Note: ~< >~ indicates telepathic conversation

A knock on their door had Willow calling out, “It’s open!”

Scott poked his head inside and grinned.

“I wasn’t worried about it being closed. I was worrying about you guys being decent. Last thing I want is to be accused of ‘peeping’ on my cos.” And his grin grew wider.

It was the mischievous look that caused Buffy to raise her eyebrows.

“Sounds like some personal experience to me. Hmm?”

He laughed. “I spent my teenage years in this school, and so did Jean. But - - Jean was the only girl, and the rest of us weren’t too careful about knocking before entering the room.” Scott shook his head at a memory. “She almost brained me with a shampoo bottle one time when I was in a hurry for the bathroom.” At their laughter, he grinned again. “That was when certain bathrooms were designated ‘Women’ and ‘Men‘.”

One hand came out and assisted Buffy up off the bed.

“Anyway, I thought I’d give you a short tour of the place before dinner.”

“Speaking of that,” Willow piped up, “do you dress up for dinner? Because if you do, we gotta change into something - “

“No, no. I mean, some people do. But others come to dinner in cut-off jeans with holes in them. It’s just your personal style. And you ladies, “ he made an elaborate bow, “are absolute visions that do not need to change anything before gracing us with your presence at dinner.”

Willow turned to Buffy, a flush turning her an attractive pink. “I LIKE your cousin, Buffy!”

Buffy snorted before laughing.

During Buffy’s laughter and Willow’s red-faced giggling fit, Scott heard his wife’s voice.

~<Piling it on, are you? You must be feeling better.>~

~<Come on, Red. You heard the phone call. They were worried FOR us. And this Giles was worried about the girls. It didn’t sound like the voice of an enemy. I think they‘re for real. SOMETHING is going on with them, but - >~

Buffy’s shaking head drew his attention back to them. Still shaking, Buffy accused him, “You’re a flirt, Scott!”

“Not normally, no. But I’m feeling good right now. So, “ he offered an elbow to each of them, “Shall we?”

Buffy took his arm, raised her chin, and in a fake, snooty voice replied. “Yes. Let’s.”

As Scott, laughing, began the tour, Jean gently disengaged her conscious mind from her husband‘s and looked at the Professor, stretching her neck to relieve tension.

“Well, Scott’s taking them on a tour of the mansion. And - “ Jean allowed herself a small grin (Scott -- FLIRTING!!), “He appears to have decided on believing in them.” She forced herself to keep a pleasant look on her face . . . until she saw the knowing expression on the Professor’s. Then she grimaced. “I can’t trust them. I don’t like them. I can’t tell you why, but - - Before we met, I was the one telling Scott to give them a chance and now that I’ve met them . . . “ She raised her hands and grimaced again.

“I have a similar reaction; however, the rest of the X-Men do not. And I believe that that is the answer.”

“Professor?” A disjointed realization crossed her mind that neither she nor the Professor had spoken much during the meeting.

“We are the only telepaths, Jean. Consciously or unconsciously, we depend on our telepathy to give us a ‘feel’ for the people we met. We base our decisions about them on what we receive; even if we are consciously trying not to invade their privacy, unconsciously our minds still evaluate their mental ‘aura’, for lack of a better word.”

He knitted his hands together, the two forefingers up, and tapped his mouth thoughtfully.

“There have been times that I have counted my ability as a hindrance. Wished it gone. As I know you have. It takes an incident like this to make us realize how much a part of us our ability is and how lost we would be without it. I find myself reacting adversely to our guests, simply because I find their very lack of existence on a mental level very - “ He met his ex-student’s eyes and half smiled/half grimaced “ - disturbing.”

Jean struggled with that for a moment, not wanting to think she was so controlled by her abilities, before admitting to herself that the Professor had hit the nail on the head. The she realized how it tied to her earlier thought.

“That’s why you’ve been trying to keep to the background.”

“In this case, I believe we should let our non-telepath friends guide us in regards to our guests. They are more used to evaluating others based solely on actions and body language.”

Jean leaned back with a groan and covered her face with her hands.

“I don’t like the idea that I’m at the mercy of my abilities, Professor.”

She stopped, a look sweeping across her face before she stood and headed for the door.

“Jean?”

“I refuse to be that dependent on my gifts, Professor. And the only way not to be is to face it and learn from someone who isn‘t. I’m going to join Scott on his tour. I know he’ll let me see through his eyes for awhile.”

As the door closed, Charles smiled.

“Good for you, Jean. Good for you.”

The touring quartet entered the dining room at the same time, with Scott answering the latest question.

“No, there’s no cook. All the food is made by the students and teachers. We have a schedule made up that lists who has to cook and when. At certain times, it’s a basic ‘scrounge for your own meal’ kinda thing, but dinner always has someone on it. Ah, Logan, “ Scott raised his voice as little as he addressed the back of the man in a cowboy hat who was placing silverware on the table, “Who was on Kitchen Duty tonight?”

“That would be me and Kitty, although the brat forgot about it until half an hour ago.” He turned and grinned, a wicked twinkle in his eye. “Which means she gets to take care of all the clean up. And washing the dishes. Especially washing the dishes.”

Scott groaned at the thought of some of the other ‘Kitty & Logan’ creations. The two could come up with good meals, but sometimes they got weird and - “Tell me it’s not Avocado and Pineapple Surprise. Or that mystery meat that we had last week.”

“Nah, I started the meal and the kid didn’t have time to toss together anything weird. Don’t know how she convinces me to let her make some of those recipes. “

“I do. It’s Kitty. She can talk people into anything. But especially you. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger, buddy. Has for years.”

As Scott and Logan bickered and teased back and forth, Buffy unobtrusively stepped to the back of the group and watched the newcomer. All the little hairs were standing up on the back of her neck as the instincts honed by four years of fighting some of the nastiest demons and other warriors on the planet screamed that this was a dangerous man.

Vaguely, she realized Scott was starting to introduce Willow to him and one part of her checked to make sure she was close enough to stop him if he tried to hurt her. Then she stepped forward. Through a haze she could hear Scott introducing her - he really seemed to like the phrase ’My California Cousin’ - but her attention was focused on this ‘Logan‘.

Logan’s attention was caught be the subtle, sleek movement of a predator in the corner of his eye as he was introduced to the suddenly shy little redhead. As Scott’s cousin stepped forward, he met her eyes - and felt his own eyebrows shoot up for a moment. Nothing in Jean’s telepathic projection of their meeting at the airport had indicated this.

This was a warrior.

And, like any warrior in the presence of another, she was evaluating his threat potential to her or her friend. Well, this was his territory and there was no way he was backing down, but he had mellowed in the years he had spent with the X-Man.

Buffy met the man’s gaze head on. Time slowed down as both took the other’s measure.

And, with a nod to himself, Logan offered his hand. Buffy tilted her head in acknowledgement before, with a small smile, she took his handshake.

Around them, time returned to it’s normal flow. Buffy realized as she listened to the conversation continue around her that no one else had noticed their confrontation. With a flicker of her eyes, she thought on what she had learned in the long seconds before they had shook hands.

Not an enemy. Not a friend. Not yet, anyway.

But possibly an ally.

*******************************************

First off: Yes, I know wolverines are not pack animals, but Wolverine, for all his ‘loner’ rep, is.

Next: I AM SO SORRY! (Is that enough grovelling?) There was a very bad combination of writer’s block, information overload (I tried researching New York), and laziness. I am not making any promises, but I will try to get the next chapter out sooner than this one came. I have got the next one started, at least.

Last: To all those who guessed (jennzabell, Robert, and . . . there were more, but I can’t seem to find their names! Sorry!) about the reason why the telepaths can’t read the Buffy and Willow’s minds, here is your lollipop. ---->O You were right on.