Androids and Bad Boys

"You gotta be outta yer mind, Gumbo." Logan stared after Ororo as she made her way, as quickly as she could, to the other side of the courtyard.

"What give y'dat idea, Wolvie?" Remy asked, his eyes glued to Storm as well.

"Don't act dumb, bub. You know what I'm talkin' about. You've gotta be the only idiot here that would turn that down," he said, nodding to her receding form, " 'Specially, when she's throwin' it at ya."

"Remy ain't catchin' a damn thing a seventeen year old throwin' at him."

"That's what yer problem is. She'll be eighteen in like six months, you can't just mess around until den?"

"You t'ink you could do dat, homme?"

"No way in hell," Logan answered, not even letting Gambit finish the question, "You can only say 'no' so many times."

"Exactement. Until dem six months is up, she the plague." He sighed, throwing his head back and gritted his teeth. "Merde. She ain't makin' it easy, dats f'sho."

Logan laughed, hardly sympathizing with his friend. "You won't last a week."

-break-

Storm sat in her room for hours, reliving the embarrassment over and over from that afternoon. She shook her head, none of it made any sense. Remy should have been putty in her hands by now. He wanted her—that she was sure of. He was always watching her when he thought she wasn't looking, his body language, although hardly visible, was always stiffer when she was around him, and she had more than once heard her name mentioned among his circle of friends. Something wasn't adding up. She looked at herself in the mirror; her makeup now cleaned from her face and her outfit much more comfortable, and decided that she had had enough humiliation.

It was time to go in for the kill. She just had to figure out her next move.

She nearly jumped out of her seat when she heard an extremely firm knock on the door and looked at the mirror again. She cursed herself for pulling her hair back so sloppily and changing into sweatpants. There was no way she'd snag Gambit if he caught her in such an undesirable state. The knock sounded again and she whined pitifully before quickly tying her shirt in a knot. She'd have to be content with just showing a little tummy.

-small break-

Scott looked up when Ororo finally opened the door. He had spent all day trying to read, but being nagged by his conscious. He still believed he had been completely justified in his spat with Storm, yet his thoughts kept being involuntarily dragged back to her. He couldn't afford to be distracted by guilt when he had a motorcycle to repair and reading to do, so he decided to attempt an apology. He sighed inwardly, thinking of the peace and quiet that he was robbing himself of by committing this act.

"I didn't think you were up here. I—" His words were cut short and he was temporarily blinded when Storm's small, yet well aimed, fist connected with his nose as heavily as a fully grown man's.

Storm watched as Cyclops' head flew back and he stumbled slightly, and rolled her eyes when he pinched his nose and continued with his head slightly elevated.

"I realized that my words upset you earlier today so I decided to come apologize."

"Then get to it." She barked.

"Do you think I could get some tissues or someth—"

"NO."

"Storm, be reasonable, please. You've hit me and cursed me out already, now could you please let me in so we can talk?"

Storm stood silently and fumed while he stood with his face toward the ceiling and groaned before letting him in. Gesturing for him to sit on her bed, she retreated into the bathroom and fetched him some Kleenex for his nose.

"Okay, what did you have to say, Scott?" She spoke the question with the least bit of interest.

"I saw how angry you were with me when you slapped me and walked away this afternoon;" He sighed, "And while I still completely stand by my logic, I recognize that my word choice could have been less abrasive."

Storm gave him an incredulous look. It was beyond her how cold and detached Scott was, even dealing with the most sensitive situations. He was incapable of even forming the words "I'm sorry." Instead of admitting that he had hurt her feelings and that he wanted her to forgive him for doing so, he had to distance himself emotionally by instead saying that he was aware that 'his words' had caused her to become upset with him, so he 'decided' to come apologize to her. She sighed.

"Right," She said, standing, "Okay, Scott, thanks. Goodnight." Scott watched her as she stood and removed the tissue from his nose.

"Wait, Storm, don't kick me out, please."

"Why the hell shouldn't I? You called me a tramp and you can't even say that you're sorry!"

"I said that you were dressed like a tramp, not that you were one. And technically—"

"I don't wanna hear it, Scott. Get out."

"Ororo," Scott sighed, standing, "I don't think you understand how difficult this is for me."

"Obviously it must be incredibly so. You're still in my room."

"Just listen to me, Storm, please." He pleaded. She folded her arms, waiting impatiently for him to continue. "You should know better than anyone how annoyed I am by your endless rambling and…general…giddiness, and how I would much rather have you not speak to me at all—ever."

Storm's eyebrows creased, hearing his explanation.

"But as much as I would prefer that, I want for you to stop talking to be because you find it logical to do so, not because you're angry with me. Otherwise, my conscious will keep eating away at me daily until I'm completely unable to function. Understand it's entirely more convenient for you not to be mad with me."

"What's your point, asshole?"

"I need for you and me to go back to where we were." He answered honestly. At that statement, Storm's anger fell away from her, and she could only shake her head at her surfacing headache. "Tell me what I have to do."

Storm unfolded her arms and exhaled deeply. "Fine. I'll take you back."

Scott scoffed at her choice of words.

"Of course, there would have to be a few conditions…"

"Fine. What are the conditions?"

"I want another apology. A real apology: complete with at least one grammatical error, contraction, slang term and swear word. And 'hell' doesn't count."

Scott ran a hand through his neat hair before reluctantly complying, "I'm real sorry about tryin' you earlier like a asshole…it was foul. I was outta line, and that's my bad…for real." He choked out, hearing Storm's sniggering erupt into a laughing fit. He could feel his face begin to redden deeply.

"I would very much like to leave, now."

"Not so fast. One more condition."

"What?"

"Hug me."

"…That's a joke, right? Tell me you're kidding."

"Nope." Storm replied.

"Storm, come on!"

"I deserve a freaking hug, Scott, and damn it you're gonna give me one NOW!"

Scott looked around the room helplessly, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw before nodding, accepting that he had brought this upon himself by offering. Storm smiled before wrapping her arms around his shoulders and squeezing him closer. Scott's body stiffened beyond movement and his face contorted into a frown feeling her so close against him.

"It doesn't really count until you hug me back, you know." She said. Scott pursed his lips, forcing his arms away from his sides and raising his hands painfully slowly. Seeing that they were beginning to shake, he patted her lightly on the back before tossing her to the side and dashing toward the door. Storm fell over onto her bed and grinned confusedly watching him leave.

"Alright, I'm glad we could work this out. Good night!" He mumbled quickly before slamming the door behind him, leaving a howling Storm alone in her room for the evening.

TBC