Wolverine pulled into a gas station just outside of New York City, taking his wallet from Kitku, he checked their finances. They would be fine for the moment. He had lost all his other ID and, if he had one, an ATM card to withdraw more funds. He filled up the tank, bought a pack of cigarettes, a lighter and grabbed a beer and a soda, and a candy bar for the kid. It would have to tide her over until they found a place to eat. He wanted to make more time on the road before stopping for the night.

He walked out of the Quick Mart, Kitku was coming out of the bathroom. She had tried to comb her hair and clean up her face. He handed her the soda and opened his beer.

"Thanks, Wolvie," she opened it and took a long drink.

"You doin' okay, Kit?"

"Yeah," she replied quietly looking at her feet.

"Here," he handed her the candy bar. Her eyes got wide. "What?"

"Well, I just...I haven't had candy in awhile," she took the candy and put it in her pocket. "I mean...I just never spent my money on that kinda stuff."

Wolverine put his arm around her shoulder as they walked to the bike. He lifted her up on the back of the cycle. "Don't sweat it, kiddo. You deserve it."

"Thanks, Wolvie," she smiled at him. He ruffled her hair and handed her the helmet.

He pulled the bike out onto the highway into the sparse traffic. He had bought a map and was staying to the least traveled highways, figuring that whoever was after them would not be able to track them so easily. He felt Kitku wrap her arms around his waist and lean against his back. He hoped against all that he was doing the right thing.

They traveled until twighlight and rode into a town off the main highway. He pulled the bike into an inexpensive clothing store. They went in and Wolverine purchased jeans, tee-shirts, thermals, and sweatshirts. He found a leather jacket and Yankee's baseball cap for Kitku. He also grabbed a duffel bag to carry their newly acquired clothes.

Outside the store, Wolverine removed the tags from the leather jacket while she packed the duffel bag. He helped Kitku put the jacket on. It was a little big, but warm. As they started to cross the parking lot Kitku took his hand.

The next stop on their route was a small diner for dinner. Wolverine opened the door for her and found a booth. The waitress, a tall brunette with dark brown eyes, her name tag read 'Myrtle' came over to their table and handed them menus.

"Hey," she said. She looked at Kitku and said in a slight Southern drawl, "Well, aren't you a pretty little thang."

Kitku giggled, blushed and buried her face into Wolverine's arm. He looked down at her and smiled, squeezing her hand. He gave the waitress a small smile, "Thanks."

"Sweetheart, you're gonna have to beat the boys back with a stick when your little girl gets older." She grinned at Kitku.

Wolverine stared at her uncomprehending of what she meant, then slowly it dawned on him. "Yeah, a big stick."

Mertyle laughed, touching his shoulder, "Can I start ya with something to drink, hon?"

"Yeah, a coke and an iced tea," Wolverine said looking at her. She was a good looking woman, long legs, a bit on the thin side, but the way she carried herself, she made it clear that she was no pushover. She could handle any rowdy trucker that came her way.

"Comin' right up, hon." She cracked her gum, gave another smile and went to the next table, "Hi, Joe, what'll it be today?"

Wolverine disentangled Kitku from her hiding place. "Come on, kiddo, lets order."

Kitku, reluctantly picked up the menu. She frowned and set the menu down. "Just a burger."

Her reluctance did not escape Wolverine's eye. "Don'cha wanna see if there's somethin' else ya want?"

She lowered her head and whisper, "I can't."

"Come 'ere, Kit." He pulled her up onto his lap and opened his menu for them to look at together. He read the kid's meals to her.

"Chicken," she said, smiling up at him.

"Chicken it is, darlin'."

Mertyle brought them their drinks, Kitku slid off his lap and turned her attention to her drink.

"Ready to order?"

"Yeah, kid's chicken dinner with fries and the special." He handed her the menus.

She nodded and went to place their orders. Wolverine pulled out a pack of smokes, lit one, inhaling deeply. Suddenly he felt Kitku slide off the bench and onto the floor. He peered under the table about to ask her what she thought she was doing when a commotion at the register caught his attention. Two men, and with guns had entered the diner. One was a blond, well-built kid, obviously the brains had his weapon pointed at the manager. The other was dark haired, slightly overweight kid, not yet out of his teens, had Myrtle and was forcing her to take a sack and go to the customers and get their wallets and other valuables. They stopped at Wolverine's table.

"Come on, come on," the dark haired kid ordered, he was sweating and scared. "Give it over."

Wolverine didn't move. Mertyle looked at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was then again maybe not.

"Didn't you hear me?" The pistol wavered. "Give it to me."

"Sure, bub."

From under the table, Kitku smashed the guy's shins with her bat just as Wolverine grabbed the kid's wrist and in a fluid motion twisted it, the sounds of breaking bones could be heard. Mertyle twisted out of the room. As the kid started to fall, Wolverine grabbed his hair and smacked the boy's forehead into the table, knocking him out cold.

"Hey!" the blond yelled, "What the hell? You playin' hero today, asshole?"

"Me?" Wolverine pointed to himself. "Not me, kid. Heroes have a short life span. So, the question is, bub, are you willin' to play hero?"

The blond was at the table now, the pistol pointed at Wolverine's head. "Smartass. Now, you're gonna pay for it."

Wolverine's eyes narrowed. He felt his blood starting to rage, a soft growl escaped him. "Do tell."

Too scared or too stupid of himself to realize what or who he was dealing with, the blond cocked back the hammer. Kitku shoved her bat into his crotch. Wolverine quickly put his hand over the muzzle in case the weapon fired as the blond doubled over in pain. Wolverine grimaced in sympathy.

"That's gonna leave a mark." He easily twisted the gun out of the blonde's hand and knocked him out with a well placed punch to the back of his head. He set the pistol on the table next to the first one, stood, took off his belt and tied up the blond. The man seated behind him copied Wolverine's actions on the dark haired thug.

"Thanks, mister," he said after they finished. He extended his hand to Wolverine.

"Ah, yeah, no problem." Wolverine shook the guy's hand and tried to accept the applause and thank yous with a gracious attitude but he was more concerned with Kit.

Kitku was peering over the top of the table, checking her surroundings. She hopped up on the bench and threw herself at Wolverine, giving him a big hug. "Good job."

"Thanks," he said gruffly, "You weren't so bad yourself, kid."

"Thanks."

A few moments later the sheriff and a couple of deputies arrived and surveyed the scene. The deputies took the two men out to the cars and then came back to finish questioning everyone. Their stories were all the same and all pointed to the man with the little girl as the hero.

The sheriff, a slightly overweight and underworked man, walked over to Wolverine.

"I'm Sheriff Bradkey."

Wolverine nodded at him.

"It's my understanding that you took these two guys down by yourself, that true?" He puffed on his cigar.

"Guess so." Wolverine wasn't sure where this was leading, but he didn't like it. He slid Kitku down beside him.

Kitku looked from Wolverine to Bradkey. She could feel the tension and was scared. She took hold of his hand and squeezed. The sheriff drew himself up to his full height looking down at Wolverine.

"Well, sir, I'm not saying we don't appreciate what you've done, but you could have been seriously hurt or worse yet, killed. Then where would your little girl be, huh?"

Kitku squeezed his hand harder as a soft growl emitted from his chest. He looked down at her and nodded, he got the message. He always had a problem with authority, especially when it was directed at him. "I get the message."

"Good, good." Bradkey waved a deputy over and had him take his and Kitku's statement.

An hour later, when the sheriff and the deputies had left, Mertyle brought them their food.

"Don't listen to that airbag," she said to Wolverine, "He just goes on sometimes. I think ya did great, hon. You should be proud of your daddy."

"I am," Kitku beamed at her.

"No charge for the meal, sweets, and if you're here in the morning, samething goes. The manager figured it was the least he could do."

"Thanks," Wolverine replied, a bit uncomfortable with all the attention. He averted his eyes to his meal and began eating.

"No problem, hon." She ruffled Kitku's hair and went to take care of her other customers.

Kitku and he finished their meals in a comfortable silence. He left a generous tip and tried to pay for the meal anyway, but the manager would not hear of it and insisted that Wolverine and his daughter come back tomorrow for breakfast. He assured the manager that they would and left the diner.

He found an inexpensive hotel and got one with two double beds. They went in, checked the room out, and unpacked their clothing. Wolverine pulled out the pajamas that Kitku had picked out and laid them out in the bathroom with a toothbrush and toothpaste. She went in and took a shower, brushed her teeth and got dressed. She came out followed by a rolling cloud of steam, brushing her wet hair.

"Your turn, Wolvie."

"Yep." He got up from one of the two chairs, put out his cigarette, grabbed his clean clothes, "Hope ya left me some hot water."

Kitku covered her mouth trying to surpress a giggle.

The bathroom was a disaster. Wet towels everywhere, the floor was a puddle of water, and toothpaste was all over the counter. He shook his head and tried to find a not so soaked towel as he shut to door.

Scott Summers threw down Logan's ID. Nightcrawler had found it in the jeep between the seats. "Well, now we know he can't be identified."

"Ja." Kurt balanced himself on the back of the chair, his tail swishing through the air.

Jean smiled to herself, no matter how much time she spent around Kurt, he never ceased to amaze her with his sense of balance. "And he is without the ability to get money."

"True, but he's resourceful," Scott added. He sat down at the War Room table, rubbing his chin in thought. "The trail is cold. We've got nothing new to go on. The Avengers gave us their information."

"Which waz not much," Nightcrawler scowled.

"No, it wasn't. And the news has broadcast the fact that Logan and Omega Red went at it in Chinatown and now the tabloids are digging their teeth into it."

"Ja, my favorite vas the one vhere Wolverine and Omega Red vere duking it out over a voman," Kurt chuckled and the comment even drew a small smile from Cyclops.

"I'm going to try Cerybro." Jean went over to the telepathic enhancer, sat down, and put on the helmet. "I don't know what else to do."

"It's the best shot we've got right now, Jean. Just don't over do it." Scott stood and stretched. "Come on, Kurt, let's go see if there was something downtown we might have missed."

Nightie nodded and teleported from the War Room leaving behind a puff of smoke and a loud 'BAMF'. Scott waved his hand in front of his face and Jean wrinkled her nose.

"Brimstone," she muttered, "I'll never get used to that smell."

"No one will," he agreed. He bent down and kissed her gently on her lips. "We'll be back soon. And remember, don't stay on there too long."

"Of course not," she lied. She was going to stay on there as long as possible. She was worried about her friend and her teammate. Logan was one of her closest friends. She understood him better than anyone and even had felt a kinship with him. But she could never let herself get too close to him, there was an attraction between them that would never be resolved. It was too raw for her, he was too wild for her. Jean knew that Scott was the man for her, he was steady and strong willed. Logan was much too out of control for her and if she was involved with him, she would loose herself in his world and that could prove to be very dangerous for a telepath. But that didn't stop her from caring or loving him from a distance.

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. She leaned back in the chair and let her power reach out through Cerebro to find Logan.

Kitku was watching the TV when Logan stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a tee-shirt, toweling his hair. He paused beside the TV and watched Wily Coyote go over a cliff followed by a large boulder. He tossed the towel over his shoulder towards the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the bed next to Kitku and finished watching cartoons with her.

"You like the Roadrunner?"

Wolverine shrugged, "Never really watched it."

"I like it. I used to watch it down at Chang's TV Repair. He used to let me come in and watch for awhile. I'd help him sweep up around the store." She was sitting cross legged on the bed, in her baseball styled pajamas. Her hair was shiny black, shoulder length with bangs.

"You clean up good, kid."

"So do you, mister." She gave him a sidelong glance. "You smell better too."

"Thanks," he snarled sarcastically.

"Hey, you weren't ridin' downwind." She shoved him playfully.

"Tomorrow you can drive." He pushed her over onto her side.

"Cool!" she yelled gleefully as she pounced on his back and tried to wrestle him down.

"Whale think your doin', kid?"

He flipped her over his shoulder and onto the floor in front of him, tickling her until she yelped, "Uncle!"

She jumped up and ran for the bathroom. Wolverine chuckled and shook his head.

Who'd 'Ave. thought that I'd end up with a kid like this? Horsing around like this? he thought to himself. He was sure that he once knew another little girl. He got a visual picture of a skinny, brown haired, just turning into a teenager. Kitty? Was that her name?

He knew he had been close with Kitty and that they had been through a great deal together, something that happened in Japan. He had succeeded with her, saved her and hoped that he wouldn't let Kitku down. Those bastards that had been waiting at the mission were not going to let up, especially now that they knew she was alive. But would they pursue her outside of Chinatown or even New York?

His thoughts were interrupted by Kitku.

"Hey, Wolvie?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm thirsty."

"'Kay." He pulled on his boots and grabbed his jacket. "Don't open the door for anyone? Hear me?"

"Yes," she said rolling her eyes.

"I ain't playin', darlin'."

The intensity of his voice startled her out of her snotty attitude. "Yes, Wolverine."

He nodded and shut the door behind him.

Kitku made sure the door was locked behind him and heard the motorcycle start up and take off. She figured he was going to a store for beer as well as soda. She sighed and sat down in front of the TV, flipping the channels.

She was still changing channels when there was a knock at the door. She moved a chair in front of the door and stood on it and looked through the peephole. It was the sheriff.

"Yes?" she called out.

"Sheriff Bradkey. Open up."

"I'm not supposed to Wol...Dad told me not too."

"Smart man, but I'm an officer of the law, you can open the door for me." He puffed on his cigar and adjusted his gun belt.

"Well..."

"You can open the door or I can go and get the manager to do it for me."

Kitku climbed down, moved the chair and opened the door. Bradkey came in and started checking around the room, picking up their clothes and inspecting them, trying to look casual.

"So," he said finally, "your his daughter, huh?"

Kitku crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes, "No, I'm his sex slave."

Bradkey turned and glared at her.

"Yes, I'm his daughter, duh." Kitku rolled her eyes. "What is it that you want?"

"Just checking on people who come through my town. I like to know what everyone's business is, if you know what I mean?" He puffed on his cigar.

"Not really," she waved a hand in front of her nose, trying to get that obnoxious smell away from her. "I'm only ten."

"Yeah. Mind?" he gestured to a chair.

"I guess not, it's your town."

His laugh had a very snide sound to it and sent a chill up Kitku's spine. "That it is. That it is. So, where is your Daddy?"

"He went to the store. He'll be back anytime."

"So, how is it that your Chinese and he isn't?"

"Well, duh, my mom was Chinese." She paced a bit, getting nervous. He was studying her and she didn't like it, not one bit. Every instinct in her body screamed for her to run.

"Where is your mom?"

"Dead."

"Sorry to hear that." He smirked. She was hiding something and he was getting a perverse pleasure out of the fact he made her nervous. "When did she..."

"....And in other news, the search for the man who faced Omega Red is still on. The Avengers and the police, working in conjunction with each other, are looking for this man," a picture of Wolverine appeared on the news. It was a still from a video. "He's described as being between five foot and five foot four, black hair, wearing a black tee-shirt, a tan sheepskin jacket and blue jeans."

Kitku inched her way towards the door.

"This is a photo of the man taken from a video shot by a tourist. The Avengers and the police would like to question him about the fight and any possible information he may have."

"Well, well, well," Bradkey smirked. "I guess my instincts were right."

"Police and the Avengers also believe," the news continued, "that a little girl, who was at the scene, may also have some information. If you see them, please contact your local police or the Avengers' hotline number. In other news...."

Kitku reached for the doorknob when she heard the hammer being drawn on his pistol.

"Hold it," Bradkey ordered.

Wolverine pulled into a small grocery store, nodded to the old man behind the counter. He glanced at two other men playing checkers. Small town, simple folks, peaceful. He liked that, it was comfortable. He went to the cooler and grabbed a six pack of beer and a six pack of Coke, grabbed some chips and pork rinds and went over the counter.

"Evening," the old man said.

"Evenin'" Wolverine nodded.

"Hey," one of the guys called out from the checker game.

Wolverine glanced over his shoulder.

"You're the guy from the diner, ain't you?"

He shrugged.

The man stood, walked over and extended his hand. "Thanks, I just wanted to say that."

Wolverine glanced at the extended hand and tentatively took it. "Yeah."

"See, Mertyle, the waitress? She's my wife. I just wanted to thank you for saving her life."

"Ah, yeah, your welcome." He started to put the money on the counter but Mertyle's husband caught him by the wrist. Wolverine's head snapped up.

"Wait a sec, just wanted to pay for this for you. Least I could do and all." He pulled out his wallet and put the money on the counter. "Please."

Wolverine nodded as the old man put his groceries in a paper bag. "Much obliged, mister."

"Hell, I'm the one who should be obliged." He grinned.

"Yeah, well, don't sweat it. Evenin'." Wolverine nodded to all of them, went outside and climbed on the bike. He adjusted the bag and started the engine.

"Wolverine."

He involuntarily jumped and looked around. No one.

"I'm so glad I finally found you," the voice said.

"What in the blazes..."

"You need not speak aloud, Wolverine. I'm telepathically communicating with you," the female's voice continued, "It's me, Jean. Jean Grey."

"What's it to you?" he snarled mentally. "And how do I know it ain't a set up or somethin'?"

"You don't. You'll just have to trust your instincts. Try to remember, Logan, you're an X-Man. Your code name is Wolverine. Scott is Cyclops. Kurt is Nightcrawler. You've got to try to remember." She took on a mental picture of herself in his head. She was the red head from his memories, the one he had feelings for and had thought they were lovers. Her mental image blushed but quickly regained control. "So, you do remember me!"

"Listen to me, Logan, I'm going to tell the others I have found you and we're going to wire you your money and send out your wallet with your ID. You've got a lot of people out looking for you and some of them aren't looking to help you." Her image stepped closer to his image. "I wanted to warn you that the Tong is looking for that little girl..."

"Yes, Kitku and they want her dead. I found this out when I was scanning Chinatown for you. Be careful, Wolverine, a man by the name of Viper is very interested in her. I'll do what I can to throw him off your trail." Jean closed her eyes. "You need to get back to the hotel room. Kitku's in trouble."

Wolverine was already pulling onto the street at the mention of Kitku's name.

"I can't help you right now, I've exhausted myself looking for you, but I will let her know that you are on your way. Hurry, Wolverine, and be careful of that sheriff. Don't trust him."

Her image began to fade. "I'll be in contact with you later. Good luck."

"Luck ain't got nuthin' to do with it, darlin', just plain skill."

Jean smiled and faded out. Wolverine shook his head. Great, now I'm trustin' gorgeous women who just happen to pop into my head and start gabbin' at me.

Bradkey had waved Kitku away from the door and into a chair. The girl was about to transform and knock some sense into this country sheriff when a woman spoke in her head.

"Kitku. Don't be frightened."

She held her cool and didn't show her startlement. "What?"

"I'm a friend of Wolverine's. My name is Jean Grey. He is on his way. Don't do anything until he gets here. Do you understand?"

"I guess so." her mental voice quivered.

"Do you or don't you?" Jean's voice held an edge.

"Yes. Cripes."

"Sheriff Bradkey is not to be trusted. Be careful what you say, Kitku."

"Sure."

"All right," she answered but the lady was already gone. Kitku turned her full attention back to the sheriff and sat where he indicated.

"Now what, sir?" she asked as sarcastically as she could.

"Don't go getting smart, young lady. You're in a lot of trouble and so is your Dad, if that's who he really is." He pulled back the curtains a bit and surveyed the parking lot. "I just knew there was something about the two of you the minute I saw you at the diner. Call it intuition."

"Paranoid is more like it," she muttered.

"I warned you once, I ain't warning you again, girl." He towered over her, glaring.

"Sor." Kitku swung her chair away from him, putting her back to him. She had to keep him away from the window. "You were saying?"

"Point is, punk, that I got a call from some friends of mine in the government and they said that you might be coming this way." He puffed up at the mention of government friends.

Kitku snorted, a small time man trying to be a big shot. He wasn't much different than the small time gangs that ran in her neighborhood trying to be like the Tong.

"So, I did and I called them back and they're on their way here." He walked in front of her, his back to the bathroom. "I wasn't sure until I saw your Dad on the news if I had the right people. Not many white Fathers running around with a slant for a daughter."

"Bite me," she snarled at the racial slur.

"You're being to grate my nerves, punk."

"Yeah," she glared at him, voice in her head or not, she had had it with this blowhard. "Well, you've just grated mine, you bigoted son of a bitch."

He grabbed her by the face, "You're not only a smart mouth but you've got a filthy one to boot. I oughta..."

"Oughta what, bub?" Wolverine growled near his ear. He grabbed Bradkey's pistol, easily taking it from the sheriff.

"You're...you're...un..under arrest," he stammered. He had not heard the man enter the room.

"Do tell?" Wolverine bent Bradkey's arms behind his back and handcuffed him. "Way I see it, bub, is that you're the one who's been cuffed. You okay, kid?"

"Yeah," Kitku stood up, faced the sheriff and kicked him in the crotch. "Slant that, jerk-face."

"You really like those crotch shots, don'cha, kid?" Wolverine smiled at her as she stomped by.

"Only on those that shouldn't breed," she glared over her shoulder. "Ever."

Wolverine grinned, "Get our stuff, darlin', we're outa here."