An Inappropriate Love Story by babs
Summary: "Tell me about it, from beginning to now."
Categories: General Characters: None
Genres: Angst
Warnings: Sexual Situations
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 16 Completed: Yes Word count: 16370 Read: 26486 Published: 02-18-13 Updated: 02-25-13

1. Chapter 1 by babs

2. Chapter 2 by babs

3. Chapter 3 by babs

4. Chapter 4 by babs

5. Chapter 5 by babs

6. Chapter 6 by babs

7. Chapter 7 by babs

8. Chapter 8 by babs

9. Chapter 9 by babs

10. Chapter 10 by babs

11. Chapter 11 by babs

12. Chapter 12 by babs

13. Chapter 13 by babs

14. Chapter 14 by babs

15. Chapter 15 by babs

16. Chapter 16 by babs

Chapter 1 by babs
DISCLAIMER: Anything you recognize does NOT belong to me. They belong to either Marvel or their respective companies.
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There was someone ringing her doorbell. The ring was shrill and it was making her kitten, Panther, go crazy. Plus it was screwing with Ororo’s wallowing.

Viper knew. She just had to. There was no way she said something like that without knowing. It was conceivable that she’d been watching them from the other side of the glass doors, but they acted more like friends than lovers.

It made her paranoid that maybe Viper knew more than she let on. Had she seen the picture? It was so small and blurry... It could’ve been anything and yet Ororo grew wary.

Whoever was ringing her doorbell stopped to bang at her door.

That was more than enough to get Ororo up. She kicked off her covers and padded to her front door, uncaring of how sloppy she looked in her sweatshirt and sweatpants. Whoever was at the door was getting a very loud and very rude “FUCK OFF” because Ororo was not in the mood to play sweet. This was New York; you couldn’t just pull shit like that and expect it to slide off a Native New Yorker’s back. Hell no.

Ororo threw open the door forgetting to check the peephole. She immediately wished she had, though. It was Jean, bundled in her jacket and looking mad as hell. “Marie said she saw you and Logan huddled up together at the fundraiser, Ororo.” She shouldered past Ororo and walked into the warm townhouse. “Are you still seeing him?” she asked bluntly.

“Yes,” Ororo said through grit teeth as she slammed her door shut.

“Why? Couldn’t get enough of a married man--”

“Because I’m fucking pregnant,” Ororo snapped. Yeesh, Logan was rubbing off on her. “Get the hell out of my house if you’re gonna treat me like this. I don’t need you, Jean.”

For some odd reason, Ororo started sobbing. It was awkward and tired. She was sick of crying over everything that was happening. This wasn’t Ororo-- the strong, the proud, the resilient. And yet somehow, a rough Canadian was able to make her a blubbering baby. Ororo wanted to hate him for doing it, but she couldn’t, and she hated that she felt that way.

Somehow she ended back on her couch, crying into another person’s shoulder.

Ororo was getting sick of being like this.

When Ororo calmed, Jean looked at her friend, as though she was truly seeing the snow capped woman for the first time. Placing a hand on Ororo’s sweatpant-clad leg, Jean gave an olive branch. “Tell me about it, from beginning to now.”
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Author's note: this story jumps around a bit but I'll leave notes to connect where things are. If you catch any errors, PLEASE let me know and I'll fix them.
Chapter 2 by babs
Ororo was many things, but delusional she was not.

“You like that, baby?” he growled in her ear as he thrusted in from behind. He picked up the pace, feeling the tell tale signs of her approaching orgasm. Her moaning was becoming louder, her pussy was tightening, and her breaths occasionally hitched. Logan wanted to cum-- god, he wanted to cum badly-- but his baby was always a priority. When he left her-- and he would have to, soon, unfortunately and regrettably-- he wanted her to know that that sore feeling between her thighs came from him. “Fuck,” he grunted, words lost to him at this point.

Ororo whimpered, arching her back into his thrusts. She could hardly move; the hands on her hips kept her pinned to the bed, but she still had to do something to help assuage the tension inbetween her thighs. When she finally climaxed, Ororo was almost positive she’d go dumb for at least a good five minutes. Her hands fisted the white bed sheets and she squeezed her eyes shut, letting herself focus on her impending orgasm.

Logan moved his hands from her hips and intertwined his fingers in hers. For a moment, he looked at their hands, mapping the differences. His tanned hands had veins protruding from the backs while hers were smooth and dark. He completely ignored the lack of her wedding ring (despite the ghost of a tan) and the gleam of his gold band. Those were unpleasantries and he didn’t care to think on them. Not while he was with her and so close.

A gasp slipped her lips followed by a scream. Her manicured nails dug slightly into Logan’s hands, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he was thankful she could leave some sort of mark on his skin-- normally she... could not. Lest they be found...

Abruptly, he pulled out and flipped her onto her back. Without prompting, she wrapped her long, dark legs around his waist. One hand fisted his hair while the other gripped his bicep. When Logan came, he liked to see her. He was okay with not seeing her when she came-- though he preferred it-- but when he came, he had to see her. It was a sort of... relief... to his release. He liked knowing the person he was inside wasn’t his wife. It was an added bonus that he person he was inside was the woman he loved.

Actually no: It was the point of the entire thing.

Logan pressed his forehead to hers and gave her a chaste kiss before pulling back up. With three, four, five hard thrusts, he came, her name bouncing off the walls of her small townhouse and his seed pouring into her belly. He hated using condoms with her. He liked feeling her without the barrier.

When he came back down, Logan lowered himself to lay beside her. He gently pulled her to him, her body fitting the hollows of his. They fit: Logan loved that they fit together. No matter how things were now, Logan took this small thing as a sign that they were supposed to be together. He watched the rise and fall of her chest and traced patterns along her body; it was something to pass the time in the after glow before he had to leave or before she told him to.

Ororo stared into the space, not really seeing her ceiling or even noticing the fact that Logan was touching her. No, she was too focused on remaining hazy. She didn’t want to think about the fact that she just fucked a married man-- again-- despite the fact that she swore she wouldn’t as her New Year’s Resolution. (It was pathetic. She actually had to make a resolution to stop seeing him.) But he sent her those pretty flowers for Valentine’s Day and she was feeling so lonely...

Closing her eyes and taking a calming breath, she felt him kiss the shell of her ear. “God, I missed ya, darling.”

She did, too, but she wasn’t about to say it. When she called him, it was under the pretense that she was mad that he sent her those flowers. She knew it was a weak excuse-- if she was really mad she’d just throw the flowers out-- but it was something. Maybe she’d be able to sleep at night tonight knowing she was somewhat justified.

Logan rubbed his lips against her neck and closed his eyes. “I was worried you didn’t want ta see me anymore.”

That caught Ororo’s attention. “Why?” she asked a tad breathlessly, opening her eyes. “Why would you be worried about that?”

Logan pressed a kiss to her neck, then dragged his lips up to her ear. “Because I love ya, that’s why.”

For a moment, she turned her head to look at him. She’d be a liar if she said her heart didn’t beat a little faster when he said those words. When she was married, her husband rarely said it. She would do anything to hear those sacred words, but they never came. There was a time she truly believed T’ Challa loved her, but that was before their divorce.

So when Logan said it, she felt all those wonderful feelings one would feel after being shunned. She felt happy and accepted and loved and... awful.

A married man loved her. It wouldn’t be so horrible if they were married and his feelings were platonic as opposed to romantic but they were not. And it wouldn’t be so horrible if she didn’t absolutely love that he loved her. And it wouldn’t be so horrible if she didn’t absolutely love him back.

But she never said so.

Instead, Ororo took a deep breath, turned her head away from him, closed her eyes, and licked her lips. Ororo was the famed “other woman;” She had to accept that. She knew what she was doing was wrong. There was no justifying what she did and she didn’t bother trying.

“You should get going before she gets suspicious.”
Chapter 3 by babs
Author's Note: This chapter doesn't necessarily follow immediately after two... more like during? I'm sure you'll get it...
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Over the Hedge, that belongs to DreamWorks and I am not a stockholder or anything important to them, just a fan. PLEASE don't sue.
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How it all began, Ororo wasn’t sure and yet she could remember how. It was three months after her divorce, right when she was going through that awkward stage of accepting what had happened while wanting to still hold on and wanting to get back out there while still hating/loving her ex. Her emotions were all over the place and it was hard for her to understand what she was feeling.

Ororo had never been particularly emotional: Being emotional didn’t always get things done. There’d been a few expectancies where she’d slipped and really “let loose” but they were few and far between. The night she met Logan she’d been “letting loose” per the request of a few, close friends.

Ororo, Jean, Marie, Ali, and Kitty all went out to celebrate the fact that Ororo had officially thrown out all of T’Challa’s things. She donned her tightest and shortest dress, pulled on her sexiest heels, and was ready to show off the new and improved Ororo Munroe. (Munroe: It was hard getting used to having her own last name.) Ororo thought it was stupid for a bunch of women in their late twenties to be bar hopping dressing like college girls, but she was in no place to argue-- Ororo was wearing the skimpiest dress.

“Take a shot!” squealed Jean. Ororo giggled at her red headed friend and obliged her. The shot was purple, fizzy, and tasted like rum; other than the warm burn it made on its way down Ororo’s throat, it was good. “Yeah!” she cheered.

Kitty giggled, half mad with the amount vodka she’d chugged two bars back. Ororo was thoroughly impressed-- who knew someone so small could slam back that much alcohol? “Feelin’ better?”

“I can hardly feel anything!” Ororo shouted; the music in the bar was too loud.

Ali and Marie fell together laughing, both drunk enough to find anything funny. “That’s the point, shoog. You ain’t supposed to feel anything, ‘specially if it’s fer that asshole you were married to.” A quick pang shot through Ororo’s heart. How could she not feel something whenever T’Challa was mentioned? They were married for five years and it wasn’t until the end did she start feeling miserable. But she had to admit that maybe she hadn’t felt much of anything to begin with. Or maybe it was the alcohol. She didn’t know. Didn’t really care, either. “Stop thinkin’ about him! You sold all his shit and now yah’re moving into a place you can call ‘yah’re own.’ That’s what we’re here ta celebrate.”

Ororo smiled at Marie and picked up another shot. She raised it in honor of Marie’s words, but mostly have her shut up; Ororo loved the Mississippi Queen but she was sort of annoying drunk. Once she put the shot back down on the table, Ororo noticed a man staring hard at Marie. “Mysterious man at three o’clock,” she warned Marie, smiling.

Not two seconds later did a man approach Marie, holding a beer and smelling slightly of sweat and smoke. “How ya’ll ladies doing t’night?” he drawled, his full attention on Marie. Marie, who’d been loud and talkative, immediately fell silent and shy. The rest of the women murmured hello. “And you, petite? How ah you doing?”

“Ah’m fine,” she said, clearing her throat. “You?”

“All the better f’ seein’ you.” Marie giggled a bit too girlishly but the man smiled broadly, as though pleased with turning Marie into a puddle of prepubescent-esque woman goo. (Wait, was that even a real thing? Ororo was really getting drunk.) “You ladies mind if I take this here southern belle away f’ a dance?”

“Take her ass,” drawled Ali, picking up a beer from a passing waitress. Whosever beer this was, they’d live, Ali rationalized.

“Ali!” giggled Kitty, swatting her shoulder. Ali looked innocently at Kitty, Jean, and Ororo. (“What? She was gonna go anyways!”)

The remaining girls watched as Marie threw her arms around the Cajun man’s shoulders and began moving to the beat. Ororo looked down at their table and noticed there weren’t any drinks left. After arguing that it was her night so if she wanted to get drinks for her friends, she would!-- she walked off to the bartender to get one Sex on the Beach for Jean, a shot of Jacks with another Corona for Ali, a Vodka Collins for Kitty, and a Salty Dog for herself.

While she was leaning over the counter shouting her orders, she felt a particularly strong presence saddle up beside her. Ororo glanced at who it was, ready to tell them to please take a few steps back when she saw his face. Or Logan’s, as she later learned.

He was so handsome. Those eyes were beyond enchanting and he had this crazy animal magnetism to him that was amplified by alcohol, his woodsy and cigar scent, her horniness, and his natural sex appeal. (Woof!- she was really gone.) A smile curled his lips. “Need something, darlin’?” he asked.

Ororo quirked a lopsided smile and leaned in close. “Maybe later,” she said coquettishly, taking her drinks from the bartender and quickly paying him. She could feel his eyes on her backside-- she could tell his from everyone else’s-- so she made sure her strut was extra proud and the swing of her hips was even more violent and accentuated. As she sat, she forced herself to only allow him teasing, flirting glances. He didn’t send a drink her way, something she found curious, but was certain he still wanted her. And anyways, if he really wanted her, he would approach her.

It didn’t take long.

She broke away from the rest of the group to play a game of pool. He came up from behind and asked for her name. She told him he could have it if he beat her. After three games, he never did, so he never learned her name, but he did offer his... behind the bar in an alley where they fucked.

It was irresponsible, Ororo knew, but he was giving it to her in ways T’Challa hadn’t since they first got engaged. She’d never felt so alive, being taken outside so roughly by a complete stranger. She wasn’t even completely undressed. He just pulled the brief dress up and pulled her panties to the side. Ororo simply wrapped a leg around his waist and prayed a cop didn’t walk by or a bar maid come out for her smoke break. But no came... except for them. (And at the same time... How strange!)

When they finished, Ororo kissed him on the mouth and dropped her leg. He had a sort of dreamy look on his face, as though he were seeing her for the first time. While she adjusted her skirt, he once more asked for her name and she coyly told him he didn’t earn it. (“Not even after I made you cum?” he asked.)

When she made her way back inside, she felt heady and alive, but wanted to leave. She didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness of seeing the guy she just fucked and having to pretend for the rest of the night like they were an item; they both got something back in the alley, it should’ve been enough.

Should’ve been, she would later reflect, but was not.

Her friends thankfully didn’t ask questions.

When she got back home, she slept soundly. There were no thoughts of T’Challa, just a strange man with a perfect five o’clock shadow, strong hands, and perfect pace.


The second time she met Logan, she not only learned his name, but also his deceit.

He was a benefactor to the school she worked at; he owned a series of bars and restaurants and liked to give back to the poor for more than just publicity or a tax write-off; he was a “good” guy. His wife sang his praises as they walked through the halls of Charles Xavier School (grades K-12.)

James Logan Howlett picked the school after reading about it in the paper. He found Charles Xavier’s cause noble; he, himself, had been a homeless youth at one point and knew how hard it was to make it without the help of someone else. But before he donated one red cent, he wanted a tour of the premises. Ororo, who had plans of teaching her third grade class she was covering the basics of plant anatomy was forced to show Over the Hedge while she gave the Howletts a tour.

When she saw him she nearly threw up on her pencil dress. While she’d been pretty drunk that night, she was pretty sure it was him. He had the same animal magnetism about him even if he was cleaned up in a suit and tie (Ororo liked him better in flannel, leather, and jeans.) But what caused her doubt was not only the fact that he was apparently married, but how happy he seemed with his wife. They held hands, smiled, and doted upon each other.

So Ororo kept her cool and asked appropriate questions about him, his wife, and their work. He was professional and asked about the school, the cause, and her work.

She inwardly screamed every time his wife spoke up.

And his wife... Her name was Ophelia and Ororo had to admit the woman was attractive. Like Logan, she was in her mid forties, but it was cleverly masked by an excellent dye job, makeup, fantastic style, and what Ororo assumed was a great trainer. The diamond ring on her finger was beautiful if not a little gaudy. (Ororo quickly checked her jealousy.)

When the tour ended, Logan said he would be more than happy to donate thirty thousand dollars to the school and orphanage, but he would be back.

And when he came back, somehow he ended up kneeling before Ororo, feasting on her “delicious, pretty pussy” while she sat on her desk. It was crazy; one minute they were trying to figure out how to remain professional, the next the were arguing, and the next he was kneeling before her, groaning into her sex while rubbing the front of his pants.

Somehow they ended up going to lunch together to truly talk out their sexual tension/chemistry.

And if Ororo truly had to pinpoint where it all began, she would have to go with when he took her to a small coffee shop and ordered her tea without knowing what she liked. When she asked, he screwed a confident smile and simply told her: “You look like the type.”
Chapter 4 by babs
Author's Note: There's a line from the chapter this [technically] follows to help you out.
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“You should get going before she gets suspicious.”

Logan breathed a laugh and pulled her closer to him by her hip. “I can stay a while longer,” he said softly, tracing her hipbone with his thumb. He knew she was probably right, but he was loath to leave the comfort of her bed and the after glow of their sex just to go back home to Viper.

“No, you should go,” she said, sitting up. “It’s bad enough that you’re lying to your wife, but you shouldn’t put your friends’ integrity on the line.” To see her, Logan would often say he was going out with the guys for a beer or a jog; it was never enough-- an hour was just too short with Ororo-- so he started “going out with the guys more often. “It’s late,” she said, brushing a white strand of hair from hair from her forehead.

“Why do you do that?” he asked, sitting up on his elbows. “Why do ya always make me leave after I’ve said I love you?”

“I do not,” she argued, climbing down from the bed. She moved to her closet and grabbed the silk bathrobe hanging from a hook.

“You do,” he countered, watching her. “You’re doing it now.”

Ororo snorted as she tied the sash. “No, I’m getting dressed now. You still haven’t left.” She smoothed her hands down the robe, erasing the imaginary crinkles. “Why--”

“I do love ya, Ro,” he said gently. She snorted. “What?” he grouched. “Is it so bad that I love you?”

“Yes,” she hissed, her eyes narrowed. “It is.”

“Why?” he asked, finally moving to get dressed. He grabbed his boxers and pulled them on, but he honestly wasn’t trying to leave just yet. “Why would it be so bad?”

“If you don’t know why then you’re really cracked in the head,” she spat.

“Hey!” he barked, glaring at her. He got up from the bed and moved in front of her, “Don’t you ever say that shit again,” he warned. Viper was always telling him he was crazy; when he finally opened up to Ororo about his flashbacks from his childhood, she held him close and apologized for everything that happened to him and told him he wasn’t crazy, but incredibly strong. He didn’t want that memory tarnished by her recanting in a spat.

“You know what I...” she trailed off. She buried her head in her hands and groaned. “You’re married, Logan,” she said seriously. “Married.” Ororo wet her lower lip. “The only woman you should be in love with is your wife.”

“But I’m not. I’m in love with you,” he said gravely.

“Yeah?” He nodded. “Well, don’t.” She moved away from him and grabbed his pants and promptly threw them at him. Logan groaned, angry. He hated when she got like this. He couldn’t understand why she couldn’t just fucking believe him and say the goddamn words back! He knew she loved him. He just knew she did. “You’re married and... And I can’t be with a married man.”

Logan had had enough of this. “Rise and shine, princess,” he shouted, moving towards her again. “You just fucking were!” he bit, pointing at the clothes strewn about the floor and the state of her messy bed. He didn’t expect to get slapped, though.

“Damn you!” she said, her voice crisp. She watched Logan touch his cheek and slowly move his head back to face her. The next thing she knew, he was grabbing her wrists and pushing her against a wall. “Get out of my face, Logan,” she said, her voice unflappable.

“You only get one of those,” he said darkly, his chest heaving from anger and exertion. He added extra pressure to her wrists for emphasis. He’d never hurt Ororo-- he’d never hurt any woman-- but Ororo above all. But that didn’t mean he was just going to let her hit him whenever she damn well pleased. “You listen to me,” he said slowly. “I love you,” he enunciated. “Okay? I love you.” He watched her face, bothered by the slight look of fear on her face, but he wasn’t about to let her go. “I know I’m married to Viper, Ro. You know it, too, and you still slept with me.”

Her head snapped up to look at him, furious. “Logan--”

“No, you’re gonna listen,” he said, cutting her off. Logan took a deep breath. “Ro, my marriage is a fucking sham. I wanna leave her-- God knows I do and how I’ve tried-- but I’m stuck with her.” Logan stroked her wrists with his thumbs, feeling her pulse flutter. “There’s no love in our marriage. There’s nothin’ at all. Nothin’ that ain’t negative, at least,” he admitted sadly.

Ororo stared up at him, her wrists pinned. She didn’t want to hear him, didn’t want him here. All she wanted was to take a shower, change her sheets, and try and forget. But she couldn’t. Not while he had her pinned. Not while he was baring a part of himself.

“You’re the first person to make me feel truly happy in a long time,” he said softly. Almost quietly, as though he was talking more to himself than her at this point.

“Don’t ever tell that to your friends,” she offered.

Logan clicked his tongue. “Stop trying to make light of the situation, darlin’.” He took a deep breath. “I love you. I’m not sorry that I do but I am sorry things have to be this way. I wish I could be with you always, that I didn’t have to leave. You’re the only one I want,” he said, almost pleadingly, releasing her wrists. A hand went to her hip and another to her cheek.

She held the hand on her cheek, trying to not feel affected and trying to not feel the cold burn of his wedding ring. “But I’m not the only one you have,” she whispered, tracing the gold band. She stepped away from him and started moving to her front door. “I’m sorry, Logan,” she said, looking down, “but we’re done.”

“No,” he started, “you can’t--”

“I... I don’t ever want to see you in this way again.”

“Ro, please, I need ya,” he begged.

“Go home, Logan,” she said decidedly.

Logan stared at her, feeling desperate and lonely. When she refused to say anything else, he begrudgingly dressed himself. Once his pants were fastened, his shoes laced, and his keys back in his hands, he walked to the door. In a last ditch effort, he held her waist and raised her chin to make her look at him. “Please, Ro. You don’ know what you’re saying. What you’re asking me.”

“This isn’t right, Logan,” she said. “And we both know we were going to end in some way,” she said softly, staying her tears.

“But not like this,” he admitted. “I love ya. I need ya.”

“You need to go home to your wife, Logan.”

“But tell me this, Ro,” he cupped her cheek and leaned in, “don’t ya love me?” he asked. “Huh?”

Ororo moved her head from his hand and opened the front door. “Good bye, Logan.”

He stared hard at her, waiting. Logan was rooted to the spot, unable to so much as properly breathe. He couldn’t go, not without hearing those sacred words. She’d never said them before and if they were “ending” he was going to make sure she said them now. But they never came. So instead, he pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, ignoring the slight flinch she made. “I love you, Ro. Always.” He kissed her again. “I love ya.”

And with that, they ended.
Chapter 5 by babs
Author's Note: I don't own Samsung, so please don't sue. ALSO- this follows immediately after their break up.
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Remy awoke at four o’clock in the morning to furious banging on his apartment door. Marie, his bedfellow, jerked awake at the sound. “There’s someone at your door,” she whispered, fear laced in her words.

For a moment, Remy contemplated calling 911, but if it was someone coming to collect on a debt, he had his own security: His sweet nine piece. And then the banging sounded like plaintive wailing. Remy was slightly confused, but he knew the voice and considering the time and who he was with Remy just couldn’t leave Logan outside like that. “It’s alright, petite. It’s just Logan.”

“Why the hell is he bangin’ on your door at this tahme of night?” she asked, watching Remy get dressed in sweatpants and a workout shirt.

“Dunno.” He kissed her forehead. “Go back t’ sleep.” He walked to his front, checked the peephole-- habits, y’know?-- and opened the door. Logan stumbled in, blind drunk and smelling like it, too. Remy prayed he didn’t drive here. “Logan, what the hell?”

“She left me!” he wailed, his face red from the alcohol.

Remy took a step back, having been hit in the face by the sour smell of everything Logan drank. He put a steadying hand on Logan’s shoulder and led the drunk man to sit on the couch. “Who left y’? Viper?”

Logan buried his head in hands and shook his head. “Ro! She-she fuckin’ left me,” he said, his shoulders shaking.

Of course. Had Viper left Logan, Remy was certain he wouldn’t hear from Logan for a week-- the man would probably spend every waking minute with his head or his dick buried between Ororo’s brown thighs-- but since Ro left Logan... Christ, Logan was in bad shape and it had probably only happened hours before. Hours, Remy speculated, because it took forever for Logan to get drunk. The man had incredible tolerance to alcohol.

“Lemme get y’ a beer,” Remy said, slightly uncomfortable with Logan’s uncommon display of emotion. Remy was supposed to be the emotional one; Logan was a total “man’s man.”

“I don’t need a beer, I need this to not be my life,” he sighed heavily.

“Lemme get y’ one anyways.” Remy moved to his kitchen and pulled out a beer, then the pack of cigarettes and lighter in one of his drawers. Remy handed Logan the beer and dropped down on his wooden coffee table, lighting himself a smoke. “So? What happened?” Remy asked.

Logan chugged the beer. When he finished, he sighed, enjoying the deeper haze of being drunk. “She said she were done. Said what we were doin’ was wrong.”

Remy sighed and looked at Logan. Remy had been friends with Logan for quite some time so he knew how lonely Logan truly was in his marriage. Viper lived up to her name, making Logan’s life a living hell. When Remy met Logan, the older man was depressed and henpecked. When Logan met Ororo-- and had her-- he was happier, brighter, and easier to be around. Remy couldn’t help but notice the change and asked about it. Because of their friendship, Logan told Remy the truth.

Logan was conflicted (at first) about having a mistress. He swore up and down that it wasn’t serious and he was just getting twelve years of pent up sexual frustration out of his system. But Remy knew: Logan was halfway in love with Ororo.

Remy couldn’t really say anything about what was going on between him, Viper, and Ororo-- Remy had cheated on his fair share of girlfriends-- but it was undeniably wrong. And for how wrong it was, Remy just knew it wasn’t going to end well, but he... kind of hoped it didn’t. Logan needed Ororo. Maybe having Ororo would finally give Logan the strength he’d lost all those years ago in his marriage to leave Viper.

And now he probably never would.

Ororo had ended things.

“It wasn’t s’posed to be like this,” Logan said lowly. “We weren’t s’posed to end.”

“And how were y’ ‘s’posed’ to be, Logan? Y’ still married t’ Viper.”

Logan shook his head. “We were supposed to be together. We weren’t s’posed ta end.” Logan’s phone began vibrating. Remy saw the hopeful look on his face be dashed when he saw who was really calling. “What, Viper?” he snapped.

“Don’t talk to me like that. Are you coming home or should I call the police for your drunken ass?”

“I wish ya would call the police on me, see how it looks on page 3.” Viper fell silent. “I’m fucking coming home. Don’t fucking call me again.” And with that, he threw his phone at Remy’s wall. The phone screen shattered upon impact and the battery popped out the back. There was a slim dent in Remy’s wall from where the phone hit.

“Merde, homme! What the fuck y’ do that fo’?” Remy shouted, standing up. “Look at my wall! Look at y’ phone!” Remy moved to the broken piece of plastic. A brand new Samsung, a gift from Viper.
“I’m sorry,” Logan apologized. “I’ll fix the fucking wall. I just--” Logan walked over to his phone and picked up the pieces. He put the battery back in and the screen slowly lit up. “I’ll go.”

“No,” Remy said, putting his fist to his hand. He had a massive headache coming on and smoking wasn’t making it go away. Fucking Logan: His problems were always fucking crazy. “I can’t let y’ drive home. Y’ too drunk. I’ll drive ya.”

“I can’t leave my truck here,” Logan argued.

“I--” Merde. Remy could always call a tow truck while he drove Logan, but the would require Marie having to tell the man where to take the truck. And he could stay here and have the tow truck person come first, but with how Logan was acting he didn’t want Marie to be further exposed. The only other option was having Marie drive Logan’s truck while Remy drove Logan. “Dammit, Logan,” Remy sighed as he walked back to his room.

When he opened the door, Marie was already dressed. “I need ta ask a favor of y’.”


When they got back home, Remy was exhausted. Viper yelled at both him and Logan-- Logan told Viper he was drinking with the guys. All Remy wanted to do was curl up beside Marie and try and get a few minutes of sleep before his eight o’clock alarm went off. This was such a shit night. His day would undoubtedly be affected.

Remy walked back to his bedroom and started pulling off his shirt. “Thanks, cherie, I--”

“You knew Logan was cheatin’ on his wife with Ororo,” Marie said loudly. “You knew and yah not only said nothin’ but yah helped him cheat, too.”

“Marie,” Remy started, “I never helped, per se--”

“You covered fer his sorry ass when Viper was askin’ questions,” she pointed out. “I jus’-- Ah can’t believe yah’d do somethin’ lahke that. Knowin’ about mah Momma and the thangs she did.” Marie shook her head violently. Her accent was thick, she knew, but it only ever got this thick when she was this angry. No... Angry was such a pitifully lacking word. Marie was irate. And disappointed. At Remy, at Logan, and most of all at Ororo. But she would deal with that on Monday. Now she was dealing with Remy.

“It wasn’t my place t’ tell, Marie.”

“Bull shit.” Marie furrowed her brows. “You’d keep something lahke this from me. And what’s worse is that yah’re giving me a sorry ass excuse to cover your tail. Ah cannot believe,” she repeated. She stopped abruptly and put up a hand. “Ah can’t be around you right now.”

“Why, petite?” Remy asked, grabbing Marie’s elbow. “What’s goin’ on between them ain’t what’s goin’ on wit’ us. Y’ mad, I can see, but we should talk about this. Like adult,” he reasoned. “I know what Logan and y’ friend are doin’ is wrong, but they’ve been together f’ a while-- merde!” That wasn’t the right thing to say. “Look, Marie, Logan needs Ro and y’ know how his wife is...”

Marie jerked her elbow from his grips. “Do NOT call me. Ah'm just... too disgusted with you tah hear from you.” She stormed towards his door. As she threw open the door, she paused, then looked back at him. “You're a dog, Remy Lebeau. A damn dog.”
Chapter 6 by babs
Author's Note: This is gonna bounce from viewpoint to viewpoint... if it gets confusing, leave me a SPECIFIC message about where the confusion is and I'll fix it. Also, this one is gonna be a tad over dramatic but I was like "whatever; who HASN'T watched a soap opera with their grandma?"
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Sunday passed too slowly for everyone. Ororo spent all of Sunday doing her damnedest to forget about what she’d done and how much she missed him. Logan spent his Sunday sobering up to the sound of Viper shouting at him for everything; it didn’t compare to the ache of not being able to call Ororo. Remy spent his Sunday being pissed that shit ran downhill.

Marie spent her Sunday thinking.

She decided that she was not truly angry at Remy, but all her anger was directed to Ororo. How her friend could do something like that, she knew not. But what Marie did know was that it dragged up all those suppressed feelings she had as a child. Her mother was a prostitute; she’d busted up more than a few marriages and put countless through the ropes. Knowing Ororo was sleeping with a married man just made Marie... Sick.

How long had Ororo been sleeping with Logan? A while, based on what Remy said. That made things worse.

And that bitch! She had the audacity to warn Marie of Remy when she was opening her legs to man she had no business being with.

It was decided. On Monday, Marie was going to confront Ororo and let her know what was up. All things done in the dark had to come to light.



It was during lunch break that the fall out happened.

Marie went to refill her cup of coffee when she heard giggling in the teacher’s lounge. When she walked in, she was half expecting to join in on the fun when she saw Ororo. Ali, Kitty, and Jean were standing around Ororo, yucking it up, not knowing how much of a harlot Ororo really was. While Marie had planned on talking to Ororo about it civilly after work, now was just a good a time as any.

Marie approached Ororo, a smile on her face. “Hello, Jean, Kitty, Ali.” She dumped her cold coffee into the sink and faced Ororo. The brown woman looked... sad. Her eyes were still slightly red and puffy. Well, Marie wasn’t about to be affected. “Ororo.”

“Hello, Marie,” she said softly. “How are you?”

“Not too good. Ah saw Remy Saturday. We got into a fight.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Jean, the school nurse, sighed. “What happened?”

“Someone came to his door at four in the mornin’, crying an’ drunk,” she said, her eyes never straying from Ororo’s blue. If she wasn’t mistaken, a look of worry flashed in Ororo’s eyes.

“An ex? That’s awkward,” Ali, the music teacher, said.

“No, not an ex. It was Logan. Logan Howlett.”

“The school’s benefactor?” Kitty asked.

Ororo shot Marie a pleading look, but Marie carried on. “Yeah, he got into a fight with someone.”

“Wait... He got into a fight with his wife?” asked Kitty.

Oh, Kitty. She was always so perceptive. Marie supposed that was one of the perks of being a genius. “No. That’s what made it even stranger. He got into a fight with his mistress.”

“Oh, no,” Jean said, covering her mouth.

“Yep. She left him and broke his damn heart.” Marie watched Ororo’s knuckles whiten over as she gripped her mug tighter.

“Wait... Why would you and Remy get into a fight if Logan was the one having problems?” asked Kitty, curious.

“Oh, because he was sleeping with Ororo,” Marie declared. “We got into a damn fight because Remy was keepin’ Logan and this harlot’s affair a goddamn secret!”

Ororo swallowed hard. “Ororo,” Jean said, turning to her best friend, “is- is that true?” Ororo looked at Jean, but was unable to answer. Her eyes were beginning to burn; she was so tired of crying but she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from crying should Jean keep talking. “Were you really having an-an affair with Mr. Howlett?” she whispered.

“Jean--”

“Oh, shut up!” Marie hissed. “Don’t you even think about cryin’. I bet yah weren’t crying when you and Logan were carryin’ on. So scandalous. An’ ta think you were the one giving Jean the shoulder ta cry on when Scott was cheatin’ on her!-- no offense,” Marie added, putting up her palms. “She’s a hypocrite.”

Jean suddenly gave a mirthless laugh. “No, that’s not possible.” She shook her head, her long, red ponytail shaking. “You wouldn’t. You just wouldn’t--”

“You better believe it, Jean. Logan said her name. Remy said her name.”

Ororo reached out to Jean. “It’s not what you think--”

“Jean!” gasped Kitty. Jean had just thrown her coffee in Ororo’s face, ruining Ororo’s beautiful sky blue, silk henley and white pencil skirt. The coffee trickled down into Ororo’s tan pumps. Jean took one last look at Ororo before rushing off. Kitty squeezed Ororo’s shoulders before turning away. “I hope you’re happy,” she hissed at Marie as she shouldered past the southern belle.

“Yah’re mad at me when this here slut is openin’ her legs for married men!”

“You could’ve had more tact!” snapped Ali. “Come on, Ororo,” she said softly, guiding her coffee covered friend to the bathroom. Ali ushered Ororo inside the bathroom and locked the door. She sat Ororo on the toilet after letting the seat down and started grabbing paper towels to dab at the mess Jean-- and really Marie-- had made. Ororo was crying, her tears fat and her cries stuttering.

“She’s right,” Ororo said, letting Ali clean her. “I’m a slut. A harlot. A- a hypocrite.”

Ali shushed her and continued cleaning her. “You’ve made a mess.” When she was done, Ali stood and leaned against the porcelain sink and looked down at Ororo. There were so many questions running through her mind-- some of them tawdry and some of them curious-- but only one seemed appropriate. “Did you really leave him?” Ali asked. It wasn’t the question she wanted to ask, but it would answer a lot of things, like if she’d really had an affair with Logan.

“I did,” she whispered. “It was the hardest thing I’ve had to do since my divorce with T’Challa.” Saying his name didn’t hurt anymore. It hadn’t since she had Logan, and now he was gone.

“Why?” Ali asked, squatting before Ororo once more. “Why?”

Ororo looked at Ali, her eyes glassy and mooning. "I... I was trying to do the right thing." She gave a crazed laugh. "Look at the good it did me," she murmured. "I'm wet, friendless, and alone." Again.
Chapter 7 by babs
Author's Note: I've officially completed the story, which is awesome because I have two essays I've gotta get cracking on.
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A month and a half passed since the falling out in the teacher’s lounge. There were rumors going around the school, but they were nothing compared to how the teachers behaved around Ororo. They neither went out of their way to speak to her nor exclude her, they simply hoped she would be there but say nothing. And if she did say something, they hoped she would volunteer information about what happened and put certain rumors to rest.

Ororo, Marie, and Jean’s mutual friends didn’t know what to do. They didn’t really speak to Ororo in hopes that Jean and Marie wouldn’t gang up on them and splash coffee in their faces, but they pitied Ororo. Their African American friend was a solitary figure now who looked like she just might disappear into either the background or her insurmountable sadness.

And Ororo was sad. She stopped smiling so much and her clothes were either gray or black or navy blue. Whenever she spoke to someone, she sounded wistful, as though she was hoping you would speak to her but would also leave her alone. It was like a rain cloud followed her everywhere.

She made the decision to avoid her easy by being so hard to be around.

Ali and the new gym teacher, Yukio, were the only ones to actively try and be around Ororo.

“What d’you say to going to an outdoor concert with me this Saturday?” asked Ali while she peeled her orange.

“Hm,” Ororo said noncommittally, poking at her pesto spaghetti. She’d sort of had an increase in appetite since Logan left. Ororo once read that people ate their feelings when going through a period of depression. Curious, because when T’Challa left her, she never wanted to eat anything. But she had to figure that those two relationships were different and so it only made sense her reactions would be different. It just sucked that she had to gain three pounds that refused to go away. “Maybe,” she decided.

“Maybe?” repeated Ali exasperated. “You need to get out of your house. You’re losing your color!”

“Yeah, you are starting to look a little white,” Yukio remarked. “Maybe you should take a vacation. Recuperate.” Yukio poked at her wakame salad. “I know a great spot. We should go together,” she said brightly.

“I’m pretty sure she doesn’t swing that way,” joked Ali, nudging Yukio in the ribs.

“She should try. She’s obviously single,” Yukio said under her breath to Ali.

Ali shot Yukio a withering look. “Anyways! You, me, the park. We should do this.”

“Maybe, Ali. If I’m free.”

“You’re always free. And you’re coming.” Ali poked her fork at Ororo. “That’s final.”

Ororo smiled weakly at her friend’s efforts. “Fine.” She bit into her food, finding the taste slightly off. “Who’s playing?”

“A progressive... You alright?”

Ororo nodded, forcing a smile on her face and swallowing thickly. Her answer failed to appease Ali and Yukio was beginning to give her a suspicious look. “I just feel a little...tired.” That wasn’t a lie and it wasn’t the truth. Ororo had been feeling tired quite a lot for the past few days, but she’d been sleeping almo. “What?”

“I dunno...” Yukio tipped her head, regarding her friend. “You don’t look tired. I mean, you do, but... Right now? You look like you’re about to puke.” Yukio grimaced. “Oh, god, if you are gonna puke please--”

“I’m fine,” Ororo snapped, opening her bottle of green tea. She took several chugs of the overly sweetened stuff and prayed she looked convincing. For a moment, Ororo was convinced her stomach would stop rolling before it turned once more. She clapped a hand over her mouth and held her hand steady, not bothering to play it off. How could she?-- Ali and Yukio were already leaning away from Ororo.

Ororo heaved a sigh and capped her lid on her meal, then put them back in cloth lunch bag. “I’m going to my room to finish some work.” She rose to her full height, ignoring the look of relief on her friends’ faces. “Ali, I’ll call you later about Saturday. Yukio,” she said in lieu of a farewell.

On her trek back to her classroom, she happened to overhear someone call her name. She turned her head, looking for the source of the noise. She eventually noticed the school’s principal and namesake, Charles Xavier, waving her over. A sense of unease washed over her, knowing what was about to come. It was only a matter of time before the hush-hush rumors got back to Charles.

“Close the door, please,” he said kindly, not looking up from a paper he was signing. Ororo did as asked, then took a seat in one of his plush leather chairs. Her eyes flicked about the room, taking in the numerous plaques and books. When her gaze finally came back to Charles, he was smiling at her. “I’m sure you know why you’re here, Ororo.”

“Yes sir.”

Charles chuckled. “I’m not going to fire you, if that’s what’s gotten you so serious. ‘Sir,’” he breathed a laugh and shook his head, “you’ve never called me that before.”

Ororo’s shoulders relaxed, but only just. “Sorry... This has never happened to me before.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He pursed his lips, serious. “It had better not. I don’t know why Jean threw coffee on you and I don’t know why Marie called you all those names, nor do I want to know. I’ve already spoken to Jean and I’ve already spoken to Marie.” Ororo swallowed, putting a hand over her rolling stomach. “Should this happen again, I will not hesitate to fire all of you. Had we not been so severely understaffed, I would have already.”

Ororo nodded, unsure if it would be appropriate to defend herself. Probably not. “Of course. It won’t happen again. We’re adults; we’ll behave like adults from now on.”

Charles hummed. “You’d better. You’re dismissed.” Ororo stood and grabbed her lunch bag. “Oh, and while you’re here, I should let you know you’re looking a little green. You should see a doctor, Ororo.”
Chapter 8 by babs
Author's Note: This chapter does not follow any chapter. It's like chapter three, doesn't really have a place but is more "back story".
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“You alright, homme?” Remy asked Logan.

The story of how Remy learned about Logan’s mistress wasn’t a glamorous one. Remy didn’t discover them on accident; Logan was careful. Before learning about Ororo, Remy had certainly noticed changes in Logan, but they were shrugged off as signs of a midlife crisis: Logan started working out harder, he spent less time at Harry’s on guy’s night, he smiled a lot more, but he was also a lot jumpier every time his phone rang or buzzed. So, the signs were there that Logan had something going on, but they weren’t overt.

Remy didn’t find out until he and Logan went to the gym and Logan was acting incredibly weird. The Canadian was quiet and kept shooting Remy furtive glances. After spending thirty minutes of trying to act like he hadn’t noticed Logan’s aggravating behavior, Remy had had enough. So, Remy put down the weight and faced his gym buddy.

“Of course,” Logan replied quickly. Too quickly.

“Uh huh,” Remy said skeptically. He picked up his weights once more and continued his reps. About five minutes passed before Logan began stealing glances at Remy. Putting down the weights again, Remy faced Logan. Again. “You hidin’ something.”

Logan gave Remy a measured look. “What makes you say that?”

Remy wanted to rip his hair out of his head. “You keep lookin’ at Remy like you got somethin’ t’ say.”

Logan faced forward and continued his rep, though it was a tad more aggressive than before. “We’re friends, right? Friends tell each other shit and keep that shit secret right?”

Remy snorted. “Sure?”

Logan nodded, closing his eyes. “Right,” he said, though more to himself. Logan continued his reps for a while longer, refusing to look anywhere but forward. Remy was beginning to feel uneasy. Was Logan involved in something? Hopefully not.

“Look, Logan, whatever’s goin’ on--”

“I’ve been cheating on Viper.”

Remy looked at Logan in a stunned silence. “Oh,” was all he managed. What could he say? For years, Remy had been joking with Logan about how if he was married to Viper, he’d have a string of lovers. Logan, who was more honorable than he let on, always told Remy to fuck off, that that stuff just wasn’t for him and how Viper would kill him and blah blah blah. Well... Remy figured Logan gave in to the idea. There’s only so long a man can go without sex.

Logan looked at Remy and nodded. “Yeah.” Remy nodded again, still too surprised. “Her name’s Ororo and she works with Marie.”

“What?” asked Remy, finally shocked back to reality. They put their weights back in their respective holders. “You been carryin’ on with someone Marie knows?”

“Sort of--”

“How do y’ ‘sort of’ have an affair with someone my girlfriend knows, homme?” Remy asked, exasperated. God, he could see it know: Marie finding out and cussing him out for keeping this a secret.

“We’ve been... She’s... I mean--”

“Take y’ time. It ain’t like y’ saying anything that makes sense!”

Logan heaved a sigh. “She knows Marie. They work together at that school.”

“Is that where y’ met?” asked Remy, folding his arms to his chest. His arms felt grimy touching his sweat slicked shirt, but there were more important things to worry about. Like how Logan’s dumb ass could potentially end Remy’s happiness.

“I guess.”

Remy groaned and put his hand to his forehead. “That night,” he muttered, realization dawning on him. “Should’ve known when you came back all smilin’ and smellin’ like sex.” Logan smiled, but it was a little uncomfortable... for Remy. Remy highly suspected there was more going on than Logan was letting on, but for now, Remy knew more than enough. “Remy won’ say nothing so long as Logan don’t do nothing stupid.”

“Course,” Logan said defensively. Logan stuck his hand out; Remy shook the proffered hand. “Thanks.”
Chapter 9 by babs
Author's Note: Neither Ro, nor Lo make it into this chapter, but I felt like it should go in.
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Jean sat across from Scott, locked in a fierce battle over who was the best Bond. It was light hearted and Jean couldn’t help but laugh every time Scott pursed his lips and called her crazy for thinking Daniel Craig was the best Bond yet. (“He’s just eye candy!”) And maybe Scott had a point, but Jean wasn’t about to give in.

It was a stark contrast to how they’d been a nearly a year ago.

Jean hadn’t seen it coming. She was in the kitchen, trying a new recipe, chattering about her day. When she noticed Scott wasn’t saying anything, she asked him if he was feeling well. He just blurted it out.

He’d slept with Emma Frost, their accountant.

It made Jean feel so inadequate, knowing he would want to be with someone other than herself. Scott was Jean’s first and only and he slept with another woman. She nearly left him, unable to see past her fury to notice his genuine remorse. In fact, she hadn’t. The first two days were spent at Ororo’s, sobbing into her best friend’s arms.

In counseling, Scott told her he felt their marriage was lacking something and all he wanted was to feel some sort of a spark. He said he felt estranged from Jean at times. When he started seeing Emma, it was just to talk. He missed being able to connect to someone without feeling like they were judging him. And soon it escalated. Scott found that talking to her wasn’t enough and the night he confessed to Jean about their affair was the night he slept with Emma.

Marriage counseling was grueling, but when it ended, Jean got the chance to better understand Scott and they actually worked through his infidelities coming out stronger for it. After all, if you could get past the first five years and an infidelity, you could make it past anything.

But if that was true, why was Logan cheating on Ophelia? They should’ve had untouchable strength having been married all those years. Ideally, they-- Logan and Ophelia-- should’ve been happy with one another and not seeking out different sexual partners. Logan should not have been in that bar pretending to be single and he shouldn’t have been with Ororo.

Ororo. The name caused certain heartache and regret in Jean’s bones.

Ororo had been the one to convince Jean to go back to Scott. Ororo told Jean that she didn’t want to see another divorce. That it would be too depressing to see Jean turn out like Ororo-- not yet thirty and already divorced. Jean could add “adulteress” to the list of things Ororo now was.

Friendless, too.

That really hurt Jean. They were supposed to be sisters in everything but blood and apparently they were only sisters in name. The way Jean acted towards Ororo was horrible. She’d... overreacted. Jean was ashamed of not only how she embarrassed herself, but Ororo as well. They were adults and friend since diapers-- they should have been able to listen to one another without acting like a poorly written soap opera.

Jean hated what Ororo was doing but she especially hated how she responded.

She vowed to make things right and hear Ororo out.

“Jean?” Scott asked, noticing her quiet mood. “Everything alright?”

Jean forced a smile to her face. “Yeah... Never better.”
Chapter 10 by babs
Author's Note: This is the chapter that kicks off Chapter 1 but I'm almost positive everyone gets how this story flows.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marchesa, I just really love their clothes.
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“...After this, we should go get some sushi. I know this great place that stays open till two,” Yukio said, watching Ororo fix her lipstick in the bathroom mirror. Yukio hated that she couldn’t be more than a close friend to Ororo, especially after seeing her in that dress. It was a simple, white gown, form fitting and backless. It wasn't particularly sexy, Yukio figured, but wasn't there a saying about the woman making the dress?

“Sounds good, but after this, I just want to go home. My feet hurt,” Ororo said, kicking her heels. Her silver shoes were sexy but incredibly uncomfortable. All she wanted to do was go home, hop in her shower, and eat her cookie dough ice cream while simultaneously eating cold Thai leftovers. Mmm... Thai food. She’d been craving the spicy stuff.

Yukio rolled her eyes. “Fine, but we’ll go for sushi tomorrow. For lunch.”

Sushi for lunch... She couldn’t risk putting her baby in danger. “What if we went for brunch instead? My treat.”

“Well, when you say it like that,” grinned Yukio. She looked at Ororo and grunted. “You done yet?” Ororo wiped lipstick from her teeth. “It’s just gonna get licked off. It’s a waste.”

Ororo chuckled. “Just because you don’t care about your appearance doesn’t mean I don’t care about mine.” Yukio muttered something under her breath and Ororo caught the tail end of it. She bursted out laughing and held her stomach as she laughed. “Calm down, Yukio, I’m almost--”

“--Did yah’ll see her dress? Oh mah God!” Marie said, looking back at an unseen friend. “I’ll be a minute. Just gotta fix my hair.”

Ororo tensed as she watched Marie walk in. She avoided eye contact with Marie. They had yet to patch up their differences, but Ororo was tired of cowering when Marie walked in. The hatred Ororo once had for Marie was gone, now there was just feelings of longing. Ororo missed her friend, but she wasn’t about to go crawling back to Marie. Not after she caused the rift between Ororo and Jean. Instead, Ororo held her head slightly higher and continued checking for lipstick on her teeth.

“Marie,” Yukio acknowledged flatly.

“Yukio,” Marie returned just as flatly. “Ororo; you look nahce.”

“Thank you,” Ororo said tersely. Capping her lipstick and putting it into her clutch purse, she turned to Yukio. “I’m done. Let’s go.”

“Finally,” Yukio groaned dramatically. Ororo smirked. “You think it’s funny but you really were taking forever--”

“Ororo,” Marie called.

Ororo looked back, her face indifferent. “Yes, Marie? Something you’d like to say?”

Marie, for a moment, looked repentant. Ororo held her breath, waiting to hear it. She just as though Marie owed her an apology; adults did not go off half cocked and embarrassing each other like that. After an awkward, pregnant pause, Marie spoke up. “You look really pretty.”

Ororo wanted to scream and cuss Marie out, but she said thank you and walked off. She was, after all, better than public embarrassment, name calling, and throwing coffee in people's faces. “God, I hate that bitch,” Yukio whispered. “After what she did to you.”

“I did it to myself,” Ororo whispered back. “But thank you.” Her eyes met Logan’s; he discreetly motioned for her to meet him outside. “If you’d excuse me.”

“O’course.”

Logan followed Ororo’s long form, his pants becoming tighter. God, she looked so sexy in that dress. How dare she do that to him?- dress like Viper’s antipode and look so sexy while doing it. When they were alone he was gonna show her just how... bothered... that dress made him. But first they had business to attend to, the trick being how to act like they were just chatting each other up. Logan joined her out on the balcony, a shot of whiskey in hand.

“You look handsome,” she said softly, tucking a loose strand of white hair back. She’d put her hair in a braided chignon, but the wind was doing its best in messing it up. Logan really did look handsome. The suit fit the hard planes of his body and left her wanting to tear it off his body.

“Eh. I feel goofy,” he said, raising his arms, “but thank you. High praise comin’ from you.” Logan put his whiskey on the ledge. “You look gorgeous, darlin’.”

“Thank you,” she blushed. Ororo took a second to look at him before turning away. She rested her elbows on the ledge and looked out at the city. New York was always so beautiful at night. “So we both look our best tonight,” she said absentmindedly.

Logan hummed his agreement while swishing his whiskey around in the glass. He took a second to look out at the city, taking in the lights and how noisy it was. He wanted to be alone with her in quiet, but this wasn’t so bad. “So did you get the pictures?” he asked excitedly and quietly.

Ororo grinned and opened her clutch purse. She wasn’t just keeping her cosmetics and keys in the thing. Ororo slowly pulled out a black and white photo of their baby and handed it to Logan. He snatched the photo and just gazed at it in awe.

In a sea of black was a little grey form. Logan had never seen something so beautiful... Well, he had-- his or her mother was an absolute stunner-- but this was different. That little blob was a little piece of him in her. His heart did a strange swoop to his gut and he just felt warm. They were parents and he was looking at photographic proof. Logan wanted to drop to his knees and kiss her still flat stomach, but he couldn’t. He had to wait.

“So beautiful, Ro,” he said, his voice dreamy and cherishing. He rested his cheek in his palm and smiled stupidly at the picture, oblivious to the noise in New York. The world suddenly left quieter and much nicer. “Just... fuckin’ perfect.”

“Only you would curse when looking at a sonogram,” Ororo joked.

Logan laughed. “I’m sure I’m not the first dad in the world to say their kid is fuckin’ perfect.” Dad. Oh, he liked that word. It felt nice. “Did you get extras?” he asked suddenly. She nodded. “Good.” He took out his wallet and put the picture away, safe from where Viper might get it. When he got home, though, he was framing it. He turned back to Ororo, serious. “What’d the doctor say?”

“She said I’m fine. Two months along. She gave me some vitamins and said I should up my protein intake.”

“Good,” he agreed. He was nervous about that. While he was positive she’d get enough calcium and vitamins, he wasn’t sure she’d get enough protein what with her vegetarian diet. “She say if you needed to gain weight?”

“She said my weight is fine so far but I should expect to put on at least twenty pounds.”

“Any foods you should avoid?” he drilled, his arms crossed over his chest.

“The usuals: raw meats, certain fish, unwashed veggies, certain milks and cheeses...”

“I’m not worried about the meat and fish but you better wash those vegetables. Wash ‘em twice. The same goes for your fruits. And don’t you dare go out and drink caffeine. I’ll buy you a truck load of tea, but don’t you dare drink a coffee or soda.” Ororo tried to fight her laughter but failed. “I’m serious, woman! Don’t--”

“Serious about what, dearest?” asked Viper, walking out onto the balcony. Ororo fell silent, their reality coming back as she watched Viper but her hand in the crook of Logan’s elbow. Logan quickly shot her an apologetic look. “Serious about what?”

“Nothin’ ya need ta concern yourself with, Ophelia,” Logan said, anger laced in his words.

“Hm,” she said dismissively. Turning to face Ororo, Ophelia smiled. “So what’s your name? And I love your dress, by the way. White’s so... chic.”

Ororo looked at Viper’s black Marchesa gown. It looked expensive and fresh off the runway. Ororo wondered if she killed the model who wore it... “Ororo,” Ororo said, “Ororo Munroe.”

“Ororo Munroe,” Viper said slowly, trying it out. “How exotic. It must be African. What’s it mean?”

Ororo gave a tired sigh. “It is. It means beauty.”

Ophelia hummed. “How fitting.” She turned to Logan. “Wouldn’t you agree, Logan? She’s incredibly beautiful.”

“Yes,” he agreed, his voice... Nervous? “She is.”

“Are you married?” Viper asked suddenly.

“Divorced,” Ororo said, unsure as to why she said that.

“How sad. Any man would be lucky to have you. But I guess not everyone can be so happily married as Logan and I,” she said. Viper looked at her husband and gave a contemptuous smile. “Despite our bumps in the road.” After an awkward pause, Ophelia turned back to Ororo. “We should be getting back to the party. People to meet,” she explained brightly.

“Right,” Ororo said, annoyed at Viper’s existence and Logan’s obedience. Ororo turned back to the ledge and watched the city lights, annoyed.

“It was nice meeting you, Ororo,” Viper said as she walked back to the glass doors. When Logan held the door open for Viper, she paused. “Oh, and Ororo?” Ororo looked back, but out of courtesy and not respect. “A bit of advice: You should try looking in different places for a man. There are no good men in bars, but you look too...” Viper flicked her eyes over Ororo’s form, “mature to be hanging in bars.” They both glanced at a tense Logan. “But I sympathize with you if you’ve tried; the good ones are all taken.”
Chapter 11 by babs
Author's Note: This is after the fundraiser FYI.
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Loosening his bowtie, Logan tried his absolute hardest to not start yelling in the back of a limo. Viper paid him no mind, texting away on her phone as though she hadn’t ruined a special moment between lovers. God, he wanted to wring her neck. Fuck his vow to never harm a woman-- Viper was the goddamn devil and she needed to go back to Hell. His knuckles flexed, the joints popping from the strain.

“That was a nice party,” she mused. “Wouldn’t you say?” she asked, looking at him. “I think Ororo enjoyed herself.” Her phone vibrated and she immediately went back to texting. “She’s incredibly beautiful. I can see why you sleep with her.”

“Her beauty ain’t the only reason I sleep with her. You’re a beautiful woman and I’d sooner die than put my dick into that desert you call your snatch,” he said crudely.

“So you’re not denying it?” It was framed as less a question and more a statement.

“No point in denying it.” Logan grabbed the bottle of scotch sitting idly in the back and poured himself a glass. He needed it. He was able to drink two glasses before the driver pulled up to their mansion. They thanked the driver and got out, the driver none the wiser to what was about to happen inside.

Once inside, Logan made a beeline to the kitchen, specifically the fridge. “Getting more alcohol, Logan?” He grunted dismissively. “You sure you’re not an alcoholic?” Viper sneered.

“Yup. But if I was one you could blame yerself. You make me want to be an alcoholic,” he said, grabbing a Molson from the fridge. He popped the tab and took a hearty gulp.

“I bet Ororo likes your drinking.”

“She don’t but she understands it’s not serious. She has common sense.” Logan took a sip. “Unlike some people.”

“Oh, I have common sense.” Viper crossed her arms and watched Logan. “And pride.”

“You saying I don’t have pride or Roro doesn’t have pride?” he asked cooly.

“Roro?- that’s cute.” Viper hated the anger bubbling under her skin. “Yes, I was talking about your whore.”

“Hey!” Logan shouted, lowering the bottle from his lips. “She’s not a whore.”

“Then what is she, Logan, if she’s not a whore?”

“She’s...” Logan put the bottle down, “Everything you’ll never be. She’s perfect.”

Viper let out a bark of laughter. “If she’s so perfect, why are you still with me?”

“She wouldn’t let me be with her.” It wasn’t a lie, but it was enough of the truth. “But I will be with her. Soon.”

“Oh, really?” Logan nodded. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why?”

“Because we’re going to have a baby.”

It was quiet in the kitchen for all of two seconds before Viper started laughing hysterically. She gripped her sides and doubled over, unable to contain herself. Logan watched, assured Viper had taken a dive off the deep end; he expected her rancor but not her laughter. Regardless, he still didn’t give a damn about what she felt. She could find the situation funny all she wanted, but the didn’t change the fact that Logan was still going to leave her.

When Viper calmed, she wiped tears from the corner of her eyes. “Oh, Logan, you idiot. You really think you’ll leave me now that’s she’s pregnant.” She clucked her tongue. “You should’ve left me sooner because now...”

“What the hell ’re you going on about?”

“You wouldn’t leave me before. This is an excuse.”

“It’s a reason--”

“And if she wasn’t pregnant?” Viper asked. She approached him, her head shaking lazily. “What if she wasn’t even alive?” She cupped Logan’s cheek, having transfixed him with her words. She dug her nails into his flesh and forced him to look at her. “What if your baby and whore were dead, Logan? Would you still leave me?”

“You wouldn’t.” He tried to be confident in his answer, but his voice wavered ever so slightly.

“Would I?” She cocked a brow. “You about what I used to do. My... previous line of work.” Viper flashed Logan a cruel smile. “If you see her, dear husband, I will kill her,” she promised. Viper, holding his shocked and worried gaze, nodded slowly. “I will kill her.” When she was sure the message had sunk in, she poured his remaining beer down the drain and took a step back. “Don’t stay up too late, dear."
Chapter 12 by babs
Author's Note: to clarify, this chapter DOES NOT follow eleven chronologically. back in chapter two it says Ororo made a resolution to stop seeing Logan: this is why-- and where-- the resolution was made.
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It was an idle thought that made Ororo realize she was in love with Logan. He was over at her townhouse, after they spent an afternoon making love. To say she was spent was an apt description. He did this crazy thing to her clit with his tongue and Ororo went absolutely hoarse from screaming. The neighbors knocked on her walls, letting her know that they didn’t really care to know how great Logan’s tongue felt inside her pussy.

So they lounged on the floor of her living room, unable to move from the spot where she attacked him. And besides, it was kind of nice lying on her rug, letting their bodies be warmed from each other and the fading afternoon sun. It was a nicer way of spending the afternoon than going on another mindless date with one of Scott’s friends and ten times more entertaining than a ten hour flight to Madripoor with Viper.

She laid on Logan’s stomach, her hair cascading over him and littering the floor. Logan, half in a daze, contented himself with stroking the length of Ororo’s arms and twirling his fingers in her hair every so often. They weren’t really talking, and if they were, it would be less about sex or their lives or their work more about something that truly revealed something about themselves. They’d long since passed the stage of complaining about their lives to justify their sins.

Intermittently, Ororo would kiss Logan’s stomach or his chest, and he would laugh. That would always make Ororo smile because she would feel the bounce of his stomach and feel his chest rumble from the sound. She’d never been so relaxed and she had a feeling Logan felt the same way.

How nice it would be, though, to feel this way all the time, she mused as she kissed his belly button for the hundredth time. (He was ticklish there, of this she was now certain.) She sighed and laid her head on his chest, looking at him. He looked down at her and smiled, the small wrinkles on his face turning up.

It would be so nice.

Ororo pressed a kiss on his heart and shifted to lie more firmly on him. She wasn’t worried about crushing him; she didn’t weigh all that much and Logan was a pretty big guy for his age. She ran her fingers through his hair, noticing the several silver hairs peppering his unruly black locks. Logan had great hair; she always made sure she told him.

One of Logan’s hands traveled the length of her spine while the other cupped her cheek, thumbing her lips.

It eventually dawned on Ororo that she’d never been this relaxed not only in her life, but with T’Challa. With T’Challa, there was always some strange tension with him, but always on the edges of her mind. T’Challa made her stand straighter, act prouder, and always made her work harder for... Something. She never knew why she was like that, or what the “something” she was trying to attain was. She’d always assumed it was because T’Challa was her better half, always making her want to improve herself.

Maybe, she realized, she didn’t need to improve herself. She was with Logan doing something absolutely horrible and she didn’t feel the need to change anything.

It was a horrible realization because, well, she should’ve seen their relationship as tawdry and she didn’t. She shouldn’t have been so happy with Logan but she was.

She pressed a kiss to his sternum.

The very next day she swore to stop seeing him.
Chapter 13 by babs
Viper always been a master tactician. Before she tricked Logan into marrying her, she worked as a leading advisor to HYDRA, a “security” corporation that made guns and software. She was more or less a company mercenary and a damn good one at that. With her skills, she helped HYDRA take over several smaller businesses and damn near set up an conglomerate. And she did that by finding each companies’ selling point or breaking point.

More often than not, she found their breaking point first. Viper was a master at finding out people’s secrets and bringing them to light. That was how Viper got him.

Logan wanted to slap himself for being so stupid. He had, once again, underestimated Viper’s prowess. Of course she knew about his affair. The woman knew Logan’s schedule and habits better than Logan himself at times. The woman didn’t let anything past her. Hell, she probably knew about the pregnancy before he told her.

When Logan first tried to leave Viper, she threatened to let everyone know about his violent past, to ruin him and his name. When she first told him, Logan laughed her off. This woman wasn’t superhuman, she was just a normal woman. And then she showed Logan all the “evidence” she’d been saving-- and sometimes fabricating-- since she first saw him. The woman planned not in days, but in years. Logan would never overcome her lies.

Logan had been beaten down and lost all hope. He’d been pushed into a corner and threatened. For a long time, he thought he was done for. He figured Viper had his balls in a vice grip and there was nothing he could do to fight her. If he tried fighting back, she would surely win. He was done for.

And then she went and threatened the two people Logan loved more than himself.

Viper, who was a master strategist, had seriously miscalculated.

You see, the thing about caging and cornering someone was that you left them no escape route. The trapped person was left with the one option you should never give a desperate person: To fight back directly.

For right now, Logan didn’t know his cards, but he knew the hand he hand he was dealt. He wasn’t about to stop seeing Ororo and he wasn’t about to be an absentee father. His only problem was that he didn’t know how to fight back and successfully win. Viper didn’t have many breaking points and over the course of their twelve year marriage, Logan knew very little about Viper, only that she was not to be fucked with and she was a huge bitch.

Logan wasn’t daunted, though. Just because he didn’t know how to get her didn’t mean that she didn’t have weaknesses and it definitely didn’t mean he wouldn’t find them. He would just have to wait for an opening and take full advantage of it. And if that meant staying away from Ororo, for now?- he would.

He just hoped an opening would come soon.
Chapter 14 by babs
Author's Note: This connects directly with Chapter 1, so consider everything after this chapter "current time."
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“Tell me about it, from beginning to now.”

“...And that was nearly two weeks ago. I haven’t seen or heard from him since,” Ororo concluded, wiping her eyes dry. It was nice being able to talk about it. It gave her so much relief since she had yet to tell Ali or Yukio about her pregnancy. It was an even greater relief to have Jean listen to her, but Ororo wasn’t about to admit that without an apology.

Jean, who’d been listening with tissues in hand, was shocked. She was still upset about what Ororo was doing, but it was much less so. Poor Ororo, she really made a mess of things, Jean thought pityingly. The woman didn’t need more drama.

“Have you tried calling him? Has he tried calling you?” Jean asked.

Ororo sighed and shook her head. “Whenever I call, it just goes straight to voicemail. I mean, I know this is life changing, but I thought he was happy.” Ororo’s lower lip wavered. “Happier than I am.”

“Oh, Ororo,” Jean started.

“Don’t. I... can’t take any more pity. It makes me feel worse about everything.”

Jean nodded. “Well... I’m excited. I’ll admit that.” Jean smiled and put a hand on Ororo’s slightly curved stomach. “My godchild is in there.”

Ororo laughed mirthlessly. “Oh, so I guess you have amnesia about that coffee you threw in my face,” Ororo said flippantly.

Jean pursed her lips, wanting to say something cutting, but decided it wouldn’t help anything. And she was tired of being angry. Being angry didn’t save her marriage and it certainly wasn’t going to save her friendship, a friendship she valued more than she let on. Definitely more than some stupid fling with a married man. “Ororo, I’m sorry I did that. It was wrong.”

Ororo regarded her, trying to discern Jean’s honesty. “You publicly embarrassed me, Jean. You nearly got me fired.”

“I know,” Jean said, looking down. She tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. “I was almost fired, too. I’m actually under a sort of grace period with Charles. I got a pay cut and I won’t get it back until I prove I’m not going to do it again. Charles actually told me I should be grateful we’re understaffed.” Ororo bursted out in laughter. “Did he tell you the same thing?”

Ororo nodded. “I didn’t get a pay cut, though.”

Jean snapped her fingers. “Damn.” She smiled at Ororo, then looked ashamed. “I’m really sorry, Ororo. We both are. Me and Marie?”

“I’ll believe it when Marie apologizes,” Ororo said with a ‘humph.’ She folded her arms under her breasts, sore and heavy. (Whatever dumb ass said they were looking forward to pregnancy for the bigger breasts obviously had never been pregnant before.) “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Am I forgiven?” Jean asked.

Ororo closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes. I’m still upset, but at least I now know you’re sorry.”

Jean smiled weakly, masking her disappointment. She half expected Ororo to take her back with open arms, but she could understand the distrust and upset. Jean would feel the same way, so it was all understandable. Hopefully, though, Ororo would be over it in time to declare Jean the godmother. Jean didn’t want the honor going to Yukio.

“So? Can I see the little guy? Or girl.” Jean pressed her hand to Ororo’s stomach and grinned. “Oh, it’s a girl. I know it.”

“Jean, you’re not a psychic,” Ororo said as she walked to retrieve the baby picture.

“Fifty/fifty chance to be one hundred percent right!” Jean called. She heard Ororo’s laughter and smiled. When Ororo was firmly out of sight, Jean palmed her forehead and shook her head. Ororo wasn’t excited about being pregnant and the father was a jerk. Poor Ororo, she really made a mess of things.
Chapter 15 by babs
Two months.

Two goddamn, heart wrenching months.

That was how long Logan had to wait before he found an opening. And what an opening! It was everything he wished it would be: Loud, messy, damning, and on the news. And even better was how it involved another man making Logan’s affair look less original. Of course, it couldn’t immediately be tied back to Viper, but it definitely had hooks in her past.

Johann Schmidt, the head of a pharmaceutical company, made the big mistake of letting slip an anti-Semitic slur during an interview on national television. He didn’t know he was being recorded-- they were on “break.” When he said the word, it was during that layover news channels often had-- that break between “we’ll be back after this commercial break” and “cut.” Instead of holding his fake smile, he relaxed in his seat and started talking.

A rookie mistake for a veteran.

When it happened, people started questioning his employees if they knew about his racist tendencies. The ensuing investigation uncovered all sorts of scandals, particularly the human testing of his drugs. The drugs did horrible things to people; they caused cancer, infertility in men, fetal deformities of the facial kind, and polyps in the colon, stomach, and uterus. Schmidt’s response, of course, was to place the blame on other companies who had a stake in the testing.

The press had a field day.

Logan watched, so absorbed that he nearly forgot about Viper’s connection to Schmidt. Almost. stray article surfaced on the internet asking how Schmidt could’ve gotten away with his atrocious crimes against humanity for so long without being noticed. The author asked the most important question of all, the question the press had yet to ask: Why was Schmidt letting all the superfluous names go and not the name that not only okayed the testing but protected him for so long?

It’d been glaring Logan in the face for so long, just waiting to be discovered. No wonder Viper left her cushy life at HYDRA to marry a poor bar owner. Viper was a tactician, after all. She saw this coming and got out before she could go down.

Oh, Viper was clever, but not that clever. She was human, after all.

In the midst of all the chaos, Logan took a trip to HYDRA headquarters under the pretense of wanting to talk to Kraken, the founder of HYDRA. Kraken, who wasn’t expecting Logan’s intention, gladly saw him. But after ten minutes, Kraken knew he’d made a major mistake. Wanting to avoid to the press conference, Kraken gave Logan everything needed to get Viper to agree to a divorce so long as the information was never released. Logan agreed to burn the records after their divorce.

Logan had never been so happy to go home.


The day Logan showed Viper everything was probably the second happiest day of his life. He didn’t tell her off like he’d always imagined, instead he took extreme pleasure in watching her face fall as she signed the divorce papers with a shaking hand and tear filled eyes.

“You’ve finally gotten what you’ve always wanted,” she said, her voice wavering. She clicked the pen and handed it to Logan.

“Yup,” he said happily. Logan put the pen in his pocket; he wanted to save it as a memento.

“You’ll finally get to be with her.”

“Yup,” he repeated, this time giving her a confused look. Shit. She was really crying. “What’s wrong with you?”

Viper gave him a desperate smile behind her tears. “You care?” Viper wiped a tear from her eyes. “I’ve been waiting for twelve years to get you to care about me and it finally took until now.” Viper frowned infinitesimally. “I honestly only ever wanted us to be happy.”

“We never woulda been happy, Viper. I hate you.”

“Viper?” she asked. “That’s what you call me?” She didn’t know? Logan nodded slowly, damned confused now. Viper breathed a laugh. “Fitting, I guess.” Viper moved towards him, lacking all the maliciousness she once held over Logan’s head. She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it once before pressing a kiss on his cheek. “I... hope you’re happy with her.”
Chapter 16 by babs
Lugging home groceries was something Ororo once liked to do when she was thirteen pounds lighter. Back when Ororo was a health nut-- she still was, but less so after eating a whole pizza on her own-- she would jog to the grocery store and purposefully buy jugs of milk, orange juice, and other heavy stuff to give her arms a workout. Now her stomach was heavy and she swore she waddled when she walked. At least she was close to home.

Ororo felt her baby do a backflip and she smiled. She was twenty three weeks along and finally at terms with what was going on. She went through a dark period, as was expected, but there really wasn’t anything she could do about it. What she could do was accept what was about to happen and prepare. And after feeling her baby kick for the first time, she cried tears of joy-- something totally unexpected.

Her baby was uncooperative, though. Every time she tried to find out the sex of her baby, the kid was flip and around and refused to give the obstetrician a clear view. It infuriated Ororo, but it was kind of funny. The kid wasn’t out of the womb and she was already letting Ororo know he or she was independent and refused labels. And it gave Ororo a definite sign as to who her baby took after temperamentally.

She wanted to sigh. Logan had disappeared on her and didn’t bother to even say sorry. Ororo shook her head and continued on her trek home.

She would have to buy a car soon. Ororo had been avoiding it. She carpooled and cared too much about the environment. Not to be funny, but she honestly felt connected to the elements. She exalted when it rained or snowed or shined. Ororo never had a “bad weather day.” All weather was good, but what people were doing to the climate was awful. She didn’t want to buy a car as a way to cut down her carbon footprint, but she had to think about her baby now.

Her kid needed a car. What if there was something serious and she had no way of getting there? Ororo didn’t want to think about her kid landing themselves in the hospital, but it had to be considered. And what if--

“I need ta get you a car, darlin’.” Ororo stared at Logan, not moving. He was on her stoop, smiling, a duffle bag resting idly beside him. “What if something happens to our baby? Hey, darlin’, calm down! I don’t think a pregnant woman should be moving so quickly--”

“You insufferable ass!” she screeched as she slapped him across the face. When she finally started functioning again, she dropped her brand new groceries and rushed over to slap him. The ruined groceries were well worth the satisfying sting in her hand. God, it wasn’t enough-- slapping him-- but it was a start. “You... You ass!”

Logan moved away from her, smiling regardless the red hand print on his face. He picked up her groceries and didn’t pay mind to the people watching the spectacle. Were he in their shoes, he probably would watch, too. (A pregnant woman dropping eighty dollars worth of food to slap a man across the face was always fun.) He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and lifted his duffle. “Shall we go in?”

Ororo unlocked her door and let him in. She watched him kick his duffle bag to the corner and then move to put her groceries away-- after washing them, of course-- her hands on her hips the entire time. (The sight was so unintentionally cute.) When everything was put away, she continued glaring at him, further infuriated by that shit eating grin she wanted to wipe off his face.

“You’re gettin’ big--”

“How dare you, Logan? How dare you just pop back in and out of my life and acting casual about it?” she shouted. “I get pregnant and you say you’re going to take care of it and then you just... You left me!” she said in a hurry. Logan opened his mouth to speak but was cut off. “I didn’t even get a message! Do I register so lowly on your mind that you couldn’t even deign to send me a crummy text? Hell, I would’ve accepted a damn fax!” She scoffed and threw up her hands. “But what did I expect? Honor from a man who cheats on his wife? Yeah right.”

“Ororo,” Logan tried.

“I guess I know why, though.”

“You do?” he asked, genuinely confused.

She pointed at her bulging tummy. “You didn’t want to own up to the consequences. You only want to be around when you can fuck--”

“That’s a lie and you know it!”

“Can you disprove it?” she hissed.

“I’m here, now, trying to make things right between us!”

“Oh, so I’m supposed to forget those two months you ignored me? Because you’re here, now, and that matters more.”

“Yes! It means I’m fucking trying--”

“Well, goodie for you!” she cheered, throwing her arms out. “You’re trying now and that means more than the two months I felt ignored and lonely and depressed.”

Logan palmed his face. There was no logic with a pregnant woman and she was making him feel like shit. “Look, I know what I did was wrong--”

“Obviously,” she muttered.

“--But I was trying to protect you.”

They stared at each other quietly, and for a second, Logan wondered if he’d won. And then she exploded. “That’s the absolute WORST excuse I have ever heard!”

“It’s the goddamn truth, Ro! You don’t know Viper like I know her--”

“I know she’s a perceptive woman.”

Logan gave a long suffered sigh. He moved towards her and was mildly surprised when she let him take her wrist and move her towards her couch. He sat her down then moved to rifle around in his duffle. Ororo got a glimpse of clothes in his bag. When he returned, he was holding a few pieces of paper with writing on them. “You remember all that stuff on the news about Schmidt?”

“The racist?”

Logan nodded, handing Ororo the papers. “Well, he knew Viper. They worked together at one point...”

Ororo listened intently, intrigued by the story Logan told her. He didn’t go into detail and he didn’t give her names other than Viper’s, but it was more than enough. Ororo had seriously underestimated the kind of woman Viper was. Viper’s story should’ve been turned into a movie--it had all the makings of a good thriller and a fantastic scandal.

When he finished, Logan moved the papers with Viper and HYDRA insignia on them and showed her a new piece of paper. One with his signature and Viper’s signature. Ororo knew what those papers were, having been well acquainted with them not a year and a half ago. That was a sobering thought. Two years ago, Ororo had been married and not even suspecting what was about to happen to her life.

“You got her to sign the divorce papers.”

He nodded and put an arm around her disappearing waist. “I told you I was going to take care of it.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips and smiled. “I know you thought I would never leave her and I know you probably hate me for not being around, but I never gave up on us. I did what I had to do to keep you two safe.” Logan gently palmed her belly and smiled at her size. “I’m never gonna do that to you two again. I’m not going anywhere.”

Ororo was many things, but she wasn’t delusional.

Taking back Logan would mean many things, one of them being the possible loss of her tentative friendship with Jean and Marie. They’d finally reunited and were trying to get past everything that happened. Taking back Logan meant that Marie would definitely flip and Jean would more than likely have a hard time wanting to be around Ororo.

And more importantly, she didn’t want to see Logan and she didn’t want to hear him wax poetic about the man he was going to be in the face of the man he was. He missed so much time with her and put her through so much emotional stress.

But no matter what she wanted, she was in no place to start to arguing. Ororo was pregnant with his baby and he had every right to see their child if he was serious about seeing their child. If he was really stepping up to the plate, she wasn’t going to put him through the ropes and test his willpower.

So she smiled, putting her hand over Logan’s protective hand.

“I love you.”
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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks for reading and all the reviews.
This story archived at http://https://rolorealm.com/viewstory.php?sid=10446