Professor Xavier smiled up at him,a hint of pain in his cloudy blue eyes."Hello,Bob.I thought I sensed you."He looked past him curiously,subtly searching the room."Logan's not here?"

"He just left."

"Oh?"

"Yes.He's in London."

Bob sensed the shock,even through the constant thrumming undercurrent of Xavier's psychic powers.It didn't show on his face,though,not really."England?"

"Yep.I just teleported him there."

"Voluntarily?"

Xavier wasn't quite sure what to think of him.He knew he was inhuman,knew he was dangerous,and yet knew he didn't mean them any harm (and,if he did,what could they do about it?).

Bob grinned,almost laughing."Yeah.He remembered being in London and finding a club full of dead bodies,and he wanted to investigate it,see if he could get some memories back."

"Ah,I see."He paused,looking troubled."He never told us."

"No.You know how he is,though."

Xavier nodded,glancing down at the floor.He was bothered by the fact that Logan continued to treat them like familiar strangers,assuming that,by now,they should have at least a bit of his trust.But it didn't work that way:Logan didn't really trust him either,but he had no choice since Bob knew so much about him."Give him time,"Bob advised."Logan doesn't accept kindness easily."

He felt a small surge of anger from Xavier,and knew that he had phrased it wrong."It is not just kindness,Bob.Logan belongs here,whether he realizes it or not."

"Or Scott."

"Or Scott,"he agreed wryly.

After a moment,he told Xavier,"Home is a dangerous word and concept to Logan.The few times he had one in his life... well,my sense is that things turned out quite badly.If it was just him that was hurt,it might not be,but it was never that way.He's afraid to get close to people because he's afraid of betrayal and afraid of getting hurt,getting hurt by people dying and it all being his fault.Logan will never admit it-and please don't tell him I told you-but his greatest fear is helplessness.That he will be helpless to stop whatever it is that's going to happen."He didn't add "It's happened before and he doesn't want to see it happen again" because Xavier didn't need to know that.He may have already guessed that part anyways.

Xavier nodded sagely,almost forgetting how much it hurt to be around him."I've gotten that sense from him,when things seem to be going wrong.There seems to be as much fear as rage."Xavier then gave him an odd look,and asked,"You dyed your hair?"

He ran a hand through his hair,pulling strands down into his sight range for viewing.They looked more gold than usual, not blonde but positively gilded."Crud,"he muttered,willing the darker bits back.He liked to have a mix of brunette and gold:he thought the contrast was flattering for his skin tone.

Xavier gave him the oddest look for that.In retrospect,he probably wasn't used to people changing their hair color by thinking about it."You can will your hair color?"The Professor asked,a little awed.

"Well,yes and no.If I don't pay attention,it can sort of change color on its own."

Xavier continued to give him a curious look,thinking back on his theory that Bob warped reality by sheer force of will.It was a god like power,wasn't it?And even his own body appeared to be mutable...

"It's a demon thing,"Bob quickly lied,trying to short circuit that arc of thought.Xavier didn't know enough about demons to know that was crap,and couldn't read him to find out one way or another.

Xavier knew that too.His look was dubious as he frowned in thought,and made a mental to ask Logan about it when he got back.Bob already knew what he'd say.With a disgusted snort,he'd say,"It's just a Bob thing.Bob's weird."

And he could never argue with that.But the less Xavier knew that,the more comfortable he was being around him.

Logan wasn't the only one with secrets.It was just Bob's abilities that let him keep his for as long as he wished.

Logan glowered at the six foot tall,two hundred pound skinheaded dork,and wondered how much damage he could get away with doing to him before the police were called.

The doorman was very muscular,but in that phony 'I spend all my free time at the gym' sort of way,his thick body enhanced by a grey t-shirt and khaki cargo pants so tight he looked like an overstuffed sausage casing on the verge of exploding.It looked like he had black tribal tattoos on his shaved scalp,but even from here,in this crowd reeking of cigarettes and nervous anticipation,Brut and Sunflowers and hair spray,Logan could smell that they were fake stick on tattoos.The chemical smell was a dead giveaway:real tattoos only smelled of the inks used,with a small infusion of blood.

His small brown eyes seemed to get lost in the doughy round mass of his face,but the contempt came right through to Logan."I ain't some pathetic trendoid looking for a safe cheap thrill,bub-I just need to see if the inside of the place looks familiar.Then I'm the fuck out of here."

But the goon didn't even seem to hear him over the throbbing bass bleeding from the closed doors of the club."Are those real?"He asked,reaching out to touch his sideburns.

Logan grabbed his thick wrist before he could,and then snapped his head forward,giving the idiot doorman a vicious headbutt that knocked him cold instantly.He didn't fall more than flop down on his belly like a violently beached whale, and Logan was sort of disappointed he didn't get to hurt him just a little more.

Although the crowd behind him was stunned into silence (he seemed to be doing that a lot lately),he didn't bother to look behind him as he stepped over the bouncer and headed through the red painted doors into the club with the really unfortunate name of Spank.

The techno music was loud enough to kill small mammals,and even Logan felt like he had been briefly stunned,his eardrums threatening to shatter like Legion was screeching at him again.But it was better than looking at the place: with its colored gel lighting and teak paneling,its stripper stage and an old fashioned brass trimmed bar,it looked like a pub after its abduction and reinstallation by the horny adolescent aliens with the bad sense of hearing.

That might explain the patrons too.Mostly men in shirtsleeves with skewed ties,as if they came here straight from work at the cubicle farms,they all seemed rapt by their watery drinks and the women wandering the club,dressed as bizarro headmasters with the wardrobe addition of stilettos and miniskirts,wielding large rulers that would have made the most militant nun green with envy.

Oh man,he was going to need to take another shower.This was sleazy as well as sad.

As if to prove that,the stripper gyrating on the small stage was dressed as a schoolgirl in pigtails,with an extremely short skirt and some major league breast implants peeking out of a lacey white bra,just visible under the shirt she was slowly peeling off.The lustful catcalls of the men grouped around the small stage like worshipers at a religious sacrifice were almost as loud as the speaker blowing techno music overhead.This was just pathetic.What did he think he was going to find here again?Reasons he shouldn't feel sorry for himself?

The club was not familiar,just annoying,and just as he made up his mind to leave (what a mistake),he felt someone hit him in the ass really hard."You are blocking the aisle,boy,"a woman said,in a mock stentorian voice.

He turned around,and found himself facing a stern faced woman wearing fake wire rim glasses (it had no lenses),her straw colored blonde hair done up in a severe librarian's top knot,smacking one of those long,reinforced rulers in a threatening  manner against her palm."I ain't one of your pathetic customers,doll,I wandered in here by mistake.I'm goin' now."

"We do not tolerate back talk,"she said,still playing her role.She whipped that ruler again,like she intended to smack him with it again,but he caught it and broke it into several pieces with a single squeeze of his hand.She looked absolutely horrified,and finally broke character." 'ey,you bastard,if I go through more than five of these it comes out of my paycheck!"

"Then don't hit me unless you mean it,"he snapped back,walking past her and shoving his way through the crowd to the door.

The bouncer was still unconscious outside,but the crowd that continued to step over him didn't seem to be too concerned about it.Some of them must have recognized him as the guy who put the bouncer down,though,because this crowd seemed to part for him easily.

He started wandering down the dark streets of London,wondering what he was going to do now.This was completely stupid;he didn't remember anything else,he had no game plan.He went in completely blind,just because he needed to get out of Xavier's before he killed someone.

He thought he was moving towards the heart of the city,but he really didn't know.Shuttered,grimy shops gave way to blocks of row house,depressing enough alone in their uniformity,but all seemed to be dirt smeared and crumbling in the same way,like identical rotting teeth.And even though the pedestrian traffic had thinned to zero,he got a sense for a while that he was being watched and followed.He found himself hoping that some dumb ass would try and mug him-that would burn off some steam,and brighten the evening-but he must have chickened out,because soon he seemed to disappear.

He almost went for his cell phone,but he couldn't admit to Bob this was a mistake,not yet.He had to give it a chance, see if anything came back along the way.He searched his pockets for a cigar,and felt the cold,tiny figure of the elephant in his front pocket.He belatedly wondered exactly what Bob meant by "limits the effect of entropy in a very small area".
Entropy had never been a problem with him.But,if he thought about it,he supposed he could use all the luck he could get.

**

Colonel Gene Harris nodded,taking the photo of Wolverine back from the bartender."Haven't seen him since?"

The man shook his head,making his thinning,greasy strands of grey hair flop around his waxy scalp like soggy pasta."I don't think he's a real sociable type of guy."

"That's an understatement,"Harris noted,tucking the photo back in his coat pocket.

He was happy to leave the grim honky tonk bar,and had to admit the thought of a Wolverine hunt had brought to mind images of chasing that bastard to ground,not canvassing seedy bars for any sign of him.

Once outside,he paused by his SUV to light up a cigarette.Okay,so,in four hours he had hit twenty bars,and twelve had been visited by Logan within the last two weeks or so-three bartenders weren't completely sure.So he was in the area, presumably,but none of the scout teams had reported positive on a visual.They were all dressed in civilian clothes too, in case Logan spotted them first,but so far he was either hiding,or he hadn't started his drinking binge for the night.But it was starting to get late;if he wanted to attempt to get sloshed,he was running behind.

He was joined at the black truck by Major David Delaney,who had been checking out a bar on the next block over.He was a string bean of a man,tall and lanky,with quick growing thick black hair that never seemed to hold a haircut longer than two days,even though,conversely,he could not grow a beard on his baby face to save his life.Delaney looked uncomfortable in his civilian casual wardrobe of jeans,a button down tan shirt,and black canvas jacket,but Delaney was one of those men who always looked vaguely uncomfortable,no matter the place or what he was wearing,like his underwear was constantly riding up on him."Nothing?"Harris asked,exhaling a plume of cigarette smoke into the still, unseasonably warm night air.

Delaney shook his head,leaning against the back of the truck."He hadn't even been there,according to the bartender. This sucks. Do you think Logan was tipped off?"

"I don't see how."But he had thought that,hadn't he?

He had the radio tuned to the police band frequency,listening for any mention of a bar fight,but so far nothing was happening beyond your average domestic disturbances and gunshots fired.

Well,how many more bars did they have to hit in the area?Thirty?Who knew this part of Upstate New York had so many bars?

"Are you the guys looking for Wolverine?"A female voice asked,from out of a darkened alley across from them.

With astonishingly good reflexes,Delaney drew his sidearm and aimed it in the direction of the voice before she sauntered out of the mouth of the alley.It was a petite,good looking woman with shoulder length honey blonde hair, wearing a form fitting crimson dress and painfully high heeled shoes in a matching shade of blood red,and seeing the Walther PPK in Delaney's hand only made her laugh.

"You can put that away,sugar,"she drawled casually."It won't do you any good anyways."

Her make up was a little restrained for a hooker,but certainly she had the hip swinging walk down pat.Delaney didn't lower the gun,and Harris eyed her up and down-there was nowhere for her to hide a weapon with a dress that tight and tiny:she wasn't even carrying a purse."Who wants to know?"

"Someone who wants that son of a bitch dead too."

"What did he do to you,honey?"

She scowled at the use of the word honey."He helped kill a bunch of my friends.Well,okay,not friends,but people who owe me money,and he trashed my favorite club.Either way,that's just unforgiveable."

"And we're just supposed to believe this?"Delaney asked scornfully."You could be one of his mutant buddies for all we know."

Harris didn't bother to add he wasn't sure Logan had any friends,as that would be counterproductive.

The blonde woman glared at them both,and suddenly her face changed:her azure eyes became yellow,while her brow seemed to come forward,wrinkle and making her eyebrows disappear in the folds of flesh,while her perfect teeth became suddenly sharp and jagged,as if she had too many for so small a mouth."Do I look like a mutant to you?"She asked sarcastically.

Delaney looked horrified,and seemed to be about to answer in the affirmative,when Harris reached across and lowered his weapon for him."Put that away,"he ordered."She's a vampire-it won't do anything but annoy her."

"A vampire?"Delaney asked in shock,obviously hoping he was kidding.

But he wasn't-far from it-and the woman smiled,her face reverting from vampire to normal cherubic human face."I'm glad you're not as dumb as you look."

He gave her a hard smile,but he didn't mean it.If she was willing to help him find Wolverine,well,terrific.

But even he wasn't stupid enough to completely trust a demon.

**

It was the third night in a row he could not sleep,and he knew if it kept up he'd have to talk to his doctor about it.But when your doctor was your fiancee,things got a little weird.

Scott listened carefully at the door before stepping out into the darkened hallway,bare feet quiet on the wooden floor. Now he knew he had heard something,and he was sure it wasn't Logan,because he was (thankfully) gone.The bad news was Bob came to deliver that information,but even though Xavier invited him to stay for a bit,he said he had business in California,and Scott couldn't say he was unhappy to have Logan-and now bothersome Bob-gone.

Of course,the fact that Logan had trusted Bob and not them with a memory of his past seemed to bother everyone,but not him.That was just typical of Logan,wasn't it?After all they had done for him,he remained distrustful.Ungrateful bastard.

Scott was surprised at Bob's claim that Logan didn't kill all those people.Maybe Bob was protecting Logan,but why? Because Bob was a mysterious loon with his own agenda.And,sexually hyperactive girlfriend aside,he just bet Bob had some kind of crush on Logan,and wasn't that a hilarious thought?But that just begged the question why a guy as good looking as Bob didn't have better taste,or at least aim higher.The world was too strange by half.

Padding down the hall,he thought he saw the door to one of the girl's rooms ajar,and he had a sinking feeling who had snuck out this time.Carefully,he peeked inside,and confirmed it:Rogue's room.And she was obviously gone.

She'd just gotten past the 'parole' she'd been put on for the last time she had sneaked out in the middle of the night. That girl was trouble,and since she had absorbed Logan twice,he was fully prepared to blame him for it.

But as he stood in the open door of the dark room,he pondered what he thought he had heard.It was a blunt noise like a door closing,but not in the mansion,not that close,and not wooden.It was like...a car door.

Oh no,she didn't.She better not have.

Scott rushed to the garage,which still had low level emergency lighting on even at this time of night,and his suspicions were confirmed:Rogue had taken a car.Her car thieving ways continued.

All the way back to his room,he muttered to himself,"This is Logan's fault."It really didn't matter if it was or wasn't,it was just nice to blame Logan for something.But he was pretty sure Rogue had never stolen a car before Logan- coincidence?Of course,of things Logan was capable of doing,car theft was probably the best you could hope for.

He dressed quickly and quietly,trying not to wake Jean,and he managed not to:at least she was a pretty heavy sleeper.
It wasn't that he wasn't sympathetic to kids sneaking out,he understood (well,in theory-when he was their age,he was trying to figure out a way to open his eyes without blowing stuff up),but car theft was an obvious crossing of the line.It didn't matter that she was "just borrowing it"-they'd had this lecture before.She was in so much trouble this time even he couldn't quite believe it.

When he got in his car and started the engine,he pulled something about the size and shape of a palm pilot out of the glove compartment,but it was not a PDA.It was a little sensor gadget,with GPS technology,that read the tracking devices in each of the vehicles here on the grounds.It was a safety measure,in case something happened to someone on the outside,but this also allowed them to find them if they ever got stolen (his bike-now Logan's bike-used to have one, but Logan had somehow found it and removed it).And now,according to it,the car Rogue had taken was about eleven miles away,in the nearest 'big' town,and for some reason he thought the street location sounded familiar.He sat there in his dark car,the interior only lit by the engine lights,and tried to recall where he'd heard the address before.

He was pretty sure there was a clothing shop on Spalding Avenue that Storm liked to go to,but he knew it wouldn't be open this late.So what else-

-oh shit,a bar.He had to be wrong,he had to be.

If he wasn't..."Oh Logan,I'm gonna kill you for this,"he promised,throwing the scanner on the passenger seat and gunning the engine.

**

This place obviously skewed young,as there didn't appear to be anyone over twenty five in the small crowd that dispersed like a cloud of dandelion fluff,drifting off to cars so nice they had to belong to their parents.He was half way across the dark lot,no one giving his 'weird glasses' a second glance (well,that confirmed they were in no shape to drive),when he saw a figure staggering out of the green neon limned doorway,almost collapsing under the weight of a second person partially draped over them.Then he could hear the voice of a woman with a very nasal Long Island accent,speaking in a loud and slurred manner as if extremely drunk:"-so then I said I said I don want no trouble, you know,but then that bitch,you know the one I'm talkin' about,with the bad perm and the big ass-"

Scott had moved a foot closer when he realized it was Rogue rambling on in a drunken manner;it was Kitty struggling to hold her up.

"What the hell,"he exclaimed,racing to her side to help her before they both collapsed in a heap in front of the club. "How did she get drunk so fast?"But as soon as he asked,he knew the answer.

Kitty,a slight brunette with large brown eyes,gave him a very guilty look."It was an accident,Mr. Summers,but I'm glad you're here.I never realized she's so heavy-or I'm so weak."

He took the burden of Rogue off of her,careful not to touch any of Rogue's skin,but there wasn't much of that exposed. At least she'd had the sense to sneak out with her gloves and a long sleeved duster on,in spite of the warmth of the night.Rogue didn't seem to notice he was holding her up instead of Kitty.Her monologue went on non-stop."-but since when was that my fuckin' fault?I didn't know he was her ex-husband,it wasn't like he had a tag stamped on his ass 'Kimber's Property-Keep your skanky hands off'-"

"What is she talking about?"He asked.

Kitty shrugged helplessly."We were in the bathroom,and this drunk woman just barreled in,and she collided with us.I phased out,so she went right through me,but I didn't grab Rogue in time,and they made contact.Not for long,but just long enough for Rogue to pick up her drunkenness and her monologue."

"I was afraid of that.How's the woman?"

"She seemed a little stunned,and forgot what she was saying,but wasn't sober enough to know what happened."

"Well,thank goodness for small favors."