-Ororo's room-
"Do you still love Jean…?"
He never answered that question. And Ororo really wanted an answer to that. But what answer would have satisfied her? If he said "yes" she would have been heart broken; having lost him before ever really having him. If he said "no" she wouldn't have believed him anyway. He would've been thinking with the little head instead of the big one.
Well maybe in Logan's case not so little… but still.
She may have truly ruined things by giving in to her urges and kissing him.
It's true she hadn't planned on kissing him, but when he was near her, she just lost all sense of reason. He'd come up there to comfort her as a friend and she pounced on him. When he reciprocated with all the passion she imagined brewed within him, she told him to stop. Then she insulted him.
Somehow she managed to turn something that she'd wanted for the better part of year into another rejection.
In the light of day she could still remember the unexpected softness of his lips, the coarse feel of his hands exciting her skin, even his scent; a mix of sandalwood and tobacco remains in the room. She could swear he had somehow transferred his enhanced senses to her, because she was so keenly aware of every nuance of last night.
Especially his eyes when she'd dropped her robe.
She could tell that he wanted her, his eyes taking in every inch of her exposed flesh. But her body was sending him mixed signals. He would have sensed her arousal, but also her anger and confusion. It's why he took that step towards her; the animal in the man was going to tame her; subdue her and take her. In his eyes she saw that war take place, with part of her rooting for the animal. Being so closely grounded in nature herself, part her wanted to be conquered, forced even.
Knock, knock, knock "Ororo?"
"Yes one second, Betsy." She answers; relieved it was not him at her door. How would she even react if it was?
You would have ripped his clothes off and forced him to claim you.
Shaking free of that stray thought she opens her door. Betsy walks in dressed in a pair tan Capri pants and white blouse, surprised at the sight of a disheveled, tired, panty clad Ororo. Standing next to her is Alison wearing a pair of jeans that seem to be painted on and a Maroon Five T-shirt.
"I'm sorry Ororo, I was told you were an early riser, I thought you'd be up and at 'em by now." Betsy glares at Alison, who she feels must have misinformed her. Before Alison can protest:
"Normally I am," Ororo chuckles sadly, cinching up her robe around her waist. She can see the concern on Betsy's face and attempts to smile. "You two look nice, planning on going to town this morning?"
"Yes. We thought it would be fun to spend the day in the city together. Breakfast and maybe some shopping, you know get away from all the testosterone for a while. If you're not up for it though…"
"Actually that sounds exactly like what I need, if you two don't mind waiting for me to get ready…?"
"Not at all!" Betsy exclaims excitedly, taking a seat in the same chair occupied by Logan the previous night. Alison takes a seat on the edge of Ororo's bed, nodding with a smile.
"Don't worry Betts, unlike the rest of us mere mortals; Ororo takes no time at all to get ready!"
Ororo laughs genuinely for the first time this morning as she takes off her robe and heads to her private bathroom. "That's only because of how long you always take Alison! The last time you and I tried to go out, I fell asleep waiting for you!" She teases.
Alison rolls her eyes dramatically. "Please, Ororo, no one shows up at a club at 9 o'clock! You were ready too early that's all."
"Whatever you have to tell yourself, Ms. Blaire!" Ororo returns chuckling as she picks out a sun dress from her closet.
-Sunrise Café-
The three of them are enjoying breakfast at a local café. The conversation is light and fun as Alison manages to have both women in hysterics as she recalls a recent bad date.
"So what did you do?" Betsy asks sipping her tea
"What do ya think?" Alison asks incredulously, "I excused myself, went to the ladies room and climbed out of the window!"
"No you did not!" Ororo returns covering her hand in delight, to which Alison simply raises an eyebrow causing the table to erupt in laughter again. Once they regain control of themselves Ororo catches Betsy staring at her.
"I don't mean to pry, but do you always wear that when you're not at the mansion?" Betsy asks Ororo.
"Yes Betsy," smiling at the woman sitting across from her. "Do you not like it?"
Betsy shrugs. "I guess its okay, I just think you look better without the…. accessories."
Ororo blushes slightly. "Thank you Elizabeth, but I doubt if we could enjoy a simple breakfast without them. Alison used to wear one just like it when she would perform, she gave me the idea." Ororo has on a black wig and has make-up coloring her eyebrows to match. She also has brown colored contacts, making her look like a totally different person.
"I guess you're right. In England, people tend not to be as… observant of such things." Betsy replies, taking a bite of her fruit salad.
"Observant… yes that's a nice way to put it," Ororo laughs. "Americans… do have their charms though."
"Oh yes definitely," Betsy agrees, casting her eyes at a group of young men at another table who are eyeing the three. "You should hear what those men over there are thinking about you right now."
Ororo sputters on her orange juice. "Betsy!" Ororo exclaims casting a slightly embarrassed glance over at the men Betsy is referring to. One of them, feeling bold decides to give her a flirtatious wink. Ororo quickly turns away, not wanting to fuel his boldness any further. She shoots Alison a warning look so she doesn't do anything to encourage them.
"What? It's not like you need me tell you that! I'd wager you've been featured in quite a few of your teammate's fantasies…" Betsy continues laughing, until she sees Ororo's saddened face. "I'm sorry Ororo; you would think a telepath would be more tactful." Betsy offers quickly.
Ororo sighs wearily and smiles. "No, you've done nothing wrong. Your joke just hit a little too close to home this morning." Ororo's mind flashes back to her strange confrontation with Wolverine last night. She'd give anything for a chance to correct things.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Alison asks, showing a rare moment of concern.
Ororo laughs weakly. "Oh Goddess yes! Can I bring myself to say what I feel out loud? That I'm not so sure of." She's gotten so used to holding everything in, she was unsure if she'd ever be able to open up.
Alison places a comforting hand on Ororo's and smiles warmly. "I know you're used to handling everything by yourself… but we're here for you." Ororo marvels at the obvious change in Alison's demeanor. Before this morning she would've pegged her as simply another party girl/pop star, but she can see now that there is real depth to Alison. Despite her desire to hide it.
Ororo swallows hard, realizing she is right. She begins to tell them the events of the past months. She details how her feelings moved from simple admiration to attraction to outright lust. With some embarrassment she describes the event of last night which left her in shambles this morning. The story-telling takes them from the quaint café on the corner to an upscale boutique.
"Wooo," Betsy exclaims looking at Ororo over a rack of skirts. "No wonder you were out of sorts this morning. And we whisked you out of the mansion before you had a chance to talk to him again…"
"Well…" Ororo starts holding a beautiful light green dress in front of a mirror. "I'm actually glad that you did. I don't have a clue as to what I would say to him now."
"Wolverine, I want you to mount me and ride me like you're a stable hand breaking a wild Bronco." Alison says looking though a rack of designer jeans. "Or you know something like that." Ororo laughs lightly before tossing a shirt into her face.
"You are no help!" Ororo exclaims.
"And you are no fun!" Alison declares sticking out her tongue. She then looks at the shirt that Ororo tossed at her approvingly. "But you do have good taste." As Alison turns to try the shirt on and Betsy grabs Ororo's arm.
"Not to piggy back Ms. Blaire's… advice. But you do care about him. Why not tell him the truth? Sometimes the worst thing you can do is over think these things." Betsy states checking out a dark red scarf.
"Ah yes… the truth: 'Logan, last night I wanted you to ravish me until your eardrums bled from my screams. But the memory of a dead woman stopped me. And since she's probably alive I didn't want to be your plan B.'"
"Well… we'd have to work on your presentation…" Betsy muses, wrapping the scarf around her neck, earning a nod from Ororo.
"Ugh…" Ororo groans, holding a yellow skirt against her waist. "I've never been good at… talking about my feelings. It was one of the primary complaints of my last boyfriend." Forge complained that Ororo was incapable of expressing herself outside of the bedroom. She remembers Alison calling Forge's sexual preference into question when she shared that information with her.
"It's not surprising," Betsy offers, sifting through a rack of t-shirts. "We're taught never to be emotional vulnerable around men we care about. Because men are simply incapable of understanding all the complexities of us. Of course as a telepath I can tell you that's bollocks. But since we're hardwired to keep a close guard on our heart, we tend to send mixed messages." Ororo is listening intently to Betsy; she was describing exactly what she'd been guilty.
"I did try to open up with my last… boyfriend…" Ororo in fact felt obligated to try since it was Forge's daily complaint.
Betsy nods knowingly. "I bet. Then you finally try and let down your guard and some sodding idiot decides it's not enough for him. So you retreat back into your shell of protection. Dear we've all been there…" The look on Betsy's face tells Ororo that she is speaking from experience.
"Yeah," Alison emerges from a fitting room agreeing. "It couldn't have helped that the first guy you seriously dated ended up being that tool, For-"
"Alison!" Ororo warns with a look and to her credit Alison says no more, knowing him to be a touchy subject for Ororo.
When Forge came to the school, it was only to complete some upgrades to the danger room that the Professor had requested. He was handsome, intelligent, creative and passionate; all qualities Ororo found enthralling. He was a little on the arrogant side, a quality that led to many a heated exchange, but all in all things progressed nicely between them.
Or so she thought.
"We should pay, he that shall not be named, a visit sometime." Alison declares deciding on another shirt to try on.
"What? Why would-?" Ororo sputters.
Alison looks around to make sure no one is in earshot before whispering wickedly: "So Betts could fry his brain and I could fry his-"
"Alison!" Ororo chastises her friend seriously before cracking an equally devious smile. "Although, those are the two things he's the most proud of…"
"Ali, you are quickly becoming my favorite blonde! Just say the word Ororo and we could be on the first thing smoking to D.C. It'll give me a chance to change the minds of that bloody house of Congress as well." Betsy adds before entering a fitting room with a skirt in hand.
-Ororo's room-
As Ororo sat in her room reading, she felt completely at ease.
Her morning with Alison and Betsy had been just what she needed. For the longest time Jean was Ororo's confidant, then there was no one. It wasn't until this morning that she realized just how lonely she'd been. Hank, while pleasant enough had always been more interested in data than people. Ororo had never warmed up to Sean Cassidy, even though he seemed nice. Logan was… well Logan and Alison had been someone she never felt comfortable in confiding in her until today.
So it had been left up to Ororo to keep her own counsel, which had not worked out for her at all. A look at last night's events was proof of that. Yes, Wolverine had come up to her room and yes he had kissed her back, but really what was he supposed to do in that situation? And as much as it hurt her to see his reaction when he left, it was justified because of how Ororo had lashed out.
Betsy and Alison both had more experience with men and were able to give her some sound advice. By the time the three returned to the mansion Ororo had decided what she would do.
She would keep it simple; no confessions of her burning desire for him, no regaling him with the many ways she imagined them finally getting together. In particular of late had been the image of the two of them rutting vigorously in the dense forest on the fringes of the estate.
Now was not the time to lay everything bare. For now she would allow soothing words and warm afternoon sun to take care of her nerves.
