Dear Scott:

I feel strange calling you ‘Scott’ when I don’t know you, but I think it would be stranger to call you ‘Mr. Summers’ when you’re my cousin. That’s right, we’re cousins! I have enclosed a letter for your brother Alex, since I couldn‘t find a current address for him. I also enclosed a disk that details how you and I are related, along with something else I‘ll go into later.

Mainly, I wanted to let you and Alex know that you actually have relatives on the Summers’ side. You were the only Summers’ relatives, other than my dad, that I could find. If you are aware of any others, I would appreciate it if you would let me know.

Plus, I was hoping you could help me fill out a family medical history thing. That’s why I have enclosed a self-addressed stamped envelope with a small form that I made up. Could you let me know of any genetic problems, abnormalities or diseases I should be aware of?

I really appreciate your time.

Your California Cousin,

Buffy Summers

Scott finished re-reading the crumpled page. In any other family, it would have been an amusing, but not serious, letter. But the Summers’ family had a history of ’genetic abnormalities’. Anyone related to him would automatically be under scrutiny for the mutant ’X’ gene. The fact that she was looking for information on genetic differences in the Summers’ family rang alarms on top of alarms.

“So, what do we know?”

Jean leaned forward. “Well, as far as we can tell, she is not an impostor. When your dad came back to Earth, Scott, and looked up the family, he only looked for those family members that he could remember. Apparently, he didn’t even know the California Summers existed. But all the data on the disk she sent has been corroborated. Birth certificates, school records, etc. Unless it is a very thorough deception, I think this is for real.”

Kitty coughed. “On the matter of school records - - Our straight-laced Mr. Uptight here has a juvenile delinquent for a cousin. She was kicked out of her school in L.A. The authorities believed that she burned down the school’s gym, although they never proved it, and she and her mother moved to the charming little town of Sunnydale in an attempt to find a school that would take her. Things seemed quieter for the first year, except for the odd thing here and there.”

“The fire happened after a downturn in her school marks.” Ororo spoke evenly, only a small accent showing that English was not her first language. “Authorities believed that she had fallen into ‘bad company’. However, Buffy was fifteen when these events occurred. As we know, the emergence of mutant abilities causes great stress in adolescents. This may be the real reason for her declining grades. In addition, the fire may have been the result of a burst of mutant power, or simply the result of her own frustration with her abilities.”

“Or,” Kitty replied with a grimace, “it could just be a reaction to her name. I mean, ‘Buffy’? What was her mother thinking? It‘d be enough to drive me to arson.” After a look from Ororo, the chuckles stopped and the smiles were mostly hidden, even as Kitty Pryde continued.

“Well, the next major event occurred in Sunnydale when she was accused of the murder of a young woman: ‘Kendra’, no other name. She was also expelled at that time. It appears she was in the room with the body at the time of discovery and that the police arrested her at the urging of the principal. The guy really didn’t like her. You wouldn’t believe what he wrote in her records. Anyway, the charges were dropped after several other people came forward and testified that she wasn’t even in the room when they were attacked. The police believe a gang broke in looking for stuff to convert to quick cash.”

“What kinds of things did the principal write in her records?” Jean was curious.

“That she was a troublemaker - no reasons. That she was too athletic, if that could count as a reason. And too independent. You have to kind of read between the lines. Like - um - apparently, she went a date with one of the athletes. One who was winning meets; getting attention for the school. That sort of thing. Anyway, from the sounds of it, he tried to ‘push’ her into something she didn’t want and she hit him to get him to stop. She was the one who got into trouble, not the guy.”

“That’s . . . But that‘s . . .”

“Yeah. It seems to be that kind of place.” Kitty’s disgust at the school principal’s lack of ethics was clear.

“Then, just this past month, something happened. I haven’t been able to get a clear idea from the reports, but something big happened. The most popular reason given seems to be a gas main explosion. But that kind of explosion isn’t consistent with the damage produced. There were also reports for the student’s parents immediately after the event that were - well - basically hysterical. But they are very emphatic that it wasn‘t a gas main explosion. Most have since recanted. Professor,” Kitty turned to Xavier. “What did Cerebro show when you scanned for mutants in the area of Sunnydale?”

Xavier templed his hands in front of his face and, with a disturbed look, spoke. “The area of California that Sunnydale inhabits does not allow probes.” Over the immediate confusion and consternation, he continued, “The area produces a type of ‘static’ that makes it impossible for Cerebro and myself to read anything in that area. At least, from this distance. The situation may be different, closer to the phenomena.”

As he glanced around his semi-circle of students - his children - he noticed Scott’s frown. Long practice at deciphering his chosen heir’s expressions allowed him to discern the distress hidden behind the frown. Attempting to reassure Scott, he stated quietly to him, “There are other places on Earth that produce the same phenomena. Sunnydale is NOT unique. It may have nothing to do with your cousin.”

“Professor, Buffy is a SUMMERS. What are the chances of that?” Xavier smiled at the raised eyebrows and expression on Scott’s face. If his broody child was joking about this, then it wasn’t likely that he would obsess about it.

“Perhaps, Kitty would tell us why she was the only one not surprised by this information.” Xavier had noticed Kitty sitting quietly and thinking about his words as the others had exclaimed or talked. At his voice, she looked up, startled.

“I wasn’t exactly expecting you to say that.” Under the attention of the others, she uncomfortably admitted, “It wasn’t exactly a surprise, either.”

She sighed and continued. “I didn’t want to say anything until I had more information, but Sunnydale appears to have a death rate that is really scary. Even scarier is how well hidden this fact is. There is evidence of a gang of serial killers, but no indication of any curiosity from the feds. The police are remarkably blase about the numbers and types of deaths they see. Either that or they are incredibly stupid. The only reason I was able to get any of this information is because our computers are so much more advanced than the rest of the world’s.” Having a mutant inventor as a friend and former X-Man, plus access to off-world technology assured that. “It seems as if what happens in Sunnydale is ignored by the rest of the world. I had hoped to have more information before I brought it up, but -- “ She shrugged.

“So, basically, we have someone who has a troubled past, comes from a deadly area, and is probably my cousin.” Scott leaned back in his chair and brought his hands up to scrub his face. “Great.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the room.

“Sounds to me like a fun gal. Not something I’d think would apply to one of your relatives.”

The group turned to the man standing in the doorway.

“Logan. You’ve arrived.”

“Roads ain’t nice out there, Chuck. One of you guys do something to make ‘Roro mad?”

“They have done nothing that has annoyed me, Logan. Besides, it is very seldom that my moods affect the weather, anymore.”

He caught her eyes and lifted his hat straight up. Still keeping eye contact, he tilted the Stetson forward and water poured from the various valleys of the battered hat to splatter and pool on the floor. A corner of his mouth turned up at the snickers as he asked, “You sure? ‘Cause I’d hate to think it was me you was mad at, Darlin’.”

Ororo raised an amused eyebrow, entering the game.

“I have nothing to do with the storm. Perhaps it is someone else - a higher authority - that you need worry about. Or, perhaps, it is your conscience you should worry about. Feeling a bit guilty, are you?”

The snickers turned to laughter and one or two “Ooohh”s at Ororo and Logan’s play. As Logan resettled his damp hat, he tilted it an extra bit in acknowledgement of the look of gratitude Xavier gave him before he replied.

“Now, Darlin’, I’ve been good. But if I’m in trouble with the Big Boss, I might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. Wanna help me find something to feel real guilty about?”

“Logan!” Not expecting the last comment or the lecherous grin and waggling eyebrows, Ororo blushed, then joined the laughter that had exploded at her startlement.

Xavier felt the release of tensions that had been building, not only through the body language of his pupils, but in the slight easing of pressure on his mental shields. Both he and Jean silently exchanged their relief as everyone resettled. Jean, with a flickering of her eyes, pointed out how the laughter had released the frown lines that had gathered on her husband’s face. Xavier mentally nodded in agreement.

“Kitty.” The remaining laughter died down, although most retained their smile.

“If you would continue to research the town, it would be appreciated. Buffy and her friend will arrive tomorrow and we wish to avoid as many nasty surprises as possible. There are still some things for the rest of us to do to prepare for their arrival. But first, dinner.”

***

Scott stood looking out at the thunder and rain. Jean, approaching from his side, noticed the frown was back. Without even looking, he lifted his arm and she nestled against his side. When he spoke, his voice was firm and factual.

“It just . . . There are too many coincidences: a letter announcing a long-lost cousin, a mysterious town with far-too-many murders, an area Cerebro can’t read. We have so many enemies that would love a chance to get someone in here where they could sabotage us from the - -”

“Scott.”

He looked down into her knowing face and, looking back out at the rain, sighed. When he spoke this time, his voice was softer and the longing vibrated in it.

“I want her to be my cousin.”

Jean put both arms around him.

“Her letter sounds bright, and cheerful, and . . . and alive. Going by her letter, she seems like someone I’d like to meet.”

There was silence for a bit, before Scott continued.

“I think I see family differently than others. I think, being raised in the orphanage makes me realize the value of family more than most. It is so important and you don’t realize how important it is until it’s gone. When I was growing up there, I would imagine a huge family waiting for me, with . . . “ He took a breath. “When I got this letter, it was like - like a part of that dream . . .“ His voice broke. Jean leaned into him, tightened her grip and flooded their bond with wordless support.

They continued to watch the rain, holding on to each other.

“I -- I just really want her to be my cousin.”

And echoing in the words were the dreams of the child Scott had once been.

Meanwhile, Kitty stared out at the storm from the mansion’s kitchen.

“Pum’kin? Thought you were doing your computer stuff.”

Kitty held up a mug to Logan.

“Coffee,” was her explanation.

Then a giggle, and, “Pumpkin? You have called me that for years. You must be in a good mood tonight.”

A slight snort was Logan’s non-answer as he grabbed a mug of coffee as well, before joining her at the windows.

“You’re not.” At her look, he elaborated.

“In a good mood. Despite the laugh.”

She sighed.

“I don’t know. I’ve just got a bad feeling. Or I’m going paranoid. I might have just been staring at the death stats for Sunnydale for too long. That town is enough to give anyone the creeps. I just get the feeling something bad is going to happen.”

The lightning flashed.

And upstairs in her attic, Ororo paused in her nightly routine of watering her plants to shiver.

___________

I apologize for the wait. This chapter was much harder to write. I really can not remember what was blamed for the explosion at the school, but I believe I had heard ‘Gas Main Explosion’ before. Hopefully, this is correct.