Chapter 5: Storm Clouds

Storm looked out at the groomed lawns beyond the wide, fat leaves of one of the many tropical ferns surrounding the large picture window of her expansive, upper level, corner room. She had just finished hearing a report about how, once again, the X-Men's peaceful intentions had been compromised by unreasoning human brutality. Kurt and Logan were sitting on the couch across from her, transformed by casual attire from soldiers into men; Kurt's painfully pinched black eye, though, recalled the battle. As she turned to regard them, Logan met her gaze while Kurt stared down at his hands. Ororo took a moment to contemplate the two men sitting before her, so different and yet, she knew, so much the same. Both of them felt so deeply but their coping strategies were different. Though she knew it was a minority view, Ororo considered Logan's ways of coping with stress healthier because they were something she could understand—he dealt in actions. But Kurt, beneath his everyday congeniality, his overt tenderness and warm smiles, tended to bury his conflicts within himself; despite Logan's notoriously long and mysterious past, on an emotional level it was really Kurt who was the greater mystery.

"Sounds like you did what needed to be done," she told them. "It's not quite the public relations coup we were hoping for, but Logan's clout with the Canadian government will likely smooth things over. It's regrettable, but good job anyway."

"Thanks 'Ro. I better take off, said I'd give Cyke a hand with that new jalopy of his. See you around."

"I should be going as well," said Kurt, though he waited until Logan had already closed the door behind him before rising.

"Kurt, wait."

Ororo walked toward him; Kurt turned just halfway around to face her, as though to indicate that he really was in a hurry.

"What is it?"

"Is everything okay?"

"It's nothing, it's fine," he assured her unconvincingly, though genuinely wishing to spare her from the troubled thoughts that, when he stood before her, began to seem so utterly childish. "No," he started again, turning all the way round to face her and sighing deeply. "No, it really is fine. I'm just tired. Really."

"Kurt…" She reached up and cupped the uninjured side of his face with her hand, her fingers feeling the still-damp edges of his blue-black hair while her thumb traced the velvet-soft edge of his pointed ear.

Kurt closed his eyes, equal parts savouring and steeling himself against her touch. He finally reached up his own arm to disengage her hand.

"It really is nothing."

"If it was nothing you wouldn't want me not to touch you."

"I…"

And then her body was suddenly very close to his, the curve of her breasts, unencumbered beneath her scarlet wrap, just gazing his chest at the triangle of sleek fur left exposed by his low-buttoned henley. Kurt felt a mixture of warmth and anguish wash over him. His muscles felt tight and twisted on his bones that seemed to creak with every tiny movement.

"Yes, Kurt?"

But she would never make the first move. And Kurt, for his part, was virtually incapable of doing so. Not only was Ororo one of his closest friends, she was also team leader, and besides that, Kurt couldn't completely erase a fear he harboured that to admit his own desire would be a fundamental breach of trust. Whatever Ororo's body might seem to imply, Kurt knew her sensuality was a part of her nature, so that jumping to conclusions could be dangerous. Kurt was paralysingly afraid that presuming her body language to be any kind of sexual advance might irreparably damage their friendship; even more fundamentally, though, he was worried it might suggest a lack of respect for the purity of the sensuality that he knew was virtually hardwired into her DNA as a mutant elemental.

Kurt decided that he could, at least for the moment, be honest about one thing. "Wolverine and I had a… disagreement about the methods he used on the mission. Nothing new, really—I don't know why I'm letting it get to me so much."

"You didn't want him to use lethal force."

"It's more than that, though. I was mission leader and while I didn't explicitly order him not to use lethal force, he would have known that. But he did it anyway. But really, that isn't even it. Maybe…" he sighed heavily, tiredly. "Maybe I'm worried that he was right, and I feel like there was a time when I would have been sure he was wrong. And I'm worried for what that says about who I've become, the moral compromises that being an X-Man have forced me to make, especially lately. It's just… It's silly, really. None of this is new and I'm an adult, I need to take responsibility for my own actions. It's not Wolverine's fault."

"It's not your fault either, Kurt."

"I know."

"Are you sure?"

Her eyes, wide and a clear, otherworldly pale blue when she wasn't using her powers, seemed to not so much bore into him as wash over him; her concern, her empathy, ignited by the vibrancy of her warm and beautiful soul, was like a physical tide. Once again, Kurt felt himself longing to be truly enveloped by that tide, in body as well as soul. But he'd had years to practice resisting such desires.

"I'm sure." He tried to smile as he softly squeezed her upper arm. "But I really do have to be going. I'll see you later…?"

"Logan and I are… We'll be out." Ororo fumbled slightly, uncharacteristically. But Kurt, with practiced ease, smoothed things over so that any casual observer—though not, perhaps, a close friend—would have assumed that nothing was amiss.

"Not to worry. I'm going to take an opportunity to catch up with Kitty before her team has to run off again. Have a good time."

He turned once more to leave.

"Oh, and Kurt…?"

"Hm?"

"You haven't forgotten about Melody Mitchell's TV crew coming tomorrow, right?"

"No, but I thought that was just for Scott's team."

"It was supposed to be, but the XSE's recent activities have been garnering some public interest and, well, I told them some members of our team would be willing to sit down with Ms. Mitchell for a few minutes. I recommended you. I… I hope you don't mind."

"Me?" Kurt really was genuinely surprised as he faced her, indigo brow furrowed above his widened golden eyes. "Does… um… Does she know who I am?"

"She knows you're one of the core leaders of the XSE, and a wonderful spokesperson for the peace and forgiveness we support."

"And yes," she added, smiling with compassion and a hint of gentle humour as she finally addressed his real question. "I have warned the young lady about your devilish good looks and charm. She's anxious to meet you."

"Yes, I'm sure. And what time is this circus set to begin?"

"The crew should be arriving about noon. They'll have a firmer schedule once they arrive but your interview should be sometime in the early afternoon."

"Danke. Now I really do need my beauty sleep. See you tomorrow!"

"Goodbye, Kurt."

Once the door had closed behind him, Ororo released a long, slow breath that felt like it had been uncomfortably imprisoned within her lungs for an eternity. She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned her body against the wall as though all her formidable strength had suddenly abandoned her. She even felt a vague twinge of what people without mutant elemental powers might have called cold. She wasn't bothered by her not-so-subtle actions manipulating Kurt into doing the interview; she knew he would have agreed to do it, regardless. But she was bothered by Kurt disengaging her touch. For one thing, it was yet more evidence of the suppressed desire in Kurt that Ororo had long suspected. More troubling, however, was her realization that she'd been upset about his breaking contact because she hadn't wanted to stop touching him—that she wanted to touch more of him, that she wished she were touching him now, and that his unique, two-fingered hands and forked tail were touching her. She shuddered against the urge to run after him, and returned to her mission reports.