Las Vegas, Nevada

Bellagio Hotel

Ororo awoke to gentle but insistent lips against her own. It was a decidedly pleasant sensation and she savored it. She slowly lifted her eyelids, and found herself staring into Logan's dark steel. He brushed her mouth again, parting her lips as his hands parted her thighs. She was already hot and wet, throbbing for release and she had the distinct impression he'd been working on her sleeping body for awhile now. She moaned as he slid into her, moving in gentle rhythm. "Logan." she sighed, tangling her fingers in his wild mane. He increased his pace, and soon both were moaning and straining against each other. She came with stunning swiftness, clamping her legs around his waist, lifting her hips off the mattress, and Logan followed, his hoarse cry of completion in her ear. They lay panting and entangled, murmuring softly to each other.

His lips grazed her shoulder. "I could get used ta wakin' up with you in my arms."

Ororo smiled. "I could get used to being here."

Logan's eyes twinkled. "Then get used ta it. I ain't spending' another night without ya." He nuzzled her cheek, chin and throat.

They made there way to the shower, taking their time, enjoying the warm spray, washing each other, kissing and holding one another. Logan had never wanted to fall in love, never thought he was the type, but with 'Ro he felt whole. The missing piece of his soul was her, and he was never going to let her go. As he thought it he pulled her into his arms, simply holding her.

Ororo sighed. Who knew he was so loving? Constantly touching her, just little gestures that made her feel, well, cherished. Precious.

They were drying each other off with large fluffy hotel room towels, which she suggested they take with them when they returned to New York, when a soft knock sounded on their door. "Housekeeping." A low voice said.

Ororo pushed back her wet hair, pulling one thick white towel around her, securing the end under her arm. She gave the sparkling shards of glass on the floor a wary look. "I don't think they're ever going to let us back in here," she said with a frown.

"We can ignore 'em." Logan rested his hands on her hips, brushing his mouth over hers slowly, drugging her senses.

More knocking, louder this time and a…giggle? "Housekeeping. Open the door."

"I don't think they're going to leave. Did we forget the do not disturb sign?"

"No, it's there." Logan lifted his head, sniffing. He rumbled a bit, strolling to the door, still unabashedly, completely, naked.

"Logan, what on earth are you doing?" Ororo demanded in a hushed voice as his hand closed around the doorknob.

"It's quarter past seven 'Ro. Housekeeping don't show up fer another hour. I smell crawfish and hair gel." He opened the door with a quick jerk. "Go away." Wolverine growled.

Ali and Gambit stood in the hallway. Ali's eyes lowered involuntarily, and her mouth dropped open, a startled gasp coming from her. "Oh wow."

Gambit quickly clamped his gloved hand over her eyes.

"Sorry, mon frere. We be goin' for breakfast now, but I can see dat you're busy." Gambit attempted to maneuver Ali away, while keeping one hand firmly placed over her blue green eyes.

They were halfway down the hall when Logan heard, "That Storm sure knows how to pick 'em." Followed by a distinctly unpleasant sound from Gambit. He closed the door.

"You're terrible." Ororo chided with a smile.

Logan smirked. "That's not what you were moaning in my ear not thirty minutes ago." Ororo snapped a towel at him. He easily avoided the cotton whip, removing it from her hands with a playful growl. "Breakfast don't sound like a bad idea though," he added.

Yawning, Ororo nodded. "I could sure use some caffeine."

Downstairs Restaurant

"The others are over there." Ororo nodded her head in the direction where Kitty, Kurt, Gambit and Alison were seated at a table, engaged in friendly conversation. Kitty was feeding Kurt spoonfuls of scrambled eggs, her cheeks a rosy hue. Gambit attempted the same with Ali only to have her nip his finger.

Logan nodded, but made no move to join the others. "Yeah, I know. Let's get our own table before they see us." A hostess escorted them to a table and once they were alone again he said, "Ya were gonna tell me what's the real deal with you and Chuck."

Ororo sighed softly. "What do you want to know exactly?" She pushed her thick ponytail over her shoulder, leaning in with her elbows on the table, resting her chin on folded hands.

"How'd ya meet?"

"It was a while ago, actually. I was on the streets of New York city. Homeless, starving, dirty. Charles pulled up in a limo and asked if I wanted a ride. I refused at first, thinking he was some sort of perv, but he did a little mental nudging and soon I was in the car, listening to his 'Dream' spiel."

"Go on." Logan leaned back in his seat, listening intently.

"He approached me several times after that, each time I felt a little more drawn to the idea."

Wolverine nodded, not really liking the idea that Xavier had mentally nudged Storm into accepting a position on the X-Men.

A waitress approached, asking for their drink orders.

"Coffee. Black. And Orange Juice." Ororo responded. "Also, I already know what I want to eat. Small stack of pancakes, two eggs, over easy, three strips of bacon and a couple of sausage links. Home fries if you have them and a fruit cup."

Logan raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Nothin', darlin'." He barely glanced at the waitress, his eyes on Storm. "I'll have the same, minus the fruit cup and orange juice."

"It'll be just a few minutes." The petite brunette removed their menus.

"Ok, so then what?" he prompted when they were alone again.

Ororo took a sip from her ice water. "Then the nightmares began again."

Logan leaned forward, remembering what she had told him about her parents.

"Remember that freak series of floods last year?"

Logan nodded. The mayor of New York had declared them a federal emergency, requesting aide to help fortify the streets and install pumps to remove the water. "Well," Ororo was saying. "that was me. My powers are linked to my emotions and when I'm upset violent weather occurs."

Logan remembered the windows shattering in the cafeteria at the Institute and again in the hotel room last night. "Hell of a way ta live," he said, not without feeling.

"I get by." She shrugged but he caught a strong whiff of sadness from her. "Anyway, Xavier realized what was going on and tracked me down. He offered to help me with my…problem, and in return I would be an X-man."

Logan was silent for a long minute, watching her carefully. "There's more to it than that," he said quietly.

There was a heavy silence. "Yes."

Logan waited, not pushing her for the answers.

Ororo shifted uncomfortably under his steady gaze. "There is a man, if you could call him that, that I am running from." She was looking at the table now, not at him.

Every muscle in his body tensed. 'Ro was being hunted? "Who?" Wolverine growled.

"His name is unimportant." she replied.

Wolverine gave her a hard stare. "His name," he demanded again.

"Amahl Farouk."

Logan nodded, logging it to memory.

"Xavier has given me a means to stay undetected from him." She tapped the spot directly behind her ears. "The neural inhibitors scramble my psychic signature, making me near impossible to locate and they somehow can block out him. Seeing as how both Jean and that Emma freak were able to get in my head, as well as Charles, it's a pretty safe assumption that they only block him out."

"So, Chuck's protecting ya."

"In a manner. In all actuality there are a couple of reasons I think Xavier's keeping me close. One being that he's afraid of what will happen if Farouk gets a hold of me again."

"Wait." Logan's brows lowered. "Again?"

Ororo took a deep breath. "Yes. I was a slave of his until I was kidnapped when I was eight by Papa-Jean. That's how I came to be Gambit's little sister." She cast the dashing Cajun a loving glance over her shoulder. The four others were still enjoying their meal, not yet noticing Storm and Wolverine on the other side of the restaurant.

Wolverine's teeth gnashed together. His beautiful Ororo a slave. Motherfucker. He reached across the table, warm fingers stroking her cheek. "I'm sorry, darlin.'"

She gave him a brittle smile. "Me too. Those are times best left forgotten." For a moment Ororo could almost smell the opium haze that clung to Farouk, she could almost see the women being subjected to perverse sexual desires, girls as young as ten. She shuddered, thanking her goddess that Jean-Luc LaBeau had found and rescued her before it was her turn. As it had been, many a male would request her from her owner, but she was Farouk's favorite, his best thief and would not be used until she had outlived her usefulness. She knew that he himself desired her, though he never touched her, but she knew even as a child, and it sickened her. No, Farouk would not share her. He would whisper to her in her mind as she slept, speaking of how one day she would help him rule the world, how he would make her his queen. Ororo shuddered.

"Darlin.?" Logan was peering at her worriedly.

"Sorry. What?"

"Where's this guy now? Is this the guy you wanted me ta kill?"

Ororo blinked, remembering her comment to him their first walk. "No." She took another drink of water. "Farouk is nowhere and everywhere now."

Logan cocked his head. "I ain't following."

Ororo exhaled slowly. "Long before Charles met me, Xavier met Farouk. Maybe he sensed what he was and wanted to meet him, I don't know all the details, I was living in New Orleans at the time."

"What he was?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Farouk is a mutant telepath."

"Hnh."

"So, Xavier met him. I don't know what exactly transpired, but it wasn't good."

The waitress approached with their food. "Here you go."

"Thanks." Ororo said, unfolding her napkin, placing it on her lap. She took the cup of coffee gratefully. Logan may be able to function one hundred percent on two hours of sleep, but she needed at least four.

Logan took a bite of his eggs, though his appetite had significantly decreased. "How do you know it wasn't good?"

For a minute Ororo's eyes clouded with pain. "It's because of Farouk that Charles is in a wheelchair."

Logan was startled. He had never questioned Chuck as to what had happened, firmly believing it was none of his damn business. "How?"

"Some sort of mind-duel. Xavier won, trapping Farouk's mind on some sort of astral plane, but the physical cost to his body lead to his paralysis. Even defeated and in another plane of existence Farouk managed to leak out, corrupting people, hurting them, searching for me." She hugged her arms around her body. "He found me in New Orleans when I was sixteen. The nightmares were…unbearable." She was momentarily distracted, recalling the awful dreams of her killing Gambit and Jean-Luc and relishing in it. "They wore me down to the point of insanity. I traveled trying to escape him, and I would from time to time, but he always managed to find me. His Hounds were always on my heels. I started downing uppers to stay awake, going days without rest. It was pathetic, and that's how Xavier found me. A pathetic drug addicted lost soul." Her tone implied a great deal of self disgust, and it tore at Logan's heart.

"It seems a bit coincidental that Xavier would 'happen' upon you."

Ororo nodded. "He'd been searching as well. When he mind-dueled Farouk he learned of me, of the destiny Farouk had in store for me. That's why Xavier wants me as an X-Man, he's afraid of what could happen."

"What could happen? What's this Farouk bastard want from you?"

She gave him a level look, her eyes very blue. "He wants to use me to destroy the world."

Logan frowned. He knew of powerful mutants, hell he was surrounded by them. Cyke could blast a hole through a mountain, Jean could shred your brains, Colossus could take out a nuclear sub, and Magneto had been in a league all his own. Hell, Chuck could mindfuck the world if he chose, but even he had limits. He couldn't destroy the world, no one could.

"I can." Ororo stated with infinite sadness when he said as much. She took a ragged breath. "It's one of the reasons I avoid human contact, avoid getting close. I fear what my emotions will do, especially if something were to…" just at the thought of something happening to Logan Ororo felt her muscles stiffen. Logan could smell ozone gathering. "Imagine hundreds of storm systems merging, converging becoming a global rampage. Bringing mass flooding, mudslides, maybe even an ice age."

"You can do that?"

Ororo nodded. "Just imagine the devastation of the tsunami in Indonesia on a global scale."

"I see." He lifted his mug. That much power in one woman? It was mind-boggling. "So Charles searched ya out, tracked ya down, offered ta protect ya and in return you what? Take on leadership of half the X'ers?"

"That wasn't part of our agreement." She smiled ruefully. "Charles is a smart man, he knows what I want more than anything is a place to call home. Friends. Family." She paused. "Love." She finished her coffee. "That's why he brought Gambit to me. To give me an anchor so I wouldn't drift away."

"Go on."

"This is where things get complicated." She set the mug on the table. "Xavier knows the threat I bring, but he also sees what I can bring to his team. Power. Besides, I'm his failsafe."

"His what?"

"If Farouk gets free enough to come after me full force, chances are he could destroy Xavier and his dream in the process. I'm a pretty nice bargaining chip."

Logan was growling now. "Are you saying that Xavier would give ya t' this S.O.B?"

"Not without a fight, I don't think, but yes, if it meant me or the dream. C'mon, Logan, the man let me get hacked for a million bucks. I wouldn't put much past him."

"But if he gives ya ta Whatshishead, then won't it all have been fer nothing'?"

She tilted her head. "Not if he kills me."

They were silent for long minutes. Realization slowly dawned on Logan as he recalled their first real conversation:

He said that you were an assassin. The best assassin in the world.

And what do you think of that?

I hope he's right.

Why, darlin'? Is there someone you want killed?

I hope it doesn't come to that, but yeah, maybe.

"It's you." he said with narrowed yes. "Yer the person ya want me ta kill."

"Like I said, I hope it doesn't come to that but--"

"No." His voice was a savage growl, low in his chest.

Ororo simply pushed the food around on her plate. "You won't have a choice if the time comes, Wolverine." She used his code name so that he would understand that she wouldn't be asking Logan for anything, she would demand compliance from her team member.

"Then we make damn sure that time never comes."

Ororo tried to smile, but failed. "That's the plan." she confirmed.

They finished their breakfast in silence.

Bellagio Hotel

Casino/Night

"Winner!" The dealer exclaimed, handing Gambit several multicolored chips. The tall Cajun was seated at the high roller black jack table, looking every inch a smooth operator in his black silk shirt and dark pants, leather choker and dark shades. He grinned his trademark sly grin, tossing a blue chip at a buxom brunette, before sauntering away from the table to find Alison. It was the last night of their week off and he wanted to enjoy it with his love.

He found his petite imp giving hell to a slot machine. Gambit stopped a few feet away, admiring her. Ali hated when he stared, but he couldn't help it, he was fascinated by her. She didn't think she was attractive, he knew; not because she said as much, but because he felt it from her whenever he would tell her she was beautiful. And to him she was beautiful with her cynical aquamarine eyes, her little upturned nose, with how her top lip was slightly rounded and fuller than her bottom lip, the freckle above her left eyebrow, her short spiky lashes, and her dark, wild tresses. She was shorter than he was by a good six inches, and though tough, she was slight in frame, with slender tattooed arms and small perky breasts, that he enjoyed immensely. Gambit had always used his voice and words to seduce, but with Ali whenever he commented on her appearance in any way she would subtly withdraw from him, telling him that he needn't be charming, that he was guaranteed the goods. Remy was at a loss sometimes, not knowing how to show her she meant more to him than a good- make that great -lay. With a determined smile he made his way to her side.

"Bonjour, ma petite bella."

Ali gave him a quick look, then turned back to the machine. "Hey, Yummy." She pulled the machine's arm, sending cherries and lemons spinning. "How'd you make out?"

"Gambit won of course," he said with supreme arrogance. "And you, chere?"

"Pfft." Ali poked her tongue out at him.

Gambit stepped closer. "Der are better uses for dat tongue of yours."

Ali flushed as she always did when he flirted. She went to look away again but Gambit caught her chin, forcing her face back to his. He used his thumb to coax her mouth open, covering it with his own, swirling into her. Ali was in his arms instantly, wrapping herself around him and Gambit enjoyed her immediate and uninhibited response.

"Ahem."

They broke away slowly. Ali gave Kitty an irritated frown. "You have lousy timing."

"Sorry to interrupt, Ali." Kurt said with a chuckle. "Have you seen Wolverine or Storm?"

"Ohhh, yeah I've seen Wolverine."

Gambit swatted her ass. "Dat's enough of dat, chere." he teased.

Kitty looked confused. "Huh?"

"Not'in." Gambit said. "Wolverine's in da lounge and Stormy is comin' dis way now." Gambit looked over their shoulders towards the open entrance. "Mon Dieu," he said as she approached. "Da Wolverine's gonna 'ave 'is 'ands full tonight."

Ali grinned. "Yes, he will."

She had taken Storm shopping that afternoon, while Gambit and Wolverine did whatever it is Gambit and Wolverine do when they're together. Kitty and Kurt had tagged along, but ended up kissing and cuddling for a majority of the shopping excursion, drawing rolled eyes and groans from Ali and pleased smiles from Storm.

They had stopped for lunch, and chatted. Kitty had done most of the talking, chipper as ever, saying she was having the time of her life. The others had listened, nodding as she rambled. Ali had cast Storm knowing looks over the table during their meal, wiggling her pierced brows every chance she got and had delighted in Storm's flush. She took it in stride though and as they left the little café Storm had asked, "Jealous?"

The afternoon was filled with touristy activities and shopping. They had stopped at a few shops that Ali had found interesting and that had borderline frightened Kitty. Eventually Ali convinced Storm to go with her to a tattoo parlor where Ali had gotten herself a tattoo of fanned out cards, with a prominent ace of spades on her lower back. Gambit hadn't seen it yet and she wondered what his reaction would be. Once in the parlor she had asked Storm if she wanted a tattoo. Storm was reluctant, rubbing the back of her neck and Ali sensing that it was a touchy subject and had quickly changed topics. She instead suggested adding a piercing to which Storm had smiled with mischief and agreed.

Now as Storm walked towards them Ali could see the sparkle of Storm's dangling jeweled belly button ring against the exposed skin of her toned midriff. Storm looked dangerous tonight, Ali thought with a smirk. Storm was dressed in a short, but flowing shredded black skirt that brushed her thighs as she walked, revealing plenty of gorgeous long leg as she moved. Her shoes were ones Ali had helped pick out, thin strapped black heels with criss-cross ties that ran up Storm's claves to the underside of her knees. Her top was one she had already owned, but the two of them had modified it. A tight black off the shoulder shirt with long sleeves, a hole cut in the cuffs for her thumbs, then cut again with a blade under her well rounded breasts and then sliced with a razor, giving glimpses of flawless rounded skin. It was more revealing than Storm's usual attire and at first she had hesitated, but Ali said, "What happens in Vegas," and Storm had laughed. Ali had then applied the same razor to Storm's hair, chopping off a good six inches, so instead of resting against the swell of her backside, it hung just below Storm's shoulder blades. Ali then proceeded to cut the thick white mane in different places and at varying length, giving it a wild, untamed look. Storm had instantly loved it, running her fingers through the multiple layers, praising Ali as an artist.

Seeing her handy work fully packaged, Ali would have to agree with her.

"Hello everyone." Storm greeted.

Gambit gave her a low whistle. "Good t'ing you be da Wolverine's problem tonight, chere. I'm exhausted jus' t'inkin 'bout da trouble you're going t' be."

"Har-Har, Gambit." Storm said with a smile. She looked around. "Where is he anyway?"

"Right behind ya, darlin'." Warm breath tickled her neck, strong hands clamping to her hips, pulling her back against a solid wall of muscle, moist lips brushed against the soft skin just behind her ear, making her shiver. She turned into him, inhaling the heady scent of cigars and alcohol, mixed with the masculine smell that belonged to him alone. Logan. She let herself fall back against him, completely trusting that he would be there to support her. She felt more than heard the low rumble in his chest and smiled anew.

"Ya look stunning'," he said against her ear.

"How would you know, you've only seen me from behind," she teased.

"It was enough." He turned her, however, a slow smile of appreciation spreading across his face, and his eyes took on a possessive gleam.

Ali cleared her throat. "Okay then, if Wolverine's done ogling Storm, what say we get this show on the road."

"D'accord."

"What he said." Kitty chimed.

"You look nice, Sprite." Wolverine commented to Kitty, who practically glowed under his praise.

"You think?" She turned, the hem of her cream colored skirt swirling as she did. "Thanks."

"Yeah, yeah, we're a bunch o' beautiful muties. Let's move." Ali said herding them towards the lobby.

Storm gave her Ali a look over her shoulder. "Where are we going first?"

"Thought we'd stroll the strip, see what's what."

"Sounds good ta me, so long as we grab a brew."

"Do you like anything more than beer?" Kitty questioned.

Wolverine's smile was sinful. "There is one thing."

"Lalalalalala!" Kitty placed her hands over her ears.

Storm ran her hands down her skirt. "Who's up for some dancing?"

Wolverine smirked. "You always want ta dance."

"And you never do." She retorted, but without anger, a smile on her face.

They left the hotel and made their way to the parked SUV they'd rented for the night. Once at the vehicle Ororo gave Wolverine a sly grin. "You want to drive?"

"Naw, darlin'. I'll leave that in your very capable hands."

Club Nova

"She's good." Wolverine commented, watching Ali on the stage, working the crowd. She was currently jumping up and down, her white tank top lifting to expose her stomach, one hand in the air, lights flashing, moving the small mob into a frenzy.

They had stopped into one of the many bars lining the strip and upon arrival Ali had been recognized and invited to sing with the house band. She had eagerly accepted.

"Ja. I can see why her band was called Dazzler. She's amazing," agreed Kurt.

"Dat she is," Gambit agreed with warmth that didn't go unnoticed by Wolverine.

Gambit took a swig of his beer before saying, "So I take it you and Stormy be a couple now? Cause she'd better not be some fuckin' fling for you, homme."

Wolverine leaned back, his eyes moving to the dance floor where Storm and Kitty were dancing. His gut clenched at the sight of her, just like it did every time he looked at her. Damn, would she always have such a startling impact to his senses? He thought she probably would. "We're most definitely together." Wolverine stated.

Ali sang for another half hour, her voice ranging between low and sultry to punk and hard. The crowd cheered and swayed as if hypnotized by her and her 'lightshow'.

"Wow, I haven't had a rush like that in awhile!" Ali said when she was done, planting herself in a chair beside Gambit. "That was fun!" She reached for his beer.

Wolverine tensed in his seat, sitting up straighter as he watched a dark haired, good looking man approach Kitty as she tried to leave the dance floor. He watched as the guy said something, then as Kitty shook her head no, turning away from the young man. The guy looked over his shoulder towards a table where a group of guys sat, catcalling and making lewd comments, egging their friend on. A low growl rumbled in Wolverine's throat as the guy too dumb to take a hint grabbed Kitty's arm.

Kurt was on his feet, but Ali grabbed his wrist. "Wait for it," she said with a grin.

There was a loud thump as the dark haired man's face hit the floor, Storm stood behind him, yanking his arms behind his back, her heel planted between his shoulder blades.

"Problem, darlin'?" Wolverine asked nonchalantly, stepping beside her.

"Not at all, love. Thanks for asking." She gave him a quick kiss on the lips, digging her heel down. "This idiot was just about to apologize to Kitty for touching her."

"Ugh..yeah, yeah…s-sorry."

Storm released him. "Shoo." The guy scrambled away from her, rushing back to his friends. Several of the larger guys stood up, chests puffed up. Wolverine grinned feral. They sat back down.

"C'mon, darlin'. I'll buy ya a drink, and a soda fer Sprite." He wrapped his arm around her waist, casually draping his hand against her hip.

"I'm not much of a drinker," Storm said as they sat.

"Aww, come on, Storm. It's our last night in Vegas," Ali protested. "VEGAS for crying out loud! You have to live it up!" She grabbed a passing waitress. "Blow jobs all around," she ordered.

"Kitty close yer mouth. They're shots."

Several drinks later

"Strip club?" Ali asked, pounding back her third shot of tequila.

Storm tilted a little to the side, slightly unsteady on her seat. "Why not?"

Wolverine shifted his weight against her, helping her stand, a wide grin on his face. 'Ro was hammered.

"I think I'm gonna puke," Kitty moaned, holding her stomach.

"You better not, pipsqueak," Ali ordered. "There shall be no splatter art this evening. Or else."

"Or else what, chere?"

"Or else it's on…it's on like Donkey Kong!" Ali slammed her fist into the table.

Gales of laughter from the three girls.

"Dey be 'avin' fun," Gambit murmured dryly.

Kurt's brow furrowed. "Did I miss something?" He asked, returning from the bathroom.

"Yeah," Wolverine nodded, lighting a cigar. "About twelve shots. Get lost in there?"

"Nein. I accidentally got the inducer wet washing my hands and had to wait for it to kick in again."

"Riiiight." Ali laughed. "Let's go."

This time Wolverine drove, with Storm in the passenger seat, the other's in the back. She leaned over to him, nipping his ear. Wolverine's teeth clenched. "Yer gonna cause an accident," he warned.

"Do I distract you, Wolverine?" Storm slid one hand into his hair, twirling the dark locks around her fingers. Her other hand slid along his jean clad thigh.

"Yer playin' with fire, doll," he growled.

"No," she said huskily. "I'm playing with you."

He gave her a heated glance. "Same thing."

"Mmmm." Her lips fluttered over his neck, down to the black collar of his tee. "I'll behave." She sat back into her seat, but cast him a sultry look. "For now."

Wolverine's breath hissed out. Vixen. He felt his body throb, his knuckles white with the pressure he was exerting on the steering wheel. He suddenly turned the vehicle, making a sharp left.

"Easy, Wolverine. Kitty's all set to hurl." Ali warned. "Where the hell we going?"

"Spur of the moment change of plans." Was all he said.

"What about the strippers?" Gambit asked, earning a pinch from Ali.

"They ain't goin' no where, Gumbo, relax."

Forty-five minutes later

Storm circled his waist with smooth arms, her hands moving over him, slipping under his solid black tee shirt to explore his skin, pressing him back against the cool wall.

Wolverine's hand bunched the hair behind her head in a tight fist, lowering his mouth to claim what was his. Ororo returned the kiss with equal hunger, moaning into his mouth. She pulled at his shirt, rending the seam, trying to tear it off him.

Ding.

Finally! Wolverine lifted her, her long legs wrapping around his waist, his hands cupping her ass, moving her against him as they stumbled from the elevator, still kissing feverishly, tongues dueling.

"Hurry," she rasped into his neck.

Wolverine fumbled for the hotel card key in his back pocket. Ororo leaned back slightly and gave a small wave of her hand, shocking the security box. There was a faint click and Logan kicked the door open, slamming it shut with the back of his boot. He turned, slamming her into the newly shut door, his hands sliding under her skirt. -SNIKT- Her sexy black panties fell away.

"Uuuhnnn, 'Ro." he groaned, her hands inflaming him. She was pushing at his jeans, her palm sliding down the front of him to cup his heavy fullness. The beast inside, already close to the surface broke free, taking her to the floor, ripping and slicing the clothes from her body as he did. His dark eyes glittered feral in the shadows of their room. "Yer mine!" he vowed, filling her completely. "Mine!" He wanted to roar his love for her, but as he was momentarily stunned by his love for her and lost the ability to speak, so he told her with his body.

Ororo writhed beneath his fierce onslaught, her body on fire, screaming for release. She clutched his shoulders, staring up at the face she loved so much. His features were set in harsh lines, contorted in pleasure. He bared his teeth at her, a damp tendrils of midnight falling across his forehead, making him seem younger. Ororo lifted her fingers to his face, tracing his jaw, up along his sideburns into his thick mane, tugging at him, pulling his mouth down to hers.

He took his time, kissing her slowly even though his body raged furiously. The contrast was highly erotic and Ororo wanted to weep with pleasure. Goddess, but he knew how to please a woman!

Her body was made for him, he thought, changing positions. Hot. Tight. Strong. He felt unexpected moisture sting his eyes at her unconditional acceptance of him. She gave herself to him freely, without reservation, accepting him, accepting the dominance of his body taking hers. "Yer incredible," he panted, reaching around her to cradle her throat in his palm, the very tips of his fingers brushing her jaw. Ororo turned her face into his neck, an act of complete submission.

With an animal roar he flipped her once again, slamming into her, lifting her legs over his shoulders. She was exquisite, panting and crying out for him. For only him. His. Only his. He covered her mouth in a deep kiss, his tongue demanding entrance, filling her with her own pungent sweetness.

She clutched at him, her nails digging into his shoulders, her small cries of satisfaction muffled against his lips. He held her tightly, feeling the white hot pleasure approaching. Her body was clinging to his, her sweat dampened skin pressed as close as humanly possible to his and still he wanted more. Fuck, she was going to kill him. Who cares, Bub. You'll die a happy man. "Fuckfuckfuckfuck…" He tightened his hold, bruising her with his strength but she didn't care. She held him, her body still rippling from her own release.

Slowly Logan released her, pushing her sweat dampened hair from her face, brushing her lips with butterfly kisses. Hot tears coursed down her face and he kissed them away, flicking the salty diamonds away with his tongue. "Shhshh, darlin'. Don't cry." She cried harder.

Logan stroked her face, nuzzled her neck, murmured meaningless sounds. When still she cried he began to hum in her ear, his deep bass soothing. Soon the words of a children's lullaby were being sung in his deep growl and it was comforting.

Ororo pressed her face to his chest, hugging him tight. She loved him, so very much. Only Logan. Her Logan. Her miracle. He had done something she had hoped no one ever to do, but now was eternally grateful for. He had given her a reason to live.

As the last words of the lullaby were rasped in her ear Ororo whispered, "I love you."

Logan smiled with a tenderness he had never shown anyone before. He glanced at their linked hands, his molten gaze resting on the matching gold bands. "I love ya, wife."

Their mouths met in a kiss that touched souls, their hearts beating as one in a rhythm as old as time. They were one.