Dark Clouds on the Horizon

Follows Victor Logan Ororo triangle from The Power of Touch.

I don't own them – wish I did, thanks for the playground – Marcy is mine, but the rest – well we know where they belong.

Chapter 1

She walked into the bar. She had slipped into the city, to get away from Jean and Scott and the tension about Logan. It wasn't like Jean was the only woman in the mansion, but where Logan was concerned she was. She flicked her white hair over her shoulder and walked to the bar itself.

"I'll have a beer." She said.

He dropped a bottle in front of her. It wasn't that high end a bar anyway. At least they opened the bottle for you. The Professor knew why she was low right now. Scott and Jean never saw anyone but each other, although Jean had confessed an attraction for the Canadian drifter.

She'd dated Hank for a while, but he was almost too nice. She hadn't been able to talk to Jean about the other thing bothering her, the dark dreams she'd been having since Liberty Island. Jean had been having her own problems, and didn't have the time for her lately. Professor Xavier had been too busy, and she wasn't sure she wanted to talk to him about her erotic dreams.

"You owe me a scream." He whispered as he traced that talon down her cheek. She saw the gleam in his eye, the slight wrinkle of his nose, and knew he'd smelled her. She wasn't afraid, at least not completely. If Logan hadn't come in, distracted him, there was no telling what he would have done.

"You owe me a scream." The echo didn't even grab her attention, until he sat down next to her.

"Aren't you dead?"

"Not the last time I checked." He said and signaled for a beer.

"How did you survive that fall?"

"It's not the fall that hurt, it was the landing, and the long assed swim to shore." He said, downing half his beer. She looked at him in the mirror behind the bar. He was in a denim jacket, and a dark T-shirt, his hair was pulled back, he'd shaved and trimmed the wild hair on his face, he looked almost human.

She winced at that thought. Humans were the problem. They hated mutants, they were causing more and more problems, and she didn't want to deal with 'normal' humans right now.

"So – are you drinking another one – or are we going someplace?"

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

"I ain't above a beautiful woman against the wall in the bathroom." He grinned.

"You bastard."

"Nope – my parents were married to each other – much to their grief." He said.

"There's no way in hell I'm having sex with you." She said, after signaling for another beer.

"Your loss – I ain't bad." He drained his beer and signaled for another.

"You really are full of yourself." She snapped.

"Maybe – but you still owe me a scream."

"It will be a very cold day in hell…" He kissed her, hard, the tips of his fangs scraping against her bottom lip as he forced his way into her mouth with his tongue. He tangled his hands in her hairs, and she felt the scrape of his claws against her scalp.

She was breathless when he pulled back, grinning at her. "Now what was that?"

"I've got a motel room across the street – but don't think it's anything but sex." She said.

"Darlin' all I'm interested in is getting laid – and hearing you scream." He said.

"You are going to have to work for that scream." She said as she led him across the street.

"I'm the one with the healing factor, witch." He said, as he dropped his jacket on the cracked vinyl upholstery of the one chair in the room. She slipped her leather jacket off and hung it on the one permanent hanger left in the closet.

She looked at herself in the mirror, why was she doing this? Was it curiosity? Was it the danger he represented? Or was it just that she was tired of being alone, with only her own devices for satisfaction.

It didn't matter, she was going to satisfy the curiosity, she glanced back as he pulled the shirt off over his head and she gasped. Goddess why did such perfection have to belong to such a sick twisted individual? She moaned as he unfastened his belt and yanked it through the loops on his jeans.

"Am I the only one on this page, sweetheart?" He growled, sending shivers deep down her spine, and causing her nipples to harden against the silk shirt she was wearing. She unbuttoned the blouse, her caramel skin in stark contrast to the creamy silk. He walked up behind her, and slipped his arms around her waist. "Either you hurry it the hell up, or I'm hurrin' it the hell up."

She finished unbuttoning the shirt, turning in his hands and letting him slide it down her arms and onto the counter.

"Damn." He whispered as he cupped her breasts with his hands. She leaned in and moaned as his calloused thumbs stroked over her nipples. "Pants – off." He snarled.

She reached down and unfastened them, and he pushed them down over her hips, dragging her underwear down with them. She felt his fingers opening her, the heat of them contrasting with the cool air of the room. She moaned and ground against his hand.

"Impatient." He grinned. He forced her pants to the ground and picked her up and set her on the counter. He reached between them and unfastened his jeans, and with no further foreplay thrust deep inside her. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust. THIS was what she wanted, raw sex, no care, no gentleness, just pure raw lust.

He ground her against the counter, his pace brutal and bruising and exactly what she wanted. The scream was forced from her throat as she reached her climax, but he ignored her and just kept pounding into her. He picked her up, and without even missing a thrust, carried her to the bed, landing heavily on top of her, and grinding his hips deep against her pelvic bone.

"DAMN darlin' I thought you were gonna make me work for that…" He said gruffly. "Hope you ain't done yet, cuz I sure ain't." He ground against her, causing her to moan again as he set another pounding bruising rhythm. She didn't care; her body was getting what it needed, what she couldn't give herself.

"Can't you do any better than that?" She hissed at him, as he ground against her, even harder, his clawed hands gripping her hips for even deeper penetration. He growled against her neck and grabbed the skin as he gave her what her body was demanding. He roared against her neck as she screamed his name with her own climax.

"Goddess – I needed that."

"Darlin – I ain't done." He grinned down at her, as he leaned down and took one nipple into his mouth. She moaned as she felt him thrust again. She KNEW his healing factor gave him a quick recovery rate, but not that quick. She moaned and let him push her over the edge again and again and again before he roared against her skin again. He only paused long enough to flip her onto her stomach and pull her to her hands and knees as he pounded into her again. She moaned and screamed and tossed her hair back in his face as she screamed again.

Finally he dropped onto the mattress, a very satisfied grin on his face.

"Well well, who would have thought the ice princess could scream like that." He said with a smirk. She just glared at him and walked into the bathroom. She climbed into the shower, ran the water as hot as it would run and tried to wash the stink of his body from hers.

She stepped out and dried off, before stepping back into the dressing area, pulling on her jeans, before slipping the damp underwear in the pocket of her jacket. She pulled on and buttoned the blouse.

"Where are you goin?" he asked

"Back to the Institute. Thanks for the fun." She said, her own smile tight and cold. "I'd leave you some cash, but I understand you don't need it."

"Bitch." He growled, sitting up in the bed.

"You're good, I'll give you that. If you had a number I'd call you when I needed something wild again." He snarled.

"Go to hell."

"I'd just meet you there – and I don't think they let you actually finish down there." She said with a grin, walking to the bed and slapping him across the face.

"Next week, same bar." She said.

"Fuck you."

"You just did." She turned and walked out the door, her body sore and well used, just like she wanted. Someday she'd understand exactly why she needed him, and then she would be able to get away. Until then, he was on a short leash. He knew he'd never get a chance at something like her on his own, and as long as he longed for something better than himself, he would be there – would be her walk on the wild side.