Something to get me through my current long project and is most likely a one shot bit.  Contains some uh, intimacy- and yes, I'm surprised this came out of my mind. Harlequinn should hire me after writing this.

Note, this takes place in my own universe where a lot of crap hasn't happened and Remy isn't with Rogue for the ten billionth time in their 'relationship.' Definitely pre-morrison when the mansion was a base for heroes, not a darn juvenile school! Onward!

FYI: Italics indicate a thought.

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"There is an energy field between humans. And, when we reach out in passion, it is met with an answering passion and changes the relationship forever." -Rollo May

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Night settled on Xavier's School for Gifted Youngster's. A rare and cherished occurrence, Peace had rested upon the mansion; in the form of a dark blanket encrusted with diamonds.

In the southwest corner of the mansion's second story, in the flickering shadows of a ceiling fan, a man was trying to sleep. His auburn hair was tussled in a mop of sweat and his red on black eyes burned slowly, piercing the dark of the room. He glanced at his alarm clock which glowed red back at him with the time: 2:47 AM. Sighing, exasperated, he flipped his pillow over and flopped onto it, searching for a cool spot on it.

He had long since kicked his white down comforter and the sheets along with it to the floor. Shortly thereafter, his shirt joined the fabric pile. A mansion full of the most powerful mutants and greatest minds the planet Earth could offer and here they were at the mercy of a busted air conditioner until the next day. "C'est me tue!"

A cool breeze flowed into the room, ruffling the sheer red curtains and he almost thought there was a god when a woman's whisper floated to his ears, "Remy, are you up?" A voice he couldn't forget if he tried. Ororo. So that explained the breeze, there wasn't a god answering his prayers so much as a goddess.

He saw her shadow on the opposite wall and answered, "Oui. What you want? I'm trying to sleep." Even though he was delighted at her arrival, he was still grumpy from the sordid heat.

"Let me in."

"It's open."

"You left the screen locked." she hissed.

Grumbling, he peeled himself off his bed and obliged her by pulling the pins out of the screen so she could climb in. Unfortunately, as soon as her bare feet touched his bedroom carpet, the cool breeze disappeared and was replaced by stagnant humid air. He resented her for the teasing bliss she had unwittingly sent his way.

He was disheveled and cranky and she could see it in the moonlight. If she couldn't sense the pressure in the air, she wouldn't have known the cause of his misery. Her mutant ability allowed her body to adapt to temperature extremes which allowed her to feel as comfortable in shorts at 40 degrees as she did in a winter coat when it was 105.

He headed back to his bed and sat on the foot of the bed. "What d' y' want, Stormy?" he mumbled as he rubbed his eyes before looking up at her, and had to hide his surprise at her choice of pajamas, or lack thereof.

It was no secret that Ororo was not ashamed of her body, and although she was not completely nude, she might as well have been. She put Victoria's Secret models to shame wearing a black lace bra and a matching pair of panties that barely covered just enough to leave the naughty bits to the imagination. Barely.

"What" she glanced down at her 'pajamas' in confusion. "Is something hanging out?" she teased.

"What isn't?" he thought, shaking his head. "If I didn' know y' I'd swear y' were lookin'fo trouble."

"No. Just companionship." She got quiet. "I can't sleep again."

"I figured. C'mere." She trod the remaining distance to his bed and sank down on the queen sized bed against him. He wrapped a strong arm around her and held her close against him, noting how cool her body was despite the stuffy atmosphere.

For the past 2 months, Ororo had sporadically appeared in his bedroom with insomnia issues. He was typically a night owl and she was his best friend, so he didn't mind so much. She never talked about what was bothering her, just always the same answer when he asked her why: she couldn't sleep and she just wanted to be with someone. Such simple requests that he suspected disguised more complex issues.

She lifted her head up to see his face. "You're sweaty."

"And you're ungrateful, petite."

She smiled in the dark. "It was a statement, not a complaint." He noticed the cool breeze now wafting through the room and he shivered slightly at its caress.

"Merci. Now, how c'n I help y' tonight? Same ol' same ol'?"

"That would be nice. I don't think I feel like talking much though."

"So we just sit here in de dark and stare at each other? Can I do it wit my eyes closed?"

She pushed him away and crawled to the top of his bed. She reached over the side and rummaged through the pile of bedding and pulled a pillow out from the mess. Fluffing it, she rested her head, curled up and patted the spot next to her while looking at him and he complied.

No sooner did he settle in beside her she already had herself wrapped around him. She nestled her head on his right shoulder and her right leg wrapped around his and her right arm rested across his flat stomach and hugged him close. "Comfy, neh?" he asked jokingly at her possessiveness.

"Of course." She murmured as she stared at the wall across from her contemplating what a wonderful man he was. A long, thin, frame, Remy was far from weak. She could not explain why she was attracted to him but it was one of those things that was instantaneous. He was not too thin, not too muscular, his hair was cut just perfectly so that it was not too long, not to short and little tendrils would hang down over his face just so, letting his eyes barely show. His eyes. She loved those demon eyes. Red irises on black orbs that spoke volumes and seemed to burn through her, to see her for what she was: a woman, not a goddess.

Yes, Remy was not too much, or too little in any area that she was aware of, her cheeks reddening slightly at the afterthought. He was perfect to her. A great friend, a trustworthy confidante, and he still made her feel wanted. She felt silly but the reason she hadn't been able to sleep wasn't X-men business but personal.

She had caught herself in the mirror wondering what the hell was wrong with her. 29, peak physical shape, and everyone commented on what a great friend she was. Yet, somehow, no suitors were banging down her door. Not one man had shown any interest in her since Forge and well, that just left a bitter taste in her mouth when she thought about it. They had gone through the motions of a loving relationship but as the years passed, she realized that that's all it was. A hollow shell of a love with no burning passion she craved. So, she contented herself to visit her perfect Remy, knowing in her heart that nothing would come of it but she could pretend, couldn't she?

It was her secret joy to visit with him in the night, like she was being naughty even though nothing ever came of it but jovial talks, mild flirtations as usual, and the snuggling. She had come to live for the snuggling. Even on nights she could sleep, she'd feign sleeplessness just to be held in those arms. Wicked as the deceit was, she felt it harmless as there was no way he would be attracted to her now, having been friends so long and his schizophrenic relationship with Rogue. They were on a 'break' right now she reasoned so she had nothing to feel guilty about.

Remy absentmindedly began stroking her white hair with his fingers. It was soft, just as he saw her. Although a very formidable woman raging on the battlefield, he was one of the few who were able to see Ororo as more than an impenetrable wall of ice and recognize the fragile, delicate being she was. He remembered overhearing Kitty and Ororo talking over tea on the patio behind the mansion and Kitty commenting, "Ororo, you're perfect."

Ororo set her cup down, lost at the comment. "What Kitten?"

"I mean, you have the coolest power, you're so gorgeous, and yet, you're so down to earth and nice to people like me. You're perfect."

Ororo smiled at her young companion's flattery, realizing it wasn't so much an accusation as it was admiration. "Thank you Kitty, but remember there are no 'people like you.' You are special to me because of who you are." Remy could see the traces of hurt on Ororo's face even though the girl had given the most admirable compliment. But that was Ororo for you. Even though others saw royalty, she felt undeserved of it. She could never understand how being her made others feel intimidated and it burdened her.

The first night she had come to his room, he was more than concerned, trying vainly to pull answers out of her. He even suggested she talk to Jean for psychic therapy and she laughed, "No, Remy. This is something too minor for that. You're all the therapy I need. It's just me being selfish that's keeping me up." He often wondered what she meant by that. To Ororo, being selfish was eating the last cookie as her first and someone going without seconds. That first night, it had gotten to be 2 AM and she sheepishly looked at him.

"What, chere?"

"Can I sleep here tonight?" She asked, obviously nervous.

"Rarely has a femme actually slept in my bed." A wolfish grin adorning his face.

"Well, we'll see where the night takes us." She grinned back.

After that first night, she had returned later in the week and so began the series of nights when this white haired, dark angel would sneak into his bedroom late at night to reminisce, contemplate life's great mysteries, life after the X-men, and ending up exhausted in his arms. He started leaving the window and the screen unlocked for her let herself in.

The past 2 weeks she hadn't come to visit and he was surprised to find himself disappointed. There was just something right about her in his bed. He had grown accustomed to how she fit just on his shoulder with her legs intertwined with his, blissfully passed out and at peace and had taken to kissing her goodnight on her head, "G'night, Stormy." One night she chastised him in his sleep with a groggy, "Don't call me that," which endeared her all the more to him.

A few days ago, he was shaving, whistling to himself wondering if Ororo minded his stubble at night when it blindsided him. "Mon dieu," he whispered. A light turned on in his head and he wondered when the innocent nights of supporting his friend turned into an ache when she was gone. He was puzzled by this new realization. When did he become attracted to Ororo? Sure, he'd always thought her beautiful and enjoyed her company but somehow, he'd clung to that old image of her as a child and partner in crime. He almost had to. That day when she transformed back to her true form, he almost truly shit a brick at the sight of the gorgeous woman before him. Gone was the gangly bodied, short haired nymph and in her place stood the tall, leggy, curvy and he couldn't help but notice well endowed, platinum-haired woman that was Storm. He had immediately felt dirty having, on a technicality, known her as a child 5 minutes previously. Until recently. "Face it, ami. She always been a woman. You just too dense to accept it."

That was 5 years ago and now, here she was, half naked and wrapped around him. And for one of the few times in his life regarding love and attraction, he was nervous as hell. He was actually beginning to feel grateful for the hot night, at least he could blame his sweat on that. What made him so nervous about handling Ororo was that she was his best friend and he didn't have many. And for how powerful she was, she was surprisingly very delicate.

Ororo sighed and turned over onto her other side wanting to die. This pain of the wanting in her digging like a knife. She remembered Remy studying her in the moonlight 20 minutes earlier and her suddenly becoming embarrassed at her choice of dress. Why would she expect him to be different than any other man? Of course he's going to look at her dressed like a… common street hooker. She became tense with frustration. Why was she always so foolish?

She admitted, she relished the way he looked at her but she felt dubious… her thoughts were interrupted by him turning and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close like a teddy bear and intertwining his left hand with her right. "Goddess"! she melted instantly. Yes, she decided, she was enjoying this for more than it was but she'd be damned if she didn't cherish it.

As he pressed up against her, she couldn't help but notice the stiff bulge in his pants resting against her bottom. She had known that when men get tired, it was just something that happened but it excited her nonetheless. Her heat raced but she forced herself to breathe evenly, feigning sleep. As casual as she could, she quietly moaned like she was tossing and turning in her sleep, pushed herself firmly against him and felt him inhale sharply. She bit her bottom lip, hoping she wasn't pressing her luck and guided his hand that was in hers just up to her chest so the back o fit it was touching her breasts. She didn't realize she was holding her breath.

"Y' pleased with yo' self now?" his voice cut through the dark and she jerked, scared out of her wits.

She grasped for words, trying to vindicate herself, "I have no idea…"

"Sure y' don', mischievous tourte."

She released his hand and turned around, white brows narrowed over baby blues, "I am not a tart!"

"Oui." He nodded grinning at having called her out and somewhat relieved now that he had the upper hand.

Ororo was mortified and her bottom lip started to quiver with her shame, "Well, if that's how you see it, I… should go…" She tried to rise but he held her fast. "Remy, let me go…" Damn him trying to torture her! Not only did he embarrass her but he wanted to revel in it as well! "If you don't let me go, I'll…" Her words were cut off with a fierce, burning kiss. Her body tensed up in resistance at first and then she caved allowing his tongue to enter her mouth, delicately toying with hers.

Satisfied with her reaction, he broke from her mouth and trailed kisses down her neck and collar bone. As he brought a gentle hand up to her breast, a shiver ran through her and she moaned as he returned to her mouth. With one flick of his fingers, her bra came free which she immediately tore off, suddenly feeling restrained by it.

As Remy worked his way all over her body, he never imagined Ororo could writhe with pleasure like she did. And he hadn't even removed her panties yet. As he kissed her once again, she wasted no time and thrust his hand down to her nether regions. He decided he wanted to tease her more so he just stroked the inside of her thighs right next to her panties and she gasped. "You devil!"

"Le diable I am not, mon amour." Passing the lace panties he traced his fingers over her soft, wet womanhood until they teased the folds just outside of her. He was enjoying this more than was legal, he thought. Just as his fingers began to tease her she wrapped arms around him and rocked her hips against his hand, moaning his name as he teased her. He suddenly stopped and withdrew his hand, tasting his fingers as he stared at her, fueled by the lust in her eyes.

"Please…" she whispered, pure desire burning in her eyes. "Why doesn't he just take me already!" She screamed inwardly with closed eyes. It was at that moment she felt his erection resting just outside of her.

"Y' sure, Ororo?" he asked breathlessly, wanting her just as much but not willing to ignore the delicate situation.

"If you don't I will lay you flat on your back and do it myself!" She berated.

He pondered this image a second before answering her wishes with a gentle thrust, sliding into her was like touching an exquisite silk. She couldn't get enough of him and more than eager to meet his hips in matched pace. The pressure inside of both of them was building and she entwined her fingers in his hair and arched her back as her body began to shudder uncontrollably. He tried to pull away from her but she held him fast with her legs and he released inside of her, sending new sensations through her body.

His body shook from the aftermath and he brushed a lock of hair from her eyes and placed it behind her ear. "'Ro, I… I'm sorry... I tried."

She shushed him and he pulled him next to her with smug satisfaction at the warmth throughout her. "Do not concern yourself over it." They lay there in silence, two naked lovers clinging to each other in the dark, not wanting to think of tomorrow. They were beginning to drift off to sleep when she murmured, "Shame on you making me wait so long."

"How long?" He asked.

"5 years." She whispered before turning her back to him.

He reached over the side of the bed, pulled the sheet up to cover them and smiled at the shadow of her curves on the wall and the realization of what had taken place. He pulled her close, breathing in deeply of her natural scent. "G'night Stormy." He kissed her head before whispering, "Love you."

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