Nova

Author: Matdeception

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor would I ever pretend to own Ranma 1/2 or Evolution: X-men. This is a piece of fan fiction written to homage the original concepts and idea's of the authors of said series, and is in no way being used to make a profit from their fine works.

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Prologue: An old friend.

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It was a well deserved break, a week end of peace and quiet from the nosy, loud, hormonal brats that made up his... family? Logan snorted at that, grinning as he pulled on a pair of dark leather gloves and zipped up his jacket.

"Going some where, Logan?"

Logan sighed. 'Course, can't expect to sneak out for a night of bar hoppin with the Witch here.' He glanced back, spotting the white haired weather witch as she descended the stairs. She looked amused, or as amused as she could get with constantly having to keep her emotions in check. Ororo Munroe, one of the first to join Xavier's little group, was a woman of elegance and grace. So much so, though he'd never admit it even at gun point, he felt a bit weird just being around her. As if he had eaten something that didn't agree with him, a momentary... pain in his gut that would quickly vanish after his mutation got done with it. The pain was a little annoying, but hardly a concern.

"Bar." he gruffed, grabbing his keys. "You ain't gonna run and tell Charles, are ya?"

Ororo raised one delicate eyebrow curiously, "Cell phone?"

'Damn phones.' He grumbled mentally. He hated the little electronic gadgets. So easy to lose or misplace, and it always annoyed him that people could reach him anywhere when he had one. No privacy, no solitude, for a man like him that was hell. "Yeah." he patted his jacket pocket, "Ain't expectin anything, not with the kids at camp right?"

"Of course not." she smiled, bemused, "But you know what the Professor would say. 'Better to have one and not need it, then need one and not have it."

Logan frowned, "That's the condom principal."

"Hush you." The African woman snorted unlady like. "Have a good time." she waved casually, stepping into the living room.

'Meh' he shrugged. He opened the door to step out when a vibration in his jacket caught his attention. He sighed, fishing out that damn phone. 'Haven't even left the house and I'm already getting bugged. Hurray for technology... piece of shit.'

He flipped the phone open, stumbled a bit with the control before managing to open up his text messages. Logan blinked as he read the text.

"Well I'll be damned." Maybe cell phones weren't so bad after all...

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The light was dim, moody. Smoke from cigarettes clung to the ceiling, a mixture of menthol and cloves and regulars. Glasses chinked at random intervals as people raised their beer in a toast, joined by the crack of a que ball as it slammed into the solids and stripes. Music pumped across the bar, a mixture of rock, rap, and techno.

He didn't particularly care for the dive, much preferring the smaller businesses that didn't particularly play to the whims of youth. 'Speaking of youth...' Logan eyed the young man. Asian, with black hair tied loosely in a pony tail and blue gray eyes that pierced the dim haze of smoke that threatened to smother the place.. His skin was darker then most, but not by much, and while Logan didn't give a flying fuck about 'fashion' or any such communist shit, he had to admit that black leather pants and the slightly baggy body builder t-shirt gave the kid a dangerous look.

"Stop that." the kid snapped playfully, taking a long drag off his cigarette. He blew the smoke out slowly, grinning, "Or I might think you decided ta swing tha other way."

Logan snorted. "Fuck you, kid."

The kid chuckled, "So how ya been?"

"Can't complain." the feral man shrugged, chugging back on his beer. "Been baby sittin a bunch of spitfires lately. Bunch of annoying hormonal teenagers mainly, but they ain't all bad."

"Hah!" The Asian teenager slapped his knee, chuckling, "I knew it! Baldy finally convinced oua to do the whole teacher thing, didn't he?"

Logan grunted. "It ain't all bad."

"Sure it is." he kid rolled his eyes, "I remember what being a teenager was like. Constant fighting, super powered pissing contests, chicks throwing themselves at you from everywhere." he shook his head, "Fucking crazies stopping by wanting you to stop breathing."

"Meh." The feral man snorted, "You know it ain't like that here... or anywhere else on this fucking world."

Logan felt a little guilty the moment he said it. The light in the kid's eyes faded ever so slightly, that amused grin disappearing in an instant. "Eh... sorry Ranma."

"Ah don't be." Ranma sighed, picking up his own beer and chugging back some.

"You ever find out what happened?"

"Nah." the boy sighed, "Been all over, looking for somethin, anything to help me piece together what the hell happened and how I got here." He shrugged tiredly, looking anything but the teenager he appeared as. "I ain't giving up, no chance, but... I'm just tired man. Seventeen years of dead ends is just getting to me, y'know?"

Logan frowned curiously, "Is that why you're here? Pit stop before you hit the road again?"

Ranma chuckled, "Kinda. After that debacle in Peru..."

"Peru?" Logan interrupted smoothly, "What the hell happened in Peru?"

"Ah, not much." He shrugged, "Some revolutionists got it their hands on some of that Nova-tech I was tracking, thought they could use it to stage a coup. Long story short, there was a fight, couple of bombs went off, then the tech went thermal and left a large glass crater where an underground base use to be."

Wolverine grunted, "Heh. Only you can get into that kind of trouble..."

"Yeah, and that's why I'm here."

"Oh?" The older man frowned curiously.

"Yep." Ranma grunted, "Figured I'd take baldy up on his offer, crash at his place for a few months while I sniff out new leads." he grinned, "Maybe get a job, and watch some TV."

"You're planning on free loading." Logan deadpanned.

"Sure am." Ranma grinned, "You ever play Shogi?"

"Drop dead shit head." Logan snorted, finishing off his beer. "You hungry?"

"Heh." Ranma chuckled, "Always."

"Cool. Ororo's cooking dinner, she usually makes extra."

The gender-cursed boy blinked. "Ororo's there?"

Logan chuckled, "Oh yeah, she's there alright."

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea." he chuckled nervously, "Yeah, y'know, I think I'll just leave... the country."

"Ya big baby." Wolverine rolled his eyes, grabbing Ranma by his shirt collar and dragging him to his feet. "She's prolly already forgotten about Canada."

"This is Ororo." Ranma dead panned.

Logan frowned thoughtfully, nodding. "Yeah... you're screwed buddy."

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Ranma just stared. The large field that made up the school's front yard was huge, with grass, side walks, and even oak benches that just screamed wealth. The landscape was well cared for, which didn't surprise him. Ororo Munroe always did have a green thumb, especially when she needed an outlet to channel her more passionate emotions with out summoning a hurricane to lay devastation to everything and everyone.

'Jesus... how much fucking money does Baldy have?' The mansion itself was huge, complete with what he could only assume to be a fucking parking garage. It was made of brick with a tasteful red and white paint coating. He shook his head as he followed after Logan up the drive way.

"Some place." he breathed in awe.

Logan grunted as he slipped his key in and opened the door. The inside was pleasant, warm and personal. Sturdy wooden floors, just the right amount of lighting to illuminate with out irritating the eyes, and tasteful tapestries and paintings lining the walls.

Logan slammed the door shut rather loudly, grunting an 'I'm home.' as he tossed his keys into a bowl near the door.

"In the dining room Logan." Ororo's voice caught his ears. It was soft in tone, but otherwise neutral.

While he wasn't afraid, no never afraid not Ranma, he was seriously considering just rabbiting before the weather witch saw him.

Logan snorted, catching his nervous glances to the door. "Come on, you can't hide forever."

"I can certainly try!" Ranma snarled harshly.

"Who are you talking..." Ororo, beautiful exotic Ororo stepped into the room, her brown eyes staring at first curiously.

"Uh..." Ranma sweated, waving weakly from behind Logan "Hi."

"Ranma?" the Nubian woman breathed her voice going far to tense in his opinion.

Logan grunted, "Yeah, found him in a local dive. Figured it would be cool to give him a place to sleep for a few weeks."

Ororo growled, her brown eyes starting to cloud over.

Ranma sweated, "Yep, I'm screwed."

"Yes, you are." she snarled before lunging at the gender-cursed boy.

...

"What happened here?" Xavier stared at so much destruction in absolute awe. The Foyer was a mess; tiles had literally been ripped from the ground, walls scorched by what looked like fire of some kind. The stair case looked massively damaged, as if some one had crashed into the steps and been dragged up stairs with no regard to the damage being done.

"CCccccharles." Came the gruff voice.

Xavier looked up in surprise. There, on the roof, was Wolverine. The man had been encased in a chunk of ice that was frozen to the ceiling. He had a rather unhealthy blue complexion, and his teeth were chattering wildly. "Logan... what happened?"

"OooOororo..." the man grumbled miserably.

Professor X frowned. Ororo did this? She was the single most controlled woman he had ever met. Sadly that was out of necessity, for with out control her powers would rage unchecked, devastating everything around her in the process. What could have gotten into the normally cool woman to cause something like this?

"Bbbrought... Rrrranma..."

Xavier paled, "You fool!" he whispered in dread.

A loud boom from upstairs rocked the house down to its foundations, followed quickly by a low growl and heated cry. Xavier just covered his ears and wheeled himself down stairs. 'Thank goodness the kids aren't here; this would scar their little minds.'

For some reason, as he quickly descended into the lower levels, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was forgetting something. Something important... but what could it be?

"LLllitttle help?" The forgotten Wolverine moaned miserably.

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TBC:

AN: Something I wrote once, a long time ago that got nuked when my hard drive gave me the one finger salute. This isn't exactly as I originally wrote it, but hey, once lost nothing is ever the same again.

This fic is written entirely for fun. My fun, that is. You're welcome to leave comments and critiques, but I honestly don't care. You should consider this a work in progress, as I'm very likely to go back and alter entire scenes as I see fit. Anyway, enjoy.