THE HEAVENS OPEN
By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)
CHAPTER NINETEEN
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Storm had a wonderful dream one night. The X-men were at earth, and she was with them. Wolverine stood at her side. They both were powerful, strong, and brave – side-by-side, totally united in their love for each other and their convictions.
The X-men were liberating an FOH camp. Storm was leading one of the charges, swooping through the air and commanding the elements. FOH succumbed to the X-men's power. Mutants were freed and FOH soldiers begged to be forgiven as they realized the heinous crimes they'd committed against mutantkind. Thrilled with the success of their first mission, the X-men continued on, liberating camp after camp. Civilians cheered as mutants were rescued and FOH was toppled. Families and loved ones were reunited. The thrill of victory coursed through Storm's blood.
She then woke up. She groped for the light, wishing fervently to someday again experience the sensation of light filtering in from a window gently waking her from sleep. The artificial light of her cold quarters was a measly substitute. Storm blinked and glanced at her clock. By their ship's time, it was six a.m. She tried to recapture the elusive sensations of her dream but they had faded away. Sleep would not return either, which truly wasn't surprising. Six a.m. was becoming her usual waking time anyway, and how could one fall back asleep after such a triumphant dream?
Storm decided that she could not tolerate another day like this. Another long, monotonous twenty-fours hours with the same routine, waiting for night to arrive so the pattern could begin once more. `I believe that things happen for a reason,' Storm told herself after praying. `There is a reason that I am a member of this crew as well. Sitting back and tolerating the ride is not acceptable any longer. It is time that I make some changes.'
Less than an hour later, Storm and Dani sat in Storm's room, eating breakfast together as they frequently did. Storm shared her dream with Dani.
"Wow," Dani mused. "It sounds so cool. But hey, if the X-men's mission is successful, maybe that's pretty much what's happening now." The tactics the X-men had agreed upon were somewhat different than what occurred in the dream, Dani and Storm knew, but perhaps the results were the same and Jean's telepathy altered the thinking of enough people. "Maybe the dream was a sign that all is going well."
"Perhaps. Hopefully," Storm remarked. "I also believe the dream might have been a vision from the Goddess. And perhaps there was a call to action within it as well…. something we are supposed to do too."
"But what?" Dani asked, once she'd finished chewing her hot omelet. The morsel burst with sausage and cheddar cheese flavor, which Dani loved. Without the rest of the X-men, Moonstar took a less rigorous approach to training nowadays; Storm was not the type to nag. And with eating being one of the main points of interest of the day, Dani had been gaining weight. She already had needed to replicate a new, slightly larger pair of trousers. "We know we can't leave the Pirates. Psylocke will stop us, and she's got no problem with getting inside our heads and messing them up."
"Maybe we have a role to play in another area. In getting the Pirates to change their actions." Upon seeing the confused look on Dani's face, Storm continued. "We've approached this…stay with the Pirates as if we were passengers with no control over what occurred. Now I wonder whether that is the right way to go about this."
"But, Storm, we **are** passengers. We're not even allowed on the bridge."
"I am not suggesting that we attempt to take over the ship, and fly it to earth to free FOH camps. Rather, I am suggesting that we work to influence Marrow and Psylocke….and to get them to see the error of their ways."
"You mean get them to see that killing FOH soldiers is wrong."
Storm nodded.
Dani said, "Well, I dunno Storm. I mean….I agree that it's wrong in principle, I guess. And I sure wouldn't want to kill anyone myself, unless it was in self-defense. But the thought of them getting revenge on FOH doesn't bother me that much."
"Perhaps that is because you have not seen it first-hand. I dread the day we meet an FOH vessel, Dani," Storm said, her voice heavy with sorrow. "I think that the bloodshed and killing will be agonizing for us to watch. Even if we do not watch it, I do not want to hear about it or deal with the other members of this ship after they have killed. Think about it, Dani. Do you want to sit down to dinner with Marrow after she's just killed dozens of soldiers? Will you really want to take to her bed after that?"
Dani looked at her plate. "I guess not. Not that I **ever** want to take to her bed that much." She paused, "Though I hate to say it like this, but getting her revenge on FOH might be a good thing if it puts her in a better mood."
"Violence begets violence. It only comes back to haunt the person who commits it, no matter how justified their reasons may have been."
Dani shrugged. "Rogue, Gambit, and Wolverine sure don't seem like they're haunted by what they did to the soldiers." She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth, wishing she hadn't brought up the name of Storm's lover. Moonstar hadn't been with the X-men so long ago when this incident with Wolverine, Rogue and Gambit had happened; she knew of it only through word of mouth.
Storm did not appear angry though. She absentmindedly stirred her tea with a spoon, gazing at the dark liquid. "That may not be true. I believe that they did take a lot of time to heal…from everything, from what they did to the soldiers and what the soldiers did to them. It took Gambit and Rogue far longer than it should have for them to get back together afterwards," Storm mused. She remembered those bittersweet days, how the X-men suffered much but ultimately grew stronger together. The camaraderie! Its absence nipped at Storm. "I….well, what does it matter?" she asked, breaking off that line of thought. "I am certain that Marrow and the others will never have their psyches healed if they keep perpetrating violence. Would you rather spend the rest of your time here with someone who is mentally damaged as she is, or someone who's getting better?"
"Definitely with someone who's getting better. Which, by the way, Marrow has been lately. She's really grooving to those massages." Moonstar had shared with Storm that Marrow had improved her countenance after the time she massaged her, and that they had made the massages a semi-regular occurrence.
"Do you care about her?" Storm asked.
Dani again shrugged. "I definitely am not in love with her. Most days I don't even like her, but yeah I guess I care about her a little. **This** much maybe," she said, holding up her thumb and index finger less than an inch apart from each other.
"And her feelings towards you?" Storm asked. "Have they changed?"
"Yeah, from what I can tell she went from having a serious obsessive crush to having a really **really** serious obsessive crush." Dani sighed. "I thought her…..crush would wear off after a while, but it hasn't yet. Of course," she added dismissively, "we still have a long time to go before our year is up."
"How would you feel about using your influence over Marrow? To try to persuade her?"
Dani's eyes widened. "You mean….like sit her down and give her the speech about how killing is wrong?" She smiled. "It's a nice idea, but it's been tried, Storm. You yourself tried it that time back when you guys beamed them on board Freedom and prevented them from blowing up that FOH ship. Hell, you had that talk with her back when she joined the X-men."
"Perhaps hearing it from you would make more of an impression. Or perhaps another tactic could be used."
"What do you mean?" Dani asked. She didn't like the tone of Storm's voice.
"You can use her…her crush on you, Dani. Use her feelings for you. You could tell her that the fact that she has killed bothers you; it makes you feel cold towards her. Perhaps you could even tell her that if she demonstrated some remorse….and maybe even vowed to not kill again…., then you could warn to her."
Dani looked back down at her plate because she did not want to look at Storm. She had to collect her thoughts for a few moments, incredulous that the woman she so admired was suggesting such a thing. "So I should use my feminine wiles, like women have throughout the ages, to soften up the big bad Marrow." She phrased it as a statement rather than a question. "Sheesh, Storm it sounds like something out of one of those creepy romance novels or something."
Storm kept her expression placid. She sometimes forgot how mature Dani was for her young age. "If it makes you feel uncomfortable, then certainly do not do it. I am only proposing the idea for you to take it into consideration."
"I don't think so, Storm. I don't care about FOH soldiers enough to sell myself out any more than I have." This time the bitterness came through loud and clear in her voice.
Storm reached for Dani's hand and covered it with her own. "Dani, I am sorry. I did not mean to ask you to 'sell out.' It's only that I recognize the situation we are in and the limited choices we have. And the fact remains that Marrow listens to you."
"Or does she? I've never really asked her for anything. I just kinda go along with whatever she does."
"She did listen to your massage idea though and apparently she likes it. I think she would listen to your ideas about killing too."
"Yeah, but even if she did, there are still three other crew members of this ship. What about them?"
"Well, I cannot say that I know any of them well," Storm began, "but I have some ideas in mind. I want to try to talk with Roula and Thyme. Each of them separately. I am not going to attempt to preach to them, but rather approach it as getting to know them, find out about their pasts. I will share my own past and attempt to get them to open up that way."
"You have no idea what you'll find. They might be more gung-ho on killing FOH boys than Marrow and Psylocke are. And what about Betsy Braddock?"
"I have been thinking of her quite a bit. She and I have hardly exchanged three sentences since we set foot aboard this ship, but I do speculate about her. She seems….bored, I might say. I do not think she is happy here, with the course her life is taking. It's just speculation," Storm qualified.
"If she's bored, it might be because we haven't encountered any FOH ships for a while."
"That is possible. It might be wishful thinking that makes me wonder whether she's bored with the mission of the Pirates." Storm took a breath. "Betsy is going to be the most difficult one to deal with. She and I were never the best of friends when we were in the X-men, and since the time when we rescued her from the camps, our relations were frosty at best."
"Really?" Dani asked, the curiosity in her voice.
"She went through a stage where she….desired Wolverine. She and I had several bitter encounters at that time. In fact, that is likely contributing to her boredom here. She likes having sex with men, and she obviously hasn't been able to do it for a while." Storm didn't want to think much more about the last time Psylocke had had sex with a man.
"Unless she's doing it on the holodeck. I mean – ick – I shudder at the thought of having sex with a simulated character in a computer program, but you know there are people who do it."
Storm and Dani looked at each other and giggled at the thought of Psylocke creating made-to-order lovers on the holodeck.
****************
"You and I never talk about sex."
I cornered my best friend one day when he was taking a break (yes, he was actually taking a break – Cyke must've ordered it) from his engine repair work. We found ourselves enjoying privacy and sipping beverages, sitting in a conference room.
Hank looked thoughtful. He stroked his chin for a bit and slowly nodded. "You are right, perhaps."
"I just realized that the other day. I think that's the weirdest thing. I mean, you're like my best friend. I talk about sex---a lot---with my other friends." Jubilee and I had made it a practice that we shared pretty much every detail of our sex lives with each other. (I mean, I can't say I was interested in Sam but I still wanted to know certain details about him in bed.) Even before Jubilee had a sex life, she'd pump me for details of mine and I'd spare none. And I talked about sex with Rogue and – to a lesser extent -- Gambit.
"We have discussed it within a medical context," Hank began.
I thought about it. "Well, yeah. When I had sex with that guy on Ceti III, you asked me what he and I did. But only because you were testing me for STDs and you wanted to determine the level of risk I'd taken. And after Jean-Paul was…attacked by FOH, you told him not to have any….how did you put it?….anal-receptive sex."
"Anoreceptive," he corrected.
"Is that really a word or did you make that up?" I queried, a grin on my face. "Anyway, that's it. That, and after Jean-Paul was diagnosed too but then you just mostly gave us stuff to read about what we could and couldn't do in bed."
Hank nodded. He summarized, "I believe you are correct then. Outside of a medical context, you and I have not discussed sex."
"Don't you think that's odd? I mean, I think it's weird. Like I said, I talk about it with my other friends."
"Well, I believe that the explanation for this is tied directly to our pasts. When we first became friends, nearly two decades ago, you were struggling to accept your sexual orientation and therefore avoided discussions regarding sex. I had never engaged in any sexual behavior before, and therefore had no confidence in this area—nor would I have had much to contribute regarding this topic."
I nodded. "Makes sense. Okay, well now like seventeen years have passed since then, and I've got more confidence, and you've got a wife. We're both like way better adjusted than we were before and you're actually having sex now. Or…well, you were before this mission. But we still never talk about sex. When you needed advice, you went to Gambit instead of me. Which made sense," I quickly added, "since I wouldn't have been able to offer much advice on making love to a woman." I paused. "So do you think that we don't talk about sex with each other just 'cause it's not our habit to?"
"That is indeed a plausible explanation. And I might add that I do not find myself discussing sex with anyone other than Panda."
"So you're basically not that interested in other people's sex lives; is that it?" I bet that was the answer more than anything. I couldn't see Hank giving a rat's ass what Jubilee and Sam – or any other couple – do in bed.
"That is correct, I would imagine." Hank then added, a tolerant smile on his face, "So where, exactly, is this conversation heading?"
We both laughed at his question. After the sides of my mouth started to hurt, I sobered up and shrugged. "I dunno. I just thought it was interesting when I realized it. Actually, I guess I'm just trying to get you to open up more."
Hank sighed but it didn't seem a like a sigh of frustration. Sadness was what I detected in it, and on his face. I saw some resignation there as well. "Bobby, I do miss Jessica and the baby; that is indeed correct. The main cause of my melancholy mood is deeper than that, however." He paused, and then finally came out with it. "I fear the prospect of Panda and I growing apart. I fear that this…separation will permanently damage our relationship. Or, perhaps I should use the past tense – I fear that the damage is already done. I wonder whether it can ever be reversed. My error with the asteroids has only lengthened the duration of our separation."
I listened to his words. "Really? I mean, you think you and Panda can't get through this? The two of you….you seemed so solid."
He was quiet for a second or two, and then looked me in the eye as he said, "I frequently question how solid the relationship ever was."
Now that really did shock me. Hank must've seen how surprised I looked. He continued, "I speculate that perhaps Panda and I succumbed to infatuation. Neither of us had ever had a romantic relationship before. When I calculate the duration of our courtship, it was quite brief; we actually were wed less than twelve months after we first met."
"I guess that isn't very long," I admitted. Everything at that time was happening so fast. Actually, everything since I'd rejoined the X-men had happened so fast; I couldn't believe that over three and a half years had gone by since the day Hank visited me in my studio apartment in San Francisco to lure me back to the X-men. Yet, paradoxically, it also felt to me that a lifetime had passed since then.
"The duration of our courtship was especially brief in comparison to other couples such as Jean and Scott, or Rogue and Gambit," Hank added.
"Well, hey hey wait a minute here. Who says you have to compare yourself to other couples? What's right for one couple isn't necessarily right for another," I said. But even as I said those words, I felt there probably was some truth in Hank's concerns. Less than a year was not a lot of time to get to know someone before committing to spend the rest of your life with them.
"I agree with you, Bobby. Still, I feel that we might have 'rushed into things', to use the colloquial. She suggested that we marry, and I accepted. Perhaps it was partly due to still feeling excitement from the novelty of the relationship, and partly from guilt."
"Guilt?" I asked. And I was mystified. This man was my best friend and I never knew these things. What else didn't I know? Had I been just blind to him all this time?
"At the time she proposed, we had on board the survivors of the third camp that we liberated. I spent 14 to 18 hours per day in sick bay and knew that I had been neglecting our relationship. And after I accepted her proposal, she revealed that she was pregnant. Postponing the wedding at that point would have seemed ill-advised – not that I had considered doing so." He paused to take a breath. He then added, "Additionally, remember that Panda is quite a bit younger than I. Her current age is 24. From a psychological standpoint, that is a young age for one to be ready to make a lifelong commitment."
"Huh," I said, nodding. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Panda's always seemed so mature, I forget how young she is."
Hank was quiet for a few moments. "If I had to summarize my opinions and feelings at this point, Bobby, I would say that I have recently been re-evaluating the relationship, and I must ponder the possibility that a set of circumstances caused Panda and I to marry quickly when perhaps a more cautious approach would have been preferable. I do love Panda. I know that I love our son too. But I hope that you now understand why I express doubts about the relationship."
I was quiet for a bit. "Wow," I finally muttered. I guiltily thought back to the days when Hank and Panda were first getting together. I had been so jealous at the time, jealous that someone else was usurping my position as Hank's number one. Part of me hadn't wanted Hank and Panda to get together, as horrible and blatantly immature as that sounds. And there had been times when I felt Hank and Panda looked so solid while Jean-Paul and I were on the rocks (like after the FOH tortured him.) Now Jean-Paul and I were steadier than ever, and look at Hank. I immediately felt guilty again after having that thought.
"Gee, Hank, I'm sorry," I said. "I—I really am glad you're telling me all this. I never knew."
"I never confided it to anyone else. Truthfully, I did not start to have these ruminations until very recently. Obviously it was a difficult time in our marriage when Panda and I were deliberating over the question of my taking part in this mission without her. Once we disembarked from An'zhina and I was parted from Jessica, I began to reflect often and commenced having these speculations on the past and future of our relationship. I began to wonder how compatible Panda and I truly are, and I oftentimes find myself pondering whether infatuation clouded our judgement."
I looked down at the table. "This must just be killing you, then. You can't even talk this over with her until we get our engines fixed and we can head back for earth….or An'zhina, I guess."
"I must indeed resign myself to the fact that dialog with Panda regarding this matter will be postponed indefinitely. I have no choice but to accept that."
"Once we do get back to An'zhina….you think you'll try to talk it out with her, right? I mean, you'll try to make it work, won't you?"
"Certainly. I have no intentions of returning home and requesting a divorce. That would be far too drastic and far too premature. Whenever we are reunited, I will do everything I can to help our marriage succeed and to be both a strong husband to Panda and father to Rob." He paused. "However, at the time I left, she was very angry with me. Whether that anger has dissipated or is simmering, I do not know. **She** might not want to continue. Irregardless, it is all speculation at this point. I must do what all the X-men are forced to do now….wait."
We sat there in silence for several moments. Hank checked his watch. "Dinner will be served soon."
"We can be late if you want to stay and talk more, you know."
"No. No, I appreciate that you listened to me but I am hungry and we should go to the mess hall now."
"Okay," I said. I then reached for Hank's shoulder as he stood to rise. He sat back down. "Hey, Hank, I just wanted to thank you for opening up with me. I mean, you know you can do that at any time."
"I know that, and I thank you for listening. I also trust you to keep this all confidential as well."
"Of course, of course," I said. And I was determined to keep my word. As surprising as this was and as much as I wanted to share it, I vowed I wouldn't tell Jubilee, Rogue, or Gambit. The twins didn't tend to gossip much (they---especially Jeanne-Marie---didn't have too many close friends), but I decided that I would try to not mention it to them either.
*****************
The X-men had been stranded on the cold planet for six days. Time passed slowly. As the temperature outdoors remained frigid, only Wolverine ever braved the outdoors. Even the loner tended to return to the ship after bouts of only a few hours at a time.
"Things been so busy up till now, I could almost forgit that I was pregnant," Rogue said. "Not that I'm complainin,'" she added.
Rogue, Jean, and Jubilee had decided to hold a "girls' night out" again, this time to discuss pregnancy and babies. However, since they were not on An'zhina or earth, there really was no "out" that they could go to. They had to settle for eating their dinner together while sitting on the floor of Jubilee's room.
Jeanne-Marie had not been invited this time. She never attended anything the other women invited her to anyway, and given what she'd experienced with her son, the topic for this get-together would have been woefully inappropriate as well.
"Wouldn't it be an odd coincidence if your baby was born here?" Jean speculated. "Charlotte and Aurora were born when the X-men were stranded on the Paradise planet."
"I hope we ain't stranded here **that** long. Heck, I'll take the Paradise planet over this place," Rogue smirked. "But yeah, seriously that would be kinda weird if my baby was also born while we're stranded."
"So you got any questions for us about what else to expect?" Jubilee asked. She liked that she had some first-hand experience to share with Rogue on this subject.
"So far, everythin's been pretty smooth. I thank my lucky stars that the baby's doin' okay since I been outta that coma. And the morning sickness all but stopped."
"Have you and Remy discussed names, or is it too early?" Jean asked.
"Funny you should mention it. We talked 'bout it a little just the other day."
It had been a stimulating conversation, evoking all sorts of memories for Rogue and Remy as well. If the baby was a boy, Gambit strongly wanted to name him after one of the members of the foster family that raised him. Rogue was fine with that idea, saying affectionately to her husband, "Anyone that raised you so well is worth bein' a namesake for our baby." She smiled seeing the way Gambit's face brightened at the thought of bestowing such an honor on either his foster-father Jean-Luc or his foster-brother Henri. He looked more enthused, at that moment, about the baby than she could ever recall.
Neither Rogue nor Gambit could, off the top of their heads, think of any girl's names they favored. Then an idea had popped into Rogue's mind. "Irene," she said. "After Destiny." She wondered why this thought had not crossed her mind before. "She and Mystique sure weren't no saints, but they did teach me to look at my powers like they were a gift instead of a curse. I never started to accept myself 'till I went to live with them; know what I mean, Remy? They helped make me who I am today. Even if they weren't perfect people --- shit, who is perfect, anyway?"
Gambit had nodded his approval of the tribute to Destiny. He wasn't thrilled with the name Irene itself, and Rogue could see this, but he couldn't argue with her reasoning. He would let her choose the name if the baby were a girl so he could hold on to his tribute to Henri or Jean-Luc should Rogue bear a son instead.
That evening Rogue did not want to divulge to Jean and Jubilee the details of that conversation with her husband. It was too intimate, but she would've told Storm had the Wind Rider been there. Rogue intensely missed her friend.
So instead during that dinner with Jean and Jubilee, she smiled, savoring the memories to herself, and said, "We got a few ideas out there but it's kinda early an' we'll start thinkin' more seriously later on."
Rogue grinned from ear to ear during a lot of their dinner as they sat and exchanged tales of burping, napping, diapering, and so forth. Jean recounted the time on An'zhina that Charlotte had gotten into the diaper pail and had smeared walls, carpet, and bed with the excrement on diapers she'd gleefully dragged about.
Rogue felt overwhelmed, in a way, to be pregnant. Overwhelmed with excitement and with thoughts on how her life would be different. She was gearing up for the miracle of giving birth, doing what women had been doing for millennia, connecting with something elemental and primal. And it was thrilling to be now fully admitted to an exclusive club which Rogue had once thought denied to her. She was able to touch, she was in a marriage, and now she was to be a mother. She had passed through so many gates to becoming a woman, gates that she had once thought impenetrable.
****************
A couple of weeks just slipped by, with not a whole lot happening. The days were long and, for those of us not working on engine repair, relatively standard. Not that that was a bad thing, really. After all the craziness with what happened on Nari Silara, maybe the routine of the days on this planet became welcome.
Days were spent generally playing games with Rory, Charlotte, and Chris (who all seemed to love the attention), playing board games and card games with the other X-men, eating long meals together, and working out. We didn't want to squander dilithium on running Danger Room programs but we had to keep the gym open. A few times we'd all just sit around in the rec room and tell stories or read. Hank and Jean would recite poetry they liked, Jean-Paul would tell tales of circus life and early Alpha Flight days (he had pretty good storytelling skills —who knew?), and once Gambit even told of a wild adventure that "a friend" of his had back in the Bayou. Scott and Hank worked long hours on trying to understand the engines, but they seemed to make time to relax and socialize too. Given the kinds of things we did to pass the time, I kept having strange flashbacks to our time stranded on the Paradise Planet.
Except this time I had Jean-Paul, which made it much better. He and I kind of fell into a routine, but it worked for us. We'd get up early and have a really light breakfast together in our room (consisting of stuff like fruit, dry cereal, nutrition bars, etc.) We'd then go work out for a couple hours in the gym. Being there early, we found the gym usually sparsely populated or empty. After the work out, we'd return to our quarters, shower together, and make love (the lovemaking usually beginning in the shower.) He didn't like to begin touching or cuddling until we were in the shower and soaped up. Afterwards, we'd head for the mess hall where those who preferred a later schedule (like Rogue and Gambit) would be lingering over a late breakfast, and we'd join them for a fuller meal. Lunch would be light (a soup and salad or a sandwich – stuff like that), dinner more substantial. Some days Jean-Paul and I made love in the evening too, but usually it was a quicker encounter, less deep and less thorough than our morning lovemaking.
I think all the couples were also indulging in the extended stay here to get in more lovemaking. Well, I know that Jubilee and Sam were, and Rogue and Gambit too. (Of course, I can only assume about Jean and Scott, but I certainly didn't discuss it with them, given that my friendship with them was still kinda on ice.)
Jean-Paul still, by the way, met with Kurt a few times a week. He didn't talk too much about their meetings but he said he was feeling good and in positive spirits.
Another thing that made being stranded this time more fun than our extended stay on the Paradise Planet had to do with the three kids. They were older and, hence, more entertaining. I have to say, I haven't spent a lot of time around children in my life, but the three little ones were **good** kids. Really, overall, they were well-behaved kids. Charlotte, especially, in terms of being very gentle and placid. Rory was shaping up to be more remnant of her mother, a little more high-spirited and lively. She could be so adorable at times. Christopher's personality I wasn't as sure of yet because he was only like 13 or 14 months old at this point, I think. He was a little young to be exhibiting as much of a personality as the girls, but so far he behaved himself pretty well too. (I spent less time with Christopher, too, than with the girls for reasons that I'm sure anyone can guess.) Considering that the kids were cooped up inside a starship, they handled it alright.
We didn't venture outside much. It was just too cold, and there was so little to see outdoors anyway. Miles and miles of white snow surrounded us. Typically it would snow about every other day, and it never seemed to warm to the point where the snow melted. The sun shone intermittently and it must've helped chip away at the snow, but so much continued to accumulate that we were never without it. And even when I took my Iceman form, I was still too cold to remain outdoors.
A few times, we bundled the kids up and made snowmen outside. I used my powers to help direct some snow. But it was too cold for the kids (or anyone, really) to be outdoors for any long period of time. The wind smacked against our faces, feeling akin to rapid strokes inflicted by a whip, and Charlotte began to get teary. So soon we all rushed back in and treated the children to hot chocolate.
I recall having once or twice complained about the weather on An'zhina. I used to say it was great but it was too monotonous and that we could use some more variety. After all, on An'zhina you never saw temperature extremes; it was never too hot and muggy or too freezing. Well, I now had what I'd wished for, at least on one of the extremes.
Wolverine slipped outside a few times but even he was never gone for too long and always returned. As miserable as he had been during this mission (and I don't exaggerate; a blind person could see that he was broken-hearted without Storm) and as much as he must've desired to separate from the herd, even he could not withstand the chill.
You might think it became almost claustrophobic inside the ship, but I never really felt that way. Actually, Freedom felt more like a warm and cozy haven against the frozen outdoors. Sometimes we were bored, but I enjoyed the days of lounging around the rec room and just talking about nothing in particular with the other X-men.
We also continued to all train together as a group. These X-men training sessions were held nearly every day. We couldn't use the full abilities of the Danger Room but we could still drill together, splitting off into teams to do mock-battles.
On a warmer day, I decided to see about breaking out of the comfortable routine of mine. I asked Jean-Paul if he wanted to fly out with me. (That would be, with him doing the flying while carrying me.) I guess he was ready for something different as well; he agreed. Jeanne-Marie declined our offer to join us.
I've described it before, so I won't do it again. Just let me say once more how amazingly cool it is to be held in the strong arms of the one you love; he flies through the air as you look down and see the ground swirling by. It was a truly awe-inspiring experience, and breathing the fresh air of this planet exhilarated me to the point where the cold bothered me less so.
"What's that up ahead?" I asked.
"Those look like the structures that Rogue and Cannonball discovered before," Jean-Paul replied.
He flew lower so we could get a better look. They indeed looked like the crumbling buildings that Rogue and Sam flew over, which I had seen only from the video feed.
"Let's at least look at one of them," Jean-Paul said, slowing down and descending. "I could use a chance to set you down anyway."
"What, your arms are getting tired?" I teased. "Even that super-strong Endarian arm?"
"The arm the Endarians gave me is no stronger than my real arm, and you know it, Bobby."
"I know," I said, as Jean-Paul positioned himself to set us down atop one of the structures.
"This one looks solid," he remarked.
I looked at it, blinking away trepidation. He set me down gently on the top of the building, and he then landed next to me. The wind cut against my exposed face and I wished that I had brought a face mask.
"Isn't this amazing?" Jean-Paul enthused. "We are standing on top of this structure. We are probably the only people from earth to ever have stood here!"
I mumbled something to the effect of "Yeah." Maybe it was the cold getting to me or maybe I had just gotten used to living this way. But he was right; I should have been awe-struck by the simple fact that I was light years from earth and standing atop some completely alien structure, but I wasn't. Space travel and everything that went with it had become banal.
But, like I said, maybe it was just the fact that my toes were numb and I wanted to get back to the warmth of Freedom.
"I wonder if this is where the people lived or if these were some sort of gathering places," Jean-Paul murmured as he surveyed the area.
I listened to his words and suddenly felt sympathy. We should've brought Hank. He absolutely would've loved looking around and exploring. And yet we hadn't bothered to bring a video camera either, so Hank would have to rely only on our retelling of what we'd seen.
Once I thought of my best friend, I really opened my eyes and took in our surroundings. I wanted to be able to recall them for Hank. There were a cluster of buildings, perhaps a dozen, within visual range. All of them were dilapidated; we were standing on the one that was in the least amount of decay. The buildings were all fairly large. All of the structures looked as if they could have held a couple dozen people. Most contained no windows and only a sort-of oval-shaped entrance. A few of them contained chimneys. Of course, half the buildings were so decayed that I couldn't tell too many details about their structure.
I bent down and removed a glove. I gently ran my shivering hand along the rough texture of the building. "I wonder what this is made of," I murmured. "Feels like some kind of stone." It didn't have the texture of wood, and I didn't see any trees around either.
"Hey, look at that," Jean-Paul said, pointing.
I followed his gaze. There were some markings on the side of the building next to the one we stood upon. The markings were in some sort of swirling shapes. Many contained concentric circles but there were other swirly designs too. They decorated the building in a variety of colors though mostly reds and browns. The more Jean-Paul and I looked around, the more we observed these markings on each and every crumbling structure.
Jean-Paul picked me up and flew me around, so that we could observe the designs at closer range. We stood on the snowy ground now, looking at part of a wall – all that remained of the nearest structure.
I blinked as I studied the markings. "I've seen these somewhere before," I said.
Jean-Paul looked at me. "You have? Where?"
Baffled, I had to tell him that I didn't know. I couldn't place the alien symbols, only I knew I had seen them before and I wasn't crazy,
The cold started to get to us. The wind seemed to pick up, and Jean-Paul asked if I wanted to return to Freedom. He scooped me up in his arms and using his hyperspeed, delivered us back home in seconds.
**************
The Vengeance contained a mess hall, just as Freedom did. Storm decided that for her dinner that day, she would replicate only the **ingredients** of her meal rather than replicating the meal itself. To pass some time, she was going to cook tonight.
'We have gotten so far away from it,' Storm wrote in her journal earlier in the day. 'Living in this artificial, man-made environment with every convenience at our fingertips. If we want the bathroom cleaned, we have only to press a few buttons. If we don't like the temperature, we adjust it at our whim. If we want a full meal, we have only to press a few buttons. And yet our souls are starved for real, sensual experiences. What I wouldn't give to squint at a sun rise or to feel a breeze on the back of my neck.'
Cooking dinner wouldn't quite satisfy the longings of Storm's senses, but it wouldn't hurt either. This meal would be for Storm's consumption only; Dani was with Marrow again.
The Vengeance was similar in lay-out to Freedom and therefore the dining areas were nearly identical. A large room contained long tables and multiple chairs. The front of the room contained the "kitchen" area, which was stocked with replicators as well as traditional kitchen equipment. A door and a long window separated the kitchen from the dining area. Standing in the kitchen, Storm began to prepare a meal.
"Mmmmm….what is that smell?"
Storm turned around to see that the woman known as Thyme had entered the kitchen.
"I'm cooking dinner," Storm explained to the younger woman. "Roasted chicken with side dishes of string beans and mashed potatoes."
"It smells good. And….and, hey -- aren't you from Africa? Those dishes don't strike me as African cuisine."
"I do enjoy African cuisine, but I also enjoy food from around the globe. Truly there is no type of ethnic cuisine that I dislike. Besides, I spent the last few decades of my life on earth in the US, so I developed a taste for some traditional American dishes," Storm explained. "Would you like to eat with me? There's enough for more than one person."
"Sure."
The two women fell into a steady, though somewhat stilted, conversation as Storm finished preparing the food. Thyme seemed most at ease when asking Storm questions about her life, but she seemed loathe to reveal too much information about her own. Never before having had a chance to dialog with Thyme, Storm was eager to learn as much as she could about her.
Storm learned that Thyme's chosen appellation stemmed from a love of cooking. The herb "thyme" was one of the favorites of the woman (she never did reveal her real name, and Storm respected that.) She used to love to prepare a chicken dish slowly simmered in wine with thyme to season. "Thyme" had been her nickname for years.
"Have you cooked much since you joined the crew of the Vengeance?" Storm asked.
"No," Thyme replied.
Thyme didn't share this with Storm, but she hadn't cooked at all since Marrow and Psylocke rescued her from FOH. The FOH soldiers who had imprisoned her used to force her to cook for them. They used to force her to prepare meals stark naked. Thyme had usually been allowed to wear only stiletto heels or sometimes a short apron as she prepared and served their food. They would stand around, leering at and groping her as she worked. The entire time her hands would shake, her body would barely move as she waited in terror for the assaults to begin. The soldiers didn't seem repelled by the bruises and scars covering her body.
"Do you like being a member of this crew?" Storm asked.
Thyme did. Enacting revenge on FOH was gloriously fulfilling. It was exciting and fun. Although the Pirates had encountered only two FOH vessels since Thyme had joined their crew (and none since Storm had), torturing and killing FOH soldiers was enormously gratifying. But she answered the question with only one word: "Yes."
Psylocke entered the dining area as Storm and Thyme were finishing off their meal. She declined Storm's offer of leftovers. Dismayed at seeing Thyme socializing (as with Roula, Thyme tended to keep to herself), Psylocke performed a brief scan of Storm's mind. She had to see if the X-woman was attempting to stir up trouble. After her perfunctory scan, she was satisfied with Storm's intentions.
*******************
When back inside Freedom, I made drawings of the symbols Jean-Paul and I had seen on the decaying buildings. I couldn't remember each and every design, but I did the best I could to approximate them, and Jean-Paul helped with that. Wolverine instantly knew where we seen them before.
"Ceti III," he said. "Some of the other prisoners had 'em tattooed on their backs."
Gambit apparently remembered too. "An' on deir faces. Some of dem wit'out tatttoos would take dat chalky substance on the groun' an' use it to draw dose designs on deir bodies."
"Of course!" I said, smacking my hand against my forehead. I was glad that Wolverine and Gambit had better memories than I did. If I had to make a guess, perhaps 10% of the other prisoners on Ceti III had such designs either tattooed or drawn on their bodies. Judging from the looks of the different humanoids there, the Cetians had captured and brought many different alien species and races from around the galaxy. We didn't know what the symbols meant to those prisoners who did display them on their bodies. Not sharing a common language, we couldn't speak with our fellow prisoners, obviously. We speculated that they were some sort of religious or cultural symbols. Maybe the symbols simply represented their alphabet.
"So what's it mean that you saw 'em on those structures?" Jubilee asked.
"It can't be a coincidence," I offered.
"Maybe the bastards of Ceti III came to this planet and took the people back as slaves," Wolverine said.
His explanation was the most logical, if also the most unsettling. Although Hank reminded us that it **was** possible that the resemblance of the symbols could be coincidental and that many different cultures had "similar archetypes." But Wolverine and Gambit weren't buying it. Jean-Paul flew both Wolverine and Gambit back out there on separate occasions to look at the symbols, and they agreed that they were definitely what we'd seen on Ceti III.
Whatever had happened, there wasn't a lot we could do. We still had our cloaking device and, if the Cetians ever returned, we had to hope that they couldn't detect it. Jean Grey performed telepathic scans as far into space as she could reach. We had to hope that between the two of those things, we'd be protected enough. Or that at least, if something was coming for us, we'd have enough forewarning.
************
The following evening, Gambit was standing near one of the main airlocks, preparing for a trip outdoors. He was bundling himself in hats, gloves, and a scarf. He looked at a face mask and decided on placing it inside his coat's pocket.
"You're gonna brave the outdoors?" Bobby asked, as he walked by.
Gambit looked up and smiled. "It's a clear night out dere tonight. I wanna go look at the stars."
Bobby looked around. "No Rogue to join you?"
"She's tired. She went to lay down after dinner."
Gambit saw Bobby get a look in his eyes and then hesitate. He knew what Bobby was going to ask and Gambit tried to understand why, after several years of the two of them being pretty close friends, Bobby still acted unsure of where he stood. "Do you want some company?"
"Of course," Gambit said, glad that Bobby had gotten up the gumption to ask the question. "'Dough I doubt I gonna last out dere as long as dis boy from the Midwest will."
Bobby smiled and reached for one of the coats stored near the airlock. As he watched Bobby don the different layers of protection, Gambit knew that it was a bit more than his friend's still-bruised self-confidence that had caused him to hesitate. `Mus' still be the whole gay-straight t'ing,' Remy speculated. Perhaps Bobby was still wary of straight men or, more accurately, wary of being perceived as too eager to truly befriend one. He still acted with an unsettling air of deference around them. 'After all we been t'rough, he still be like dis. Maybe it never gonna change.' Northstar was so different, Gambit observed. He apparently didn't experience any of those types of mental struggles Bobby put himself through and he wouldn't think twice of asking someone he liked to spend some time with him. Despite all the counseling both members of the couple had been through, it still appeared that one had a slight excess of self-confidence and the other a slight deficit.
The two men stepped out through the airlock. This time, fortunately, no gusts of wind assaulted their faces. It was a very still night, though with freezing temperatures below zero. Feeling the uncomfortable cold hit his face again, Gambit asked himself why he had so badly wanted to see the stars tonight.
"Dat's why," he murmured out loud. Tilting their heads upwards, he and Bobby took in a breathtaking view of the bright stars.
"It's so clear. You can see them so well," Bobby breathed.
It was true. Without any blaring lights from the planet below, the heavens appeared more bright and shimmering, like a jewelry boutique's layout of glittery diamonds and shining necklaces against a black back-drop, lit up and on display. It was quiet, too. The giant starship emitted a steady hum, but other than that, silence was present in every direction. Breathing in the sweet air with his eyes feasting on the stars, Gambit nearly felt disoriented. He and Bobby seemed enveloped in the dark sky and bright stars.
"Dat one almost looks like the Big Dipper," Gambit pointed. "Well, kinda."
"I definitely see a box-shape there," Bobby said. "I can't believe how well we can see the stars here." After a pause, he asked, "Did you ever go star-gazing back on earth?"
"Sure. A few times anyway. When it wasn't dis cold."
"We're too far away from earth to be able to see our sun from here, right?"
"Nah, I don't t'ink we be able to see it from here. 'Dough Hank might know for sure."
"I gotta bring him out here some night." Bobby then added, tilting his head back down, "I wonder what we're doing here."
"What you mean, Bobby?"
"I mean, I wonder why the X-men were brought here. What the reason was?"
"You t'ink dere's some plan to what happens?" Gambit asked. He wondered it too. He still simmered with guilt over leaving the people on Nari Silara who had helped him.
"Maybe. I – I'm not religious, you know, but I do kinda get the sense that things happen for a reason. Like, I think we ended up stranded on the Paradise Planet so we could go through some kind of healing. Some time to regroup. I'm wondering why we ended up stranded here."
Gambit was silent for a moment. He did believe that destiny had more control over their lives than they wished to admit. "We maybe not know for years," he finally murmured.
"It was weird seeing the ruins of the city that was captured by the Cetians," Bobby said. "If that's what they were. Made me wonder why that happened back then. Why we ended up their slaves for a while."
"Dunno if dere was a purpose to dat one," Gambit said. He remembered Northstar carrying him to go look at the ruins. He knew that Northstar had liked holding him in his arms as he flew him to the ruins. Though Northstar had behaved as a perfect gentleman during the journey.
Bobby shrugged. "You did teach me a lot about patience. And about optimism there. You kept saying we'd be rescued, and you were right. You helped keep me able to get up in the mornings."
Gambit kept his mouth shut, wishing now that Bobby would do the same. The last thing he wanted to do was remember those miserable days working in the mine – or to experience the possibility that the Cetians would return to this planet in search of more slaves.
Maybe Bobby got the idea that Gambit had no desire to explore this topic. He looked at Gambit and asked him, "So how've you been lately? How far along is the baby now?"
"'Bout eight or nine weeks now. We still got couple weeks before the second trimester starts."
Bobby could tell from Gambit's voice that he was still feeling a bit of what he'd actually once confided to Bobby on the warm beaches of An'zhina. They had had this discussion long ago; far before Rogue ever conceived.
"Are you still feeling a little ambivalent about having a baby?" Bobby asked with trepidation.
This time his hesitation was called for. Gambit didn't want to discuss it. "I'm freezin'," Gambit said. "Let's go back in."
They silently headed for the air lock and stepped in. Yes, he still felt ambivalence about becoming a father. He still wanted Rogue all to himself, selfish as that may have been. He knew that once you became a parent, it was forever. Their lives would never be the same. Jean and Scott and Jubilee might make it seem easy, but the observant Cajun had overheard enough conversations to know that parenthood wasn't all about cuddling an adorable toddler. It also involved babies crying through the night, eardrums ringing, dirty diapers, losing patience with toddlers who talked back at you, spit-ups on clothing, scheduled un-spontaneous sex with one's partner, and limits on free time.
Remy especially didn't care for the last two of those. Once the baby arrived, so few things in his and Rogue's lives would be left impromptu, and Gambit didn't care for having to plan and calculate each moment of his leisure time.
'Den again, dere won't **be** no leisure time once the baby arrives,' he said to himself.
And, he hated to admit to himself how selfish it sounded, but he liked having sex with Rogue every day. They rarely went for a day or two without making love; they both loved sex. Once the pregnancy progressed and the baby arrived, Gambit knew that long, bleak stretches without sex lay ahead of him. He dreaded it. And he quietly swallowed the shame he felt for his selfish desire to keep Rogue's body all to himself. The baby was an intruder to their sensual joy, as terrible as it sounded.
He also feared how the baby might change them. 'Jubilee's never been the same since she had the baby,' he thought. He knew that the changes to Jubilee's personality also were due to the experiences she'd lived through as well as simply growing older and mature. But the spontaneous, rebellious teenager was mostly gone, due in no small measure to little Aurora.
'Can't do anyt'ing 'bout dis now,' Gambit thought. That day on the An'zhinian beach, Bobby had advised Gambit to discuss this with Rogue, to share his concerns with her. He had chosen not to, and now it was too late to go back. He had to once again, as he did on Ceti III, muster the ability to hope for the best.
Once back inside the starship, the two men removed the protective layers of clothing they'd donned. After Bobby hung up his coat, Gambit put a hand on Bobby's back and gave it a few pats. "Didn't mean to ignore your question, mon ami," he said. "Jus' don't feel like talkin' 'bout it now."
"I understand," Bobby replied. And he did.
**************
After experiencing the cold of the outdoors, Gambit was eager to return to the cozy room he shared with Rogue. The room was dark, lit by only a few candles.
"There you are, sugar," Rogue cooed. "I thought you were never comin' back in." Rogue lay on the bed, wearing some lingerie that had been replicated on An'zhina. This ensemble was made up of an emerald green nightgown accented with a lacy top. Gambit nearly licked his lips at thoughts of what lay beneath the nightgown.
"Had I known dere be dis beautiful woman jus' waitin' for me, I wouldda hurried back faster," his smooth voice replied. He felt his loins stirring already at the sight of her. She crossed one leg over the other, and in doing so her skirt was hiked up. He gazed at the fullness of her thighs. Rogue tilted her head back and shook out her glossy hair. She then reached her hands to cup her breasts.
Although every urge in his body commanded him to disrobe as quickly as possible, Gambit knew the advantages of drawing it out. Undressing slowly allowed her to savor the view of his body, which would increase her desire -- thereby increasing his. As he removed his apparel, he made eye contact with Rogue and held it. She reached a hand down and began to stroke the area of her crotch. Gambit's eyes grew wider at the delectable sight.
Seeing that he was enjoying watching her, Rogue spread her legs even further apart. She moved the fabric of her thong panty to the side and made a show of touching her wetness. "Mmmm, Remy. I need you here now," she purred.
"Chere, I'm gonna give you everyt'in you want. You gonna lay back and I'm gonna lick you till you moanin' and screamin," he promised.
Rogue sighed again and deftly removed her nightgown. Now clad in a thong and see-through bra, she slowly moved the bra's material away to the sides, to place her thick breasts on display. They were now larger and fuller than ever, the nipples also having begun to enlarge. With a moan, Gambit nearly pounced on her. His tongue snaked out a nipple and encircled it before gently biting down on the flesh.
Remy moved upwards on her body to kiss her lips. Delighting in the kiss, he knew it wouldn't last too long. By now, the lovers were attuned to each other's desires, and both knew that a long, drawn-out loving session was not in the works for tonight. Eros ruled their bodies for now, and they would have to indulge their base desires. Still, their lips and tongues danced together, Remy adoring the feeling of her mouth. He lapped at her tongue. Gently, he moved his mouth to the side and kissed the side of her mouth, returning to lick her lips and insert his tongue inside once more.
Soon, however, Remy snaked back down her body. His cock was engorged and throbbing. Tonguing his way downwards, he reached her pussy, which was already dripping wet. He gently breathed a stream of warm air against her, before putting his lips and tongue to work. Licking and sucking her labia, he enjoyed the feeling of being surrounded by her thighs and legs, and listening to her moans. He inserted his tongue into her passageway and treated her to a rigorous tongue fucking. He stayed with that for several minutes, knowing he would soon move on as she liked it when he paid a lot of attention to her clit.
Gradually, with the adept skill of a fine artist, he worked his way to that tiny piece of her anatomy, which begged for attention. Using the flat part of his tongue, Remy licked. Her earthy scent intoxicated him. One of his hands reached upwards and continued to stroke other parts of her body as his tongue drove her towards bliss. Remy moaned and made other sounds with his mouth as he stroked her clit, knowing how much Rogue enjoyed the sensual feeling of the vibrations. She couldn't resist bucking her hips against him. He kept up with her and stayed on her, bringing her to a loud fulfillment.
Rogue collapsed against the bed when he was finished, sighing with delight. "Oh god, Remy. You're amazin'," she breathed. "You're like this fuckin' sex god." She knew he liked to be reminded of his prowess, and her words were heartfelt.
He smiled, sitting back on his knees. He stroked his own hardness for a few seconds. It stood long and erect.
"You look like you could use some attention," she said, smiling. She had a twinkle in her eyes as she rolled over to position herself on hands and knees.
Remy's head started to spin. He liked all different positions and ways of making love, but this one was high on his list. He licked her backside enthusiastically, before inserting his cock within her wetness.
It was sweaty sexual glee from then on. Remy thrust inside of her, feeling the intense pleasure as he penetrated her. She was so wet and so welcoming – his mouth had seen to that. He could reach around and cup her breasts, feeling the fullness in his palms and moving his fingers around the hard nipples. For several strokes, he gripped her hips in his hands and rapidly pumped away, feeling the heat from her body. He then slowed his pace, reaching fingers around to caress Rogue's clit. It was starting to resume interest in him. He then continued plundering her depths at a slower pace, waiting for her to again climb up the mountain with him. Remy had the patience. If he could have, he would spend most of his days and nights doing this.
Her arousal started to match his, urging towards a ripe fulfillment. Remy then worked the speed of his body faster once more, eagerly plunging in and out in time with her. "Oh god," Rogue groaned again, shuddering with her climax. He followed a moment behind, releasing his hot cum.
The two lay panting on the bed, wrapped in each other's arms. Rogue nuzzled her face against him, breathing in the sweat and other sensual scents. Remy reached a hand to wipe his brow.
***************
TO BE CONTINUED!
Notes from the author….
First, congratulations to Vicol! Vicol got the highest number of correct answers on the quiz from last time. If you need a list of answers, just write me. (stormkpr@usa.net)
Secondly, I now share with you a list:
The Top 10 Things That Annoy Professor X Lately:
1. We're on the third book in the series, over 1200 pages have been written, and the Professor hasn't had one "love scene" yet
2. Patrick Stewart said he might not be in X3
3. Stormkpr seems to have totally forgotten about Cerebro II.
4. Has no one to provide "father figure" to now that Scott's gone
5. Moira's still with Banshee
6. X-men's recruiting strategy a complete failure
7. Sitting down to morning tea and scones with Moira isn't exactly a revolutionary act, though watching the salsa lessons was kinda fun
8. He misses the witty rapport between Wolverine and Cyclops
9. Didn't get to go head-to-head with Dagron
10. Despite Marvel's love for bringing the dead back to life, there are no signs that Magneto's gonna be in this.