Xavier Institute
Early Morning
Ororo entered the kitchen quietly. It was early yet and she was hoping to miss the crowd. She'd been at Xavier's for two weeks now and had become acquainted with most of her teammates, save a few, and learned the patterns of the household. Most students didn't get up until seven, so that gave her an hour to get her breakfast and get out before the mob of teenagers hit.
Most days her routine was the same, training, lessons, Danger Room. But since Storm was never one for routine and found it stifling, she occasionally would take a nightly stroll, more often than not trailed by a silent Wolverine. She didn't know whether or not he knew she was aware of him, so she kept quiet as well. She began to grow accustomed to his shadow after awhile and found herself strangely comforted by his presence. She was glad he didn't speak to her, however. She had found herself thinking of him far too frequently since that first night and he had walked with her in the woods, and she didn't need those kind of complications in her life.
Inside the kitchen she noticed Cyclops seated at a long table. He was chewing a mouthful of bran flakes and the redhead, Marvel Girl, was leaning over his shoulder, arms across his back, reading the newspaper with him. Somehow that fit, Ororo thought.
Also in the kitchen, seated at the table was a young woman with spiked dark hair, covered in piercing, her feet up, apple in her hand, chewing absently as she read a magazine article. She gave Ororo a brief once over then returned to her magazine. Despite the dismissive gesture Storm liked the girl on sight. She had a street edge to her that Ororo could relate to.
Making her way to the coffee machine Ororo asked, "Who moved the mugs?"
Scott looked up from his paper and gave her a brief smile. "Second cupboard to the left. If you want I can get that for you."
She shook her head gently, causing her thick snow tresses to glimmer in the sunlight. "No, the day I'm too invalid to get my own coffee someone's going to have to put me down."
The spiked hair girl snorted, her gaze on Jean, a crooked smile on her face. Jean was scowling at Storm and Ororo got the distinct impression that Jean was probably waited on a lot.
Ignoring Jean's dark scowl Ororo poured her coffee. "I don't think we've met," she said, approaching the pierced young woman.
"No. Name's Ali."
"Storm." Ororo took the seat next to her, reaching for an orange. She took a sip from her steaming mug. It was a tad weak for her liking, but good enough. She nearly spilled the hot liquid all over her lap when a younger girl with brown hair and honey eyes materialized through the floor, dropping down into one of the empty chairs.
"Morning!" The girl said, her voice light and chipper. "Hey, you're the new girl!"
"Her name's Storm," Ali said around a mouthful of apple.
"Nice, Dazzler." Jean said with an upturned nose. In response Ali opened her mouth wider, wiggling the half chewed fruit around with her tongue. Jean looked away with a grimace.
"Alison." Cyclops warned.
Ali closed her mouth, opening her magazine and strategically placing it in front of her face so as to not have to look at anyone else.
"Storm's a neat name," Kitty was saying. "I'm Kitty Pryde." She smiled at Ororo.
"You know, Kitty, we have doors." Jean said. She gestured to her empty cup and Cyclops rose to get her some more juice. "It's just plain rude not to use them." Jean continued.
"I know." Kitty looked down at the table. A slight flush crept up her neck.
"Why bother," Ororo said. "I mean I sure as heck wouldn't waste time with doors if I could walk through walls. The whole point of this school is to use our powers without the stigma placed on us from the outside world. So I say if you can walk through walls then walk through walls and like it." She gave Kitty a wink, feeling suddenly protective of the younger girl. Kitty beamed.
"You won't say that when she walks through your bedroom in the middle of the night." Jean replied.
"Hey! That only happened once!" Kitty defended.
Ororo didn't respond. Over the past couple of weeks she had gotten the distinct impression that Marvel girl liked to have the last word, and since she just didn't care all that much about this particular conversation, she may as well let her have it. Instead, Ororo pushed against the skin of her orange with her fingernail. Tough little bugger.
The small group of them sat in silence, the sound of crunching bran flakes the only noise to be heard until the outside kitchen door flung open and Wolverine strode in. Immediately Jean straightened away from Scott and Kitty tried to sink lower in her chair. He gave them all his usually predatory stare, his dark eyes fierce.
Entering the kitchen Logan found his gaze immediately drawn to Ororo. She had crossed his mind a dozen times last night after he had seen her back from her walk.
She was seated in one of the high-backed chairs surrounding the kitchen table, her head bent forward as though she was concentrating on something. He took in her appearance at a glance, blue shredded tank top, dark jeans, plain white canvas sneakers. Her hair hung loose, obscuring most of her face from his view, but he knew she was aware of his presence. He could tell by her slight shift in body position. It was almost instinctive on her part, he noted. She constantly seemed on guard.
Ororo, sensing being scrutinized, glanced up and noticed that Wolverine was looking straight at her. She inclined her head in greeting but said nothing, still working on her orange.
"Morning, Wolverine." Jean walked to him. He grunted down at her. She kissed him, her tongue clearly visible in the exchange and Ororo almost laughed. The other woman was obviously trying to make it clear that this was her man. Cyclops dropped his spoon into his ceramic bowl with a clang.
"Don't you have somewhere else you could take that?" he said darkly. "Some of us are trying to eat."
Jean broke away, slightly flushed. She hadn't meant to hurt Scott, she genuinely liked him, but when she had noticed Wolverine giving Storm the once over she wanted to make it clear who belonged to whom.
"Relax, Scooter." Wolverine growled at Scott, his gaze glittering.
Scott stood up. "I'm team leader and I say no making out in the kitchen."
The argument was ridiculous and Ororo was curious as to how Wolverine would respond. He simply turned his back on Scott, kissing Jean again. His broad back muscles flexed beneath his tight black shirt.
"Are you listening to me?" Scott demanded, shoving Wolverine in the shoulder from behind.
Wolverine let out a low growl, whirling with a -SNIKT-, the tips of three adamantium blades less than an inch from Cyclops's chin. "Don't touch me, Bub," Wolverine snarled. Jean reached for him but his lips curled back revealing his fangs. A growl rumbling from his throat, causing her to fall back.
The room became deadly silent, tension and fear thick in the air. Ororo stood up, placing her hand on Wolverine's arm saying lightly, "Thank goodness, I thought I'd be all day getting this damn thing peeled." She stuck her orange right on one of his extended claws.
Wolverine looked at her like she had just gone insane. His lips still curled back baring his fangs, rumbling in his throat. Didn't she realize how dangerous he was? Ororo stared at him without flinching and he saw it in her eyes, yes she did know, and she was taking a calculated risk, drawing his attention from Cyclops to her. Brave girl. Once again he found himself impressed by her.
He took a step away from Cyclops, retracting his claws, sending the orange to the floor with a thump. Cyclops, shaken, strode from the room, slamming the door as he went.
"Jesus, Wolverine. There was no need for that!" Jean exclaimed, racing after Scott.
"Remind me not to talk to you until you've had your morning coffee." Ororo said teasingly, taking her seat again.
"If you'll all excuse me I think I need to change my underwear." Kitty stood up, walking through the nearest wall, anxious to get away.
Alison gave Storm a smile of approval before folding her magazine and leaving as well.
"You sure know how to clear a room," Ororo muttered. She had hoped not to be alone with him. Walking in the woods while he was at a distance, she was ok with, but up close where she could see his steel gray eyes, his artlessly curved lips, the blue on black highlights in his hair. She found herself drawn to him and it was a decidedly uncomfortable feeling for her.
Logan took the seat right next to her, turning it so he was straddling it, gazing at her with his predatory eyes. He could hear her heart racing, her breathing becoming a little quicker. He reached down, picking up her orange. He held it out to her.
"Thanks." She snatched it from his hand, looking at the back where his claws had exploded from. "Neat trick," she said.
-Snikt- He once again extended three blades, slowly this time so not to frighten her. Without thought Ororo reached out, tracing the blades from tip to base, along the back of his hand and along his forearm. Wolverine's eyes darkened at her touch. No one had ever touched him like this, with a mixture of respect and reverence. He felt his blood pounding in his head.
"See you around." Ororo said suddenly. She started to rise, but he reached out, his large hand encircling her wrist. "What's the rush?" Her pulse beat like mad beneath his thumb. He sniffed the air. She was nervous, he could tell. It seemed strange that she could face him down in confrontation but tensed when they were alone…
Running with a theory he stroked his thumb across the tender skin on the inside of her wrist. He heard her breath catch and she yanked her hand away. "I don't like to be touched," she said, stepping back.
Wolverine grinned wolfishly. "Oh, but I think you do," he said huskily, his eyes knowing. Ororo said nothing, simply grabbed her coffee mug off the table. He watched her walk away with lazy appreciation for the way her hips swayed. As soon as she was gone Wolverine lost his smile. He'd better keep his distance from her, he thought. She was too much temptation and he couldn't afford to get involved.
Afternoon
Back Lawn
Ororo hit the ground hard, her elbows jarring against the terrain. The mutant she had her legs wrapped around bellowed, and she tightened her thighs. "Uncle! Uncle!" he cried. Ororo gave another hard squeeze before she unlocked her ankles, releasing Bobby Drake from her hold.
"Good, Storm." Came Cyclops's encouraging voice.
She and a some of the other X-Men were behind the institute doing some basic grappling exercises. Shortly after breakfast she had found a package outside her bedroom door labeled: Uniform. She had grimaced when she opened it, revealing a garment of tight black leathery spandex with yellow trim. "Costumes," she had said scrunching her nose. "Nifty." Also in the box had today's schedule. She would be training most of the day, which suited her fine. She was in no mood to deal with Xavier. He had been hovering around a lot the past few days.
"Yeah, good," Bobby was muttering, rubbing his throbbing knees. The chick had friggin' figure-foured him!
"Thanks," she said, taking the bottle of water Cyclops was holding out for her.
"Okay, Kitty and Rhane, you're up!" he commanded. The two girls stepped forward, one with brown hair and honey eyes, the other covered in rust colored fur. At Cyclops's whistle they began circling one another.
"Where'd you learn a takedown like that?" he asked after a moment.
"A friend." She squirted a stream of water into her mouth. Storm was going to ask him about the Danger Room schedule when she noticed Cyclops get ramrod straight, his jaw clenched and hands fisted at his side.
Glancing across the yard she spotted Wolverine and Jean Grey locked in a heated embrace. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and his hands were cupping her rear.
"Your girl?" She asked mildly.
"Apparently not."
"But you want her to be."
Cyclops looked down at her. "That obvious?"
"Uh, yeah." She gave him a look.
"We were on our way to being a couple, but then he showed up." He flicked his thumb in the direction of the oblivious couple. Now laying on the grass, still locked together.
Ororo shook her head. "Don't blame him. If you really want her, her being with another man shouldn't stand in your way. Besides, you'll never get a girl like her to appreciate you by being her beck and call boy." She took another drink of water, watching the two girls scrambling in front of her as opposed to the two writhing forms across the field.
"Excuse me?" Cyclops didn't appear amused by her terminology.
"I saw you at breakfast." Storm said. "Getting her juice, buttering her toast. She has you wrapped around her little finger. You want Marvel Girl to notice you, then stop being around so much. She needs to realize you're your own man. Because obviously that is what she wants, Cyclops. A man."
"What she's got is an animal," he countered.
Ororo didn't reply. There was no point. Cyclops had his mind made up about Wolverine and that was that. She finished off her water. "I'm going to hit the showers," she said after a minute.
"All right. Good job today." Scott replied, still staring across the field. Why he tortured himself like this he would never know, but he always seemed to be watching them together. He flicked his gaze to Storm's receding form and wondered if she were right. Then as she removed her black jacket revealing the tight black top of their uniform, he wondered if he should be keeping his options open.
Cyclops gave himself a mental shake. Storm was beyond attractive, but there was something about her that unsettled him, much the way Wolverine did. Whenever either of them was around he got the impression of barely concealed power, of careful control. Although Wolverine tended to lose that more and more frequently, Scott knew that Wolverine exerted control over himself more often than not, and he grudgingly respected the guy for it.
With Storm it was almost like she held herself in check. He wondered if she ever lost her cool, thinking of the events in the kitchen earlier. He doubted it. She was too much like ice. No, he liked his women warm and loving, not icy and reserved. He wanted Jean and no one else.
Ororo glanced over her shoulder as she topped the small hill heading back to the institute. They were still there, Jean leaning over Wolverine as he lay in the grass. She hated the feeling watching them together brought out in her. It wasn't jealousy, although she found Logan alarmingly attractive, but instead it was envy. Ororo had spent her life on the run, never tied to one place for very long. She had only ever been close with one other person and she'd had to leave him to protect him from the danger that followed her. Xavier had promised her that he would help her, but so far all he seemed concerned with was her performance as an X-Man. Ororo was beginning to feel the familiar desire to be free, to be on her own. Turning away from the scene below she made her way into the Institute, her heart heavy with two different kinds of longing.
Early Afternoon
The sun was high in the sky, heat radiating from the yellow orb relentlessly. Ororo was lounging against the bark of a particularly shady tree, reading and watching the students passing her by. She had some down time between training sessions and was trying, albeit unsuccessfully, to relax. She closed her eyes with a heavy sigh, her mind wandering to earlier days when she hadn't felt the weight of the world on her shoulders.
"You won't make friends sitting over here all by your lonesome."
Ororo stiffened at the mild voice of Charles Xavier. Not wanting to, but knowing the obstinate man wasn't going to leave, she opened her eyes slowly, "I'm not here to make friends."
"Perhaps not. However," Xavier said calmly, "I sense a growing fondness in you."
Ororo rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the heads up, Yoda, I'll be sure to squash that."
"Attachments can be a fundamental part of survival, Storm. I would not dismiss them so easily."
Ororo didn't respond.
"I think you can find the purpose you are looking for here, Storm." Again she didn't respond, instead running her hands back and forth over the grass, letting the blades tickle her skin.
"I know that it was a difficult decision for you to join our cause, but I assure you it is a dream worth fighting for."
"Let's not confuse things, Charles. You and I both know why I'm here and it's not to fight for some idealized dream of human and mutant peace. You said you would help me in exchange for my membership in club X-Men and I expect you to hold up your end of the bargain."
Xavier frowned down at her from his chair. "I expect the same of you, Storm. Cooperation is important, and that includes becoming an active member of the team. Make friends. I already sense a protectiveness for our Shadowcat, and a liking for Dazzler from you. Why avoid your fellow X-Men?"
She noticed he hadn't mentioned Wolverine and that was a relief. She tried very hard to keep her feeling s for him repressed even from herself. So, she found him attractive, who wouldn't. The man was unbelievably sexy, the danger radiating off of him almost palpable, so what? So what if he was the only man who had ever made her heart skip a beat, made her breathing feel difficult? So what if thoughts of him kept her up at night? So what. Right? He belonged to someone else, and even if he didn't she couldn't…
Ororo pushed her sunglasses up to the top of her head, fixing Charles with an icy glare. "You know why I don't want to get close to anyone."
He nodded solemnly. "Have you been able to sleep?" He asked after a moment, changing the subject.
"Not really." She finally said.
"The neural inhibitors are not helping?" Charles questioned, brow creased.
Ororo shook her head. "They work fine. Different kind of nightmares," was the only explanation she provided, "and don't go prying," she warned lightly.
"I would not presume to." He held his hands up.
"Uh-huh. I don't think there are many things you wouldn't do to get your way, Xavier." Ororo rose to her feet, picking up her previously discarded book. "Like I said, I will only be manipulated so far."
"Storm, you owe me." He said stiffly. "Do you remember how I found you? The condition you were in."
Her teeth snapped together with an audible click. "Yes."
"Good. Now, go make friends."
Ororo glared at him. "Do not push me." She strode away, but he had felt her resolve weaken slightly at the mention of her sorry condition a few months ago. She was still resisting his subtle nudges, still wary of him and everyone else. He frowned after her thoughtfully. Time to call in a favor.
Evening
Rec Room
Ororo strolled into the game room, her blue eyes resting on the green felt covered pool table. She could use a round or two. Word of the kitchen confrontation had spread quickly, and now people were even more curious about her. Her day had been filled with people watching her guardedly, whispering behind her back. One of the more bold X-Men, a young man named Warren with the face of an angel, and the body to match-literally, had come right out and bowed in front of her in that cheesy 'Wayne's World' not worthy way.
Then there had been Xavier with his speech on being a member of the team. Ororo sighed with a mild grimace at the memory.
Currently a blue furry mutant, she recognized as Nightcrawler, was bent over the table, making a difficult trick shot with remarkable ease. When he stood again she watched his eyes stray over to where Kitty was playing ping pong with Bobby, a look of longing on his face. A crush?
"Nice shot." She said approaching the table.
Nightcrawler looked around, and over his shoulder. "Are you speaking to me?" he asked surprised. His voice was gently accented German she noted.
With a nod Ororo confirmed that she was indeed speaking to him. "You've got some skill I see." She tilted her head towards the table, referring to the shot he just made.
"A bit." His glowing yellow gaze gave her a brief once over and his mouth thinned. He turned back to the table.
"What?" she asked, noticing his subtle disproval.
"It is not my place," he said, lining up another shot.
"Well, I am making it your place. What's on your mind, Crawler?"
"Why do you wear such things?" he asked after another long pause, looking pointedly at her shirt.
Ororo glanced down. She was wearing black capri pants with a long sleeved white shirt that had: Mutie! splattered across it in crimson red. She looked back up at Nightcrawler saying, "It's just a word."
Nightcrawler looked away again. "It is a hateful word, that causes much pain."
"If you let it." Ororo said, leaning against the edge of the pool table. She got the impression he didn't open up much, and she found she wanted to help ease some of the hurt she saw in his golden gaze.
"I was abandoned at birth because of the way I looked. Because of my demonic appearance. From as far back as I can remember I have had to hide my face in shame, stay in the shadows." Nightcrawler said, almost angry. "It's easy for people like you. You are beautiful and you feel you can mock us. It is not right, or fair."
Ororo felt a slight twinge at his words, her own ire pricked. "I am not mocking you, Nightcrawler. Life's not fair or easy, trust me I know. Nevertheless as cliché as it sounds, it is what you make it; and I for one refuse to let them beat me down with their hateful words. If ignorant racists want to call me a mutie, let them, I am one. I wear this shirt because I am proud of that, Nightcrawler. It is who I am. Do not think you are the only one who has felt the pain of harsh words. If I wasn't called mutie, I was called nigger. Life sucks sometimes. It just does. That's what makes the good things in it so great. The hardships we overcome help shape who we are. When you can rise above their petty words and foul turn of phrases and know yourself, and more importantly-like yourself, without the need of their approval, then you can throw their words right back at them."
Nightcrawler was very quite, and Ororo felt herself blush a little. She hadn't meant to go on a tirade, but she hated self pity, thinking it a giant waste of time and energy.
"An interesting point of view, liebling. Have you reached that lofty plateau of self understanding and like?"
"No." She said honestly. "But I'm working on it."
Nightcrawler smiled at that. He pulled another sick from the rack on the wall, tossing it to her with a flick of his pointed tail. "Do you play?"
Ororo smiled back, knowing she had just found another mutant to take under her wing. First Kitty, now Crawler, Ororo thought a little amused at her instant like to both of them. Xavier was right, loathe as she was to admit it, she was developing a fondness for these people. "Yes, though not as well as you. Maybe you could teach me a few shots, Nightcrawler," she suggested.
"With pleasure. You may call me Kurt."
"Kurt. I like it." She rubbed blue chalk over the tip of her stick. "Oh, and, Kurt," she began nonchalantly.
"Yes?"
"Whatever idiots told you that you looked like a demon were out of their minds." She reached out, pressing one hand to his furry cheek. "You are beautiful." And he was, she thought, with his silken blue fur and muscular build, mysterious glowing eyes and his dark blue hair falling over his forehead in boyish charm. He radiated sincerity and strength.
Kurt looked thunderstruck. No one had ever told him that, no one had ever touched him with such care. There was no disgust in her eyes, no unease at all. Instead, he could see deep concern in her blue gaze, and the offer of friendship She was unique, he mused, so unlike some of the others here who made him feel out of place, unwanted and ashamed, even though they were supposed to be fighting for the same dream.
"You're fur is the softest thing I have ever felt," she said slightly louder than necessary.
Several heads turned in their direction, including Kitty's, noticing Storm's hand caressing Nightcrawler's cheek, her fingers brushing his chin. Catching her eye, Storm said, "Come here, Kitty. You have got to feel this."
The younger woman put her paddle down, walking towards them. Nightcrawler looked dreadful uncertain, but Ororo held his face in her hands, smiling a devilish smile. "You can thank me later," she whispered.
"Hey guys." Kitty said, stepping alongside them. She flashed Kurt a quick smile, and gave Storm an uneasy look. Having witnessed her stand up to Wolverine in the kitchen, Kitty was a bit intimidated by the other mutant. Not to mention that she was drop-dead friggin' gorgeous, which all on its own was intimidation enough. Kitty'd had more than one run in with the beautiful and pampered Marvel Girl, not liking the way she had felt afterwards: Meek and inadequate, and Storm made Jean look like a daisy compared to wild orchids, or some other exotic flower, Kitty thought.
"Feel." Ororo grabbed Kitty's hand, placing it against Kurt's startled face.
At first surprised, Kitty almost jerked away, but then realized how soft his fur actually was. "It's like chinchilla!" she said in hushed awe.
Stepping away Ororo gave Kurt a conspiratal wink, and she swore he blushed beneath his fur. Smiling and humming Ororo made her shot. When it became obvious Kurt was too engaged with Kitty to further participate in their game, Ororo sunk the rest of the balls in rapid succession, pleased with her role as cupid.
Rec Room
11 p.m.
"You make friends fast."
Ororo straightened away from the pool table, turning towards Jean Grey. They were alone in the rec room, most of the other students having gone to bed hours ago.
"You're the second person today to comment on my friend making skills." Ororo said blandly.
"Yeah, I saw you with the Professor earlier. And I see the way hang on him, needing his attention, and now that fuzzy mutant kid. What's the matter, Storm. Can't decide if you like 'em old or freakish?"
"Is there a point to this delightful visit, Marvel Girl?"
"You're new, so I'll spell it out for you. I rule this school."
Ororo chuckled. "Is that it? Well, glad we got that straightened out."
"You think I'm joking?"
"No, sadly I think you are very serious."
"Let me make some things perfectly clear. Wolverine is mine. Scott is mine. Stay away from them."
Ororo laid the stick on top of the table, crossing her arms over her chest. "Relax, Jean, I don't want your men."
"Like you stand a chance. I just don't want to witness your embarrassment. I'm trying to help you, Storm. You will never be welcome here, and if you think you can fuck your way to acceptance you are sadly mistaken."
Ororo took a sharp breath. This was getting damn annoying. She had tolerated the glares across the room. She had put up with the haughty glances. She had even tried to ignore the way Jean treaded all over the other students, especially the mutants not fortunate enough to pass for normal. But the girl was wearing her last nerve. "Look. I understand that you're Queen of Mutant Central and the perfect little cheerleader for the X-team. That's great. Just ducky. I don't want your role, so back off, pom-pom."
Jean smirked. "So long as you know your place, we'll get along fine."
"Know my place?" Her voice was whisper soft. "In about two seconds my place is going to be wringing your spoiled little neck."
Jean took a step back. "I'm a telepath. A powerful one! I could give you nightmares that would drive you right out of your head." She threatened.
Ororo felt a faint brush in her mind, like a spider web against skin. She smiled acid sweet, leaning towards the petit redhead, her eyes clouding white. "You wouldn't be the first."
"Is there a problem here?" Dark, menacing growl.
"Wolverine!" Jean cried, relieved. "I was just giving our newest teammate some advice that will help her make her stay with us as pleasant as possible." She cast Ororo a look that dared her to say different.
Wolverine materialized from the shadows in the doorway and arched one black brow at Storm.
Ororo didn't respond, she hated this childish crap. Hated the way she felt right now. She just wanted to get away. She needed to get away. Wolverine caught her arm, his glittering black eyes holding hers. She shook him off, saying, "Goodnight."
Once Ororo had left the rec room Wolverine glowered at Jean, who was slinking her arms around his neck. "What?" she asked innocently.
Wolverine removed her arms.
"Aw, come on, Wolverine!" Jean cried petulantly. "Let's not let her ruin our night."
"She ain't ruining nothing', kid. Yer doing that all on yer own. You seem to forget how good my hearin' is."
"So I get a bit carried away. It's only because I love you so much. Did you hear what people were saying today? They say she tamed the Wolverine. I couldn't let that stand." She trailed her fingers over his arm, along his shoulder.
"I ain't been tamed. Not by her and not by you, so stop trying, Red," he growled pushing her away from him.
"Look, she needed to know the score."
"And what score is that?"
"That you belong to me," Jean said, instantly regretting the words leaving her mouth as he narrowed his eyes.
"I belong to no one, Jean. I am my own man."
Jean laughed scathingly. "Man? Who're you kidding Wolverine. You damn near took Scott's head off this morning, all snarling and shit. You're pure animal. That's what you are. A fucking animal!"
"What in the world is going on in here?"
"Oh, Scott!" Jean flew across the room, throwing herself into his arms, sobbing prettily. "Make him go away," she sniffled.
Scott's hand rose to his visor. "We going to have a problem?"
Wolverine grinned. Since the onset of their relationship Wolverine had stayed with Jean for one reason and one reason only. It irritated the shit out of Scooter.
Not that she wasn't attractive, because she was. Slender and feminine she radiated youth and he had been attracted to that. But she was far too emotionally high strung. Her rants and tantrums wearing on him, on top of her thinly veiled threats to leave him for Scott. He knew she was using him the same way he was using her. No love between them, just the occasional bout of mediocre sex.
"No problem at all, Cyke. She's all yours."
"Wolverine! Get back here!" Despite having demanded Scott make him leave, it was Jean who called out for him.
Wolverine kept walking.
Xavier's Office
"That is the offer as it stands." Charles said into the phone. "Yes, I can agree to those terms. Tomorrow is fine. See you then." He replaced the receiver into the cradle before wheeling himself to the window. He looked across the courtyard, his mind seeking out Storm. Ah, there she was. He opened his mind further, picking up the remnants of her anger, a confrontation with Jean.
Xavier smiled slightly. Tough as nails, that one. He hoped his newly acquired employee would be enough of a reason for Ororo to stay with the team. Two weeks of negotiations, but the deal had finally been made.
He couldn't afford to lose her. Not when so much depended on her. If this didn't work he may have to resort to more extreme measures.
The Garage
2 a.m.
Ororo ran her hand along the sleek red paint of the Shelby GT. Muscle. Power. She smiled, practically purring. She loved automobiles, and they loved her. She had come here unable to sleep, her confrontation with Jean and a multitude of other things keeping her awake. She was desperately needing to unwind.
Just as she had suspected on her first day, the garage was full of gorgeous, expensive cars. She moved along the row of vehicles, her gaze appreciative of the beauties in front of her. As she moved closer to the rear of the garage she noticed a black tarp in the corner. Her mouth quirked up. Whoever the motorcycle belonged to may as well have painted a big sign along the side saying: Don't Touch! Unable to resist, she grabbed the soft material, yanking it off, the fabric billowing in the air behind her.
"Oh my," she breathed. The bike was gorgeous. Black and chrome, it's body muscular and sleek at the same time. No vroom-vroom crotch rocket, or some bulky hunk of machinery, but instead a steel animal. Ferocious and wild. Instantly she knew who the bike belonged to.
Ororo grabbed the handle bars, swinging her leg over the seat, loving the way the worn leather felt. She shifted her body against the seat, getting a feel for it.
From the shadows Wolverine made a soft sound half growl, half groan. He had been watching her for several minutes now, surprised that she hadn't noticed his presence as she usually did. She had instead been infatuated with the cars, her slender fingers trailing along their bodies almost lovingly, reminding him of the way her fingers had caressed his arm. She shifted again, the hem of her long, diaphanous, white nightdress riding up her thighs. Another growl built in his chest.
Wolverine moved silently across the garage, swift and sure, until he was directly behind her. She was leaning back, her eyes closed, arms extended out in front of her, and he took the opportunity to gaze at her face unguarded. Smooth skin, dark lashes casting shadows on gently rounded cheeks, straight nose, and the fullest, most delectable mouth he had ever laid eyes upon. So much for staying away from her, he thought, not without some humor. He could no more prevent his being drawn to her than he could prevent the sunrise.
She stiffened suddenly and he knew she had finally sensed him. Without turning Ororo said, "You're a sneaky devil, aren't you?"
Wolverine chuckled. "The same could be said for you, darlin'." He moved so that he was standing in front of her. He had changed from the last time she had seen him from his black tee and pants into a faded denim jacket over a white shirt, well worn jeans and a cowboy hat, looking unbearably sexy. Ororo smiled at the hat. She hadn't pegged him as the cowboy hat wearing type.
She swung herself off his bike. "Sorry." She said.
"Yer up late."
"Early."
"Whatever."
"I don't sleep much," she confessed.
Wolverine nodded, thinking of the nightmares that plagued him. Surprising himself Logan said, "Wanna go fer a ride?"
No.No.No.No.No. "Yes."
Wolverine gave her a wolfish smile. He pulled off his jacket handing it to her.
"No thanks."
"It's a chilly night."
"I don't get cold." She shrugged. "Part of my gift-- built in thermo stasis."
Wolverine couldn't resist, he leaned a little closer, his white teeth gleaming in the dark. "How about hot, 'Ro? Do you ever get hot?"
Ororo swallowed hard. Good heavens the man was sexy. She didn't reply, she couldn't, her heart was hammering too hard to hear herself think. Wolverine must have sensed that she wasn't going to respond because he chuckled under his breath, mounting the motorcycle.
"Hop on."