Title: Tangled Webs By: Satine16

Chapter 6: Lust Vs. Love

Summary: Logan and Ororo make up for what was supposed to be a friendly date with someone
new. Betsy and Warren make up. Scott expresses his love for Jean, once again. Remy and Rogue
spend a romantic evening together using their alternative to sex.

Disclaimer: None of the characters in I used here belong to me. They are property of Marvel
Comics.The song, Kissing You, belongs to BAZMARK or whoever produced the R&J
soundtrack a bazillion years ago. I am just doing this for fun and I will not be making any
money! :)



"Fine, goodbye," Ororo hung up the phone and sighed. "He canceled on me, Logan." She
turned to her friend. He had been sitting in her room since she had gotten dressed. Now he sat on
her bed watching her in all of her beautiful elegance. Her amazing, shining mane was pulled into
a bun that rested atop her head. A pearl choker was wrapped around her graceful, ebony swan's
neck. She had on a pale blue t-shirt, which gave Logan an impressive view of her abundant
cleavage. She had a pair of black slacks on that ended right below her belly button and gave a
sultry, teasing view of her midriff. Her legs looked a mile long with her high heeled sandals on. It
was only on rare occasions that she wore high heels and he always loved the look of her legs in
them. He couldn't help but let his mind wander to the gutter and think what it would feel like to
have them wrapped around his body. God, how he had watched her for so long. He had watched
her suffer, made her laugh, eased her pain. All he had left to do was love her. If she'd let him.
"He doesn't know what he's missin' out on darlin'," Logan said it with gentility. A
particular quality he only possessed around Ororo. All the others could go to hell for all he cared.
Ororo couldn't help but take a thorough look at him while he sat on her bed. His jeans
and t-shirt were unusually tight. The dark blue t-shirt was pulled tight against his torso, revealing
every ripple of every muscle. The bulge in his pants was even more noticeable that usual, of
course, not that she was looking directly.
Her thoughts began to run carelessly throughout her mind. " What am I thinking? Logan
finds NORMAL looking women attractive. Not women like me."
Memories flooded back to her from the time she had been with Forge. He had said she
had possessed his heart and in return she gave him her soul. On Valentine's Day, he made
romantic reservations at the Hotel Sofitel, which was located near time square, and when she
arrived to the room, there was no one to be seen. She waited for him until three in the morning
when she finally decided to take a cab back to the mansion. She barraged her self with questions
on the entire ride home. What if he had been in an accident? What if something had gone
completely wrong? What if he never planned on meeting her at all? She entered her apartment
and found that her bedroom had been completely evacuated of his clothing and his razor no
longer rested on her sink. There was a note, written on yellow legal paper in the chicken scratch
he called handwriting. Gliding her eyes along the page, she dropped the note to the floor and let
out a silent wail. She covered her open mouth with a trembling hand and her legs crumbled
below her. She sat and sobbed for two hours before there was a knock on her door. Without any
further notice, or a signal to enter, Logan infiltrated the room and saw her in her tortured state.
She silenced her tears at his sudden arrival. He picked up the crumpled note and read it, his eyes
widening with pity. Ororo looked up at him, tormented, still unable to vocalize. He dropped to
his knees and hugged her tightly. She whimpered and moaned on his shoulder and he cradled her
head. He sat with her until the house woke up and she wanted to pull herself together. He kissed
her affectionately on the forehead and in that instant part of her realized it, yet it would take
awhile for the rest of her to admit the truth. A part of her knew right then and there that she loved
him
"Logan, I know why he canceled," she mumbled , her stomach the weight of a boulder.
"Why, 'Ro?" he inquired with a suspicious look in his eyes.
"People like me are not meant to be in love."
"Thanks, darlin'. Did you forget? I'm just like you," he said with a smile on his face.
"It is not the same, Logan. People can love you and they can love Jean, but that is because
you don't look like you are a freak."
He looked into her eyes and saw the distance and the sadness. He knew what she was
feeling, her eyes had always been revealing. It exposed her to a complete rawness, and it was her,
in that raw state, that he loved. He placed a hand on her knee and began to rub it, as if to tell her
how wrong she was. She looked up into his turquoise eyes and saw that within them, she was
beautiful. No doubts or speculations. Her mind, body, heart and soul. All of her. He
cared for everything and loved it all.
It was then that she saw her chance. She took her naturally long fingernails and moved them
in waves down his washboard abs. He moved his hands to her waist and just before he went to
set her down and kiss her the question loomed. The sexual tension in the room was teeming and
still growing. It would be a perfect moment, but it would mean putting their already thriving
relationship on the line. Was it worth their friendship? Both people knew it was a massive risk,
but would it be a substantial risk? Ororo knew that if Logan truly thought it was worth the
gamble he would make the move. She didn't have to doubt that at all. What the Wolverine
wanted, the Wolverine went after.
Logan pressed his fiery lips to her velvety ones as he rested her on the bed below him.

"Scott, how much longer do I have to wear this blindfold?"
Scott walked a tripping, blindfolded Jean into the diningroom. He carefully removed the
handkerchief allowing her to see the romantic evening he assembled. He had set up a few of
Charles' numerous candelabrum and set the overhead chandelier to a dim setting. There was a
beautiful meal lying out on the table with the complete silverware and table setting. Old records
from the nineteen forties played romantic jazz music and Scott was dressed in his best suit. Jean
smiled softly and tears began to form in the corners of her eyes.
"I love you so much, Scott Summers."
"I love you more," he said in his usual corny tone,(once again unless you are Jean) a
small smile forming.
"I know you do," she thought to herself. Someone was finally caring about her whole
heartedly, and she had only waited twenty-six years to find him.




.....Pride can stand a thousand trials,
The strong will never fall.
But watching stars without you,
My soul cried................
Remy embraced Rogue and the two slowly and sensuously moved with the music. As far
as sexual relations went, dancing was the closest they had gotten. Both their bodies could move
to the same rhythm. At an upbeat tempo they cruised across the floor with dips and turns,
showing off their rather amazing agility. During hip-hop numbers their hips moved together
creating a very sexual movement. And during slow numbers like this they just held one another.
It was peaceful to hear the lyrics of a love song and acknowledge only one another. While they
danced it was just the two of them. Like when many other couples bonded and expressed their
love for each other during sex. But after Remy spun her around the dance floor once or twice,
Rogue always longed for more, and he knew it. Being this close was amazing and wonderful, but
she wanted to get closer. On this particular evening her emotions got the better of her. Remy felt
her warm tears fall against his shoulder and a stream of pain ran all the way to the marrow in his
bones. He slowly closed his eyes and pulled her even more securely to him. She let her heavy
head fall firmly against his shoulder and she just cried. And as the music faded away the two
held their embrace, as if to comfort each other from what could never be. The harder and harder
they tried the more and more impossible their love became. And they both feared the day they
would have to admit that it had become too hard.
......Where are you now?
Where are you now?
'Cause I'm kissing you, oh,
I'm kissing you, oh.......

"Miss Braddock, you need to come with me immediately."
Lance was standing at Betsy's door attempting to convince her that she needed to come
with him. Warren had sent him over to retrieve her at about ten o'clock. When Lance arrived
Betsy was already in her nightgown and watching re-runs of General Hospital.
"Lance, I'm in my nightgown. This is just to bad for Mr. Worthington. Give him my
regards," she began to shut the door but Lance stopped it with his palm.
"It's an emergency, Miss Braddock, you need to come with me, nightgown or no
nightgown."
"But, Luke and Laura......"
"They'll be here when you get back."

Betsy eventually gave in and went with lance to Worthington Manor. When she arrived, she
promptly raced up the stairs and into the master bathroom where she found the entire area lit with
vanilla candles. There were white rose petals scattered all over the floor and the entire surface of
the water in Warren's extra large Jacuzzi was frosted white with damp petals. Sweet music began
to pour into the room and she turned around to see Warren, dressed in a tuxedo, holding a single
white rose.
"Forgive me, love. I want to make up for all of my shortcomings lately. I didn't want to
take off the other day, you are really much more intriguing than my board. I promise. I know I
haven't been the boyfriend you need lately, let alone the boyfriend you want. And I'm very
sorry."
"So, what's the emergency?"
"I had to tell you that I love you." He handed her the rose and she slipped it in the crystal
vase, which was sitting at the back of the sink, holding eleven identical to the one she carried.
She walked back over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled.
"I love you, too."
She untied his bow tie and threw it on the counter and she unbuttoned his jacket and let it
fall to the floor. She slowly untucked his shirt and, one by one, unfastened the buttons, letting it
hang loose and open, giving her a magnificent view of the broad shoulders and tapered waist she
loved so much. He ran his hands softly over the black satin gown and as he reached the ties, he
slowly disentangled them and let the lingerie fall to the floor. She kissed him intensely and
directed his attention towards the tub.
Warren had made up for his 'reckless abandonment' six times, and Betsy more than willingly
forgave him. They curled up on his silk sheets that night and were served a magnificent
breakfast in bed late the next morning. Warren was treating Betsy just like a princess again. She
felt like his lover, not his prostitute. Until breakfast arrived all they did was sit and kiss. Just
kiss. Nothing more than that. They had both forgotten how much fun it was to just sit and kiss,
not expecting to go any farther. After breakfast was done, they sat and smooched for one more
hour. Betsy realized that, eventually, she would have to get home and eventually should be soon,
but Warren gave her puppy dog eyes, and she hesitated. He held her for awhile, the two sitting in
complete silence and they fell asleep. They slept til two in the afternoon.