"Shadow?"

 Alma set her spoon down in her bowl of soup. *Yes, Professor?*

 "When you're finished with your lunch, would you come to my study? There are several important things I need to discuss with you."

 *Yes yes. Should I tell Hank that I'll be late for my lab session?*

 "I've already informed him not to expect you; this discussion will take some time."

 *You have bad news, yes?*

 "Yes, but not all of it is bad, and I'm certainly not angry with you."

 Xavier offered Alma a chair and a cup of tea, then asked, "How did you know I had bad news?"

 *Your eyes give you away. Sign language uses much face expression and body language. It's very hard for me to lie, and I often see when someone lies or hides something.*

 He smiled. "I'll have to be more careful, it seems. How are your powers progressing?"

 *I'm getting much stronger. I shape more in less time, I do longer and not get tired, and I do more detail with less try. Right now we work on what Hank calls 'channeling': I touch thing one place, but shape comes other place. You want me to show you?*

 "Please do." She put her hand on one corner of his desk; a glowing silver line shot along the edge, and the opposite corner curled like the crest of a wave. She smiled at Xavier's startled exclamation, then smoothed the desk out again before lifting her hand. "Does wearing gloves stop the effect?" he inquired.

 *Yes, but I can shape cloth out of way, then put it back when done, but that makes me tired. Hank has warned me to control my powers when I work with Rogue.*

 "It's fortunate that you are not of a criminal turn of mind," Xavier laughed. "No jail cell could hold you, and no safe could stop you. In fact, since you can restore the original shape, no one could tell you'd broken in until they noticed something was missing."

 *That's not quite right, Professor. Electric charge, much heat, or coat of acid can make thing hurt too much for me to touch, and I must touch thing with bare skin to shape. But we find I not need use hands.* She leaned her elbow on the desk, then lifted it to reveal a hole. *Using hands is most easy, but I can use feet, knees, any part of my body. We make mold of my face in board just for fun.* Her face sobered; she restored the hole her elbow had made, then met Xavier's eyes. *Professor, you not ask me here to show off my powers. Please, tell me what is wrong.*

 "Alma, there's so much, and it's so entangled, I'm not certain where to begin." He sighed heavily. "Do you remember the quarrel we had the first time your powers manifested?" She blushed and nodded. "Have you ever wondered why I wanted to probe your mind?"

 *To help you find my family, yes?*

 "Not exactly; finding your family would help establish where and when you were born."

 *Why is that so important?*

 "Legal reasons. For instance, if you weren't born in this country, you aren't a US citizen; you can't vote or hold public office unless you're naturalized. Also, 'transporting an illegal alien' is a crime; since you were brought to America without your consent and against your will, that is yet another charge that the Cruel One may have to face. Establishing your true age is even more important; crimes committed against a minor are punished more severely than crimes against an adult. There are practical reasons for finding out your age as well, since there are many things which a minor can't legally do which an adult can: holding a job or driving a car, for instance. There are certain movies you can't attend, some items you can't purchase, and you're not allowed to have alcohol except under very special circumstances."

 She winced. *I'll never drink, even when it's legal; smell of alcohol reminds me of -- of him.*

 "There's another reason for determining your age, one which concerns Logan as well as you. He could be in serious legal trouble if it became known that you two were, shall we say, 'keeping company'."

 Shadow looked exasperated. *Professor, please don't talk down to me. Just say what you mean. You are third person who talk to me about this. Why do everyone think Logan and I sleep together? And why is it anyone's business but ours? I'm still not sure what word 'love' means, but I do know that on day we first look into eyes, I become part of him and he become part of me. We kiss, do some touch, and we not stop --* her chin was defiant *-- but we not have sex. In fact, we make agreement: when we are alone together, some clothes stay on and some parts of body not touch, until I 'grow up', whatever that means.*

 "It means Wolverine has more sense than I gave him credit for. Alma, women under a certain age aren't legally permitted to get married. A man who has sex with a woman under the 'age of consent' is subject to severe legal penalties. Logan isn't an American citizen, and it could result in his being deported."

 *That's one reason we make agreement. But I don't see why it's your business.* Her eyes flared.

 "Alma, do you know what a 'ward of the court' is?"

 *I hear words before, but not sure I understand what words mean.*

 He explained. "This was to protect you, since you were not only seriously injured but a minor as well. I know you feel it's an invasion of your privacy for me to ask about your relationship with Wolverine, and you're quite justified in being offended, but since I'm your guardian, in a legal sense your private life is my business. However, I have no intention of interfering in your association with him, if that worries you."

 Alma sighed in relief. *I start think your 'bad news' is we must stop be together.*

 The Professor chuckled. "Absolutely not. Your love for each other is obviously genuine, and is doing you both a great deal of good. I've never known Logan to smile so much. But we're getting off the subject. Resolving your legal status and age is important, and I've contacted several government agencies to see what we can do. There's an official test, the General Educational Development or GED test. It's a standard throughout the US and Canada, and passing it gives you the equivalent of a high school diploma without actually attending high school. It will be administered fairly soon; would you be willing to take it?"

 *Yes yes! Yes yes! It sounds wonderful!*

 "Excellent! I'm quite confident that you'll pass, thanks to Beast's tutoring, and it will help establish a legal identity for you. I'll start pulling strings and taking care of the necessary paperwork involved, and find out what preparations you'll need to make. Other details on your status can wait, as they don't need to be dealt with right this minute. However --" his smile vanished "-- something else has occurred which does need to be dealt with right away. Believe me, Alma, I delayed this as long as I possibly could. If you want to see the Cruel One receive the punishment he deserves, there are some questions …"

 Professor Xavier stopped in mid-sentence as Alma turned white, swayed in her chair, and fainted.

*****

 Despite regaining consciousness in the security of Wolverine's arms, Shadow was completely hysterical, and the only coherent word she could sign was *NO*, over and over again. Even shaking her did no good, and at last Professor Xavier had to resort to smelling salts to snap her out of her panic.

 "I have no idea why she is reacting so violently, Wolverine. Alma, please try to calm down. Your hands are shaking so much that I can't understand you. Why are you so afraid?"

 *Be -- are -- it be him, Cruel One,* Alma signed, forgetting her grammar in her distress. *You say I not need talk in court. Please. Please not make me do. I not-can see him again. Not. Not. Not. No. Please. No.* She gave up trying to sign, clutching Logan's shirt and shaking with silent sobs, and it took several kisses and a large mug of tea to restore her composure enough to continue the discussion.

 "Alma, I realize that this topic upsets you, but I'm worried about the intensity of your reaction, and you aren't making sense. I said you must answer some questions; I said nothing about testifying."

 *But -- but you say 'if I want to see him get punishment he deserve'. How can I see him get punish if I not look at him?*

 Xavier covered his face and groaned. "Alma, I'm deeply sorry. I phrased that badly and misled you. Please don't blame yourself. You've come so far these past months that I forget there are idioms you don't yet understand. You will not have to testify, and you do not have to see the Cruel One again."

 Alma looked relieved. *Good. He scares me in dreams so much that if I think about seeing him when I'm awake, I shake. Maybe I'm afraid that if I see him, all this --* she waved a hand at Xavier's study *-- this new life you give me is for-true dream, and all pain and fear start again.*

 Logan's arm tightened around her protectively, and she nestled closer. "Darlin', I know you got more sense than that. The Cruel One's a rotten, egg-suckin' scumbag, no question, but he's human, not some fire-breathin' demon. He's gotta eat 'n' sleep 'n' go t'the bathroom just like everyone else." Shadow managed a smile at the image his words produced, and both men relaxed a little.

 "Actually, Wolverine, Shadow's explanation is very reasonable. She spent many years being afraid of the Cruel One for very good reasons, and people seldom recover completely from that sort of trauma."

 "Don't I know it …" Wolverine muttered; Alma squeezed his hand, then signed:

 *Now, Professor, please tell me. Is this 'bad news' you have for me? Who will ask questions, and where and when? And what questions will he-she-they ask me?*

 "Yes, Alma, this is the 'bad news'. Wolverine, do you mind staying while Alma and I discuss this? She is obviously less fearful with you here to comfort her."

 "If my girl needs me, yer damn right I'll stay. You'd have a tough time gettin' me outta here if ya think she might get spooked again."

 *Thank you, Logan dear …* Shadow kissed his cheek.

 "All right. There are two people who need to interview you: Mrs. Hope Samuels, the prosecuting attorney on the Cruel One's case; and Mr. George Takahashi from the Child Welfare Agency. They need to ask about your time with the Cruel One, and especially the details of how he abused you. I realize this is exactly what you've been trying to forget, so I've done all I can to make this as easy on you as possible. They will come here, where you feel safe. If you feel ready, they'll begin tomorrow, since the sooner they start, the sooner it'll be over. Since they will ask similar questions, they'll interview you together. That way you'll only need to answer questions once. Also, I will be present, and --" Xavier's eyes twinkled "-- I think we could persuade Logan to give you some moral support as well."

 "No problem, Prof. If it'll help put that bastard behind bars, I'll give her all the support I can."

 Alma deliberated for a while, then scowled. *If I answer questions, it means Cruel One go to jail, yes? I will do it, Professor, so he will learn what it's like to live in cage!*

 The next few days were hell. Logan and Xavier both learned far more of Alma's past than they preferred as they comforted and sustained her through the ordeal of her interviews. Time and again Wolverine fought to keep his temper under control. Mr. Takahashi had brought a sign-language interpreter to assure a neutral translation, and listening to the sordid details somehow made things worse. Only the fact that they were learning useful information enabled them to continue.

 Despite her genuine willingness to cooperate, Shadow suffered terribly. The two interviewers were kind, compassionate, and endlessly patient, but their questions unearthed memories that she had fought long and hard to bury. Two unfortunate mischances added to her burden. Mr. Takahashi was a heavy smoker, and though he politely refrained from smoking during the interviews, the smell of tobacco smoke clung to his garments and reminded her sharply of her tormentor. Also, a slip of the tongue by Mrs. Samuels had revealed the Cruel One's name: Douglas Owens. Having a name given to her nemesis made things worse, not better. Alma lost count of how many times she broke down and wept; she lost her smile and her appetite as well. Her nights were even worse than her days, for her nightmares were so frequent and horrific that she was afraid to go to bed, and huge circles formed under her eyes.

 "Charles, you've got to do something," Jean begged. She and Xavier were in one corner of Alma's room; Logan crouched by her bed, gently holding her flailing arms while Hank injected a sedative. The rest of the team was in the hall; all were red-eyed and haggard. "It's been three nights in a row, and this is the third time tonight. I can't sleep, which means Scott can't either. You haven't slept since this started, and neither has Logan. And Shadow is becoming irrational. She literally begged Rogue and me to search her closet before she went to bed tonight. She was convinced the Cruel One was hiding there waiting for her!"

 "I must agree with Jean," Beast added as he repacked his medical kit. "I dare not sedate her any further; her body mass is so slight that there is a grave risk of overdose. And tranquilizers are not stopping the nightmares. Look at her!" Even in her drugged stupor, Shadow was still twitching and quivering.

 "I dunno how much more o' this I c'n take, Prof," Wolverine rasped. "I gotta get some sleep or I'll go nuts, but if I leave her, she goes nuts."

 "That, at least, I can do something about," Xavier sighed wearily. "Gambit, Rogue, get a cot and blankets from storage. Set it up next to Shadow's bed; perhaps Wolverine can get some sleep and still stay beside her. Jubilee, will you go to Wolverine's room and get his pillow? Storm, please go to the kitchen and warm some milk for everyone, it will help us relax and get back to sleep. Hank, I hate to say it, but I think sleeping pills are in order for Jean and myself. For Shadow, I don't know what else I can do. An extended recess would only prolong the torment; suppressing her memories would defeat the purpose of the questioning. We will simply have to put up with the psychic disturbance until the interviews are over."

 "How much longer will that be?" Cyclops asked.

 "I think we may be approaching the end," Xavier replied. "Tomorrow, I'll ask the interviewers if they can prolong their visit to get this over with as soon as possible."

 Mercifully, the two interviewers completed their questions the following day. After they had departed, Shadow, Wolverine and Professor Xavier remained in the Conference Room, too exhausted to move. A discreet knock brought the two men out of their daze. "Yes?" Xavier croaked.

 "This is Beast, Professor. Our guests are off the grounds; would you like some assistance?"

 "Please …"

 Beast came in, carrying two steaming mugs of coffee. "To put it in the vernacular, 'just what the doctor ordered'."

 "Hank, yer okay," Wolverine grunted after a hearty swallow.

 "Ah woulda thought y'all needed sleep, not caffeine," Rogue commented from the doorway.

 "Rogue, I'm so tired I could sleep through Doomsday," Logan replied with a huge yawn. "This'll gimme just enough boost t'get --" he yawned again "-- t'get a quick shower 'fore I hit the hay." His head drooped even as he spoke, and Hank had to move quickly to keep him from spilling his coffee. "Boy, I ain't never been this tired," he admitted after a few more gulps. "Chuck, I know ya don't go fer revenge, but could I --" another huge yawn "-- could I have five minutes with that sonuvabitch? Just this once?"

 "After what we've been hearing these past few days, I'm almost ready to say yes," Xavier said with a ghost of a chuckle. "Actually, Rogue, this stimulant will give me just enough energy to make sure we all get a good night's sleep. I know I promised to stay out of her mind, but I think Alma will forgive me if I suppress her memories enough to prevent any more nightmares."

 Hearing her name, Alma's head lifted a fraction. Her face was ravaged by tears, and her eyes were twin pits filled with burning coals. One look at those eyes was enough for Xavier. <Alma, will you let me in your mind?>

 <Yes. (moan) Yes. Please. I'm (whimper) -- so -- tired …>

 <You have every right to be tired. This has been quite an ordeal for you. I admire your spirit.>

 <No -- more -- speeches. Please. (moan) Help -- me …>

 <Of course. Relax your shields and let me in a little more …> With exquisite care, Xavier probed until he found what he sought. With a grateful sigh, Alma slumped in her chair and was instantly asleep.

 "Thanks, Prof. Fer -- her an' -- fer me," Wolverine said blearily. He tried to rise, but swayed and nearly fell before Hank caught his arm. "Gotta -- get her -- ta bed …"

 "Ah'll take care o' her fo' ya, sugah," Rogue chuckled as she gently lifted the sleeping girl. "Ya bettuh skip yo' showuh 'n' git Hank t'put you ta bed. Professor, do ya need any help?"

 "Thank you for the offer, but I think I can manage, Rogue," Xavier replied. "I just hope none of our enemies choose to attack for a few days."

 Professor Xavier got his wish. The next few days were blessedly quiet as the X-Men caught up on much-needed sleep. Wolverine slept for eighteen straight hours; Jean found him in the kitchen demolishing a gigantic submarine sandwich. "Ah, the sleeper awakes," she chuckled as she made herself a cup of tea.

 "Alma's still zonked," he replied with his mouth full.

 "I know, I've been checking on her from time to time. Poor kid … I just hope it was all worth it."

 "Well, we found out all sorts o' little stuff that's been buggin' us, like why she don't like Xavier readin' her mind without askin'. All the time that bastard had her, the only real privacy she had was inside her skull, which explains her shields. Found out why she didn't flip out the first time she met Beast, too."

 "I've always wondered about that, but I never felt comfortable asking. Why?"

 "She grew up in freak shows, remember? She's seen lots weirder things than Beast."

 "So that's why she touched him, to make sure he wasn't someone in a fur suit."

 "Yeah, plus she wanted t'be sure she wasn't seein' things. Sometimes she'd have hallucinations when that bastard didn't feed her …" His face darkened with anger.

 Jean patted his shoulder and murmured, "It's over, Logan. You know better than anyone that we mustn't let the past dominate us."

 "Easier said than done …" he whispered huskily, then cleared his throat and continued: "We found out lotsa important stuff too. She's from some dinky town in Mexico -- that's why she understands Spanish -- an' she was 'bout four years old when the Cruel One got her. He had her 'bout ten years, so that makes her 'bout fifteen. He was even scuzzier'n we thought, too, if that's possible. Sometimes when he had enough dough, he'd bring a hooker back t'their motel room 'n' take her ta bed while Alma watched!"

 "Please tell me you're joking?"

 "Wish I could. Luckily she was too young t'understand 'n' usually curled up 'n' went ta sleep. At least there was one good thing 'bout him thinkin' she was an animal -- that's why he never tried ta mess with her. If he had …" Wolverine scowled, muttering pungent descriptions of the Cruel One's ancestry while his claws slid in and out.

 "All that and more."Jean's voice was savage. "It's a good thing we found her when we did! If he'd seen her the way she looks now …"

 "Don't say it. Just thinkin' about it makes me wanna puke!"

 "Me too, rape is something all women instinctively fear. It might have broken her, but I doubt it. She's a survivor, Logan, and a remarkable young lady. Alma's recovery is amazing for someone who grew up so horribly abused. I was afraid she'd always be terrified of men. What happened between you was marvelous, for both of you. You may not realize it, but she's changed you. Remember I said 'help her heal and maybe she'd help you heal'? Well, it's happening, it's wonderful to see, and I can't tell you how grateful I am. Your feelings for me and your jealousy of Scott were a major weak point in the team."

 He sighed. "I know. I still love you, y'know, I prob'ly always will. It's just a different kinda love now." A faraway look and a faint smile crossed his face; he blinked, shook his head, then asked, "How much longer d'ya think she'll sleep? I wanna be there when she wakes up."

 Jean concentrated. "Several more hours. I certainly wouldn't want to wake her now, she's having a very nice dream about you." She winked.

 "Knock it off, I get enough razzin' from that blasted Cajun without gettin' it from you, too."

 "See what I mean? We never used to be able to tease you like that without you getting angry."

 He scowled. "Ya better not be thinkin' that I'm goin' soft …"

 She giggled. "Heavens, no. You still tear the Danger Room apart just like you always have. But you don't lose your temper as easily, and you smile a lot more."

 "Prob'ly 'cause I've got somethin' t'smile about."

 Jean's smile was compassionate. "You do love her very much, don't you?"

 "So much it almost hurts. She -- she's like a piece o' me that was missin'," he admitted, flushing.

 "Love is nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about, dear."

 "Well, I'm just glad she 'n' Jubilee get along so well."

 "That was a piece of good luck, yes. Now finish that sandwich before it spoils!"

 The deep and binding love between Alma and Logan had indeed done much to heal them both, but each had suffered wounds to mind and body and soul that would never fully heal. No amount of love could purge the adamantium from Wolverine's bones, or erase the scars on Shadow's back. Wolverine would always have a savage side, the aggressive edge that made his fighting fury so fearsome, though it took several no-holds-barred sessions in the Danger Room to fully convince him of that.

The hard core of stubbornness which had kept Alma alive and sane under the Cruel One's abuse made her determined to put the distress of the interviews behind her. In the days that followed, she threw herself into her studies and training with a zeal that was closer to desperation -- or obsession. The result was inevitable. Buoyed by praise from Logan during a gymnastic session, she tried an extra half-twist as an added flourish and wound up re-spraining her left wrist. Beast was sympathetic but firm.

 "I warned you, my dear," he chided as he wrapped an Ace bandage around her wrist. "Your left wrist will always be weaker than your right because of the bad sprain it sustained during your captivity."

 "Quit lookin' so scared, querida, nobody's gonna smack ya," Wolverine reassured her. "But from now on you wear wrist braces on both hands whenever yer workin' out. An' ya gotta remember that there's a time 'n' place fer play. Workouts are fer workin', darlin'."

 "Logan is right," Storm agreed. "You need your hands to talk, so you must be more careful with them. Do not feel discouraged, little one. Jean must wear wrist braces too, so you are not alone. And we are certainly not angry with you. Disappointed with your recklessness, perhaps, but not angry."

 Her face was forlorn. *How I talk? One hand?*

 "Definitely," Hank replied. "We can figure out your meaning, I'm certain, or you can fingerspell or use your board. Now you are not to use this hand for anything for the next two days, is that clear? Also, during that time you are to put ice on it for a full hour, twice a day."

 *How I do? How wash? How put clothes on?*

 "We ladies will help," Storm reassured her. "Remember, you need not feel ashamed of asking for assistance. Being an X-Man means we all must help each other, whatever the problem is."

 Despite Storm's advice, several days of frustration followed for Alma. Being self-sufficient was, to her, part of "being people". Her ability to take care of herself had become a symbol of accomplishment as well as a source of pride. Now, the need to ask for help in common tasks like tying shoes galled her. The situation wasn't helped by her monthly period arriving out of cycle; she grew sulky, withdrawn and subject to violent mood swings. Logan's attempts to pamper her touched off their first major quarrel.

 *GO AWAY!* she signed with her good hand, her eyes flaming with fury. *I feed myself! Not need help like baby! Just leave alone!*

"Darlin', ya do need help, whether ya like it or not."

 *Not like! Not want! Not child!*

"Yer sure actin' childish!"

 Had Alma been able to scream in rage, she would have. *I tell you go away! This MY room! Not want your help!* She grabbed her pillow and flung it at him. *GO AWAY!*

 "My pleasure!" he snarled, slamming the door behind him.

 For ten minutes she reveled in a full-scale tantrum, kicking her wastebasket and teddy bear across the floor, throwing things until the room was a disaster. Stabbing pain in her injured wrist ended her frenzy as the built-up stress of the past week reached its breaking point. Nausea roiled her stomach; staggering to the bathroom, she retched and vomited until she collapsed in exhaustion. In a half-conscious daze she felt gentle hands lift her, wipe her mouth, and carry her to her bed. More hands stretched her on her stomach, set her head in someone's lap, and began rubbing her aching temples and massaging the knotted muscles of her back and shoulders. Storm's warm voice prompted: "Let it go, Alma. Cry. You need to cry." Something seemed to snap inside her, and Alma buried her face in Storm's lap and bawled until she got the hiccups.

 "What's going on in there?" Cyclops asked his fellow male X-Man. The closed door of Shadow's room bore a scrawled sign: DO NOT DISTURB! (or else!)

 "Hen party," Gambit replied succinctly. "Th' gals all go in dere a good while back, an' dey don' want no guys around. Rogue done t'reaten t'toss Wolverine halfway t' China when he try goin' in."

 Cyclops chuckled. "Bet he didn't like that very much."

 "Non, he go stompin' off somewhere growlin' 'bout women," Gambit replied with a grin and a wink. "Gambit say if women wanna be alone, leave 'em alone. Jus' here t'make sure dey stay alone."

 Alma had no idea how long she lay still, letting her body relax and her mind drift. Slowly she grew aware of the scent of Earl Grey tea, the sound of someone breathing nearby, and something warm and firm wrapped around her good hand. She opened her eyes a little. The room was dark, so she opened them further. A steaming mug was on her bedside table, and Logan was sitting beside her, holding her hand. Though his forehead was creased with worry lines, his smile was gentle and forgiving, and his eyes …

Professor Xavier's eyes were gentle, but his voice was firm. "Alma, I know your GED test is only ten days away, and I'm glad you like physical challenges, but that's no reason to push yourself to the point of collapse or injury." He indicated her still-bandaged wrist. "Dedication is admirable, but it can easily become fanaticism. Your schedule isn't carved in stone, and your leisure time is yours to use as you wish. You are allowed to ask for time off, you know."

 Shadow thought for a while before she replied. *No, I not know. So much change so fast. So-very many people things I not know. My head say you not hit if I do wrong thing, but heart still not sure.*

 Xavier's eyes widened, then he nodded slowly. "I see your point. Healing is a long, slow process. You've improved so quickly and so much in some areas that we tend to forget how badly you've been hurt and how much healing you still need. I fear we may expect too much of you, and your wish to please us and be one of us makes you demand too much of yourself as a result."

 *Hard learn trust. Hard ask for more time learn trust. Hard learn it okay ask.*

"I've had to learn lessons like that, too. I'm so used to helping my students with their various psychological problems that I found it hard to stay out of your mind. Just because you've allowed me to work on your nightmares doesn't give me the right to invade the privacy of your other thoughts. I can't promise the nightmares are gone forever, there's no way to erase the memories without destroying your mind. Even if I could remove them, I wouldn't. They're part of your personality and your past. I've just blocked them so they won't bother you so much. I've done the same with Rogue and Wolverine. This wasn't just to help you, but to help the team as well. You're already part of that team, even if you haven't been on a mission yet."

*Maybe I try so hard because it my way say thank you. Words not enough.*

 He looked thoughtful. "You've been pushing yourself very hard lately, and I think recent events show you haven't fully recovered from those wretched interviews. Heavens, I'm still feeling the aftereffects myself. If I may offer a suggestion, why don't you take the next few days off? Sleep as late as you like and do exactly as you please. Soak in the Jacuzzi, walk in the woods, go on dates with Wolverine or shopping with Jubilee or curl up with a cup of tea and a comic book if that's your pleasure. It'll give your wrist a chance to heal and your heart a chance to learn that this is your home, not a sweatshop."

 It was a time of renewal for Alma as she spent blissful hours loafing and relaxing with flute sonatas and light reading. Hank took her to a symphony concert, she and Rogue and Jubilee went mall-hopping, and the only thing she "learned" was how to French-braid hair by practicing on Storm's long mane (Gambit prudently disappeared). Stress and tension vanished under the balm of deep, dreamless, ten-hour spans of sleep, especially after she and Logan resolved their differences. Refreshed in mind, soul and body by her "vacation", Shadow resumed her studies and training with her usual zest and good humor, and when a special day arrived, she was ready.