3. Chapter 1
Since the day she was born, Cheryl Davis knew she loved the ocean. The beach was
her blanket and soul, the ocean her path and heart. She surfed from the age of 5, but
traveled the world since the day she could walk with her Big Uncle Danny. Her life was
fantastic as it was. But some things couldn't stay the same. She was thirteen years of age
when she got thrown into the coral reef of Australia. Her thigh was cut badly, the blood
poured out of the open wound, beginning to mix into the water. It was about shark season
out there and she knew she was too far away to swim back without causing too much
damage. The wound began to burn from the salt. She needed the wound to stop bleeding,
almost pleading in her mind, stop bleeding... stop bleeding…
The burn stopped as the gash clotted within seconds. The water had turned a
pinkish color so she swam back to shore. She was slightly lightheaded, thankful, but
freaked out. It was from that day that her brown hair held a strawberry hint and her eyes
turned burgundy…
Five Years Later…"Dude! Cheryl! Come catch some waves!" His shout could hardly
carry over the waves. Her eye twitched from frustration. She hated that word, "Dude".
The last time she checked, she was certain she was a girl. Cheryl couldn't quite remember
his name, just recognized his scent and decided that his blood was pretty good. It just
tasted like water. For five years now she's had to feed off of the blood of everyone else
around her. She tried animal blood, but found it was disgusting. So, she just drank the
blood surfers spilled when they got thrashed. It was a good deal. She stopped their
bleeding and took what was left in the water. The Camelback strapped onto her back was
filled with different types, all from her favorite people, well those that were tasty. From
behind her, the ocean roared to life as it drew back and gained height. She caught it and
flew. The sea flowing around her, nothing could have destroyed this moment. Except for
the very strong and present scent of blood, causing her to lose her footing and wipeout.
When she finally emerged, she swam back to shore, following the scent. It was one of the
buddy surfers, Johnny. He crashed into the rocks, and banged himself up pretty bad. He
was close to the shore when she came about.
"CALL AN AMBULENCE!" She swam to where he was, her special board, her baby,
following by the line attached to her ankle. He was bleeding profusely already and if he
moved anymore, he could permanently damage himself. But he can't stay in the water, she
thought. This would aggravate the wounds more. Some of the other buddy surfers went
over to see the commotion.
"We need to get him out of the water!" They looked a bit shaken from all that red stuff
coming out of him.
"But-"
"No buts!" They didn't move, but stared at the mangled guy in front of them.
"CALL THE FUCKING AMBULENCE ALREADY!" She tried as carefully as she could to
drag him onto her board. He wasn't totally unconscious, he grunted from the pain. Was
that a good thing? She started toward the shore and noticed that only a small piece of his
board was left dragging behind on his ankle. He's not going to be too happy about that, she
thought. The others were waiting on the shore.
"Help me get him out of the water! NOW!" They jumped to attention and rushed to
help. They tried their best to be gentle, but no one's perfect. Johnny was laid out on a
towel, cut up and banged beyond belief. She grabbed one of the towels near her and
pressed it to the main wound over his thigh.
"Hey, do crowd control or something." She stripped off the Camelback and opened
it. She put the tip of the towel at the opening and began filtering blood out, working up the
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4. red bone marrow to make more blood, and keep it circulating. Needless to say, she was
working as hard as she could. She kept this up until the ambulance finally arrived. The
EMTs came and removed her hand from him.
"We've got him now miss." She kept hold of the towel, soaked with blood. As they
wheeled Johnny into the ambulance, one of the EMT's, young but ragged, turned to her and
smiled.
"You probably saved his life, miss. You should probably get checked out yourself.
You're eyes are red." She smiled and shrugged.
"Oh I guess I forgot to take the contacts out. They're all the rage these days." He
smiled again and nodded his acknowledgement. Cheryl stayed planted in the sand until the
siren disappeared into the distance. The crowd of people diffused as she picked up her
camelback, her surf board, and the towel and headed for the showers. Inside the
bathroom, she looked at her now fire-engine-red irises.
"Oh Damn. I'm gonna be feeling this for a while." She looked down at the bloody
towel, her eyes glittering. She couldn't gorge here but a snack wouldn't hurt. Her hand
hovered over the blood. Slowly, it began to separate from the fibers into a nice good sized
blob. She pursed her lips to it and slurped it up. After it was gone, she checked her eyes
again. They were brick-red now, but still red. She headed to the lockers and got her
backpack. She retrieved her keys and sunglasses, for good measure. I don't think they
need to see these, she thought. She headed out from the surf, clean, worn out, and
hungry. After walking past paid parking lots and cars trying to find the closest spot, she
turned to the beach houses. A buddy of her late uncle's, who has never owned a car a day
in his life, let her park her beautiful Mellony. Mellony was her baby, her pride and joy, and
Cheryl would never dream of parking her near the beach. She smiled as she looked over
the beautiful jeep. The paint job was her eighteenth birthday present from her boss. It was
a perfect beach scene. The waves rolling up on the hood while the shore line came along
the sides to the sandy beach with a small landscape of the city in the background on the
trunk. Oh yes, she was a work of art.
Cheryl left the customary ten at his backdoor and left. Taking the quickest way she
could back home, she was wiped and drained. As usual, she parked on the side of the
house, not in front. Didn't want to upset the parental units. About to enter her senior year
of high school, almost top of her class and her parents don't even look her way. She
unlocked the door, and stepped in before slamming it behind her and sliding in the
deadbolt. Father was a workaholic and her mother worked on every committee she could
get her claws on. So of course they weren't home. The silence of the house disturbed her,
like it always did. Like waiting for the other shoe to drop, it just racked her nerves. She
walked down the hallway to the end, where her room was. There was an iron framed twinbed in the corner, a small desk under the window with a swivel chair neatly placed
underneath it. School textbooks lined her bookshelves along with the Classics of Literature.
Old clothes hung in the closet, never seen again and the walls were covered with surfing
memorabilia. She didn't mind any of it at the moment, as she dropped her pack and
crashed face first onto her bed, asleep before she even felt the pillow.
At the Institute for the Gifted Youth, Cheryl Davis's save did not go unnoticed.
Professor Xavier sat at Cerebro looking at the new mutant detected on the screen when
Storm came up behind him.
"Found a new one?" He nodded.
"Yes, she's already gained some control, as far as Cerebro can tell." She met his
eyes with a very common as of late question.
"But who will be going?" That night at dinner, Charles called the attention of the
table.
"Cerebro has just discovered a new mutant today. Her name is Cheryl Davis, just
around your age. Storm and I will be gone tomorrow to see her, so I'll put Hank in charge."
The table erupted with small cheer at the thought of another student coming. The dinner
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5. went on with the routine of every night, with the event of some dish being flung or broken,
Bobby trying to show off with the rest of the boys as well as irritating the girls. At the end
of the evening, Scott approached the Professor.
"Say, Professor, where exactly does she live?" Charles smiled as he exited to bed.
"Oh I forgot. Long Beach, California. Good night everyone." He heard the very
audible outrage of the students and smiled even broader. The next morning, Storm and the
Professor entered the hanger. The Blackbird was prepped and ready for takeoff. Storm
sighed before boarding.
"Is anything wrong, Storm?"
"No, but something tells me that this isn't going to be a normal trip." He smiled and
wheeled on. He took his place next to Storm at the controls and left without a hitch. They
were about a half an hour into the air when Charles turned to the back of the Blackbird.
"Alright Kurt, you can come out now, we're about to land." In a puff of smoke, Kurt
teleported next to him with a guilty expression.
"Sorry Professor. But I had to tag along. It's Long Beach! I've heard so much
about it and all..." Charles chuckled.
"Alright. Besides, we could use you as a demonstration. To show her that the
Institute is a place of acceptance." Storm started flipping switches and descending.
"We're here." The house was in the middle of cul-de-sac, a small house in suburbia. They
landed the Blackbird in a small park about a block away. Charles turned to Kurt before
leaving.
"Stay in here for now, Kurt. We'll be back shortly." He nodded reluctantly as they walked
down to the small house.
Cheryl was aware it was day, but didn't care. She was still wiped out from the day before.
Maybe I should drink something, she thought. She was about to grab hold of the
camelback when the doorbell rang. Who could be visiting at this hour? She heard her
mother's footsteps moving fast for the door. What if it was someone asking about
yesterday? She really didn‟t need her parents finding out about her abilities or any of the
activities she involved herself in. She disregarded the camelback and opened the bedroom
door. Down the hallway, she saw her mother standing in front of an elder looking man in a
wheelchair and a beautiful black woman.
"Hello, I am Professor Charles Xavier and this is my associate, Ororo Munroe. We've come
to speak with Cheryl Davis." Cheryl's eyes widened.
"Crap."
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6. Chapter 2
Three pairs of eyes turned to her. She tried to think as quickly as possible, slipping on a
pair of sunglasses and flip-flops. She walked out of the room with a jaunty smile playing on
her lips. I know shit is about to hit the fan, she thought. Mrs. Davis turned back to the pair
at her front door.
"What's she done now?" Her step faltered. Please don't tell her; please don't tell her, the
words running through her head at top speed. Charles narrowed his eyes in thought.
"We would just like to have a word with her, if you wouldn't mind." Mrs. Davis looked back
at her daughter then shrugged.
"Just keep it down, I have things that need to be done by tonight." She turned on her heel
and went into the study to work on more committee projects. Cheryl stood up straight and
let out a shaken laugh.
"Um alright, would anyone like anything to drink?" She walked past them to the family
room. Charles and Storm followed.
"No thank you," said Charles. "But we would like to talk to you, about your certain
abilities." Cheryl stood rigid and turned to them. They look nice, she thought. Giving a
heavy sigh, she took a seat across from them.
"Um, if you're talking about my surfing, then thank you, I think." The Professor chuckled.
"No, I was speaking about the abilities you used yesterday, to save that young man's life."
She stopped for a few seconds, stunned.
"Wait…how would you know about that?"
I can read your thoughts, Cheryl. She jumped to her feet.
"Oh fuck! Crap! Shit! What?!? Davy Jones eating my surfboard! God Damn it!" Storm
mouthed the phrase to the Professor, as if hoping he would know what it meant. Cheryl
stopped in her rant. "Oops. Pardon the words but…what?!?" Storm leaned forward.
"We mean you no harm. We would just like to open up an option for you." Her eyes perked
up.
"Really? Like what?" Storm look a bit puzzled.
"First, we would like to assess your power if you wouldn't mind." Cheryl stopped.
"Um…are you sure you wanna see that?" The two guests looked at each other before
encouraging her on. She shrugged her shoulders and pulled out a sewing needle. She
pricked her finger and pointed right between them. Three high pressured spurts of blood
shot out and hit the wall with a spatter. The two were stunned at the oddity of such a
thing. Storm raised a hand to her cheek where a light mist seemed to be. Soon, the mark
was closed and done. The Professor finally responded.
"You can pressurize blood?" She nodded.
"Yup, but that's not all." She extended her hand to the blood as it detached from the wall,
the carpet, even
Storm's cheek. It formed a nice round ball, floating before them.
"In-interesting," replied Storm.
"Yeah, I can regenerate, and clean all impurities inside of me." The possibilities intrigued
Charles.
"Could you also control other's people blood?"
"Yeah."
"Would you show us?" She cocked her head to the side.
"What?"
"Could you show us regenerating blood on others?" She took her seat again.
"Okay, you have an extra pint of blood now." Storm felt her skin.
"I don't feel any different." Cheryl took the needle out again.
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7. "Here." She went to the Storm and pricked the woman's forearm. With her other hand, she
drew out a pint of blood. Storm flexed her hand.
"It feels a little numb-” She stopped as she looked at the girl. Her blood, her own blood,
was now formed into a glass with a straw, with the girl drinking it. She tossed the little ball
of her own blood into the glass but decided differently. A few more sips and she put her
blood back in. When the drink was gone, she stopped as if to contemplate. Then she
looked up with a shining smile.
"Peanut butter!"
"Wha-what?" Storm seemed to have gone pale.
"Your blood," she responded. "That's what it tastes like. I thought you smelled different."
"Smelled?" Charles asked in a calm voice. The girl shrugged it off.
"Yeah, everyone has a different smell, just most smell like tap water." The two nodded, not
quite understanding. Charles coughed.
"Well, if you come back with us to the institute, you'll be able to use your powers freely, and
without fear of people judging you by them. This is the reason why we came all the way
here, to ask you to attend with the others like you." She stilled.
"There'll be other people like her," she asked as she pointed to Storm.
"Yes." Her smile broadened as she jumped up and started doing a dance.
"Yay! No more water!" She kept dancing, moving of the thighs, the shaking of the butt,
hands moving in circles, and fingers jabbing out into the air. The two looked a bit surprised
when she stopped in mid-motion as the Professor added, "You just have to get permission
from your parents." She put up her index finger.
"Wait here please," and walked to the study where her mom kept herself prisoner. She
made sure to knock and wait for an answer, before opening the door herself.
"Hey mother? I'm going to be gone for a…indefinite amount of time. I'll keep up with my
schooling." Mrs. Davis kept her eyes down on the project occupying her brain.
"Alright, I'll tell your father. Have fun." She walked back to the guests.
"Okay, it's cool." The Professor and Storm looked at her with compassion.
"How long do you need to get packed?" Charles asked. She looked back at her room before
answering.
"Give me five." They agreed and exited the house. Cheryl ran to her room. She grabbed
the camelback and threw it into her backpack along with the pictures of her and her uncle.
She looked around and glanced at her bookshelf, then proceeded to grab a duffle bag from
her closet and began throwing sections of her book collection into it. She hefted it onto her
shoulder with her other pack and exited the house. Storm looked at the girl and nodded.
She packs light, she thought.
"Oh, and I'm taking Mellony," Cheryl stated. Storm put on a smile.
"Oh, does your cat have all her shots?" The girl wrinkled her brow.
"Cat? No."
"Dog?"
"No." The Professor skimmed her mind.
"Your jeep?"
"Yes, my lovely Mellony. Of course, she wouldn't need shots, but she's up to date. Smog
check and all." The Professor just nodded his approval. She squeaked with joy and ran to
her beloved Jeep, Mel. A few minutes later, and a few buttons on her keychain, she had the
car ready to go.
"Jump in." Charles wheeled himself over to the seat, where he lifted himself in. Storm
struggled to put the chair in the back with the three duffle bags, backpack, surfboard,
snowboard, and other miscellaneous things. Cheryl asked where she was supposed to go
which they answered with directions to the park. She shrugged and followed along. When
they arrived at the Blackbird, she stared in awe.
"You have a jet…sweet." Charles smiled as she spoke the last word barely above a whisper.
There was a poof of smoke before Kurt popped up.
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8. "Professor! Professor! Is zis her?"
"Yes. Cheryl Davis meet Kurt Wagner, a student at the institute. Kurt, this is Cheryl, she'll
be coming with us back to the institute." His smile broadened.
"Oh! Vantastic. You're going to love it there. They accepted me, and I‟m the blue fuzzy
one!" She looked him up and down.
"You don't look so fuzzy…or blue." He stopped and looked at his hands.
"Hold on a minute." He clicked off the image inducer, reveling pointy tail and all. She was
shocked for a second before walking forward and feeling the pointy ears.
"Cool." She backed up Mel into the Blackbird and joined the rest in the cockpit. Kurt turned
to her.
"Uh…so, vhat's your power?" She lifted up her sunglasses, revealing her eyes to be a dark
crimson.
"It's more of show rather than a tell. I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise." He sank back to
the corner of his seat. The time passed and they made small talk. While Kurt was clinging
to the arms of his chair, she giggled and joked with him, unaffected by the high speeds.
Finally, the Professor turned to them.
"We've arrived, and may I welcome you to the Institute for the Gifted Youth." She jumped
up before he could finish his sentence and ran to the cargo area.
"Hey, where do I park?" Charles looked at Kurt.
"Would you show her to the garage?" He didn't have to think twice before teleporting to the
passenger side of the vehicle and buckling himself in. Cheryl nodded in approval.
"You ready?" He winked.
"Let's rock!" She turned on the engine. The lights turned on and "I Wish I Had An Angel"
by Nightwish blared out of the speakers. The cargo area opened. Waiting in the hanger,
the X-Men were anxious about who would come to join them soon. The guys hoped for a
really hot girl, the girls hoped for a gal pal. Beast hoped for someone with an intelligent
mind. What they didn't expect was the cargo hatch to open up to a jeep blaring drums and
guitar. The jeep revved up then bolted down the ramp. The group scattered, not wanting
to get run over. When the jeep came to a halt before them, the people looked at the front
seats. Kurt was whooping and smiling at the girl in the driver's seat. She wore a baggy
light blue shirt with long boy shorts. Her strawberry blonde hair, still crunchy from salt
water, was pulled back into a ponytail, her red eyes glitter in the fluorescent lighting. She
opened her mouth but nothing could be heard over the beat of the music. They signaled
her to turn down the volume. She turned the knob and repeated what she said.
"Hi, where do I park?" The group looked at her, the tan, the salt water hair, the surf scene
on the jeep, and the surf board in the back. A collective sigh moved through them, thinking
of Long Beach. Kurt beamed.
"Oh yeah, take zat corridor, over there."
"Alright!" She waved at them as she drove off. Jean stared after them.
"That's the first time anyone's brought their own car." The Professor came around to them
with a smirk.
"She wouldn't leave without it." Down in the garage, Cheryl was able to park Mel perfectly
with ease. Kurt whistled. She chuckled.
"This is nothing compared to the things I've had to go through back in Brazil." She reached
over into the glove compartment and retrieved a small spray bottle and cloth. She began
cleaning the hood as Kitty and Sam raced in to greet the new arrival.
"Wow, great paintjob!" said Sam and reached for the lovely Mellony. Cheryl batted his hand
away.
"No touchy. I've just cleaned her spots." She looked past them to see one of the most awe
inspiring motorcycles in her life. It was supped up beyond measure, just like her Mellony.
She didn't even notice that she whisked right past them and began murmuring to herself
over the bike. Kitty loomed over her shoulder.
"That's Logan's bike." She looked back at the perky girl.
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9. "Logan?"
"Yeah. He'd probably kill you if you touched it though." Cheryl raised an eyebrow.
"Does it look like I‟m touching it? I wouldn't touch this piece of artwork without permission.
What do you take me for, uncivilized." Kitty raised her hands in mock surrender.
"Sorry, just saying." She replied with a laid back smile.
"No worries. I get the idea. So, where do I head from here?" The perky one grabbed her
arm and started leading her back inside.
"Come on, you need to meet everyone else." Cheryl stopped and turned back to Sam and
Kurt before going inside.
"If anything happens to her, I'll drain you to four pints of blood." They sort of looked at
each other, as the girls went to the foyer. The rest of the students assembled and started
crowding around, Kurt and Sam joined in. Kitty let out a giggle.
"So, what's your power?" Cheryl looked at them and pulled out her sewing needle.
"Are you sure you wanna know?" They nodded, so she shrugged and poked Kitty.
"Ow! What the-” The words died in her mouth as her blood began to flow out like a deep
red thread, forming into a ball in midair. It formed into a tall glass with a straw as the new
girl put her hand on it and brought it to her lips, and drank. Time seemed to stop while she
drank Kitty's blood. When she was done, her eyes had turned darker, but not burgundy.
"Lemonade! A little too sweet, but still really good." The crowd kind of twitched.
"So," said Kurt. "you're like a vampire?" She lost most of her smile.
"Do you see my tan? I worked hard on this tan, man." Most of the group snickered as she
leaned forward to sniff Kitty.
"Yeah I thought you smelled different."
"What are you talking about?" She touched the side of her nose.
"Normal people smell like water. You smell like lemons, on a summer breeze." She took a
deep breath. "Smells nice." Kurt waved up his hand.
"What do I smell like?"
"You? You smell like toffee. Homemade toffee, made at Christmas. I want peanut butter."
Storm, who's standing on the corner of the room, twitched but could help but smile. Kitty
rubbed her arm.
"Usually people aren't too open with powers like yours."
"So?" she replied “I was promised freedom of expression. I‟m going to take it for all it's
worth." Storm and the Professor took her up to her room. She recruited Scott, who
smelled of something spicy, and Roberto, who smelled a little too rare, to carry up her other
bags. She handled her boards, no one else. When they reached the room, her eyes
widened.
"Wow, it's so…white." The boys dropped off the bags and headed down for dinner. As
Charles was about to follow, he looked back at his new student.
"Would you be joining us for dinner? You do look tired." She started unloading the duffle
bags.
"No thanks, not hungry yet. Time change and all. Actually I need to make some calls." He
nodded as she shut the door. About half way down the stairs, his eyebrows drew together.
"What's the matter," Storm asks. Charles just smiled and chuckled to himself. "Nothing. It
just seems that we will be having a very interesting time with our new student."
Cheryl got up early the next morning, packed up Mel, and drove to the coast. That morning
as she tried to surf, she realized that it was really fucking cold up north. The other surfers
in their wetsuits laughed at the skinny tanned girl in her swimming trunks and bikini top, to
which she only glared back. At around eight o'clock in the morning, she stomps into the
kitchen, shivering to the bone. Bobby took a seat at the small breakfast table drinking
orange juice, listening to her ramble under her breath about the cold.
"What's cold," he asked. She looked at him like he lost a few screws.
"The water! It's fucking cold!" He smirked and shrugged.
"So?" She walked over to him, her eyes wide with disbelief.
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10. "Okay, what do you do then?" He pointed a finger at her soaked shirt, as it began to freeze.
"Fuck!" She stormed back up to her room, leaving Bobby to giggle in his juice. Some of
the other occupants were woken up by loud cursing, but quickly went back to sleep. She
jumped in the shower really fast, and dressed herself in an oversized purple shirt with her
tan boy shorts. She picked up her cellphone and dialed a familiar number. She knew it was
too early for the shop to be opened, that's why she loved the answering machine.
"Hey, boss-man, yeah it's Cheryl. Listen, I've moved to the east coast, and I don't know
when I'll be back. Just to let you know. Oh and could you send me a wetsuit, my size and
everything. I need one that can handle really cold water. I sent you all the information.
Alright, I'll talk to you later. Ciao." For the rest of the day, she fixed her things, made
phone calls, and set up whatever arrangements she needed. The next morning, Cheryl
skipped surfing, causing her to grumble in her room. The doorbell rang. Jean opened the
door to UPS guy with a package for Cheryl Davis. She signed for it and took it upstairs.
She stopped at the doorway, watching the girl grumble.
"Are you okay," she asked. She got a low reply. Something about not going boarding.
"You got a package." Her eyes immediately brightened as she jumped from the bed and
grabbed the parcel. She set it down carefully then gave Jean a proper hug.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She let go of the now laughing red head.
"Sure, no problem." She took her leave and straightened her clothes. Just think, she
thought. What would happen if I gave her a present? Cheryl opened it up. The wetsuit
was black and thick. It was one of the newest products from her sponsor, complete with
gloves and booties. She decided to try it on and see how it fit. Logan entered the house
from the garage with one question on his mind. Whose jeep was that? He was never one
to like four wheelers, but damn. The paint job alone was impressive. Every last detail was
state of the art, down to clearly custom made locks on the doors. He followed the new
scent up to the bedrooms. She had a curious scent, one of an old battlefield overgrown
with wild flowers. The sweet scent of earth prevailing over the hint of the bloody past. He
stopped at an open door. Inside, was a girl, no, he corrected himself, teenager, stretching
out in a black wetsuit on the floor. He couldn't help but look her over. She wasn't that
endowed, but damn did she have a body for her age.
"And you are?" Cheryl craned her head back to look at him. The guy looked about in his
early twenties, blue black hair wild but managed. He seemed to have an animal feeling to
him. And his scent she couldn't quite figure out, just that he smelled great. She rose to
her feet and did a mock salute.
"Hi, I'm Cheryl Davis. You must be Logan." He smirked and raised an eyebrow.
"How do you figure that?" She smiled in return.
"Cause you're the only one I haven't seen yet." He nodded his approval. In an all too quick
motion, she jumped in the air.
"So you're the one who owns that phenomenal bike! Where'd you get your upgrades?" He
smiled a rare action if she only knew.
"A friend." She sunk down and pouted.
"So, what's your power?" He drew up his fist and unsheathed the claws. Her eyes shone as
the smell of blood hit her nose and extended her hand. His blood flowed along the claw to a
large bubble at the tip. Logan just stared as the glob formed and flew to her. She took it
and slurped it up. As soon as it was gone, she squealed.
"Tastes good!" She soon began to mutter to herself under her breath, the words of "tastes
so good", "not quite know what it is", and "oh my God" were repeated until she finally
lunged herself at him and latched on for a hug. Logan, who has never been attacked by a
student, stood there stuttering fearing he didn't draw his claws back in time.
"Hey, did I just-"
"You just taste so good! It's almost orgasmic!" When she finally realized what she was
doing she detached herself and grinned broadly. There was a small scratch on her cheek
from his claws.
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11. "Sorry, you guys aren't used to being open. I'll have to remember that." At that moment,
Storm noticed that Logan was talking with the new student.
"I see you've met our new student." He turned to her with a flat look.
"Yeah, no kidding. So what, you're like a vampire?" She heaved a great sigh.
"What is it with everyone saying that!?! Do you see the tan?" A smirk grew on his
stumbled face.
"No, not really." The smirk grew to a grin, causing her to blush. Storm intersected
between the two.
"I just came by to tell you that you're training will start the day after tomorrow. We'll meet
here to get you started." She nodded with a smile.
"Sure." Logan turned and started walking down the hall, but not before looking back at her
and flashing a grin. The blush deepened before she in turn closed her door. He chuckled to
himself all the way back to his bike. Along the way, everyone wondered if he was on his
way to horribly kill someone. Later that evening, Cheryl approached the Professor.
"Um, may I speak to you, Charles." He didn't know how to take it that a student was calling
him by his first name, but for now he believed it to be fine.
"Yes, how may I help you, Cheryl." She smiled.
"I wanted to talk to you about decorating my room."
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12. Chapter 3
Logan looked up from his paper and coffee to find a very happy Cheryl walk into the
kitchen. He couldn't help but look her over again. Her hair was starting to dry with salt
forming on the tips, her eyes were crimson red unlike the burgundy they were the night
before. She wore baggy clothing, which he was still able to see the swimsuit soaking threw
it. In her hands were several shopping bags. He smirked and raised an eyebrow.
"So, where'd you go this morning?" She smiled back.
"Surfing. You don't expect me to give it up do you?" He cracked his newspaper and hid
behind it.
"Where did you live? Before coming here?" She laid the bags on the table before
unslinging the camelback off of her.
"All over. How about you?"
"I've been a few places." He looked over at her again. She was sipping from the
camelback, her eyes glittering at him.
"I want some more," she said suddenly.
"More what?" Her brow drew together.
"Your blood, duh." It wasn't until a few moments did he smirk and sip his coffee.
"I'm on reserve." She sipped again from the camelback.
"Reserved?" He let the paper drop.
"I usually don't let people suck my blood. So unless you're dying, don't look at me like your
next meal."
"Oh…" Her head was hung down, her eyes drooping.
"Don't give me that look! It won't work on me." The sad face turned to a glare.
"Hmph!" She stood up, grabbed her bags and stomped off. Logan smiled thinking she
looked cute when she's frustrated. He shook his head, ridding his mind of the thought.
Upstairs, Cheryl quickly ran into the room and dropped the bags onto the bed. She
searched through one of the bigger ones, from a home improvement store in town. Out
came several rather large sheets of plastic. She proceeded to take out an exacto knife and
cut out the parameters of the windows. She looked up at the top of the window and
wondered how she was going to get up there when Kurt teleported next to her.
"Vat are you doing?" She jumped back.
"Oh hey! I was just going to decorate my room." She looked at his three fingered hands
and grinned.
"Wanna help?"
"Are you kidding? Of course!" They moved her furniture out into the hall, making sure
there was some room to walk by. They covered the floor, windows, and trimming with
plastic and painter's tape.
"Alright, go change and meet me back here." He teleported out. She took a quick rinse, to
get all the salt and sand off of her before dressing in brand new, pure white baggy shirt and
boy shorts. Kurt came back, dressed in a torn shirt and cargo pants, and looked at her, his
eyebrow raised.
"Vhy are you dressed in all vhite? And you still have a tag attached to it." She ripped off
the tag and smiled broadly as she proceeded to take out twenty four small cans of paint and
pop them open.
"Vat are you going to do?" She stirred them with sticks and looked at him.
"This." She takes up two of the sticks and flings the paint on the walls. Kurt looked at her
with disbelief.
"Does the Professor know about this."
"He approved!" They start flinging paint all over the place, leaving no corner unturned.
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13. "Okay, I want pi over two, and two pi." He looked at her like she grew three heads in the
middle of her forehead.
"The whole room." He nodded. "Oh and could you get some paint on your feet and walk on
the walls?" Kitty's room was next door. She started to hear the banging when she decides
to peek over. She stepped outside of the door and saw the furniture.
"What the?" She opened the door to see paint flying in every direction.
"What's going on?" They stopped and looked at her.
"Wanna join in?" She looked at the walls as her eyes lit up.
"Hell yeah!"
"Go get changed!" Kitty went and changed into old gym clothes before popping back over
and started flinging paint everywhere. About ten minutes later, Gambit, Iceman, and
Cannonball noticed that there was a massive amount of furniture blocking the hallway.
"What the hell?" They heard laughing from the room next to them. Gambit reached for the
door.
"Now, I wonder what's goin' on in here." He opened the door. A slash of paint flew at them
hitting all three in the face. Cheryl, Kitty, and Kurt looked at them for a second before
bursting into laughter. The boys wiped off their faces and looked at the scene around them.
"What are you doing?" Cheryl waved.
"Hi, I'm new and…the room was boring. Wanna join?" Gambit looked at the two next to
him.
"I don't know about you two, but I'll be right back." Cheryl laughed again as they exited.
"Sweet!" The boys came back and joined in. Kurt went around the top edge with the red
and dripped it down the walls. It looked strangely like blood. She approved. Gambit gave
a smirk as he picked up one of the near empty cans.
"Watch 'dis," he said as he charged it up. It exploded, a shower of paint going in every
direction. She looked down at her clothes and decided that they were coming along nicely.
Bobby pointed behind her.
"Hey look at that." The spray of paint left behind a silhouette of everyone in the room.
"Sweet!" She grabbed another near empty can and shoved it at him.
"Do this one next!" He took the paint and cracked a charming grin.
"Haven't met anyone like you before, Cher." She thought about it.
"I hope not, it would be kind of weird if there was another me." The painting went on and
on and on, for hours. Hand prints, foot prints, body prints, tail prints, splats, mists, strokes,
it was a multicolor candy land. At one point, Kitty walked through the wall, leaving all the
paint that was on her on the wall. Cheryl looked at it with a critical eye.
"It's too clean," she exclaimed before she smeared it with her hands. Kitty went back and
pouted.
"You killed my image."
"I'm sorry." Sam was about to fly around with paint when Bobby yelled at him.
"Better not knock down a wall, Cannonball." Cheryl turned to him immediately.
"You knock down a wall, I'll drain you to four pints of blood." Kurt was walking on the
ceiling with painted feet.
"I've been meaning to ask you. Vat does that mean?" She splattered more paint on the
ceiling next to him.
"It's the minimal amount of blood an average person needs in their circulatory system. Any
less and you'd die." His spine stiffened.
"Oh…" She flicked a splatter of red on his face.
"Looks nice."
"Hey!" By the time the paint was gone, they exited the room covered with color. Cheryl
changed and left her newly created clothes to dry, wearing only her bikini top and
swimming trunks. It's only paint, she thought. I'll grab a hose outside. She walked down
the stairs hearing the others fight over the bathrooms. She didn‟t turn at the sound of the
sitting room door open, and Logan stepping through. He sniffed and coughed. Who was
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14. sniffing the house paint? Cheryl entered his line of vision wearing her bathing suit, covered
in paint, and heading outside. What was she doing now, he asked himself. He followed to
see her looking along the ground and along the side of the mansion. He leaned against the
stone railing.
"What are you looking for?" She didn't even bother looking at him.
"The…fucking garden hose." He twitched at the choice of words and went next to the stairs
and pulled out the long garden hose.
"You mean this 'fucking garden hose'?" She looked up at him, her torso turning, her legs
extended, her back slightly arched, and her now visible tan skin glowing in the sunlight.
"Yeah!" He turned it on and showered her with the freezing cold water of the north. She
smiled and cheered.
"Yay!" Logan turned off the hose and looked at her. This wasn't the effect he was hoping
for.
"Why'd you stop," she asked, the paint running off of her. He exhaled and hosed her down
again. When the paint was gone she smiled brightly.
"Thanks Logan." She ran towards the garage, leaving a very bewildered Wolverine on the
lawn with the garden hose. Cheryl went to the garage and rummaged through Mellony's
trunk until she found the large beach towel to dry herself off. She walked back up the
stairs, the boys still yelling at Kitty in the bathroom. She put on another pair of baggy shirt
and boy shorts, after all that's all she had, besides a few "other" ware. She headed out,
calling out before she left.
"I'm going to town! I'll have my cell phone!"
Alright. I hope you find a good tide table, Charles voice echoed in her head. She staggered
and grabbed onto the doorframe.
"I'll never get used to that." She jumped in Mellony and drove out into town. She stopped
at a grocery store and parked at a corner. She petted the lovely car.
"Don't worry, I'll be back soon." She searched for hours for a shop who sold a tide table.
What's wrong with these people, she asked herself. The sun was setting and it would be
dinner time soon. She told Kurt that she would be joining the rest of them for dinner. She
couldn't be late. When she finally got back, she was frustrated and tired. She passed
several people on the way to the dining room, mumbling under her breath. She was one of
the first to sit down at the table and stay still. As others gathered, as soon as they looked
at her, they twitched. Her eyes were crimson red and they didn't go unnoticed. The
Professor joined and they began to eat. The plates were passed around as everyone took
their portion.
"So," said Charles. "What happened to your room today." The five that helped her turned
to her incredulity. She smiled as she took a spoonful of broccoli.
"I painted it today. I mean, you said I could paint it anyway I wanted it." He nodded and
chuckled.
"I know. I just wanted to make sure nothing horrible happened." Cheryl poked and played
with her food, wanting something else. She looked to her left and sniffed. Berserker looked
back at her, wondering what she was doing. She skids over closer to him as she pulled out
her trusty sewing needle and poked him in the arm.
"Ow! What-" The table stopped all activity and stared as she streamed out the blood into
her glass. Logan slapped his forehead. She had to do that here? She sipped at it and
shrugged.
"Better than water." Storm chuckled and Charles smiled. Berserker moved his chair farther
away from her.
"What?" Charles paid attention as her eyes turned to a darker red. She looked back at the
guy next to her.
"You're very nutritious, but not very delicious." She proceeded to push her broccoli onto his
plate.
"What are you doing?"
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15. "What? You taste like it." The others snickered under their breath. Kitty leaned over the
table.
"Why do you do that?" Cheryl turned to her.
"Do what?"
"Drink other people's blood?" The table was now staring at her, waiting for something.
"Oh, I've just had a craving ever since I got my powers. It just comes with the territory I
guess." Kitty leaned back again.
"Freaky," she mumbled under her breath. Everyone stayed quiet during dinner after the
little display. However, Cheryl still heard them mumbling and whispering to each other.
"Not going near her." and "Vampire, man." and "That's just weird." Berserker kept looking
over his shoulder at her and flinched when she moved her arm. Oh, she thought. I see.
She looked at the Professor and gave her usual cherry lip smile.
"I'm feeling tired, Charles. May I be excused to bed?" He knew she wasn't tired but smiled
back kindly.
"Yes of course." She nodded and walked out the door. It only took a few seconds after she
left before the whole room started talking about her. Kurt wasn't getting in the
conversation, and neither was Gambit. Bobby and Sam tried to talk about how fun and
outgoing she was to Kitty and the rest. Scott and Jean went on about being more accepting
of others and their abilities. The noise was reaching a ridiculous level when Rogue slammed
her hands on the table and stood up, grabbing everyone's attention.
"What the hell is wrong with y'all!" The Professor raised a hand.
"Now, Rogue…"
"Ah'm sorry Professor but…Ah can' believe you guys would do somethin' like this. It was
her first dinner here with us and all you did was criticize her." Kitty scoffed.
"Come on Rogue. You saw her! She drank his blood!" Rogue cocked her hip and crossed
her arms over her stomach.
"Did everyone suddenly forget mah power now? Ah heard what every one of ya said and
you said the same thing about me! Ah'm the girl you can't touch without passing out! You
know what, nevermin'. Ah‟m goin' ta bed." She stormed out of the room, Gambit calling
after her. Rogue was so angry, she walked right past Cheryl listening in from the hallway.
Back in the dining room, Charles smiled and Logan worried if she would stay. She left the
hallway and went back to her room. The paint was still drying and the bed was propped
against the dresser. She looked at the top of the dresser. It was wide and long enough for
her to sleep on. So she grabbed a few blankets and climbed on. That night, she felt like
she could get along here.
As usual, Cheryl woke up and went surfing. The waves were excellent that day, so she
stayed out longer. It was ten o'clock by the time she finally got back to the Institute. She
bounced as she jumped in the kitchen, expecting to see Logan, but found Rogue, the girl
who stood up for her the night before. She was seated at the table eating a pop tart with
orange juice, and reading Robert Frost. Cheryl stopped and looked back and forth between
the book and Rogue. Finally, Rogue put the book down and looked at the surfer at the
door.
"What?"
"You know he smoked pot right?" Rogue cracked a grin.
"Didn't everyone." They laughed and Cheryl took a seat next to her. She sipped from her
camelback, only to find it empty. She frowned.
"Aw, man." Rogue raised an eyebrow.
"What do ya put in there anyway?" Cheryl looked at her camelback then back to her new
friend.
"Juice?" The southern girl snorted.
"No offence, sugah. But Ah don't think you're the type to keep juice on ya back." It was a
few seconds before Cheryl started laughing, and soon so was Rogue. Their sides were
splitting open when Logan walked in. He took one look at the both of them, grabbing their
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16. sides, tears in their eyes, doubled over on the table, and turned around at the door. This
only made them laugh harder. By the time they were able to catch their breath without
starting again, they talked. They talked about the others, the institute, and good clubs to
visit in the future, authors and their complexes, and each other's gifts.
"My power is no gift," said Rogue. "All it does is cause more trouble." Cheryl looked at her,
wondering if she was joking.
"Wait, wait, wait. You can absorb people's energy, mutant powers, experience, abilities,
techniques, memories through the skin… Sweet! Can you imagine if you touched a wolf for
just a second! You could hunt anything!" Rogue smiled. No one was ever so enthusiastic
about her powers before. Her smile sobered.
"Ya know, most of the others here aren't so positive about abilities like ours." She cocked
her head to the side, thinking about the night before.
"What are you talking about?" Rogue sighed, blowing some of her white streaked hair out
of her face.
"People don't go near us, sugah. That's just the way it's seen." Cheryl thinks about it then
shrugs it off.
"They can think whatever the hell they want. I was promised that I could be myself, and
I'm going to stick to it."
Rogue smiled.
"But…" Cheryl continued, her eyes serious from what could be perceived as experience. "I
can't judge them for what they are. We're all mutants, right? If you really take a look at
us, in our DNA, we're really not different." Rogue gave a half smile. This girl was definitely
something new. She extended her gloved hand.
"I‟m Rogue." Cheryl smiled back.
"Cheryl Davis." They shook hands. Rogue looked her over with a questioning glance.
"How old are you?" The girl sighed. The same question all the time. Granted, she stopped
growing around the time her powers kicked in, but it wasn't too bad being only five feet tall,
right?
"I'm eighteen," she replied, a twitch in her voice. Rogue recognized it and backed off the
subject. I wonder what the others would think, she thought. Cheryl looked at the clock and
stood up.
"I gotta go. I'm meeting PB-I mean…Storm? Yeah, Storm for my first training session."
Rogue smiled.
"Don't worry, they shouldn't go too hard on ya yet." They agreed to meet again at dinner
before separating. She walked up the stairs, smiling at everyone she passed. When she
got to her room, Storm was standing next to it. The woman smiled at the girl she brought
back to the institute. She had to make sure the little Vamp was prepared for the outside
world. If her own students responded in such a negative way to her, she didn't want to
think about the rest of the human world.
"Ready to train?" She extended a box to her.
"Follow me." Cheryl took the box and followed her tasty teacher to the lower levels of the
institute.
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17. Chapter 4
In the observation deck over the Danger room, Storm tried to think of what level would be
suitable for Cheryl's first time training. Logan walked in behind her and crossed his arms.
"Has she come out yet?" She smiled.
"No." He sighed, knowing what the problem was.
"She didn't like the uniform did she?" Ororo began to laugh.
"No." He went over to the intercom.
"Little Fang! Get your ass out here!" Cheryl's voice carried out of the locker room clear as
a bell.
"No fucking way!"
"Get out here now!" Cheryl stepped into the danger room wearing the generic black
spandex suit with yellow gloves and boots, and she did not look happy.
"What the fuck is this thing! It's a wetsuit! That's all this thing is! And it isn't even that
good, I mean this is so thin. And you want me to move in this? Oh, and the heels!" Logan
jabbed at the intercom button again.
"Shut up, Vamp. We're going to test you to see how you fair with your powers in combat."
She stared at them for a second.
"What?!?"
"Use your powers to defeat your opponent." She pulled out her sewing needle as a combat
robot began advancing. It stopped a few short feet away from her, waiting for the go. It
looks like something from Star Wars, she thought. She looked between her needle to the
huge looming piece of machinery.
"This is just fucked up," she said before dodging away from a huge foot. She dodged again
and again, never advancing or retreating. It reminded Logan of Whack-A-Mole. He
grumbled as he turned to Storm.
"This is a waste of our time." She smiled back thoughtfully at her colleague. He didn't look
a day over 24 at the most, but she knew he was older than her, maybe even more than
Charles.
"Maybe she doesn't know that she's supposed to defend herself in the process." They
turned back to the simulation to see her riding on the machine's head like a bull rider.
Logan pushed at the intercom again.
"You're supposed to attack it, Little Fang!" She stopped as the realization dawned on her.
"Oh!" She was knocked off of the thing, but quickly gained her footing again. She took up
a stance, still wobbly before kicking up and lodging her heel into the thing's neck. It
twitched before finally falling over, taking her shoe with it. She pulled off the other and
swung it around her head.
"Fear my almighty high-heels! Bwahahaha!" Logan raised an eyebrow before laid his face
in his hands, better to hide his smile. She was finally able to get the other heel back by the
time Logan stepped next to her.
"Not bad, where did you learn to kick like that?" Cheryl remembered when Big Uncle Danny
told her they were going to Brazil to watch an old friend of his in a fight.
"Oh, here and there." He looked at the robot again, the hole sputtering and sparking. He
didn't want to ask how she knew where to hit it. He just didn't.
"So," he said, turning his attention back to her. "What can you do?" She narrowed her
eyes and pointed at the robot.
"Yeah I know, but what can you do with your powers?"
"Oh." She straightened up. "I can do lots of things."
"Anything you can use in combat?" She opened her mouth, but closed it and shook her
head. He grumbled again.
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18. "Okay, let's see you make a knife." She looked at her needle, then back up to his face with
an innocent look.
"I need more blood." He narrowed his eyes.
"No."
"Please?" He looked up as the doors opened and Scott walked in, dressed and ready.
"Cyclops! Get over here." He jogged over.
"Yeah?" Logan nodded to Cheryl. She pouted, not being able to get some of his wonderful
blood. She pricked Scott and drew the blood out. He didn't say anything, just watched his
blood form ball the size of a soccer ball. She began to mold it, first into a cylinder, then
flattening it and finally getting an edge and point.
"Aha!" she exclaimed, holding it in her hand. Logan looked at it and pushed his finger
through it, the liquid swimming in shape around his finger. He cocked an eyebrow. She
glared back at him.
"You didn‟t say anything about density." He sighed again. She was going to be a lot of
work.
"Okay, can you levitate?" She knitted her brow together. What was with these people!?!
What did she look like? God?
"I'll…try." She took the knife and flattened it into a plate. Logan shook his head. She
spread her hands out and began to push the blood out further until it was a thin red disk.
She put her foot out, and stepped right through it. She began to swirl the blood around.
"Thanks," she said. "I learned how to make a floating puddle." Scott smiled. Logan didn't.
"Alright then, condense it for me, Vamp." Cheryl twitched at the name again.
"You know I already have a nickname, it's littleb… Vamp it is." The men looked at each
other, then back to her as she formed the liquid back into a ball and began squeezing it,
literally.
"Squeeze! Squeeze!" Logan began to chuckle.
"Do you need a laxative, Little Fang?" Slowly, the ball began to shrink and deepen in color.
Finally, it was the size of a tennis ball, shimmering scarlet and onyx. Her breath was
coming out in low pants, but she looked at the little ball with pride and accomplishment.
She set her eyes on her teacher and threw the ball at his stomach. It bounced off of him,
off the floor and back to her hand. He touched where the ball tickled him and looked back
at Cheryl. She was busy playing with it, making it bounce off the walls and ceiling.
"Hey, Little Fang!" The ball flew back to her hand.
"Yes?" He held back his grumble this time.
"What else can you do? You said before that you could do lots of things." She smiled
again, a spread of cherry red.
"Yeah, I can change my blood type, purify my blood-and that includes diseases-I can stop
bleeding, clot it and make it scab. I can write messages with it. Oh, and for some weird
reason, my blood is always highly pressurized." Storm, still up in the monitoring room,
sank back into her chair. Logan stopped her.
"Wait, your blood is pressurized." She smiled and nodded as she pulled out her sewing
needle.
"See." She poked her finger, squirting out three high projectile sprays. Logan, for the first
time since he met her, cocked his head slightly to the side in question, wondering, just
wondering, what the fuck. Scott watched the blood spray fly into the air as his own
complexion paled. She watched it stop bleeding and clot over before looking back at the
two males, their eyes twitching. Logan cleared his throat and pushed the…oddity?...of it
aside.
"It just happens?" She nodded.
"Yeah. I think it's because I have more blood in me than a normal human being." Logan
turned and started walking back up to the observation deck. Cyclops looked at Cheryl then
to Logan, and back again.
"What do you want me to do?" Logan didn't bother looking over his shoulder.
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19. "Stay with her, make sure she doesn't hurt herself." He left the two staring at each other,
Cheryl smiling and Scott twitching. Logan entered the observation deck to see Ororo trying
to stifle her giggle. He took his seat next to her.
"I take it you've seen that before?" She nodded, the grin reaching ear to ear.
"She's an interesting child, don‟t you think Logan?" He didn't answer, just looked out to the
danger room. Scott stood to the side, ready to jump in if she needed it. She cleared level
after level, crushing robot after robot. Finally, she started to waver, a giant mechanical
hand coming at her from the side. Scott stepped in and helped. As the session went on, he
was barely able to dodge one of the blades. Cheryl stepped behind him and raised a hand
to the small cut that had formed. It clotted and formed a slight scab. More came flying at
them, as Cyclops moved to get the right shot. Cheryl followed behind him, concentrating
as hard as she could.
"Stop moving damn it!" For the rest of the level, she hid behind Cyclops. Logan smirked.
"Looks like we found her level." Storm looked at the readings gained from the fight. She
looked back to him.
"What are you thinking?" He stood up and headed down, showing something of a devilish
smirk. Entering the danger room, he stared at the two students. The two were completely
different. Cyclops, the senior student of the class, dutiful, takes charge, uptight, and selfrighteous. Then Vamp, the new youngster, laid back, smiling, friendly, and always willing to
listen. He almost laughed. Cyclops stood straighter as he advanced.
"Before I tell you what you're going to be doing, let's hear from the Calvary." The boy
stammered as he looked at the new recruit.
"Her powers make her more like a medic than a fighter. Maybe she should go see Beast."
Logan nodded.
"Alright, Little Fang. Here's the deal. You'll spend half your days with Hank, then the other
half training here. I don't care if you're intent on healing the Devil himself. You're learning
how to fight." Her jaw dropped. Before she could retort, Wolverine turned and walked
away, calling over his shoulder.
"We got a few more hours to go. Let's get started." They trained for hours, going through
the same levels again and again. Logan looked at the clock when he saw her trip behind
Cyclops. It was five o'clock. He pushed the intercom button.
"Alright, that's it for today. Vamp, you'll go to the Lab at nine o'clock every morning to
work with Hank. Now get out of here." He watched as Cheryl shook hands with Cyclops
then proceeded to chop down on the dense ball of his blood. She stiffened and he pushed
on the intercom to hear what she was saying.
"Milk! Milk! I need! Milk!" She fanned her mouth, tears coming to her eyes. Cyclops
looked almost insulted, but couldn't get over the horror of the act. She breathed in deeply,
eyeing the blood in her hand. Ororo looked over the controls.
"What is she doing?" Cheryl took a few more gasps of air before shoving the rest of the ball
into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed. For a second, she stilled then ran out of the
danger room. She ran, tears streaming down her cheeks, unable to scream. She ran past
everyone to the kitchen. Gambit was grabbing a glass from the cabinet when she barged
in, looking to be in total distress.
"What's wrong, pe'ti?!" She pushed past him to the fridge and grabbed the open carton of
milk. She ripped it open, not bothering with the folds. She chugged and chugged, rivers of
the drink running down her jaw. The carton tipped up, the last drops falling on her tongue.
She shook it, making sure there was nothing left. Gambit inched over, eyeing the torn
piece of cardboard in her hand. Her breath came out in low, shallow pants.
"You okay?" he asked again. Her neck twitched as she threw the carton into the recycle
bin. She grumbled under her breath. Something about too spicy and not healthy. He
placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Pe'ti?" She turned to him with a bright smile, her eyes a lovely shade of dark cherry.
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20. "I'm fine." He drew an eyebrow up as she exited again and came back, wearing her usual
clothing carrying an iPod and her keys.
"Where you goin'?" She walked to the garage door.
"I'm going to find myself a tide table." His head tipped to the side.
"I don' know what 'dat is, but good luck, cher." She smiled again before leaving.
"I'll be back by dinner!" She walked by Mellony and petted her.
"I'm sorry," she said, regret clearly in her voice. "But I think I'll use my feet this time."
She put her earplugs in and turned on the iPod. She danced and pranced all the way to
town, singing to the best of her ability. People walked around her as she started to sing
even louder. She took didn't bother to take notice of this.
"Peaches come from a can!
They were put there by a man!"
"Look out!" she heard someone shout from behind her. She turned and noticed that there
was a boy on a flying skateboard coming at her. She widened her stance and braced her
arm up, catching the board enough for the boy to make a decent landing. He skidded to a
stop and tore off his helmet.
"Are you okay? I'm so sorry! I don't know what I was doing! Are you okay?" She looked
at her arm then at the boy, then back again.
"Ow! I mean, ow! You get used to them, but ow!" He stammered as he inched closer to
examine her arm. She wasn't crying, or wailing and she was, what, fourteen?
"You know, most people would be screaming in pain right about now, but please don't
start." She sighed as she eyed the skateboard.
"And did you know, that if you leaned to the right and kicked up a little bit, you could have
cleared that jump?"
The boy wrinkled his brow and thought about it, now that he wasn't about to crash land into
another human being.
"I think you're right." She laughed.
"Of course I'm right. Don't question the genius!" He scratched the back of his skull. This
girl was definitely weird, and yet there was something familiar about her. He held out his
hand.
"I'm Evan. Even Daniels. But friends call me Spike." She shook his hand.
"Cheryl Davis. So tell me, do you know this town?" He scoffed, kicking up his board into
his hand.
"Like the back of my hand." She smiled brightly.
"Good! Where the fuck can I find a fucking tide table." He took her to a small surf shop
close to the coast. She jumped him out of joy, finally getting what she was looking for.
They walked out of the shop, smiling, when Evan looked at her arm to see the damage he
caused. The skin was tanned, non-blemished and unbruised. He poked her arm, to see if it
was covered by some miraculous make-up…that she didn't have time to put on?
"OW! WHAT THE FUCK!" She grabbed her arm away, Evan still looking at the unmarked
skin.
"You don‟t have a bruise."
"Yes I do!"
"No you don't. You don't have a mark on you! I mean, I have strong bones, but if I took a
hit like that, I'd have a mondo bruise." She shrugged.
"Trees hurt more." The comment seemed random, but so true, so he laughed. They
walked a ways more, before they both looked at the time and screamed "Dinner!" He
looked at her.
"Does your family have dinner at this time too?" She gave a short laugh.
"Well, they're not really family, but yeah."
"Where do you live?"
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21. "Oh, I‟m new there. It's the mansion at the end of town. With the big scary gate." He
peered at her for a second, then noticed how this small girl had eyes the color of dark
cherries.
"The Xavier Institute?" She snapped her fingers.
"Yeah! That's the name."
"Dude! I live there too!" She stiffly put her hand on his shoulder.
"Can you do me a favor?" He nodded.
"Don't call me dude." They walked on to the Institute, talking about boarding sports and
whatnot. They reached the front gate and punched in the code for the twisted iron to open.
As soon as the gate closed behind them, Cheryl pulled out her sewing needle and poked
him. Spike jumped away, rubbing at the red thread coming from his arm.
"What the hell?" He watched it form and twist into a blob of blood floating in front of her.
She slurped at it, and his stomach sank about an inch. Her eyes narrowed with
contemplation before she snapped her fingers. The blob began to lengthen and curve into a
small celery stick. She sank her teeth into it, staring at her new companion.
"What?" His eye twitched.
"I…" He squinted at the small teenage girl eating his blood, before slapping his forehead.
"I taste like celery?!?" She crunched down on the stick again.
"What?" He let out an exaggerated sigh.
"There's no way I can taste that healthy." She took another bite, looking him up and down.
"Well, you board, and you look healthy. But it could use some peanut butter…" She looked
back at the school, a smile forming.
"Come on, it's dinner time." They walked to the front door. The door opened as the whole
group cheered for their friend's return.
"Welcome back bud."
"Hey! Evan!"
"Dude, how was home?" Cheryl stood next to the doorframe, watching everyone laugh and
greet Spike. The Professor entered the room with the same generous smile.
"It's good to see you back, Evan."
"Thanks, Professor." The old man turned and looked at Cheryl in her small corner.
"Come now, before the food gets cold." Cheryl walked past him. He smiled up at her.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" She looked at him and smirked. There was just
something about him… At the dinner table, Rogue sat on one side of her, with Gambit,
Kurt, and now Evan sitting around her. They laughed among themselves. When a plate of
vegetables was passed around, Evan glared at the celery before passing it on. The day
ended and everyone got ready for bed. Kurt teleported next to Cheryl.
"Hey, need any help with your furniture?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Do you honestly believe that I can lift that much?" Scott and Jean decided, after many
minutes of debate of the right time, to walk over, shame painted on their faces.
"If you wouldn't mind, we'd like to help. Because of last night." She cocked her head to the
side. What happened last night? Her fingers snapped again.
"Oh yeah. Huh. It's no problem. I would guess it's a normal reaction. I think. Maybe…"
Scott walked past her and grabbed the end of the desk.
"Hey, Kurt, you going to help or not?" Kurt glared at him before teleporting over. The
students helped bring in the furniture, but not before admiring the wonderful paint job
done. Many contemplated on asking the Professor if they could do the same. Spike poked
at the still gleaming white trim.
"Why is the trimming still white?" Cheryl smiled.
"Looks sweet, no?" Everything was put in its place before they said goodnight and retired
to their own rooms. Cheryl climbed into bed and started bouncing on it, reminding her of a
hotel in Hawaii. After about an hour of jumping on her bed, she turned out the lights and
stared at the glow-in-the-dark paint that was splattered on the walls with the other colors of
the rainbow. Now, she thought. This was a room.
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23. Chapter 5
Logan sat down at the small kitchen table, the sun beginning to shine through the windows;
his paper opened in front of him with two pieces of toast next to the milk carton with the
top cut off. It was a beautiful morning, then Cheryl walked in. He stopped his reading for a
second to look her over. She was small, tanned, and in good shape. Her hair was still wet
and clinging to her skin. She smiled brightly when she saw him.
"Morning!"
"Hn." His paper cracked, standing on end. She bounced to the fridge, took out the orange
juice, poured herself a glass, bouncing back to the table afterwards. Logan continued to
drink from his milk, never looking over his paper. Cheryl looked at the newspaper, not
really interested in the front page.
"You know, you should eat more." The top of the paper folded over. He looked at his quart
of milk in the carton, and his two small pieces of toast, then looked at her one small glass of
OJ. He raised an eyebrow.
"Look who's talking, Miss OJ." She narrowed her eyes and grinned at him.
"Okay." She stretched over and took one of the pieces of toast and started munching on it
like a squirrel. He growled, having his food stolen and raised a fist. Her eyes glittered
again.
"Ah! Remember, you didn't want me to take your blood before, so don't give it to me."
She smiled cherry red. His hand unclenched and grasped the milk again.
"Hn." The paper wall went up again. She munched on until it was gone, and he returned to
his paper. The toast in her hand disappeared, crumbs scattered everywhere on the table.
She sipped at her OJ, eyeing the piece of golden brown buttered toast left on the plate.
Logan was hidden behind the paper; her hand inched forward, he didn't make a sound.
She inched again, nothing. Her hand stretched out, the fingers just about to graze the
crispy surface, when Logan's hand came up and smacked hers away. She bolted back in
her seat, clinging to the beaten hand like a wounded puppy. The paper folded down again,
his eyes halfway between a smirk and a glare. Her eyes widened in fake innocence.
"But, you said I should eat more…" The paper snapped back up.
"Not from my plate," he gruffed. She glared out the window and pouted. A few moments
went by before her eyes returned to the golden buttered prize on the plate. Her hand
inched forward again, slower this time. Her hand was about to reach the plate.
"What did I just say?" Her hand jumped back at the sound of his voice to slick back her
hair.
"I don't know what you mean." She finished her orange juice before her head perked up
again.
"Oh, yeah, I have to go see Beast in the Lab." She looked at Logan. He raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Where's the lab?" He opened his mouth to try to give directions when he saw her grasping
the table and looking in the air around her, as if something was about to swoop down and
take off her head.
"I'll never get used to that." He grinned and snapped the paper up again. Charles… She
got up, shook her head around. She started to walk out before stopping and looking back
at the last piece of toast. Her eyes dashed between the prey and its protector, then bolted,
grabbed the toast and ran out.
"See you later!" Logan tried to grab her but her small frame slipped away.
"Cheryl!" She was gone, with the last piece of his so called breakfast. Cheryl ran up the
stairs and rinsed off. She recalled the information the Professor "gave" her and headed on
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24. her way. She arrived at the Laboratory exactly fifteen minutes later. She knocked on the
door.
"Come in." The voice was an older male, but gentle. The doors opened and she looked
around, no one was in there.
"Hello?"
"Up here." She looked up and saw Beast, Hank McCoy, upside-down on his bars reading
over something. He gave a toothy smile before jumping down.
"Pardon me, I do tend to enjoy a bit of exercise when I work." She looked at him and
cocked her head to the side. Hank spread out his long arms and shrugged.
"The aim of art is not to represent the intended appearance of things, but their inward
significance." She smiled and chuckled.
"If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change." He
stared at her smiling face for a second before raising one of his hands.
"Buddha?"
"Yup. Aristotle?"
"Correct." They smiled again.
"I‟m Hank McCoy, otherwise known as Beast." She shook his furry blue hand.
"Cheryl Davis, otherwise known as Vamp. Gah." She turned her head out and stuck her
tongue out. "I hate that name." He chuckled.
"Don't worry, you get used to some of them." She turned her head to the side again, her
eyes narrowed.
"What?" She pointed at him.
"I was just wondering…are you related to Kurt?" He stared at her for a second, not really
sure what to say. Then a smile began to form, than a chuckle, and soon he was clutching at
his sides from all the laughter coming out. She looked around, hoping to find some answer
to why the question was so funny. When he finally got up again and wiped the tears from
his cheeks, he patted her on the back.
"You're not used to being around Mutants are you?" Her lower lip slipped forward into a
mini-pout.
"Why would you say that?" He just shook his head. One would have thought that she'd run
into someone already. He pulled a stool near to his and motioned for her to sit.
"Now, you've been assigned to come work with me. To help develop your powers more in
the biological scene. So I'd like to see what you can do first. Start with the easiest then
move up to difficult, alright?" Her brow squished again.
"Are you sure you want to see that?" Hank donned his glasses and picked up a clipboard.
"I know we didn't really get to know each other during the time at dinner, but trust me
when I say, acceptance is my creed. As a wise woman once said, 'When you find peace
within yourself, you become the kind of person who can live at peace with others." Her
smile was simple before she scratched her head.
"I can't figure out who said that." He started writing on the clipboard and smiled.
"Maybe I'll tell you one of these days. Now come on. Let's start." He rummaged over one
of the counters and picked up a folder. He looked over the contents and smiled.
"Ah! I can see why Logan told you to come to me. So you can regenerate blood of any
blood type. Could you show me?" She cocked her head to the side.
"What?"
"Could you show me how you regenerate blood?" She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly.
"Why does everyone ask me that? I mean come on!" She covered her face with her hands
and let out a muffled yell. Hank just raised an eyebrow and tapped his pen. A few
moments later, she sat up, the cherry spread of lips present.
"Better now."
"Alright… so, are you going to show me?" Her eyes narrowed.
"You have one more pint of blood." He nodded and scribbled on the clipboard.
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25. "Okay, next please." She drew out her needle and poked him. He blinked at the prick, but
stared amazed as the tiny spider's thread of his blood floated into the air and formed a ball.
"Fascinating! Odd, but fascinating." They continued through the steps, shaping it into
different glasses, then juggling it. Finally, she squeezed the ball into a tiny marble. With
the flick of her finger, the ball went flying off of the walls, crashing bottles along the shelves
and walls. The tiny thing finally rested back in her hand. Their eyes were still wide before
smiles slowly began to creep up. Finally, Hank took out a syringe.
"I was hoping to get a sample of your blood. Do you mind?" She looked at the needle,
then back to her teacher.
"Honestly… I don't know what will happen, but you could try." She smiled innocently. His
eyebrow quirked up as he disinfected her arm and punctured her skin. FOOM! The back of
the syringe flew off to the back of the lab. Two squirts of blood flew out of the tube. He
looked down at his bruised thumb.
"Interesting." An irresolute smile slowly crawled across her lips.
"My blood is highly pressurized. I don't know why it does that, but it is the only thing I
have no control over. Hence the flying mechanical piece." The doctor rubbed his furry chin.
"Intriguing." He tried again several times, but the same thing occurred. The back flew off
to either land in some new elixir, or break something glass. When he was about to try
again, Cheryl stopped him.
"Wait! Let me try something." She took the syringe and pulled out the back. The needle
struck her vein instantly shooting blood into the air. With her other hand, she controlled the
blood back into the syringe. When it was full, she pulled out the needle and pushed the
back on carefully.
"See." She smiled. "All done." He grinned in amusement.
"Indeed, that's something you don't see every day." He looked up at the clock on his wall.
Instead of numbers on the clock, there were the first twelve elements on the periodic table.
"It is time for your class with Logan. Better hurry, he doesn't tolerate tardiness." She
jumped up and headed for the door. At the last second, she turned back and looked up at
the clock.
"Heh, it's cute." She ran out, Hank laughing in his chair. She ran down the hall. About half
way down, she popped the small ball of blood in her mouth. It reminded her of the
holidays, but she couldn't figure it out. She put the notion in the back of her head for the
moment. In the Danger Room, Wolverine started setting up what he wanted to run
through. Vamp was the medic for the team, but she needed to learn how to protect herself.
Of course, from the look of things the day before, she could take care of herself pretty well.
The doors opened behind him. In walked in Cheryl with a smile on her face, and he could
see why. She wasn't wearing the usual uniform. It was the kind of uniform a student of
kung fu would wear. The shirt was a Chinese blouse falling just below mid-thigh, slits
coming up to her waist, black high collared with red trimming and oriental knots flowing
down the right side of her body. The pants were also black and wide in the leg but with
elastic around the ankle with what looked like silk slippers. The final detail, a gorgeous
phoenix embroidered on the front climbing up to her waist. She pulled her hair up into a
makeshift bun, tendrils falling around her shoulders. Logan's eye twitched.
"What are you wearing?" She looked down at her outfit and smiled.
"My uniform." He rubbed his temples.
"No, you're supposed to wear the same uniforms as the rest of the new students. Now get
back in there and change." The fabric swayed as she cocked her hip to the side.
"Who's going to make me? You?" His eyes narrowed down at her.
"Don't tempt me." He soon regretted his words as a charming smile spread across her face.
"So wait, you're going to follow me, into the girl's changing room, strip me-" The doors
opened behind her.
"Who's stripping?" Kurt stood at the entrance, dressed and ready to train. Cheryl smiled
brightly.
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26. "Oh, I was just asking Logan if he-" Her mouth was clamped shut by Logan's hand. She
glared up at him, and he glared back.
"Shut. Up." He removed his hand from her lips. She breathed in deep.
"But he has a different outfit!" Kurt looked over his uniform before raising an eyebrow in
question. He looked over Cheryl's new outfit.
"Nice uniform!" He gave her two thumbs up. She giggled and smiled in return. Her eyes
leered up at her teacher.
"See, someone likes my uniform." He responded with the usual grumbling under his breath.
With tension riding high on his back, he stood between them, arms crossed over his built
chest.
"Alright, say hi to your new partner." Cheryl and Kurt looked at each other before cheering
in sync.
"Awesome!"
"Enough! Now get ready, we're going to be here for a while." Logan turned and walked up
to the control room. The blue fuzzy dude grinned over at his new partner.
"Wow, can you believe it? We're going to be working together." She didn't have the chance
to respond, as the room came to life. Logan turned on the intercom.
"Alright, the idea of the session is to dodge. You two will be the medical unit in battle.
We're practicing your tumbling skills today. So, Elf, you'll be teleporting around the area.
Lil' Fang, as soon as you're feet touch the ground, you'll tumble away. And don't you start
yappin' about how easy this sounds. Alright, start." The first few tries were awkward to say
the least. Both Nightcrawler and Vamp tried to find different ways to teleport together to
make it easier. Nothing worked. After teleporting, she would either loose her balance and
fall, or completely wipe out on a flip from being disoriented. They repeated this for hours,
until she finally made a successful tumble. She landed, on one bended knee, her arms
stretched high in triumph.
"VIVA LA POOF!" Logan slapped his forehead. The students laughed and played during the
rest of the session. Cheryl tried to do a summersault in the air, but failed miserably. The
day ended, and they all headed for dinner. The two teenagers talked about the training
with vigor, all the while the teachers talking amongst themselves. Logan kept looking back
at the small girl waving her utensils around with enthusiasm. He was surprised, maybe she
could actually learn something. The table diffused, everyone headed to their rooms. Cheryl
looked in her mirror and took a step back. Her eyes were burning red.
"Wow, I guess it took more out of me then I thought." She undressed and jumped in bed,
passing out on impact.
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27. Chapter 6
The days went by for two weeks with the same routine. Cheryl went to the Lab every
morning at nine to work out the fine tuning on her powers. After lunch she would make her
way to the Danger Room to work more on dodging techniques. Her powers were advancing
quite nicely. She was able to gain more control over blood properties, that is separate it
into two piles, one redder, the other more yellow. Her density control became better, she
was able to keep the knife and ball shapes. However, the knife turned out to be more of a
beating stick. Every time she would make one, she would test the sharpness on Wolverine,
who only looked at her like she was crazy. That's it, he wouldn‟t even bruise. Every
morning, she rose with the tide to surf for a good four hours before returning to the
mansion. However, one morning, she arrived to the white tip of blue froth rolling in with
the oceans beautiful bestial majesty. The waves called to her. Who was she to ignore such
a request?
It was ten o'clock when she walked into the lab. Hank sat at one of the tables, going over
the samples she was supposed to look at.
"So," he started, not missing a beat from the research in front of him. "Where were you?"
She broke out into a huge grin.
"Oh Man! The waves were so perfect, they called out to me, spoke to my very soul…" He
rose from his seat and walked over to her, extending a thick manila folder in his paw.
"Just like the samples on the table, I'm sure." She grumbled under her breath, stomping
her feet as she walked over to the table. She worked diligently up to the time when she
would be going to train with Logan, if Beast hadn't told her to keep working.
"You took time out of my day to surf-"
"Hey, the waves begged me to stay."
"So you're staying until the work is finished." She stayed for another hour before Hank
smiled.
"Thank you, Cheryl. Now you may run." She stuck out her tongue as she ran for dear life.
He sat there, hoping to god she didn't die from biting off her tongue, or Logan. By the time
she was out of the dressing room and to the main doors, she forgot to go through the back.
The doors opened before her, and there was the Wolverine, in all his perpetual rage.
Cheryl smiled at him, eyes wide, and hoping she would be able to run again if she needed
to.
"Hi Logan." His eyes narrowed, focusing their gaze on her. She felt a slight shiver run up
her back. Was he cleaving my soul just now, she thought.
"Where were you?"
"Nice to see you too."
"Where. Were. You." His eyes bored down deep into her brain, she couldn't look away.
"Uh…Beast kept me." Logan raised an eyebrow.
"Why did he do that?" She stood still for a second, her lips started to move but no sound
could be heard. When did he have such blue eyes?
"I, uh… I was…. Um…." She blinked a few times before nodding her head down and looking
at her slipper toed feet.
"I was late," she said. "Going to my lessons with Beast. I was late. So…" Wolverine
sighed.
"So he kept you for the full session." He rubbed the bridge of his nose and let out a gruff
noise.
"Great, well, let‟s finish it up here. Get out there and help your partner." He walked off,
leaving a very confused Cheryl. Why was she so suddenly interested in her shoe? Kurt
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28. snickered at her. She lifted her head and cocked her hip to the side, pushing the blue eyes
to side for later inspection.
"What about you Poof Man? You've been late before." He snickered again.
"But not like that! Admit it, you're just a lazy surfer!"
"Hey!" She snapped. "Don't dis the surfing." They finished the rest of the session with no
hitches. Logan left grumbling under his breath. Cheryl however, felt disappointed. She
changed and started wandering around the institute. A place so big had to have something
going on, right? Her feet continued to move until she found herself in the entertainment
room. It was a pretty decent sized room for the large screen TV, several game consoles,
two cabinets full of games and movies, and the large plush couch, that could easily be
turned into a bed. Sitting right in the middle of the couch, slouched so his chin was
touching his chest, was Evan, remote in hand. He flipped through the channels again as
Cheryl plopped down next to him. He glanced at her then back to the screen. She sighed
heavily as she twiddled her thumbs.
"I'm bored." Evan looked over at her.
"Didn't you just come out of training?"
"Yup."
"With Logan?"
"Oh yeah." She stared at her thumbs as she started to thumb wrestle herself. He stared at
her for a minute. The girl was obviously crazy.
"You were just in training…"
"But I'm bored!" She pinned one of her thumbs.
"Aha! I got you!" The thumb escaped from under her grasp. "Ooo, you're good…" She
stopped and looked over at Evan. He stopped flipping to stare at her like he was wondering
when the second head grew. She smiled broadly as an idea popped up.
"Wanna play a game?" Her smile quirked evilly at him. He twitched at the action.
"Sure…?" Kurt poofed in above them, excited as he could be after exhaustion.
"A game? Really?" The door opened behind them. Rogue entered expecting Evan to be
flipping channels, instead she found Evan and Kurt staring at Cheryl.
"What's goin' on?" Kurt jumped over the couch to greet his sister.
"Ve're goin' to play a game!" Rogue pushed her brother aside and looked at Cheryl. She
had a glint in her eye that spoke of trouble and fun.
"What is it, sugar?"
"Let's play Frisbee tag!" The three looked at her, trying to figure out what “frisbee tag”
was.
"I have heard of frisbee," said Kurt. "And tag, but not frisbee tag." Cheryl smiled her
cherry red grin.
"If you've got frisbees I can show you how to play frisbee tag." They headed out to the
backyard. Several of the other students looked at the strange group collected together as
they passed by the halls. They reached the back door when they heard a very familiar
voice.
"Hey guys!" They looked at the doorway to find their resident Cajun. Cheryl was more than
happy to recruit another friend for the slaughter.
"What are you guys‟ doin'…hey! What do you think you're doing?" She looped her arm
though his and started dragging him outside.
"You're coming to play with us." They walked to the edge of the woods, sending Kurt to get
the frisbees.
"We'll need three of them. Find green one‟s if you can!" Gambit quirked an eyebrow.
"So, what are we doin' here, peti?"
"I'll tell you in a minute." Kurt teleported back with three green frisbees.
"This is what you do." She took one of the frisbees, bent it to make sure it could take some
damage, and threw it at Evan. It hit him right in the rib.
"Hey! That hurt!"
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29. "Then don't get hit! Let me explain. Think of it like tag, only instead of running all over the
place, you throw a frisbee instead. When you have a frisbee you can't move until you throw
it. When it‟s coming at you, you can catch it and throw it back, or wait till it lands then
throw it." Kurt raised his hand. "Yes Kurt?"
"How do ve win?" She turned her eyes to the side and pursed her lips, like she was really
thinking.
"The one with the most targets, that's you hitting someone else, wins. Alright are we
ready, let's go-"
"Wait a minute, peti." She groaned as she looked at her fellow red-eyed person.
"What now?"
"Just a question, 'kay? What about our powers? There have to be limits right?" He looked
at Kurt as he spoke the last sentence. The fuzzy dude looked shocked.
"What?" Gambit held up his hands in defense.
"I'm just sayin', mon ami, that you might have more of an advantage that the rest of us."
Cheryl cut Kurt off before he could respond.
"Alright, alright. You are only allowed to use your powers within a…ten foot…radius…?"
They stared at her.
"Ten…feet. How are we supposed to do anything in ten feet?"
"Figure it out." Gambit peered over at Rogue and grinned.
"Are you going to join us, cher?" She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Ah'm not playin'." He loomed over her, the grin still pulled lazily across his face.
"You scared, cher? Don't worry, I be gentle." She pushed him back and thrust her finger
into his chest.
"Ah can kick yer sorry ass any time swamp rat!" Cheryl smiled.
"Alright, lovebirds. Let's get playin!" Rogue twitched at the term but followed on her
threat. The hours went by in the forest. The group tried their best to tag Cheryl but
nothing could really get at the veteran. Kurt tried several times to tag people by teleporting
ten feet at a time. That plan failed. Spike had the brilliant idea to block a frisbee by
shooting it with a spike. It ended up with a hole in the middle and nailed to the trunk of a
tree. Gambit saw this and thought he could do better, so the next time someone tried to
tag him he threw a charged card at it. Unfortunately, he charged it too much, leaving what
was left of the frisbee to crumble to the ground in charred pieces. Rogue got a hold on
Gambit and tried the same trick. This time, the frisbee didn‟t break into as many pieces.
Finally when everyone was awake, exhausted, and just ready to fall down, Cheryl tallied
down the points of who hit or missed.
"Okay…seeing how I'm the only one that was not hit, and didn't break a frisbee."
"Or me!"
"Or Kurt, and I was the only one to not use my powers, so I win! Yay!" Evan looked up at
the girl like she was just asking for something bad to happen.
"Damn man, this is almost like training." Cheryl still smiled brightly, barely out of breath.
"Ah, this is nothin'. I could do this easily." The four stopped to look at her. Was she really
thinking clearly about what she was saying or just hallucinating from the absurd amount of
exercise. Kurt burst out laughing.
"Yah right! I bet you couldn't do it for two weeks." She raised her eyebrow at the
challenge.
"Oh really?" He grinned back.
"Yah really."
"Name your terms." The other three of the group leaned in closer.
"Two weeks of double training with Logan." The other three grimaced. They couldn't
imagine the agony of going a second round with Logan in one day…ever! Cheryl simply
grinned.
"You are so on." They shook hands and headed back to the mansion. None of them really
believed that she was going to take the bet, but come the next day…
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30. "You want to do what?" Logan didn't believe what he was hearing. The petite strawberry
blonde surfer just asked if she could go around for another training session.
"Why?" She merely smiled and shrugged.
"I just want to better myself, you know?" He lifted an eyebrow. Did she turn into a
cheerleader? Did he actually believer her? Fuck no! But if she wanted to be worked to the
bone, he wasn't going to deny her.
"Alright. Hey, Elf, you can go. Little Fang, we're going over the system again. Level four
this time." Cheryl winked as Kurt exited. Later that day, the other three nearly choked on
their food. Evan tried to think of the torture she must be putting herself through.
"She did it?!?" Kurt nodded solemnly.
"Yah. She just smiled and winked at me." Gambit laid a hand above his head and sighed
heavily.
"Oh! My poor petit!" Rogue smacked him upside the head.
"Shut up, swamp rat." He grinned back at her.
"Yes, Mistress." He readied himself for another hit on the head until she smacked him in
the stomach. The rest of them laughed and continued with their lunch. No one saw Cheryl
for the rest of the day until dinner. She seemed out of breath and her eyes were brighter
but everything seemed fine. After dinner, Rogue caught her before she went to bed.
"You're really goin' though with this?" asked Rogue. Cheryl sniffed at her. The southern
belle smelled sweet with a hint of bitterness. It smelled like… She took out her needle and
pricked her friend. Rogue's eyes widened, her breath caught in her throat.
"No! Don't eat-"
"Chocolate!" The surfer chic grinned broadly. "And not the cheap stuff they put on sale
during sugar holidays. What?" Rogue looked at the girl, jaw reaching the floor.
"It didn't hurt you?" Cheryl laughed.
"Please! Your powers only work on your skin. Honestly! Don't question the genius!" She
turned on her heel and exited to her room. Down the hallway, Magma and Cannonball
rubbed their arms where Cheryl pricked them.
The next morning, Cheryl looked at the time and thought about sleeping in. Her hand came
up and slapped her across the face.
"What the hell was I thinking?" She rolled out of bed and got herself ready. Her feet
trudged forward. She was more tired than usual, which would seem odd if she was awake.
As she entered the kitchen, she collided with something big and hard.
"Careful, little one." It had a Russian accent and patted her on the head. She sniffed the
air. Bitter and nutty, she smelled it before. It smelled like…Columbia… COFFEE! Out of
reflex, she pricked the thing in front of her. The thing didn't flinch so much as question the
drawing of blood. Cheryl took a sip.
"Ah…Columbian Supreme…with half & half." She cranked her head all the way back to look
up and smiled.
"Hi, I haven't met you before."
"I am Piotr, but you may call me Colossus. And you little one?" She took another sip.
"I'm Cheryl, I'm new here. By the way, you taste great."
"Thank you?" She looked at the clock on wall and gasped.
"I'm sorry, I have to go or I'll miss the tide." The blood formed into a ball which she
swallowed whole. Cheryl smiled again at the big Russian.
"Thanks again Columbia." She walked past. Piotr followed her.
"It is Colossus." They stopped at the back door to the garage. She smiled up at the guy
twice her size.
"I know." She exited the house and drove off to the coming tide. At eight o'clock she
returned to find Logan reading the paper with his miniscule breakfast, which she tried
stealing…again, and failed…again. She‟d get that breakfast someday. After eating,
showering, and dressing she went to study with Hank until noon. After a half-hour lunch
Cheryl walked into the Danger Room ready for a full scale, head on workout with the drill
Vampire in Bayville
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December 6, 2013
