author: Lucinda
rating: pg13
main character: Ororo
disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to the characters from the X-Men movies.
distribution: Please ask first. If you have permission for any of my other RoLo works, you may have this one also.
note: This is set after the Alkali Lake show-down, at the end of X-2. Follow up to 'What I Want'.
His emotions are so clear, all a person needs to do is look at him, and they know what he is feeling. Pain, loss, a sense of betrayal and shock, and a touch of despair fill him now, something much quieter than the violent rages that sometimes possess him. Let nobody say that Logan does not feel. He does feel, and he feels things with such intensity that it staggers the mind. Are the 'berserker rages' nothing more than an anger more intense and powerful than that of Scott, or Jean?
Jean mentioned that once, that Logan's emotions seemed more intense than any other mind that she'd ever touched. Emotions strong enough to almost block her probe entirely, and painful confused memories that cut like swirling knives. His memories are intense, his nightmares are intense, his anger is terrifying to behold... Would he be as intense in love?
But this is no time to permit herself the indulgence of speculating like that. They've suffered so much over the past few days, the school attacked, the unexpected and unwelcome working with Magnento and Mystique, the assault on Alkali Lake, and the final low, the death of Jean. They had all been through a great deal, especially Logan, who may have become the Wolverine in that very facility.
He'd been searching for answers, seeking to know who he'd once been. There had been hints there, triple gouges cut into the wall, Stryker's recognition of Logan, the vat of bubbling adamantium. But those were hardly answers, hardly enough to settle the questions that must plague him.
Frowning, Ororo realized something. Logan's flirting with Jean hadn't been as intense as his protective actions for Marie, or for the students. Not as intense as his efforts to stop Stryker, or even to glare balefully at Magneto. Why had the intensity been less? Could his affections towards Jean been... less complete than her friend had assumed? But then, why would he have bothered flirting with her? Even Logan had to know that those flirtations pushed Jean into avoiding him...
What if that had been the point? What if his goal hadn't been to get Jean, but to push her away? To push away the doctor, the telepath who might see something in his mind. Maybe the idea sounded a bit crazy... maybe it was a bit crazy. Where would he have learned such manipulative ways of behaving? Learned them so intently that even with his conscious memories stripped away, the reactions were still there?
Nobody knew enough of his past to answer that. Not even Logan, which seemed so terribly tragic somehow. And yet, perhaps that mystery, that murky, tormented confusion was part of what had shaped him into the man that was a part of their team? Would he go through life with the same reckless intensity if he knew where he had come from, if he knew of disapproving relatives, of a possible career and a normal life? If he could somehow go back to who and what he had once been, would he?
It almost made her feel guilty that a small part of her was glad that Logan wouldn't have that option. Glad that the past could not be undone, that you could never go backwards, only forward. Glad that he would stay with them.
A few months ago, she would have said that it would be impossible to get used to Logan's company. And maybe that was the case, but now, Ororo thought that things at the mansion would feel oddly empty and too quiet without Logan. He brought such a powerful presence, such an enthusiasm for living... the phrase Carpe Diem came to mind. And Logan certainly did, seizing each day as if he felt the need to throttle the last possible bit of experience from it.
What would it be like to live with that much passion, that much intensity and enthusiasm? To squeeze the tiniest bit of everything from every moment of your life? Would she even be capable of that same intensity? A small part of her feared that she couldn't. Was it because the nature of her powers almost demanded self-control? Demanded that she curb her emotions and reactions lest the weather wreck havoc? No, the only time that she could even have approached that intensity was her childhood in Cairo, and she would never want to return to those times.
She sighed, watching Logan stand beside Scott, the low sound of his voice oddly comforting. Logan, seeking to help Scott deal with Jean's death? That was certainly not something that she had expected to see. But Logan and Scott were talking.
"If only..." She sighed, leaning back into the chair. "If only I could have such intensity to life."
Wiggling her shoulders a little in the chair, Ororo sighed again. Logan didn't do things half way. Would that carry over to more personal things? Would he... Wistfully, she shook her head, almost positive that her chances would be slim to none. Even if he hadn't been in love with Jean, even if they would have the time to try for love... even if she could let go of her enforced calm enough to let him know that she would be interested...
"If I could be Logan's..." She breathed the words out, not even daring to finish the sentence, not willing to let that longing go free into the air. If only. A relationship with Logan would be intense. But would it be happy? Intensity was not the same as joyful, or happy. Perhaps a relationship with him would be intense, but filled with arguments, shouting and conflict? Perhaps… Perhaps a relationship with Logan would not be entirely enjoyable, but it would be something to remember for all the rest of her life. She wanted to know anyhow, even if there was bitter with the sweet, and it left her feeling breathless and stunned and pained instead of just breathlessly exhilarated.
She made her way towards the gardens, wondering how the next few weeks would develop. Everyone would feel Jean's absence, although perhaps not as painfully as Scott who had loved her and the Professor who had looked at her almost as a daughter. Jean helped teach, helped keep calm, and was their main medical staff. Everything would be different. Add in John's defection to Magneto, the addition of Kurt, and the lingering fear of another attack…
Ororo had the feeling that her gardens and greenhouse would become a dearly beloved escape for far more people than normal before too long. Not just because they would smell so much better t6han the halls and classrooms, but for the comfort of green and growing things. Green plants seemed to have a soothing effect on almost all people, it was something that she'd taken advantage of as a pickpocket, used to help her village when she'd lived in tribal Africa, and it still held true in America, a country that considered itself 'modern' and 'civilized'. To her, that could only say that the greenery spoke to something deep inside the essential human core, not a matter of decorating taste, but a matter of human nature.
As she walked through the water garden, debating if the plants could use a light misting of rain, she spotted something reflecting in the pond. For a startled moment, she was reminded of leopards waiting in the trees near watering holes, prepared to pounce on the unwary antelope. But there were no leopards on the school grounds, and the coloring wasn't quite right, more gray than golden spotted.
"Logan? Why are you in the tree?" Was he here to avoid the number of people? To hide from everyone to mourn in private or to ponder the mysteries of life?
One tanned hand waved at her, and he continued to frown at the water. "I keep wondering about all of that mess. I was there before, at Alkali. Anyone who looked in there could tell. But that doesn't say why. Was it something that I volunteered for, like Stryker said, or was he just trying to mess with my head? Was I ordered to do it? Did they kidnap people to use in it, like Kurt got grabbed by the people that had him? Did the same people have him that had me? Was it because there are too few people that would give a damn about mutants being test subjects? Did they think they could hide what they were doing? What in the hell were they trying to do?"
"Deep thoughts." Her words were soft, and she looked at Logan, wondering how many of the people would have figured that he could be thinking about such questions. They went beyond 'why me?' or 'what did they do to me?' and into the realm of long term goals and motivation. "Why have them over water?"
"Why not? Water's good to keep your mind calm while thinking about things, and I have to keep calm enough not to fall off the branch." He shook his head, his fingers rubbing over a leaf. "How deep is the water under me?"
"Maybe four feet, possibly another foot of mud. Why?" His question seemed so odd.
"I can't swim." The words were blunt, unapologetic.
Blinking, she looked at him. How could someone in America grow up without learning a skill that seemed so basic? "I'm sure that someone could teach you…"
"No. I know all the motions. I think I must have been fairly decent once upon a time, although I can't remember. It's the adamantium." He offered a tiny almost smile. "It's too heavy, and I sink. Knowing the motions doesn't help much if you sink right to the bottom."
Ororo looked at the water, seeing his reflection, the ripples making him look almost normal, as if he was just a normal guy, relaxing on a nice day. Maybe that was why he was looking into the water. To be heavy enough that he would sink… It was an unsettling thought, and it left an odd feeling in her mind. Did he have suicidal tendencies then? "If you would sink to the bottom, then why…. Why have your deep thoughts over the water at all?"
"When you think about the big questions, there are places that are better. Remote mountaintops, deserts, windswept plains, reflecting pools of water. Only one of those options is available here. Being alive means taking risks, some are just bigger than others." He looked at her, his eyes filled with mystery and tumbled thoughts and what almost felt like the air from the highest mountains. A sense of mystery and wildness.
"Logan, I…" She paused, wondering what she could say. She couldn't just say 'Logan, I've been thinking about what an affair with you would be like' or 'Logan, don't you realize that death is final?' With a sigh, she realized that she couldn't say either of those things. She couldn't even put her feelings into words that would make sense. "Logan, don't fall. Please."
There was an odd note in his voice as he answered, his words soft. "I won't fall into the water, 'Ro. But there are other falls that can be more dangerous."
She could feel the importance behind his words. They held a meaning, something beyond a simple reaction answerable to gravity. But what sort of falling? Certainly he wasn't referring to Jean… or was he? Could Logan be trying to offer a reassurance that he wouldn't die? She pondered his words for a few moments, before deciding that Logan was such a bundle of contradictions and mystery that it would be almost impossible to tell. "Well, that's good. I think I'm starting to get used to having you around."
end How Does He?.
rating: pg13
main character: Ororo
disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to the characters from the X-Men movies.
distribution: Please ask first. If you have permission for any of my other RoLo works, you may have this one also.
note: This is set after the Alkali Lake show-down, at the end of X-2. Follow up to 'What I Want'.
His emotions are so clear, all a person needs to do is look at him, and they know what he is feeling. Pain, loss, a sense of betrayal and shock, and a touch of despair fill him now, something much quieter than the violent rages that sometimes possess him. Let nobody say that Logan does not feel. He does feel, and he feels things with such intensity that it staggers the mind. Are the 'berserker rages' nothing more than an anger more intense and powerful than that of Scott, or Jean?
Jean mentioned that once, that Logan's emotions seemed more intense than any other mind that she'd ever touched. Emotions strong enough to almost block her probe entirely, and painful confused memories that cut like swirling knives. His memories are intense, his nightmares are intense, his anger is terrifying to behold... Would he be as intense in love?
But this is no time to permit herself the indulgence of speculating like that. They've suffered so much over the past few days, the school attacked, the unexpected and unwelcome working with Magnento and Mystique, the assault on Alkali Lake, and the final low, the death of Jean. They had all been through a great deal, especially Logan, who may have become the Wolverine in that very facility.
He'd been searching for answers, seeking to know who he'd once been. There had been hints there, triple gouges cut into the wall, Stryker's recognition of Logan, the vat of bubbling adamantium. But those were hardly answers, hardly enough to settle the questions that must plague him.
Frowning, Ororo realized something. Logan's flirting with Jean hadn't been as intense as his protective actions for Marie, or for the students. Not as intense as his efforts to stop Stryker, or even to glare balefully at Magneto. Why had the intensity been less? Could his affections towards Jean been... less complete than her friend had assumed? But then, why would he have bothered flirting with her? Even Logan had to know that those flirtations pushed Jean into avoiding him...
What if that had been the point? What if his goal hadn't been to get Jean, but to push her away? To push away the doctor, the telepath who might see something in his mind. Maybe the idea sounded a bit crazy... maybe it was a bit crazy. Where would he have learned such manipulative ways of behaving? Learned them so intently that even with his conscious memories stripped away, the reactions were still there?
Nobody knew enough of his past to answer that. Not even Logan, which seemed so terribly tragic somehow. And yet, perhaps that mystery, that murky, tormented confusion was part of what had shaped him into the man that was a part of their team? Would he go through life with the same reckless intensity if he knew where he had come from, if he knew of disapproving relatives, of a possible career and a normal life? If he could somehow go back to who and what he had once been, would he?
It almost made her feel guilty that a small part of her was glad that Logan wouldn't have that option. Glad that the past could not be undone, that you could never go backwards, only forward. Glad that he would stay with them.
A few months ago, she would have said that it would be impossible to get used to Logan's company. And maybe that was the case, but now, Ororo thought that things at the mansion would feel oddly empty and too quiet without Logan. He brought such a powerful presence, such an enthusiasm for living... the phrase Carpe Diem came to mind. And Logan certainly did, seizing each day as if he felt the need to throttle the last possible bit of experience from it.
What would it be like to live with that much passion, that much intensity and enthusiasm? To squeeze the tiniest bit of everything from every moment of your life? Would she even be capable of that same intensity? A small part of her feared that she couldn't. Was it because the nature of her powers almost demanded self-control? Demanded that she curb her emotions and reactions lest the weather wreck havoc? No, the only time that she could even have approached that intensity was her childhood in Cairo, and she would never want to return to those times.
She sighed, watching Logan stand beside Scott, the low sound of his voice oddly comforting. Logan, seeking to help Scott deal with Jean's death? That was certainly not something that she had expected to see. But Logan and Scott were talking.
"If only..." She sighed, leaning back into the chair. "If only I could have such intensity to life."
Wiggling her shoulders a little in the chair, Ororo sighed again. Logan didn't do things half way. Would that carry over to more personal things? Would he... Wistfully, she shook her head, almost positive that her chances would be slim to none. Even if he hadn't been in love with Jean, even if they would have the time to try for love... even if she could let go of her enforced calm enough to let him know that she would be interested...
"If I could be Logan's..." She breathed the words out, not even daring to finish the sentence, not willing to let that longing go free into the air. If only. A relationship with Logan would be intense. But would it be happy? Intensity was not the same as joyful, or happy. Perhaps a relationship with him would be intense, but filled with arguments, shouting and conflict? Perhaps… Perhaps a relationship with Logan would not be entirely enjoyable, but it would be something to remember for all the rest of her life. She wanted to know anyhow, even if there was bitter with the sweet, and it left her feeling breathless and stunned and pained instead of just breathlessly exhilarated.
She made her way towards the gardens, wondering how the next few weeks would develop. Everyone would feel Jean's absence, although perhaps not as painfully as Scott who had loved her and the Professor who had looked at her almost as a daughter. Jean helped teach, helped keep calm, and was their main medical staff. Everything would be different. Add in John's defection to Magneto, the addition of Kurt, and the lingering fear of another attack…
Ororo had the feeling that her gardens and greenhouse would become a dearly beloved escape for far more people than normal before too long. Not just because they would smell so much better t6han the halls and classrooms, but for the comfort of green and growing things. Green plants seemed to have a soothing effect on almost all people, it was something that she'd taken advantage of as a pickpocket, used to help her village when she'd lived in tribal Africa, and it still held true in America, a country that considered itself 'modern' and 'civilized'. To her, that could only say that the greenery spoke to something deep inside the essential human core, not a matter of decorating taste, but a matter of human nature.
As she walked through the water garden, debating if the plants could use a light misting of rain, she spotted something reflecting in the pond. For a startled moment, she was reminded of leopards waiting in the trees near watering holes, prepared to pounce on the unwary antelope. But there were no leopards on the school grounds, and the coloring wasn't quite right, more gray than golden spotted.
"Logan? Why are you in the tree?" Was he here to avoid the number of people? To hide from everyone to mourn in private or to ponder the mysteries of life?
One tanned hand waved at her, and he continued to frown at the water. "I keep wondering about all of that mess. I was there before, at Alkali. Anyone who looked in there could tell. But that doesn't say why. Was it something that I volunteered for, like Stryker said, or was he just trying to mess with my head? Was I ordered to do it? Did they kidnap people to use in it, like Kurt got grabbed by the people that had him? Did the same people have him that had me? Was it because there are too few people that would give a damn about mutants being test subjects? Did they think they could hide what they were doing? What in the hell were they trying to do?"
"Deep thoughts." Her words were soft, and she looked at Logan, wondering how many of the people would have figured that he could be thinking about such questions. They went beyond 'why me?' or 'what did they do to me?' and into the realm of long term goals and motivation. "Why have them over water?"
"Why not? Water's good to keep your mind calm while thinking about things, and I have to keep calm enough not to fall off the branch." He shook his head, his fingers rubbing over a leaf. "How deep is the water under me?"
"Maybe four feet, possibly another foot of mud. Why?" His question seemed so odd.
"I can't swim." The words were blunt, unapologetic.
Blinking, she looked at him. How could someone in America grow up without learning a skill that seemed so basic? "I'm sure that someone could teach you…"
"No. I know all the motions. I think I must have been fairly decent once upon a time, although I can't remember. It's the adamantium." He offered a tiny almost smile. "It's too heavy, and I sink. Knowing the motions doesn't help much if you sink right to the bottom."
Ororo looked at the water, seeing his reflection, the ripples making him look almost normal, as if he was just a normal guy, relaxing on a nice day. Maybe that was why he was looking into the water. To be heavy enough that he would sink… It was an unsettling thought, and it left an odd feeling in her mind. Did he have suicidal tendencies then? "If you would sink to the bottom, then why…. Why have your deep thoughts over the water at all?"
"When you think about the big questions, there are places that are better. Remote mountaintops, deserts, windswept plains, reflecting pools of water. Only one of those options is available here. Being alive means taking risks, some are just bigger than others." He looked at her, his eyes filled with mystery and tumbled thoughts and what almost felt like the air from the highest mountains. A sense of mystery and wildness.
"Logan, I…" She paused, wondering what she could say. She couldn't just say 'Logan, I've been thinking about what an affair with you would be like' or 'Logan, don't you realize that death is final?' With a sigh, she realized that she couldn't say either of those things. She couldn't even put her feelings into words that would make sense. "Logan, don't fall. Please."
There was an odd note in his voice as he answered, his words soft. "I won't fall into the water, 'Ro. But there are other falls that can be more dangerous."
She could feel the importance behind his words. They held a meaning, something beyond a simple reaction answerable to gravity. But what sort of falling? Certainly he wasn't referring to Jean… or was he? Could Logan be trying to offer a reassurance that he wouldn't die? She pondered his words for a few moments, before deciding that Logan was such a bundle of contradictions and mystery that it would be almost impossible to tell. "Well, that's good. I think I'm starting to get used to having you around."
end How Does He?.