Okay I had another one hit me. Yes I know I have unfinished ones, and blame the blockage monster - and a few real world blockages - at least the creative juices are flowing in some direction.

Summary: We all know that the most successful hunters, serial killers, and psychopaths hide in plain sight, successfully blending in with normal society. Logically, Sabretooth should follow that trend. I've written him in a normal environment before, but not like this. 25 years after Origins, Origins Sabretooth/Victor CreedXOC. (Yes that puts him 'working' during X1, I am assuming the events of X1 took place over spring break, and that Creed has some control of how to alter his appearance so he is not 'recognized' in his 'day job.')

Disclaimer: I don't own them, no really I don't. I swear I make nothing off of this except the satisfaction to get some sick stuff out of my head safely.

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"And x over y squared equals positive or negative eight." He wrote the last part of the equation on the whiteboard and capped the pen with a forceful click. "Any questions?" He paused. "If not, I have a few announcements. I will not be in class next week, my TA will cover the rest of chapter nine. The mid-term exam is two weeks from Wednesday, so please study, and Katherine Gracefield, please remain after class."

She groaned. What did he want? She knew he wasn't sucking up to her dad like more than a few of her other professors had, she wouldn't have passed Algebra I without a little sycophanting, but he was different. The others owed their jobs to Dean Gracefield, but not him. He'd been tenured before her father made chair and. It was no secret in the Math and Sciences Department that the chair was out to get rid of Professor Creed. Not that he could, Professor Creed was one of the best advanced calculus and physics professors the college had, and even her dad admitted Creed was a better teacher than he was.

This was the first time she'd been asked to stay after classes and knew it was her grades. Before the Professors had 'adjusted' them so she wouldn't fail, but she knew Creed wouldn't do a favor for her dad. She had to pass this class. Dean Gracefield expected nothing less than a PhD in Applied Mathematics from his only child and would not take no for an answer, even if she didn't even understand what she was supposed to learn in class.

She waited until the last students left the room before getting up from her seat at the back and walking slowly to the desk up front, her bag digging into her shoulder.

"What is this?" He dropped her last quiz paper on the desk. "How the hell did you even...never mind I know how. Your father isn't going to help you this time. Hell, I don't know how you passed business math much less algebra." He was calm but it was a controlled calm, like when a person wants to break something and is holding themself back.

"I have to pass..." She started.

"Not in my class you don't." He said. "My advice, withdraw and go someplace else where your talents would be useful - basketweaving maybe." She flinched.

"Please, Professor Creed, if I don't pass this class my dad will kill me." She meant it, at least he'd kick her out in the street with nothing but the clothes on her back. Her dad didn't suffer failure in anything.

"That's not my problem."

"Please..."

"You have until the mid-term exam, if I don't see any improvement I am recommending you for Academic Probation and investigation into your record for academic misconduct. I'd hit the tutoring lab if I were you." She grabbed the paper on the desk and ran from the room.

"Stupid frail, never shoulda passed pre algebra, what were those idiots thinking?" She heard him mumble...under his breath...from down the hall. She shook her head. She had to have imagined it.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

He'd caught the scent a week ago, tracked down which student was manifesting, and he'd be damed if it wasn't the Gracefield kid. It would have to be the spoiled kid of the prick out to get him canned. They couldn't touch him on the mutation, the new Equal Rights for Genetic Anomalies Act put a stop to discrimination based on mutation, besides he had 15 years tenure, they weren't going to fire him unless he did something really stupid, and for the last fifteen years he'd been very careful. His little trip would keep the beast at bay just a bit longer, until his Summer Sabbatical, and Fury had a few jobs lined up for him to satisfy it for a long while.

He grumbled under his breath as he gathered his books and notes to take back to his office. James would laugh at him, after all these years in academia, if he knew. As yet, the Runt was still memoryless and a lap dog of Xavier. That old man was still cheating death, and preaching morals and ethics to young mutants, the hypocrite.

He slammed his office door and heard the TA outside squeak in terror. He grinned, yes a week away was going to help. He couldn't afford to lose another assistant this semester. It was hard enough getting one to agree to work with him in the first place.

He dropped into the chair behind his desk. He looked up at the huge mirror mounted on the wall across from him. He laughed out loud. His hair was pulled back in a tie, since Fury recruited him six years ago, he'd refused to cut it, just on principle. It hadn't been this long since the Statue of Liberty. He grinned at himself. The steel grey eyes glinted with humor, but he could see the blood lust burning in their depths. His face hadn't aged, not in over one-hundred and fifty years, and wouldn't for another hundred and fifty barring unforeseen circumstances. He was dressed in a button down shirt and jeans and even he chuckled at the pocket protector...it looked frail, but reduced the dry cleaning bill.

Since SHIELD froze his assets he'd been living on his Professor's salary. Sometimes he missed the luxury, his homes, unlimited funds to do what he wanted when he wanted, but only sometimes. He liked teaching, liked what he was doing, as long as the animal stayed at bay.

He sorted through the papers on his desk, piling the un-graded homework and quizzes for the TA while he was gone. He organized his notes and put them in a folder for her to use in the lectures next week. He had supervision of the math lab tonight, so he collected some of his research to work on while the idiots drove the TAs insane. He seriously doubted the Gracefield kid would take his advice. Why should she, her father might be a prick, but he was one of the best mathematical minds of his era, she could just go to daddy for help with his class, just like she'd done before.

He thought about the rumors, that a few of her teachers had tried to take advantage of her, and dismissed them out of hand. No one in the Math and Sciences department would dare touch the Dean's kid, not if they wanted to keep their job. But... He remembered the smell of fear, not the scared kind, pure terror he'd smelled when he threatened to turn her in for Academic Misconduct.

No, it had been when she said her father would kill her. She was terrified of her father. He glanced in the mirror and watched the cold, humorless smile spread across his face. He had a weapon. He wasn't sure how he would use it yet, or even if he would need it, but having it was another layer of security in his carefully created public persona.

XXxxxxxxxxxx

She dragged herself across campus to the dorm. She refused to live with her dad, she loved him, she just couldn't live with him. She made up one excuse after another, a disabled room mate, the extra money in her savings account from the faculty discount on her room and board. As long as she made Sunday dinners and stopped by twice a week to run a vacuum and clean the bathrooms - he was too cheap and to hire a maid and too disinterested to do it himself - he didn't really care where she lived.

Her head was pounding, not her usual 'I hate math' headache, but like her skull was trying to split in two. Her jaw even hurt like something was trying to push through it. She stumbled and fell on the side walk.

"Are you okay?" A girl asked as she pulled Kathy back to her feet.

"Yeah, just tripped I guess," Kathy said. "Thanks." The girl nodded and ran off toward a group of students that stopped and stood watching her.

She grabbed her bag strap tighter and started walking past.

"Freak!" One of them shouted as she hurried past. She shuddered. Why were they calling her a freak? She looked down, avoiding anyone and everyone until she reached the elevator in the dorm. Usually she took the stairs up the three flights to her room, but her head hurt too much. She thought it was going to explode in the elevator, and she stumbled out the doors as soon as they opened.

She dropped on her bed, ignoring her roommate who looked up from her books as the room door slammed behind Kathy.

"Pissed much?" Valarie asked.

"No, just in pain. My head is killing me - and my stomach."She said as she curled into a ball on the bed.

"Kath, you're burning up." Valarie's hand felt like ice in her neck. "Let me get you some Tylenol." Kathy shook her head violently.

"No, it would just come right back up." She moaned. "Just let me try to sleep."

She heard Val walk back to her desk. "I was just trying to help."Kathy heard Val mutter. It was barely a whisper but Kathy heard it clearly.

Everything around her hurt, her eyes ached, and only really stopped when she closed her eyes. Her ears were throbbing and it seemed as if she could hear everything, the sound of Val flipping pages was nearly deafening. Her clothes were painful on her skin, as if made of sand or broken glass. Her mouth tasted horrible, the overpowering mint of her mouthwash that morning making her gag uncontrollably, and for some reason some of her teeth felt longer.

She curled tighter into a ball, and pulled her pillow over her head. That helped to muffle the noise - and somehow the god awful stench that seemed overpowering in the room.

Xxxxxxxxx

He finished up in his office and shut off the light. Just a few hours and he would have some relief, something to sate the burning need to feel the blood on his claws. He blamed himself - and James a little, if it hadn't been for the Runt he could have just hidden in the wilderness, hunted animals for the bloodlust and just avoided humans and their mess. But he'd had Jimmy to take care of, feed, clothe, teach, and the best way to teach him what he was - was war. Now the occasional animal kill just made him want more. He could sometimes get enough thrill from the hunt, but the only thing that sated it was hunting the most dangerous predator on the planet - man, in all its myriad forms. He had a hunt next week, and should be back in control when he returned to class.

He climbed into his black SUV, and rested his hands on the wheel, his claws itching and he allowed himself to let them lengthen. He stretched his back and smiled, the tinted windows allowing him the small moment of privacy away from the prying eyes of the students that passed. He started the car and turned on the vent to get the scent of baked leather out of the car before he drove off.

The Gracefield kid walked past her head slumped, and even through the glass of the car he could smell the pain radiating from her. He almost let it go, but another scent came through the vents, he knew she was manifesting a mutation but he hadn't expected this. She was feral. He leaned back and grinned watching her walk past. That changed things a bit. He didn't have time to check on it now, but if she was developing a healing factor, whatever pain she was in should be gone by next week. She was late coming into her power, and it would progress faster because of it. Jimmy had taken years, from the time the claws came out, Victor barely remembered when his started, he'd been so young, he almost couldn't remember a time without it.

He put the car in gear and backed out of his spot. He'd check on her next week when he got back, right now, SHIELD was waiting, and he had a gang of anti mutant thugs in New York City to deal with.