Chapter 6: Tension Mounts
Headmaster's Office
Mid-Morning
"Unacceptable." Charles Xavier said with a scowl, pointing his index finger at Alison and Wolverine. "I gave specific orders that were meant to be followed."
"Yeah, well yer orders sucked." Wolverine snarled from where he stood, leaning against the wall on one shoulder, arms crossed in front of his black cotton clad chest.
"It is not part of your job to question my orders, Wolverine. It is your job to follow them. There were specific reasons I ordered you all to stay out of it, and now I'll be spending a majority of my morning explaining to General Fury why members of my school defied my orders and ultimately ruined a S.H.I.E.L.D priority one operation."
Wolverine grunted. "If Fury gives ya lip, ya tell him ta come see me, and we'll discuss who has priority when it comes ta my wife."
Ali stepped forward. "Look--"
"As for you , Alison," Xavier fixed her with a hard stare. "You have been suspended and reprimanded more times than I care to count. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't expel you from the school right now."
Ali lowered her head, strands of dark hair concealing her eyes, unable to think of anything to say in her defense.
"Ali goes, I go." Wolverine said, surprising both Xavier and Alison. Ali gave him a curious look, but said nothing.
Xavier frowned slightly. "Team loyalty is not something I have come to expect from you, Wolverine."
Wolverine shrugged. It had nothing to do with teams or the X-Men. He owed Ali, she was Storm's best friend and staunchest supporter. No way he was letting Xavier take that away from 'Ro. "I'm just full o' surprises."
Xavier nodded. "So it seems."
"If we hadn't gone, Cyclops could be dead right now," Alison said.
Xavier leaned back in his chair. "That is your only saving grace. You are both suspended from active duty for the next thirty days as a reminder that you are part of a team, not independent agents." He picked up the phone on his desk. "Good day."
Ali and Wolverine stalked out of the office, both muttering under their breaths. In the hall Wolverine turned to Ali. "Beer."
"Definitely."
Med lab
Storm strolled into the recovery room where Scott lay, a concerned look on her face. She was dressed in her favorite jeans and half shirt, her arms wrapped to her elbows where the wires had sliced her open. "You been here all night?" she asked Jean, who was seated beside the bed, holding one of Scott's hands, tear tracks on her pale cheeks.
Jean nodded, running her free hand wearily through her red hair. "I couldn't leave him," she whispered.
Storm handed Jean a cup of coffee. "Thought you might need this."
"Thanks." Jean took the mug with one hand, her other still clasped firmly to Scott's.
Storm slid the wheeled stool at the foot of the bed up towards the head, on the opposite side of Scott than Jean. "How's he doing?"
Jean smiled a little. "He's stable. Hank expects a full recovery…eventually."
Storm nodded, remembering the sickening sounds of bones breaking and Scott's tortured screams. She shivered involuntarily reaching out to brush a lock of brown hair from Scott's forehead.
"I saw you," Jean began before her throat clogged.
Storm looked up. "You saw me?"
Jean nodded, fresh tears shimmering in her emerald eyes. "In his mind. You wouldn't leave him."
Storm shook her head. "Of course not."
Jean snorted, a tear splashing her and Scott's joined hands. "That's not an 'of course not' for many people, Storm. You saved his life. Thank you."
Storm remembered the blood and the screams again, thinking to herself that Cyclops may not thank her for it. She nodded, silent, watching Scott's chest rise and fall, wishing she had been able to do more than watch as he was cut and maimed in front of her, his bones broken ruthlessly, his body ravaged horribly. Smith. Ororo closed her eyes, picturing the sick smile the man wore the entire time Scott screamed. Whatever Wolverine had done to him, it had been too kind.
"Why don't you go shower and change, Jean. I'll stay with him."
Jean looked reluctant.
"I'll leave myself open, Jean. If he wakes you'll know."
"Thanks." Jean knew how difficult it was for Storm to leave her mind unguarded, she had spent most of her life trying to prevent one of the most powerful telepath's in the world from getting in. She kissed Scott gently on his cheek before slowly making her way from the Med lab. The love the redhead had for their normally stoic leader was evident in her glittering green eyed gaze.
Once Jean was gone Ororo picked up Scott's hand. Cyclops may be an arrogant prick but he had shown her what he was made of, not caving into the pain and even at its most brutal his thoughts had been to protect her and the other X-Men. "I'm sorry I was so stubborn on the stakeout. If we had left sooner…" She lowered her head. "I'm so sorry, Scott." He groaned in his sleep, but didn't wake.
Jean returned fifteen minutes later, her hair still wet from her shower.
Ororo stood, heading for the door. "I'll be back later," she told Jean.
"Okay." Jean retook her bedside seat. "Oh, Storm?" Jean called after her.
"Yes?"
One hand stroked Scott's whiskered cheek. "It wasn't your fault."
Kitchen
"Unfuckinbelievable," Alison grumbled, slamming her beer onto the small table her and Wolverine were seated at angrily. "We fly to Colofreakinrado, to rescue--rescue!--our teammates and we get benched for the effort?" She snorted. "Priceless. Y'know I think Cueball's losing his grip on reality."
Wolverine grunted.
"Well said," Alison lifted her bottle in salute.
The double doors to the kitchen swung open and Warren strolled in looking like a blond Adonis, his golden hair shimmering in the sunlight. "Good morning," he greeted.
"'Sup." Ali returned.
Warren paused. "Are you drinking?"
"Naw, Fly boy, she's playing Parcheesi." Wolverine moved to open the fridge, pulling out two more bottles and a couple of cans. "What's it to ya?"
"It's ten in the morning."
"So, we started late," Wolverine said, popping the cap off his beer with a solitary claw and retaking the chair across from Ali.
"You could get in serious trouble, Ali," Warren said moving to Alison's side.
"Not really giving a shit right now, War. But thanks for the concern." Ali patted his arm.
Warren caught her hand in his. "Ali--"
"Der you be, petite. Gambit be lookin' everywhere for you." Gambit strode through the still swinging doors, a dark look on his handsome face. "I been searchin' all over da mansion for you, Ali."
"Well, you found me," Ali said with a half smile, taking another drink from her long necked bottle.
Gambit's red on black gaze flicked over Warren. It wasn't a friendly look. Wolverine sat forward, his interest peaked. There was some definite tension running between the Cajun and the Angel.
"C'mon, Ali." Gambit held his hand out for her. "Let's go for a walk, oui?"
Ali smiled widely. "Oui." She stood up and wrapped her arms around Gambit's neck. "A walk sounds nice, Yummy."
Gambit bent his head, his lips claiming hers in a searing kiss, uncaring that they had an audience. Or maybe, caring very much who was watching, Wolverine considered. Warren stormed from the kitchen, slamming the doors so hard they slapped the walls.
"What's up with , Winger?" Ali asked, looking at the doors.
"Don' matter, chere." Gambit ran his thumb over her moist lower lip. "All dat matter is you and me." He cast Wolverine a glance. "Where's Stormy?"
"She went ta check on Cyclops." Wolverine leaned his chair back, watching Gambit carefully. The taller man seemed edgy, almost anxious.
"Could you tell 'er dat I need ta talk t' 'er?"
Wolverine nodded, taking a swig from his beer, his dark eyes contemplative.
Gambit ushered Alison from the room, one arm locked securely around her waist, his head bent close to hers. Wolverine knew the stance well, it was both protective and possessive. Whatever was going on with Gumbo, one thing was obvious, the man had it bad for Alison.
"Wolvie!"
Wolverine couldn't prevent his smile at the sound of Jubilee's voice. She burst through the doors, and immediately Wolverine sat up, his smile turning into a scowl. Jubilee was wearing a pair of short cutoffs and a blue and yellow tankini top with sandals and shades, but it wasn't her appearance that caught Wolverine's attention, it was the boy hovering behind Jubilee, practically drooling.
"Drake," he growled, standing.
"Uh-hey, man." Bobby said, his familiar cock-sure smile making Wolverine want to punch him in his smug face. He had seen how Bobby had toyed with Kitty's emotions, how he'd played on his good looks and popularity to flirt with her until she had broken things off with Kurt, only to have Bobby give her the cold shoulder when she was single.
Jubilee plopped herself at the table. "Hey, Bobby, could you get me a soda?" she asked sweetly.
"Sure thing." Bobby practically jumped to the fridge.
Jubilee snapped her gum, pushing her sunglasses back through her short, dark hair. "What's got you so grumpy?" she asked Wolverine.
"I ain't grumpy," he said.
"Right, and is the sky purple in your world?"
"Don't get mouthy, kid."
"Aww, sorry, muffin," she gave him a goofy grin.
"Muffin?" Wolverine raised one dark eyebrow. "Careful, kiddo. I may let Storm get away with that, but not you."
"Get away with what?" Storm sauntered into the kitchen, she smiled at Wolverine.
"Calling Grumpy-buns here muffin." Jubilee popped the top on the can of soda Bobby handed her, taking a large drink, belching indelicately afterwards.
"You've been spending way to much time with Ali," Wolverine grumbled getting to his feet. "Hey, darlin'." He wrapped one arm across Storm's shoulders as she approached, noticing how sad her eyes looked even with her smile.
"Hey." She brushed his lips with her own, needing the contact. "How did the meeting with Charles go?" A low rumbling from Wolverine was her only response. "That good, huh?"
Storm.
"Speak of the devil," she said aloud so Wolverine would know Xavier was in her head. "Charles."
My office please.
"On my way." She gave him an apologetic look. "Looks like we'll have to catch up later." They hadn't seen each other since early in the morning, both having a lot to do.
"Looks like." He gave her a swat on the rear as she walked away, earning himself a micro shower directly over his head. "Nice, darlin'. Real nice." he said in mock anger. He turned with a snarl at Bobby's laughter. "And just what're ya grinning about, snowflake? C'mon, Jubilee, let's take a stroll," Wolverine yanked her out of her seat, flashing Bobby his teeth when the boy would've followed.
Loft
Gambit kicked the door shut behind them as he practically threw Ali into the bedroom, his eyes glowing faintly in his passion. He pulled his snug black tee over his head, tossing it across the room, uncaring where it landed. "I wan' you so bad," he rasped, pulling Ali to him, yanking her clothes off hurriedly.
"Remy?" Ali was all for aggressive sex, but this was different, Gambit's movements were almost desperate.
"Don' talk," he said covering her mouth with his, hugging her close. "Jus' let me love you, Ali." He cradled her hips, holding her tight as he rubbed himself against her, making her gasp. Remy's lips moved across her chin, down her neck, across her bare shoulders, down her tattooed arms, until he reached her hands where he kissed each finger. He kneeled before her, pulling her against him, his face pressed against her stomach, his arms wrapped tight around her. His breathing was labored, erratic…afraid.
Ali cradled his head in her arms, concern touching her aquamarine eyes. She webbed her fingers through his thick hair, whispering how much she loved him.
Gambit raised his head taking in the sight of her. Merde. She was unlike anyone he'd ever known. Her dark locks falling in wild disarray around her smooth peaches and cream face, her light eyes glittering down at him, her lips rosy from his kisses. She was damn adorable. A dark elf. Standing a little over 5'3" Ali was small, but powerful, with a slender frame, and delicate features that made her tough demeanor seem so much more endearing and intimidating all at once.
Ali felt Gambit shaking, felt his shudders, he was holding her so tight she couldn't breathe. "I love you too, Remy," she assured him as he whispered the endearment over and over in broken English and French.
"Forever, chere?"
She gave him a puzzled look. Forever was not something her and Gambit spoke of. They lived in the here and now. Two of a kind, energetic and carefree. She brushed her lips against his. "What's wrong, Rem?"
He stroked her cheek. "Is it so 'ard t' say da words, ma petite? Forever?"
Ali shrugged, "Not hard to say, no." She eyed him speculatively briefly, and Gambit refused to meet her gaze head on. Feeling uncertain Ali pulled away from him. "What aren't you telling me?"
"Nuttin, chere."
"I need to pee," she stated lamely. Gambit gave her a questioning look, but backed away from her so that she could get to the bathroom. Once the door was closed behind her she sank onto the edge of the bathtub, running one hand through her wild hair. Something felt amiss. She loved Gambit, loved everything about the Cajun charmer, but he was acting odd. He was the one who had told her that tomorrow was tomorrow, that today was all that mattered. So, why the forever? The desperate feeling she got from him? What had changed? She stood, running the water, splashing her face.
In the bedroom Gambit watched the closed bathroom door with dark eyes. He sat down on the bed, pulling open the drawer in the bed stand, reaching for his cigarettes. He inhaled deeply, letting the white cloud out on a slow breath. He heard the shower start and sighed. He had caught her off guard, he knew, but he had been unable to help himself. The idea of losing Alison made him physically ill. He took another drag of his cigarette, his eyes flashing red even in the light.
Xavier's Office
"Define 'suspended'," Storm said, her voice like ice.
Charles steepled his fingers, resting them against his chin. "It means no active duty for thirty days. They can train with the team, they can participate in meetings, but no active assignments."
"Why? Because they risked their necks to save me and Scott?" Storm stood, hands planting on the desk in front of her.
"No. Because they defied a direct order, Storm. The X-Men are a team. What Alison and Wolverine did, should it go unpunished would only encourage that type of behavior from the other, less experienced students. It's a behavior I can not condone and as Black squad team leader, you shouldn't either."
Storm huffed, knowing that he was right, but hating to admit it, so she remained stoically silent. "What else?"
Charles was silent for a moment. "Being a leader means having to deal with issues and…complications, that often skew perception, without allowing them to do so. I have the utmost faith in you as a capable leader, Storm, which is why I feel you should know that I will be transferring leadership of Red squad over to you as well for the duration of Cyclops's recovery."
"Is there no one on his team capable of running it?"
"Jean or Beast would be the next most qualified, but Jean is an emotional wreck and though Henry is highly intelligent, his leadership skills are not where I need them to be to run a smooth team." Xavier took out a small electronic device. "This was Scott's schedule and planner. Take a look at it, and see if you can work out a training schedule for both teams."
Storm took the PDA. "Anything else?'
Charles smiled at her brusque tone. "Yes. Could you give this to Wolverine. I believe he will find the contents useful." He handed her a sealed manila envelope.
Storm took the envelope, feeling a small object sliding around within it. "What is it?"
"A piece of his past I believe." Xavier nodded at her. "You are dismissed."
Pool
Jubilee laid back in the lounge chair, sipping her iced tea and watching Bobby dive from the high dive. He sure was cute, she thought with a wider smile.
"Cut it out." Wolverine growled at her. "Yer too damn young."
Jubilee gave him a disgruntled look. "Who made you my Pappy?"
"I did. Now shut yer yap and listen to Pappy Logan." He opened another beer, seemingly oblivious to the open mouthed look she was giving him. "What?" he asked grouchily when she continued to stare.
"You…you just told me your name," she whispered.
Wolverine paused for a second, cocking his head. "So I did. Huh." He rustled her hair. "Don't tell nobody." he growled in pseudo threat.
Jubilee grinned so big he could make out all of her teeth. Without warning she threw herself into his arms, resting her face against his bare chest, nearly knocking him out of his lounger. She pulled herself back hurriedly, straightening her glasses and replacing her grin with a semi serious expression, trying her damndest to look nonchalant. "Yeah, that's cool."
Wolverine smirked drinking his brew.
"Mind if I join you?" Betsy Braddock strolled along the side of the pool, her lithe form clad in a very skimpy bikini, her high, firm breasts nearly spilling out of the dark purple top. She lowered the see-through sarong tied around her waist and took the chair beside Wolverine.
Wolverine grunted, his eyes flicking over her with male appreciation. Jubilee elbowed him in the side. "Married, remember?" she hissed at him.
Wolverine scowled at his dark haired sidekick, rubbing the spot she hit. "I remember." he growled. Jubilee was nuts if she thought Bets had anything on 'Ro.
"I could use some help with this sun block." Betsy held out a bottle of Coppertone.
"Try wearin' clothes. You tend not to burn as much," Jubilee said with snap of her bubblegum and an angry frown.
Betsy ignored her. "Give me a hand, Wolverine?"
"Sure, Bets." He took the bottle from her, squeezing a liberal amount onto his hands, rubbing it into Betsy's back and shoulders.
"Mmm…You have great hands." Betsy gave a soft moan, leaning forward and moving her hair to the side. "Has anyone ever told you that?"
"I tell him that all the time."
Wolverine turned, flashing Ororo a wolfish smile that froze on his face at the sight of her in her swimsuit. Goddamn, his wife was fucking hot. She stood, clad in a soft pink two piece, barefoot with one hand on her hip, looking at him through dark shades, one silver eyebrow raised above the rims. Her mane of snow colored hair hung loose down her back and her deep caramel skin shimmered in the sun. Wolverine finished up Betsy's shoulders, wiped his hands on his black shorts and pulled Storm into his arms. "Wife."
"Mm. So you remembered you have one?" she teased.
For a moment Logan's eyes left hers, and a subtle tension filled his body. He shook himself and ran his hands along her back. "How was yer meeting?"
"Ugh. Let's not talk shop this afternoon."
"Fine by me." Wolverine sat, pulling her down onto his lap.
"Hi, Betsy," Ororo greeted.
"Storm." Betsy rolled onto her stomach, closing her eyes.
"Hey there, Jubes," Ororo said with a smile.
"Hiya, Strom." Jubilee grinned. "Don't worry, I was keeping him in line."
Storm lifted her glasses and winked at Jubilee. "Much appreciated."
Wolverine nuzzled the back of Storm's neck. "I missed ya," he whispered.
Ororo leaned back into him, holding his arms as the circled her waist. "I can tell," she whispered back. She reached down alongside the chair to where she dropped her bag. "Charles gave me this to give to you." She handed him the envelope.
Without thinking Wolverine sliced it open, a gold band falling onto the ground, tinking against the cement. Ororo bent to retrieve it, frowning as she recognized it as a wedding ring. She held it out to him, questions written all over her face.
Boathouse
Ororo sat quietly, her eyes following her husband as he paced the living room carpet, running one hand through his wild hair. He had just finished filling her in on everything that Xavier had told him, and his recent dreams. "Well," he prodded. "say something."
"What would you like me to say, Logan?" Ororo tilted her head, fighting the urge to smile at his consternation. He looked really ruffled.
Logan stopped directly in front of her, crouching and grabbing her hands in his, his thumb absently stroking the wedding band around her finger. "This doesn't change anything, 'Ro. Yer still my wife." He cradled he jaw. "My only."
"I know."
"So I don't want ta hear--" He paused. "You know?"
She nodded. "Logan, how many times do we have to go over this? For better or worse? Death do us part? Yadda yadda…?" she waved her hand vaguely. "Honestly, sometimes I think they fused your brain with adamantium as well."
"Yer taking this rather well."
"What did you expect? Screaming? Wailing? I was there the day Wraith told you that you'd been married before. He had his friggin' arm wrapped around my neck, he was right in my ear." She kissed the palm against her cheek. "I love you, and I'm here for you. Through it all, Logan, even this. I am slightly miffed that you wanted to keep this from me, but I can understand why."
Logan was silent for a minute watching her. She didn't seem upset, he couldn't smell it on her, didn't feel it. She was relaxed and smiling at him, her blue eyes shimmering with tenderness and love. "I don't deserve ya," he rumbled quietly and very sincerely.
Ororo's face became pseudo serious. "I know."
Logan tugged on her hands, yanking her from the couch into his lap with a playful growl. He cupped her ass in his hands, rolling his hips up into hers, bringing forth tiny sounds of pleasure from his sexy wife. "Ya amaze me, 'Ro."
"I try," she teased. She circled his neck with her arms laughing down at him, letting him know without words that they were strong, secure.
He shifted her so that her legs were wrapped around his waist, his erection rubbing against her through his shorts and her bathing suit. She licked her lips and he groaned. -SNIKT- Her top and bottoms were cut off with hurried flicks of Logan's wrists.
"You're always slicing my clothes off," she said breathlessly.
"Then stop wearin' the damn things," He gazed down at her supple form and his breath caught. "Yer so beautiful." Logan groaned the words, constantly amazed at how perfect she was, how undeniably exotic and erotic she was. She was so uninhibited with him, free to be herself, showing him how much she wanted him, showing him her heart.
She looked at him through smoky eyes. "You make me feel beautiful."
"Let me show ya how beautiful ya are." With infinite tenderness, Logan leaned her back against the couch, and proceeded to make passionate love to her.
Forty minutes later, Ororo's sultry, breathless laugh tickled his ear. "If this thing between us gets any stronger, we may not survive."
Logan lifted his head from the hollow of her throat. "I'll die a happy man," he said brushing her lips tenderly.
"Mmm." Ororo hugged him tight, wrapping her entire body around his.
Their phone was ringing.
"Ignore it," Logan grumbled, licking her collar bone.
"It could be Jean," Ororo said. "I told her to call if Scott woke up."
Reluctantly Logan rolled off of her, allowing her to go to the phone. "Hello?"
"Hey, Stormy."
"Hi, Ali."
"Um, if you two are finished, could you make the rain stop, you're killing the BBQ."
Storm glanced out the window, noticing the rain pouring from the sky, a smile on her face. "Sorry." Instantly the clouds dissipated and the sun lit the afternoon sky, a rainbow shimmering over the Institute.
"Nice touch. You guys on your way up?"
"We'll be a little late." Ororo said, noticing the heated look Logan was giving her as she stood naked in the kitchen.
Ali laughed and hung up the phone.
Logan stretched with animal grace, his smile darkly sensual. "C'mere."
Ororo felt her insides melt. The man was insatiable and she was only too happy to fulfill his every need. She walked towards him slowly, her eyes locked with his. She stopped a few feet away from him. "Tell me what you want," she asked huskily.
"You." he growled.
"How?"
Logan leaped to his feet, stalking her. "Everyway."
Ororo smiled as his strong arms encircled her. "We're going to miss the barbeque," she murmured.
"Don't care," he said.
Much Later
Ororo crossed her legs under her terry cloth robe, leaning over the papers in front of her. On the table was a copy of a marriage certificate, the gold wedding band, an army record and a few old photographs. Logan came up behind her, kissing the exposed nape of her neck, inhaling her freshly cleansed scent. He pulled the towel wrapped atop her head off, running his fingers through her damp tendrils.
"How long you gonna stare at those?" he asked quietly.
"Until it starts making sense." Ororo tousled her hair. "According to this, you're like eighty years old."
Logan took the chair beside her and turned it, straddling it with his arms resting on the back. "Give or take," he agreed. "Maybe older. Chuck thinks my healin' factor keeps me from aging like a normal person."
Ororo nodded. "Makes sense." She flipped the army record over. "James Howlett." She picked up the ring. Inscribed on the inner circle of the band was a message: To James with all my love. Ororo gave him a slanted look. "James?"
"Apparently."
She was quiet.
Logan reached out and tucked silver strands behind her ear. "Hey. I'm still Logan." he said gently.
"James, Logan, Wolverine." She listed his names, silently wondering how many others he had. "What do I call you?"
"Husband." he said firmly. "The name doesn't matter, 'Ro, so long as I know I'm yours."
She touched his face reverently. "My Logan."
He felt his breath leave him in a rush. He had hoped she would chose that name. That was who he was with her. Logan. Her Logan. Her mate. James was dead, as far as he was concerned, and Wolverine was who he was at work. But in his dream Mariko had called him Logan-san. So he had been with her after he had lost James? He frowned.
"What is it?"
"In my dream. Mariko called me Logan-san."
Ororo flipped through the limited military papers Xavier had so far been able to acquire. "What was her last name again?"
"Yashida."
Ororo halted briefly, then left the table, taking the stairs up to their room.
"Ororo?" Logan called from the foot of the stairs.
She reappeared a moment later, Scott's PDA in her hand. "Catch me." She leapt from the top of the stairs, using her powers to slow her descent. Logan caught her in his arms, holding her tight, kissing her thoroughly.
"What's that?" he asked, slowly lifting his head, gesturing to the PDA in her hand.
"It's Scott's." She turned it on. "You can put me down now."
"I could." Logan sat down on steps, still holding her. "But I won't."
Ororo scanned the list of contacts. "Here." She turned the screen so that Logan could see it. "Shiro Yashida, a mutant from Japan, codenamed: Sunfire."
Logan was surprised, but uncharacteristically cautious. "It could be a dead-end, darlin'. It's not like there's only one Yashida family-- Where are you going?" Ororo had scooted from his lap, making her way back into the kitchen.
"I'm calling Shiro Yashida." Ororo picked up the phone.
Logan was beside her instantly, his hand closed around her wrist as she dialed. "No."
"Why not?"
Logan gently wrested the phone from her and put it back on the wall. "I…" he floundered. "Just not now."
Ororo hugged him. "It's okay." She stroked his back. "When you're ready."
Xavier Institute
"Hi, Ali!" Kitty smiled, bouncing over to where Ali was lounging on the leather couch, bag of potato chips on her lap, one booted foot propped on the table in front of her.
"Howdy, Kit-Kat," Ali greeted as Kitty entered the rec room.
"Everything all set for tomorrow?"
Ali nodded. "Yep."
"Wolverine's gonna flip."
"That's the idea."
Kitty plopped down beside Alison, her pony tail bobbing. "It went by so fast!"
Alison was silent.
"You ok?"
"Hunky-dorey." Ali stood, handing the bag of chips to the younger girl. "I'll catch ya later, Kitty. I gotta get some air."
BAMF
"Where's Alison going?" Kurt asked, his eyes glowing from his teleportation. "I had hoped to talk to her."
"Dunno." Kitty said with a shrug. "What are you up to tonight? Going out with Amanda?"
Kurt looked away. "Nein."
Kitty sat up. "What's wrong?"
"Amanda and I are no longer together."
Kitty frowned. If that witch had hurt Kurt, there would be sooo much hell to pay! Like she had room to talk, she mentally scolded herself. She had hurt him first and callously. "Wanna talk about it?" she asked.
Kurt shook his head. "Not much to talk about."
"I'm sorry," Kitty said lamely.
"For what? You didn't break us up."
Kitty stood. "For everything, Kurt." She touched his shoulder. "I'm sorry that I hurt you, and I'm sorry that you're hurting now. Maybe if you talk to her…"
Kurt gave another shake of his head. "You misunderstand, Kitty. Amanda did not end things. I did."
Kitty was surprised. "What? Why?"
Kurt gave her a steady look that made her knees tremble. "I could not pledge my heart to her when it still beat for another." BAMF
Kitty collapsed to the couch, her heart hammering. "Dang."
Courtyard
Ali kicked the gravel at her feet. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with Gambit and it bothered her. She should be thrilled that he was so attentive, and part of her was, but it was the underlying desperation she felt from him that bothered her. His fear. Was he in trouble? Was he sick? That thought made her clutch her stomach. She'd die if anything happened to her Yummy.
"Nice night."
Ali looked over her shoulder to see Warren gliding towards her. "Hey, War."
Warren landed a few feet away from her. "You look down."
"When don't I?" Ali said with a shrug. "It's part of my shtick. Punker, y'know."
"I thought Punker's were supposed to look pissed and Goth's were supposed to look depressed." Warren said with a half smile.
"War, you pay attention to music-types?" Ali teased.
Warren stepped in front of her. "I pay attention to a lot of things, Alison."
There was no mistaking the gleam of attraction in his eye or the subtle shift in his tone. "Oh. Uh, hey, Warren. You're gorgeous as all get out, but…"
"But you are taken?"
"Very." Ali confirmed. "And not your type."
Warren stretched his wings. "And what 'type' is that?"
"You know. Pompass, rich, groomed, supermodel gorgeous--"
"You are gorgeous," he interrupted. "Deserving to be loved by someone worthy of you."
Ali took a step back. "War. You're my friend, and I'd like to keep it like that, but you start talking shit about Gambit and that ends. We clear?"
Warren nodded, his jaw tight. "I'm sorry." He flapped his wings and took off. Something about the way he said the words was unsettling. Like he meant so much more than apologizing for hitting on her. Damn. Was everyone going to confuse her?
"Ali!" Gambit's smooth drawl reached her. She turned in time to see him leap from their balcony and stride towards her, his gaze moving between her and the retreating Warren. "What'd 'e want?" he demanded. "What'd 'e say t'you?" He gripped her arm tightly.
"Nothing. He just saw me walking and said hi. What's wrong with you?" she yanked her arm away, rubbing where his fingertips had pressed.
Gambit exhaled a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, chere." He pulled her gently back into his arms. Even though he was a full foot taller than her she molded to him like she was made for him. She was, he thought. His. He lowered his mouth to hers, lingering over her lips, sliding his tongue across the seam of her mouth, begging for entry. Ali moaned, leaning into him, allowing him in. Gambit pulled her tighter against him, and Alison could feel the tremors running through his body.
"Rem, please, what's wrong?" She stepped back, touching his face.
"I'm wit' you, bella. What could be wrong?" He kissed her again, searing her lips with his, wiping any further thought from her mind. "Come, chere. Let me take you t' bed and show you 'ow much Gambit love you." He held her close. "You love me, Ali?"
Ali stared into his red on black eyes questioningly. "I love you, Rem. Nothing will ever change that." she said, confused by his uncertainty. Gambit was the most charmingly overconfident man she knew. No way was Warren upsetting him this much.
"Come wit' me, chere," he was tugging her towards the mansion.
Ali followed, her light eyes dark with questions.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by Marvel Characters, Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.