Wesley wasn't certain how long he'd sat there, eyes closed as he attempted to calm himself, trying almost everything he could think of to be less noticeable. He stopped short of actual magic, of course, but he was definitely hoping to avoid any further embarrassment. He did know that his face had lost that too hot and tight feeling of blushing embarrassment.
"I hope they haven't been too dreadfully embarrassing." Ororo's gentle words flowed over him, like a soothing breeze.
Wesley opened his eyes, seeing her standing there. No longer swathed in hospital bedding, she was now in a flowing gown in some sort of flowing supple blue and violet, with bangle bracelets on her arms. There was a small smile on her lips as she looked at him. "I suppose that depends on how 'dreadful' is defined. I don't think anybody was attempting to be particularly rude, or to embarrass me into leaving, but…"
"But you are not used to feeling as if you are on display?" Her soft smile made certain that the words carried no sting.
"I suppose that is one way to put it. I feel as if… as if I have pointed out a window, and now everybody is frightened and curious by what they see, and they are looking at me as if trying to determine how much of what they see is my fault." He tried to put the uneasy feeling into words.
"That's an interesting way to describe it." She smiled, moving closer and seating herself near him on the couch. She was at an angle, so that while there was a reasonable amount of space between their hips, her knees were almost touching his.
"It's better than it could be. They could be blaming me for this, or rejecting me as an incompetent hack." Wesley frowned, remembering Sunnydale, and the dreadful bumbling of his efforts there. Maybe some of it hadn't been his fault, but honestly, could he have done much worse? He'd been doomed to failure from the very start. Barely finished with his training, and sent to replace not a Watcher killed, or to old for the physical demands, but a man being punished for annoying Quentin Travers.
"Surely not…" Her eyes were like windows to the sky, blue and beautiful and this incredible impossible hue… "Surely your competence has been proven by this?"
Wesley felt a little warmer, looking at her. Surely he wouldn't have a chance… "I'm not certain that most of the people here are certain of anything about me. My guess is that I have inspired quite a number of questions… especially if I am to guess by the behavior of… well, I suppose it doesn't matter who."
"You've already had questions?" Her voice was clear, surprised and almost indignant.
"mmm." Wesley nodded, part of his mind wondering what could be causing her hair to flow like that, as if caught in a breeze. "The Professor was curious how I knew that it was a demon, and… concerned about possible confusion of demons and mutants. As for the rest… It seems that Mr. Logan is held in high regard, and to have triumphed where he… didn't is a most unusual event."
"Logan is a very capable individual. He also has a great deal of practice with fighting… well, we had assumed that he had practice fighting in just about any situation." Ororo's hair drifted around her as she shook her head. "I'd heard stories when I was a child about demons and other monsters, but… I didn't put too much power in them then, and later, I wanted to believe that those stories were… well, somewhat like the ones told about me. I was... I was viewed very differently because of my abilities."
"The ability to hang in the air, held by the wind? It was… a splendid sight." Wesley smiled as he remembered seeing her held in the air, supported by nothing more than the wind. "I told myself that it was more likely that you were a mutant than a wind spirit."
For some reason, that amused her, and she laughed. The sound was almost like silvery bells and the ocean tide. "Well, I've been called things like that before."
"Oh?" Wesley blinked, smiling just a little. "Have I just stumbled blindly onto some sort of in-joke?"
She smiled, one finger pressed to her lips with amusement. Finally, she lowered her finger, her eyes still sparkling with laughter. "I am sometimes called Storm, because of my ability to control the weather."
"To control… oh my." Wesley blinked, feeling rather stunned. He'd known that some mutants could do amazing things, but that was just… "An air spirit indeed."
"For all of that, in some ways, I am just a woman." She stood up, a smile on her face. "Will you come with me now to dinner?"
Wesley stood as well, and held his arm out to her, as he'd been told was the proper protocol since he'd been permitted to dine with the adults instead of away in the kitchen with the servants. "It would be my pleasure, lady of the winds."
She placed her hand on his arm, and they walked together through the house. Wesley felt at once delighted and self-conscious with such a lovely lady on his arm. It wasn't that she was easily as tall as he was, but the simple fact that she had the sort of poise and dignity that he could only compare to the time that he'd seen the Queen Mother at a social function, although that had been at a distance. What had he gotten himself into?
End part 10.
As they approached what could only be the dining room, Wesley could hear the sounds of multiple conversations in progress. He couldn't quite make out the words, but the noise was unmistakable. And then he caught a few phrases that were clear.
"You guys, she'll hear you!" Was that the red haired girl again?
"They're right down the hall." That could only be Logan.
Ororo sighed, shaking her head slightly as she looked upwards. "Why am I not surprised…"
Wesley couldn't quite keep from smiling at that, and smiled as they walked through the doorway into the dining hall. There was a long wooden table, with matching dark wooden chairs. He recognized Logan, the Professor, that blue doctor sitting on the side that had windows, their backs to the light. There were two empty chairs beside them. On the other side, he recognized Kurt and Evan and Kitty, the red haired girl and her boyfriend with the sunglasses, and there was another girl, this one looking sullen, almost matching one of the modern ideas of what a vampire would look like. There were also several other children that he didn't recognize, younger than Kurt and Kitty. Oh dear, time to face the firing squad…
He could feel his shoulders settling back slightly, not that it would make him look particularly intimidating, but the slight straightening effect was noticeable to him. He could feel his face taking on the carefully polite and nearly blank mask that he'd learned in an effort to keep from getting into too much trouble with his father. Politely, he pulled Ororo's chair out for her, with a small smile.
She glanced at him, offering a small smile and a soft 'thank you' as he pushed the chair back into place.
The table was already set with places for everyone, and a delectable looking assortment of food, from the roast that the red head, Jean, was it? had gone to check to corn, beans, and potatoes, soft looking rolls and small tubs of butter flavor spread, and pitchers of gravy. There were also several pitchers of things to drink, milk, and apple juice, as well as a pot of tea. Wesley resisted the urge to smile as some of the children fidgeted during the Professor's prayer of thanks for the food. It had been a while since he'd been the focus of so much attention.
The feeling of so many people watching him, trying to figure him out was easily worth being so close to Ororo. Her brilliant smiles made up for the nearly hostile glare from a younger teen with brown hair, and the looks of possible plotting from the girl in the bright yellow coat. Evan kept looking smug, with the occasional flicker of disturbed. Wesley was certain that thanks to Evan's comment, everybody in the mansion knew of his crush on Ororo. Crush sounded so… youthful, but there really wasn't a better word, unless possibly infatuation…
"You could relax a little." Ororo whispered, leaning close to his ear. "The children won't bite you."
"I'm not terribly practiced with this sort of setting. Social setting. Most of my experience has been tilted a bit the other way, with myself being one of the youngest people in the room." He almost felt like he was apologizing to her.
"Surely dinner can't be more dangerous than fighting a demon?" She had that smile again, one full of confidence and mystery.
"Perhaps that depends on who you're having dinner with." Wesley smiled back, almost not noticing the way he'd relaxed a bit, focusing more on the loveliness of Ororo than on the many staring eyes of the students.
"If you'll make certain that I'm safe from any more demons, I shall endeavor to keep you safe from the students." She was definitely smiling and amused. What was less certain… was she flirting with him?
"I'm not certain who would have the more difficult task there." He was flirting. He jut hoped that it wasn't too badly done.
Across the table, Evan suddenly dropped his fork, muttering something to himself that couldn't quite be heard. Possibly it wasn't quite an accident, he did shoot a few dismayed glances towards Wesley and Ororo as he dropped down to retrieve the fallen utensil.
"Evan? Is everything alright?" Ororo glanced over, frowning slightly at her nephew.
"umm… yeah, Auntie O. Everything's just… yeah." Evan glanced at her awkwardly, before dropping his eyes back to his plate and taking another large swallow of milk.
Wesley sighed, not needing any sort of translation of that. What Evan may have implied was that everything was fine, but what he really meant was that the idea of someone dating his aunt was freaking him out, and he wasn't certain how to deal with it. Especially when he might still be thinking of Wesley as 'that strange guy who believes in demons'. That could complicate his chances for… anything. Tremendously.
It was almost with relief that dinner finally ended. Ororo walked with Wesley towards the front doors, her hand on his arm. The scent of her sandalwood perfume wrapped around Wesley, a subtle call, imprinting deep in his mind, calling up all sorts of sensual images that were really not needed at this moment. "Diner was… unforgettable."
Chuckling, she nodded, half turning so that she faced him. " I suppose that is one way to describe it. Perhaps we could try something… less crowded? Perhaps we could meet in the park on Saturday, for an afternoon picnic? Maybe at one?"
"That sounds wonderful. Shall I bring anything in particular?" Wesley smiled at her, some small part of him attempting to cheer in jubilation inside.
"Perhaps some fruit. It seems very difficult to keep much on hand here, it seems to be eaten rather quickly." She tucked her hair back, looking at him. "I will be looking forward to it."
"So will I." Wesley smiled, and after a few moments of internal debate, kissed her fingers before starting off towards his bookstore. He was already debating the best sorts of fruit to bring on Saturday.
End part 11.
"I hope they haven't been too dreadfully embarrassing." Ororo's gentle words flowed over him, like a soothing breeze.
Wesley opened his eyes, seeing her standing there. No longer swathed in hospital bedding, she was now in a flowing gown in some sort of flowing supple blue and violet, with bangle bracelets on her arms. There was a small smile on her lips as she looked at him. "I suppose that depends on how 'dreadful' is defined. I don't think anybody was attempting to be particularly rude, or to embarrass me into leaving, but…"
"But you are not used to feeling as if you are on display?" Her soft smile made certain that the words carried no sting.
"I suppose that is one way to put it. I feel as if… as if I have pointed out a window, and now everybody is frightened and curious by what they see, and they are looking at me as if trying to determine how much of what they see is my fault." He tried to put the uneasy feeling into words.
"That's an interesting way to describe it." She smiled, moving closer and seating herself near him on the couch. She was at an angle, so that while there was a reasonable amount of space between their hips, her knees were almost touching his.
"It's better than it could be. They could be blaming me for this, or rejecting me as an incompetent hack." Wesley frowned, remembering Sunnydale, and the dreadful bumbling of his efforts there. Maybe some of it hadn't been his fault, but honestly, could he have done much worse? He'd been doomed to failure from the very start. Barely finished with his training, and sent to replace not a Watcher killed, or to old for the physical demands, but a man being punished for annoying Quentin Travers.
"Surely not…" Her eyes were like windows to the sky, blue and beautiful and this incredible impossible hue… "Surely your competence has been proven by this?"
Wesley felt a little warmer, looking at her. Surely he wouldn't have a chance… "I'm not certain that most of the people here are certain of anything about me. My guess is that I have inspired quite a number of questions… especially if I am to guess by the behavior of… well, I suppose it doesn't matter who."
"You've already had questions?" Her voice was clear, surprised and almost indignant.
"mmm." Wesley nodded, part of his mind wondering what could be causing her hair to flow like that, as if caught in a breeze. "The Professor was curious how I knew that it was a demon, and… concerned about possible confusion of demons and mutants. As for the rest… It seems that Mr. Logan is held in high regard, and to have triumphed where he… didn't is a most unusual event."
"Logan is a very capable individual. He also has a great deal of practice with fighting… well, we had assumed that he had practice fighting in just about any situation." Ororo's hair drifted around her as she shook her head. "I'd heard stories when I was a child about demons and other monsters, but… I didn't put too much power in them then, and later, I wanted to believe that those stories were… well, somewhat like the ones told about me. I was... I was viewed very differently because of my abilities."
"The ability to hang in the air, held by the wind? It was… a splendid sight." Wesley smiled as he remembered seeing her held in the air, supported by nothing more than the wind. "I told myself that it was more likely that you were a mutant than a wind spirit."
For some reason, that amused her, and she laughed. The sound was almost like silvery bells and the ocean tide. "Well, I've been called things like that before."
"Oh?" Wesley blinked, smiling just a little. "Have I just stumbled blindly onto some sort of in-joke?"
She smiled, one finger pressed to her lips with amusement. Finally, she lowered her finger, her eyes still sparkling with laughter. "I am sometimes called Storm, because of my ability to control the weather."
"To control… oh my." Wesley blinked, feeling rather stunned. He'd known that some mutants could do amazing things, but that was just… "An air spirit indeed."
"For all of that, in some ways, I am just a woman." She stood up, a smile on her face. "Will you come with me now to dinner?"
Wesley stood as well, and held his arm out to her, as he'd been told was the proper protocol since he'd been permitted to dine with the adults instead of away in the kitchen with the servants. "It would be my pleasure, lady of the winds."
She placed her hand on his arm, and they walked together through the house. Wesley felt at once delighted and self-conscious with such a lovely lady on his arm. It wasn't that she was easily as tall as he was, but the simple fact that she had the sort of poise and dignity that he could only compare to the time that he'd seen the Queen Mother at a social function, although that had been at a distance. What had he gotten himself into?
End part 10.
As they approached what could only be the dining room, Wesley could hear the sounds of multiple conversations in progress. He couldn't quite make out the words, but the noise was unmistakable. And then he caught a few phrases that were clear.
"You guys, she'll hear you!" Was that the red haired girl again?
"They're right down the hall." That could only be Logan.
Ororo sighed, shaking her head slightly as she looked upwards. "Why am I not surprised…"
Wesley couldn't quite keep from smiling at that, and smiled as they walked through the doorway into the dining hall. There was a long wooden table, with matching dark wooden chairs. He recognized Logan, the Professor, that blue doctor sitting on the side that had windows, their backs to the light. There were two empty chairs beside them. On the other side, he recognized Kurt and Evan and Kitty, the red haired girl and her boyfriend with the sunglasses, and there was another girl, this one looking sullen, almost matching one of the modern ideas of what a vampire would look like. There were also several other children that he didn't recognize, younger than Kurt and Kitty. Oh dear, time to face the firing squad…
He could feel his shoulders settling back slightly, not that it would make him look particularly intimidating, but the slight straightening effect was noticeable to him. He could feel his face taking on the carefully polite and nearly blank mask that he'd learned in an effort to keep from getting into too much trouble with his father. Politely, he pulled Ororo's chair out for her, with a small smile.
She glanced at him, offering a small smile and a soft 'thank you' as he pushed the chair back into place.
The table was already set with places for everyone, and a delectable looking assortment of food, from the roast that the red head, Jean, was it? had gone to check to corn, beans, and potatoes, soft looking rolls and small tubs of butter flavor spread, and pitchers of gravy. There were also several pitchers of things to drink, milk, and apple juice, as well as a pot of tea. Wesley resisted the urge to smile as some of the children fidgeted during the Professor's prayer of thanks for the food. It had been a while since he'd been the focus of so much attention.
The feeling of so many people watching him, trying to figure him out was easily worth being so close to Ororo. Her brilliant smiles made up for the nearly hostile glare from a younger teen with brown hair, and the looks of possible plotting from the girl in the bright yellow coat. Evan kept looking smug, with the occasional flicker of disturbed. Wesley was certain that thanks to Evan's comment, everybody in the mansion knew of his crush on Ororo. Crush sounded so… youthful, but there really wasn't a better word, unless possibly infatuation…
"You could relax a little." Ororo whispered, leaning close to his ear. "The children won't bite you."
"I'm not terribly practiced with this sort of setting. Social setting. Most of my experience has been tilted a bit the other way, with myself being one of the youngest people in the room." He almost felt like he was apologizing to her.
"Surely dinner can't be more dangerous than fighting a demon?" She had that smile again, one full of confidence and mystery.
"Perhaps that depends on who you're having dinner with." Wesley smiled back, almost not noticing the way he'd relaxed a bit, focusing more on the loveliness of Ororo than on the many staring eyes of the students.
"If you'll make certain that I'm safe from any more demons, I shall endeavor to keep you safe from the students." She was definitely smiling and amused. What was less certain… was she flirting with him?
"I'm not certain who would have the more difficult task there." He was flirting. He jut hoped that it wasn't too badly done.
Across the table, Evan suddenly dropped his fork, muttering something to himself that couldn't quite be heard. Possibly it wasn't quite an accident, he did shoot a few dismayed glances towards Wesley and Ororo as he dropped down to retrieve the fallen utensil.
"Evan? Is everything alright?" Ororo glanced over, frowning slightly at her nephew.
"umm… yeah, Auntie O. Everything's just… yeah." Evan glanced at her awkwardly, before dropping his eyes back to his plate and taking another large swallow of milk.
Wesley sighed, not needing any sort of translation of that. What Evan may have implied was that everything was fine, but what he really meant was that the idea of someone dating his aunt was freaking him out, and he wasn't certain how to deal with it. Especially when he might still be thinking of Wesley as 'that strange guy who believes in demons'. That could complicate his chances for… anything. Tremendously.
It was almost with relief that dinner finally ended. Ororo walked with Wesley towards the front doors, her hand on his arm. The scent of her sandalwood perfume wrapped around Wesley, a subtle call, imprinting deep in his mind, calling up all sorts of sensual images that were really not needed at this moment. "Diner was… unforgettable."
Chuckling, she nodded, half turning so that she faced him. " I suppose that is one way to describe it. Perhaps we could try something… less crowded? Perhaps we could meet in the park on Saturday, for an afternoon picnic? Maybe at one?"
"That sounds wonderful. Shall I bring anything in particular?" Wesley smiled at her, some small part of him attempting to cheer in jubilation inside.
"Perhaps some fruit. It seems very difficult to keep much on hand here, it seems to be eaten rather quickly." She tucked her hair back, looking at him. "I will be looking forward to it."
"So will I." Wesley smiled, and after a few moments of internal debate, kissed her fingers before starting off towards his bookstore. He was already debating the best sorts of fruit to bring on Saturday.
End part 11.