anyone came looking for her, and she could not afford to waste a moment. If she could ambush someone, that would be one less X-Man to worry about.

Not for the first time, she wondered at the strange turn her life had taken. Who would have thought her world could change so quickly in just three days. The funny thing was, she did not regret any of it. Even this strange exercise that had her chasing some of the most notorious mutants in the world.

Anne caught a glimpse of white. There was the faint rustle of a foot scraping pavement, and then Bobby darted out in front of her, arms raised.

Anne fell to the ground and rolled as a flash of ice rushed over her head. Without stopping her forward motion, her mind fumbled for a weapon. The memory of her grandfather’s bull whip came to mind, and suddenly she felt her right hand crackling with energy. Instinctively, Anne lashed out towards Bobby’s feet. A blue-green whip of energy wrapped snugly around his legs and with a sharp jerk, Bobby fell flat on his back. Anne released her hold of the whip, but left it intact around the young man’s legs.

"Hey!" he shouted, wriggling his body and flailing his arms. Bobby tried to shoot a bolt of ice at Anne, but she easily dodged him and disappeared down a side street, leaving him behind. One down.

Less than a minute passed before Anne felt a mental probe slide uselessly across her shields. Jean was trying to find her by scanning wildly, but she was not going to have any luck if she depended on just her mind.

Anne crouched in the shadows cast by a dumpster, marveling at the illusion even as she gently traced the probe back to Jean. Anne remembered Emma’s attack of the night before, but she discarded it as too painful.

She could not bring herself to enter Jean’s mind, but she could not think of an alternative that would disable the woman’s telekinitic abilities.

I can do this. I just need to be careful. Come on, Anne…think.

Realizing she had to move fast before someone found her, Anne gave up on subtlety and instinctively wove a shield that she hoped would dampen Jean’s powers. Not far away, she heard an outraged cry.

Bingo.

A red beam of light abruptly cut into the stone just above her head, forcing Anne to jump away from her hiding place. Scott stood at the mouth of the alley, his visor glowing. Without a second thought, Anne launched herself at him.

Her fists slammed into his jaw and kidney, her feet kicking at his knees. Scott’s fist clipped her ear, but Anne was able to dodge the main force of the blow. Once again, she summoned the image of the whip, the coil of blue flame appearing in her hands. Before Scott could react, Anne disposed of him in the same way she had Bobby. He grunted in frustration as she quickly ran away from the scene.

Her heart pounded furiously and she forced herself to slow and take deep breaths. She hugged the shadows, her eyes scanning the seemingly deserted street around her. She tentatively reached beyond her shields, scanning for any approach.

She had the barest hint of a warning before Rogue, Gambit and Logan materialized out of nowhere, launching themselves at her. Anne managed to dodge Rogue’s reaching grasp, nearly falling into Gambit’s arms. Without missing a beat, she twisted away from the lanky Cajun, lashing out at his knee with her foot.

"Sorry," she muttered as it connected. She dimly heard the answering grunt of pain as she turned to find Logan facing her, his adamantiam claws emerging from the backs of his hands. His eyes were calculating, but not cold.

Anne sent out a brief probe and she ducked just in time to keep from being tackled by Rogue. Anne reached out blindly, pressed by her need to disable her. Her need impressed itself on the flying woman’s mind, and abruptly Rogue fell from the sky. Her scream of shock and fear ended as Gambit caught her.

"M’ah powers! They’re gone!"

Quickly, Anne inhibited Gambit and Logan in the same way, but that offered no respite as the two men, especially Logan, were not entirely dependent on their mutant abilities to aid them in battle. As Logan launched himself at her, Anne’s psi-whip materialized in her hand.

She flicked her wrist, the coil of blue flame lashing out at him. He dodged the strike to his feet, and Anne threw herself to her right as his body hurtled towards her. Much to her amazement, he managed to twist himself in mid-air to follow.

Anne, who had fallen on the ground when she avoided his first strike, kicked out with her foot as he came down on top of her. Her heel caught him square in the chest, and he grunted with surprise and pain. For an instant, their eyes met, and in that moment of distraction Logan pushed her leg aside and pinned her securely to the ground.

Straddling her stomach, he placed his claws on either side of her head.

"First lesson, darlin’." He said harshly. "Don’t ever make eye contact with an opponent in the middle of a fight." He leaned closer, his breath warm on her face.

"Second thing is, I know ya’ didn’t use all your weapons. Ya’ could have won this fight."

"I refuse to do that to you, Logan." Anne gritted her teeth angrily.

For just a second, his eyes softened.

"Not askin’ ya’ to, darlin. But there are other ways for telepaths ta’ disable the enemy."

"But you aren’t the enemy. You’re my best friend, Logan. I’ll fight you physically, but I refuse to strike out at your mind. I will not." she growled.

"I’ve been hurt by a lot worse." He whispered heavily.

"I know," she surprised him. "But I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself."

Without warning, the program ended, and the illusion of the city melted away. Not far from where she stood, Bobby and Scott still lay on the ground and Jean was clutching her head. Logan’s eyes revealed nothing of his feelings as he rose and helped Anne to her feet.

"You may release them now, Anne." The Professor’s voice echoed over the intercom.

The mutant inhibitors and restraints on Bobby and Scott disappeared immediately. Anne felt the weight of everyone’s gaze settle on her, and she forced herself to straighten.

Bobby, a wry grin on his face, stumbled up to Anne and stuck out his hand. A quizzical expression on her face, she took the proffered hand and shook.

"Congratulations, Anne. For a new recruit, you sure know h