Sunshine was pouring through the semi-open skylight and her sheer white curtains danced playfully in the warm afternoon breeze. Ororo blinked several times, trying to focus her blurry eyes. She was still very groggy, even though she'd slept a large part of the past forty-eight hours away. Xavier had commanded her to rest and she had not bothered to argue, too drained from Jean's attack and the removal and reinsertion of her neural inhibitors. She touched her forehead, groaning. She had a killer migraine. Trying not to jostle herself too much Ororo scooted herself back against her stack of pillows, her elbow rubbing against a warm body.
Ororo turned with a welcome smile for who she assumed to be Gambit only to have it freeze on her face. Wolverine lay next to her, bare chested, clad only in dark pants, revealing his well muscled abdomen and the hair covered broad expanse of his chest, one well muscled arm lay across his head, his sullen mouth parted in sleep. What the hell?
Sensing her eyes on him Wolverine opened one dark eye. "Hey."
Ororo just stared.
Logan sat up. "I bet you're wondering what I'm doing here?"
She nodded slowly so as not to induce another stab of pain through her temples.
"I know Chuck said ya weren't ta be disturbed, but I needed ta see ya, 'Ro. I needed ta make sure you were all right. Yer developing a real knack fer scaring the shit outta me, y'know." He explained, propping himself beside her. "I needed ta be near ya." His voice lowered and the husky rumble sent shivers along her spine, he sounded almost confused by his need to be by her.
"So you broke into my room?" Her voice was hoarse.
He shrugged. "Seemed like a good idea at the time." He slipped from the bed, easy enough to do considering he was on top of the covers, and went to her bathroom. She watched him walk, noticing how fluid he moved. That was a man very comfortable in his own skin. He came back with a small Dixie cup filled with tap water. "Here."
Ororo took the small cup gratefully, swallowing carefully. Her throat was sore, like she had a cold. Or screamed herself numb…Ororo's brow furrowed.
"'Roro?"
She looked down at the bedding, not wanting to look at him. Logan. Sharp pain in her head. Ororo grimaced, her breath hissing from clenched teeth.
"Are you all right?" He was at her side in an instant, his hands cradling her face, concern on his, forcing her to look at him.
Ororo winced at the sight of the man who held her heart, because it meant she had to remember everything that had transpired between them, how he had hurt her, the horrible memories of him kissing, holding, touching Jean, her guilt over attacking a pregnant woman, the lingering guilt over her mother's death, and that was then the killing blow--him comforting that witch… Angry tears fill her eyes. She blinked them back, allowing them to evaporate under the heat of her anger. "I'm fine." She pushed his hands away.
He stepped away from her, crossing his arms over his chest. "Ya don't have ta lie ta me, 'Ro."
Ororo ground her teeth, not liking the way it made her feel to hear him say that name.
"I'm willin' ta listen if ya want ta talk. What the hell happened the other day?"
"Go ask your girlfriend, I'm sure she'll fill you in."
"I've already talked ta Jeannie and she claims ya attacked her unprovoked." He shook his head. "I'm interested ta know what would make ya attack a pregnant woman, Storm."
Ororo snorted, standing quickly. Far too quickly and the room spun, her legs giving way. Logan was there instantly, his arms wrapping around her, holding her up against him. Her hands grasping his bare shoulders, her eyes trapped by his. The thin cotton of her nightdress provided little barrier between her breasts and the hard wall of his chest. She could feel the heat radiating from him through the material into her skin, and it made her bite her lip.
Logan ran his thumb across her trapped lower lip, his eyes darkening from steel gray to deep midnight. His breathing became raspier, and his arms tightened involuntarily, pulling her closer. "'Ro…" He whispered her name as his mouth descended onto hers.
She tried to pull away but he held fast, capturing her lips, his mouth hot and demanding, moist and intoxicating. Ororo's nails dug into his skin and Logan groaned, his tongue pushing past teeth, drinking from her. He molded her to him, one hand cupping her firm backside, lifting her slightly into his bulge. It was always like this with her, all other thought vacated his brain, and he was instantly hard, constantly aroused, his blood pure fire pounding in his head, his inner animal screaming to possess her. Claim her. Mate with her.
Ororo's eyes closed, his hot mouth moving from her lips to her neck, teeth grazing her skin directly over her leaping pulse, followed by the stroke of his tongue. A soft moan traveled from her throat to his ears and Logan growled. His teeth nipped her earlobe, his breath panting in her ear. "God, 'Ro," he groaned, slowly lowering her to the bed, following, his body in constant contact with hers. "I'm sorry," he rasped.
She didn't want to feel this, she thought, even as her hips arched off the bed into his. He was pushing her legs apart, his hand sliding under the hem of her nightdress, stroking her thighs. His mouth was on hers again, moving over her top lip, tugging on her full lower lip, the very tip of his tongue tracing intricate patterns. One hand moved to tangle in her silken tresses, the other moved to cup her ass. Ororo cried out, instinctively trying to pull away, but he murmured against her lips, low, soothing sounds. He kissed her eyes, her nose, burying his face in the space between her shoulder and neck.
"I only wanna touch ya 'Ro." He moved his hand, caressing her back. "…Just feel, darlin'."
Ororo gripped the pillows behind her head, unable to vocalize anything more than pleasured gasps. "Just feel," he whispered again and Ororo held back a sob. Did he know the things he was making her feel? The terrible ache in her heart from loving him? She wanted to pull away, make him leave, but her traitorous body betrayed her, lifting into him, moving against him in silent petition.
"That's it, darlin'. Yer so sweet, " he murmured against her lips. "So hot," he slid his tongue inside her mouth and Ororo struggled for breath. "Ahh, ya feel so good, babe."
So enraptured with her he didn't hear the footfalls on the stairs, the door knob jiggling and not even the door banging open, all he could hear was the pounding in his ears and her gasps of pleasure.
"Get your 'ands off my sister!"
"Gambit!" Ororo jerked upright, wincing as pain shot through her temples, making her see stars.
Wolverine looked over his shoulder into the glaring red on black eyes of a very angry Cajun.
"Dis is where you spent da night?" he demanded.
Wolverine sat up, shielding Storm from Gambit's view as she tugged her nightdress down. "Where I spend the night is none of yer damn business," he said.
"If yer trying ta fuck my Stormy den it most certainly is my business." Gambit responded angrily, he walked into the room, carrying a breakfast tray, setting it down on her bureau.
"I don't see how," Wolverine snarled, watching the other man with narrowed eyes.
Gambit lifted the fork from the tray, it glowed brightly. "You want I should take out da trash, Stormy?"
"You threatenin' me, Gumbo?" -SNIKT- Three claws shot out.
"Step away from da bed, homme, and find out."
"Enough, both of you." Storm stood, slowly this time. "Gambit, Wolverine was just leaving."
"No I wasn't."
Ororo gave him an angry look. "Yes, you were."
"Besides, don't you 'ave another girl ta be fondling?" Gambit added, deceptively mild. "Aren't you supposed ta be fallin' all over Jean right now? I'm sure she misses da attention."
Wolverine shook his head. "I'm there for the kid, not Jean. There's a difference." He was growling now, shoulders hunched, ready to strike.
Ororo tensed, hating herself for the flare of jealousy she felt. Gambit was right, however, Wolverine had no place here. She gave them both icy looks. "Get out, both of you. Take your little song and dance soap opera out of my room. Now." Her cell phone was ringing.
She picked it up off the nightstand and unwittingly a smile graced her face as she recognized the number. Shinobi. She held up a hand to silence them and answered, "Hello?" A pause. "No, I'm fine. That's sweet." Another pause. "Breakfast sounds lovely. All right. Twenty minutes. Bye."
"But, Stormy, I brought breakfast." Gambit said with a frown as she hung up.
"No thanks, Gambit." Ororo moved towards the bathroom. "By the time I am showered and changed I expect both of you to be gone." She called over her shoulder. "And no fighting."
"Well, where's da fun in dat?" Gambit muttered. Once the bathroom door was shut he looked at Wolverine. "Bioque." Gambit spat.
"What was that?" Wolverine's lip curled.
"I called you an idiot." Gambit said. "Trying to knock up two women?"
Wolverine's head snapped up. "Leave it alone."
"You should take your own advice."
In the shower it wasn't thoughts of Wolverine that plagued her, Ororo was surprised to realize, but thoughts of her impending breakfast with Shinobi Shaw. He was confusing her, she thought sliding the shower door shut. From everything the Professor had on him, Storm had learned that Shinobi Shaw was a ruthless man, with a strong and varied sexual appetite, but he always stopped when she wanted to. Her problem, she realized, was that the more they were together, the less she wanted to stop. She turned the knobs forcefully, stepping under the sharp spray, head hanging down. He was just a mark, she told herself. Just a mark.
Thirty-five minutes later
"The Shaw Charity Ball is coming up this weekend," Shinobi said, forking a small mound of scrambled eggs into his mouth. He was once again dressed casual, in tan khaki's and a dark green shirt, his hair tied back at the nape of his neck. They were eating at a small but cozy diner, a few miles away from the Institute, seated in a booth beside a large window.
Storm nodded, she knew of the event. Xavier was counting on Shinobi asking her to attend, as the Ball was at his mansion and would be the perfect night to perform her heist. "I had heard about it. I thought that the ball was your father's deal," she poured syrup over her pancakes.
Shinobi's eyes briefly narrowed. "My father finds himself otherwise occupied."
"I didn't mean to bring up a sore subject," she said softly.
He reached across the table, stroking her cheek. "It doesn't matter."
Storm chewed her food, waiting.
"Would you like to attend?"
"I'd love to." She was about to take another bite of her pancakes when she heard the familiar rumble of a motorcycle outside. She turned her head warily, watching as Wolverine pulled into the parking lot, his dark gaze fixed on her as he dismounted. He brushed one hand along the arm of his leather jacket, making his way to the entrance.
"Isn't that your bike?" Shinobi asked.
"Uh, no, it's his. I was just…borrowing it." She gave the bike a wistful look.
"Hm." Shinobi leaned back, his eyes on the door as Wolverine strode in. "I think he's looking for you." He commented.
"He knows where I am," Ororo murmured, taking another bite, ignoring the frission of awareness that traveled her body.
"Storm." Wolverine was beside their booth.
She looked up at him. He was too attractive for his own good, she thought, loving the way his hair stood all disheveled from the bike ride, and the stubble that grazed his stubborn jaw. Stubble that had tickled her throat earlier. She pushed that thought aside angrily. "Wolverine."
"We need to talk." His dark gaze was unreadable.
"I'm eating," she stated flatly.
"Could this wait?" Shinobi asked, an amused smile hovering on his lips.
Wolverine ignored him. "Now, Storm." He reached down, grabbing her arm, hauling her to her feet.
"That's not a very nice way to treat a lady," Shinobi stood.
"Butt out, Bub." Wolverine snarled at him. "This don't concern you."
"I think it does." Shinobi's normally smooth as silk voice hardened and Storm was surprised by the vehemence in his tone.
Wolverine cocked his head and Ororo knew he was contemplating planting his fist in Shinobi's face. "It's fine, Shinobi. Really. I'll be right back." She tugged her arm from Wolverine's grasp, marching out the front door.
Once outside she turned on him. "What are you doing here? I'm busy."
"How far ya planning on takin' this, 'Ro? How far ya gonna go with Shaw?" Wolverine demanded.
"What do you care? Damn it, Wolverine, I'm not some helpless little girl that needs you to protect her. I'm your leader, remember, not the other way around."
"Ya haven't answered my question." He crossed his arms.
Storm glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of Shinobi watching them through the window. She smiled at him, then turned back to Wolverine with a glare. "Mind your own business."
"You are my business."
"No. Jean is your business. I am your team mate."
Wolverine rumbled. "Don't fuckin' kid yerself, Storm."
She ran her hand through her hair in frustration. "I am not the one kidding myself. Go home, Wolverine. Go back to Jean."
He stepped forward. "I don't want Jean." His eyes were intense. "I want you."
"Well, you made your bed. Now lay in it." Storm turned away from him before she flung herself into his arms.
"Storm, don't push me away."
Her steps halted and she gave him a cold stare, pulling on her reserve of careful control. She couldn't let him know how badly she wanted him, how much she loved him. She was many things, but home wrecker was not one of them. "The moment you placed your claws to my neck you made a choice, Wolverine. I am willing to be your leader, your team mate and even your friend, but never anything more. You chose, remember that."
Wolverine growled irritably. "I was trying to protect my child, 'Ro. You were attacking a woman pregnant with my child."
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "I am sorry for that," she said at last. "Now, if you'll excuse me, my date is waiting."
"This ain't over," he called after her.
"Yes, it is." She whispered, opening the diner door.
Shinobi stood as she approached. "Everything all right?"
Storm glanced out the window. Wolverine was mounting his cycle, staring at her. "It could be better." She looked at Shinobi. "Kiss me."
Shinobi needed no further urging, stepping forward, cradling her face in his smooth palms and covering her mouth with his. Ororo opened her mouth, allowing him access, relaxing into his embrace. A part of her hated herself for this tactic, but another part of her enjoyed the way Shinobi made her feel wanted and treasured. She pulled back, smiling into his warm eyes.
"You think he got the message?" Shinobi asked quietly. He glanced out the window as Wolverine gunned the engine, gravel spitting from behind the rear tire of his bike.
Storm was startled, though she shouldn't have been. He was a very perceptive man. "I hope so," she said sincerely.
"Were you and he…?"
"No." Storm shook her head.
"But you wanted to be?"
Storm slid back into the booth. "He's a team mate. Nothing more."
Shinobi raised a dubious brow.
"Is that jealousy, Shinobi?" She asked at his frown. "It's not like you've had a sheltered life of limited experiences. I don't imagine you even spent last night alone," she teased.
Shinobi followed suit. "Fair enough. But I would give up all others for you. All you have to do is say the word."
Storm tilted her head. He seemed awfully serious about that. "Maybe I will," she smiled.
He covered her hand with his. "I hope you do."
Xavier Institute
"It's like a damn greenhouse in here," Alison commented pushing open Ororo's bedroom door, carrying yet another large potted plant. She set the leafy package onto the floor, giving a Storm a gentle smile, which was a comical contrast to her darkly painted eyes and spiked hair. "I'd say the man's smitten. Job well done."
Ororo glanced up from her seat on the end of her large bed, looking around her room at the lush and assorted flowers and plants Shinobi had been sending her for the past three days. All of them potted, uncut and beautiful. Without a word Ororo looked back at the book in her hands.
"Yep, a man in love," Alison continued doggedly. She pulled open the small envelope attached to the dark blue pot and read, "Ororo- I anxiously await our next meeting. Please, know that you are on my mind, and I am at your beck and call- Shinobi Shaw."
Still no response from Ororo and Alison quelled the desire to stomp her booted foot. "Look, lady, the Storm I know wouldn't be up in her room, sulking like some beaten dog because of some dumb bitch and a stupid man who can't see what's right under his nose."
This got Ororo's attention. "I killed their baby, Alison." Her voice was whisper soft.
Ororo recalled the unbelievably painful moment when Jean had come into the rec room a few nights ago night screaming that she had almost lost her baby because of the strain Storm had put on her. Immediately Ororo had apologized, but that hadn't been enough and Jean had telekinetically thrown several pool balls at her. Ororo had used her winds to deflect the balls and Jean screamed some more, becoming increasingly upset. Ororo had told her to go away and Jean had, and she immediately sought out Wolverine.
After a much heated conversation Jean had crumbled to the ground, claiming abdominal pains. Wolverine had immediately scooped her up and carried her to the med-lab, where a newly returned Hank had been. Jean had shooed Wolverine away, claiming that she could sense his anger and it was upsetting her.
After an hour Storm had gone down to the lab to check on him, and see how Jean was. Wolverine had been sullen and silent, barely glancing at her and she knew she was making things worse, so she had turned to leave, but Jean had emerged from the med-lab eyes red-rimmed, glaring at Ororo. "Happy now?" she'd cried. "Our baby is dead."
Storm was at a loss. Wolverine had said nothing, simply embraced a sobbing Jean. Ororo had left, her heart aching for his loss. She had tried to speak with him shortly after and winced at the recollection of their painful confrontation and a fresh wave of self-loathing washed over her. She had found him in the garage, packing one of the Institute's black SUV's. "You're leaving?" She'd asked.
"Yep." Slam! He moved around to the driver's side. "I need ta get away from everything."
"Logan… I am so--"
"Don't." He had growled. "I don't want ta hear it, Storm. Whatever yer gonna say, I don't wanna hear it."
"No," She had agreed, tears spilling from her eyes, creating silver ripples down her cheeks.
He had whirled on her, teeth bared, face contorted in anger. "Ya want ta know the sickest part of all this, Storm? The sickest shit of all? I fuckin' dreamt of you last night. Pregnant with my kid." He gripped the door handle, his knuckles white. "I can't be near ya now, Storm. I don't trust myself not ta hurt you. I'm takin' one of Xavier's solo assignments."
"Logan-"
"Wolverine." he snarled. "You will call me, Wolverine."
"I'm so sorry." She whispered brokenly.
"Go cry prettily for Shaw, Storm. I ain't interested."
He opened and slammed the driver's door, starting the SUV and backing away from her.
"I understand," she'd whispered, and she did, knowing he was lashing out in his pain. She had wanted to hold him, comfort him, tell him she loved him…but instead, she walked away, forcing herself not to look back, silently crying all the way into the mansion. She had fallen to her knees in her room, grieving for the little soul she had unwittingly taken.
Wolverine had yet to return. She knew eventually they would have to acknowledge each other, but she wasn't sure she could face him yet, knowing what she had done.
Ali sat down heavily on the bed beside Storm. "Storm, it was an accident. You didn't mean to-"
"Didn't I?" Ororo stood, pacing the floor, her bare feet silent on the hardwood. "I attacked a pregnant woman, Ali. No matter what the provocation I attacked her, and the cost of my mistake…is far too high."
"For crying out loud, Storm, she was what? A month along?"
"That doesn't matter, Alison. A life is a life."
"Ok, fine, but it doesn't mean you have to give up living. Look at you, Storm." Alison gave her unkempt appearance a once over. "You're a wreck. I know it hurts and as much as you may want to, you can't change it. You just try and move on."
Storm shook her head. "I don't know that I can."
"I wish ya would, padnat," Gambit said from the door. "Even if it's wit' a man like Shinobi Shaw."
Ororo turned, surprised, never expecting Gambit to promote any type of relationship with Shinobi. "My assignment is nearly over, Gambit. Tonight I get the documents, the artifacts and a lead on what Sebastian Shaw is up to. Mission accomplished."
"You do your job well, Stormy, as always. But after dis I t'ink dat maybe you should try and be jus' a woman wit' a man. If not Shaw, den someone else."
"I don't have it in me, Gambit."
"Yes, you do." He approached her slowly, his eyes faintly glowing with the intensity of what he was saying. "Der's no one stronger den you, padnat." He gripped her shoulders. "I want ta see you smile, chere. And da only time ya done dat lately is when you're wit' Shaw."
Ororo sighed. She had enjoyed Shinobi's companionship very much over the past weeks, and she knew she would be confusing him by simply stepping out of his life without explanation, but she didn't know what else to do. As it was she felt guilty for betraying him, even though she knew he was into some shady things and was capable of things she'd rather not know about. That part of him was known, but never seen. When they were together, however, he was always good to her, and always made her feel wanted. It was a feeling she had come to enjoy, possibly too much. "I am acting, Gambit."
Alison scoffed. "Not all of it's an act, Storm. I saw you look at him, you like him."
Ororo nodded. "Yes, I like Shinobi." But I love Wolverine, she thought but left it unsaid. Before any of them could continue Kitty's head phased up through the floor, held a loft by Colossus below.
"Hey, Storm, Hank wants to see you."
"All right." Storm said, thankful for the excuse not to continue their current conversation. She reached out her hand, grabbing Kitty's outstretched arm, allowing herself to be phased through the floor. Once in the kitchen she was greeted by Hank, who looked…uncomfortable. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes, I require a word in private, if you do not mind." He motioned towards the back door and Ororo followed.
"What can I do for you?" Storm asked, shielding her eyes from the sun.
"It is perhaps what I can do for you." He handed her a folder.
"What's this?" She asked.
"Confidential." He said, looking over his shoulder.
Ororo opened it. It was list of codes for medical files. "I can't see this, Hank." She snapped it shut.
Giving her a grave look Beast placed his furry paws on top of her hands. "Please, Storm. I wanted to say something sooner, but I have been unable to bring myself to fully accept my participation in these events."
Storm looked at him. "What are you trying to say?"
Hank shook his head. "As a doctor I am not saying anything. As a friend of one of the best thieves in the world I am saying I will be taking lunch away from the med-lab from noon to one."
Ororo looked at him confused.
"I only hope when this is all done you can forgive me."
"Hank?" But he was already walking away. Ororo opened the folder again, reading the highlighted name and code: Grey, Jean 0011 0100 100100 6.
Med-Lab
12:15 pm
"What are we doing down here?" Kitty asked, moving through one of the white tiled walls.
"I'm not entirely certain." Storm answered. "I need you to hack me into the medical database."
Kitty's mouth dropped. "No way."
"Way." Alison said, moving into the room as well. She pulled up one of the rolling stools, settling on it and spinning across the floor.
Kitty took the seat, studying the screen in front of her. "What am I looking for?" she asked, her slender fingers flying across the keypad.
Storm leaned over her shoulder, peering intently at the flickering blue screen. "Student records."
After only a few minutes Kitty exclaimed, "We're in."
"Wow, we really need to work on the security around this place," Storm said.
"Why? Any more late night visitors?" Ali asked with a wink, having heard about Shinobi's surprise picnic.
"Who's getting late night visitors?" Kitty asked.
"No one." Storm gave Ali a narrow look, but there was a subtle lift to her mouth. "Okay, here's a code I need you to put in." Ororo handed Kitty the file.
"Unh-uh," Kitty stood up. "I got you this far, the rest is up to you."
"Scardey-cat," Ali murmured.
"No, she's right." Storm took the seat Kitty had vacated, pushing her hair out of her way with one black gloved hand. Old habits, she thought, having donned her black pants and tight black tank with a pair of black leather gloves and heavy boots. It was a look she had imitated from Gambit growing up, and one that stuck when she was feeling dangerous.
She entered the code Hank had given her earlier and an image of Jean Grey appeared, with a brief bio and list of allergies. Storm scrolled down, skimming as she went. When she got to Jean's most recent visits the air seemed to thicken, her blood alternating between icy and boiling. Ororo re-read the entry in front of her: Controlled Pregnancy test: results (Negative). Then another entry three days later: Controlled Pregnancy test: results (Positive).
"Holy shit." Alison whispered, reading over Storm's shoulder. Then very dryly, "Who knew she was allergic to peanuts?"
Storm didn't even blink, just kept reading. "She's been injecting herself with low levels of progesterone." She read quietly.
"Why?" Kitty asked.
"Progesterone is a pregnancy hormone," Storm replied absently.
"Yeah, but why inject it into herself? I mean it's not like it'll make her pregnant." Alison said, leaning back and crossing her arms.
"No," Ororo murmured. "It could confuse a test, though."
"Yeah, it could." Alison swore. "She's still taking the injections," Ali noted. "Why?"
Storm thought for a moment then gasped, her blue eyes wide. "Not only to confuse a test, but to confuse a man."
"Excuse me?" Kitty asked, chewing her thumb nail nervously.
"Wolverine," Ali nodded, following Storm's train of thought. "He'd have smelled it on her."
"Whoa, that's just…Wow." Kitty shook her head disbelieving.
"That's fucked up." Alison said angrily. "So, Jean was just playing some sort of sick game," Alison shook her head, truly astounded by the gall it would take someone to do that. "What now?"
Storm could feel each and every heavy beat of her heart. She had grieved that baby, she had mourned their loss and she had watched as Wolverine became even more withdrawn. Her blue eyes faded, replaced by brightly glowing white fire. "Now, I let her know that playtime's over."
Storm strode away from her teammates, the air sizzling around her body.
Ali glanced at Kitty, a wicked grin on her face. "Ooohhhooo, this is gonna be good." She then left the med-lab, hot on Storm's tail.
Courtyard
Jean was leaning against the base of the fountain in the center of the circled drive, surrounded by several friends and sniffers. The term Ali used to describe the students who wished popularity by association and trailed Jean like a follower. She currently had her head leaned on Cyclops's chest, his arm around her shoulders protectively. Ororo's eyes narrowed. How dare that witch take comfort from another man when it was Wolverine's heart her little game trampled. Storm felt her entire body tremble with rage.
The only warning Jean received before Ororo's fist slammed into her face, was a loud rumble of thunder, then the cracking of her nose, spraying blood. Several of the students screamed, backing away from the obviously enraged Storm, who stood ramrod straight, eyes white, gloved hands clenched, hair whipping around her head, crackling with electricity. The temperature dropped quickly, Ororo's breath fanning in front of her face.
"Storm!" Cyclops reacted immediately, reaching for the button on his visor, but the heel of Storm's boot caught his temple, knocking him to the ground. She raised her foot again, bringing it down in his solar plexus, knocking the air from his body.
She placed her foot on his chest. "Stay down, pretty boy. This is between me and Pom-Pom." With that she reached down and ripped his visor off his head, flinging it aside.
Jean staggered to her feet, holding one hand to her nose, a look of fear on her face. Storm could feel her trying to penetrate her mind again and she smiled slowly at the redhead. "Not so easy when I have my defenses up, is it?" She moved quickly, rushing Jean and spinning, her elbow driving deep into the other woman's chest, sending her reeling once again. Jean cried out.
"Do you know what this is?" Storm asked quietly, her gaze steady. "This is karma, Jean." Her foot lashed out, catching Jean at the knees, dropping her.
"Hey! Hands off!" Bobby Drake was freezing over, racing towards them. Storm inclined her head and a swirl of air lifted the other man from the ground, flinging him into the pool.
She turned back to Jean. "Get up."
Jean shook her head, "Please, haven't you done enough to me?" she cried out loudly, for all to hear.
Storm grinned. "I haven't even started, Marvel Girl." She crouched low, watching Jean scramble. "As for what I want? Your head on a platter sounds nice." She dove forward, rolling so that her feet landed on Jean's outstretched legs, connecting with her kneecaps. Ororo sprung to her feet. "I thought being an X-Man meant giving as good as you got? You're disappointing me, Jean." She lifted the other woman by her hair.
"Storm, halt!" Peter Rasputin commanded in his thick Russian accent. "I don't want to hurt you." He was moving towards them, skin rippling solid steel.
Storm's eyes flashed. "What makes you think you can?" With a wave of her arm a wall of raging winds enclosed around her and Jean, leaving the others outside the swirling barrier, staring dumbfounded.
"Now, where were we? Oh, yes, you were about to scream." Storm threw the other woman across the ground with a viscous twist on her red hair.
"Someone!" Jean screamed clambering to her feet. "Help me!"
"I know what you did, you lying bitch." Ororo stalked the other woman slowly, her head lowered, her teeth bared, in a stance that was remarkably similar to Wolverine's.
Jean gave a mental push, a telekinetic pulse, pushing against Storm. Storm slid back, but not far, using a powerful blast of wind to counter the pulse, and propel her into Jean. She caught her on the wrist, twisting her arm behind her back, slamming her into the dirt, Ororo's knee planted in her back. She lifted Jean slightly, then slammed her down again. "How's that feel, Jean?" Storm leaned close, her breath stirring the hair at Jean's temples. Jean struggled futilely, screaming for help. "Come on, Pom-Pom, is that all you got?" She slammed her head into the ground.
Several students ran towards the porch, where their leader and mentor sat. He stared across the yard, his eyes resting on Jean and Storm. Without a word he rolled around, back into the mansion.
"He can't be serious?" Colossus demanded. "The Professor's just going to let them fight?"
"Not much of a fight, really," Alison muttered with a smile. "Not when it's a fair one anyway."
Storm's eyes glowed brightly and she yanked Jean's head back. "You hurt people maliciously, and without regard. That kind of behavior makes me sick. Tell them what you did." She shoved the Jean towards the small crowd of people brave enough to stay in the courtyard.
Jean glanced at Cyclops.
"What's going on, Jean?" Cyclops asked warily, his eyes closed tight.
"She lied." Storm said.
"Jean?" Scott asked guardedly.
"I'm so sorry, Scott," Jean said. "I don't know why I did it. I just did. I'm so sorry." She turned to Storm. "You're a two-bit con artist and murderer. I was trying to protect him."
"No, Jean. You wanted him for yourself." Storm's eyes flashed. "Stop lying." Thunder boomed. The clouds split, rain pouring from the sky, drenching everyone and everything.
"You don't belong here!" Jean screamed.
Storm floated slightly above the ground. "Why do you hate me?"
"Because he loves you! He never loved me!" Jean cried angrily, tears pouring from her green eyes.
"But I loved you," Scott said, voice cracking, finally getting it.
Jean sobbed openly now. "I know, Scott. I know. I love you too, it's just…oh, God, I just have always been the favorite…and then…." She waved one arm at Storm.
"All this because you weren't the favorite?" Alison asked. "Holy narcissist."
"Shut up," Jean spat. Ororo dropped and slapped her.
"You don't get to talk to my friends like that, Jean." Storm looked at Cyclops. "I am sorry for you, Cyclops. I know you still love her."
He nodded. "I do."
Storm gave Jean a hard look. "Why not try being worthy of that kind of unconditional love as opposed to chasing a man who doesn't want to be caught."
Jean lowered her eyes. "I'm so sorry…Scott…Storm." Her shoulders shook with her cries.
Storm closed her eyes. She moved towards the other woman, pulling her into her arms, holding her as she cried.
Alison's mouth hung open. Gambit approached from behind, using his index finger to close it. "Dat's why I love 'er." He said proudly.
"Unfuckingbelievable."
Gambit smiled. "Yes, she is."
"Okay, who gets to tell Wolverine?" Alison asked with a trace of genuine trepidation.
"Jean will tell him," Cyclops stated flatly.
Alison smiled. "Can I watch?"