SquidgeWorld Archive

Codename: Jaguar
by Scorpio

The dark haired and lanky teenager stood by the boarding gate with a carry-on duffel bag slung over one shoulder, a set of walkman earphones dangling around his neck and a sullen scowl on his handsome face. A few feet away, a tall and distinguished older gentleman stood next to a younger blonde boy who stared down at his shuffling sneakered feet in an attempt to hide the shimmer of tears in his eyes.

Around them, the Cascade Airport swirled with the chaotic movement of hundreds of travelers all rushing to either find their departure gate or to gather up their luggage so that they could hail a taxi and leave. Most people seemed to ignore the three strangers that somehow managed to draw a bubble of silence and stillness around them, but a few would take the time to stare briefly since all three of them radiated a sort of helpless anger and sadness.

Finally, after a long period of silent staring, the teenaged boy addressed the older man. "I still don't see why I have to be banished all the way across the country. I mean," his words were a cross between a whine and a sneer,  "I know that you hate the fact that I'm a...a mutant freak, but this is a bit much."

"Jimmy!" the older man snapped. "Be quiet," he hissed, "do you want someone to overhear you? You know that if they do that they can make this trip hell for you."

Taking a deep calming breath, the older man straightened his shoulders and glared at the teenager. "I've already told you my reasoning. This is a sound decision and I don't appreciate you second guessing me, Jimmy. Xavier's is a good school with an excellent reputation for dealing with...special students. They have the world's foremost expert on mutants on staff as well as the world's most renown geneticist working on site. If anyone can help you control these...sensory spikes, it's them." The older man sighed sadly then, "And they can keep you safe. You watch the news, Jimmy, so you know what it's like for mutants today. It's only a matter of time before you slip up in public and someone else finds out about your...gifts."

The scowl on the boy's face gave way to a look of frustrated sadness. "But Dad! You and Sally have done *great* helping me out. I...I don't want to leave!"

The older man opened his mouth to reply when a hidden speaker over head loudly announced in a tinny voice that United Flight 374 was ready to depart from Gate 28-B. The teenager, Jimmy, winced even as he grabbed his head with both hands held tightly over his ears. His whole body seemed to cringe down as if to get as far from the noise as possible and his face was etched in lines of pain. The older man stepped over and gently rubbed a circle on his back to distract Jimmy from the ringing echoes in his sensitive ears. After a long moment, Jimmy was able to stand up straight and remove his hands.

"This is what I mean Jimmy, " he sounded suddenly old and tired to the two boys, "this is too much for you to handle alone and I don't know *how* to help you. Maybe Xavier can. I can only hope so."

Sullenly the teenager nodded and shifted the duffel bag up higher on his shoulder. "Me too. Then maybe I can come back home." Then Jimmy's _expression_ softened noticeably as he turned to the younger boy, "Hey squirt. I'm gonna write you a lot, so you better write me back. Okay."

The younger boy looked up, his blue eyes shinning with unshed tears. He nodded silently for a moment and then stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the teen. "I love you Jimmy."

An _expression_ of loss and hurt crossed Jimmy's face, "I love you too, Stevie." Jimmy shared a long look with their father and then forced a smile on his face even as he slid out of the younger boy's arms. "I gotta go now, squirt. You be good for Dad and Sally and I'll see you at Christmas."

"Okay."

With one last look at his father and his younger brother, Jimmy Ellison turned and walked up the boarding ramp and onto the airplane that would take him to New York and Xavier's School for Gifted Children.

*

~Come in Scott. You too, Logan.~

The two shared a quick look and then Scott Summers opened the door and they both walked into the lushly appointed study that had served as Professor Xavier's office for decades.

"Have a seat gentlemen."

One eyebrow arched above his ruby quartz glasses in question even as he sat down on one of the sturdy leather chairs, Scott ignored his teammate's graceful sprawl in the other and instead focused on his mentor.

"You know that I have publicly agreed to step down as Headmaster here at the school," Xavier's voice was mildly self mocking, "and in light of last year's fiasco with the students I still think that is a wise decision. I fear I am too old to...relate to many of the new students. I grew up in a time when the general public didn't even realize mutants existed and my first two groups of students were small. Five each, to be exact. Because of this, I was able to address each of their problems personally and I *knew* them each personally. Both of you can attest to this."

Scott nodded his head in agreement even as Logan offered up a grunt that, to those that knew him well, meant positive affirmation.

A look of haunted sadness flashed over Xavier's face for a brief moment. "These younger kids have grown up either facing hatred and discrimination from the moment they are born or they are suddenly finding themselves to be the object of their own prejudices. They are young and energetic and...impatient for the world to accept them as they are."

"Sir," Scott's voice was patient and steady. This was an old arguement between them, "I still think that you are being too hard on yourself. The trials of last year can be laid at the feet of all of us. We were *not* prepared to open our doors to the public and to suddenly have students from all across the country come begging at our door. That was Cassandra's doing and we were *all* left to scramble to fix it. We know what we're facing now and we are much better prepared to deal with over a hundred and fifty teenagers."

Logan pulled an unlit cigar from his vest pocket and pointed it at the new Headmaster even as he addressed the Professor.

"Listen t' him, Chuck." Logan's voice was a gravely growl of impatience and banked aggression. "You, Jeannie, Emma, Scooter an' that Xorn fella been banging ya heads together all summer t' set up a halfway decent curriculum while me, Hank, Wings, Jean-Paul an' the Icecube have been putting together a self-defense class for the kids that'll combine hand-to-hand combat, training in their powers an' old fashioned ethics. It's a good program."

Logan's eye then narrowed and he shifted slightly in his chair. "Look," he sighed, "I don't have no problem with the one-eyed-king taking over the school." He gestured to Scott. "So long as it's because *you* don't wanna do it no more. Don't step down if it's just 'cause ya had a set back. They happen t' everyone, anyways."

Scott turned his head and glared at Logan even as he silently mouthed the words, 'one eyed king?' Logan shrugged and grinned. It was a particularly toothy smile.

With a sigh, Xavier held up one hand to forestall the good-natured bickering that followed these two around like a puppy dog. "Honestly, Logan. I'm touched by your concern, however, I have thought this though completely. I feel that I would be better served if I limited my involvement to counseling those troubled students that need it in a one-on-one basis. I can't help but feel that if I had been available to Quentin in that capacity then, perhaps, the disaster of last year could have been prevented. I will also be able to devote more time to lobbying for mutant rights with my current schedule."

Scott opened his mouth to reply, but Xavier held up one hand for silence. "I do appreciate both of your concerns, but that is not why I called you here. I wanted to tell you about a new student that will be joining us this coming year."

Xavier picked up a sheet of paper from his desk and handed it to Scott Summers.

NAME: James J. Ellison
FAMILY: William Ellison (father), Grace Ellison (mother - deceased), Stephan Ellison (brother)
AGE: 16
HAIR/EYES: brown/blue
POWERS: Heighted senses: sight, hearing, taste, smell and touch. Precognitive trances and dreams.
POWER LEVELS: Heightened senses: Omega level. Precog: unknown - possible Alpha.
PLACE OF BIRTH: Cascade, Washington. USA.

Scott read through the brief information and passed it over for Logan to read. Professor Xavier leaned back in his chair and sighed.

"His father is a fairly rich and powerful businessman in the Pacific northeast and in Asia. Unfortunately, he lives in an area that is strongly anti-mutant. Mr. Ellison has spent several years trying to keep James' abilities hidden from public knowledge even as they've tried to deal with it on their own." For a second, Xavier sagged down and seemed old and tired, but then he sighed and his gaze became piercing once more. "This ceased to be a possibility since the boy has recently had a power spike and he can no longer function properly. His senses are...out of control and are causing him a good deal of pain."

Logan snorted and waved the paper around. "No wonder. I have all five senses heightened too, but only my sense o' smell is at an Omega level. Hearing, taste an' sight are all Alpha. Only my sense o' touch is at Beta level. I've been thankful for that. Painful injuries felt at Omega level would be...intolerable. Even *with* a healing factor."

Xavier smiled. "That's part of why I asked you here specifically, Logan. I want you to work closely with this boy. According to his father, James mostly tries to ignore his senses, but they often overwhelm him and leave him in great pain...or trapped in horror. He needs to be shown that heightened senses can also be a gift and not just a curse."

A slight frown crossed Scott's face. "I don't see how this can be such a trial for him. We've had other students here that seemed to have mutations that are much more..."

Logan cut him off with snort of derision and a scowl. "Ya don't know what ya talking about Summers. Trust me, this ain't nothing t' laugh off. Just think about it a minute an' picture the last time ya walked past a dumpster full o' rottin' garbage, mold an' rat droppin's."

Scott crinkled up his nose in disgust at the memory even as Logan chuckled and nodded his head. "Stunk t' high heaven, didn't it?" When Scott nodded, Logan pierced him with a serious glare. "Now, imagine that stench magnified by a thousand."

Scott paled slightly and turned an incredulous look onto Logan. "And you just...live like that?" Logan simply shrugged and popped his cigar in his mouth while grunting out an affirmative.

Xavier smiled slightly and gestured to the paper still in Logan's hands. "That is why Mr. Ellison is hoping that we can help his son. James can overhear a whispered conversation being held several city blocks away, but a loud noise close to him can easily deafen him and leave him incapacitated."

Logan chuckled and nodded his head. Scott arched his eyebrow above his glasses again and offered a sardonic look to his teammate. "You have another insight to offer?"

"Ya forget that I have Alpha level hearing, Scooter?" Logan's growl was amused. "Goin' off into a fight, I can prepare for the bombardment o' sounds against my ears. The yelling, the shooting, the explosions...the occasional scream o' pain an' fear. When ya know it's coming ya can sorta...tune it out so that it doesn't blast ya head apart. It's when ya don't expect it that the noise rips through ya skull like a blast from a laser beam."

"Oh?" Professor Xavier's is innocent curiosity.

"Yeah. For example, did ya know that about three days ago Hank had another breakthrough on whatever it is that he's researching this time?" Xavier nodded and Scott frowned and shook his head. Logan smirked, "It happened at about 3:15am an' I know this because he woke me out o' a dead sleep with a loud cry o' 'Eureka! I've finally done it!' which was then followed by what sounded like a victory dance across the lab an' back."  

The Professor chuckled, but Scott frowned and tilted his head. "And that woke you up? From all the way down in the Med-lab...in Sub-basement Level 1?"

Logan snorted. "Scoot, the Beast didn't just 'wake me up'. He startled me awake in such a way as t' catapult me outta bed with all six claws extended an' ready t' shred flesh. It took me a moment t' realize the school wasn't under attack." He shrugged. "Happens several times a night. I'm used t' it. Then again, my healing factor pretty much means that I can get by on only a few hours o' sleep. This kid don't got one, so he's probably a bit surly."

Xavier and Scott shared a glance and then Scott burst into chuckles while the Professor tried to hold his back with a modicum of dignity.

"What?" Logan's voice was a snarl.

The Professor's lips twitched. "I think, Logan, that we are entering Pot and Kettle territory."

"Well, it takes a duck," Scott snorted, "to recognize another duck."

Logan graced him with a look suggesting one humoring a lunatic. "A duck, Cyke?"

"Yeah," Scott snickered, "as in, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck then it must be a duck. And you Logan, are one surly and grumpy duck, my friend."

Logan chomped down on the end of his cigar and glared. "I don't know what ya talking about, One Eye. I'm down right congenial, dammit."

Scott erupted into snickers again even as Xavier suddenly had a coughing fit. Finally, Xavier brought himself under control enough to clear his throat and turn to the scowling Logan. "Logan, I would like for you to go and meet James at the airport. I am sure that flying across the country into a new and unfamiliar life has rattled his last nerve, not to mention irritated his heightened senses."

With a curt nod, Logan stood up. "Sure thing, Chuck. When's his flight coming in?"

Xavier checked a piece of paper on his desk and then handed it over. "It's all listed on there for you. There have been no reports of a demonstration being held at the airport, so you should be fine. Just don't forget to bring the card that Carol Danvers gave you explaining that you have a military issue steel plate in your skull. That should help you avoid problems with any airport security."

Logan grunted quietly as he glanced over the flight information. "Got it covered, Chuck. No problem." Then he turned and began to walk to the door. Just as he grabbed the doorknob, Xavier's voice halted him.

"Oh, and Logan? If James mentions anything about seeing a black jaguar, be on the alert for danger. I'm not yet sure how his precognitive abilities work; whether they are an extension of his heightened senses or if they are a purely mental ability, but when it *does* manifest itself, the portents are delivered by a black jaguar that only he can see."

Logan merely nodded once and then walked through the door.

*

Jim Ellison exited from the plane with a mass of people into the departure gate and stopped for a moment to stretch the kinks out of his back. The rush and noise and assorted smells assaulting his brain made him want to put his headphones back on and lose himself in the music once more, but he resisted the temptation. He might miss his ride.

Not so long ago, Jim had discovered that if he focused all his attention on his music then he could tune out all of the rest of the stuff and with excellent artists like Santana available that was a nice way to spend his time. However, the drawback to that was that he lost track of everything else around him as well as his sense of time flowing and when he came out of these trace-like states he was disoriented and confused. Like now. Still, better to be a bit lost now than to have spent the entire flight trapped in a flying tin can full of overwhelming and conflicting smells while listening to the plane creak and groan around him. It was a creepy feeling, to say the least.

With a sigh, Jim adjusted his duffel bag strap and began to look for his ride to the school. Pushing through the swirling crowd, Jim stepped out into a clear space with no people in it with a tangible feeling of relief. That is until he saw the reason for it.

Leaning insolently against a tiled wall under a no smoking sign with a lit cigar hanging out of his mouth and a small sign that read "Xavier's" was a short heavily muscled man in battered black leather that looked like he stepped right out of a 'Mad Max' movie. At his feet lay the big black jaguar that seemed to haunt Jim's dreams and visions. It was sprawled in a relaxed way that almost suggested that it was purring.

Stepping forward a bit and glaring at the large cat, Jim hissed under his breath so that normal people wouldn't be able to hear, "You *can't* be serious!" But the jaguar merely yawned in that disinterested and unimpressed way all cats had and then leaned up against the leather clad biker and rubbed it's cheek along the man's leg.

"What'da ya mean, I can't be serious?" The man's voice was a deep gravely rumble that carried hints of both irritation and amusement in it.

Jim gaped at him, "You heard me?"

"Yup." The man grinned and exposed sharp fang-like canines. "Got me some real good hearing." Then the man's grin slid into a scowl. "You James?"

Jim cringed slightly. "Please...call me Jim. My Dad calls me Jimmy which makes me feel all of five years old and Mrs. Haverstace, my last year's math teacher called me James and, well...let's not go there. Okay?"

The man chuckled, a deep rumbling growl. "Fair enough, kid. I'm Logan. Xavier sent me."

Jim sighed and gestured to what, to Logan, appeared to be thin air. "I figured. My cat is lounging at your feet. I think the silly furball likes you."

One of Logan's eyebrows raised up and Jim watched as he began to sniff the air and tilt his head as if listening. "The jaguar that Xavier told me about? Don't that only show up when ya in danger?"

Jim shrugged. "Sometimes it does, yeah. It also shows up in my dreams and when I'm confused. It...sorta tries to point me in the right direction, I think. A friend of mine back home, Dan Wolf, he's a Native American Indian, right? Well, I just told him that I dream about a jaguar a lot and he said that in his tribe the people believe that everyone has an animal spirit that guides them through life. Dan says that the jaguar is just probably my Spirit Guide. When my Dad talked to Professor Xavier, the Professor seemed to think it might be...more than that."

Logan nodded once, "Fair enough. Let's get ya luggage an' then get t' the school."

Jim nodded and started to follow the older man when a harried woman with a wailing child in her arms walked by. Logan flinched back slightly, but Jim clamped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut in pain. Suddenly, a rough callused hand clamped over his nose and mouth even as another wrapped around the back of his neck to hold him in place. His heading ringing from the high pitched shriek that had blasted his ears, Jim felt minor panic at the loss of air. Then, without warning, the hand shifted away from his nose. Dragging in a deep breath of air, Jim was hit with an assortment of scents even as the pain in his ears faded away. Then, Logan let go completely.

"Ya okay, kid?"

Jim glared, "What the hell was that for?"

Logan smirked and shrugged. "I got heightened senses too, kid. I know what it's like t' get hit with something outta the blue an' have it rattle ya cage. The trick t' ridin' it out is t' focus on something else for a bit. Ya ears take a beatin', focus on scent. Somethin' tastes funny, focus on the dinner conversation."

"Oh." His anger suddenly deflated, Jim nodded. "You're a freak like me, huh?"

Logan growled, "I ain't a freak, kid. And neither are ya. Being a mutant means that ya get extra crap dumped into ya life, yeah. But ya also get a lot o' perks that the flatscans don't, so it all evens itself out."

Jim scowled right back at Logan even as he followed the older mutant to the luggage carousel. "I don't see how there can be perks. I mean..."

Logan cut him off with a wave of his cigar. Jim flinched back at the smell. "Sure there's perks, kid. Ya just haven't been around anyone who can help ya realize 'em yet."

Jim silently collected his luggage; two suitcases and a large travel trunk. He frowned at it all, wondering how the two of them were going to get them to whatever vehicle Logan brought when the short heavily muscled mutant easily lifted up the huge trunk and hefted it up on one of his broad shoulders. "Get the bags, kid."

Startled at the easy display of strength, Jim grabbed the handle of each bag and began to drag them along as he trotted to catch up to Logan. "Okay, what perks? I mean, I'm just hoping to get to the point where my senses don't drive me insane. It's like the whole world is just one huge irritant after another, ya know?"

Logan grunted, "Yeah, kid. I do know. It's all a matter o' control, though. An' once ya have that control, you'll see what I mean. The scent o' Jeannie's perfume will about make ya swoon in delight and you'll find that Bobby's ice tastes better than regular ice cubes...so try t' get *him* t' cool your drinks down if ya can. The Cajun's voice sounds like aged bourbon an' he always smells like sex an' chicory. The sound o' the wind singin' through the trees in the middle o' the woods with the scent o' pine in ya lungs is just about the best feeling in the world." The older man glanced down at the thoughtful look on Jim's face. "It's the little things, kid. Those little pleasures make the rest o' the shit worth it."

With that thought rattling around his head, Jim followed Logan out into the airport parking lot and the rest of his life.

END: Codename: Jaguar, Part 1 of Superhero Bootcamp