May 10-16, 2010
I've been reading X-Men (movie and Evo) fanfiction about Wolverine lately and thought of something today (10th) on my way home after my first final exam.
This is the spiraled-out-of-control result. As usual. Lol.
Humorous romance, set sometime after season four, maybe? Before my other ROLO romance stuff…
Notes: This was going to be set at a different point in the series, but I realized my continuity was off. So I changed it.
This is kinda long and rambling, but it wouldn't shut up. And my humor is a bit twisted and suggestive, but hey.
You could take this as a potential way Ro and Logan could get together, I suppose… I'm calling it random sappiness.
I'm totally making up their first encounter. I don't know what happened, just that Logan seemed to know Charles before he became a "permanent" resident of the 'Tute.
And I own nothing.
She thought she could hide it from him, he realized with a chagrined chuckle.
Maybe she could hide the physical evidence from the other males in the Mansion, but Logan's heightened senses—mostly his sense of smell—picked up on everything. There was no way she could hide the fact from him.
And right now, it was really bothering him.
The rest of the Mansion had left an hour ago on a field trip to the lake, but Ororo had declined, mumbling something about wanting more time to plan lessons, which left the two of them alone in the large building. (His excuse had been double-checking the new security system, which he'd done—in an hour. Mostly he just wanted a little time away from the kids, but he wouldn't tell them that.)
Logan knew what Ororo's real reason for staying behind was, but tried not to let on—which was harder than it sounded, but he was doing his best.
He almost felt sorry for her, but he was more worried about himself. God only knew what Ororo might do while her emotions were acting up.
A brief lightning strike outside startled him, and he snorted.
Calm down, Ro, he thought, meandering his way to Ororo's bedroom and walking through to the bathroom.
He stopped in the doorway, a smirk crossing his face as he watched Ororo pretend not to clench one hand into a fist as she brought her other hand up to the medicine cabinet above the sink.
Logan strode quickly over to the cabinet, opening the door and pulling out the bottle of Midol he figured she was going for.
He handed it to her, smirking at the blush she tried to hide. He could sense the embarrassment and annoyance, and his smirk only grew as he backed up and leaned against the doorjamb.
He could practically see a cloud forming above Storm's head as she glared at him, popping two pills into her mouth and taking the glass of water he offered before frowning at him.
"Do you need something, Logan?"
He laughed, the sound coming out a bit like a snort, and replied, "No, but I think you might…"
His gaze moved down toward her legs and he raised his eyebrows, his gaze locking back onto hers.
Ororo's blush intensified as she realized what he meant and she snapped at him, her frown turning into a glare as sparks filled the air.
"Out!" she commanded, flinging her arm toward the door.
Logan raised his hands in surrender, closing the door as he backed out of the room.
Content to wait and having nothing else to do anyway, he settled himself on the edge of Ororo's bed, leaning backward with his palms resting behind him on the comforter.
When the bathroom door opened and Ororo stepped out—looking quite a bit calmer, to Logan's relief—he didn't move, just sat and watched her.
She was upset, he could smell it, but she was trying not to show it. Why, he didn't know, since by now she knew he could pick up on things, but she was trying.
"Feel better?" he asked, smirking as he leaned forward, elbows moving to his knees.
"If you must know, yes," Ororo sighed, crossing her arms and leaning back against the wall. "Thank you."
"No problem."
He stood then, meandering his way nonchalantly over to Ororo, stopping just a foot in front of her.
Her eyebrows rose in annoyed curiosity, and Logan chuckled to himself as he put his hands on the wall, one on either side of her shoulders.
Ororo inhaled deeply as she closed her eyes, and he could smell the attempt she made to quell her anger.
He was soon distracted, however, by the exhaled air that hit his face, filling his nose. He tensed up as Ororo's eyes opened, staring into eyes that swam with frustration and … something else he couldn't quite place.
Ororo pinched the bridge of her nose, gritting her teeth, and Logan debated for a moment before moving his hands from the wall to her arms, guiding her gently over to the chair by the window.
As he sat her down, Logan squeezed her shoulders, massaging the back of her neck.
After a few moments, Ororo relaxed under his touch, almost leaning back into his hands, and he chuckled, a smile curving his lips upward.
Ororo sighed, leaning forward a bit, and Logan stopped moving his hands for a second, only to hear her murmur, "Lower, please?"
He hesitated for a moment, then moved his fingers down her back, surprised when he heard a low groan from his colleague.
"Right…there!" Ororo sighed as his hands found a spot just to the left of her spine.
Logan bit his lip and stopped massaging her back for a moment, and Ororo peered at him curiously as he knew she would.
He held up a finger, disappearing into the bathroom and returning with a towel. With an apologetic smirk, he laid the towel on top of the bed and perched on the edge, motioning for her to lie down.
Ororo frowned, but stood and did as he suggested, and he resumed his task, using the heels of his hands and pressing a little harder now. He quirked an eyebrow when he picked up on her pulse quickening but stayed silent.
Ororo sighed, though the sound was not as relaxed as she probably hoped it was, resting her head on her arms and closing her eyes.
Slowly, Logan's courage built, and he carefully moved his hands a little lower, closer to her waist. He heard Ororo's breath catch and her heartbeat quicken, but the way her muscles tensed was almost imperceptible under his hands. It was so minute that he thought he'd imagined it, but her pulse gave her away. Anyone else would have missed it, but not him…
He kept massaging anyway, figuring she would stop him when she grew too uncomfortable.
Eventually, Ororo relaxed again, her breathing growing even, and Logan leaned forward a bit, smiling slightly when he'd confirmed she was asleep.
Gently, he maneuvered Ororo so that she was under the covers, the towel still under her hips just in case, and found himself overcome with the urge to stroke her hair, or kiss her forehead, or… do something.
But, he rationalized, she'd probably fry him if she woke up and/or found out.
There was no way he was going to subject himself to that, no matter how strong the urge was.
Still, he found himself fascinated by the weather witch. He'd never seen her quite this… vulnerable in all the time he'd known her. And he'd be lying if he said he hadn't noticed how beautiful she was. She was a goddess, after all.
And that smell… She smelled like a rainforest, or what he guessed a rainforest smelled like: flowery, exotic, and slightly outdoorsy. He'd gotten used to the scent in the time he'd known her, but occasionally it got so strong that he couldn't stand it.
Now was almost one of those times.
He was practically intoxicated by the mere scent of her now, and captivated by the sight of her sleeping peacefully.
He was torn; he wanted to watch her sleep, but something told him that scent might just drive him mad.
With a sigh, he pulled the chair over and sat, memorizing the scene.
A short time later, Ororo stirred and Logan shifted nervously in his seat. Should he leave? Would she be upset to find him staring?
He didn't have time to decide: Ororo's eyes slid open and she gazed groggily at him, eyebrows knitting together in a frown.
Before she could speak, Logan explained lamely, "Sorry; I didn't feel like moving…?"
He rubbed his neck nervously, glancing at her warily.
Ororo didn't move, only informed him, "I suppose it's a free country…"
She smiled tentatively, and he smiled back sheepishly, both of them suddenly shy.
He gazed at his hands, clasped in his lap, and felt Ororo's gaze travel there, too.
"Does it hurt?" she asked softly, and he was surprised to realize she hadn't asked before.
He lifted his eyes to meet her gaze and replied, "Yeah. Not so much anymore—it's more of a sting—but it did at first."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, and he leaned back in the chair, sighing and rubbing the back of his hand absently.
Suddenly, gently, Ororo's hand was on his, lifting it from its place on his knee. She sat up as she did so, staring at his hand pensively, and he resisted the urge to break free of her gentle touch.
Carefully, so lightly that he almost couldn't feel it, her thumb rubbed over his knuckles and he watched his fingers involuntarily intertwine with hers. He could feel her pulse quickening at the contact, and when their gazes locked again, the emotion whose name had eluded him earlier was flying out of his mouth before he could stop it.
"Love," he blurted, feeling his face burn with an unfamiliar sensation—he was blushing?
He could tell that Ororo was blushing, too, but the expression on her face was one of curiosity.
"What?" she asked, flustered, her gaze flicking to the window behind him.
Logan cleared his throat, which brought her gaze back to his, and he repeated, "Love. You…"
He almost couldn't bring himself to say it, but forced the words out anyway, gazing steadily at her as he continued, "You…love me…?"
"Logan, I…" Ororo looked away from him, but he squeezed her hand—which, he noticed with a grin, she hadn't extracted from his—and brought her attention back to his face. He hoped what she was seeing there was everything his head was screaming at him to say, and for a split second found himself wishing she was telepathic.
That would make this a lot easier, he mused almost bitterly, searching Ororo's gaze for something, anything that said she understood.
Something inside him had changed lately, and when her expression had registered a moment ago, he'd realized what it was.
He'd fallen in love with her.
And apparently, she with him.
After everything they'd been through in the last few years, he guessed it sort of made sense. They had gotten closer, now that he stopped to think about it.
Was that why her scent sometimes grew so overpowering that it drove him nuts? Because he loved her?
He looked at Ororo then, trying to gauge her reaction, her emotions.
Did she really love him?
Yes.
The gentle voice inside his head was unmistakably the professor, and Logan could see the old man smiling encouragingly.
She does. She has for quite some time, actually.
Logan could see the professor's eyebrows rising as he continued, And you've loved her since your first encounter.
A white-haired woman opened the front door of the Mansion with an annoyed yet puzzled expression, looking him over for a moment before she yanked him inside.
"It's pouring out there; go that way."
She pointed off to his left, where a kitchen beckoned warmly.
"I was—" he began, but she interrupted sternly, "Please don't make me drag you."
He frowned but did as she asked, walking curiously into the kitchen.
The woman returned a few minutes later with a towel and a clean set of clothes.
"The bathroom is the second door on your left; change and we'll make sure your clothes dry."
"We?" Logan asked, confused.
She only waved him off in the general direction of the bathroom, and he sighed, doing as she suggested. This lady sure was more confusing than any of the others he'd encountered.
And more…interesting, he decided while he changed.
She was beautiful, stern, but somehow gentle and kind. And there was an exotic air about her, not to mention the way she spoke…
He blinked.
Get a grip, Logan, he scolded. You're here to see Chuck, not the girl.
But still, something about her…
He shook his head to clear the thought out.
No. Chuck, Logan. Focus. Here to talk to Chuck.
The memory faded and the professor's smile in his mind's eye was wide and gentle as he declared, Stop beating around the bush, Logan. As far as I'm concerned, you and Ororo are already married.
With that, the professor disappeared from his mind, leaving Logan to ponder the conversation.
Another sigh escaped him, and the Wolverine stood abruptly, his hand slipping free from Ororo's, and she stared up at him curiously.
"Logan? Are you all right?" she finally asked, a whisper that he barely picked up on.
There was no hesitation this time, just action, and Logan found himself leaning over, his hands on either side of Ororo's legs as he kissed her gently.
After a moment, he rested his forehead against hers as he replied, "I am now."
Her eyes grew wide but he saw understanding flash across her face before she decided with a smile, "Me too."
Her hands wound their way into his hair as she gazed at him in a way he'd never thought she'd look at anyone, let alone him.
He frowned in curiosity, but only had time to say "Oro…" before Ororo silenced him with a kiss as she slid backward, pulling him onto the bed with her.
"Ro," he gasped when she finally pulled away, "I know you're… er, eager, and all, but do you really think now is the best time to—"
Ororo brought a finger to his lips, almost giggling as she replied, "No, I don't want that. Not yet."
He sighed in relief, and she rested her head on his chest, finishing, "What I want right now is to just sit here with you for a while."
Logan smiled and wrapped his arm around Ororo's shoulders, deciding, "Sounds like a plan."
"And Logan?" Ororo murmured in question.
"Mhm?"
"You are never to speak of what happened earlier. To anyone. Ever."
"You got it, darlin'," he chuckled, kissing the top of her head. "I can keep a secret."
Notes: Weird ending, but I was getting tired of trying to write it.
Influences, Borrowed Ideas, and Other Random Crap:
"The Trouble with Weather" by i'm a quitter
"Wishes, Hopes and Dreams" (and others) by Darlin
"Secret Burdens" by orangeflavor
"Nightly Encounters" by Miasen
Words: 2354
Time: Ugh, who knows?