Xavier Institute
Loft
Logan stroked the tips of his fingers along Ororo's bare arm. She made a small sound of contentment in her sleep, snuggling closer to him. He kissed the top of her head softly before returning his stare to the ceiling with a heavy sigh. They'd been home for less than two full days and already he wanted to leave again, to take her away from this place.
Xavier, Jean and Scooter had met them in the hanger upon arrival, and Xavier's somber eyes had immediately noticed the rings around his and Storm's fingers. "I see it was an…eventful trip," he had said dryly.
"It had it's moments," Wolverine had responded swinging Storm up into his arms.
"What's the matter with Storm? Is she injured?" Scott had asked taking a step forward down the metal ramp.
"No. Wolverine just likes to carry his wife around," Ali had said nonchalantly. She and the others had been witnesses, very drunk witnesses, but witnesses none the less to the small ceremony between Wolverine and Storm at The Little White Chapel. Gambit had protested mildly, only until Storm had asked him to give her away, which he then did with flourish. Two hundred bucks and fifteen minutes after their entrance to the chapel the two of them had left married and the four remaining X-Men Black members had taken a cab back to the strip while he and Storm had celebrated their vows.
"His what?" Jean had exclaimed, her voice about three octaves higher than necessary, eyes practically rolling down the ramp.
Wolverine smirked now, thinking of Ali's response to Jean.
"Is there something about the phrase 'his wife' that's giving you trouble, princess? Cuz I can dumb it down if you need me to." Ali had drawled.
Jean had stood sputtering for a full ten seconds after that and Wolverine made a mental note that he owed Ali one. He liked the kid, she had spunk.
Now, laying in 'Ro's bed, the morning light slowly creeping over the horizon, a reminder that he couldn't stop time, his thoughts kept drifting to the one fateful conversation he and 'Ro had in Vegas over breakfast, the day she had revealed why she had come to the Institute. Something had been set into motion that day, and he wasn't sure what, but he felt it all the way to his adamantium laced bones.
Though she had told him what he had wanted to know, he knew she was still holding back. Unconsciously he tightened his arms around her. He was still having a hard time to wrap his mind around everything she had told him and for days he'd chosen to ignore the fact that she was counting on him to kill her if push came to shove and that Farouk fucker got a hold of her. Never. He closed his eyes, trying to get rid of the pain that thought caused. Never, 'Ro.
Ororo stirred against him, her breathing becoming shallow. Outside the wind picked up, and a low rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance. She was having a dream, good or bad he didn't know, but held her close, whispering comforting words in her ear regardless.
He was normally a very observant man, and it surprised him that he hadn't noticed the connection between her moods and the weather. Granted he doubted anyone else had either, but now that he knew, he saw it and felt it all the time. A smile would often mean a gentle breeze, a laugh was sometimes the stirring of air and the scent of summer on the wind, a frown could be a brief chill, but it was when they made love that he was in awe of her. The thunder boomed, lightening flashed, winds howled and rain fell. He got the impression that even then, she kept herself under careful control and he wondered what it would take to make her lose herself completely, and even as he wondered it, he thought how dangerous that could be.
"Logan…" she was mumbling in her sleep.
"Here, baby." he murmured, rubbing her bare back.
She stirred again, her sleep fitful. "The… hounds…" Lightning flashed.
"Shh. It's all right, I'm here," he whispered against the sworls of her ear. Ororo relaxed, her mouth parting, her warm breath stirring his chest hairs. "I won't let anything happen ta ya, darlin'."
Despite his whispered reassurance he watched her hand travel instinctively under her pillow, even in sleep, clutching the dagger hidden there. He shook his head, closing his eyes, inhaling against her soft tresses, breathing in her unique scent . "What the fuck happened ta ya, baby?"
Back lawn
Mid-morning
"Welcome back from your vacation," Cyclops said a bit sarcastically, pacing in front of the six members of X-Men Back, hands behind his back, jaw jutted forward in his best leader pose. "Today we're running a joint training exercise." He showed them the round orb he was carrying. "This is a live bomb. The object of today's training will be to safely remove the bomb from the civilian occupied area, i.e. the field, and keep the other team from achieving the same objective. Those two posts are your goals, the two at that end are ours." Cyclops pointed to opposite ends of the field where his team stood waiting. "The rules are simple. You can use your powers, you can make physical contact if necessary. Once the bomb is removed from it's cradle and put into play we have five minutes to clear it before ka-boom. Let's try to keep everyone alive today. Clear?"
Storm didn't miss the subtle dig. She gave a nod. "Perfectly."
He motioned his team forward. "Let's go." The bomb was settled into a white holder halfway between the two teams. They moved to opposite ends of the field.
"What's the plan, boss?" Wolverine asked, rotating his shoulders under the tight spandex of his uniform his dark eyes glittering with anticipation.
Storm studied their opponents for a moment well she tied her wild hair back with a black elastic. "Cyclops is going to be gunning for Wolverine," she said thoughtfully. "And if they have half a brain they'll be wondering if we're going to have the fuzzy elf bamf his way to the bomb and out again, which means Jean'll probably try to lock onto you Kurt. Warren's not much of an issue," she added seeing how he hung back away from the others a bit in the Red team's huddle. "I have a feeling Beast will be sent for retrieval. So that leaves Colossus and Iceman as their offense."
"You sound pretty sure," Kitty said.
"Well, given that that's a real bomb, I'd want my resident genius on top of it, not to mention Hank can move like nobody's business." Storm said with a measure of pride towards her furry colleague.
"Okay.." Ali's lips were moving but Storm couldn't make out the words, a monotonous humming filling her ears, and her vision wavered. She blinked several times to clear her head.
"Stormy?"
"Huh?"
"Ali asked you a question, chere." Gambit was leaning against his long bo.
Storm rubbed her temples. "Sorry."
"You all right, Storm?" Wolverine stepped to her, peering into her eyes.
She looked away. "Yeah, just thinking."
She was lying. He could see it and he could smell it. "If yer not feeling-"
"I feel fine." She had taken on her leader voice and Wolverine stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest, the set of his mouth grim. "What was your question, Ali?"
"Do we play nice?"
Storm glanced over at the Red team, and Cyclops parading around in front of them, his chest puffed out, his head tilted in a supremely arrogant manner. He was a good leader, Storm knew, but he was far too cocky today for her liking. "Let's hand Cyclops his arrogant ass."
Wolverine grinned.
"Gambit and Ali, take down Colossus, I got Iceman and Warren covered. Wolverine make your way through and get me that bomb. Kurt, give Jean a run for her money, bamf as much as you can before she grabs your mind. Kitty, when Jean has Kurt, get to her and take her down."
Kitty was surprised but pleased by the faith Storm had in her to get to Jean. "Will do."
"What about Beast?" Kurt asked.
"Wolverine will just have to get the bomb first and handle both Cyclops and Beast. No problem right?" One corner of her mouth was turned up in a confident smile.
-SNIKT- "No problem."
One of the junior students seated on the sidelines launched a flare, signaling the start of the match.
X-Men Black took immediate action. Kurt bamfed towards the center of the field, then again and again, making it look like he was making his way to the bomb. Storm immediately took to the air, sending a strong current against the oncoming X-Men, making it hard for Warren to maintain flight. She glanced down at her team, watching as Wolverine dodged countless blasts from Cyclops, maneuvering his way towards the blinking orb, Ali and Gambit were trying to hold off Colossus and holding up fairly well, but the big Russian was closing in on them.
"Ok, Heavy Metal, try this on for size!" Ali shouted, launching into a rousing rendition of ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, feeding her mutant power with her voice, blasting multicolored beams of light against Peter's steel skin.
Colossus charged, forcing Ali back, but his momentum was halted by a low whistle and the explosion of three glowing cards in the ground directly in front of him.
"Careful, Gambit, don't get too close to the bomb with those," Storm warned. Suddenly a large ice fist closed around her and Iceman stood on the ground below cheering himself.
"Oh yeah. Who da man? You da man! Oy-oy!" His free hand pumped up and down.
Storm rolled her eyes, trying not to laugh at his antics. She summoned a low voltage bolt, separating her from Bobby, causing him to shout "Ow!" She crashed to the ground, shattering the ice encasing her, and soared into the air again, summoning a swirling vortex to close around Iceman, and she also sent a cloud of pouring rain directly over Warren's head, soaking him and his wings.
"Aw, C'mon, Storm!" Bobby called being lifted. "Not the pool this time!"
Splash!
He came up spluttering.
"Storm heads!" Kurt called.
Storm glanced up to see Warren leaping up at her, flapping his soggy wings. He reached for her ankle, trying to pull her down to the ground, but Storm quickly increased the wind holding her aloft, keeping Warren up in the air with her.
"Hi, Angel." She returned her gaze to the field, checking on her team. Kurt was on his knees, holding his head. Kitty was close to Jean and Storm watched with no small amount of pride as Kitty phazed her hand into Jean's back, saying, "Let him go, or I crush your little heart."
"Jean's out." Ali called. A low powered optic blast caught her in the head.
"You are too, Alison. Your brains are splattered all over the ground. Bye-bye."
"Shit!" Ali sat on the ground, one hand on her chin, elbow on her fatigue covered knee.
"Kurt's done too," Warren said floating beside Storm. "Jean has 'shredded' his mind."
Storm inclined her head giving Warren an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Angel."
Warren nodded. "I understand, Storm." She let him drop, pushing him down with a gust of wind. Warren crashed into the ground, dust flying. "Out!" Ali hollered.
Cyclops joined Colossus and tried to hit Gambit with an optic shot, but the agile Cajun avoided it, back flipping away from them. He swung his staff, but Colossus caught it, pulling it from his hands. "Merde." Gambit flung two cards.
Wolverine crouched low, his hand snatching the black orb from it's cradle, moving with preternatural swiftness towards their goal just before Gambit's cards detonated, blocking Colossus from Wolverine.
"Good morning, Wolverine. Fancy meeting you here." Beast loped beside him, his furry face parted in a wide grin, revealing thick, sharp teeth.
"Blue boy." Wolverine greeted. He then shifted all his weight to one leg, rotating on the ball of his foot, coming around Beast and tackling him from behind. -SNIKT- Three long claws buried themselves in the ground beside Hank's face. "Yer out." He looked up, catching Storm's eye. "Hey, baby." He grinned at her, teeth gleaming. He then shoved himself off Beast, running towards the goal posts. Storm caught sight of Cyclops Moving parallel to Wolverine, aiming. She sent a gust of wind towards her husband, forcing him aside. "Thanks, darlin.'"
Wolverine was almost to goal when a telekinetic pulse plowed him into the ground.
"Hey!" Kitty exclaimed. "You're out!"
Jean elbowed her in the nose, causing Kitty to shriek.
Storm dropped from the sky marching towards the redhead. "That was uncalled for."
"Hey, it's war!" Jean exclaimed with a smirk.
Storm's eyes clouded white. "It is now."
"Wait, Storm!" Cyclops was racing towards her, sensing an impending fight. A muscular straight arm caught him across the chest, flipping him onto his back.
"Leave it, Scooter." Wolverine stood over him, arms crossed.
"Up yours, Wolverine. You weren't here last time. Storm damn near killed her."
"Good thing it was her then and not me. I would've." He strolled away, tossing the still blinking black orb at Cyclops. "Ya got ten seconds before boom, buddy. I suggest ya disarm."
Cyclops pushed the cancel button, following Wolverine towards the two women now facing off.
"We're supposed to be on the same team," Storm said. "All of us are X-men. There's no need for such animosity between us."
"Fuck you." Jean said.
"Alrighty then," Ali rolled her eyes. "Look, just cuz you're all pissy Storm got your man doesn't mean you have to be a bitch twenty-four seven."
Kitty coughed behind her hand covering a giggle. Jean glared at her. "Mind your business. I don't care what some trailer park reject thinks of me."
Ali's eyes narrowed.
Storm placed her hand on her friend's shoulder, focusing on the redhead across from her. "Jean, I warned you once about how you could talk to my friends."
Ali chuckled. "I say you give her another bitch-slap and refresh her memory."
Jean took an involuntary step backwards. "Touch me and I swear you'll regret it."
There was a distinct challenge in the air. "Really?"
Jean glanced at Cyclops and Wolverine, who were quickly approaching. He only married you because he felt betrayed by me. You're just a way for him to try and get back at me.
The air stilled, temperature dropping rapidly. "I don't think so."
Hit a nerve? A little insecure, Storm? Jean gave her a knowing look.
"No."
Mmm. He sure fucks good don't he? All growling and sweaty. Does he eat you out for hours too, or was that just me?
KRAKA-BOOM!
"Duck." Ali said as Wolverine stepped beside her. "The shit is about to hit the fan."
Wolverine ignored her, stepping beside Storm. He glared at Jean, wrapping one arm around Storm's waist. "Whatever she's saying to ya, baby, don't listen."
He would fuck me until I begged him to stop. Jean continued mercilessly. And then he'd fuck me some more.
The clouds began to roll together, darkening.
"Uh, Jean, whatever you're doing, knock it off." Warren said, staring up at the sky with genuine trepidation.
Thunder rolled, clapping with enough force to shake the ground. Storm's eyes were glowing faintly. Wolverine caught the faint scent of ozone hovering in the air.
He touched her cheek, turning her face to his, catching sight of the faint shimmer of unshed tears. He buried his fingers in her hair, pulling her face to his for a long, slow kiss. He moved his mouth against hers leisurely, uncaring of the crowd around them, only wanting to ease her pain. He parted her lips, pulling her fully against him, holding her tight. "I love ya, wife." he said in a low growl, loud enough for those closest to hear.
"Awww," Kitty sighed happily.
"Get a room," Jean grouched storming away.
"Not a bad idea," Wolverine said into Storm's hair.
Storm shook her head. "I have a meeting with Charles. I'll catch up with you all later." She brushed her mouth over his again. "Thank you"
Xavier's Office
Storm sat across from the mahogany desk, her hands clasped together. "…and you have a problem with it?"
Xavier sighed. They were discussing her and Wolverine's marriage. "It is just very unexpected."
Storm nodded. "Yes, it was, but it's done."
"Storm, he has a tendency to disappear for months on end. How will you handle that?"
"I'll manage." She leaned back, crossing her legs. "What's the real issue here, Charles?"
Xavier looked at her point blank. "He's dangerous."
"So am I." Storm shrugged. "As long as Wolverine's here, so am I," Storm stated, catching Xavier's attention. "He believes in your dream and is willing to fight for it. I'm willing to fight for him." The warning didn't go unnoticed by Charles.
Charles raised his brows. "Very well." He nodded. "Now, what was it you wished to speak with me about."
Storm drew in a deep breath. "The dreams have started again."
Xavier dropped the pen in his hand. "How long?"
"Since that day the inhibitors burnt out." She smiled a bit ruefully. "Looks like they aren't going to be enough anymore."
"I see."
"So…" she closed her eyes. "Call Forge, have him make the preparations."
A pained look crossed Xavier's face. "Storm…"
She opened her eyes, giving him a direct stare. "We knew this day might come."
Rolling from the desk to her chair, Charles took her hand in his. "Yes. We did." He squeezed her fingers.
Second Floor Hallway
Jean closed the door quietly behind her, walking into the dim bedroom. She made her way towards the bed against the far wall, pulling her shirt over her head as she did, discarding her bra. She was unbuttoning her green pants when a voice startled her.
"Jean."
Jean gasped, whirling around, peering into the dark corner. "Wolverine?"
He stepped from the shadows, broad chest and shoulders shifting as he stalked towards her, making her breath catch in her throat. How a man could make a black sleeveless tank so goddamn sexy was beyond her, but he did it. He made her quake with want just by looking at her.
He stalked her until her back was pressed to the wall. He kept coming until his well muscled chest rubbed against her rapidly rising and falling breasts. He placed one hand beside her head, the other catching her chin.
"Wo-Wolverine." Jean trembled beneath his fingers.
"Been a long time, Jeannie." He leaned his head in, sniffing, his breath brushing her lips as he spoke. "What's that I smell, Red"
Jean groaned, knowing he was scenting her rising desire. "You know," she whispered.
"Hnh." He ran the hand holding her chin down her neck, along her collar bone, cupping her breast, squeezing, his thumb teasing her nipple. "You like that?"
Jean was panting now. "Uhhn, yes." She lifted her hips off the wall, rubbing his thigh, riding his leg.
"Ya come up her fer old time's sake?"
"I know you still want me," she whispered. "You'll always want me."
"Jean…" He was so close now, she could almost feel his lips on hers.
"Yes…?"
-SNIKT- Two long claws shot into the wood on either side of her neck, the third extending very slowly until it pricked her pale skin, a thin line of crimson flowing. "You ever go near my WIFE again and I'll gut ya, ya fuckin' whore." His voice was a savage snarl, causing her shivers of desire to quickly chill into fear. His eyes glinted steel at her. "I was gonna let ya slide, let yer lies and deceit go. I was willin' ta just put it all behind me and move ahead. But ya had ta go and step across a line that I ain't gonna let no one cross." He growled. "No one.! Now I want ya ta get the fuck out of my room before I change my mind and slit ya open now."
Jean's lip quavered. "Why'd you marry her?" She asked before she could stop herself. "Why wasn't I enough?" Jean asked beseechingly.
Wolverine bared his teeth. "Ya want it spelled out? Fine. I married Storm because I love her. Because I ache fer her in ways that defy description, because every wakin' minute away from her is like slow torture. She is my other half. That's why I married her!" He shoved himself away from Jean, giving her a disgusted look. "You make me sick," he stated flatly.
Hearing words of love come from a man she had been certain possessed no heart and was incapable of love made Jean's stomach plummet. Reality was sinking in and she hated it. He didn't want her, he wanted Storm. Only Storm. He raised his claws. Jean gasped, crossing her arms over her bare chest, racing for the door.
Attic Loft
"Give me one reason not to barbeque you right now." Storm said, her voice dangerously soft as Wolverine finished recapping the events that happened earlier in his bedroom. He had finished packing his belongings after Jean had left and now they were packing up the loft. Deciding they needed to be away from the prying eyes of the Institute, they were moving down to one of the larger boathouses.
Wolverine grinned at her. "Ya love me."
"Hm. There is that I suppose. However, I suggest you drop to your knees and kiss my feet right now."
He chuckled. "If ya insist."
Storm's mouth twitched. "You will?"
He sauntered towards her, his arrogant swagger warming her heart. He pulled her into his arms, nuzzling her neck. "You bet. Then I'll kiss yer ankles,…" a kiss on her throat, "and calves," another, " and yer gorgeous thighs," the rough velvet of his tongue. "Then I'll make ya scream my name," he whispered huskily.
Storm sighed, content.
Wolverine pulled back slightly. "Yer the only woman fer me, Ororo, never doubt that. Now and forever."
"And you are the only man for me."
"Mmhm." He agreed, nibbling her ear. "I want ya, darlin'." He was unzipping her uniform top. "I need ya," he groaned, pushing his hands inside the stretchy material, cupping her.
Storm moved against him in sinuous motions, making him growl in pleasure. "I am yours," she whispered.
They never made it to the bed, consumed as they were, falling to the floor where Logan proceeded to make good on his words.
Rec Room/ Early Evening
Several students glanced uneasily towards the pool table in the corner of the room, where Storm and Wolverine were engaged in a game of eight ball. In the two years the fierce warrior had been a member of the X-Men he had never 'hung out' in the rec room, hell, more often than not he wasn't even on the mansions grounds, but here he was, drinking a beer watching his girl bend over the table to take her shot, an appreciative gleam in his hunter eyes.
He glanced up sensing stares and several eyes glanced guiltily away. He merely smirked. No feral growl, nor baring of teeth tonight. Marriage to 'Ro was like a good cigar, relaxing and invigorating, keeping him content. He glanced at the ring on her finger and felt his chest tighten. He was still amazed she had said yes. He had expected her to say no, to balk about them only knowing each other for a short time, only really together for a week, or hell, to tell him to go twiddle on his thumb, but she hadn't, instead she had laughed her beautiful, sultry laugh, asking, "Are you serious?" To which her had planted a thorough kiss on her delectable mouth and growled, "Very."
"It's your shot, hon." She was leaning against the table, one arm extended holding her stick at an angle against the floor. She was clad in low rise faded blue jeans and a lace toped pink camisole, and a cowboy hat, which he found unbearably desirable. Her new thin gold bracelet glittered under the hanging lights as she took a sip of her water. He had bought it for her today, along with the dangly lightening bolt belly button ring he saw peeking from beneath her shirt. He'd had the bracelet inscribed: For my beautiful Windrider, my loving wife and my best friend.
Ororo had been elated, her smile brighter than the sun. She had laughed then, pulling out a box from their closet, handing it to him. Inside was a very expensive and well made cream colored cowboy hat with a strip of black leather around the middle. He had been touched. In all the time that he could remember no one had ever gotten him a gift before. He had put it on immediately.
Ororo had smiled broadly, remarking how sexy he looked in her smoky bedroom voice. The hat had come off, along with all of their clothes as he made love to her on the couch in their new living room. He had called it christening the furniture, which had made her laugh, both of them looking around the boathouse at all the chairs and counter space they had.
He moved to the opposite side of the table, pushing the brim of his hat up, sinking two solids in succession. He winked at her as he pocketed the third. She smiled trailing her fingers on the green felt. She tilted her head, and he was captivated by her blue gaze under the shadow of his old cowboy hat. Vixen. "Darlin', ya keep givin' me those looks and I may have ta make proper use of this pool table."
No matter that he'd seen her naked countless times already and had kissed and licked every inch of her delectable body Ororo still flushed, a fact that Logan found endearing.
"Storm!" Kitty and Kurt entered the rec room.
"Hello, Kitten," Ororo greeted. "Kurt. What are you two up to tonight?"
"Not much." Kitty answered. "Thought about maybe a movie. Wanna join us?"
Ororo looked at Logan, who simply shrugged one shoulder, swigging off his beer, as if to say it was up to her. "What movie?"
"It's a toss up. Kurt has never seen any 'Star Wars', but I have a hankering for a good scary flick, Something to make me jump."
-SNIKT-
"Ah!"
Wolverine rolled his eyes. "That's done."
"Very funny, Wolverine." Kitty griped. She swatted his arm. "But, yeah if you want to join us, we'll be in the screening room."
"Not tonight." Storm handed Kurt her stick. "Tell you what, Crawler, take my husband to the cleaners and then we'll make a reign check to go watch a movie with you."
"To the cleaners?" Kurt asked, blue brow drawn, unfamiliar with the expression. "I'm sorry, sometimes my American is not so good."
Ororo nodded with a wry grin. "Don't worry, Kurt. American is a very difficult language occasionally mixed with English; it takes awhile."
"Oh."
"She wants us ta play," Wolverine supplied.
Ten minutes later Wolverine was muttering about what a great shark the elf would be. Ororo laughed, taking his hand. "Let's go for a walk," she suggested.
"Sounds good, darlin'."
The night air was humid and warm, an impending thunderstorm looming. Ororo inhaled deeply, savoring it. Logan leaned down, kissing her bare shoulder, interlacing their fingers. They walked in mutual silence towards the woods, both listening to the night sounds. They had only gone a few feet into the brush when Logan pulled her to a stop, moving to stand directly behind her, pointing to a rusty fox and her kits. Ororo smiled at him over her shoulder. They spent the next hour walking and listening, with Logan pointing out different animals in the night. Nocturnes like them.
When they reached a familiar clearing Logan sat onto the fallen log, pulling Ororo onto his lap, holding her against him. She went easily, laying her head on his chest, watching the stars twinkle above through the breaks in the clouds. She sighed heavily, feeling tired.
"Whatchya thinking, babe?"
"I'm not," she yawned. "I'm just relaxing."
Logan smiled into her hair, rubbing one hand up and down her back soothingly. She was soon sound asleep, her deep breathing stirring his protectiveness. He lifted her against his chest, carrying her through the woods, careful not to jar her, walking the two miles back to their boathouse with her cradled in his arms.
Once at their home he climbed the stairs to their bedroom and laid her on the bed, stripping her jeans from her body, pulling her camisole over her head. She barely stirred, lost in whatever dreams she was having. He tucked her in, kissing her lightly on the forehead.
Logan made his way back down stairs, removing his dark shirt, leaving his chest bare for the night air to caress as he stepped onto the porch, lighting a cigar. 'Ro never complained, but he didn't smoke in the house. He puffed into the stillness, his mind wandering over the past couple of days. Jean had thankfully gotten the hint and avoided him, and more importantly avoided 'Ro. He had gone nearly feral when Storm had finally told him the things Jean had been putting in her mind. He had been enraged and he had hurt for his wife, knowing he wouldn't have been able to picture her with someone else, much less live it and have it thrown in his face. Just the thought of anyone else touching 'Ro made his stomach turn. Fuckin' Jean. Vindictive bitch. He ground his teeth, gnashing his cigar.
He stood outdoors for several minutes, enjoying the stillness of the night and the quiet of the boathouse. No pounding music from the dorm rooms, no pattering feet in the hallway. It was a nice feeling. The thunderstorm in the distance was fast approaching and Logan crushed his cigar under his boot, going back in through the screen door. He went around the house, making sure the windows were closed, securing the latches. Once that was done he tied up the trash, taking it outside to the small dumpster.
Two figures were approaching. "Evenin', homme."
"Gambit. Alison."
"Howdy, Wolverine." Ali said. "Where's Storm?"
Wolverine looked back at the upstairs bedroom window. "Sleeping."
Gambit raised one eyebrow. "Already? Dat not like Stormy. Is she sick?"
Logan shook his head. "Not that I can tell. Just tired."
"Oh. We were going to see if you two wanted to go out to Harry's for a bit." Ali said. "You wanna?"
"'Ow 'bout it, homme."
Again Wolverine looked back at the window. He was nowhere near tired yet, and he knew 'Ro wouldn't mind. "Sure, Gumbo. Let me go leave a note fer Storm in case she wakes up."
Gambit nodded. "Let 'er know it'll be a late night," he suggested with his devil may care grin. "And put a shirt on."
Boat House
Upstairs bedroom
Midnight
Ororo knew she was dreaming, knew she was asleep, but couldn't wake up. She was deep in the woods, lost and alone, and surprisingly cold. Her teeth chattered, her hands were rubbing her arms frantically, trying to work some frictioned heat into her icy flesh. The snow whipped around her and she cried out in pain.
"It's only a dream, Storm. Wake up." She squeezed her eyes shut and when she opened them the world was gray, colorless and blurry.
Suddenly the colorless ground gave way beneath her and she was freefalling through empty space. She waved her arms wildly, trying to grab anything that may be hidden in the shadows. She landed with a hard jolt, dust and sand flying around her face. "What now," she grumbled.
She looked up from the dirt, staring open mouthed at the market surrounding her. She was home, in Cairo. Carts an people milled around, children ran barefoot through the streets. A wild dog sniffed at her face and she shooed it away. Ororo rose to her feet, feeling the warm rays of the African sun on her face, smelling the slight sickly sweet smell of rotted fruit. It all felt very real.
From behind she heard warm tinkling laugher and she stopped breathing. Slowly as to not shatter the images around her, Ororo turned. Her mother stood a few feet away, speaking with a local merchant, haggling over some fruit.
"Mama?"
The figure of her mother looked over at her. "Ororo?"
"Mama." Ororo reached out her hand.
Her mother recoiled. "Murderer! Murderer!" She was backing away from Ororo.
"Wait, Don't go!" Storm stepped towards her retreating mother. "Please."
"Evil child!" The smooth cocoa of her mother's face turned ashen, a wound appearing over her right eye, then another along her supple cheek. The wounds she had received the day Ororo's nightmare had tumbled their house around their heads.
"Mama, no. I didn't mean to…" Ororo was trying to move, but the sand below her was sifting, dragging her down, sucking at her legs, pulling at her. "Mama, forgive me!" Ororo was frantic now, trying to reach her mother, who had dropped to the ground, her vivid blue eyes glazing in death. Ororo screamed, and the more she struggled the further down it pulled her. The last thing she heard before her head was fully engulfed in the small granules was her mother's voice in her head, "Killer, murderer, destroyer. Accept your master, Ororo, only he can save you from yourself."
Ororo was panicking, unable to scream anymore or she'd have her throat flooded with dry sand. Darkness was all around and soon low male laughter echoed around her, surrounding her. "There you are, my beautiful child. There you are at last."
"Nooooo!"
Downstairs
Wolverine was just sliding the key in the front door when he felt the wind shift, the temperature dropping and the splattering rain turning into hail.
Above him he heard a soft thump and he froze. "'Ro?"
No response. Then the awful, familiar smell of blood.
"Fuck." He shoved open the door and took the stairs two at a time. He plowed open the bedroom door and his heart stopped. Ororo was on the floor, her back pressed to the mattress, a bloody blade in her hand, crimson coating her fingers, repeating the same thing over and over, "Dontlethinindontlethimindontlethimin."
"'Ro!"
She snapped her head up. "Logan?" She blinked a few times.
He knelt in front of her, taking her dagger from her fingers. "What happened?" she asked him.
"I was gonna ask ya the same thing." He turned her hands over, wincing at the sight of a deep gash on her right palm. "C'mon, darlin', we gotta clean that." He scooped her into his arms.
"I can walk," she protested. Logan made no response, making his way to the stairs.
"Logan, I can walk," she repeated.
"I don't care." He carried her into their small bathroom, flicking on the overhead lights, setting her on the edge of the tub. He opened the medicine cabinet, rummaging through gauze and alcohol.
Ororo heaved a disgruntled sigh. "I had a bad dream. It happens."
"Yeah and ya reached fer that goddamn dagger and nearly cut yer hand off. That's it, that thing comes out from under the pillows." He was firm. He took her hand, gently holding it over the tub as he poured warm water over it. Ororo hissed a bit but made no other complaint. Logan turned her hand, examining the wound. "It's deep," he said with a rumble. "Probably need stitches."
Storm shook her head. "It's fine. Just slap a band aid on it and call it good."
Logan gave her a frustrated glance. "We're at least wrapping the damn thing." He carefully applied a thin cotton pad to the center of her hand, wrapping gauze around her palm and thumb. When he was done he asked, "Do ya need anything fer pain?"
"No." Ororo stood. "I could use a glass of water though."
Logan grunted. "I'll be right back. Yer gorgeous ass had better be in bed when I come up."
"Yes, sir," Ororo muttered with a brief smile. He swatted her rear as she walked past him.
In the kitchen Logan ran the water until it was ice cold. He was taking deep, measured breaths, trying unsuccessfully to calm down. Seeing 'Ro covered in blood, knife in her hand had jarred him, shaken him to his very core. He knew he loved her, but that moment of frozen panic, something he had never felt before, made him realize how very much he loved her.
Storm was seated in bed, propped against the pillows when he returned. She smiled at him when he placed the water in her left hand. "Thanks, sweetie." She took a long drink, setting the glass on the nightstand.
He couldn't help but smile in return. He loved when she used endearments with him. He undressed and slid into the bed beside her, not missing the slight darkening of her eyes as she watched him. He reached around her shoulders pulling her close, into their familiar seating of her against his chest and his chin on her head. "Wanna talk about it?"
A deep shuddering sigh. "No." She turned in his arms, her lips grazing his whiskered chin, his collar bone. "I want to forget it, Logan. Help me forget…" Her tongue flicked against him, teasing one flat nipple.
He inhaled sharply, his body immediately responding to her, rock hard in an instant. He tangled his hands in her hair, trying to maintain focus. "'Ro, we can't just ignore yer dreams. They're happening- ugh- far too- oh God, baby- frequently."
Ororo murmured something incoherent against his chest, her mouth still playing with his nipples as her deft fingers locked around his turgid erection, stroking him. Ororo swung one leg over his muscular thighs, straddling him. Logan reached up, cradling her elegant jaw, pulling her mouth to his. She was in his arms, where she belonged but he wanted her to talk to him, to open up. To trust.
He had spent a majority of the night speaking with Gambit, learning as much about Ororo's past as he could. What he had learned made him value her faith in him all the more. Taken in by the LaBeau's at eight she was already an accomplished pickpocket, Gambit had told him. She was then taught the thieves trade, and had learned quick, breaking and entering, mastering carjacking. Gambit told him she had been withdrawn for a long time upon arriving to them, but soon she and he had developed a bond. Gambit referred to her as a little girl with an ancient soul, and Wolverine could see that was still true today. He had asked the Cajun more questions but Gambit had shaken his head, saying some things were up to Stormy to tell and others he didn't even know fully. "She ran away when she was sixteen, homme. Gone for six years, and I don' know nothin' 'bout dat time. Sometimes I t'ink she jus' wanna forget it all, mon frere. Maybe we should let 'er."
Now holding her to him, with her asking for his help in alleviating her nightmare, Logan allowed his lashes to drift down, his lips moving against hers in slow seduction. She wanted to forget and he wanted to remember, what a pair they made, he thought with bitter humor. He wanted to ease whatever tormented her, but he could not- would not- make her to tell him. If and when she did open up for him he wanted it to be because it was her decision, not one forced upon her.
An evil monster had taken her childhood, forcing her to witness acts of degradation and humiliation, forever scarring Ororo's perception on the world. Alone for years, trapped in a world he knew nothing about, a slave without freedom and unspeakable horror for one as free as she was.
Ororo moved restlessly in Logan's arms. "'Ro." there was an ache in his voice and her heart fragmented.
"Logan." She responded, shifting her body, raising herself so that she could position herself over him..
His hips raised off the mattress, meeting her halfway. This was a new experience for them, Ororo on top, in control. Logan growled low and deep as she began to move, slowly at first, but soon finding her rhythm. Her excited little gasps were wreaking havoc on him, making it nearly impossible not to garb her hips and flip her, but he enjoyed the sight of her on him too much. Her head was thrown back, long neck exposed, breasts moving as she rode him. She opened her piercing blues and he was lost, thrusting up against her, holding her hips and forcing her against him, grinding them together.
"Yes..ohhhh, yessss!" She arched her back, long nails scoring the crisp mat of hair on his chest. She flung herself forward, her head on his shoulder as tremors wracked her slender frame.
He rolled her then, moving in long, slow strokes, drawing out her pleasure. He kissed her fevered skin, moving over her neck, along her jaw, claiming her mouth. He had never been much for kissing, in the past he rarely did it, found it a waste of time and energy, but with his beautiful wife it was as intimate an act as sex itself. He teased the inner recess of her mouth with his tongue, rumbling as her tongue stroked against his. He suckled her lower lip, teased her upper one, no corner left unattended. His body rocked with hers in easy rhythm, cherishing her. He made slow, sweet, unhurried love to his wife, his mouth never leaving hers until hours later when his climax came and he roared with familiar blinding ecstasy, wiping out everything but the feel of her tight velvet wrapped around him and the swelling love he held for her in his heart.
Headmaster's Office
Morning
"Is he here?" Ororo asked, opening the heavy door.
Xavier nodded. "Forge arrived an hour ago. He's in the chamber now."
Ororo nodded. "Has he met Peter?"
Xavier shook his head. "Why do you ask?"
A small smile played with Ororo's mouth. "I think they'd hit it off."
The Professor gave her a humored look. "Playing match maker again, Storm?"
Ororo shrugged. She paced the room, touching the newly added plants with care. "I want to thank you for all you've done," she said after a minute. "I may not trust you, Charles, but that doesn't mean I don't like you. You have a good thing here. Possibly an unreachable ideal, but a dream worth fighting for, and I thank you for sharing it with me."
Charles cleared his throat. "Ororo--" It was the first time he'd used her given name since her arrival at the Institute and for some reason it made her want to cry.
"Okay then. Well, I have a combat session with Wolverine now, so I'll be off. See you later." She was gone in a flash, leaving Xavier staring at the closed door. Slowly he opened his locked drawer, pulling out a picture he had stored there. It was one of him during an excursion to Egypt that he and Eric had taken. He was standing at a vendor's stand, smiling at the camera, dressed in khaki shorts and top, archeological hat on his head, but it wasn't him that he was looking at. Behind him in the picture, standing out amongst the throng of people, a little girl with snow white hair and haunted eyes was reaching into some unsuspecting tourists pocket. He'd felt her that day, like a brush of butterfly wings against his mind and gone again, much like just now. He placed the picture on his desk, where he cold see it as he worked.
Danger Room
WHACK!
Storm hit the ground hard. Wolverine reached down, helping her to her feet.
"Ya all right, darlin'?"
"Yes." She flexed her back. "Again?"
Wolverine chuckled. "If ya insist." He took his stance opposite of her.
"So, what am I doing wrong?" she asked.
Wolverine studied her stance. "Yer projecting yer attack. I can read yer stance, I know which way yer coming." He moved behind her. "Here." He nudged her knee with his, bending it slightly. "Good. Now, ya feel the difference?"
Ororo shifted her weight back and forth. "Yeah, I feel looser."
"Gives ya a chance ta shift momentum, change attack if needed." He resumed his fighting stance. "Ok, come get me," he challenged.
Ororo moved swiftly, balanced on the balls of her feet. She maneuvered right, but changed direction at the last possible second, punching Wolverine straight in the throat, knocking the wind from him.
He took a step back. "Better," he wheezed.
Ororo smiled.
They continued for another hour, with her getting better each time, Wolverine noted with pride. She was adept at hand to hand already, but with his training she could probably give him a run for his money. They were sweating and panting when the buzzer sounded, notifying them that the Danger Room was needed by another group.
"Ya did good, babe."
Ororo panted. "Thanks. I still think you should teach a class on this. It would be invaluable for the other's to learn to fight."
"Hmph."
Ororo didn't push. She reached for his hand and he wrapped hers in his strong grip. "I'm famished," she said.
"Whattya in the mood fer?"
"Mmmm, grilled steak and potatoes and corn on the cob and maybe a fruit salad."
Wolverine chuckled. His wife could eat. "Sounds good."
"We should invite Ali and Gambit down for a barbeque."
He nodded. "If ya want. I'll run up to the kitchen and grab some stuff, then find the lovebirds and see if they wanna come by."
"Okay. Grab Kitty and Kurt if you see them too."
Wolverine grunted. "Yer pushin' it, darlin'. There's only so much cute and cuddly this ol' can knuckle head can take."
"They're fun, and besides they're family. I'll meet you at home." She leaned into him, kissing him sweetly knowing she would get her way.
"Vixen," he murmured, deepening the kiss. She pushed his shoulder laughing. "Go." she laughed.
She was making their way down the fluorescent lit hallway when she caught sight of Jean and Scott arguing outside the elevator. For a moment Ororo felt a pang of sympathy for the other woman, recognizing the look of love in the tearful green gaze of the spiteful redhead.
"I am not taking that animal's sloppy seconds!" Ororo heard Scott ground out.
Jean reached for him but he caught her hand and squeezed hard. "Scott, you're hurting me," Jean whispered.
He gave her a nasty smile. "After fucking that animal I'd think you'd be used to it by now."
Ororo's teeth clenched. A sharp blast of arctic air slammed Scott away from Jean and into the steel wall. She moved forward, eyes flashing. "One more derogatory remark about my husband, pretty boy, and I'll make you eat your visor."
Jean rushed forward. "Scott!"
Ororo caught the redhead around the neck with one hand, forcing her back against the wall. "No." She gave her an icy stare. "Let's get one thing settled here and now. I don't like you, Jean, but only because you make it damn near impossible to. I don't want to be your enemy any more than I want to be your friend. So let's agree that recent events are best left forgotten and move on."
Jean was silent. Ororo gave her throat a squeeze. Jean nodded.
"Good." Ororo let her go. She gave Scott a cold glance. "If you want to blame anyone for Jean yanking your chain so long, Cyclops, look in the mirror. You let her do it for so long it became habit. You love her, I can see it, so stop being a jackass and act like it." She moved past them.
"Storm." Jean called.
Storm paused but didn't turn.
"You're a better person than I am. I was wrong about you, and I'm sorry."
Storm cocked her head turning. "Apology accepted. However, Jean, you weren't wrong about me. I will kill anyone who attempt to screw with my husband." Thunder rumbled. "Have a nice day."
Boat house
"Gambit like da new digs, chere."
"Thanks, Remy." Ororo gave him a loving smile.
"You look happy." he commented.
Ororo's gaze wandered to the water's edge where Wolverine was preparing to toss Kitty from the dock into the lake. "I am."
Ali made sloppy kissy noises and Ororo threatened to fly her to the center of the lake and drop her. Ali laughed it off, turning on the cd player she had hooked up outside. Gwen Stefani's voice filled the air and Ali began dancing and singing with the music, stomping her feet and shaking her ass.
"C'mon, girl, don't leave me hanging!" Ali pulled Ororo off the lawn chair, and Ororo moved with her.
"Hey! You guys having a party?" Bobby Drake called. He and Warren as well as Peter and a new recruit named Betsy were making their way down the hill separating Wolverine and Storm's home from the Institute.
"We weren't." Wolverine growled, coming up behind Storm and hugging her back against him. It was still an unusual thing for the others to get used to. An affectionate Wolverine.
"Oh, ok man." Bobby backed up.
Ororo laughed. "Come on down," she called. "We have plenty of food."
As Peter lumbered towards them Wolverine whispered in her ear, "Ya sure about that, darlin'?"
She laughed, leaning into him. This was the life she'd always wanted. A home with friends and filled with love and laughter. She closed her eyes, tilting her head against Logan's shoulder, basking in the warm rays of the sun. No matter what her future held she would never forget this moment with the warm sky and the laughter of her family in her ears and the arms of her soul mate around her middle. Home.