Hope for Victory
By: Lily Handle
Author's Note: This whole story can be summed up in one quote: "Dancing is the perpendicular expression of a horizontal desire." We have the return of naughty Hope, and a dancing Logan. Believe me I had fun with this one.
Dancing, is above all things, a form of communication, between man and music, between man and the gods and, most importantly, between a man and a woman. Dancing was first man's way of reaching the gods. People danced to beg for rain or for favors or for victory. It was a form of the everyday worship. When cultures evolved and "civilized society" was formed, dancing dropped out of the worship of gods, and became the worship of music. It was an art, to be practiced to perfection. High society, low class, middle class no matter the station, everyone had a form of dance. A dance became a moment of music and the emotion that stemmed from it. Dancers leapt in joy or circled in sorrow. They celebrated with clapping, stomping jigs, and fought with passion with tangos. Passion is the main sustenance of dancing. Without passion, lust and longing dancing would be…boring. Men and women lock horns on the dance floor to push each other. If you can match me on the dance floor, I bet you can match me in bed. Lust. How well can you match me? Do you move when I prompt or are you intent on making me go your way? Passion. Again, spin me again. Dip me again. Pull me close, only to push me away, again, and again and again. Longing.
The Chandler Mansion shone like a gem in the middle of the South Carolina forest that surrounded it. Little lights twinkled like stars outside where people milled about to escape the dancers and socialites inside. They held real crystal champagne flutes as they chatted casually about how well the Mansion looked, completely rebuilt from the tragic attack. And didn't the family look splendid? the oldest daughter especially so since she suffered so much from recent events. Of course the whole reason the Chandler's were throwing the gala was to celebrate their daughter's once again good name. Some of those on the pool deck were a little surprised that the Chandler's had been so forward thinking as to invite the students and staff from "that school" and whispered behind their flutes about the daring move. Then, of course, the conversation shifted back to safer topics. No one wanted to be caught speaking ill of the Chandler's and not be invited to the next event.
The most common topic of conversation tonight, Dr. Hope Chandler, was maybe three minutes away from throwing herself into the pool to liven things up. She had never been more bored with a party then she was right now. She was also a little annoyed. Since arriving she had seen Logan maybe once and that was the back of his head as her father dragged him away to "socialize". She knew he wasn't exactly pleased with having to come to this event and she was surprised he hadn't simply ignored her father. When Hope had tried to follow her mother had intercepted her and said there was an important family friend she just had to see. She hadn't known her father and mother would plan so well to separate them. And her father could at least have the decency not to vanish on her or take Logan with him. Of course the rest of her family was plainly visible and regularly made passes by her every fifteen minutes or so. She sighed into her drink. The pool was looking better and better.
"Good to see you again, Dr. Chandler," Colonel Fury said, appearing from the crowd like a ghost. He looked quite different in a tux and it took Hope a few moments to realize who it was talking to her.
She smiled at his friendly, non-related face, "Colonel, it's nice to see you again." She let him kiss the knuckles on her hand and was grateful he didn't offer congratulations on escaping that dreadful trial right afterwards. One would think she escaped from a prisoner of war camp by the way the high society guest were treating her.
"You look fabulous," he said instead.
"Well, my mother insists I look my best," Hope waved a hand off in the general direction of where she had last seen her mother. She'd been unreachable until a few days ago, and her mother had decided to take care of her appearance needs for her. Mary Chandler chose a simmering red dress and the family rubies for her oldest daughter, and Fury wasn't the first to compliment Hope about the outfit. The best reaction, by far, was Logan's when she had asked for his help buttoning up the back. He had whispered in her ear that she was lucky he could be a very patient man. She had replied easily that by the end of the night he wouldn't be. Too bad he had been kidnapped and her plans to drive the man crazy vanished with him.
"I try to humor her," Hope explained to Fury.
"I can tell, but you look rather bored," Fury gestured to the grand hall, decorated with splendor and grace, "Would you rather be somewhere else?"
Hope thought about lying, as she had to the other guest who had asked her the same question, but this was Fury, "Am I that obvious?"
"I think only to the trained eye," Fury patted her knee reassuringly, "You should try dancing."
Hope sighed, "I would love to, but each time I'm ushered off the floor by one concerned brother, or sister, or mother. Apparently I'm still recovering from "what happened"."
"Ah, slightly over protective, I see."
"Slightly is an understatement," Hope snorted, "I'm just waiting for them to suggest I take a nap or pack it on for the evening." It was only rounding ten o'clock, but Hope had caught Michael casting her a few worried glances.
"You can tell them off," Fury lifted Hope's drink from her hand and set it on the bar top behind her, "And you can indulge an old man with one dance."
Hope couldn't help but laugh as she took Fury's hand and slid from the bar stool she had been perched on, "Well, I'm sure my family will make an exception for you, Colonel." And if they didn't, Hope would scream and then go back to dancing. She'd tolerated their "little" tendencies, but they were throwing this shin-dig for her and damnation, she was going to enjoy it. She let Fury lead her out onto the dance floor, and gracefully prepared herself to help steer him through the steps, but Hope blinked in surprise as Fury led her expertly.
"Why, Colonel, you're full of surprises!" Hope laughed, "I would have never suspected you know how to dance."
"Well, Doctor, with all the brown nosing I'm forced to do I've picked up one or two useful things."
Logan, on the other hand, was seriously contemplating killing the man he was suppose to be listening to as he talked about the shipping taxes to Italy with Marcus Chandler. There were just something's a man shouldn't have to endure. While he hadn't been excited about going to a fancy shin-dig like this one when Hope had waved the invitation around at dinner, a certain red dress had made the evening slightly more appealing. Then, the bulldog of Chandler Mansion had dragged him off and the little red dress—and the woman in it—faded from sight. He was now on the second floor balcony, planning a murder.
"Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Logan?" Marcus asked him suddenly and Logan returned his attention to the man.
"Don't know much about shipping," He said, hoping it would end his involvement with the conversation. He didn't want to be rude to Hope's father, who thought highly of him and was generally a likeable enough guy, but he wanted to be seducing…dancing with his daughter. An interesting idea to think about, one that held much more appeal than listening to the minutiae of the shipping industry. While whatever his name was with the handlebar mustache droned on, Logan glanced down at the pool, to jump or not to jump? He might just be able to make it, there wasn't much concrete between the balcony edge and the pool if he got a running start. It was close enough to the house that he could see the inside of the house in the reflection. He watched the crowd a little bit, ignoring the slightly politically incorrect terms, and studied the dancers that occasionally appeared in the water. It was while trying to ignore handlebars that he caught her reflection in the pool. She was dancing with Fury. Damn.
"Excuse me," Logan said, sliding into a break in the conversation, "Why don't I go refresh our drinks?" Before Marcus could tell him not to bother, Logan grabbed their glasses and slipped away into the crowd. If he didn't get his hands on that red dress and the woman in it, there was going to be some trouble.
"Fraulin Doktor!" Hope jumped away from Fury and leapt excitedly into Maverick's arms when he shouldered his way onto the dance floor next to them.
"Maverick!" She gave him a smacking kiss on the lips, "Mama said you couldn't make
it!"
"Ah, never underestimate the favors owed to a freedom fighter, liebchen," He said dropping her back to the floor before turning to Fury and saluting, "With all due respect, Colonel, I would like to steal your dance partner."
Fury gave a half-smile, "Well, I guess us older-timers just can't compete with the young bloods today. Treat her well, Lieutenant."
"Of course, sir."
Hope leaned over and kissed Fury's cheek, "Thank you again, Colonel, for the dance and everything else." Fury's only response was the nod and then he vanished into the crowd as swiftly as he appeared moments before. With traditional zeal and finesse, Maverick swept her up into his arms and joined the flow of dancers.
"Now, Doktor, where is my blustbruder? I would have thought he would be the one dancing with you tonight," Maverick asked as he pretended to scan the crowd fearfully, "I would not want him thinking I stole you from him."
Hope laughed, "Well, don't you know, Maverick? I'm only using you to make him jealous."
"Ah, I thought so," Maverick shook his head sadly, "You're breaking my heart, bildschön."
Hope reached up and patted his cheek, "I try."
Logan caught her scent first; that airy perfume and some spice that was solely Hope's. He passed the glasses off on some unsuspecting waiter, and then followed his nose. Over the chit and chatter he caught her laugh and then a deep, familiar baritone. Ricko was now the one dancing with Hope. A growl escaped and a few party guests looked his way surprised. He paid them no mind. The Viking had his hands on his girl. Even focused as he was on getting to the dance floor and getting Ricko away from Hope, he noticed Michael Chandler trying to intercept him and Thea Chandler heading for the center of the dance floor. Well, he'd just have to be rude and Logan started shoving his way through the crowd.
"Hope!" Thea Chandler called as she wove through the dancers towards her sister, who was dancing—dancing after everything that happened to her, not good—with Lieutenant North. Thea had thought he couldn't make it and frowned. Papa had warned them to make sure Hope didn't over do anything. The bar tender was given specific instructions to serve her only a few drinks, and nothing too strong. Thea and Mike had been charged with keeping her off the dance floor and Mama was to make sure no one gossiped her ear off. So far they'd been doing a bang-up job, but then Fury had snuck through the lines and now, the German had invaded. Thea pushed through the last of the dancers blocking her way and caught Hope rolling her eyes.
"Oh no," Hope groaned and sighed, "Well, it's been so nice talking with you Maverick, but I believe the Calvary is coming to ground me."
"Hmm," Maverick considered her, "I think I see a solution here." With a smooth side step, Maverick grabbed up Thea, and started dragging her away from Hope.
"Excuse me!" Thea glared up at the thug, "I need to speak with my sister."
"No, I think not," Maverick replied easily.
"Oh, and what do you think?"
"I think you need to dance with me and leave your sister alone." Thea was too stunned by the frank response to protest.
Hope stood in the middle of the dance floor, frowning after her sister and Maverick. Well, it was all fine and good that Maverick had stopped her sister, but now who was she suppose to dance with? She supposed she could find Hank? Or maybe drag Logan away from her father? Of course, where was her father? was the question. She was looking around for a sign of her father's white hair when someone grabbed her wrist, and pulled her sharply around.
"Logan!" She gasped, bracing her hands on his chest.
"Found ya," He growled, "Now, how about a dance, Doc?"
"Splend…" Hope trailed off as the music ended, "I guess not." Logan looked about to kill something, probably the nearest dancer or the four piece orchestra, when the first rumbling notes of the tango drifted into the air. Since most of the dancers decided they weren't up for the strain of the tango they drifted away from the floor, leaving Hope and Logan practically with the whole floor to themselves. Hope looked up and Logan, and felt a shiver race down her spine at his grin.
"You know the tango?" He asked.
She raised an eyebrow in challenge, "I believe the correct question is do you think you can keep up with me?" Faster that she could blink or think Logan whipped her through the first few steps. Only her years of dance saved Hope from stumbling or crashing into Logan when he pulled her back against his chest. "Oh, this will be good, won't it?" She asked him, rather breathlessly.
"Darlin' you ain't seen nothin' yet."
"I told you they were sleepin' together," Thea Chandler said to Michael Chandler as Maverick dragged her past him, released her and then vanished in the crowd. Quite a feat for a six foot giant like him, but Thea didn't pay him much mind now that she was free. Her attention was fixated on her sister and Logan as they moved across the floor. She had never seen her sister glow like that as she danced.
"It's a tango, everyone looks like they're sleeping together when they dance the tango," Mike snorted, trying to cling to those last shreds of denial. He could hear his sister raise her eyebrow when Logan dipped Hope back, then brought her slowly upright, his hand traveling up her calf, under the slit in her dress, before slipping out and moving to the small of her back.
"Told ya."
Hank stood at the back of the crowd, trying to deny what was right in front of his face. Even the glimpses he could catch at this distance told him Hope was lost. There was a painful twist in his chest, and an ache intensified. He'd ignored the implications of the kiss he had almost witness and the fact that Hope returned to the Institute on the back of Logan's motorcycle, but now it was staring him in the face. He's lost Hope, again.
"We'll be having a talk, you and I," Hank muttered to Logan as he watched. "I promise you that." Turning away he walked out onto the pool deck and ignored the stares some of the guest. Hope had convinced him to come here without a holo-watch. He wondered if she knew he couldn't deny her anything. He sighed into his drink.
"I'm sorry, Hank," Ororo said, laying a hand on his shoulder. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.
"It's not your fault," He muttered, "All this time, how could I have missed it? Honestly, for a scientist I'm not very observant."
"Well, I think we've all been a little blind here," Ororo said honestly, "He hates doctors with a ferocity that is sometimes scary, we both know that. Even when I had my suspicious I dismissed them."
"When I met her in college, it was love at first sight."
"You've never really talked about how you two met," She prompted him and he shook his head.
"I was in the stacks, looking for a text on the evolution of ape to man and she glides up next to me and introduces herself. Next thing I know she's chatting away with me over coffee, trying to get me to help her out with the class work." Hank sighed again, "I should have told her how I felt. I thought…" He shook his head, "It doesn't matter what I thought. I was wrong."
"Woah," Kurt said.
"You can say that again," Bobby said.
"Woah."
"Anyone know Logan could dance like that?" Scott asked, his tone clearly conveying
the shock all the students felt as they watched the toughest guy they knew spin a woman with all the grace of Fred Astaire.
"Nope," Kurt said, then let put his fingers in his mouth and whistled, "Go Logan!"
"What are you talking about?" Kitty laughed, "GO DOCTOR C!" The students quickly took sides, cheering on their favorite dancers and in the back of their minds each wondered how far the dancing really went. Being that they knew Logan regularly went after students who ran away they weren't too surprised by the fact that Dr. Hope had returned with him. Kurt and Kitty however had exchanged glances and wondered if maybe they should fill their friends in on the little scene they had witnessed. Later that night Kitty had sworn Rogue to secrecy and blabbed everything to her. Rogue took it fairly well, she just shrugged and said it was none of their business. Kitty had rolled her eyes, of course it wasn't any of their business, but that's what made it so interesting. And now, right before their eyes everything they speculated about was being played out.
Since he was taller than everyone else in the room, Maverick stood in the way back to watch Logan. He had always appreciated his friend's skills on the dance floor, and watching the Doctor, who had more than enough skill to match Logan, was just something one didn't see everyday.
"Lieutenant North," Maverick glanced down at Charles Xavier, "Enjoying the show?"
"Ja," Maverick answered shamelessly, "Took us long enough to get them out there, didn't it?"
"I almost thought we'd never accomplish it," The Professor commented casually, "Thank you for telling me about Logan's considerable skills."
"Ah, it's nothing. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't help him get the girl every once and a while?"
"And Colonel, thank you for getting her dancing in the first place," Charles said as Fury joined them.
"Hey, espionage is what I do best, and I must say it was a first rate plan you had, Professor," He raised his glass to the dancing pair, "Here's hoping they both get what they deserve."
"Here, here," Maverick and Charles said.
From the edge of the floor, Marcus Chandler stood with his wife, watching as Hope, his oldest daughter, transformed from his sweet, innocent baby to daring, steaming temptress right before his eyes.
"Oh my," Mary gasped, watching her daughter with wide eyes. Marcus would be the first to tell anyone about Hope's skill as a dancer, but he had never seen her dance like this. She was visibly fighting with Mr. Logan, who pushed her right back. You didn't have to know a single thing about dancing to see that these two were trying to out do each other.
"I thought you had him occupied," Mary whispered to him as she fell under the spell the two dancers were weaving over everyone who watched.
"He slipped away," Marcus growled, not enjoying the way that boy's hands were moving over his daughter's back or the way his daughter was pressing herself against that damned boy.
"Oh dear," Mary sighed heavily, "I guess there's nothing we can do now then."
"Damn wrong about that, Mary," Marcus growled, heading for the floor to pull that rascal off his daughter, but Mary grabbed his arm and when he looked at her she shook her head at him.
"You're so blind, Marcus. Can't you see they're falling in love?"
The moment she started dancing, all of Hope's attention was focused on following Logan through the moves, or gently…persuading him to try others. He spun her, dipped her and danced her with a skill that made her mouth water. She always appreciated a man who knew how to dance and Logan didn't just know how to dance, he was the dance. For this moment, they were a signaler entity that strove to move together, but in the end have one come out victorious. She wanted to win because against him she so rarely did. He wanted to win to show her he could make it in her art form. They wanted to seduce each other so that there was no question of right or wrong choices. This is how much I want you, he told her as he caressed her through a spin. This is how you make me tremble, she shot back, running her foot up the back of his calf. They equal parts gave and took from each other, all while following the music. This was there own world, forged in steps, spins, and dips. Anything outside this place didn't existed and for a moment they didn't have to worry about correct behavior in public and decency. Everyone knew the tango was just dancing's version of sex and in this place they could get away with it. It thrilled him to be able to claim her like this and she was elated to be taken. Called together by longing they took out their frustrations about the night on each other during the dance. Where were you, she asked, crossing her leg behind his. Dealing with your over-protective father, he answered back, spinning them around their crossed legs. Oh, well, it's not like you've got the strength to pull away from him, she growled as she let him spin her around him. I was trying to be polite, he explained through gritted teeth as he jerked her towards him. Damn it, I missed you, she whispered violently as she arched against him. Yeah, same goes, he told her, stroking her back. This silent dialogue was played out for all those watching and no one dared interrupt them until the music dropped away. The dancers ended in the fantastic position of him holding her up as she bent backwards over his arm, one set of hands locked together and extended towards the floor. Both were breathing heavily but even with the uproarious applause, their eyes stayed locked until slowly he let her back up.
"We're in my room tonight," He growled violently against her ear. She was so spellbound she could do nothing but nod. There was no doubt in her mind who had just won. When he released her she felt like someone had taken something vital from her. She curtsied when he bowed to her and still in a daze let Michael cut in and start a much more sedate two step with her.
"You alright, sis? You look flushed," Michael said casually, but when Hope looked into his eyes she saw over protective brother.
"Yes, I'm sleeping with him," Hope said softly, answering the question she knew he wanted to ask, "Would you like to know how long? Or maybe I should tell you how skilled…"
"Woah, stop there," Michael blanched, "I just want you to be careful, okay? I worry about you, but it's just because I love ya."
Hope sighed, "I love you too, Michael, but I'm 35, I can handle a relationship all on my own."
Mary Chandler dutifully sent her husband to get her a drink and a little something to eat and then slipped through the crowd to where Logan stood, drinking Whiskey by the look of it and watching her eldest daughter.
"Mr. Logan," She said with genuine sweetness as she reached his side, "I would love a chance to dance with a man who is so skilled." From the look in his eyes Mary could tell he was trying to see if she wanted something else from him, and she kept her face impassively sweet. What few people knew about Mary Chandler was she was quite the fox when she needed to be.
"Alright," He said finally, giving his drink to a passing waiter and leading her back onto the floor. She could tell he wasn't the type to appreciate skating around a topic and went right for the throat.
"Mr. Logan, I've noticed you have a certain yen for my daughter," She said easily, because honestly she liked the man, "Now, normally I would have steered her away from your type. You're a little rough around the edges, Mr. Logan, and please don't take offense, you're so blue collar. I would have picked someone very sophisticated and high brow for my Hope, but I guess I've been wrong. She needs someone who won't handle her with kid gloves when she's being whinny and someone who won't scoff when she cries at sad movies."
Mary smiled when she noticed Logan was uncomfortable, "She has a romantic's heart and the imagination of a child, but she's damn smart and capable. She'll give you a run for your money, young man. I'm very glad to see you can keep up with her."
Author's Note: If you can't tell, this is kind of a mini-epilogue for The Power of Hope. I wanted a chance to explore everyone's feelings about the mysterious return of Logan and Hope, together, at the same time. Of course, it was also a fun thing! I needed something fun to write. Also if anyone knows where I can get transcripts for Ascension 1 & 2, could you send me the link? Thanks a bunch!
