Storm's head shot up when she heard the scrape of metal behind her. Her neck ached terribly for she had fallen asleep at the desk last night. Lifting from her folded arms, she peered round slowly to see that Logan had slid open the large steel door and was entering with a hot mug of coffee. Awareness trickling in, Storm quickly sat upright, her eyes transfixed on Logan as he came closer. Reaching the desk, he placed the mug down in front of her, eyes then moving to study her dishevelled state.
"Logan.. I – " she began weakly, but he talked over her.
"Don't worry about it," came his response, and she knew he was talking about the same thing.
Leaning back in the desk chair, Storm slowly massaged her aching neck. "I just don't want it to put us in a bad position. We need to remain strong allies in such a dangerous situation."
"Storm, I said don't worry about it," Logan repeated, resting his rear down against the desk, folding his arms. "Everyone makes mistakes."
"I.. – " began Storm before she stopped suddenly, his words dawning on her. A mistake? "Right," she concluded faintly, picking up her coffee and drinking it. Well, that had put her curiosity straight.
Logan glanced behind him slowly at the monitors, which lined the grimy wall. The screen hosting the flickering image of the great entrance hadn't changed. The doors remained closed. Storm's eyes too joined the observation, the pair watching it in silence for a few moments longer. "So, you gonna start workin' on this soon?" he asked, eventually looking back upon her, in time to see her eyes slowly slide upon his own.
"Erm, yeah," said Storm quietly, lifting a hand in a bid to straighten her slightly untidy hair. Eyes roamed the console for a moment. "I'll see what I can do today, anyway." At this point she stood up, intending to go and have a wash so she'd feel a little more refreshed. But Logan had also straightened off of the desk and they were abruptly face-to-face. "Sorry," she muttered quickly, stepping aside and hurriedly departing from the control room. There was a small frown on Logan's face as he watched her turn and retreat from his side.
It was later that week - when Storm was half asleep on the leather couch - did she get taken by surprise. "I'm sorry," came Logan's words, summoning her lidded eyes open and rousing her to give him a bemused look. He was stood in the archway separating the open-plan room from the corridor beyond. His arms were folded and he looked troubled.
Having just arrived with nothing but an apology, Logan had left Storm rather mystified, but nevertheless curious. "What for?" she asked, pulling her legs back towards her as she saw Logan walk further into the living room and towards the sofa. He sat down besides her with a heavy sigh, watching his knees. Curling her legs besides her, she cast him an appraising look, waiting for him to continue.
Logan gave her a slightly disgruntled look, for he was aware she was playing hard to get. "Teasin' don't suit you 'Ro," he muttered, shaking his head towards her.
But Storm merely shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said coyly, still not dropping the act.
Eyes were rolled to the ceiling before Logan spoke. "I'm tryin' to apologise, gimme some slack, woman."
"Ok, ok. Go on," said Storm, gesturing towards him with her hands. "You're saying sorry.. for?"
Logan grunted to himself. "For what happened earlier this week. Y'know.."
Storm didn't think this was a very adequate apology, despite not really needing one. "That was terrible," she informed with a disappointed shake of her head.
She was thrown an affronted look from Logan before he noticed her smirk and caught onto her continued games. "I'm sorry for kissing you like that, with no explanation. I didn't mean to, I just kinda got taken by surprise."
"And now you're taking the credit for it," teased Storm.
"What?" Logan asked as he blinked at her, thrown from his apology.
Storm shook her head slowly. "Just saying, you're assuming it was your idea."
"Why, was it yours?"
"I don't know, really," admitted Storm, shrugging her shoulders slowly. "Why, would it make you feel better if it was?"
Logan chuckled quietly, lifting a hand to scratch his neck in an awkward fashion. "I don't know.."
Storm watched him for a moment before she glanced aside. "Was it really a mistake?"
"Yeah," replied Logan, then peering towards her. "Wasn't it?"
"Of course," Storm responded, pushing to her feet and leaving the couch, carrying the empty glass she had back into the kitchen. Logan's scrutinising eyes followed her retreating form, still picking up on the slight limp she carried from her wounded leg. Despite her departing from him, he eased himself upright off the couch, then proceeding to follow after her.
"How's your leg these days?" he asked, finding it a comfortable subject change.
Lowering her glass to the draining board, Storm spoke without looking at him. "It's fine."
Logan didn't miss the tense atmosphere that had settled upon them. "What's wrong, 'Ro?" he asked with a sigh.
"Nothing."
He leant forward to take her by one of her arms, pulling her round to face him. "C'mon.."
Storm turned quickly, giving him a slight glare at being forced to confront him. "What?" she snapped abruptly.
"One minute I think everythin's alright, then the next you go all cold on me. What's the matter?"
"Why are you even bothered?" Storm challenged, trying to disengage her arm from his. His grip, though not tight, was unrelenting.
Logan accepted the challenge with a dignified response that caused her harsh expression to falter. "Because I care."
"No you don't," muttered Storm, trying to free her arm with renewed vigour.
He didn't release her. "Yes, I do," he said firmly. "I've been here, ain't I? We've been stuck on this place for a long time now, and I've always had your back."
"That's different. That's teamwork."
"Teamwork's got nothin' to do with how sick I felt when I thought I'd lost you."
Storm closed her eyes, proceeding to slowly shake her head. "Stop it, Logan."
"Stop what?"
"This act. This façade. It.. it doesn't suit you, ok? Go back to being the real Logan."
Logan took hold of both of her upper arms now, grip tightening, as though trying to prove to her he was there. "I am the real Logan, 'Ro."
Pressed back against the kitchen worktop, and fenced in by the combination of muscular arms and a broad torso, Storm knew she wasn't going to escape this situation anytime soon. "You said it was a mistake," she said weakly, voice having grown quiet.
"We've both been through a lot of shit lately - the whole mess with Jean, Scott and the Professor dying, getting stranded on this island. Our heads and emotions are all over the place."
"And does that makes it so bad of me to want some comfort?" she asked, now staring up at him.
He shook his head, "No," he said softly. "No, it doesn't."
"So why are you reacting so badly?"
"Because I thought I had done something wrong," he explained quickly, yearning for her to understand his reasoning. "I thought I needed to clear up a mess before it screwed up our friendship."
Storm gave a soft snort. "There's no mess, Logan. The only mess right now is that we're stuck on some uncharted island."
"I know," Logan said quietly, lifting one of the hands from her upper arm to bring it against her cheek. "And you're right. It's just some comfort. 'Cause right now, we only got each other."
"I don't know why I'm doing this."
Logan made a weak laugh, "Yeah, a few months ago we barely spoke to each other. And now.."
".. And now?"
Despite her question, he leaned in slowly to close the distance between them. Soon enough, his lips met her own and once more it felt completely natural. These yearnings, these desires; he had no idea where they had spurned from. The time they spent together, which forced them to get along and to understand each other had progressed so much so, that right now, he felt at his most content like this.
And it seemed Storm felt the same, for as soon as their lips made contact, she pushed forward to complete the distance and soon enough they were picking up from where they had left off a few nights before. Tongues connected with an electrifying spark, of which could be all too literal. Kiss deepened with surprising comfort and speed. It was all too easy to let go of the troubles they currently had, the situation that lay before them on a treacherous road, whose end they couldn't see. Perhaps they were both looking for an outlet to vent all those pent up emotions that had been stewing inside. And now, said feelings had certainly reached boiling point.
A stainless steel pan crashed to the kitchen floor besides them, Storm suddenly finding herself sat on the worktop without realising how she had got there. Nevertheless, it meant Logan could move all the more closer to her, taking advantage of their increased proximity. Storm didn't part from their kiss, using her arms to drape them about his shoulders and pull him in tighter. This action summoned Logan's hands to move. The one at her arm slowly slid towards her back, supporting her posture. The fingers upon the other held against her jaw as he kissed her, allowing their tips to skim against the smooth skin of her throat.
It was ridiculously tempting to go further, and almost agonising for Storm to loosen her grip from the muscles of his neck and pull back from his lips. Both breathless and momentarily disorientated, they could only stare at each other. It would be so easy to close those few inches and continue. Too easy. "Maybe.." said Storm quietly, trailing her fingers down the coarse hair of his face, "I should show you what I've been doing in the control room."
"Is that an invitation?" Logan muttered lowly, nuzzling her cheek.
If Storm was in a bad mood, it would have earned him a hard slap. "No," she smirked. "I'm being serious. I've been working hard in there and we need to see if it's paid off."
"What, you think you can contact the mansion?" asked Logan, surprise apparent on his features. "So soon? It's only been a few days since we found the thing?"
"Yeah, and how many hours have I spent in there working?" reasoned Storm, smiling as she pushed forward and slipped back onto her feet. "Come on," she added, leading him off back towards the control room. He followed, looking intrigued but remaining a little bemused at how much she had accomplished in such a short space of time. She must be a lot better with electronics than he first realised.
They entered the control room, Storm making a beeline for the leather desk chair that sat before the range of monitors. She quickly began typing into the keyboard, doing things Logan could never and would never comprehend. He came up behind her, resting his hands on the back of the chair as he watched her work. Admittedly, his mind was drifting off onto more tasteless things thanks to their rather passionate moment.
"Look," she said, pointing at the screen before her to indicate that a radio signal was being sent.
"Where's that going to?"
"Westchester," Storm confirmed. "It's connected to the telephone lines."
"You mean, we're ringing the mansion?" asked Logan in disbelief.
Storm smiled slowly, unplugging the headphones to the sound of the dialling tone could be heard through the speakers. "Every time I did it before we lost the signal before we could get through. But with a bit of work, I think we can stay connected for a minute or so."
"That's enough time," agreed Logan quickly, nodding his head.
"Hello?"
Storm made such a loud cry of delight that the microphone crackled in protest and Logan's eye twitched. "Beast!" she practically yelled in the mouthpiece, her hands shaking.
"Ororo?! Is that you?"
"Oh my God, I'm so glad to hear your voice," she breathed, her eyes wide and sparkling.
"Where are you?" asked Beast frantically. "Moira said you never arrived in Scotland and all our attempts to contact the jet have been unsuccessful."
Logan grabbed the microphone. "That's because it got blown up, furball."
"Logan!" exclaimed Beast. "Are you both safe?"
"Kinda."
"Where are you?"
Logan glanced towards Storm as he spoke. "We don't really know.."
There was no response.
Concerned, Storm turned the mouthpiece towards her. "Hank?" she called, fears confirmed as the speakers let out a faint crackle of a lost signal. "It got cut," she said in aghast.
"Cut?" repeated Logan, staring at her. "But that means someone found it.." he drifted off, sensitive ears picking up a faint footstep from the corridor. "Oh, shit."
Ohnoez! What's going on? Some ROLO angst smoothed with a bit of fluff. Fun all round! And the mansion got contacted, but it seems like all might be too late. Please drop a review!