THE HEAVENS OPEN
By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)
With thanks Severine. What would I do without you?
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
****************
"I know who my Daddy is!" Young Aurora announced to her mother one afternoon.
The weak sun was rising, and the mother-daughter pair had decided to venture outside for a walk. Jubilee actually found herself too warm in the layers of clothing and mittens. Perhaps all the talk of outdoor games and fun was not as far-fetched as it had seemed.
"Who, Rory?" Jubilee asked. She would play along, wanting to investigate how Rory's mind worked. She wondered if the child would respond with Sam's name --- he spent so much time with her --- or perhaps Bobby or Wolverine. The child, as her mother, favored those three men. Rory was three years old now, and bright.
"Peter Pan!" she claimed.
"Really?" Jubilee asked, smiling. She and Rory were within earshot of Wolverine; he'd insisted on keeping tabs on them during their outdoor trek, though it had seemed over-protective to Jubilee. She wondered if Wolverine was smiling over Rory's statement too.
`Probably not,' she realized. 'He ain't smiling much these days.'
"I love him!" Rory exclaimed, throwing her arms open. Her mother and Sam frequently read Peter Pan stories to her.
"That's good, sweetie," Jubilee responded. She wondered whether to add words to the effect of Peter Pan being just make-believe and not real life, but she felt now was not the time.
****************
Alexander put the medical textbook aside after having spent several hours that day trying to catch up on his reading. He rubbed his eyes. In the quiet of his quarters, he then pulled off his clothing and settled into bed. He couldn't say that he loved his life aboard the Vengeance, but it was so much better than his time as a captive of FOH. Alexander had lived with the constant threat of torture or death as a prisoner of FOH. The Vengeance did not provide an ideal living situation, but a stable one in which he did not fear. And besides, he had the company of Moonstar and Storm.
Storm….
Alexander allowed his thoughts to drift pleasantly. He recalled the Wind Rider's sparkling eyes. The determination in her face when he was able to observe her training on the holodeck. His thoughts turned more intimate, too. The gentle but insistent pull of erotic sensations started to lap at him.
The erotic feelings suddenly grew deeper and more intense. Alexander experienced them, soon to find himself rapidly drowning in them. He did not actively try to cease the sensations, but he began to grow alarmed at their intensity. Reaching a hand downwards, he saw that within the span of a few seconds, he had a raging, full erection. He then, for a few split seconds, struggled against this onslaught of sexual response. But the struggle was fruitless and he surrendered, allowing himself to wallow in it. It was almost as if his mind would not allow him to question his deep sexual desire.
The door to his room slid aside, and Psylocke entered, with cat-like grace and agility. Alexander's mind was so muddled, he could not form the words to question her for walking in unannounced.
"Want some company?" she asked smoothly, seating herself on the bed and reaching a hand to touch his hardness. She bent towards him, and her low cut neckline did its job; little of her generous bosom was left to the imagination.
"N-no," Alexander managed pathetically. Dimly, he realized what was happening. She had seized control of his mind. Part of Alexander was conscious of the invasion, but only a small part. Once again he attempted to muster the will to fight, but he could not climb out of the swimming pool of his desire; the heavy water weighed him down.
Betsy smiled. She had no qualms with her actions, and had been justifying them to herself for days. She was not taking control of him the way she did FOH soldiers prior to mutilating and killing them. She had simply turned up the volume on Alexander's desire and suppressed his judgement. Psylocke increased his arousal now, making the desire dominate completely his consciousness. Even a person with resolve made of steel would not have been able to resist.
Seeing that her capture of her prey was complete, she deftly removed her robe. Her body had been deprived for far, far too long. This situation was not ideal as Psylocke would generally prefer a partner who took more of the lead. She knew, from probing his mind, that Alexander normally was such a partner, however the lull she had put on his defenses weakened this aspect tonight. An unfortunate side effect which Betsy had known to expect. So this would have to do, and it was far better than no sex, as far as she was concerned. She glanced at his hardness, noting that it appeared more than adequate to the task.
*****************
Dani Moonstar bent over Marrow's body and worked her magic. It was not every day that Marrow allowed her to give a massage. Dani paid special attention to the bones that protruded from Marrow's back, rubbing them gently. A lot of them were bent and growing at unusual angles, from places which shouldn't have bone. Other areas of Marrow's back did not any bones protruding; Dani reached around the bones and touched the skin.
"Oh Dani," Marrow whispered, enjoying the massage. She guessed that Dani's hands and arms might be tired, so she reached for Dani's hands and started kissing them. She kissed the fingers.
This was new. 'Finesse' was not a word that could be used to describe Marrow in bed. At Dani's questioning look, Marrow said, "I'm kissing your fingers 'cause they make me feel so good."
Dani fleetingly wondered whether Marrow had heard the line in a porn film. 'Well, maybe not,' Moonstar thought. The words did sound awkwardly sincere. Marrow slid a few fingers inside her mouth.
"Kiss me like that all over," Dani whispered, repositioning herself on her back.
Marrow complied. She no longer began their time in bed by diving towards Dani's breasts or pubic area. Although she tended to have to force herself to slow down, she did manage to enjoy the moment now and better explore her lover's body. She slinked downwards with the aim of kissing Dani's thighs.
"Ouch," Dani whispered.
"Sorry," Marrow apologized. A bone on the side of her body had lightly scored Dani. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Dani said. She rubbed the spot on her body. It would be fine. It wasn't the only bruise she'd acquired from one of Marrow's wayward bones. Moonstar still could not fathom how anyone could simply get used to bones jutting through skin. She had wondered before what it was like for Wolverine to propel his claws through his own skin.
They continued their lovemaking. Marrow stroked Dani's exposed clit with her fingers, before reaching down to use her tongue. "You like this?" Marrow asked after giving Dani head for several moments.
"Yeah. Stay on my clit for a bit longer," she encouraged. "I'm almost there." Thoughtfully, she added, "Is your tongue getting tired?"
"No," Marrow lied, happy to have a mission. Her tongue picked up where it left off, with added enthusiasm. She reached one hand up towards one of Moonstar's breasts and, minutes later, Dani reached an unfeigned orgasm.
"What about letting me reciprocate?" Moonstar panted. Some aspects of life aboard the Vengeance were not half bad, she decided, still tingling from the orgasm.
Marrow shook her head and looked downwards. She still had a protruding bone in the vicinity of her groin. She'd had to cut off part of it and file the base down --- the bone was no longer or wider than a finger, now. She couldn't explain why she relished penetrating Dani with it.
"Come on," Moonstar encouraged, following the direction of Marrow's gaze. She spread her legs. "It's okay."
"You sure this doesn't hurt?" Marrow asked.
"Not at all."
Dani, too, had wondered how and why Marrow enjoyed this particular act. As Marrow slowly entered, she guessed that perhaps Marrow's clitoris was close enough to skin in this position that the friction stimulated her. `Well, she does get some pleasure from having her bones touched—maybe that's it,' she speculated. Marrow was on top of her now, thrusting into her, covering her mouth with her own. Dani kissed her back, inserting her tongue inside Marrow's mouth. Marrow groaned her way to a climax.
Although Dani kept a journal, she hadn't written much lately and so she hadn't been as introspective as usual. She couldn't say when or why she began to enjoy sleeping with Marrow. `She should repulse me after that last killing spree—and after what she almost did to me – but she doesn't,' she wrote once. `She does seem sorry. And she's been so much….nicer, maybe. More normal at least. Or more like a lover should be.' Dani didn't attempt to write much more about it.
Later, the two women were curled up together, getting ready for sleep. "Marrow," Dani began, "which name do you like better? Illusion or Oasis?"
"Is this for your code name?" Since Moonstar had been training with dedication, she'd told several of her crewmates that she wanted a code name. She liked being called Moonstar, but that was her family name, not truly a code name. Dani had said that when she returned to the X-men, she wanted her powers in top form and a new code name to accompany them.
The thought of Dani returning to the X-men left a chilly feeling in Marrow's gut. She tried to chase it away. After all, it was nice that Dani sought her opinion on the code name.
"Yeah. I think 'Illusion' is too hard to say, though it's a pretty word. Pretty sounds." She paused and then said, "Illusion," just speaking the word, enjoying the way it formed around her lips. The gentle opening "il" sound, swallowed by the alluring "lu" sound, which was followed by the powerful and exotic "zh" sound. Dani pronounced the last syllable more along the lines of "zhun" rather than making a "shun" sound. "I **love** the word Oasis, too." She repeated that word as well.
"Oasis's a cool word," Marrow said. She slept on her stomach, with her head turned towards one side. Sleeping on her back was not an option. "But it doesn't describe what you do."
"I know," Moonstar conceded. "I still like it though."
"What about…Mirage?" Marrow suggested.
Dani loved it. Mirage. It illuminated her mutant capabilities, and the word had a mystique to it. It conjured up ancient peoples living in desert cities with powerful magicians. "My people would love this name," she breathed. "It is fitting for a Navajo woman." Dani also liked the way this word felt to her ears, the soft "mir" blended together with the long "a" and then the "zh" sound again.
Marrow liked the name Mirage too. It sounded good with her own name. Marrow and Mirage. M&M, like the sweet candy back on earth. Marrow resolved to replicate some and give them to her lover.
Marrow's mind skipped back to a comment Dani – no, Mirage – had made. She asked her to tell more about her background, about what it was like growing up on a Navajo reservation. "Like, what does it mean to you? You know, what's it mean to you as a person and did it make you the way you are? What is a Navajo, anyway?"
Dani, now reborn Mirage, opened her mouth and words spilled forth like a cool waterfall.
****************
The next day, Dani had lunch with Storm and Alexander. "So," she was saying, "please try to call me Mirage from now on."
"It's a deal," Alexander said, with a smile.
"I will certainly try," Storm promised. "Though habits die hard, and I've only known you as Dani Moonstar." She added, "Mirage is quite a remarkable name. For a remarkable woman."
Dani blushed at the compliment. She finished eating early, so that she could head to the gym and work on sharpening her powers. She'd been trying to convince Roula to agree on allowing her mind to be used for Mirage's training. Obtaining a willing victim for practice was not easy.
Storm and Alexander were now alone in the mess hall. They talked off-handedly about nothing in particular, though Storm noted Alexander was more tight-lipped than usual.
"You spoke with Psylocke about what she did to you, right?" Alexander asked Storm, uncharacteristically breaking away from his reticence. "About the time she knocked you out," he added, as if any clarification had been needed.
"Yes." Storm had spoken with Psylocke several days ago. She had distinct memories of telling Dani and Alexander about it.
"How did it go?"
Storm replayed the scene in her mind before replying. "I think Psylocke was somewhat embarrassed at what she had done when I made her realize that there was no reason for it. She broke off her eye contact with me. Of course she would never offer an apology. She promised not to interfere again."
"So she did seem to regret what she did?" he asked.
"In a way, I think yes. I don't think remorse is an emotion she's comfortable with though."
At Alexander's behest, Storm then relayed as many of the details as she could remember regarding the encounter. He listened. Mortified at his encounter with Psylocke, he would never tell anyone else what she had done to him. But Alexander knew he had to ready himself for a confrontation with her; he did not want that evening to be repeated.
When Storm was done recounting the story, he promptly changed the subject. "Have you seen Roula or Thyme a lot lately?"
"No," Storm replied. "I wish I had." Frustrated at her lack of progress, she refrained from saying more. She still wanted to communicate with them, having the eventual goal of convincing them to change the violent ways of the Pirates. Roula had avoided Storm since their meeting with the Conqueror. Thyme opened up more, but nothing Storm said would convince her that enacting revenge and murder on FOH troops was immoral. And Dani didn't seem to care that much either, especially now that things with Marrow seemed better than they had been. Storm hoped that they would not encounter any more FOH vessels.
***************
The best thing we ever did was for Kurt to use his teleportation to take us to a better area on the planet for outdoor "summer fun."
We had been stranded, now, for two and a half months. I think we were all starting to get sick of being inside the starship. And although it had warmed up some outside, it was still only in the 20's and 30's – not getting up to the warmth Hank had forecasted. It was tough for all of us, especially the kids.
So Jean-Paul carried Kurt one day and they went on their own expedition. They found a place that would've taken us weeks to arrive at, if we'd been on foot. The temperature was warm enough that we could be comfortable outdoors with a light jacket and maybe gloves. It felt like a heat wave compared to the freezing place at which we'd been staying. It was a grassy area with a lake and some lush trees bearing brown and green leaves. Jean Grey confirmed that no indigenous people were within the area, and Wolverine didn't sniff any predatory animals. So Kurt teleported people and equipment, with Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie also using their hyper speed to fly equipment back and forth. It wasn't quite as scenic as the Paradise Planet or An'zhina but, again, it was fairly picturesque compared to what we'd been used to.
Pretty soon we had a few tents set up, a barbecue fired up (the barbecue we had brought from An'zhina; it was clean-burning so as not to pollute the air on this planet), and a volleyball net set up. Freedom also had a canoe on board; it had belonged to FOH. We inspected it, pronounced it fit, and small groups went canoeing down the lake. The hiking was also good, though we had to be careful – no trails existed and we did not want to spoil the land.
I went hiking a few times. Like I said, it was ok but the scenery was nothing compared to some other places we've been to. You see a few mousy trees, you've seen them all. This was a far cry from foliage on An'zhina which ran the gamut of colors, including lavender and turquoise. In this place, flowers were few and far between, and even they were mostly shades of brown.
A few times we went up a hill and I made an ice slide for people (mostly the kids) to enjoy sliding down. The slide wouldn't harm the ecosystem, as it would simply melt. We'd hold the kids in our laps and slide down. The kids loved it; the adults didn't care for freezing cold ice on their butts, so I was usually the one taking the kids down the slide.
Generally, we didn't sleep at "our little campsite"; we returned to the ship when darkness fell after having spent most of the day there. (Though Wolverine insisted on spending several nights there, much to most people's consternation. I know Jean telepathically checked in with him when he did so.) It was still pretty cold during the night. We had set tents up there, but they were mostly for relief from the sun during the day, or to take cover when it suddenly rained.
Rain did occur sporadically and usually without a lot of warning. I remember once jogging back from a hike with Jubilee, Rory, and Sam, and crowding our damp selves into one of the tents.
Another day I was with a group that took all three kids on a short hike. We found a grove with a few trees standing in a circle. The site was unremarkable except that three of the trees had these small hollows at their bases. Rory immediately scampered over to one and curled up inside of it. A few times later, the kids were taken to this grove and found little gifts that we had beforehand placed inside the trees' hollows. The kids' eyes were wide with surprise and happiness the first time this happened, which brightened all of our days.
So overall the place itself wasn't majestic in appearance, but it was still a wonderful change from being inside the starship. I have many fun memories of playing other games with the kids while the sun shone overhead, or napping under the shade of a tree while listening to eerie bird calls. I was coaxed into several volleyball games where no one cared that my serves were pathetic (considering how competitive we are in the Danger Room, we're pretty relaxed when it comes to games like these.) And I enjoyed several canoe trips, including one where Jeanne-Marie and I sat back and let Jean-Paul do most of the rowing. He didn't seem to mind. We also had fun trips where the twins used their hyper speed at rowing and made the canoe just zoom around the lake. My heart sped.
Every now and then, you could almost make believe you were on earth until you saw some strange reminders letting you know you were on an alien planet. You'd see an oddly shaped bush resembling nothing on earth. Or you'd lean back and put her hand in the grass or the soil, and the texture was unlike any grass or dirt you'd touched before. As a gardener, I wanted to understand their vegetation and learn about how things grew here. But I'm also a lazy slacker, and I even kinda tuned Hank out when he started to theorize about it one day as we sat under a shady tree. I know, I'm pathetic.
*****************
Oh. There was one evening that wasn't quite so fun. We were sitting around a circular lawn table, playing one of the board games. It was Jean-Paul, Rogue, Gambit, Sam, Jubilee, Hector, and myself. The table was too small for so many people, and we were really packed around it, like sardines. As sometimes happened during our days outdoors, a little giddy and wacky atmosphere fell over the table. We were all so happy to be outside; a lot of giggling and joking was taking place. A few naughty jokes were told, jokes that probably would not have been uttered had Cyke or Kurt, for instance, been around.
I sat between Jean-Paul and Gambit. Jean-Paul had been resting a hand on my thigh. Suddenly I felt the hand disappear. I looked up, and saw Jean-Paul looking at Gambit and smiling. "Ooops," he laughed. "I put my hand on the wrong thigh. Oh, I'm so sorry, Gambit!"
Gambit smiled, going along with the joke (Jean-Paul obviously did it intentionally, and wasn't trying to hide that – that was part of the joke). Gambit said something polite and witty, and Jean-Paul's hand went back to my thigh. I thought about bringing it up with Jean-Paul later, because it did kinda bother me, but I decided that you have to let some things go and I didn't want to make a big deal out of it. So I made myself forget about it.
*****************
Gambit enjoyed Northstar's attraction. Breaking his vows to Rogue was unthinkable—and he wouldn't hurt Bobby that way either – but it was exciting and validating to be wanted.
Besides, none of the other women on the team were attracted to him that way. Gambit had insecurities about losing his touch. Jean, Jubilee, Jeanne-Marie – none of them salivated over him, which Gambit found perplexing and almost a bit of an affront. So Northstar's attentions were not unwelcome, though they would never be reciprocated.
*****************
Wolverine sat outside one day, his back resting against a tree. This day was unusually warm and, having grown used to colder temperatures, he found himself starting to perspire. He reached for his drink to take a swig and disappointedly discovered that the beverage was tepid.
"Hey, Bobby," he called. He gestured for him to come over.
Bobby got up from the board game he'd been playing. Kurt had teleported a picnic table and chairs to their site, and Wolverine noted that the X-men were still playing the same games as before; they had only moved them outdoors.
"Would ya?" Wolverine asked, handing him the canteen.
"With pleasure," Bobby said, with a million-dollar smile. He worked his magic on the canteen, cooling the contents.
"Thanks."
Bobby turned back towards the game. Wolverine sniffed the air, picking up the scent of Northstar's fresh ejaculation. It was maybe a few hours old and had, of course, been washed off. But Wolverine's nose always picked up remnants.
Jubilee, Jean, and Rogue all had similar residues from their respective lovers. Over the years, Wolverine had gotten good at ignoring such scents, but lately he could not. His body cried out for its own release. Being outside with females would bring these feelings on for Wolverine, sure as summer follows spring.
He sat back and looked. Jean sat not too far away, on a blanket as she cooed to Christopher. The boy had woken up from a nap and sounded very fussy. Wolverine noted Jean's tight shirt straining across her chest, outlining her luscious breasts. He'd gotten lazy about chasing such observances away, even as he knew Jean had the ability to pick up on them.
Rogue sat at one of the ends of the table, playing the same board game as Bobby. Her shorts allowed ample view of her shapely thighs. They were slightly less lean than Storm's, possessing somewhat more rounded flesh. No less muscular than Storm's, though shorter.
He tried to stop that line of thought. Rogue was a friend, one he'd never truly desired. Today she looked exceptionally attractive, but he'd been deprived of sex so long that anything female looked tantalizing to him. Wolverine would definitely not allow himself to pay similar attention to Jubilee, despite the fact that she, too, was a grown woman and an attractive one at that.
So he averted his eyes from Jubilee, instead turning his attention to Jeanne-Marie. She was playing a spirited volleyball match with Northstar, Cyclops, Sam, and Hector. He admired the strength with which she hit the ball, and the energy with which she pursued it. But given the state his mind was in, those thoughts were very quickly replaced with others. The bounce of her breasts, which did not appear tightly restrained. Her shirt occasionally rode up, revealing her abdomen. Jeanne-Marie generally did not favor tight clothing, but today her shorts cleaved to her bottom. It was a waste that she'd sworn off men, that her desire was stymied. She'd been such a tart during most of her Alpha Flight days. Wolverine had never slept with her, but she had made overtures. Those days in Alpha Flight felt like a lifetime ago. He returned to watching her body, visualizing how nice it would be to have her laying on her back on one of the blankets here, gently working her shorts down. Or perhaps using his claws to tear her shorts off as he listened to her willing gasp of excitement.
Enough, Wolverine told himself. They were all off-limits and none of them was the woman he adored. Even if one of the four women on this mission had been willing, he would have turned her down, never wanting to hurt Storm again. Taking the risk of ruining their relationship was not an option.
His brain understood the need to cease his cravings, but his body could not. The pleasurable-yet-slightly painful sensations stirred in the area of his crotch. Time to return to his room, he decided, and again attend to a physical need. It was a pale imitation, never as satisfying as the real thing.
"Where's Nightcrawler?" he asked Jean, as he stood up and gathered his items. "He out hiking?"
"He returned to the ship," Jean replied. "You can call him and come get you."
"I'll take you back." The voice belonged to Jeanne-Marie. Apparently their match had finished up. Jeanne-Marie looked victorious.
"Okay."
When Nightcrawler was not available, the Alphan twins were one's only means to return to the starship. The journey would take days by foot or air for those not gifted with super-speed or teleportation.
Jeanne-Marie scooped Wolverine in her arms, and they began the trip back to Freedom. He sniffed the air during their rapid and brief journey back to Freedom. Jeanne-Marie's scent reached his nostrils. She did not particularly desire him, though she wasn't completely devoid of sexual desire either.
******************
Rogue and Gambit picnicked outside one late afternoon, enjoying a postponed lunch. They didn't have too much time left to finish their meal as the sunlight started to fade already. Several unwanted visitors accompanied them on their picnic; warmer weather had brought a resurgence of insects. Although they were not swarming, they were present. Hank devised a spray that would protect the X-men from insects without harming the planet's ecosystems. It usually seemed to work.
Gambit reach for the bottle and sprayed himself with more of the repellant. "Want some?" he asked Rogue.
"Thanks, Sugar." She took the bottle and lightly dusted her exposed forearms. They were the only area of her body, aside from hands, face, and neck that were bare. Rogue would have preferred warmer weather and thus more abbreviated clothing, but chilly gusts still circulated in the air.
"You packed a nice lunch, chere."
"Thanks, Remy." She smiled and added, flippantly, "Took me all of three minutes. I replicated a few things and threw 'em in the basket."
"And it is my pleasure to share it with you, amour," he said, reaching for one of her hands and kissing it.
Rogue's heart fluttered. "Remy, how is it that after all these years, you still can make me feel like how I was when I first met you?" There were so many times when he would give her a look or say a few certain words, and Rogue would be transported back to the strong-willed, sass-talking former villainess with a wall of steel surrounding her. She had tried to hide – to herself and others—how much the mysterious, sweet-talking Cajun made her melt inside. She had not been able to hide it for too long.
"It is 'cause you still have dat same affect on me," he said, his voice smooth as honey.
And though his voice may have been smooth, she knew he sincerely meant the words too. His words touched a nerve. "Hey, Remy," she began quietly, "I wanna say I'm sorry. I ain't been such a good wife lately."
"Chere," he began, in the tone which Rogue knew meant he didn't agree with her.
"No, no, really, Remy. I ain't been. I been moody and all pissy." She spoke the truth. Some days she withdrew from the others and even from Remy; other days, her countenance seemed normal. Her sexual desire had ebbed and flowed since the miscarriage as well. She went for longer stretches of time without desire than ever before. Remy found that disconcerting, though he reminded himself to be patient.
None of this was easy on him. "Dat's pretty normal for what we been 'drough. An' I been moody too," he admitted.
"Yeah, but you don't show it the way I do." Rogue knew that her bad moods were a loud Southern thunderstorm. Remy's, on the other hand, were the humid quietness before the storm, a steady and subtle rumbling. His tendency was still to bottle it all up. "An' I worry 'bout that too."
"I'm doin' okay chere. You know dat. Some days better den others but I be alright." He reached for her hand and held it. "But chere, I don't wanna hear you say stuff like you ain't bein' a good wife. You know dat you are. You know dat I love you more den anyt'in."
He pulled her into a kiss. They pressed their lips together gently and softly. Rogue melted into his arms as he slowly inserted part of his tongue within her mouth.
"Remy," she began, when she their kiss ebbed. "I been thinkin' 'bout somethin' else too. Been thinkin' that maybe I don't wanna try again."
"You mean not try to have anot'er baby?" he asked.
"Yeah. I know, seems I change my mind every day now. But now I think I don't wanna try to have another one. Ever."
Rogue had brought the topic up a few times before, sometimes saying that she wanted to try again in a few weeks or months, other times saying she did not wish to try again. She had not spoken about wanting to attempt to get pregnant for a long time now. And today she sounded resolute.
"How would that sit with you, swamp rat? If we don't ever have kids?"
"I told you, chere. I t'ink I can go for whatever you want. I jus' want you to be sure." Since he had been able to openly express his hesitations about becoming a parent, Remy had felt more comfortable saying he would go along with what Rogue wanted. He could live with it if they never had children. Most of the time he felt that he probably would even prefer it that way. He could also live with it if they decided to try again, though his fears of another miscarriage – and another Rogue breakdown – simmered. Her decision to not have children was extremely comforting.
"Well, I been feelin' sure lately. Maybe bein' parents ain't in the cards for us." She paused. "Remy, you sure you're jus' gonna be ok with whatever I want?"
"I told you, chere. I mean it. If you want to try again, I would do dat. If you didn't want to try again, then I can be happy wit' dat too. You know dat I jus' want your love."
Rogue laughed. "You had that since the day you met me, Swamp Rat, and you know it."
The couple soon decided to return to Freedom. Gambit reached for the communicator, but it sounded before either of them pressed a button; someone was trying to reach them.
"It's Nightcrawler. Can you come to the ship right away? We have a situation."
Kurt's voice conveyed concern. Rogue and Gambit looked at each other. "Of course," he said.
*******************
Nightcrawler teleported Rogue and Gambit to the conference room adjacent to the bridge, where they found most of the others finding their way to seats.
"What's going on?" Bobby asked.
"It's the Cetians," Jean said. "I can sense that they are on their way here." At Jean's words, the room fell silent with dread.
"Our long-range sensors – those that are still operational – confirm that," Hank added. "A vessel similar to those Cetian vessels we encountered before is on its way here."
"Are dey comin' for us?" Gambit asked. He was instantly taken back to the black soot of the mines, its mess all over his hands and face. Other random memories careened through his mind -- his eyes starving for sunlight, the back-breaking work, the darkness of the mines filled with exhausted men speaking in strange tongues. Sleeping on a tattered sleeping bag over which various bugs wandered freely.
"I don't know if they even sense that we're here," Jean said. "Us specifically, I mean." A few heads turned as Jubilee, Cannonball, and a loudly protesting Rory ushered each other into the conference room. Gambit turned and saw Charlotte, sitting next to her mother with a look of consternation on her face. "But they know that there are other…humanoids on this planet. From their previous visits here."
"The bastards had slaves from all over the galaxy," Wolverine mumbled.
"Jean, we need details," Cyclops said, sounding much more like the commanding team leader than Jean's loving husband. "Tell us everything you're able to sense. How far away they are, how many ships they have, their weapons."
"During our last battle with 'em, their firepower was comparable to ours," Rogue interjected. "They weren't easy to defeat but they weren't too tough either."
Rogue remembered those days, speeding towards Cetian space so that the X-men could free Gambit, Bobby, and Wolverine. Once she had learned that Gambit was alive, the days had passed at an agonizingly slow pace even as the X-men had warped towards the Cetians. Rogue remembered training with an unmatched fervor. She had wanted to jump out of her skin. She remembered Storm being such a major source of strength and serenity, and the memory made Storm's absence suddenly all the more unbearable.
Gambit looked at Rogue and reached for her hand, holding it tight. He didn't need to whisper anything to her; he had shared her agony during the time he was held captive. He missed Storm too. The remnants of their mind-link allowed him to pick up on those thoughts of hers.
"They couldn't detect our cloak either," Nightcrawler added.
"But who knows what sort of advances they've made since then," Cyclops said impatiently, looking at Jean and wishing the others would be quiet. Jean was their best and only hope at getting inside the Cetians's minds and learning how much of a threat they truly posed.
Jean, however, had been on An'zhina during the X-men's encounter with the Cetians. "Was the Professor able to read their minds?" she asked. She had, of course, been "debriefed" on the mission when the X-men had returned to An'zhina and Jean knew she must've discussed it with Charles at one point but she truly didn't remember, having been so thrilled to be reunited with Scott.
"He—he didn't ever mention it," Rogue said. "I remember when the Professor told us that Remy and Wolverine and Bobby were alive. But he never said nothin' 'bout readin' the Cetians."
Cyclops spoke, "I remember talking about it with him at one point. He tried to read their minds a few times but said they were a lot harder to penetrate than human minds."
"Ah, that's right!" Jean said. "I remember discussing it with him when he returned. He – " she stopped at the gravity of her words, "—he didn't have much luck reading their minds."
"Maybe he just didn't try as much," Bobby offered.
"We were all pretty hell-bent on gettin' you guys back," Rogue remembered. "I can't believe he wouldn't try to read their minds more. But I was so busy trainin' in the Danger Room, I scarcely remember."
"What happened back then don't matter," Wolverine said. "What matters is whether Jean can read their minds now."
"And not only that, but whether she can influence and control them too," Cyclops added.
Everyone in the room turned their attention towards Jean. She closed her eyes. "I sense their approach. Of course. But I….I am running into trouble getting any more detail than that." She paused, seemingly resuming her efforts at reading their minds. She shook her head. "Their brains are different than humans'."
"Our cloak is up, right?" Bobby asked.
"Yes," Cyclops said, disturbed by Jean's words.
"But we must be mindful of what Cyclops stated earlier," Hank warned. "There is the possibility that they have improved their technology and can now sense our cloak."
"We can't fall back on the cloak. We have to be ready for battle."
"We're gonna redouble our trainin'," Rogue said.
The X-men set about checking the status of their weaponry, examining what had been damaged in the asteroid collision and what hadn't.
***************
All of a sudden, I was back inside a muggy, hellish prison. Surrounded by rocks emanating a reddish glow, my muscles aching, I was a slave once more in the Cetian mines. A jolt of pain ripped through my bones as the guard used the collar device on me to force me to bend to his will.
Moments later, Jean-Paul was hugging me. My breathing was rapid and pained as I struggled to realize the image had been only a nightmare.
"There, there amour," he whispered. He stroked my hair.
"My god it was awful," I muttered, though the voice didn't feel like mine. The words were slow and my mind still buzzed with mind-numbing images of the monotonous slavery conditions of the mines.
"You're safe here," he whispered. "You're safe. We'll be alright."
I remained in his embrace, not wanting to rise from his arms for a second. I needed the physicality of his arms around me because I was not convinced by his words. "But we're not safe," I said. "They're coming."
Jean-Paul tried to reassure me, but his words felt hollow. Who knew if the cloak would be detected? Who knew if we could fight them? Jean's telepathic read of them was shaky at best.
"We just have to trust," Jean-Paul said. "Trust that we can fight them off."
"If we can't, no one's going to save us this time," I said.
Jean-Paul continued to stroke my hair. "Let us talk and think of happier things, amour." One of his hands started to reach lower.
I reached for his hand and stopped it. "Sorry," I said. "I'm just not in the mood right now."
"That's okay." He kissed me a few times, but delicately now and without any hint of desiring more.
We stayed up and talked for a bit longer before deciding to try to resume sleeping. I fluffed my pillow back the way I liked it. My heart rate was back at a normal pace and I felt drowsy again.
"I understand why you did it."
"What?" I asked Jean-Paul. "You understand what?"
"Why you slept with that guy in the mines. I can see why you did it. I forgave you already, you know, but now I really understand."
At first his words were reassuring. But then I pondered them more. I didn't want to start a fight. And I needed Jean-Paul's support now, so I didn't say anything more other than a one- or two-syllable response. But the following day, his words echoed in my mind. Why the hell would he bring it up and bring it up **now**? The incident was years ago, it took place before he and I ever got serious anyway, and we hadn't talked about it once since he had forgiven me so long ago. So why was he saying now that he understood why I did it? Once again, I felt fear overtake me, but this time it wasn't the Cetians or their mines causing it.
******************
Psylocke now left Alexander alone. She made two more unauthorized entries into his mind – and his bed --- before she decided to cease. It was boring. While under her control, he was too docile, too predictable. Psylocke knew what he would do because she controlled it. Under normal circumstances --- as she knew from reading his memories -- he was quite a different lover. But she wasn't going to get what she wanted from him so she backed off.
Alexander had to fight to hide his disgust for Psylocke. She was no better than the FOH soldiers she hunted. He felt he could not release his rage against her directly, so he trained with Storm and Dani – no, Mirage – harder than ever. He didn't know that Psylocke never intended to violate him again, but if she did, he planned to take vengeance.
****************
Sam Guthrie had two bottles of alcohol left from An'zhina. He decided to break them out for a party one evening. The X-men had been undergoing enough stress lately – what better time to use it? He himself had no shortage of duress in his life, but he'd never liked to drink alone. The party would have to take place inside Freedom. Even though the Cetians were still -- to the best of the X-men's knowledge -- nowhere near the planet, no one ventured outside since Jean's disturbing announcement of the Cetians' arrival.
Sam asked Jubilee whom to invite to their shindig. She suggested (thinking back to a previous party) Bobby, Northstar, Jeanne-Marie, Rogue and Gambit. Sam wanted Hector on the guest list as well. "We ain't got enough booze for all these people though," he worried. Sam did not want to be a bad host.
As luck would have it, Rogue and Gambit declined. They didn't offer an explanation but Jubilee worried that they might be taking the risk of venturing outside – sensors showed that tonight was the warmest evening since the X-men had arrived.
"They can take care of themselves, hon," Sam said. "'Sides, it means there's more of this stuff to go around!"
With Rory asleep in the room adjacent to Sam's and Jubilee's, the party began. It did not consist of much more than CDs playing in the background as the group ate their dinner and enjoyed their alcohol. A half-hearted attempt was made to play strip poker (Sam wondering whether he should've felt awkward at doing so with two gay men – and one of the guys's sister --- in the room, but oddly he did not.) No one felt like removing anything beyond their undergarments though, and therefore the stripping portion of the game stopped when Jubilee, sitting in bra and panties, came in last at another round which would've required her to remove another garment. Tipsy, she shook her head no. Hector thanked his lucky stars that his fortune had held out and he'd retained more of his clothing than anyone. The group continued playing for a while longer, without anyone removing more clothes.
Later in the evening, Jubilee fell drowsy and left for the adjacent room to sleep in the bed next to her daughter. Jeanne-Marie, not wanting others to follow Jubilee's lead and the party to end so soon, later got an idea on how to enliven things. "Let's talk about the first time we had sex!"
Sam noticed he was seeing a side of Jeanne-Marie to which he'd never before been exposed. (Well, she is fairly drunk, he told himself.) He also liked the glances at her full bosom he'd been able to take when she'd been reduced to bra and slacks, but now that their poker game was over, she'd put on her shirt again.
"Well, it's your idea --- you start!" Bobby said, laughing. He hoped Jeanne-Marie would start, and then Bobby himself would be willing to follow.
Hector looked at Bobby's flushed cheeks, and then glanced at Sam. He wasn't sure how he was going to get out of this one. He'd had sex only once, and when he'd told Sam about it, he had unsurprisingly not been believed. Hector had no desire to tarnish Storm's reputation or end up on Wolverine's bad side by telling others about the incident, but he didn't want to lie and say that he was a virgin either. Hector had been sitting in a slumped position. He hoped maybe the stories would take a long time, and he could gradually appear to be losing consciousness and pass as asleep.
"Let's draw cards to see who starts," Jeanne-Marie said coyly.
"Ah, she starts it up but she can't finish it," Jean-Paul teased.
"I got a better idea!" a drunk Bobby said. "How about I put on a drag show!"
Sam decided he had to wake Jubilee up for this, and Jubilee came to be thankful for that. Bobby, clad in a stretchy white nightgown of Jeanne-Marie's, his make-up also done by Jeanne-Marie and his feet crammed into the pair of heels that Jubilee had tried to wear to Rogue and Gambit's wedding, sang and danced to one of the pop songs on the CD. Sam laughed so hard his sides ached. Hector felt tears rolling down his face at the spectacle. Bobby, never having seriously done drag before, tripped several times until he threw the shoes across the room. He stumbled over the lyrics but added several dance moves, shaking his hips and exaggerating his movements accordingly. At a crescendo of the music, he jumped up onto the bed and finished most of the song from there. He ended by stripping off the nightgown and draping it around Sam.
"That's the ugliest woman I've ever seen," Jeanne-Marie laughed during the performance. "Though her dress is lovely." She surveyed the work she'd done on Bobby's face. The blue eyeliner and mascara had been applied thickly, but the multiple colors on and above his eyelids didn't create the effect she'd hoped for. She liked the red lipstick on him and the swirls of red blush.
"She'd be cuter with longer hair," Hector added. They lacked a wig to complete Bobby's look.
Jubilee nudged Sam when Bobby was three lines into the song, "Should I wake Rory for this?"
"Sure. When's she ever gonna see anything like this again?"
Rory, groggy at first, soon laughed with delight at Uncle Bobby's performance. She danced, mimicking his movements. Jubilee realized she was never going to get her daughter back to sleep, but was too inebriated to care.
"I'm taking tips," Bobby advertised, holding out his hands, when the music was complete.
"How about an encore?" Hector asked.
"I could be persuaded, cutie," Bobby cooed, as he seated himself on Hector's lap. They both fell over.
The party diminished soon after the group ran out of alcohol. There were half-hearted attempts at dancing, but too many people kept colliding in the small room. After a while, only the toddler Rory wanted to keep the party going.
**************
After the party, Jean-Paul giggled as he handed Bobby a washcloth. The men were now inside their own room. Bobby scrubbed his face clean. "I had no idea you wanted to do drag," Northstar said.
"Neither did I," Bobby said, slurring each word. Bobby let himself fall back onto the bed.
"So tell me about the first time you had sex," Bobby said, once his lover had joined him in the bed. He wrapped his arms and legs around Northstar. He'd been willing to talk about the topic that Jeanne-Marie had raised, but no one at the party had taken the bait.
"I told you already," Jean-Paul smiled.
"You did? I don't remember. My brain's not in the best shape right now anyway," he added.
So Jean-Paul told the story, and as soon as he did, Bobby remembered it. Jean-Paul had been thirteen or fourteen, he couldn't recall. He was living and working in the circus. An older man, an acrobat, had befriended him. ("At the time, he seemed so old to me, like in his forties or perhaps early fifties. I think now that he was, at most, in his late thirties. Teenagers always think that anyone older than 30 is ancient.") During a four-day run at the acrobat's home city, Jean-Paul was invited to the older man's winter digs, a small apartment, "so that he could show me some training tips." Jean-Paul was given permission to spend a few days with him. "We worked out that first day, lifting weights and such. When we were done, he suggested we shower. By then, I knew what the deal was. And I was willing."
Bobby smiled, remembering that Jean-Paul had said this was a good experience for him and thinking perhaps it was why he often enjoyed starting their own lovemaking in the shower after a strenuous Danger Room session. He wished he could see a picture of what Jean-Paul looked like as a teenager. He would've liked to have been a fly on the wall watching him and the acrobat.
"I learned a lot from him, though I cannot remember his name. It was wonderful. When we got back to the circus, I felt so different inside. And I was more brave. I learned to spot others like us. I did not feel any shame."
Bobby kissed Northstar, glad that his lover's first time had been so positive. Bobby's head felt clearer now and Jean-Paul started to caress his body in a more inviting manner. Bobby didn't protest. He knew he'd had too much to drink but was still alert and wanting what Jean-Paul was after; if he hadn't, he wouldn't have brought up the topic of first sexual encounters.
Bobby wished his own first time had been better. As a teenager, he would make his way to the nearest large city and find the gay bars. Too young to go inside and without the means to procure a fake ID, he would hang around outside, skillfully evading the occasional cop. It was there that anonymous men who reeked of alcohol and cigarettes would take him to their cars or their apartments or hotel rooms or just outside in the darkness of the night and have sex with him. Some were good lovers, some weren't. Most spoke little during or after the guilt-ridden encounters. One was violent and forced Bobby, even after he'd told him to stop. He couldn't say he had any magnificent experiences in those early years; there had been no earth-shattering emotional bonding or heart-stopping lovemaking. The encounters had only served to scratch a maddening itch while simultaneously increasing Bobby's shame.
Those empty years were over now and Bobby delighted in the present. Jean-Paul was on top of him now, kissing him fervently. He pinned Bobby's arms back and again brought his mouth down on Bobby's, lapping at Bobby's tongue.
Bobby turned his face to the side. "A little slower," he whispered.
Jean-Paul forced himself to approach his lover more gently, but not too much so. He took the time to nibble on earlobes and neck, and kiss Bobby again, this time with more subtlety. He released one of Bobby's arms, and Bobby brought his hand around to caress Jean-Paul's shoulder. "I like your touch, amour," he breathed, looking into Bobby's brown eyes.
Bobby smiled languidly.
Still, it was not to be a slow lovemaking session that night. Jean-Paul sat back on his heels and tugged at both Bobby's steadily hardening cock and his own. Satisfied at seeing Bobby's arousal, he moved forward on the bed and brought himself above Bobby's mouth. Bobby tilted his head upwards to be able to lick at the tip of the pulsing rod he was presented with. Jean-Paul changed his angle and was able to lower a bit of himself inside the wet cavern of Bobby's willing mouth. Bobby's tongue and lips were skillful. Jean-Paul thrust a few times inside Bobby's mouth before abruptly changing position.
He swung himself around so that his mouth was now near Bobby's penis. Licking and sucking on it, he listened to Bobby's moans and tried to gage when Bobby might be ready. Bobby tried to grab a hold of Northstar's lower body and reach his cock, which was jerking with anticipation. But they never had much luck in attaining the "69" position, so Bobby settled for pulling on it with a hand. And he was nearly overwhelmed at what he felt from Jean-Paul's mouth. Bobby wanted to hold off on coming; he preferred coming after penetration, so he had to will himself to not get too aroused until Northstar was ready.
When Jean-Paul released him to take a breather, Bobby reached towards the nightstand and procured the bottle of lube. He handed it to Northstar with a glint in his eye. Jean-Paul returned the glint with a fair amount of animal lust thrown in. "Pull your knees to your chest, amour."
Bobby did as told, and Jean-Paul prepared him and prepared himself. He showed more restraint, now, as he entered his lover slowly and carefully. Northstar leaned in closer to reach, once again, for Bobby's lips and kiss them with fervor.
Bobby lay back, his body and mind pleasantly relaxed from a combination of the alcohol and his lover's touches. His skin felt on fire as each sensation danced across his body. He felt Northstar penetrating him slowly at first, and then with more speed later. They looked into each other's eyes during several long and slow strokes. When his legs were getting too tired, he gave Jean-Paul the signal and they switched into a more comfortable, standard position with Bobby face down on the bed. His pert rear jutted up in anticipation.
Northstar slowly thrust, as he nibbled on one of Bobby's ears. Bobby moaned, completely focussed on the joyousness he felt – his body completely vulnerable and open to the man he loved and who loved him. Northstar's whispered words in French which told of how much he loved him, how much pleasure he was receiving.
"Can I go really fast now?" Northstar asked after a while.
Bobby permitted it, and Northstar broke away to apply extra lube. Every now and then, Northstar wanted to use his hyper speed in the bedroom. He reinserted himself and worked up speed, gripping Bobby's hips. His thrusts became rapid, then frantic, and then moved at an inhuman speed. To Bobby, it felt as if he were being completely filled in all places, all at once and very intensely. He liked it, if prepared and in the right mood. Northstar adored it, his sexual delight boiling. "Mon dieu!" Northstar cried out with his orgasm.
Later, Bobby reached an exuberant and intense climax by jerking off onto his lover's chest. Northstar wiped the sweat off his brow with a towel. He absentmindedly dabbed at his lover's cum with a finger.
"Love you," he whispered reaching up to kiss Bobby.
"Even though I'm a lousy singer?" Bobby asked. He had needed the release of this evening, both the fun with the group and the sex with his lover.
"The singing wasn't so bad but I don't know about that dancing, amour."
"It was the heels."
*****************
The next morning, the X-men assembled in the mess hall for breakfast.
"Uncle Bobby sing and dance!" Rory exuberantly told those at her table. "Last night."
"He did?" Rogue asked, a bemused look on her face. She exchanged a look with Gambit, and they looked at Bobby. Bobby smiled.
"He sure did!" Jubilee responded.
"He wear pretty dress too!" Rory added. "And make-up!"
Gambit playfully raised an eyebrow at Bobby. Bobby shrugged and looked at those sitting at the table, blushing. "No wig though," Bobby mentioned, wishing he could think of something wittier.
He examined the room nervously and felt relief at noticing that Jean and Scott were not within earshot. Wolverine, however, had a half-grin on his face as he mumbled, "Sounds like we missed some party."
****************
TO BE CONTINUED
Author's Note –
I wanted to let everyone know that The Heavens Open – and thus this entire trilogy – is edging towards the finish line. I predict three or four more chapters before the end. Just wanted to give you a heads-up. I hope you will like what I have in store. Please send any feedback to me at stormkpr@usa.net