"Ok," he says, wide eyed, mouth agape and standing in the urine stained shower water.
"Ok," she replies after realizing that was all he has to say. She closes the shower curtain, applying pressure to the back of the small suction cups so that they stick and leaves the bathroom, carefully closing the door.
He is unsure of how long he stands there, unable to manage even one somewhat coherent thought, it is as though he's standing there, completely paused. By the time the shock settles his shower water has gone cold.
"'Ro!" he yells, emerging from the bathroom, completely naked and dripping wet.
Where the hell did she go?
He dries himself with the shirt that he had worn the day before, hoping that the damage done is reparable.
Ok? He lambastes himself, he hasn't ever been very good with self expression but this was a total let down.
A tiny rush of sadness comes over him; not profound enough for him to give much notice but he wonders what Ororo must think. He is sure that she obviously has the wrong impression, he was shocked at first but he teems with joy at the notion of starting a family with her.
In his life there have not been many chances to mull a normal existence; his enemies, his calling, his past, all of these factors have exorcised any thoughts that lend toward having a wife and child. However, with Ororo, his worries are in the background; he completely gives in to the romantic idea of having children, being a father and living a long life with the woman he loves.
Happiness.
Ororo
Ok? Jean screams on the inside, suppressing her violent impulses.
She doesn't insult Logan to Ororo, she simply holds her friends hand in her own and listens to her talk about her worries and like a friend Jean reassures her, makes excuses.
Ororo's voice is murky, dark and hoarse with tears but she isn't one for histrionics; there aren't sobs accompanying her tears.
"Ororo," Jean says carefully, "you're being crazy; you just shocked him, that's all."
"Maybe," Ororo considers, wiping her runny nose on an embroidered handkerchief.
It is a possibility, Jean thinks, but what about after the shock passes.
"It's just that," Ororo says, pausing. "I feel so unloved."
She clears her throat, trying to conceal the crack in her voice.
Jean's eyes well and she leans in, hugging her friend and she can feel Ororo physically hardening herself against sobs, it's almost as though she's holding her breath.
She laughs, a practice in stoicism, and leans away.
"I'm being ridiculous," Ororo says, exhaling and smiling dismissively.
"Hey, it's your turn to be melodramatic," Jean says, laughing, wondering if she should be supporting Ororo's emotional staving.
Her powers obviously demand a measure of emotional control and she has seen what can happen without that control but, on a personal level, is the tradeoff really worth it?
She's the most caring human being I've ever known and she's muzzled.
Logan
Logan has been waiting in her loft for an hour, frustrated and although he doesn't know what he will say, he can't wait to say it. There's an amalgam of emotions surging through him, his apprehensions are ethereal but existent nonetheless. He wants to leave the mansion before she begins to show; he can't imagine raising his child in this environment, a freak among freaks, sheltered with no concept of reality or too real a concept of reality.
He wants his child to be naïve, he knows too well what enlightenment does to a person; he and 'Ro are products of the harshest circumstances. He wants his children to grow up with no concept of privation; he doesn't even want his child to know how to make a fist, least of all be a fighter. Although these people are the closest thing he's known to a family, he refuses to raise his child as an X-anything.
Ororo
They say goodbye and she leaves Jean's apartment, wondering what will be said when she gets home. A large part of her hopes that he isn't there while there is a conflicting fear of him not being there; she doesn't feel that she can address the issue but if he isn't there then she's fears that his choice has been made.
She open the door to her loft, carefully as though it were someone else's home and finds Logan sitting in the lazy boy recliner.
He stands abruptly, almost as though he were coming to attention and he stares at her, eyes wide and unable to be read.
He approaches her, his hands shaking lightly; he's never felt this vulnerable.
"Marry me?"
"No."
