Author: Batman_Wolverine
Rating: PG15
Summary: Two people, two totally different lives….a chance meeting. Are first impressions always correct? (AU)

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the x-men character in any of the different Marvel universes (Cartoon, Comic or Movie). All owned and copyrighted by Marvel Comics.

Note: I had taken down a previous WIP of the same name. Its muse had left for parts unknown and thanks to an interested party, 'Vaberella', I re-read and you know what, she was right. Logan was too shy, almost Scooter like wimp in that one. So, have gone through a large part of it again and with 'Dreams' ending and 'Survival' also drawing to a close, should have the time to deal with this sooner.

---

01. Prologue: Divergence

Twenty-seven years ago,
Province of Alberta, Canada, near the city of Edmonton,

“Man, I can’t do this.” Standing out in the frigid Canadian winter, the large, burly figure blew out smoke as he turned to his partner. “I got kids of my own.”
“So do I Jack,” his partner grunted as he heaved the sack from the car’s trunk. “But ya kno’, if it is says to be killin’ him, we kill him. Its either him or us and our kids.”
“But Bill…”
“Look, we do it like this. Just put one in the side of his head, and a good one in his leg. That way it will be the cold who will do him in, not us.”

“….”

“Come on, I said we ain’t the ones takin’ his life. It’s the damn cold.” The taller, bulkier Bill drew out his hunting knife. Sharp and silent. No one would even know about it.
“….’k, but make it fast and I ain’t gonna see it.” Jack stepped away. “He looks just much like my Charlie.”
“Pansy,” Jack scoffed and with two swift slashes, drew out blood onto the stark white snow. “Done. There. Ain’t nothin’ ta it.”

“Yeah, well, lets get outta here before anyone shows up.” Jack was already half way around the car, just holding down the bile churning in his stomach.

About half an hour later,

“Oh God, Sister Teresa, Sister Angela,” the black and white garbed female called out to her sisters. “Come quick.”
“What’s the matter Mother?” Both nuns, their habit similar to their older colleague, rushed out from the back door of their station wagon. Even the driver, Old man Eugene stepped and hurried as fast as his arthritic legs would carry him.

“Mary mother of God!” Sister Angela exclaimed at the sight of the bloodied body. “Its just…a…..”
“Stop gawking junior,” Eugene snapped at his son, Eugene Jr. “Get the poor kid inside. He still alive? Ain’t he?”

“Yeah…barely.” Although almost giant like in built, Eugene Jr. was a bit slow in the uptake and shy to boot, something that his old man thought made him a sissy.

Nodding his head at this father’s order, he lifted the small body as if it were a feather and carried it to the station wagon.

“What kind of monsters be that treat a child like this?” The usually reserved Teresa bristled in barely contained anger. Taking the back seat of the truck, she set on providing first aid to young boy.

----

Twenty-four years, three months and seventeen days ago,
New York City, New York, United States of America,

“Can I…? David?” The barely audible whisper clearly sounded over the pin drop silence of the room.
“Huh,” the dark skinned man sitting beside the bed roused from his half asleep state, looked up at the intruder. “Hey Charles, come in…come in.”

Carrying a large bouquet of assorted flowers, the young, dashing Charles Xavier stepped through the door and into the room located in the maternity ward of the Westchester County General Hospital.

On the bed lay, N’Dare Munroe, David’s wife and the mother of their newly born daughter, a seemingly bald, caramel skinned baby that lay a baby-cot beside her mother.

Setting the flowers at a safe distance, Charles headed towards the baby, a smile forming on his face at the cute frown on the baby’s face as he caressed her chubby cheeks, her hand bunched tightly near her face.

“Sweet child,” the newly appointed Professor of Psychology mused. “May you have everything in life and more…”
“From your lips to the Goddess’s ears,” N'Dare spoke from the bed, her tone tired and sleepy, but full of motherly love.
“Congratulations N’Dare, both of you,” Charles stood back up. “Have you decided on a name?”

“Yes,” David nodded; his pride and joy clearly written on his face. “It was N’Dare who suggested it.”

“Ororo, beauty...beautiful,” the mother whispered, and as if on cue, the child tilted its head towards her, revealing snow colored locks and she opened her eyes….

“Blue!” Charles’s squeaked, suddenly excited. “She’s got…”
“Blue eyes and white hair,” both parents smirked at him. An avid science nut, they knew that Charles would react this way.
“But…how?”
“N’Dare’s family…” was all David said, handing the explanation over to his wife.

“Its quite common in my family,” the regal African Princess explained. “White hair, cat like blue eyes, skin a bit lighter than that usually found in people from my tribe.”

“Like you have,” Charles pointed out. That was the first thing that he had noticed when he had met his friend David’s wife for the first time. Although having seen skin shades varying from almost back to a light brown in the people of African origin in America, it was the first time he had ever seen in a person who had just arrived from Africa...except for a few special cases, like N'Dare and now Ororo...it was as if there was a glow in her skin, the same glow that he could see in her daughter…and once again the scientist in his was intrigued.

“Drop it Charles. We all know what you are thinking, and yes, she already has more hair than you,” David caught onto the way the gears in his friend’s mind were turning. If given the time, he was sure that Charles would find an explanation for it, or spend his whole life trying. However, as far as he was concerned, he was not only content but also happy with his life. He had a wife that he still couldn’t believe agreed to marry him, and if that wasn’t enough, he now had a little princess of his own. There was nothing else that could make him happier, nothing else he wanted….except…. “Hey Charles, I hope you don’t mind…” he looked at N’Dare and got a confirmatory nod. “I…we have something to ask of you.”

“Yes?” Charles tore his eyes from the child. Seeing the three of them like this….only of things had gone differently in his life. ‘Moira,’ he bit down a bitter sigh. She had made her choice, her life…a life in which he had not position, no say; no nothing.

“We want….We would like…uh…”

“What David is trying to say…” the bolder N’Dare took things into her own hand. “..is that, we would like you to be Ororo’s godfather.”

The dumbstruck expression on Charles’s face would have been comical to both N’Dare and David, had it not been it for them.

“Charles?” For a moment, David thought that they had asked wrong. Even if they were friends, very good friends, and their race had never been an issue between them…maybe now….

“Meh..ugh,” Charles cleared his throat. “You want me to be…” noticing the apprehension rising in his friends’ eyes, he quickly recovered and nodded his head. “I’d be delighted.”
“You sure?” David asked to confirm.
“Why? You have anyone else in mind?”
“Uh…no.”
“Then its settled,” the newly crowned godfather stepped up to his goddaughter’s side.

“From this day forth, I Charles Francis Xavier am the godfather of this child, Ms. Ororo Monroe.”

----

Nineteen Years, eight month and two months ago,
City of Calgary, Alberta, Canada,

“What do you mean he ran away?” The shrill voice echoed through the halls of the Our Saints House for Children. An orphanage, it had been the home of one fifteen year old Logan, until that afternoon.

“He said he ain’t comin’ back?” The short statured boy squeaked in front of the mega-uber-witch, Mrs. Johnson. Warden, uh, caretaker of the home, the wart-witch was a terror that scared everyone, even her diminutive husband, Reginald, Reggie to his friends. The only person who dared to challenge her had been that Logan and although more than happy to lose him, Thelma was worried about the children’s aid she would losing out on.

“Why ain’t he comin’ back?”

“Uh, he says,” Jimmy Broflosky gulped. “He…said, that…he said that he was only stayin’ here causa Sister Teresa and since she ain’t no more, meaning she died, even he doesn’t have anythin’ here ta make him stay.”

“So, what’s he gonna do? Live out there himself?” Thelma bellowed as if challenging Jimmy to oppose her.

Instead of taking the ‘verbal’ bait, Jimmy just nodded dumbly.

“Well good riddance. Let the little fucker die for all I care.”

----

Nineteen years and one months ago,
Cairo, Egypt,

“Yes, can I help you?” The woman at the front desk at the US consulate looked up at the man standing before her.

“Yes,” the man nodded. “My name is Charles Xavier. I am here on an appointment.”
“Just a minute.”

Standing there, the only thought through Charles’s mind was how he was going to handle the situation that awaited him. From what he had heard, things were very bleak…very very bleak.

“You are here for Ororo right?” The woman’s doubt was clear in her eyes. “Do you have the papers and I’ll need to see him identification.”
“Yes,” Charles handed her the appropriate documents.

Gesturing towards the empty chair, the middle aged but slender women hurried off towards the door that let to the interior of the consulate.

The next time Charles saw her, she was not alone….but had a young five year old Ororo with her. The child’s shock and loss was clear in her eyes. Usually a bright blue, they had dulled to an almost grayish black.

“Ororo…” Charles called out softly. Bending down to the child’s level, he reached out and drew her in an embrace, his own heart breaking at the lifelessness in her body. Was this the same Ororo that would never sit quite for even a minute, always on the move, always trying something new…always causing and getting into trouble. ‘What happened to you child?’ He wanted to cry out…..but didn’t….he already knew the answer. His dear friends, David and N’Dare, both had perished in an accident, with Ororo just barely surviving the blast.

That was the reason he was here. Not to fulfill a duty, an obligation, but to fulfill a promise he had made all those years ago.

He had promised to be the child’s godfather and now, with her parents gone, he would fulfill that promise to the best of his ability.

He would be ‘try to be’ her father. Give her all his love….hopefully as much as her real parents had given her.

----

Present day,
Westchester, New York,

“Hiya Logan,” a loud young voice rang out from across the street.
“Hey kid.”

At the same time, several miles away, a class full of children stood up,

“Good morning Miss Monroe.”

“Good Morning Ms. Monroe.”

“Good Morning Class,” the smooth melodious voice of Ms. Ororo Monroe, class teacher of grade six at Xavier’s School for the Gifted, answered from the from the door, immediately silencing the few remaining rowdy students.

“Good Morning Miss Monroe” this time all the students, even the ones who had neglected it before, stood up straight and greeted their Class and English teacher, sitting down as she made her way to her desk, her bag hung over one shoulder, while her other hand clutched the attendance register and her copy of their English literature book.

Reaching her desk, Ororo Monroe did a once over, instantly noting which student was doing what. Her lazuline eyes shone brightly in the sunlight filtering in through the half drawn window blinds. They hue perfectly matching the blue floral top she had on, along with her ‘trademark’ ankle length white skirt and white sandals, her long platinum colored hair, flowing gracefully along her back went right down to below her waist. Even simply dressed, she looked regal in every sense of the word, which given her and her mother’s royal heritage wasn’t far from the truth. At twenty-four years of age, she was one of the youngest teachers at the school and one of the most loved ones. Even though the students knew about her no nonsense behavior, they also knew that she wasn’t partial or one to hold grudge. Always fair to everyone, she truly cared about what she did and how if affected every single one of them, and for that, they both loved and respected her.

The ‘ride’ to such a position, both in eyes of the students and the faculty, had not been an easy one doe her. Joining a year and a half ago, fresh out of college, many thought it to be only because of her father, Professor Charles Xavier, the owner and headmaster of the school, that she got the position. However, it soon became clear that she possessed an uncanny knack and deep passion for teaching. Her ability to seemingly empathize with the students, and to bring herself down to their level, allowed her to form a rapport with even the most difficult students. Finally, eight months ago, she was given her own class; it raised no eyebrows from any of the teaching or non-teaching staff. As for the students, they were more than happy to bid farewell to their previous teacher and welcome Ms. Monroe as their new class teacher.
---

Setting the attendance register on her desk, she was about to start roll call, when a loud deep thump of a motorcycle engine sounded at the front of the school, almost shaking the class windows.

Instantly the students rushed to the windows to see who was it...something for which even Ororo joined them, although for different reasons. While the students were enthralled by the bike and its leather clad rider, neglecting the young girl who had just gotten off the back seat and was walking up the stairs, Ororo’s brow was creased with the noise that the bike seemed to be creating. Although not averse to motorcycles, she did not relish listening to their thump this early in the morning.

*WRROOM WRROOM WRRRROOOOOOMMMMMmmmmm…*

The children Oohed and Aahed as the biker pulled away onto the main road and drove away with a sudden burst of speed.

“Oh man,” a young back with thick glasses was literally jumping off his seat. “Did you see that? That was so Cooool. I bet he hit hundred.”

“Yeah,” his friend nodded whole-heartedly. “Musta done a wheelie too.”

“What’s a wheelie?” The girl caught between their crossfire asked.

“It is when….nah,” the boy stopped his explanation. What’s the use? What do girls know about bikes anyway?

“Aright class,” Ororo’s commanding voice ended any further conversation about the mysterious biker and his AWESOME bike.

----

Reluctantly returning to their seats, the students were drawing out their course books, when a knock at the door drew their attention again. However, whatever excitement that the mystery rider had given them, was lost at the sight of Mr. Scott ‘Hardass’ Summers, the infamous mathematics teacher and vice principal of the school. At thirty-two, he did not fit the normal vice-principal image, well according to Ororo. He wasn’t at all like her vice principal – old, stuffy, overweight, balding Mrs. Jenkins. To her he was a dear friend, calm and collected although a bit obsessive about perfection. However, she knew that not even one student would agree with her. To them he was Mr. Math-head Summers. Apart from his administrative duties, he also taught Mathematics, and was famous for being a hard taskmaster. Although he rarely failed anyone, he almost never gave a mark higher than eighty-five percent, much to the students chagrin.

What drew Ororo’s and everyone else present in the room’s attention; was not her smiling colleague but the quiet Asian girl standing beside him.

“Good morning Mr. Summers.” Ororo greeted him with his formal name in front of the students. “Class!”
“Good morning Mr. Summers,” the students weren’t as forthcoming and mumbled the greeting in a half-hearted manner. This was going to be their first year under Scott Summers and they had already heard frightening tales about him from their seniors. Some, whose older siblings had gone through Scott’s classes, or were still under him, had seen the effect that he had on others.

“Good morning Ms. Monroe,” Scott responded as he stepped into the class. “Good morning class.”

---

Ororo knew the reason for Scott’s visit. She had received the memo about a new student admission. Turning to Scott, she received a nod, letting her know she could begin.

“Class, today we have a new student joining us,” she spoke clearly as she extended a hand towards the girl now standing just inside the door.
“I would like all of you to welcome your newest classmate,” she brought the girl in front of her, both hands resting on her shoulder. “Amiko Yashida”

Calls of Hi and Hello came from different students, who looked curiously at the girl, who bowed her head slightly, voicing a soft, “Hello.” Although soft, her voice was firm as well as carrying a barest tinge of an accent.

----

Getting Amiko settled in the second row desk and chair, Ororo walked outside to join Scott, who was waiting to get her initial feedback and supply her with his own views.

“She looks shy,” Ororo observed, glancing back to the girl, who was busy getting her things stored under the desk. Whether deliberately or out of habit, she kept her eyes averted from the other students.
“Very,” Scott confirmed. “That’s why we decided enroll her into your class. You have experience with dealing with interesting cases like Amiko here.”
Smiling at her friend’s remark, Ororo nodded her head. “I’ll see what I can do.” She assured him.
“Thanks,” Scott responded. “There is another thing I wanted to talk to you about. It’s also pertains to Amiko. Her father has requested if one of the teachers would agree to give her extra lessons…a private tuition,” he clarified. “She is extremely intelligent, but has a weak point – English, particularly English grammar. I was wondering if you could take that too, seeing that you yourself had a similar problem when you were younger and can relate to her better. He has offered…no, he had asked that the teacher quote his or her tuition rate,” Scott corrected himself. Although he had not actually met the girl’s father, his assistant Ms. D’Ancanto, had done that, she had specifically told him that the man had repeatedly said that he wasn’t asking for a hand out and would only allow the girl to take the tuition if the teacher agreed to take the money. Otherwise he’d find someone else.

“The problem maybe that neither of her parents seems to have a strong command over English,” Scott speculated. “At least not at good as they would like her to have.”

----

Ororo knew the difficulty of not knowing the language properly. It was something she had faced as a child and something she was sure young Amiko was facing too. Having spent many of her formative years in Africa, she had very little exposure to English. To overcome that hurdle, she not only made an extra effort but also ultimately converted it into her strength, going as far as to get her graduate degree in English literature. Such was her command and the appreciation for her work that even before completing her masters’ degree, which she breezed through, she was offered a well paying university post and a PhD seat.

However, that was not what she wanted. She wanted to teach, but not at the university level, but to young children, minds that were fresh and inquisitive and open to the world around them. To accomplish that, she completed her teacher’s course and joined her father’s school.

“I’ll do it,” Ororo replied, much to Scott’s relief.

“Thanks Ororo, you’re a life saver,” he sighed. Noting the time, he bade her farewell and headed towards his office.

“I know,” she smiled, shaking her head at his youthful antics. ‘Scotty Summers, vice-principal, who would have guessed’ she thought wistfully.

Clearing her head, she too reentered the class and began her attendance…fifteen minutes later than normal.

After the class, she asked Amiko to stay back an extra five minutes and gave her a sealed envelope to give to her father, explaining the time and schedule for the tuitions….as well as other monetary details.

“Thank you” the small girl managed a toothy smile at her teacher, who towered almost two feet over her.

Ororo smiled at her, a strange thought stuck in her head as she walked away. Amiko’s shyness came from her hesitation in English, but underneath, she seemed to be quite a precocious child.

‘Will have to keep an eye on her.’

-----

The rest of the morning was quite uneventful for Ororo. She had just one more class before lunch – grade eleven, one of her more challenging classes. Not that the students were bad, just that they had just got their independence and at sixteen they thought themselves to be omniscient, omnipotent beings.

‘Ah to be young again,’ she mused as she made her way to the class. Reaching the class, she stopped and stood outside for a minute observing the two liveliest students of that particular group– the class clown and the class firecracker. Both of them had their own little crowd of admirers gathered around them, as they prattled away, weaving their own animated tale, probably of some adventure they had or a dress they saw at the mall.

“Good morning class,” she said, ending their daytime soirée, and charging them into action, all of them jumping over one another to get to their places.

-----

Meanwhile,

“REMY LEBEAU,” a loud screech rang across the large garage. “Ahm gonna kill ya.”

Grabbing the nearest *weapon*- a large spanner, the owner of the voice stormed across the workshop, ignoring the grins and chuckles from the other people in the place. They knew what was going to happen, just as they knew better than to try to interrupt the raging southern tornado.

Inside the garage office, the man of the moment, Remy, cringed at the sound. ‘Oh uh, now Remy be gone,’ he thought, looking over his shoulder.

“What’d ya do now?” The deep voice from across the table asked.

“Noting Mon Ami,” Remy muttered. Rising from his chair, he turned to face the door.

“Ya stepped out…” The owner of the gruff voice, as well as the workshop they were working in, Logan, stated it with conviction. Coming next to Remy, he placed a supportive yet threatening hand on his shoulder.

“Uh….” was all the ex-thief-turned-car salesman could manage, before the door was thrown open.
“REMY!”
“Marie…..Cherie,” Remy tried to calm his girlfriend, catching her hands to stop her from clawing his eyes out, her impromptu weapon falling away.
“Dohn’t Marie Cherie meh,” Marie both pushed and pulled at him at the same time, her rage thickening her southern drawl.

“Logan,” Remy looked at his boss-cum-partner. He would have added friend in there too, had it not been Marie in front of them. When it came to Marie, all bets were off as far as Logan was concerned.

---

“Don’t look at me,” Logan lifted his hands. “Ya did it, now pay fer it.”

Whatever explanation the Cajun Casanova was about to give went away in the swift kick that Marie delivered onto his knee. Buckling over he grabbed the table for support, freeing Marie from his grip.

“What did he do now?” Logan asked Marie, gently drawing her around the desk…away from Remy. Having seen it happen earlier, he knew what would happen once Marie cooled down. In fact, he could see it starting right now.

“Betsy,” Marie gritted tightly, anger tears welling up in her large brown doe like eyes.

“Betsy….Logan,” she repeated, her rage rapidly slipping away, with pain taking its place. “Ya kno’ thaht new disco, thaht dance place…..tha one where we were planning ta go. Where this jackass was gonna take meh,” the tears started their downward journey, her voice cracking. “He went there….with her,” Marie managed before collapsing against Logan, bawling against his white flannel shirt as he enveloped her in a protective embrace.

“Gumbo,” Logan practically growled at Remy, who stood uneasily, rubbing his sore knee. Marie had got him right on the kneecap. ‘Its gonna hurt for a couple of days’ he thought, berating himself for bringing it on himself. “Out.”

“Marie…” Remy tried, stepping closer to her. She however, borrowed deeper into Logan’s chest, trying to cut his sound off, her breathing coming in loud gasps.

“Grr…” this time he did growl. “Out, NOW.” he ordered.

His shoulders slumped, Remy hobbled out of the room. He had screwed up…again. Marie loved him as deeply as he loved her and he had to go and do this…with Betsy of all the people. Betsy was sad herself, all with her lover Neal Shaara leaving for India for six months….especially after the fight they had had in which she told him to go hell. She did not even go to see him off at the airport. It was only three days later that a letter posted from Neal posted before his leaving reached her that she broke down and cried. In the letter he wrote that he loved and cared for deeply. However, if being with him and the responsibilities he had to shoulder; wasn’t what she wanted from life, then it was better that she find someone else. He would return after six months and ‘hopefully’ by that time she would have reached a decision. Betsy did not even need a minute to reach a decision…however having no way to contact Neal, she consoled herself with having to wait out those six months somehow.

The previous night wasn’t a date for her and Remy. It was basically two friends getting together….and even though there was light flirtation between them, Remy knew that it would lead to nothing. Heck, more than half the time, especially after the drinks started hitting her, Neal was all she could talk about. How he was so good for her, how much he loved her, how much she loved him and so on and so forth.

If only he had told Marie before hand about it, or maybe even taken her along. Betsy wouldn’t have minded, not even a bit…..and it would have avoided all this trouble.

He was in the doghouse now. It would be some time before she even looked at him, let alone let him come near her.

----

Recess, Xavier’s School

“Hey you,” Amiko did not look up at the sound. She did not like the tone and ignored it hoping that whoever it was would leave her alone.

“Hey you…Chinky,” came another voice. “He called you. You deaf or something?”
“She doesn’t know English,” a girl mocked her, the group surrounding her as she backed into the wall, trying to disappear.
“Oh yes, the Chink doesn’t know English. She talks like…” the first boy let loose a sorry sputtering of gibberish.

“I am Japanese,” Amiko whispered softly.
“What?” asked another boy.
“She said she’s Japanese,” the first one chuckled. “Like that makes a difference. Chinese, Japanese, whatever-ese, you all look and talk the same.”

Amiko felt anger welling up within her. However, she calmed herself down muttering the prayer her mother had taught her. She had also taught her that she would face difficulties in her life, and people such as these, who made fun of you, looked down upon you, just because you look different, should not paid attention to. She was better than they were, and she should behave as such.

Her father whole-heartedly seconded those words of wisdom and even repeated them to her on more than one occasion. Coming from him, such advice sometimes felt off, especially when he himself would get ready to kill anyone who even looked at her the wrong way, let alone say something offensive. For that, he told her that she was better than he was too and was destined for great things.

----

“Yes,” countered the second boy. “I bet all of her family is like this….*me speak no English people*, yellow skinned, slant eyed, dog eaters.”

“Please, leave me alone,” Amiko managed slowly, her tone a little defiant. They were pushing the limit by bringing her family into it. “I do not want you to get into trouble.”

“Trouble” the ringleader stepped forward. “What…you gonna be trouble for us.”

“Yeah sure….she’s gonna use one of her *martial* kicks and kick our asses,” the group laughed at his remark.

However, their laughter was cut short by a sound from behind them.

*POP*

“She isn’t, I am.”

---

Note: Ok, not much different from the previous version….yet. However, the small changes will turn into bigger ones from the next chapter onwards….including an unlikely ‘flirtation’.

The Neal – Betsy connection is from the X-Men series. (Issue #109)

Please Review!!

The children bullying Amiko whizzed around at the characteristic bubble-gum pop and high-pitched voice.

“Jub…..Jubilee,” all of them paled in their faces. “This is bad…bad….bad…” one of them started muttering under his breath.
“So which one of you losers is the ring leader?” Jubilation *Jubilee* Lee, threatened, her usually friendly features a stark contrast to the deep scowl gracing it now. A mere wisp of a girl, she had a well-earned reputation of being a tough cookie. Joining Xavier’s four years back, she had since then proven herself to be an intelligent, studious student, although a bit lacking in the right kind of impetus department. She was just as likely to get into some sort of trouble, as she was to complete next week’s assignment. “Which one is the ring leader?” she repeated in a lower tone, her eyes narrowing.

“He-he is…..” couple of boys pushed a third one to the front. He was trying and get to the back. He knew about Jubilee and was familiar with what happened when you crossed her….and by the swift reactions of his so called friends, so were they.

“You’re *skunk* McGee’s brother, aren’t you?” A dark menacing smirk formed on the older girl’s face, one that made the bullies lie down in a fetal position and call for their mamas.

The boy nodded his head, remembering what had happened to his elder brother. “Y…Yes”

“So do you want to get the same treatment I gave him? Complete with the shaved strip in the middle of your head and white paint on it – both of you brothers will look the same, stinkin’ skunks. Just like family.”
“N-No….” the youngster was ready to pee his pants, all his earlier bravado escaping to parts unknown. His brother used to a bully, a major one too…that is until he crossed a newly admitted Jubilee. What happened after that, what she did to him, made him the laughing stock of the school. Jubilee caught hold in a chokehold, and using her father’s razor, shaved three slim, strips of hair off his head and painted them over with while paint. His brother had to get all of his hair shaved and had never teased Jubilee or any other girl.

----

“Please….don’t do that to me” he pleaded.

“Hmph.” It wasn’t as if Jubilee wanted to hurt the bugger, just put the fear of God or better yet, the fear of Jubilee in them. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t do it,” she mused, gesturing Amiko to come towards her.

“Give me one reason, why I shouldn’t do it to all of you….” she stared at all the conspirators. “….after what you did to my SISTER.”
“Sister!” The lone girl in the group squeaked, her eyes flitting to Amiko. “She-She’s….your sister. We didn’t know.” She was practically begging for mercy. So much for her REP among the girls.
“Well NOW you do,” Jubilee stressed, pointing a menacing finger at each one of them. “All of you.”

“Now SCRAM.”

“Ye…Yes” they started to shuffle away, but stopped at Jubilee’s call.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
They looked up at her, ‘forgetting’…..what were….

“Oh yes,” one of them still had some thought process going. “Sorry Amiko,” he whispered lowering his head, the rest of them mirroring his apology.
“And…”
“And….this won’t happen again,” they continued.

“It better not.” Jubilee warned as she placed a hand over Amiko’s shoulder, and started to walk her away, but not before imparting one last piece of friendly advice. “And tell your other friends too. Amiko Yashida is Jubilee’s sister. She’s off limits, and anyone who tries to say or do anything to her will have to deal with ME.”

----

Back at Logan’s workshop,

Remy eyes shot up as the door to Logan’s office opened revealing a frustrated, pissed off and altogether exhausted looking Logan, his white flannel shirt all smudged with tears and mascara.

His leg slightly better now, Remy rushed to the older man’s side, an apologetic look on his face. He owed a lot to him. Remy had been a ‘small-time’ thief, mainly dealing with small pieces of jewelry and contraband alcohol. A couple of years ago, he botched up on a deal and his ‘customers’ came looking for him to extract their money one way or the others….most probably in the form of body parts, namely HIS. It was Logan had intervened, and that too only on ‘Marie’s request’. Paying off all his debts, Logan gave him a long, well, a two-minute talk and an option. He offered him a job in his new business – selling imported second hand cars. However, he did have one condition, no more stealing, peddling or any other nefarious activities of his. Literally grabbing for straws and just happy to be in one piece, Remy accepted it immediately and had never looked back since.

Then, six months ago, Logan gave him a second offer. He was going to get a dealership for selling new cars along with old ones. Logan gave him an offer for five percent ownership in that new venture; with an option to increase it to twenty-five percent in the future – as and when he got the funds. Remy readily took that deal too.
Things were going great. Set up at the front of the operations, doing what he did best, using his outgoing, friendly nature and his sweet-talking, glib tongue to dupe people, this time to buy cars, Remy was happy with the work he was doing. Although hard and headache causing sometimes, the fact that none of the people coming in into their showroom was likely to chop or blow his head off, certainly made things lean in favor of his current job. An excellent salesman, he had a ninety percent sales record. As for Logan’s involvement, he took care of the rest including the workshop.

---

Just like Remy, Logan had taken in two other seemingly lost causes. Both of them were young men barely out of their teens. One was Kurt Wagner, Marie’s long lost and recently united twin brother and the other a Russian immigrant by the name of Piotr Rasputin, or Peter or Pete as the others called him. Respecting their mentor, both of them looked up to Logan as a sort of elder brother and for learning about America, its culture, people and way of life. Remy used to joke about this. Logan, a red-blooded Canadian, teaching Kurt, a German and Piotr, a Russian about America…..then again, Remy himself was anything but American. Born of Cajun parents, but in France, he spent his childhood all over Europe. His father, a thief himself, would pick up and move every few months, staying a maximum of a year at any given place. Consequently, Remy as well as his older brother, Henri and their mother would have to move too. That gave the rolling stone Remy yet another cause for staying on with Logan and the others. Here, with them, he was finally having the stability that had always been lacking in his life….he was putting down roots, making a name for himself….and possibly one day, if he did not screw it up first, a family too…with his Anna Marie.

In fact, no one within their circle of family and friends were ‘Americans,’ all except Marie. She was as American as they came, right from her Southern drawl, to her her pies and cookies, to the diner she owned across the road from the workshop-cum-dealership. The rest of them had come to America to make a life for themselves and loved almost everything about this country, just as they did about their birth countries. Almost because, if there was anything that Logan could not stand American, was the *piss tasting* beer, as he called it, they sold in the bars here. Moreover, whenever there was a hockey match, the TV room was like a war zone, with General Logan, a Molson firmly grasped in one hand, barking out orders to the Canadian Hockey Soldiers. The man could not skate to save his life, let alone on ice, forget about playing on it, but he knew each minute detail and statistic about *THE* game. For him sports started and ended at Ice Hockey.

---

“Ya can go in now,” Logan grunted, walking past him. He hated acting as an intermediary between Remy and Marie. The only reason he did it was that Marie was family. For all her confidence and bravado, when it came to matters of the heart, she was as innocent as newborn lamb. She had led a hard life – facing many tragedies since childhood. She lost her parents in an accident, lost her twin brother at the same time too. Luckily, a German couple saved and later adopted him. However, when they moved back to their native country, they took young Kurt along with them…and it would be years before the two siblings met again. As for Marie herself, she was found by Irene Adler and her companion Raven Darkholme. A kind-hearted by blind diner owner, Irene, one morning literally ran into a six-year-old child sleeping on the diner stairs, starving and with a high fever. She had taken in Marie and she and Raven raised the young girl as their own. Three and a half years ago, both Irene also died of cancer, leaving young Marie once again without a parent. Grief stricken at her lover and best friend’s death, Raven also had left for parts unknown, but not before asking Logan to take care of their young charge. Logan not only took care of her as family, he also taught her the intricacies of running a business. A year and a half later when Raven finally did return, she was incredibly proud of her daughter, but to Marie’s dismay, she refused to stay in New York, let alone at the diner. Everything about the place reminded her of Irene, of what they built and shared together. A lot had changed since then and even though still not able to stay on at a permanent basis in New York, Raven did visit every few months, in between her breaks from her tarot card reading and fortune telling business. The last time she came, it was after her six-month stint in Las Vegas. Currently, she was somewhere in California.

Two years later, Marie finally got a lucky break when her long lost brother came looking for her. Kurt had followed the trail of his biological parents and managed to track down his sister. He had since then moved in with Marie, completed an automotive mechanic certification course and joined Logan in his workshop.

“This is your last chance Gumbo,” Logan scowled at the Cajun Casanova. “I told ya. You hurt her and I’ll gut ya myself.”

Remy nodded his head. “Dat won’t happen mon ami.” Heading towards Logan’s office, he slowly pushed the door open. He had a lot of explaining to do.

----

*Beep Beep Beep…*

Ororo lifted the phone receiver. It was the school intercom. “Yes?”
“There is a call for you Miss. Monroe,” the receptionist answered. Ororo looked up at the clock, a smile appearing on her face. ‘Has to be her.’
“Yes Jean,” she answered even before the person at the other end could speak.
“Don’t yes Jean me,” her best friend’s voice came loud and clear. “I know you wait for this call as much as I wait for making it.”
Ororo laughed at her remark. Jean or rather Dr. Jean Grey was one of her closest friends and probably the nearest she came to having a sister. They made it a point to talk to each other at least once a day.

“Yes Jean,” the younger Ororo repeated with a chuckle.

“So how’s your day coming along?” Jean asked, her mouth filled as she took a bite from her ‘feels like meat’ Tofu burger.
“Oh the usual, nothing much except for a new student,” Ororo started telling her about Amiko and that she had agreed to tutor the young Japanese girl in English.
“But we are still on for Saturday, aren’t we” Jean inquired about their weekly get together.

Ororo scrunched her nose as if she had bitten something very bitter. ‘No,’ she sighed internally. ‘Not that.’ Although she enjoyed the time she spent with her friends, she hated their choice of venue. ‘The Salem Center Country Club’ – a bunch of nouveau riche high society wannabes, sucking up to the old money people. Her father Professor Xavier was a respected member of the club, and was on its administrative committee, but even he knew about his daughter’s detest for the ‘showiness’. If it were up to her, they would have a private picnic, somewhere out in the countryside, away from all the pomp and show of the club. If there ever was one, she was a true nature’s child, right down to her preference for wearing and using natural fibers, silk and cotton being her favorite.

“Yes Jean,” her reluctance was clear in her voice. “We are still on for Saturday.”

Jean reminding her of their country club meeting gave her an idea and brought a smile to her face. ‘This is the last time. From next week, I have got an iron tight alibi.’ She was going to ask Amiko to move their weekend tuition time from Saturday morning to afternoon, giving her a perfect excuse to get out from going to the club….or even if she had to go there, she could break away sooner.

“So both of you are going to be there?” Jean confirmed. “Scott and I have somewhere else to go Saturday morning and will meet you there directly.”
“Of course,” Ororo put on her best sarcastic tone. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Ha, Ha, Ha….very funny Ororo.”

Suddenly there was a knock on her office door. ‘A student,’ the silhouette from behind the frosted glass told her.
“Jean, I have got to go. There is someone at the door. “Talk to you tomorrow…Bye,” with that she returned the hand piece to its cradle.

“Yes…enter,” she called out, writing down to call and confirm her date for the weekend bore-fest.

----

“Marie.” Remy called out softly as he entered the office. Marie was sitting in Logan’s chair, staring out at the workshop, a box of Kleenex on her lap.
Silently making his way to her side, Remy got on his haunches. “Cherie…” he whispered, taking one of her gloved hands within his own. Both Marie and Remy had a strange habit of wearing gloves, even in the warm September weather.

“Cherie…Remy nevah wanted to hurt ya,” he continued. Gently pulling her glove off, he kissed the inside of her hand, softly. “Please Marie….say something.”
“Why.” Marie’s voice was hoarse from insistent crying.
“Why?”
“Why’dya go with her,” Marie clarified, trying to pull her hand away from his – unsuccessfully.
“She….” Remy tried to get the right words before speaking out. “She came yesterday. She was sad and wanted a friend to talk to….someone to listen to her. You know how she misses dat man of hers.”
“Is that all you all did? Talk?” Marie’s voice tightened towards the end. “Or did ya help her some othah way….”

“NO,” Remy pressed two fingers at her lips, silencing the words just about to come out. “Remy didn’ do dat. Just drink an’ talk….not that Remy said he wait for his Marie….as long as it takes. No one else”
“Remy that woulda take a lohng tahme,” Marie reasoned. “Yer a man…Ah feel afraid, thaht ya’ will….”
“No one for this’ Cajun except his Marie,” Remy reassured her. “He….”

*Tring Tring* *Tring Tring*

The office phone ringing cut him off. It was on Logan’s personal line. “’ello,” he answered.

A few seconds later,

“LOGAN…there’s a call from the school.”

----

Much later,

“WHY?” Logan asked loudly, his face red with anger.

He was barely containing himself from losing control and his yelling at his daughter wasn’t helping any. He never wanted to scold his girls, let alone raise his voice at them. However, this was something he could not….would not let slide….not again.

“Answer me Jubes,” he demanded, rubbing his hand over his face and into his hair in frustration. “A second time….SECOND TIME…..What have you got against those boys and their family?”
“But Wolvie….” Jubilee tried.
“Don’t,” Logan’s harsh tone silenced her. “Don’t Wolvie me kid, not now. I heard everything from yer teachers…especially that *pretty boy*. How could ya do this again? I don’t send you kids to the best private school in the city just so that you can go there and act like a bully. The first time they let it go and so did I…but not this time.”

--

//Flashback//

“Mr. Howlett,” Logan looked up as the secretary called his name. He had been waiting outside the vice principal’s office.

Forty-five minutes ago, he was in the workshop when a call from the school came in. His first instinct was that something happened to the girls. However, he was informed that that was not the case and that vice principal would like to meet him relating to something involving his elder daughter….something about her threatening another kid.

‘Jubes. What did you do now?’ His mind hits the bulls-eye with the first try….had to be her. She was in trouble…again.

The woman on the other end did not give any other information, except that he should be at the school within the next hour.

---

“Yeah…” Mare D’Ancanto looked at the man who had answered her. ‘MAN’, the young woman thought….’more like raw sex poured into the tightest possible jeans. How does he breathe in those?’

“Mr. Summers is waiting for you,” she informed him, pointing towards the door, with the polished “Scott Summers, Vice Principal,” nameplate. Her eyes followed him as he grunted a thanks and walked…prowled more like it, towards the door, his biceps clear within the close fitting arms of the flannel shirt.

Reaching that door, Logan did not bother to knock, just turned the knob and entered the room.

---

Scott Summers’s eyes widened at the sight of the man who had just entered the room. From the girl’s records, he knew that their father was a Caucasian, but the man standing in front of him didn’t look old enough to be a father of a sixteen year old teenager.
“Yes? Can I help you?”Hhe asked steadily, hoping to makeup for the other man’s physical advantage and unnerve him.
“I am here regarding my daughter, Jubi….” Logan corrected himself to use her complete name. “….Jubilation Lee.” Not even ten seconds in the room and already he didn’t like the sophisticated ‘dick-head’. The asshole hadn’t even offered him a chair to sit on.
“Daughter?” Scott did not need to feign his surprise. This man was her father. “Are you….Mr….” he checked the file in front of him. “Mr. Howlett.”

“Yeah,” Logan grunted his reply, as he pulled the chair and sat down himself. Who did this four-eyed fucker think himself to be? More importantly, who did he think Logan to be? One of the wimpy, zit faced pups that he taught in his class.

Truth be told, he had expected and was used to this type of reaction from people. He used his real name very less. As far as he was concerned, he had left that name and person a long way back. It had too much baggage attached to it…like orphan, ex-thug, ex-trafficker and a whole lot of other ex-es that he wanted to forget. He had even thought of officially changing it to Logan, but the flamin’ paperwork….hah, what’s the use anyway. Its just a freakin’ name.

---

“Do you have any identification?” The words barely left Scott’s mouth when the man snarled…practically growled at him. That further strengthened his doubts. He couldn’t imagine this man being anyone’s father, let alone two girls, both of whom didn’t have his last name…two ‘Asian’ girls for that matter.

“Identification?” Already beyond annoyed, Logan was quickly heading towards pissed off territory. ‘Why the….little prick. Who does he think he is?’

Reaching for his wallet, he whipped out his license and tossed it onto the desk. “This good enough for ya?”

Taking his eyes off from Logan, Scott grasped the license. Indeed, it stated his name as James Howlett.

“I am sorry Mr. Howlett” he apologized. Pressing the intercom button, he asked his assistant to ask Ms. Munroe to bring the students in, and ask Mrs. McCoy to accompany them.

---

Five minutes later there was knock on the door and a medium statured, dark haired woman entered the room. Just behind her were Amiko and Jubilee and another woman whose immediately caught Logan’s eyes. Had the time and conditions been different, she would surely have got Logan’s onetime patent feral-leer. However, not now…now it just wanted to know why the hell were both of his daughters in the room. As far as he knew, it was to be only about Jubilee. Amiko had just started at this school and there was no way in any damn place that he was going to believe that Amiko did anything to hurt or harm others.

While both women occupied chairs placed at the right hand side of Scott’s desk, Amiko and Jubilee stood the left. It was too fuckin’ court like for Logan’s liking…..and he had some…scratch that, he had quite a lot of experience with courts. Although still sporting a defiant look on her face, Jubilee did not meet her father’s eyes. As for Amiko, she was just confused as to why she had been asked to step out of class and accompany Ms. Monroe to the vice-principal's office. Seeing her father there, brought in nervousness into that confusion.

---

As soon as every one was in place, Scott dealt with the introduction and quickly launched into what Logan correctly guessed a much repeated sales rep.

“Mr. Howlett, we at Xavier’s believe in a complete development of the child’s mind …” For the next ten minutes he continued with his monologue. If it had not been for his daughters, Logan would have walked out after the first thirty seconds. The fact that he was uninterested, was lost to Scott, who wasn’t paying much attention to the man he was speaking to, but was treating him as a student and the situation as a class lecture. He seemed to have been sold on the biker/rough/thug/wrong side of the law idea about Logan and was treating him as such.

However, neither Ororo nor Cecelia, both boggled out of their minds as to the identity of Amiko and Jubilee’s father and the fact that these two were sisters, noticed how Mr. Howlett’s hand was fisting around the padded arm rests.

----

Once Scott finished and Cecelia started with her speech, Logan almost wanted the three of them to just give them their best twenty hits and be done with it. ‘Been here fuck more than half an hour and still not a single thing of use.’

“Mr. Howlett,” Cecelia smiled at him. “I’d like to thank you for taking the time from your busy schedule and coming in at such a short notice,” she said in an effort to put him at ease. However, from the way Logan just nodded at her, it did not have quite an effect.

Seeing that she had his attention, she proceeded to tell him about the recess-hour incident.

“She shoulda decked the little…” Logan grunted, just reigning in the last word of that comment.

“Mr. Howlett!” Shit. Four eyes again. An’ what’s the deal with the funky glasses. “We do no encourage, condone or accept violence at Xav…”
“But you sure as hell do it with making fun of a person on how they look,” Logan cut him of midway.
“Its not that ei…” Scott sputtered. He wasn’t used to be interrupted, especially not by people such as Logan.

“Where are you from?” Logan completely neglected him and turned his attention to Cecelia.
“Me!” Cecelia was slightly taken aback, but recovered quickly as she caught onto what was happening in front of her. Logan was wresting the control of this meeting…literally yanking it out from under Scott. Just like Scott, he too seemed accustomed to have his orders followed. “I am from New York.”

“I meant which country did yer parents, grand parents, whatever come from,” Logan did not seem satisfied with her answer. “Which South American country?”
“Peru.”

“Mr. Howlett,” Scott tried to interrupt, not at all liking the grin that had formed on Jubilee’s face.

“So, you must really get a kick outta people calling ya Mexican.” The grin changed to a barely contained giggle, one that not even Scott’s ‘keep quiet’ glare seemed to push down.
“Or even better,” Logan went one-step further. “How about wetback? Sure must want hug an’ kiss ‘em then.”

“Mr. Howlett!” Scott nearly shouted. “There is no need to use that tone. Racial slander and slurs are also not accepted here.”
“Shove it one-eye,” Logan pulled Jubilee to him and nodded for Amiko to come next to him too. “What do you think, I didn’ see the way you look at them and me? Or how these two…ladies,” he emphasized. “How they see me and see them and think that how could a mugger wannabe like me be having two Asian girls, one Chinese and one Japanese with him. Heck, you can look all you want, I don’t give a damn. I’ve heard enough and seen enough in my life and I’ll be damned if my kids have to go through the same. Think of me all you want, but anyone even lifting an eye against my kids…..”

----

“Scott,” Ororo deliberately used Scott’s first name. She wanted to him step down a notch….before things really went out of control. Although not impressed by Mr. Howlett’s rather blunt language, she did understand and empathize with certain points. She too had experienced such comments and or actions from others….both from Caucasians as well as people from her own race. Her white hair and blue eyes, clearly spoke out her differences. Some of the comments had been so horrific that they had made her cry on more than one occasion. Anything anyone would say about her, she would be able to bear, but once another girl, an African-American girl, had called her late mother a slut….a whitie lover….bitch. Well, suffice to say; that even though the then fourteen-year Ororo had cried the whole night, the girl who had made the comment had lost two of her teeth as well as a handful of her hair.
It was Xavier who had given her the understanding to face such situations….and to rise above them. He taught her what he and her parents believed, that underneath all the external physical variances, everyone was just the same. Most people had misconceptions about other cultures and people, and that lead to distrust, which led to prejudice. He believed that instead of confrontations, they should try to impart knowledge to them…because knowledge and education were two of the greatest equalizers…even more so than money and power.

“Mr. Howlett,” she kept her tone steady and as non-threatening as possible. It was clear that he would not take anything said against his daughters. “I…we understand your….we understand you taking offense, but please try to see our point of view too. However, just as we don’t condone violence, we also do not condone racism or prejudicing of any kind, either based on basis of race, sex or religious beliefs. That is why we have a standard uniform for all the children. It is to give them all a level standing.”

“Hn.” Her words seemed to have some calming effect. “I still say, she shoulda given him at least one.”

‘You would,’ the words were on the tip of Scott’s tongue, but giving into Ororo’s better ‘personal’ skills, he decided to sit it out.

Ororo also let the comment slide. No use just going around in circles. Instead, in the same steady tone she had used earlier, she informed Logan that although no action was being taken against Amiko, Jubilee was being suspended for one week.

-----

Even though he heard her out, Logan’s grip had tightened so much that his knuckles had turned white.

“Finished?” he inquired tightly. At Ororo’s nod, he roughly pushed his chair back and stood up. Ignoring the vice principal, he kept his attention on Ororo and Cecelia….for now. He asked if he could take Amiko too. Ororo had no problem with that. Given what the girl had been through, she thought it was a good idea. She told her choice to Scott who also agreed with her.

Logan then asked Jubilee and Amiko to wait for him outside. As soon as they stepped out and the door closed behind them, he turned to Scott and gave one parting remark.

“I ain’t gonna say sorry fer what Jubilee did, ‘cause I am not. If ya believe in all the *overall development shit* ya blabbered about, then maybe ya should teach the kids how ta behave with people who don’t look like them. Maybe then yer words and punishment might have some meaning…An’ I want those ‘innocent kids’,” he spat out the words. “…to be taken care off. You suspended my girl, you better do something about them…”

Letting his words hang in the air, he turned around and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

//End Flashback//

----

“I just couldn’t let those idiots tease and bully her,” Jubilee shot back at her father.

“No…but what ya coulda done was go an’ get a teacher…not scare the shit outta them.” Logan tried to justify to her. His own reaction would have been much worse, but he did not want that for his daughters. He was proud of his girls and no punk ass kid was gonna make them feel bad about who they were.

Jubilee just huffed at him. They had been going at each other for the past hour and still could not reach a common ground.

Taking a deep breath Logan announced, “Jubes….yer grounded.”
“What!” The girl just flared up.

“Yer grounded,” he repeated again. “…fer a week.”
“Wha…this sucks.”

“No leaving the house, no phone, no games…nothing.”
“This….” Jubilee opened and closed her mouth trying to get the appropriate words for her case. Unable to do so, she fell back on the tried and tested. “Sucks.”

With that, she stomped away to her room. A few minutes later, the sound of Logan’s Harley pulling out from the garage reverberated into the night. The girls were his life and it pained him doing what he did. Heck, he wasn’t set up for these sort of things….SHE was the one who did this…until…

----

Few hours later,

Sitting in the darkest corner of the bar, his wallet in his hand, a half-empty beer on the table in front of him….Logan was staring at the wallet.

Raising his free hand, he gently slid out the photograph from the plastic casing. The photo was faded with age and use.

Caressing the face of the woman whose face was on the photo, he whispered just one word…

“Mariko”

04. Remembrance

Summary: Logan remembers his past....Loves and Losses

---

“Mariko”

Thirteen years ago (Calgary, Alberta, Canada)

“Ladies and Gentlemen….” The potbellied MC yelled into the mike. “Tonight’s winner and still undisputed champion…THE WOLVERINE.”

The boisterous crowd went wild as the champion stepped forward, his hands raised, one foot planted on the back of the unconscious challenger.

“Is there anyone here who dares challenge the unbeatable Wolverine?” At this announcement, the crowd grew silent. No one stepped forward to answer the challenge. They had seen three fighters…more like three fools getting their asses handed to them that night itself and no one else wanted to try their luck out.

When no one came forward, the cage door opened and Wolverine stepped out and a throng of women hoping for a pay night romp with the Wolverine surrounded him. Not interested in any of them, well, not that night, Wolverine just pushed them away and made his way to the showers, an unlit cigar in mouth.

-----

“Here are ya?” Paul, the owner and MC at the fighting bar, tossed two bundles to the Wolverine. “Twenty five….ten and fifteen,” he dropped his voice. “Enough?” He asked good-naturedly. He always did that. The Wolverine was his largest money making machine and did not mind giving him a few extra dollars.

“Nah,” the young man grunted as he tossed the larger bundle back to Paul for safekeeping.

“Gimme a double.” The words barely left his mouth, before a double shot of whisky was placed before him. Paul knew that the Wolverine was legal now…he hadn’t been the first time he had come to the bar three years ago. He didn’t bother with the legalities…it wasn’t as if the cage fighting was legal by itself.

The champ gulped down three double shots one after the other before he slowed down to enjoy the fourth one. He was still feeling the adrenaline rush from the fight and needed a good drinking spell to get it down….especially now that he had given up on tonight’s ‘fuck’ dosage.

He was on his fifth drink when the bar doors opened. Taking a glance, he immediately knew who it was.

“Heyya runt,” the deep, gruff voice was followed by a large hand coming to rest on his shoulder.
“Whatdya want Creed?” Wolverine grunted back.
“Got a job fer ya?” whispered Victor ‘Sabertooth’ Creed. A one-time fighter himself, he had moved on to more ‘lucrative’ job options.

Taking the seat next to Wolverine, he ordered two doubles for himself.

“Not interested,” Wolverine said dismissingly.
“Money’s good…”
“NOT interested,” the second time around it was louder. Standing to leave, Wolverine found his *to go* beer already waiting for him.

Nodding his head at Paul, he walked out into the dark cold night.

----

He had barely gone two blocks, when a loud scream rang out into the night.

“Another one,” Wolverine grunted taking a last swig from his beer bottle to empty it. It was one of the seediest areas of the city and robberies, rapes and murders were commonplace. Cracking his neck, he continued walking towards his one room apartment.

Suddenly something or someone ran into him, pushing him onto the road.
“Watch it bub,” the growl was mildly threatening. It looked like a small boy or something. Trying to push him pack, Wolverine frowned when the youngster seemingly stuck to him, groping him tightly.
“Pl…pleeease help” the voice was of a young girl and from the accent he realized that she wasn’t from the area, most probably not even from the country.

Before he could say anything else, two men came charging through the alley and instinct made him move the clinging girl behind him, so that he was standing between her and the pursuers.

“We got nothin’ with ya. Just give us the girl and we’ll let ya go,” one of the men threatened.

Nodding the Wolverine just stepped aside and pushed the tearful girl away from him.

“Please” she pleaded again, her large black eyes overflowing with tears, which then ran over her stained cheeks.

“Smart guy” the second attacker smirked stepping towards the girl. Reaching near the girl, he reached into his jacket and withdrew a short rope and a gag.
“Pleeasse….” The girl pleaded again, getting a chuckle from the man in front of her.
“No one’s going ta help youuuuuu…” The next moment he found himself flying through the air into the garbage bags resting in front of the area diner.

“Now you are gonna get it,” his partner snarled, whipping out a knife.
“Get back” Wolverine ordered the girl, his eyes never leaving the goon and the knife he held in his hand. “Ya call that a knife” Wolverine gave an evil grin. With that, he reached behind his back and pulled out his own knife. “How about this?”
“Holy shit,” the color drained from the man’s face as his eyes fell on Wolverine’s knife – a two-inch thick, nine-inch long, serrated edged blade glinting under the streetlight.
He immediately stepped back in fear.
“Heyyy…man,” his voice cracked, all his confidence gone. “We just wanted ta have some fun. No need ta get angry. If ya want her she’s yers” with that he turned and ran into the alley he had come from, leaving his unconscious friend sprawled among the torn garbage bags and rotten food.

After a couple of minutes, Wolverine slid his knife back into its sheath and started walking away. What he did not notice ‘immediately’ was that the girl had started following him.
“Whatdya want?” he grunted at the girl, surprised that she didn’t flee as soon as the men left.
“Help….please,” she pleaded softly. Wolverine was about to turn her away, when something pulled at his heart. He wanted to keep her safe…..he wanted to see her smile.
Nodding his head, he gestured her to follow him. “I’ve gotta a place nearby. Ya can stay there. But I’ve gotta warn ya…I stay alone.”
In response, the girl just stepped closer to him.

----

Ten minutes later both of them stepped into Wolverine’s *apartment* - a room in an old condemned office complex.
“Ya hungry?” Wolverine asked the girl. She just nodded her head, her small duffle bag still clutched between her arms.
“’k. There’s the bathroom” he pointed to a door, hanging off its hinges. Ya get cleaned up while I get us something ta eat.” Leaving her alone, Wolverine traced his steps back to the diner. It had been his destination before the girl ran into him.

Reaching the diner, he ordered his usual standard extra rare steak and for the girl….for the girl… ‘Idiot’ he knocked his head. ‘Didn’t ask her what she wanted ta eat.’
“Listen bub” he called the waiter. “Do ya have something that is not beef in yer menu.”
“Yes sir” the lanky teenager grinned at him. “We have vegetable burger, vegetable salad, veg…”
“Give me one veg burger and one veg salad” Wolverine interrupted him. “And a soda.”


“Get yer dinner,” the gruff voice called out from the door. Immediately the scent of perfumed soap and incense sticks reached him, causing him to breathe it in deeper, enjoying its calming smell.
“I didn’t know if ya’d eat meat, so I got ya…..” his words were caught at the sight before him. He had seen that the girl was good looking but….seeing her like this – all cleaned up, damp hair clinging to her cheeks, her demure curves clear under the robe.

“Thank you,” Wolverine snapped out at the sound near him. She had walked up to him and had gently taken the box from his hand.
“Huh….yer…yer welcome,” he finally managed, feeling awkward at someone acting so civil….and more so with himself responding to it.

Sitting down on either ends of the worn out ‘Goodwill’ couch, they started their dinner.

“What’s yer name?” he asked finally.
“Mariko….Mariko Yashida,” she answered, her smooth honey like voice carrying the barest of accents.
“Logan” he responded in return. “My name is Logan,” he avoided telling her his formal name. That name was only used in official work and documents….like his license, social insurance number….his police record.

“Thank you” she bowed her head slightly.
“Fer what?” he asked in his gruff voice.
“For the food…for this…” she gestured to the warm room, “….for saving me.”
“Nah…” Logan flipped his hand. “….if it weren’t me, someone else woulda saved ya,” He lied to her, not having the heart to tell her the reality of the area she was in.
At his effort, she gave a small smile. “Yes….anyone could have….but you were the one who did.”
“Hmmm…” he mused, scratching his two day old stubble. “….maybe yer right. But ya don’t have ta tell thank me fer everything.”

----

“Mariko….Why are ya running?” His question caused her to flinch as if he had slapped her, tears appearing in her eyes.
“Ya don’t have ta say if ya don’t wanta” he tried to handle the situation. “Its just that…ya don’t look like yer from around here…ya look really…ya know….really…” he tried to get the correct word. “….really….good” he finished lamely. “I…I’m sorry if I hurt ya.”

An awkward silence came over the room.

“Vancouver….” She answered softly. “That’s where I am from.”
“Vancouver huh…that’s far” Logan mused. He had never been to Vancouver, his fight circuit moving mostly in Alberta. “Why did ya run?”
For a moment, it looked as if she would start crying again, “I brought dishonor to my family.”
“Dishonor…” Logan was taken aback at her answer. He had expected an abusive boyfriend or teenage anger…but not this. “….whatdya mean?” He found himself *concerned* about the girl, something that he had never felt towards any woman. In fact, the last woman he had felt any emotion for was….the old nun who used to come to the orphanage every month and bring sweets for the children. That was years ago….she had died when he was twelve years old.

“I brought dishonor to my father….to my family,” she repeated herself and then proceeded to tell him the reason for her running away.

----

“Thank you for allowing me to spend the night…I’ll leave in the morning”
Logan’s eyes shot up. ‘Leave’ the thought of her leaving him… suddenly felt…..it felt like something he did not want to happen….leave alone think about.
“Leave” he voiced his thought. “Where’d ya go?”
“I do not know,” she answered frankly. “Toronto I guess…” she didn’t specify how she would be getting there.
“Got someone there?” she shook her head at his question.
“Got the money…?” He was sure that she did not have it, and her muted answer confirmed his suspicion.

“Ya don’t need ta go anywhere,” he answered getting up from the sofa. “Ya can stay here fer as long as ya want.”
She was surprised at his offer and a little bit fearful of his intentions. “I can not do that. I have already troubled you and cannot burden you more. I cannot pay you in any way.”
Logan caught onto her nervousness. “I don’t want money or anything else from ya….ANYTHING” he made it clear. “I won’t touch ya….” he added, with the unspoken words ‘….not until ya want me to.’
“But….” she tried again, but was interrupted by his raised hand.
“As fer paying me back….ya can do it by taking care of this place” he pointed to the surroundings. “Ya know cleanin’, cookin’….all that shit.”
“Whatdya say?” he questioned at her silence. “I take care of the outside part and ya do it inside” he tried to sound nonchalant, but inside he was wanted the girl to stay with him. Something about her made him want to take care of her. He wanted her to stay here…stay with him.
“Yes”
“Yes?”
“Yes” she answered – a small smile of relief on her face.

“Ok” he smiled back at her. “Now let’s get some sleep….” Stepping towards the bed, he picked up one of the two pillows he owned. “ya take the bed” he pointed out to her, his tone telling her that he wouldn’t be shaken from his decision.

-----

Six months later,

“She looks just like her mama” Logan smiled at his girls – his wife Mariko and ‘his’ daughter….
“Amiko…daughter of Mariko and Logan …sounds good doesn’t it?” he was bursting with joy.

Mariko gave him a watery smile. She was exhausted after twenty hours of intensive labor and had just woken up after a long rest….and was holding ‘their’ daughter for the first time.
“Thank you Logan…” her voice was thick with love and gratitude. “For everything.”
“Na darlin’…” he shook his head, gently caressing his daughter’s cheek. She was the split image of her mother and even if she wasn’t born from him….she was HIS….in every way possible. All the blood and other biological shit be dammed. “….Thankya….fer being ya and for this angel here.”

Mariko had told Logan that she had been three months pregnant when they had met. That was her reason from running away from home. It seems that her boyfriend had gone a bit too far on one date and that had resulted in her present predilection. When she had come to know about the pregnancy, it was in front of her family….that was the first time she had vomited. She had then approached the shit-head, but he was too afraid to do anything about it. Her family had then turned her out….saying that she had dishonored them.
Not knowing what to do…she had decided to move across the country, to a place where no one knew her. What she did not take into account was the financial part of her travels…..and soon she was all out of money.

Luckily for her and for Logan, they had *run* into each other. What had started as him offering her a place to stay along with food, in turn for her household services….had turned into a camaraderie…and then finally into love.

Two months ago, Logan proposed to her over their weekly dinner at the diner where had first met. He had even managed to get a ring from his fight winnings. It was nothing fancy…a simple silver band, barely a couple of hundred dollars worth, but it was the commitment and conviction behind it that was new for both of them. One an orphan, who had lacked love and stability for his whole life, until her….and the other a pregnant teenaged adult who had been scorned by her own family and had lacked support and love…..until him.
Together they were planning to have a future…with each other and with the latest addition to their ‘new’ family.

----

Eight months later,

“Ready darlins’?” Logan said looking at his wife and daughter. At his question, Mariko turned from the building, smiling at him, unshed tears in her eyes.
“Hey….” Logan was at her side in an instant. “…..What happened?” he asked wiping her tears away, their sleeping daughter cradled in her arms, oblivious to the life altering change happening around her.
“Nothing” she said leaning into his embrace. “….Its just...just that it feels odd to leave this place. It has been our home…Guess I just feel nostalgic…feel attached to it.”
“I understand” Logan lied. He didn’t understand….well not completely. Having spent most of his life in the ‘system’ or on the road, the sense of being attached to a place wasn’t something he identified with. For him….home was with this family…..his wife and daughter.

“Come…lets go,” he instructed her, gently ushering towards their ‘new’ second hand trailer. They were leaving Calgary.

Right after their marriage and before Amiko’s birth, they had started talking about moving from their present ‘office’ apartment. Although he had a good thing going with his cage fighting gig, Logan also understood the responsibility that would arise from having a family…especially with an infant.
What he didn’t know was what would he do? That was where Mariko came in. She commented that he could get another job. He then told her about his level of education – grade six and also his skills – mainly fighting and a knack of fixing things….namely mechanical things….automobiles. Mariko had assured him that together they would be able to do it. She had complete confidence in him….and her love and confidence gave him the confidence to set upon a plan to improve his life.

Over the next ten months, he had to save as much money as he could. He even took a daytime job to supplement his income. Paul had been able to get him a job at his cousin’s automotive workshop. That had given him the practical experience that he would need when trying to get a new job.

A month ago, they had decided to move. Logan had managed to save around fifteen thousand dollars and with the five grand Paul had ‘gifted’ to them, they had enough money to get their new life started. Paul had also managed to get Logan a deal on a truck and trailer. Although he was going to miss his best fighter….he was happy with the way the young man’s life had turned every since that night at the diner.

Minutes later, they pulled out from the parking lot, hand in hand with their daughter asleep behind them.

----

Almost two weeks later, they reached their destination – New York, USA. Here, they would get the fresh start they needed.

Logan had managed to get a job….thanks to another old contact of Paul’s. They had taken up a small one-bedroom apartment in a ‘comparatively’ cleaner and respectable part of the city. Although not very clean, it was safer than their earlier place.
After selling off his truck, Logan managed to pay the deposit for the apartment and buy a decade old mid-size truck.

----

The years had been kind to the happy couple. They very much in love with each other and their beautiful daughter. Although they didn’t have any kids of their own, due to Mariko’s medical condition….they did have many new additions….Marie, Remy, Kurt, Piotr and most importantly….their second daughter…..Jubilation ‘Jubilee’ Lee.

Through his hard work and efforts, Logan had managed to save enough money to buy a large piece of land. There they had opened up his own workshop. A couple of years later he even started selling second hand cars.

They were a happy and content. Once Amiko started with school, Mariko had even completed her G.E.D. Neither of them had planned on her getting a job…..and she didn’t….until Logan started out on his own. The financial aspect of the business had initially unnerved him…and once again, it was Mariko who had come to the rescue. To Logan’s surprise and hers, they found out that she had a knack with handling the day to day running of a business.

Thus begun another chapter in their ‘partnership’. They were able to spend more time with each other ….and loved every second of it.

They were happy.

----

Until three years ago…..until Mariko left them….left him.

Mariko had a heart defect. It had been detected at a young age. Over time, she had forgotten about it. They came to know about it when they were trying to conceive.

It was due to that defect….that she died a few months after Amiko’s ninth birthday and their ninth marriage anniversary. Their last anniversary had been a trip down memory lane. Leaving Remy in charge of the sales part and closing the workshop for a month, they had taken a road trip of sorts tracing their route back to where it had all started…..the diner in Calgary.
Although their first ‘home’ was no longer there….the diner was. They repeated their first meal again….steak for him and vegetable burger and salad for her.

That had been their last anniversary together. A few months later….Logan was left all alone with two young daughters to take care off.

She had died at their home….in his arms.

----

Present,

It was late past midnight when Logan entered ‘their’ home. The sound from the living room drew his attention…someone was there. Walking to the room, he found Jubilee. She was asleep, curled up on the sofa, the television playing out in front of her.

Bending down, Logan extracted the picture frame from her hand. It was a picture of all of them….Logan, Mariko, Amiko and Jubilee. It was in front of the diner….the day they had been there. It was the last picture he had of Mariko. Although she looked a bit tired, her shining eyes and wide smile said everything about her true feelings….about her happiness to be with her family.

Setting the frame down on the coffee table, Logan turned to Jubilee and gently lifted her up into his arms.
‘Ummmmnnn….” She moaned in sleep, wiggling and burrowing deeper into his chest. At that moment she looked just like the eleven year old kid he had come upon…..and not like the feisty firecracker she had grown up to be.

Walking to her room, he gently laid her down on the bed and after taking off her shoes, drew the covers over her. Kneeling down next to her, he moved the stray hair away from her face and gently kissed her on the forehead.
“Hmmm….Wolvie….” she smiled in her sleep. “….Dad”
“Yes darlin’….” Logan whispered to her. “….Sleep”
“Hmmm….Ok” with that she turned sideways, burrowing deeper into the pillow.

Walking to the door, Logan took one last look at her, before closing the door behind him.

---

Note: Didn’t change this part of the story from the first time, ‘cause I liked it even then.

Next, more RoLo!!

05. Boys n’ Girls

Summary: Everyone is talking in this one, the girls about the boys and the boys about the girls….and then there is Scott.

---

“Hmph!”

Jubilee Lee was bored out of her mind. Not was she suspended from school, which was a good thing, she also was grounded at home. That meant no going out, no computers, no phone, no nothing. Like she said, “Hmph!”

All there was to do; was gaze out of the window and watch the people and cars pass by. All that he father allowed her was the TV, and everyone knows what great pastime programming daytime television is. Having spent the better part of the day lolling in front of the boob tube and after hours of senseless soap operas and talk shows, she was ready to chuck it into the garbage bin….or preferably at the people making those shows in the first place.

‘2:45 PM,’ the bedside clock said. Almost time for school to be over for the day.

Soon her best friend, Katherine ‘Kitty’ Pryde would be here, giving her the lowdown of the day’s events. Thankfully, Logan had not forbid that. Looking back at her actions, she knew that she could have handled the situation in a more mature manner. However, mature thought was farthest from her mind when she saw those punks harassing her sister.

Flopping down on her soft, yellow spread covered, queen-sized bed, she reminisced about the time Logan found her and brought her home. She had been nearly ten years old at the time.

----

//Flashback//

Time: six years and ‘change’ months,

“Hey did you find the little bitch?” Jubilee could hear the shopkeeper calling out to his assistants.
“Crap, crap, crap….Crrraaappp…” the preteen cursed at herself. “Jubilee Lee, you really screwed up this time. Why did you have to go for that apple?” Her growling stomach answered her question. “Oh yeah, haven’t eaten since yesterday, that’s why.”

It had been six months since her parents died in a car accident. After their deaths, Jubilee, an only child was handed over to their family friends. Not liking that family, she bided her time,a nd one afternoon when no one was at home, she slinked away and hitched a ride into the city. After wandering the lonely and scary streets for just one night, she gave up and headed to the mall her mother used to frequent. Being there made her feel closer to her parents and at the same time, allowed her to subsist by filching from the various shops and keeping an eye out for any spare change or sometimes even currency notes that fell from the purses and wallets of the mall shoppers.

Seldom venturing out of the mall, she always made it a point to return before it closed for the night. That was something she hadn’t been able to do yesterday and the mall was closed today. Almost twenty-four hours without food made her take the risk to steal from the fruit vendor.

“Wasn’t really a good idea…was it?” she muttered, looking around for a place to hide and more importantly somewhere warm and dry, her eyes fell on an old beaten up camper. Thanking the ‘lock’ gods for the unlocked door, she stepped in to find a small kitchen and mattress inside the trailer. ‘Must be a truck driver.’

Rummaging around, all that the famished girl found was slightly stale beef jerky. Starting to eat, she found that her throat was parched, making it near impossible to get the jerky down her throat. Opening the cooler, she found only beer cans. She had once tasted beer with her friends and nearly lost her food.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Taking out one can, she flipped it open. Holding her nose with one hand, she tilted her head back and guzzled the cool liquid down, its bitter taste notwithstanding.

“Yuck” The half-filled can pushed away, the rest of the jerky went down a bit smoothly and removed the offensive taste of the beer from her mouth. “I am never doing that again. At least not until I am like eighty years old,” vowed Jubilee, her head already feeling light from the effects of the alcohol.

Ten minutes later, she was asleep on the mattress, oblivious to her pursuers searching for her just few feet away from her.

Just like she missed detecting the shopkeepers’ assistants, so as she missed the return of the owner of the truck an hour later.

--

Many hours later,

“Uhn…” Jubilee moaned coming out of her beer and fatigue induced sleep. It took her few moments to realize that she was still in the truck and that the truck was moving. “MOVING” her inadvertent yell drew the attention of the driver.

“Yer up?” his obvious comment irked her, almost as much as the nervousness she felt from hearing his gruff voice.
“There is something fer ya ta eat on the counter….” He jerked a hand without looking back, “And some soda in the cooler. If ya want ya can come in the front.”

“Ummm…Thank you,” Jubilee reached for the food and drink. Standing up, she walked to the front of the truck.
“Where are we? Where are you taking me?” She asked, looking around as she plopped in the passenger seat. She couldn’t find any known landmark and it was clear that they were on some sort of highway. “Where are you taking me?” she asked in a louder voice, her bravado paling as she saw her savior/kidnapper for the first time.
Looking at her, he smirked at her attitude. He could practically smell the fear rolling off her, and still she maintained a brave face. Rolling his cigar to a corner of his mouth he grunted his answer. “New York”

“New YORK” Jubilee practically yelled out. “Bu…bu…but I was in LA few hours ago,” she answered disbelievingly. Narrowing her eyes at the driver, she asked slowly. “What are you going to do with me?”
“Listen kid, I am not goin’ ta hurt ya,” the driver tried to appear harmless, something that his large muscular body, long unruly hair and deep voice, made impossible for him to be.
“Logan” he introduced himself, offering his hand as a peace offering. “I saw those guys searching fer ya and then saw ya passed out on the mattress…”
“I wasn’t passed out” Jubilee insisted, knowing fully well that he was telling the truth. The beer had hit her hard. She had barely made it to the mattress, before falling down on it, asleep the moment her head hit it. “I was just resting.”
“Sure…” Logan humored her. “Ya were *resting* and I tried ta wake ya up. As those assholes were still lookin’ fer ya, I decided ta help ya out.”
“And kidnapping and taking me to New York will help me how?” Logan scowled at her comment.

“I ain’t kidnapping ya,” Logan clarified tightly. “I just wanted ta help ya. I have a *safe place* where ya can stay. If ya want I can drop ya off at the end town.”
Jubilee was silent for the next couple on moments, letting everything sink in. Los Angeles to New York sounded better than Los Angeles to some desolate town. Moreover, the man…Logan seemed truthful enough. He hadn’t laid a hand on her, which he could have done at anytime she was unconscious. If things didn’t work out in New York, she could always run away and find another mall.
“Jubilee” she said, taking his hand outstretched hand.
“Hnn…” was all Logan said, flashing a small grin at her. “Nice name.”

“So why are you doing this?” Jubilee asked after a few minutes, unable to contain herself. “Do you go around saving people and carting them to your *safe place*?”

“Something like that” Logan smiled an actual smile, a wistful one as he seemed to recall something from his past.

//End Flashback//

----

It would be three days until Jubilee came to know the reason behind his smile. It wouldn’t be from him, it would be from his wife and her second mother Mariko. It was on that day that Mariko told her about how Logan and she had met all those years ago on a cold night in Alberta.

Two weeks later, the couple made her an offer. They offered Jubilee a second home, one, which could be hers if she agreed to stay with them. Jubilee jumped at their offer, hugging them tightly, tears of joy in her eyes. All her initial suspicions and doubts had been laid to rest. The couple genuinely cared for her and Jubilee was falling in love with them and didn’t want to leave them ever. More than that, she had very attached to their five-year-old girl, Amiko. Both the girls called each other sister and even had cute nicknames for each other and everyone around them. Amiko called her Jubi, while Jubilee called Amiko leggy, because of her patented way of demanding attention. She was a quite child who did not cry or whine much. Instead, she would latch onto the person’s leg, mostly her dad, who used lug her around, clinging to his leg like a koala bear. Logan was Wolvie and Mariko was simply mom or ma, a name and feeling that Jubilee immediately felt towards the motherly Mariko.

Logan managed to sort out all the adoption details and six months later, Jubilation Lee was officially the daughter of James and Mariko Howlett and sister to Amiko Yashida Howlett.

-----

A ring at the front door drew her attention to it. Peering through the window, she saw a bicycle leaning against the garage. ‘Kitty’ she grinned, leaping off the bed and rushing to the door.

“Hey Kit-Kat” Jubilee chimed, opening the door for her best friend to enter. “How’s it hanging?”


Grinning at Jubilee’s choice of words Kitty stepped inside the house. The proverbial firecracker, Jubilee’s colorful language was something Kitty enjoyed but could never adopt. She almost died of embarrassment at the laughs she got from her classmates at her last try at talking like Jubilee. Even Jubilee snickered at her attempt to sound ‘street-wise’. She had since then given up on that plan of hers, except for when she was truly pissed off at someone. Then she channeled her inner Jubilee and lashed out, just like her yellow and purple clad friend.

“Hey Jubes,” Kitty shot back. “So what have you been doing all day? ….Besides stuffing your face with junk food and sitting in front of the television.”

“Hey! I resent that.” Jubilee punched her arm, trying to sound hurt. With that, she ran to her room, trying to dodge the punch from Kitty.

-----

“So tell me,” Jubilee pulled Kitty down onto the bed. “Anything interesting happen at the school?”
“Hmm…..” Kitty mused. “…No nothing. Oh wait a minute, something did happen.” Kitty’s face lit up.
“What? Gimmie all the details.”
“Well…” Kitty stalled.
“Kittttttyyyyy” Jubilee grabbed and shook her hard. “Come ON….spill the beans; let the cat out of the bag and all that….please. I have been bored out of my mind the entire day.”
“I would…” Kitty grinned and rubbed her stomach. “But I am too hungry to even stand up…leave alone gossip.”
“Hmph….” Jubilee scowled at her. “Fine. I’ll get you something to eat. But then you have to tell me everything…unless….” The words trailed behind her as she made her way to the kitchen, kitty following close behind her.
“Unless?”
“Unless, you want to lose your nice long ponytail in a nasty run in with a pair of scissors.”
“You wouldn’t….” Kitty was stunned at the threat, but only momentarily. She knew that Jubilee wouldn’t do anything to harm her. The threat was her way of begging Kitty for the information….but then again. It was Jubilee. You never know with her.

--

Ten minutes later,

Both the girls were back in Jubilee’s room, a plate of hot instant noodles in one hand and a fork in the other, and two soda cans on the tray lying on the bed.

“So….” Jubilee asked between mouthfuls. “What happened?”
“Bobby and Lorna are an item…..” Kitty blushed at her choice of words. “I mean they are together now.”
“Wow” Jubilee said after a moment of stunned silence. “The class clown and the class hottie….Wow. But wait; wasn’t she dating someone else from another school?”
“College now,” Kitty corrected her. “She was dating Mr. Summers’ younger brother Alex.”
“Oh yeah…” Jubilee remembered the other boy’s name. “So what happened? When did they break up? How did it happen?”
“Well, Lorna and Alex went together for almost eight months, until last month.”
“Oh…so that was it was,” Jubilee’s eyes widened at the memory. “I knew they were having some problems, but breakup. So what happened?”
“Don’t know,” Kitty shrugged her shoulders. “But today both of them came together, sat together in class and in lunch hour and held hands. And…and on my way here, I saw them kissing each other.” Kitty turned red at the mere thought of physical intimacy.

“Good for the Iceman. I always knew he had a thing of Dane. He would always eye her when he thought no one else was looking. Moreover, he wasn’t his usual flippant brash self in front of her. When she started going out with Alex, he was down for days,” Jubilee reminisced, a smile playing on her lips. Bobby was a friend and an overall good guy…that is, if you neglected his pathetic jokes. Turning towards a blushing Kitty, she chuckled. “Kit Kat, what about you?”

“What about me?” Kitty was surprised at the sudden change in subject. Jubilee’s next words made her blush even harder.
“What about me?” Jubilee imitated her. “What I mean is, when are you going to finally gather up the courage with Pete?”
“Oh…” Kitty turned red at the mention of her crush on Logan’s apprentice. “That-That’s nothing….we are just….”

“Oh knock it off” Jubilee cried out. “I see the way you look at him. It’s like he’s a Hershey’s Kiss and you want to eat him all up. And….” Jubilee leaned closer as if to reveal some big secret. “He likes you, you know.”
“HE DOES!” Kitty squeaked. “I mean…he does?”

“Believe me,” Jubilee patted her hand. “He does, and I bet he wants to do all those with you…”
“Things? What sort of things?” Kitty was doing a pretty weak job of disguising her interest.

“Kissy-kissy things,” Jubilee puckered her lips, making kissing sounds and hugging herself hard. “Get the idea….” She winked at her shy classmate, who by now was as red as a tomato, her hands held over her face.

“Do you really think so…?” Kitty questioned hopefully, her fingers spreading out to allow her to look at the grinning visage of her best friend.
“What that he likes you?” Kitty nodded her head. “Totally.” Jubilee punched her thighs to emphasize herself.

A dreamy look came over Kitty’s face as she lost herself in thoughts of the gentle and shy Russian giant.

-----

“Kitty” Jubilee shook her day dreaming friend. “Earth to Kitty….answer Kitty”
“Uhn…Oh, sorry” Kitty apologized. “I guess I just…”
“Got lost in Russian dreams, huh” Jubilee poked her in the side. “Don’t worry Kit-Kat. Do not fear for Jubilee is here,” She puffed out her chest. “I will get your love life in order.”
“Yeah sure” Kitty swatted her outstretched arm. “You haven’ been able to get one for yourself and now you are going to help me. No thank you.”

“ME…” Jubilee exclaimed. “…A love life….hah. Nor do I have the time for it, nor is it going to happen in this lifetime.”
“Why? Why do you say that?”
“My dad,” Jubilee answered with a smirk. “He thinks boys my age have just one thing on their hormonally stunted minds. Well actually two….girls and how to get into their pants.”
“They are not all like that,” Kitty insisted. “….Are they?”
“Don’t worry Kitten,” Jubilee calmed her. “Your Petey is not like that.”
“Oh…Ok,” Kitty smiled at that. ‘Your Petey,’ it had a nice ring to it. “Why do you say you don’t have the time?”
“Well I do have a couple of guys who I wouldn’t mind tonguing around with, but none of them are boyfriend material, just use ‘em and lose ‘em types.”

----

Elsewhere,

“Knock Knock,” a female voice sounded from the other side of the door.

Looking up, Ororo found a beautiful redheaded face, that of her friend, Jean leaning inside from the door.
“Oh, I am sorry…” Jean apologized, seeing the young Asian girl sitting next to Ororo. “I didn’t know you were still busy. I’ll come back…”
“Its alright Jean,” Ororo waved her inside. “Please come in. We were just wrapping up for the day.”
Smiling at her, Jean entered the classroom and sat a couple rows away from the teacher-student couple.

Ten minutes later, Ororo finished her tuition class for the day and was about to send Amiko on her way when Jean’s fiancé, Scott entered the room.

Wishing all three adults goodnight, Amiko silently left the room, leaving three very different lines of thoughts behind her.

“New student?” Jean inquired; recalling the conversation she and Ororo had had just a few hours earlier.
“Yes,” Ororo nodded. “Amiko Yashida. Her parents requested for a tutor if possible and Scott here put me up to it. Today was her first day, and I must say I was surprised by her level of command over the English language.”
“Why?” This time Scott was the one with the question. Thanks to the showdown with her father, he had been taking special interest in Ms. Yashida. With a man like that for a father, who know what sort of a home environment the young girl must be having.

“She is not weak in English. In fact, she is better than many other students of her class are. She doesn’t need actual tuition as much as someone to guide her….” Ororo stopped for a moment as she realized something.

“Her father speaks just fine,” Scott frowned as he recalled Mr. Howlett’s visit to the school.
“Shocked? Why?” Jean looked up at him. Ororo, having actually witnessed it, wisely decided to sit this one out. With Scott…well, he could carry a grudge…for quite some time. It was his whole perfectionist attitude that made him this way.

---

Drawing a chair, Scott settled down. Rubbing his forehead to drive the day’s fatigue away, he started speaking.
“Her father…” he tried to get the correct words. “Well he wasn’t what I was expecting.”
“Why?”
“Well for one, he is not Japanese. He is American. No, more like Canadian. At least it sounded like that from his accent.”
“Hmm….” Jean nodded her head. “…and.”
“He doesn’t look old enough to be a father of a twelve year old girl, let alone a sixteen year old one…nor does he look safe enough,” Scott added under his breath.

“Sixteen year old?”
“Scott!” Ororo hoped that Scott would refrain from passing judgment over someone’s family. Although Amiko was new to her and to the school, she had taught Jubilee in the past, and except for a motor-mouth attitude, there was very little to fault in the mostly studious and respect giving Jubilee.

---

However, from the hard glint in Scott’s eyes that was not to be. Removing his glass, he rubbed the bridge of his nose before recounting the meeting, starting from his first look at James Howlett, the identity debacle, the cause for his coming to the school, his elder daughter’s suspension and Mr. Howlett’s scathing remark before he left the room.

“I guess we found the reason behind Jubilation’s wild streak. She definitely takes after her father,” Ororo smirked lightly. “Although I must say, I agree with him. He did say the right thing.”
“Me too,” Much to Scott’s chagrin, Jean seconded Ororo. “He was correct in what he said.”
“Hmph,” Scott frowned at their words. He knew that what Mr. Howlett said was correct…well, to an extent. There was no way he was going to agree with that man. He came into his office and lambasted him. That was just not done. He was the vice principal after all.

“Jubilation is Amiko’s sister,” Ororo tapped her chin, thinking about their different last names. “Yes.” Once again, Scott agreed reluctantly. “I checked the document, and it’s as they say it is. He is their father and legally they are sisters.”
“Hmmm…” was all Ororo could say before Jean piped up and changed the subject.

“Hey I didn’t come here to hear you two talk shop, are we going to have this dinner or should I go home and nuke yesterday’s pizza?”
“Ok ok,” Scott held up his hands in defeat. He knew what Jean was doing, she was trying to get his thoughts away from the school and its stresses to relax him, and he appreciated that quality of hers. “Come lets go,” he stood up and held out a hand for Jean.

“You coming Ororo.” It was more of a statement than a question from the flame haired doctor.

“Just give me a minute.”

---

Five minutes later, as the trio stepped down the steps of the school, one of them was still thinking about the ferocious Mr. Howlett….

….and it wasn’t Scott.

06. Charging Up

Summary: They meet again and sparks fly.

---

A couple of days later,

“Dad.”

Logan looked up from under the hood of the car he was working on to see his younger daughter skip into the workshop area looking for him.

“Here,” he lifted his hand to let her know of his position.
“What happened?” he asked her as she came closer. “And what are ya doing here? What about yer tuition class?”
“Finished,” Amiko came and stood next to the fender.
“So, why ain’t you at home?”

“I had to talk to you. Its very important.”
‘Important?’ Logan straightened up at the word. What had happened now? “What’s so important kid that it couldn’t wait till I got home?”
“Its about the tuition.”
“What about it? The teacher not good?”

“No, no,” Amiko shook her head. “Its nothing to worry about. Its just that Ms. Monroe, my teacher, she wants to meet.”
“Meet me?” Logan asked slowly, getting a nod in return. “What about?”

After his recent visit to the girls’ school, Logan wasn’t in any hurry to do a repeat performance. As far as he was concerned, both of his daughters did just fine in school, although he sometimes thought, Jubilee didn’t try hard enough to fulfill to her potential….but until she was happy, and got a good life, it was fine with him.
.
He already knew that she did not have any plans of going in for higher studies, maybe just college, even though he wanted her to. She had decided to join him in his work. She had already started testing the ropes, by working in the summers. It helped her to learn about the business and at the same time make some money. Her working here also worked out in Logan’s favor as he didn’t have to worry her working at one of those fast food places or worse at some other shady place. Never having a chance to live and enjoy his childhood, Logan wanted his girls to live his childhood years along with their own.

---

“Why does she wanna meet me?” He asked again, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“Something about my weekly progress,” Amiko recalled what Ms. Monroe had told her. “Its kinda like Parents-Teachers meeting. All the parents do that.”
“We never did that before, either with ya or with Jubes,” countered Logan.

“Yes, but we never had tuition before. Did we?” came the reply. From the changed expression on her father’s face, Amiko realized that even though she had hit the nail on the head, he wasn’t quite sold on the idea. “….and as she is only teaching me there, so you are the only one that has to meet her.”
“Uh…” Logan started, still not quite comfortable with the idea. “When does she wanna…when is this meeting? An’ who are gonna be there?” The last question was more for Scott than for anyone else. The last he met him, Logan was ready to punch the living daylights out of the smug asshole. He wasn’t sure he would be able to contain himself if it happened a second time.

“Just you, me and Ms. Monroe,” Amiko prattled off the names. “And its either Friday evening at the school or Saturday at her house.”

“Friday, at the school.”

‘Its just one meeting, would’nta change ‘nything.’

----

Friday evening,

Ororo had finished with her hourly tuition class with Amiko and was talking to the girl while she waited for her father to pick her up. Although, supposed to meet him today, and liking that the father was taking interest in the girl’s studies, she had regrettably postponed the meeting until tomorrow.

Although she trusted Scott’s opinion of people, it looked like that this time he had it wrong. She had been teaching Jubilee for a couple of years and although the fiery girl could be handful sometimes, she had never been disrespectful towards her or any of the other teachers, nor had she lagged behind in her studies. She had seen the same qualities in Amiko, even if she like a light breeze compared to hurricane Jubilee.

“Amiko, tell me about your family,” she asked the young girl, trying to pass the time until Mr. Howlett got there.
“Hmmm…” Amiko mused for a second, trying to gather the correct words. “There is me, my older sister – Jubilee and our Dad. Then there is Marie, she is also like a sister. She is older than Jubilee. Then there are Remy, Kurt and Petey. Kurt is Marie’s twin brother, but he is from Germany. Petey’s full name is Piotr Rasputin. He is from Russia, and Remy is Remy Lebeau. He is from New Orleans, and talks in a funny way. He and Marie like each other.”

Ororo smiled at the animated introduction Amiko had given of her family members, but also noted that she did not say anything about her mother.
“And your mother….” she asked hesitantly, regretting it as soon as the words left her mouth. The light in the young girl’s eyes seemed to lose some of its brightness.
“She…died,” Amiko’s answer was soft, her head lowered down to her chest. “Three years ago.”
“I-I’m sorry,” Ororo apologized for the child’s loss. Having lost her own parents as a child; she understood and empathized with the young girl’s situation.

After a moment’s silence, she tried again, speaking in a light voice to try to lift the girl’s spirits. “Tell me about your dad.”
“My dad is the best dad ever.” The brightness came back. “He is from Canada, from Alberta. He and mommy met there. He saved her people from trying to harm her and then gave her a place to stay. He took special care of her, as she was pregnant with me. They married two months before I was born. When I was eight months old, we came here, to New York and have been staying here since then.”
Ororo was taken aback by what Amiko had told about her father. “Amiko….how old is your father?”
“Hmm…..thirty two or thirty three, I think.”
“You think?” Ororo smirked at her.
“I remember,” Amiko said enthusiastically, before quieting down. “But he is not sure. He lost his mommy-daddy when he was a small baby.”
“Oh,” Ororo felt like smacking herself. She had yet again managed to put her foot in her mouth. Opening her mouth to speak, she couldn’t form words.

“What about your sister, Jubilation? Tell me about her.”
“Oh Jubilee,” Amiko began. “She….”

A knock on the door interrupted them.
“Yes, come in.”
“Uhn….Ms. Monroe,” a security guard entered the room. “There is a man outside the school. He says he is here to meet you and pick up a student named Amiko Yashida.”
“Oh, ok,” Ororo nodded her head, thanked the man and gestured towards Amiko. “Come Amiko, let us go.”

----

Minutes later, both teacher and student stepped outside the school doors.

“Dad,” Amiko called out, causing the man, whom Ororo now recognized as Mr. Howlett to turn around from his stair side seating.

‘Goddess,’ Ororo gasped internally at the sight before her. This man, though the same Mr. Howlett as the one who had been in Scott’s office, was very different from what he had been earlier that week. Gone was the cotton pants and plain white shirt. In its place, was, the tightest jeans that Ororo had ever seen anyone wear and a jet black t-shirt covering and outlining an impressive upper body and arms.

This Mr. Howlett truly didn’t look like he was the father of a twelve year old girl, let alone a sixteen year old one. He looked like the kind of man, parents warned their children to stay away from.

“Hey kid,” his naturally gruff voice completely suited to his denim clad, mutton chopped biker look.

It was his eyes that caught and held Ororo’s attention….something she hadn’t paid attention the first time around. He had deep hazel eyes and while they had been hard and unemotional when he first turned back, they changed the moment Amiko came in their line of sight. They lit up, the gold in them shining like the setting sun.

---

Standing up from his seat, Logan cracked his neck, stretching his body while waiting for Amiko, to come down the stairs. Reaching him, she handed him her bag, which he casually slung over one shoulder, his smoldering cigar still held between the first two fingers of his other hand.

Snapping out of her stunned state, Ororo stepped towards the father-daughter duo, seemingly busy conversing with each other.
“Dad, this is my teacher, Ms. Monroe,” Amiko piped up.
Ororo gave a small smile but was shocked to find a large hand thrust towards her. Neither of them mentioned their first meeting, something which both of them wanted to forget.

“Nice ta meet ya,” was the gruff but earnest greeting.
Maintaining her smile, Ororo raised her own slender hand for a perfunctory shake.

The moment their hands touched, both Ororo and Logan’s eyes widened as a feeling of electricity passed through them. Both pulled their hands back, Ororo placing hers’ behind her back, while Logan stared at his own, turning it both ways to check for the reason of the intense and unusual sensation.
“Dad…..daaaddd,” Amiko’s insistent voice, brought them back from their reverie. “Lets go,” she said, walking away towards Logan’s jeep.
“Uhn…yeah,” Logan looked momentarily lost as he tried to gather himself. “G’night Ms. Monroe,” he looked at Ororo, his heated gaze burning through her.

“Ororo,” he looked at her, his brow crossed with confusion. “My name is Ororo.”
“Oh,” his temple relaxed, an easy smile coming over his weather beaten face. “Logan,” he said, starting to offer his hand again, but stopped before it could rise all the way.
“Nice to meet you Logan,” this time Ororo was the one to make the overture by offering her hand for a second hand shake.
The moment their hands touched, they same electric charge seemed to pass through them again, connecting them to each other. This time however, they did not pull back. Instead, their grips subconsciously tightened against each other, both of them enjoying the pleasurable sensation.

----

“Daaaaddd,” Amiko’s cry caused them to withdraw once again.
“Good night….” Logan wished once again. “….’Roro,” he ended with a smile.
“Good night Logan,” Ororo wished back.

Walking towards the jeep, he stopped outside it and gave Ororo one last lingering look, before opening the door and getting inside the vehicle.

Watching the jeep drive away, Ororo let out the breath she had been holding and ran a hand through her long tresses.

“Oh Goddess….what was that?”

----

That night,

Ororo had been turning about in her bed, trying to get a few hours of peace. However, the goddess for some reason seemed to be annoyed with her and wasn’t letting her get that small luxury. Whenever she closed her eyes, she found herself dreaming the same dream.

‘In the dream she was a princess, captured and closed in a glass prison, able to see everything around her but not able to touch it, not even for the slightest touch.

Then one day, her very own prince charming came and broke her glass prison with a single touch of his hand. However, unlike the princes of fairy tales, her prince didn’t come on a white stallion. Her prince….he came riding on a black metal steed, its mechanical thumping echoing in the air. Her prince had unruly hair, peaked at the edges like a crown, or more like ears of a wolf.

Breaking free from her prison, she took his offered hand, an electric jolt running through both of them, exciting them…..joining them.

Grabbing hold of his hand, she got on his stead….and together they rode away into the setting sun. Together…to live happily ever after.’

-----

“Good morning Ms. Monroe,” the diminutive Japanese-American girl wished her as she opened the door for her.
“Good morning Amiko,” Ororo wished back, her eyes subconsciously scanning the driveway…as if looking for someone,. “How did you reach here? Wasn’t your father going to come today to discuss about your progress?” she asked calmly, just managing to reign in her curiosity and impatience.

“Petey left me,” she answered as she looked around at the exquisitely appointed house.
“And your father?” Ororo broke her wonderment.
“Today is Saturday, he sleeps in late,” Ororo answered as she gazed at the small crystal sculptures inside the showcase. “He will come to pick me up.”
“That will be better,” Ororo answered a little relieved, but unable to keep the regret out from her voice. She wanted to see him again….in spite of knowing that she musn’t feel like this. The relief was because she would be able to conduct her two-hour class without her heart doing the cha-cha.

“Come on,” she laid a hand on the young girl’s back. “Lets get you something to eat.”
“I already had breakfast,” the young girl gave a toothy smile. “Jubes’ day for breakfast today. So it was sugar-rich cereal. Six different kinds; all mixed together. She had hers with chocolate milk, while I had with plain milk.”

Ororo felt her stomach knot at the mere thought of the sugar high that the ‘breakfast’ would give. ‘No wonder she is always so…..energetic,’ she smirked at the thought. ‘All that sugar has to come out some where.’

“Well, I still have to have mine. We’ll start with a revision of what we covered yesterday and once I finish, move onto the next lesson. Are you sure I cannot get you anything? Milk? Some Fruit? Juice?”
“No thank you,” Amiko shook her head.
“Ok, maybe later then,” she smiled at the reaction of the girl at her words.
“Sure,” Amiko nodded her head. “Later….once my dad comes over.”

‘Sure,’ Ororo thought as she gulped consciously. ‘One he comes over.’

------

“Where’s ‘kiko?”

Logan growled as he trudged into the kitchen, his usually unruly hair, sticking in each and every direction. “Ain’t she gotta go fer her class?”
“She already left,” Jubilee answered from in front of the television.
“What?” Logan’s eyes snapped wide open. “I was going ta go with her. I had ta meet her teacher Ms….Ms…..Ororo.”

“Ororo,” Jubilee looked back at him. “How did you know Ms. Monroe’s name?”

“She told me,” Logan yanked the kitchen door open and selected the juice to drink. How things had changed? It used to be that his breakfast used to be a nice cold beer and whatever what left lying around. That was years ago…almost like a different lifetime, a different man, if you could call him that.

Looking at his older daughter, he smirked. What a difference a family makes? Now he lived his life for them, his girls….and had to set an example for them. That meant no drinks at home…well, almost no drinks at home, except for game nights….and Saturday nights.
After closing the workshop for the day, he, Remy, Kurt and Piotr used to go across the road to Marie’s diner. There used to commandeer a corner and set about on their game. Jubilee and Amiko also used to come over to the diner and together all of them used to enjoy the best southern cooking around. He and Remy used to enjoy their quota of the hard stuff, with Petey joining them occasionally. Kurt was still underage and used to limit himself to ‘root’ beer. A waste of the ‘beer’ name…..which is what it was to Logan. Beer was beer, alcoholic, with a nice kick. There was no such thing as non-alcoholic beer.

“Dad….dad….WOLVIE,” Jubilee’s shrill voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Dadddieee…”
“What dya want?” he arched one shaggy brow.
“Wha….” Her mouth fell open.
“Jubes, I know this look of yers,” he pointed at her. “This look and this ‘dadddieee’ of yers. So what dya want?”

“Its nothing much,” she hesitated...deliberately. “No biggie.”
“Jubes.”
“I need to make a call,” she winced and looked away from him
“Ya know ya are grounded,” he reminded her.
“I know, I know,” the brave front was back on. “But it’s very important.”
“Yeah,” she nodded at him. “Let me guess. Ya have ta talk to that half-pint friend of yers. That Meow-Kat.”
“Kitty.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Logan reached for the TV remote.

“So can I make the call,” she was practically hanging off his arm now.

“Dad,” she tried again at his silence.
“I am thinkin’,” he changed the channels.
“Daaaddd,” it was a plea now.
“Hmph,” he finally relented. “Ok.”

“Thank you, thank you,” she rose up and kissed his cheeks. “Ew, morning stubble. Chaffed my lips.”
“Grr…No more than thirty minutes.”
“One hour,” she tried to bargain.
“Twenty five,” he countered back.
“Ok, ok,” she leapt off the sofa. “Sheessh, what all do I have to bear here,” she placed the back of her wrist at her forehead, presenting a mock dramatic pose.

“Git,” Logan huffed at her.
“Hmph,” she stormed off.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” her head peeked through the door. “You better get ready.”
“Why?” he inquired as he scratched along his stubble.
“Don’t you have to go to pick up Amiko,” the eyebrows were wiggling again. “Meet Ms. Or-Ro-Oh,” she dragged the name out as she disappeared from view, leaving him to think about the white haired Nubian beauty that had occupied his thoughts since the previous evening.

-----

An hour later,

*Ding Dong* the bell announced someone at the door.

“Just a minute,” Ororo excused herself, instructing Amiko to complete reading the lesson they were currently on.

Reaching the door, she unlocked and swung it open, her eyes widening momentarily at the person who stood in front of her, her lips curving up in a smile.

This was an unexpected surprise.

“DAD!” Ororo gasped at the pleasant surprise of seeing her father before her. She knew he’d be at the country club, the same country club from which she was trying to get a ‘slip’ out.

“Ororo,” Charles Xavier returned as his daughter leaned down to hug him. Near fatally injured in a car accident years ago, he legs crushed beyond repair, the fifty plus, Charles used his trusty wheelchair to get about. Although, it took him almost a year of strenuous physiotherapy, along with a weekly visit to a psychiatrist, he overcame the shock of losing the use of his legs. Since then, he gained his life back, opened up a school, which, thanks to his and the people he chose, and was among the top private schools of the state.

---

Standing beside him was Dr. Moira MacTaggert. A friend of the family, Charles and Moira’s association went way back to when they first met at Oxford. He had been admitted on a scholarship and so was she. Starting as classmates, they soon became friends and in time something more, except….Moira Kinross, as she was known then, was already seeing somebody. Marine Corporal Joe MacTaggert. However, that problem took care of itself when Moira ended her association with the handsome, and when he wanted, charming, Joe.

Engaged to be married, the two lovers had their plans put to a halt when Charles joined the military and was sent off to war. Moira promised that she would wait; a promise that Charles returned and cherished with all his heart. They even met during Charles’s ‘somewhat’ mandatory and sorely needed R&R break. Things started to go wrong when, during the last two months of his duty, Charles did not get even a single letter from Moira. Puzzled and more than slightly worried, the newly discharged Lieutenant Xavier returned home to find the love of his life, the woman he was engaged to, married and already expecting her first child.



What happened next is something that Charles regrets to even this day. Going against Moira’s ‘Dear John’ letter, the one she left with a mutual friend, Charles tracked down the, now, Mrs. Joe MacTaggert. His anger and hurt, already blazing by Moira’s betrayal, and that too with that man, crossed all limits when a ‘puffed’ chest and intoxicated Joe, took a swing at him. The same had happened before, before Charles and Moira were together. In a show of his ‘manhood’ and ‘control’ over his woman, Joe kissed Moira in a way that was scandalous at the time, and then with the same passion and much more force, sent a upper cut flying towards the shorter, lighter Charles. Never a proponent of violence, Charles remained silent and let Joe bask in his superiority his being ‘the man’ complex. However, that Charles wasn’t the one who tracked down his ex-fiancée and faced off against her husband. This new Charles was a hurt, tired, war-fatigued man…..and this Charles did not step down or turn the other cheek. He did not even wait to retaliate; he took matters into his own hands and beat the living daylights out of the man who had four inches and at least fifty pounds of body weight over him.

That was not what troubled him or was the cause of his guilt. His shame came from what happened next….Moira intervened, and in his rage, Charles pushed her back when she tried to stop his blows. In his trying to free himself, his elbow connected with the side of her head, knocking her unconscious. Horrified at what he had done, Charles instantly came to his senses. He carried Moira and the bleeding and almost unconscious Joe to inside the house, called the paramedics….and fled before the police could get there.

Never forgiving himself for what he had done, it would be years before he would see Moira again. In the meantime, his whole life changed around him…just as hers did.

---

Delving into archeology as a hobby, on trip to Cairo, Egypt, he met a young and struggling photographer named David Monroe. Working as a freelance agent, David followed such expeditions with a hope to make some extra money and possibly a name for himself. The two of them hit it off almost immediately. Although not knowing much, very practically nothing, about the intricacies of archeology, David did have a good eye for detail and a steady hand, and if that wasn’t enough, he had a never say die attitude that rivaled the most dedicated of professionals. Working with him, Charles found himself pushing further to perform better. Thus began their partnership, a symbiotic relationship that soon grew into friendship, until David and his newly married wife, a Kenyan tribal princess, N’Dare, whom David met on one such exploratory expedition, became like family to the orphaned and completely alone Charles. When David and N’Dare passed away, in accordance with their wishes, it was who got custody of their barely five-year-old daughter.

Things went on like that for years; Ororo slowly came out of the shock of losing her parents and grew under the care and guidance of her adopted father. As for Charles, he gained much more than a daughter in Ororo. Growing into an intelligent, smart and self-confident, but at the same time caring, young woman, she became not only his daughter, but also his closest confidant and his greatest personal achievement….ever.

…and then, Moira came back into life.

---

What Charles did not know, or in his rage, did not even try to find out, was the reason behind Moira and Joe’s sudden matrimonial. It was true that she had betrayed him, but….well, there were a lot of ‘buts’. In Charles’s absence, she and her Joe grew closer again, and although she had no intention of leaving or even betraying Charles, it all changed in a single night….in a single moment of loss of reason. Ashamed at what she had done, Moira wanted to profess it all to Charles. She knew that he loved her, just as she loved him….and she would have, once he finally returned from his assignment, had it not been for what happened next….she became pregnant. Her parents, fearful of the shame it would bring them in the community, and not even considering abortion in keeping with their strict Catholic faith, married her off to the first man at hand, the father of her unborn child, Joe.

Already a marriage of convenience, things grew even worse after Charles beat up Joe. Favoring the ‘bottle’ for quite some time, Joe’s bruised ego sought escape in even more alcohol. It all ended when one night, after unsuccessfully trying to get Moira to withdraw from her studies and stay home doing what, in Joe’s eyes, a good wife should, Joe rode off into the rain….never to return. According to the police, he seemed to have taken a turn too fast. That coupled with the rain and the wind and his intoxicated state, sent him hydroplaning into the stone wall.

The shock caused Moira to go into labor prematurely….her baby born stillborn.

It would be weeks before she would even venture out, months before she finally resumed her studies. Losing Charles, and then Joe and finally her baby, turned off Moira from everything and everybody, including her family….and left only one avenue for her, her studies and her work. Throwing herself headlong into it, she excelled in her field of choice, pediatrics. It was that choice and the name she earned from it, what brought her to America, more specifically, New York….and finally reunited her with her true love, Charles.

The road back to togetherness was a long and arduous one for both of them….one that they persevered and crossed. Together for almost seven years now, and living in the same house for almost five, they had regained and even crossed the love and happiness that they once shared and lost.

Moira had come to treat Ororo as a surrogate daughter, a mother-daughter relation that the then teenaged, but mature for her age, girl returned. Things hit a minor bump when Ororo expressed her desire to move out and live on her own….even though they were practically in the same city. Both Charles and Moira feared that it might have something to do with Moira’s moving in, a doubt that Ororo soon laid to rest.

----

“Moira,” Ororo reached out from her father’s embrace and towards the redheaded Moira, only to gasp in surprise at the sudden leaping out of her best friend and ‘usually’ mature, Dr. Jean Grey.

“What are you doing here?” Ororo narrowed her eyes at Jean, her twin sapphires glittering in mock annoyance. She knew why Jean was here. She also suspected that it was Jean, who had commandeered Charles and Moira to visit out of their usual Sunday afternoon visit.

“We’ve come to take you to the club,” Jean seemed to have had a bit too much coffee. ‘Late night at the hospital,’ mused Ororo.

Even before she could say no, Jean stepped up the stairs and launched her ‘groveling’ assault.

“Ororo, please, please, please,” she grasped Ororo’s hands, practically pulling her back into the house; Charles and Moira close behind them. “I need you to go with me today. Please.”
“Sorry Jean,” Ororo apologized as she freed one hand and closed the front door. “I already told you that I won’t be accompanying you guys to that sodden country club. Not this Saturday.” ‘Or any other Saturday, for that matter,’ she smirked silently.

“Ororo!” Jean’s voice rose in pitch. “Plleeeeeaaas….mmph.”
“Ssshhh,” Ororo clamped her mouth shut. “I have a student in there,” she jerked her free thumb over her shoulder, pointing towards her living room. “So keep your voice down. You are a doctor. Act like one.”
At Jean’s hurried nod, Ororo let go of her mouth, freeing her to talk.

“I AM a doctor,” Jean straightened her jaw. “A doctor, who has a day off from work and intends to enjoy every moment of it. Too bad her fiancé found this very day to take his baby to some stupid bike show. Now she has come to her best friend to beg her to join her and help salvage what is otherwise going to be a completely ‘sucky’ day.”
“Ok, Ok,” Ororo stifled her giggle. “You don’t have to be melodramatic. Why didn’t you go with Scott? You know how much he loves that motorcycle of his. He had saved a whole year to get enough money to buy it and then spent six months, *tricking* it out.”

“Don’t I know it,” Jean huffed. “Sometimes, I think he loves that piece of junk more than he loves me.”
“Jean its not that,” Ororo smiled and shook her head. “Its just that, that bike IS his first love. And its not as if he does anything *wild*, as you call it.”
“Yeah, boys and their toys,” chuckled Jean. “Honestly Ororo, you are right. I am supposed to be the mature one in this relationship, but Scott, he makes my grandfather, God bless his soul, and look like a punk rocker.”

---

“Scott has always been like this,” Ororo led Jean and the others to the living room where the young student sat reading from her book, a half chewed up end of her pen, stuck into her mouth. Seeing Ororo come in she instantly pulled it out, cleaning it against her denim-covered knee.
“Amiko, you remember Dr. Grey,” Ororo smiled as she gestured towards Jean.
“Good Morning miss,” Amiko greeted as stood up from her chair.
“Good morning Amiko,” Jean wished back, as she sat down on the single seating couch next to the large one.

“And this is my father, Professor Xavier,” she neglected ‘the Headmaster and Principal of our school’ additive, instead proceeded onto Moira. “And this is Dr. MacTaggert, my mother,” there was no hesitation on her part something that both gladdened and honored Moira….as well as Charles.

“Good morning sir, ma’am.”

“Amiko, that will be all for today,” Ororo reached for the phone. “Would you please call your home to let your father know that we will be free early and that I will be dropping you off.”
“Yes Miss,” Amiko nodded as she took the phone and dialed her home number.

----

“Its still coming engaged,” Amiko frowned after the first time. “Jubilee must be on the phone.”
“Oh,” Ororo smiled at the mention of the Amiko’s motor mouth sister.
“I could call and leave a message at his office,” Amiko offered hopefully. “He must be on his way there. Once he gets there he will get the message.”
“Office? On a Saturday?” Ororo asked.

“Yes,” Amiko nodded. “The workshop.”
“He works there?” Jean was surprised as how some one working at a workshop could afford to send, not one, but two children to a school like Xavier’s.
“Yes,” Amiko answered truthfully.

“Doesn’t he have a cell phone?” Ororo inquired, not wanting to leave a message. She had sensed the urgency in Jean’s voice.
“No, but Remy does. I could call him and he could give the message to dad. Or he could come here and pick me up.”
“That will be great,” Jean lit up….but only for a second.
“I guess,” the idea of letting the student go with anyone other than immediate family did not sit well with Ororo either.

-----

Half an hour later, Jean’s red Accord coupe came to a halt in front of an ‘under construction’ sign. Under it printed in big bold letters, OPENING SOON!! WESTCHESTER VW-AUDI.

Charles and Moira left in Moira’s Mercedes and would meet the at the club.

Pulling into the unpaved walkway, the three of them, Ororo, Jean and Amiko, stepped out only to come face to face with a tall smartly dressed young man.
“Amiko cherie,” Remy called out as he sauntered towards the trio.
“Hey uncle Remy,” Amiko grinned back as she led her teacher and her doctor friend towards the nearly finished double story structure.

“Your pepe inside,” the words had barely left his mouth when Amiko sprinted towards the building.
“Remy Lebeau at your service,” the charming Cajun flashed his perfect teeth to the red-n-white beauties.
“Is Mr. Logan inside?” Ororo inquired for formality sake.
“Mr.” Remy chuckled in surprise and led them along the path that Amiko had taken. “Don’t call ‘im Mr. He be called Logan or he be called Wolverine, but not Mr.”
“Wolverine?” Both women chimed up at the same time.
“Long story,” Remy looked sideways at them. “Maybe Remy can talk it wit’ you over dinner.”
“Engaged,” Jean flashed her ring. “Sorry.”
“Dat’ be bad,” Remy winked at her. “Beautiful women like you, taken away…tsk tsk. How about you cherie?” He looked towards Ororo, not letting up.

Before Ororo could answer, she saw Amiko coming back outside.
“What happened babe?” Remy turned towards her.
“Dad told me to wait outside,” Amiko scrunched her face as she kicked at a flattened bottle cover. “Didn’t sound too happy.”
“Is there something….” Ororo started.

“I don’t give a FUCK about you and yer SORRY EXCUSES,” Logan’s voice echoed right through the open door. “YA TOLD ME THREE MONTHS AND ONLY A WEEK IS LEFT. WHERE DO YA THINK THE CARS ARE GOING TA BE PUT UP, ON YER BALD HEAD?”

“Doesn’t sound good,” Jean frowned, her thoughts going back to Scott’s words about Amiko’s father. “Sounds angry.”
“Nothing t’ worry cherie,” Remy flipped his hand.
“Sure,” Jean crossed her arms at her chest, her frown fixed on her face. ‘Nothing to worry about.’

Just then, a shrill whistle rang out from inside signaling Amiko to come back inside.

------

Soon,

“So Mr. Lebeau,” Jean turned to her companion. Amiko was sitting a few feet away from them, completing her reading lessons, while Ororo was inside the only closed-off room in the place, with Logan, whom Jean had just seen briefly in passing. “Do you work with Mr….uh, with Logan?”
“Yes,” Remy answered cryptically, not giving out any more information than requested…it was an old habit, one from his not-so-legal days.
“And what exactly do you do here?” She gestured to the empty building.
“This be our new work place,” Remy stated with a smug smile. “At de old place, Remy be da manager and head salesman. Here, ‘e also part owner.”

“Part owner?” Jean’s eyes widened. “How big a part?” She blurted out even before she could contain herself. “I’m sorry, its none of my….”
“No much cherie,” Remy winked at her. “But enough t’ get Remy some honest money for ‘im to buy a nice house for himself and his Marie.”
“Oh,” Jean grinned back at him and the way he said, ‘his’ Marie. “So, you were just flirting around with us. What about Logan?” she inquired further. “Does he own a part here too? Or does he just work here?”

“Logan,” Remy pointed a finger at the closed door. “He be da big man ‘ere, but he don’ own nothing.”
“How can he be the big guy?” Jean double-quoted with her hands. “When he doesn’t own anything?”
“He is the head mechanic there,” Remy stated about their current place of operations. “Here, who knows?”
“Oh,” Jean nodded her head, still thinking something was missing from what Remy had told her.

What Remy had avoided telling was that although Logan did not own anything; he was the ‘big guy’ because he was one who was doing ninety-two percent of all the investing, the remaining three, after Remy’s five, was from Marie and Kurt. As for the question of the ownership, he had named his daughters, Amiko and Jubilee as the owners, not wanting to use his name to avoid dredging out his ‘illustrious’ and ‘infamous’ past.

------

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door,

Logan and Ororo had been talking for almost twenty minutes and had yet to bring up the topic of their next meeting, in place of the one she just cancelled. Feeling comfortable around each other, both of them had lost track of the time. It was only when Jean knocked at the door, did Ororo bring up the supposed main topic for their meeting.

“Sorry about the sudden change of plans,” Ororo apologized to the man before her. He was dressed in pretty much the same way, as he had been the evening before. The only thing different was that his hair seemed to be a little less unruly. ‘Must be from being indoors,’ she mused silently. Even his clothes much the same, only the shirt had changed, the red and green checkered flannel shirt giving way for a plain white one. ‘Formal clothing,’ she thought again, admonishing herself for getting distracted by things like combed hair and changed shirts.

“Don’t worry about it,” Logan answered evenly as he took in the sight before him. Ororo was dressed in a simple but smart, blouse and dress combo, with a thin silk shawl thingy draped over shoulders. ‘What do ya know about fancy clothes?’ Logan smirked at himself, finding it odd that he actually even cared to pay attention in the first place. “We can do it later.”
“Thank you Logan,” Ororo flashed an easy smile. “I hope you don’t mind me calling you Logan. Mr. Lebeau said….”
“Remy speaks a lot,” Logan arched his brow. “Many things that he shoudn’t. Guess it comes with the whole master salesman deal.”

“Sorry,” Ororo apologized, thinking that she had stepped over the boundary. “Mr. Howlett.” Although possessing an excellent memory, Ororo was surprised at the way his name just seemed to pop up and roll of her tongue….all by itself.
“Logan’s just fine,” the usually gruff and currently tense Canadian felt an unusual calm when talking with her. He had felt it the first time, during that meeting, and he felt it even now. At the same time, there was another feeling, one that he had never felt, no, only once felt towards a woman…..interest to know. Almost shaking his head to clear that feeling away, he asked his next question. “So when are ya free?”
“For?” Ororo questioned absent-mindedly. “Oh, for the meeting,” she remembered. “Today evening, hmmm, around six-thirty.”
“Sure,” Logan shrugged his shoulders. “Want me ta get Amiko with me?”
“If you wish, although there is no compulsion or requirement for her to be present.”

“Ok, Ororo,” he stood up along with her. “See ya in the evenin’.”

------

The day passed easily, too soon for Jean, but too slowly for Ororo. She found herself looking forward to her six-thirty appointment, the thoughts swaying between wanting to meet and know more about the enigma that was Logan and scolding herself to feeling this way towards a strange man.

She smiled softly at his parting comment. ‘It was nice t’ see ya again,’ his words echoing in her ears. Although a commonly used farewell greeting, it seemed something unique from his mouth…almost as if he truly meant them. From what she had heard and seen about him and from him, Logan did not seem like a person to just throw his words around. If he said something, he meant it. ‘He did like meeting you, even if he actually didn’t say that.’ Her smile grew wider at that particular thought.

‘You shouldn’t be feeling this way,’ a small voice tried to remind her, only to drown in her thoughts about Mr. Dark-and-Dangerous. That is what Jean had called him, after she had seen him up close.

However, one good thing did come from Jean seeing and meeting him. She had been able to see first hand, the love and care he showered on his daughter. That had cleared up a lot doubts in her mind, the ones she had of her own and the ones Scott’s impression of Logan had planted in her. During her time at the construction site and later with Ororo, she had sensed Ororo’s attraction, or at least fascination towards Logan. It was similar to something she had felt in herself, but while hers was a mere appreciation of a fine specimen of the opposite sex, Ororo genuinely seemed interest.

None of that seemed to affect Ororo. She was only thinking one thought.

‘Hope he comes on time.’

---

Note: The Charles and Moira story is similar to the one in Uncanny X-Men #117 and #389, but with a different twist and reasoning. Joe MacTaggert’s character and thoughts are from the same issues.

Pics: The Uncanny X-Men #117

Please Review!!

That evening,

“Please come in,” Ororo smiled in greeting to her guest. ‘He changed his clothes,’ was the first thing Ororo noticed. Unknown to her, the change was all because his elder daughter, Jubilee forcing him to ‘ditch’ the grungy jeans in favor of a cleaner look.

“Logan…Mr. Howlett,” her honey smooth voice pulled him out of thoughts.
“Huhn, what?” It came out harsher than he wanted. “Sorry,” he winced. “Say anythin’?’
“Yes. Please come in,” Ororo smiled and gestured towards the inside of the house. “That is unless you want to sit out here on the porch.”
“Uh, anythin’ goes with me,” Logan replied succinctly. Not one to make small talk or as he called it, idle chatter, Logan preferred to keep his questions, comments and or suggestions, short and mostly to himself. The only time he let go was either when he was watching hockey or was angry and bellowing at someone or a combination of the previous two, that is, watching hockey, getting angry at one of the players and bellowing at him…well, at the television. “Yer house, yer rules.”

Slightly taken aback by his blunt frankness, something she did not come across too much with the people she usually moved around with, Ororo recovered quickly. “Hmm,” she mused. “Lets sit outside. It is a nice evening and a cool breeze is flowing. But not here, at the back, the patio.”
“’k, lead on,” Logan gestured for her to show the way.

--

Moving aside, Ororo made way for Logan to come in.

As he stepped through the door, Logan instinctively reached to close it behind him, his larger, calloused hand accidentally touching and sliding over Ororo’s slender one. That simple touch, just a second in its duration, brought back the same feeling as they had senses when they shook hands at the school, as a slightly unnerving but at the same time invigorating electric charge rushed through both of them.

“Uhn-sorry,” Logan quickly apologized and put a couple of feet’s distance between himself and Ororo.

There was something about Ororo that set off his mental alarms, causing him to feel as he felt he should not. At one time, he might have gone after her if only for ‘physical’ purposes. But not now, and definitely not with a woman like her. The last twelve plus years, including the time he had spent with his Mariko had taught him many things. She had taught him many things, including how to live like a proper human being and not like the animal he had been.

Besides, Ororo did not look like a woman who would have anything to do with people like him. She probably had a boyfriend somewhere. Some executive or IT professional….or, ugh, someone like that Scooter. ‘Summers.’ The name alone was enough to raise Logan’s hackles. ‘Don’t let it be him.’

-----

“Is something the matter?” Ororo noticed the silence and mistook the lost look in her eyes for tension or reluctance…or maybe, “Did you forget something?” she asked, subconsciously hoping that it wasn’t the matter. “We can postpone…..”
“Nah,” Logan shook head, and offered his ‘putting-at-ease’ lop sided grin. “Forgot to get furniture polish for the house.”
“Oh,” Ororo gave a confused nod that told him clearly. ‘I don’t think so buster.’
“Yeah,” he decided to run with his lie. “Jubes has been after me for days to get them. She’s gonna nag my brains out fer this.”

“Oh.” This time he did get a smile with the nod. Maybe using Jubilee added weight to his excuse and convinced her. Well, whatever worked was fine with him. Hadn’t she heard him ‘talk’ to someone for being late, this very afternoon. “There is a furniture shop near….”
“Let’s not worry about that,” he cut her off by force of habit. Cursing himself, he grabbed to placate the situation. “I mean, I know a place for getting these kinds of things. Thank you for your concern.”

“What’s the matter?” he scowled at the sudden giggle from her. “Did I say somethin’ funny?”
“No,” she shook her head, stifling the involuntary snickers. “Its just that….as many times as we have met, I have never heard you talk in such a controlled manner.”
“Ya mean refined, like you,” his brow creased slightly. Although she had said it with no sarcasm, her words had reminded him how different they were….and even though he never cared for what people thought of him, coming from her…he didn’t like that.

Just looking at her and her house, made their profound social and cultural perfectly clear. It was not that his own place was dirty or anything. It was different. While his house had a Japanese touch to it, set loving by Mariko and him, her house had the whole ‘city’…umm, yeah, cosmopolitan feel to it. ‘Different worlds Bub, different worlds,’ sounded the mental chant.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Ororo realized the way her words must have sounded to him, his expression leaving in doubt in that regard. “I meant to say that, you are very….very free,” she struggled to find the correct words.
“Ya mean free like the side of the road free,” his walls were coming up. It was an involuntary action for him, just like breathing. Years of living in the orphanage and the road after that, had made sure of that.
“No, no,” Ororo reached forward and lightly grabbed his forearm, as if to stop him from blowing up and out of control. “I meant free as nature.”
“Hn.”

“I am sorry that I can across as condescending…” Ororo’s apology sounded truthful and sincere to him. “….That wasn’t my intention.”
Instead of saying anything that might mix up matters even more, Logan merely gestured towards the glass door. “Patio.”

Giving a tentative smile, Ororo let go of him and walked to the door. ‘Way to go Ms. Monroe,’ she cursed herself. ‘Real glib. Why didn’t you just give him a bucket and a washcloth and ask him to clean your car? That would surely have gotten the same message across.’

-----

“Would you like some tea…or coffee?” Ororo started with the usual offering, trailing off at the end at thinking that he would not like either of the two. He didn’t look like the kind of person to be drinking either. ‘Beer, I don’t have,’ she mused, remembering the first time she had seen him….well, not actually face to face, but on his bike. Even though the helmet hid the rider’s face, she was sure that it had been him.

“What kinda tea?” Logan looked up from the lawn chair he had just sat on.
“Tea?” Ororo was taken back for an instant. She would have guessed coffee…maybe, but tea. That was a rarity. Even in her friend….her, social circle, she only knew a couple of people who preferred the leaves over the beans, her father being one of them. But hey, he was British and had a long history with tea. “Indian, herbal,” she offered. “Or if you would like, I have lemon tea too.”
“Lemon,” Logan answered promptly.

“Lemon it is.” With a smile, Ororo walked back into the house, happy with making her offer. It had helped break through the ice that had set over after her comment a few minutes ago.

-----

The rest of the evening went along pretty easily, with both Ororo and Logan opening up to each other, the main topic of the meeting soon forgotten. It started with her commenting that how rare it was to have someone to drink tea with, and by the time either of them checked the time, more than an hour had passed.

“Shit,” Logan exclaimed even before he knew he was saying it. “Uhn-sorry about that,” he apologized instantly. “I didn’t mean to say that,” he lied again…sort of. He meant to say that, just not in front of her….well, not yet anyway.
“Its alright,” Ororo put forth a lie of her own, albeit a slightly different one. It was true that she wasn’t used to hearing expressions….expletives like this. She reprimanded her students almost daily for this. However, Logan wasn’t her student, nor was he like anyone she knew. “Did you have another appointment?” She asked even before she could stop herself. Even if she were to deny it, a part of her hoped that he wouldn’t.

“Nah, its not that,” he answered to try to put her at ease. “Its just that, its Saturday and on Saturday’s we get together at Marie’s diner for dinner. I was supposed to pick up Jubes and Kiko….Amiko, on the way there.”

“Sorry for making you late,” Ororo apologized a little half-heartedly. The past hour had been the highlight of her day. In fact, it had been the highlight of the whole week. With all the schoolwork and getting the new tuition going properly, she did not have much time left for herself.
“You didn’t make me late,” Logan flipped the apology away with a wave of his hand. “Just thought I’d get home a little early. Now will be cutting it close, that’s about it.”

“You should be going then,” Ororo commented standing up. ‘Oh, back to the idiot box.’ At least Sunday would be better. If Charles and Moira did not come over, she might just visit them. “You wouldn’t want to be late.”

---

“Ya wanna come?” Logan bit his tongue at his candor. ‘There ya go again. Opening yer trap without thinkin’.’

“Thank you for the offer, but I must decline regretfully,” Ororo smiled serenely. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“Who said anything about intruding?” Logan gave her a somewhat oblique look, almost as if she had insulted him. “But I understand. Ya must be havin’ some other plans. Plans better than going to an old rundown diner, with people…..”
“Its not that,” Ororo cut him off before he could go any further. From what she had seen and heard from the *rough around the edges* man standing before her, she knew that his world was very different from the one in which she lived and worked, a fact that had not gone unnoticed by him. “You said all your family and friends and get together, I would only disturb the status quo.”

“Disturb what?” He was really getting confused and more than a little ticked off now. If she didn’t wanna come, just come out and say it. Why make all the excuses.
“I mean I will be the fifth wheel,” Ororo stated clearly.
“So what.” Logan grinned at her answer. This he could handle….easily. “We’ll put ya in the boot.” The words had barely left his mouth that he slapped his head. “I didn’t mean put ya in the boot, I meant ya as the fifth wheel. Put that in tha…”

“Logan, Logan.” Ororo calmed him down. For a second there she did not get what he was talking about, but when she did, she could not contain her giggles. “I understand what you implied, I mean what you meant.”

----

“So wanna come?” The second and final offer came out easily. “Unless yer busy?”
“I am not busy,” Ororo clarified. If nothing else, it would be an outing for her. Anyways, even if Logan tried anything funny, which, she was pretty sure he would not, she always had her trusty mace and Tazer handy. “Are you sure?”
“Wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t,” his words were equally clear and convincing.
“Hmm, okay. Just give me ten minutes,” she snapped her fingers. “I just need to change.”

‘Why change?’ he thought as he watched her go into the house. ‘Ya look fine the way ya are.’

----

Fifteen minutes later, Logan’s jeep pulled out of the driveway, with Ororo in the passenger seat. She had changed from her ankle length dress and blouse, into something more appropriate, namely navy blue jeans and a plain white shirt.

Logan had trouble keeping his jaw from hitting the ground, along with the rest of him. The jeans Ororo had had on were hugging her curves like a second skin. The shirt she had on wasn’t helping either. Buttoned all the way up, except for the top two buttons and tied at the bottom, it perfectly curved around and accentuated her full rounded breasts. She had even braided her waist length hair, bringing out her well-formed cheekbones.

“I can drop ya off on the way back.” Logan said to her as she stepped towards her car. He made a difficult mental note of not to drink that night. Not for his sake, but more for hers. Usually Saturday nights were drinking nights, with Kurt driving him and the kids back. He cared too much for them to even attempt to drive back with alcohol in his system. Tonight, he had made a promise to get her home and he meant to keep it. ‘I got two words for you Bub….just two,’ he reminded himself. ‘NO BOOZE….not even a beer.’

------

Sometime later,

“Hey Kiko,” Jubilee yelled out as she rushed out of her room at the sound of the car horn sounding in the driveway. “He’s here.”

“Coming.” The younger sister called back. “Gimmie a minute.’
“Well hurry up,” Jubilee retorted. Grabbing the house keys from the wall, she unlocked the door and stepped out, all the while speaking at the top of her voice. “Stop with the studying already. It’s almost eight thirty and we are late. I am going to….Oh SHIT.”

“What happened?” Amiko inquired as she rushed out of the door, and headlong into a petrified Jubilee. “Hey, move out of the way. You were the one who was complaining that dad was….”
“Shut up,” Jubilee grunted under her breath, her eyes still stuck at the Jeep and its occupants, or rather one occupant in particular.

--

“Hello Jubilee, Amiko.”

Amiko’s head snapped at the familiar voice, turning from scowling at her sister towards the direction it came from.

“Ms. Monroe,” she blurted out.
“Good evening, both of you.” Ororo smiled at the two dumbstruck girls. However, the way both of the girls were staring at her, she felt as if she were a medical specimen and they were studying her under a dual lens microscope….both of them at once.

“Good…..evening.” Jubilee nodded slowly, before recovering from the shock to regain her mischievous grin, the one that never foretold anything good.
“Good evening,” Amiko repeated, giving a slight nod too.

“You both gonna just stand there like statues, waitin’ fer the birds to come ta ya, or wanna get this show on the road,” Logan interjected impatiently. “The others must be waitin’. Marie is going to be on our case if we get late.”

“Ok, ok, coming. There is no need to get all hyper,” Jubilee raised her hand to gesture at him to calm down. Retrieving the keys that had fallen down to the ground, she turned around to set the security alarm and lock the front door.

-----

After a short fifteen-minute drive, the group reached their destination.

Unlike their drive from her house to his, which had been quite easy, the ride to the diner was strained with tension. Neither Jubilee nor Amiko had said a single word the whole way, only answering the couple of questions Ororo asked of each of them. Sensing their unease and awkwardness at having their ‘teacher’ coming to their house and to their family gathering she wisely restrained from any talk with either any of them or Logan.

“We park here,” Logan finally stated as he pulled in through the open gate of his workshop-cum-secondhand car sales place. “This is where all of us work,” he offered as an explanation. “You already met Remy. There are two more – Kurt and Pete. They’ll be there; he jerked over his shoulder towards the diner across the road.”

“Amiko told me about them,” Ororo replied with a smile, hoping that it would help relax the girls or at least one of them….and it worked, because the next moment the young girl piped up.
“Yes, I did.” Amiko informed her father that she had already enlightened the teacher about their little family of misfits.

“Good fer you,” was all Logan said as he pulled the car into its usual parking space.

----

“Logan sugah, why are yah late?” Marie burst through the door even before they reached it. “What happened did…..who’s that?” she changed her question, her eyes widening at the tall silver haired woman walking beside Logan.

“Uhn-this is Ms. Monroe,” Logan answered lamely, choosing the easiest introduction. “She’s the kids….oh, yeah, she teaches English in their school.”
“….and History,” Ororo supplied evenly. “You must be Marie,” she walked up and raised a hand towards the southerner.

“Uhn-huhn,” Marie nodded her head as she gingerly took the newcomer’s hand. Why was she here? None of them ever brought an outsider to their Saturday night shindigs. That night was just for them. Just her and her family. It had started during her mother’s time and had carried to the present day, and never had any of them brought in an outsider.

“I asked her ta come,” Logan answered her silent question. “Thought both of ya might like each other.”
His excuse was so lame that even young Amiko turned and stared up at him, as if to say, ‘Ya sure, ya dumb canuckelhead? Ya sure that she and Marie might like each other, or is it that ya yerself like her?’

“Sure,” Marie recovered instantly, opting to give Logan’s guest the benefit of the doubt. “Come on in Ms. Monroe,” she said awkwardly.
“Thank you,” the taller woman smiled graciously. “And please…..call me Ororo. Ms. Monroe makes me feel like I am still at school.”
“Ororo,” Marie repeated a couple of times. “Come on in Ororo, and ya’ll too. Get in, my potatoes are going to get all crispy and burnt.”

The initial tension let out, the five of them entered the quaint diner.

----

The rest of the introductions were similar to the one she had with Marie, except for Remy whom she had already met earlier in the day.

Soon she was standing in the diner’s kitchen with Marie who was busy putting the finishing touches to her roast.

Even though there was an age difference of almost six years between the both of them, Ororo found that the girl was mature for her age. Whether, her strong emotions were because of her age or was just the way she was, was something Ororo couldn’t make her mind about. Even then, she marveled at Marie’s ability to run a diner all on her won, even though she said that she wasn’t alone like that. Logan and the others helped her out. Having a brother, who, as Ororo came to know had been separated for almost a decade and a half, was helpful too. On Kurt’s day off from the workshop, he used to help by completing any repairs that needed to be made and accompanying Marie to the market to restock the diner.

As for Marie, she liked the ‘newcomer’ as she had termed Ororo now….going one step up from outsider. Even though she came across as snooty at first, she wasn’t like that. Marie found herself opening up in a way with Ororo, that she had missed ever since Mariko had gone away…..almost in a big sister kind of way.

“Its nahice that Logan asked ya t’ come,” she drawled as she flashed a smile at Ororo. “Gives me someone t’ talk too.”
“I too am glad that I came,” Ororo truthfully returned her complement. It was very different from the stifled atmosphere at the country club. It was liberating….almost in a ‘home’ kind of way, but more rustic and down to earth in its feel. It made her remember when Scott used come over with his parents and they used to have a lunch together. Sometimes they used to even make like a picnic, just like it was here Marie, Logan and the others, even though it was at night and instead of being outdoors, it was in a diner.

“All done,” Marie loud clap drew her attention away from her inner musings. “Hey guys,” the call sounded out from the kitchen. “Get youh butts offa th’ wood and come get dinner.”
“Be there in a minute,” Logan replied as Jubilee and Amiko came through the door to help her in setting the dinner.

-----

Much later,

“Thank you Logan,” Ororo turned around at her door.
“Thank you?” he arched an eyebrow. “Fer what?”
“For tonight,” she clarified softly. “I had a great time. I don’t remember enjoying myself so much in ages.”
“No big deal,” he answered hastily. “Ya can get it next Saturday again. That is if ya want to?” He ended hesitantly. Marie had invited Ororo to come back the next weekend, even if Logan didn’t come to pick her up…which he wanted to. He had liked the Nubian beauty’s company and found himself wishing more for it.


”I-I can’t say for sure,” Ororo’s reply was equally hesitant. “I won’t be here next weekend. I may have to go out of town.”
“Oh,” the light in his eyes dimmed a little. “So no class for Amiko next Saturday?”
“No,” Ororo was regretting her reply already. She could just have accepted it and made an excuse later….not that she wanted to. It was true that she had to go out of town, but she could easily do that on Sunday. “But if I return in time, I’ll let you know. How does that sound?”

“Sounds great,” the grin was back. “Till next Saturday then, huhn.”

“Yes. Until next Saturday.”

09. Parent-Teacher Meeting

For Logan and Ororo, the next week began pretty much the same way as the last one had, except for one thing….the feeling, the memory of the time they had shared together with each other. Even though, it would be two days before they would see each other again, the thoughts of the other were strong and in the forefront of their minds.

Their next meeting happened with Logan coming to pick Amiko after her tuition class. Dressed in his work clothes, with grease stains all over his grey overalls, he looked very much out of place among the plush, well kempt surroundings of Xavier’s.

----

Ororo was middle of a sentence when a knock at the door drew her attention.

“Yes Mr. Peters?” She looked up at the aging security guard. Samuel Peters was currently, the oldest and longest worked employees of Xavier’s, that is, except for Professor Charles Xavier himself. Starting when the school was just limited to sixth grade, he had seen it grow and prosper right before his eyes. Now in the twilight of his career, he was incredibly thankful to his good luck that he gave up on the then higher paying mall security guard job in favor of the lesser paying school one. With both of his sons settled and his youngest, the star if his eyes, his daughter in university herself, he was looking forward to his retirement with both anticipation and dejection. While on one hand he was happy than he would get to spend more time with his family, especially his newborn twin grandchildren, he was sad that he would have to give up on a large part of his life….his work at the school. His wizened eyes had seen thousands of students walk along these corridors, and even if he might not remember all their faces, let alone their names, a part of him did feel proud and content at the small contribution he had made towards their future.

“That man is back again,” Sam nodded towards the front of the school.
“The same man?” It took Ororo a second to catch up on what Sam was implying. However, as soon as she got it, her confusion vanished, giving way to an expectant smile. “Oh. Please show him in.”
“You sure Miss?” The older man asked in confirmation. He had seen the stranger and truth be told, he would rather call the police than allow him in the school building…and that too near a solitary teacher and student.

“Yes Mr. Peters,” Ororo nodded once again. “He is here to pick up his daughter,” she gestured towards the studying Amiko. “Please show him in.” Although, according to the time, Logan was nearly half an hour before the stipulated time, she did not mention it to the guard…nor did she mind it herself.

----

Minutes later, a silent figure slinked in through the back door if the classroom, with only a smile passing as a greeting between the two adults.

Logan knew that he was early….and he had done that deliberately. Even though he was not ready to admit to even himself, forget the others, he wanted to meet the intriguing Ms. Monroe again, and maybe get to know her a little better. She was the first woman after Mariko towards whom he had felt this way. The reason why he had waited this long to make this move was not because of any feeling of social courtesy or waiting period he felt. It was more to do with his feeling that by doing this, he was somehow betraying Mariko’s memory….his love for her.

He knew that Mariko wanted him to be happy and would not mind him…would want him to be with someone who gave him that happiness…that love. He knew that because, during the last days, with her life force rapidly slipping away, Mariko, the first woman he had ever been in love with, made him promise her that if he met someone that he liked, he would not give up on that, just because he felt that it would be dishonorable to her.

Even though he had been reluctant with his promise, Logan never thought that a time would come when he would actually have to think about it. Content with his work and his children, he felt no need for any company outside his small circle of misfits…until now.

He did know what or where his efforts would lead him with Ororo…he just knew that he wanted them to lead them to something positive….hence his visit.

----

Sometime later,

“Hey Dad.” Amiko turned around to put her books back into her bag and caught sight of her father sitting a few rows behind her.

“Done?” Logan rhetorical question was both for Amiko as well as for her English teacher.

“Yup,” while Amiko answered with a toothy grin, Ororo merely nod of confirmation, accompanied by a slight curving of her lips…their eyes catching and holding each other. Dressed in a sky blue shirt, cream-colored pants and matching coat, her hair tied into a bun, Ororo looked less like a schoolteacher and more like a business executive.

“Ready to go,” Amiko’s disclaimer broke through their silent conversation, causing them to break their gaze.

“’k,” Logan grunted, scratched the back of his head for a couple of seconds, looking for an excuse to delay their leaving….and came up with a really dumb one. Fishing out the keys to his jeep, he held it out to his daughter. “You go ahead. I gotta something I….just go.” He stopped himself before he gave an explanation that would warrant at least a dozen others.

Wanting to get out as soon as she could, Amiko grabbed the keys, left her bag for Logan and sprinted out through the door and down the corridor.

As they heard the echo of Amiko’s retreating feet, the couple turned to each other.

Just as he was about to say what he had been repeating over in his mind for the last half an hour, Logan stopped short at a new entrant into the room, with the word ‘asshole,’ cropping up in his thoughts, his smile turning over on its axis.

---

“Hey Ororo, do….” Scott Summers halted at the sight of the other man already in the room with his colleague and friend. Already having developed an image about Mr. Howlett, Logan’s dirt an grease spattered garb only served to embellish that image…the one about him being a redneck biker, who might even be abusing his own children.

“What are you doing here?” Ororo winced at the accusation in her friend’s voice. Even before she caught sight of or heard Scott, she had noticed the sudden change in Logan’s body language, and although initially surprised by it, the reason by the sudden change was clear to her now.

“Scott, Lo…Mr. Howlett…” she limited herself to using Logan’s formal name. “….is here to pick up his daughter. We were just about to leave. You wanted something?” She asked, hoping that Scott would take the hint and leave them alone.

Alas, that wasn’t what was on Scott’s mind right now. Even though, his ears caught what Ororo said, his mind did not comprehend it. All his attention was focused on the man standing a few feet away from him…his fists balled up as if he were about to attack him, or worse….Ororo.

“Huh,” some of the words did manage to trickle in into his consciousness. “You said something?”

“Mr. Howlett is just here to pick up his daughter,” Ororo repeated again. “And discuss about her progress.” She lied, not knowing why she did that. Maybe it was just to diffuse the situation, or maybe she just wanted Scott to leave.

“Is that so?” Scott turned to Logan, suspicious-disbelief clear in his eyes.

Instead of contradicting Ororo, Logan ran with it, barely containing himself from lashing out and beating that smug condescending tone out of the four-eyed dickhead. “You got a problem with that?”

“No…” Scott reeled back from the verbal punch. “No, of course I do not have a problem with that. I am just surprised…”

“Thank you Mr. Summers,” Ororo cut in before Scott had a chance to complete his sentence. “I’ll see you later.” That was a barely concealing spelling out for Scott to get his butt out of the room.

His eyes never leaving Logan, Scott just nodded in an answer and slowly turned towards the door.

“I’ll be in my office,” and he was gone.

----

“Sorry about that?’ Ororo apologized for Scott’s intrusion. Just thirty seconds with the two would make it clear that Logan and Scott weren’t big fans of each other...and she, she already knew the reason behind it, putting her in an even more troubling situation.

“‘s ok,” Logan nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. “You wanna…” he gestured towards the door. “I mean, you busy with….”
“Oh, no,” Ororo denied it with a raise of a hand. Whatever Scott wanted could wait. ‘Probably just wants to know when I am leaving.’ “Don’t worry about it.”
“You sure?” Logan didn’t seem convinced. ‘Just don’t have anything going on with dickhead,’ he pleaded silently. “You two…”

Catching onto his implication, Ororo burst into a laugh at his unspoken words.

“Scott is not my boyfriend. He’s just a colleague.”
“Uhn-huhn,” still some of the doubt remained.
“Yes.”

Stepping towards her desk, she carried on. “He’s most probably on the phone with his fiancée right now. You remember Jean, right?”
“Fiancée?” Logan squeaked.
“Yes,” Ororo nodded her head. “Remember Doctor Grey. She and Scott, they are engaged to be married. The three of us were supposed to go over some details of the marriage ceremony. Probably came to ask me about that.”

“The redhead friend of yers,” deep hazel eyes lit up in realization.
“Yes, that one. She is his fiancée.”
“’k. You must want to go now.” Logan apologized, his curses once again returning to Scott. Fucker couldn’t have given them ten minutes more.
“Yes,” Ororo nodded. “But I can wait until Jean comes in from the hospital.”
“Oh…hmmm.”

---

“Logan….” Ororo broke into the companionable silence between them as they walked down the corridor towards the front door of the school.
“Hmm,” Logan tilted his head towards her. Well, if nothing else, the least he got out from his impromptu appearance was fifteen minutes of her time. Hopefully, that would…

“I just wanted to let you know that’ll be free this Saturday evening.”

…pan out into something better.

“Huh,” it took for a second for the words to hit home. “Really,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “I mean you sure? What about yer trip out of the city.”
“That,” Ororo answered as a smile started to curve the corners of her lips. “Its going to be on Sunday.”

At the silence, she asked again.

“So?”
“So?”
“Is the invitation still on,” her voice held a hesitant hope.
“It is if you wanna,” Logan voiced his own doubts. “I mean we ain’t like yer….” He jerked his head towards the direction of Scott’s office.
“Yes, I am sure.” Ororo passed on the second comment. “So, am I still invited?”
“You gotta ask?” The familiar lop sided grin was back.
“Yes….No…Good.”

----

“What time do you want me to reach the diner?” That question got a ‘hmph’ in response.
“I’ll pick ya up,” Logan’s firm answer did not leave any room for argument. “I have to come fer Amiko’s weekly report. We do it like time. Unless you wanna…”
“I…” Ororo hesitated again. “I wouldn’t want to impose on you…
“No hassle,” Logan fielded that question mid-sentence. “Its on the way,” his lie was clear to both. They both knew that for coming to her house, then going back to his and then to the diner…not to mention the return trip, would work out, if not more, at least double of what his usual drive would be.

“Okay” Ororo finally gave in. “What time?”
“Six thirty?’
“Make it six,” she amended it. “We wouldn’t want to be late again.”
“Sure,” both of them recalled Jubilee and Marie’s outbursts from the last time. “Six PM it is.”

Any further conversation ended as Jean’s Accord pulled into the school parking lot.

“Jean is here,” Ororo started towards the school front desk to contact Scott on the intercom….mostly as a formality, as she was sure that Jean would have already called, or was even now talking to Scott.
“Uh,” slightly disappointed and equally annoyed at the redhead’s and before that her pansy-fiancé’s intrusion, Logan nevertheless decided to take his leave. “See you on Saturday then?”
“On Saturday….Six PM.” Even though she hadn’t pressed the access number to Scott’s office, Ororo instinctively covered the mouth piece of the phone. “Good bye Logan.”

“Bye,” a two-finger salute and he was gone.

-----

Unnoticed by them, ever since they had stepped out of the school doors, Scott Summers had been observing them like a hawk. There was something about Mr. Howlett that unnerved him. Maybe it was the way he looked, dressed and talked. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, as he owned the place he entered. Maybe it was the fact that he had not one but two girls under his care, one of them a teenager, the other one just on the cusp of it.

‘And what is the deal with the name Logan?’ he frowned at the thought. He remembered reading Amiko and Jubilee’s student files. There is was no mention of *Logan* in their father’s name, first or middle.

What set off his alarms even further, was the way Logan had been talking to the regal Ororo.

‘Familiar,’ he mused. ‘Too familiar.’ And Ororo, usually one to stay controlled and to-the-point with strangers, especially the parents of the students, was talking to him as if they were friends and not just passing acquaintances.

The start of a Jeep interrupted his line of thought as Logan pulled away from the school.

‘Is there….’ He squashed the thought even before it began. ‘Not Ororo. No way. Don’t even think about it.’

‘But still…what if?’

----

Elsewhere,

“Are you sure it’s him?”
“Yeah, I am sure. I checked the records. He lived in Calgary, at the Our Saints House for Children orphanage for almost seven years. Before that he was in a couple of other places, but there are no records of that.

“That means he is still alive?”
“Yes Ma’am.”

“Good….find him.”
“Ma’am?”

“I said find him….as soon as possible. We just cannot leave him out there.”
“Yes ma’am.”

“God, nearly three decades. What are the odds on that?”


TBC…

10. Lotsa Talking

Summary: A question, an answer and then…a second answer.

---

This time around, both the girls, Jubilee and Amiko, and the others at Marie’s diner didn’t even so much as bat an eye on seeing Ororo amongst them. True the girls had a couple of awkward moments, especially when, going with the flow, Jubilee called out her teacher by her first name than the usual (and formal) Ms. Monroe.

Thankfully, for her, Ororo let that outburst slide, all without even missing a beat.

For Logan, though not dressed in his Sunday best, he did look quite dashing with a nice, relatively new and freshly washed jean. With a white skin tight T-shirt and white cotton shirt on the top, the only that remained was the shoes and a pair of dark brown boots took care of that…and completed the ensemble.

Though none of the others noticed, as the evening started to draw to an end, instead of relaxing, Logan seemed to grow tense…almost like an archer’s bow growing taut, getting ready to shoot the arrow, one that he hoped would find its mark.

--

“Ororo.” Dropping of the girls at home, he had driven Ororo back to her house and just about to depart for the evening when, finally gathering the minimum required courage, he made his move.

“Yes Logan.” Ororo returned, a little surprised at seeing him not only still there but also at the nervousness flash on his face.

“I-I wanted to tell ya somethin’…I mean ask, yeah, I wanted to ask you a question.” He deliberately paid attention to not only what he was saying but also how he was saying it.
“Yes Logan.” Ororo repeated her earlier answer.

“Would you like to, I mean you an’ me,” ‘Fuck this is difficult.’ Never ever having asked a girl or a woman for that matter out, Logan ‘The Archer’ found himself literally shooting in the dark. “You wanta go out sometime?” He finally blurted out, hoping that she would get the signal.

“Go out?” ‘YES! She did.’ You mean next Saturday?” ‘No, she did not.’

“Yes-No. Not like that.” Taking a deep breath, both for his benefit and for that of the ‘pansy boy’ that had suddenly piped up within him, Logan tried again. “Ya will be coming next Saturday. That is fine. What I meant was some other day and place…just you…an’…me.” He nearly trailed off at the sudden tensing up of the woman in front of him, her reaction pretty much giving away her answer before she did.

“You…and…me.” Ororo seemed to parrot his words. “Just the two of us?”
“Yeah.” He gave a hesitant nod.

“Logan…” This she had not expected or hoped for…well, at least not consciously…okay, not so soon. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Uh-yeah.” Logan did not trust himself to anything else.

“No.”

--

Either he did not hear it or maybe it took him a couple of seconds to comprehend it, but when it finally got through to him, “No,” Logan’s hesitant smile fell right off his face. He had expected this answer, after all, just take a look at him and then feast your eyes at the beauty that was this…this…lady.

‘There was simply no way that she would even agree to go out with someone like you,’ the Wolverine, the cage fighter, chuckled at the fallen face of the boy who for the first time in his life had actually dared to ask someone out for a date.

Logan might not have expected a ‘yes’ answer, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t hoped for it.

“Uhn….” He searched around for the correct response to her reply. ‘Ok,’ would have been the civil answer, but being snubbed, Logan’s gave a kick in the ass to the pansy and turned to his inner Wolverine.

“Why?”

“Logan…” Ororo had a sudden urge to flee to the safe confines of her home, after all it wasn’t all that far away and not matter if Logan did not like her answer, she was pretty sure that he wouldn’t pursue and manhandle her. “I am sorry, but I…we…”

“Nah, its ok,” seeing her fumble like this, Logan dialed down on his outburst. “Ya don’t haveta be sorry about anythin’. I shoulda…”

Sensing the direction he was heading in, Ororo decided to cut him off. “No, its not what you think,” she grabbed at the first thing that came to her mind. “I don’t date at work.”
“But, we don’t work with each other,” Logan argued, the burn from her turning him down still fresh under his skin.
“I know,” Ororo smiled at him, her smile stinging both of them. “However, I am Amiko’s tutor and ….”
“Yeah,” Logan cut her off with a confused nod, still not getting the point she was trying to state.

“I don’t want to disturb that set up.” It was a lie, one than wouldn’t work on anyone older than eight, let alone on grown man like Logan.
“Oh,” realization dawned on Logan’s face. “Ya mean, ya teach Amiko English and cause of that ya can’t go out with me.”
“Yes,” Ororo nodded, her eyes not meeting his.

“Ok,” Logan gave an understanding nod. Just about to say something he was trumped when Ororo shot off her own salvo.

“I hope this doesn’t change anything with Amiko,” Ororo’s brow furrowed. “Are you going to…?”
“I ain’t takin’ the kid away from anythin’ that is helping her so much,” Logan stated clearly. “Her and Jubilee’s life and future is more important than mine. I shoulda realized that before opening my yap.”

“Uhn,” Ororo didn’t know what to say. She had been the one who had told Logan that with Amiko’s progress, she would soon be able to learn and perform on her own. That would mean that they wouldn’t be working together anymore. Then again, was it really the same as going out with Logan as it would be with someone who she actually worked with?


Lost in her thoughts, Ororo almost missed Logan’s soft words. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean ta say that. I….”
“Its alright Logan,” Ororo’s smile calmed him. “I didn’t mind it.”

“Its not that,” Logan wanted it to be clear that what he was apologizing about. “It wasn’t about asking you out. I ain’t sorry about that. Heck, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I shoulda thought over it better. Didn’t want to put you in a position…”

Sensing yet another change in Ororo’s body language, he decided to shut his yapper. It seemed that his efforts to clear up things weren’t have the desired effect. Instead of setting Ororo at ease, they were only working to tense her even more. “Uhn, I guess, I needta go now.”


Stepping away and ready to turn away to head to his Jeep, Logan’s steps halted at Ororo’s barely audible hail.

“Logan…”
“Yeah.”

“I…I’d like some time to think about it.”
“Huh?!” What’d she mean by that.

“Your offer,” Ororo lifted her head, her eyes directly meeting his. “I’d like some time to think about it.”
“Think about it?” Still no luck , especially not with the Wolverine on the prowl.

“I’d like to think about…possibly changing my answer.”
“Oh!!”

CLANG CLANG CLANG

And that went the bells and both the Wolverine and the boy fell flat on the ground, one on his back while the other on the face.

“Logan?” One glance at the stupefied look on Logan’s face and Ororo mistook it for…well, she did not know how quite to take it.

“Uh-‘k. How long?”

“I don’t…” ‘Okay, how long?’ Ororo’s inner teen, one that she had hoped she had laid to rest years ago, chose that very moment to leap up…complete with a set of pom-poms. “Two-Thr-Two days.”

“Two?”

“Uh-huh.” ‘One two, check your shoe.’ Okay that was just too lame of a cheer.

“’kay. Wanna me to call…” Not at all conversant with modern dating etiquette, Logan, within the last ten minutes had gone from hopefully-nervous to angry-confused to what he was now…totally whacked out.

“NoNo….I’ll call you.”

“Uh-‘kay.”

Continuing to stand in their respective positions, it took both of the adults a few seconds to realize that they were dumbly staring at each other.

“Uh…”

“I-I should…” Logan gestured over his shoulder, hoping to say that he should leave. “I mean…”

“Yes.” Taking a step back herself, Ororo stepped up on her porch, her body betraying her order to turn away and reach for the doorknob. “Goodnight Logan.”

“Goodnight Ororo.”

---

In the end it did not take Ororo the ‘allotted’ two days to make a choice…it took just one night of tossing and turning, a conversation with a friend…and a few more hours of staring into empty space,

---

“Ororo. Ororo?!” The slightly accented female voice shook Ororo from her contemplative thoughts.

“Huhn?” More than a little flustered, Ororo turned towards the direction of the voice, automatically checking for drool-age. “Did you say something Cecelia?”
“Nah.” Seated across from her, Dr. Cecelia Reyes-McCoy shook her head, causing a couple of her ebony hued braids to slip over her shoulder “You just seen preoccupied today. Everything okay?”
“Yes, of course,” even to her own ears, Ororo’s answer sounded unconvincing.
“Hmm. If you say so,” Cecelia answered as if letting the matter go. “You can talk to me if there’s something bothering you. After all, I am here for the faculty too, and not just for the students.”
“I know,” smiling at her counselor colleague Ororo gently squeezed her hand. “Thank you for your offer.”
“Well, I am here for some time and seein’ that you are also free for the next hour,” Cecelia offered, “why not take me up on my offer.”

“Cecelia, I…” Ororo began, only to stop. She remained silent for a couple of minutes, with Cecelia patiently waited for her to gather her thoughts and form her words.

“How did you…” this time around, although hesitant and soft, Ororo’s voice held a purpose. “How long have you and Henry been married?”
“Hmm,” a couple of mental calculations and, “Three years, three days after a month from now.”

“How long did you know each other, I mean how long before the both of you tied the knot?”
“About seven months after we went out for the first time.”

“And your first….” Seeing Cecelia’s arched eyebrow Ororo stopped herself. This was supposed to be about her and her dating life, not Cecelia and Henry’s. “What I mean…How did you know that Henry was the one?”
“The one? What one?” Musing aloud, a smile dawned on Cecelia’s face. “Oh, the one. That ‘The One’.” She accentuated with quotes.

“Yes.” Ororo gave a slight nod, feeling rather stupid and teeny at using terms as ‘The One’. Couldn’t she have come up with an even more clichéd term. How about going even one better? How about ‘The One and Only’. Sheesh.

“Can’t say,” shrugged her counselor-cum-shrink colleague. “I’m not too sure. Just knew. We worked together, moved around the same circle, had common interests, similar lives. And moreover when we tried it, found out had even more things in common…things that really count. Guess that all worked together to get us to fall in love with each other.”
“Oh,” Ororo’s sigh conveyed her dismay at the answer. “What if….what if you didn’t have those things?”
“Things?”

“Yes,” the confused younger woman elaborated. “What if, he wasn’t anything like that? I mean he was still the way he is, but without all the common factors you stated. What if he was complete opposite of that? What if he did not work here, have the same friends, same background or upbringing as you. Would you still have dated him…let alone chosen to spend your whole life with him?”

“If he had been all that different, “Cecelia smiled as she twirled her wedding ring. “I would have met him in the first place, would I?”
“What if you did? Somehow. Somewhere. What if you met him?” Ororo stressed her question. “Can you say that you would agreed to…uh, forget about love and marriage and all else, would you have agreed to go out on a date with him?”

“Ororo, I…,” Cecelia sensed the answer her friend was hoping for and wished that she could give her that answer, but knowing that it might very well not be so.

“I don’t know,” she said finally.

---

That evening,

Ororo had what was easily the United Nations Conference of all introspections going on inside her mind.

‘Go on, call him.’ A voice, one of three different people involved in the conversation, piped up.
‘Its not two days yet,’ a second, older, logical one played devil’s advocate.
‘Make a choice first.’ Reminded the neutral third.

‘He’s sooo dreamy,’ the first one crooned. ‘And so nice too.’
‘You don’t have anything in common.’ The second pointed out. ‘Anything outside of the school and diner, basically work.’
‘I agree,’ for a second the neutral did not look all that neutral. ‘But who knows, maybe if you give it a chance, you could.’

‘Uh,’ at a loss for further supporting arguments, the first voice grabbed at anything that rose up within her radar. ‘You could use the time out. How long has it been since you went out with someone, and by that I mean went out on a date and not shopping with your friends…for their marriage, or at home with Dad.’
‘That doesn’t mean that you have to go out with the first man that asks you out,’ the anti-Yes side argued.
‘It is not.’ The neutral brought up visuals of the last three men who had asked Ororo out and also why she had turned them down.

‘Voting time!’ One cheered. ‘I vote YES.’
‘No.’ Second.

It all came down to the third, who as with her earlier stance, calmly stated. ‘I choose to abstain.’


“Goddess.” Ororo exclaimed out aloud. “Why does it have to be so difficult? Its not like I am even….” Even before she even got half of that sentence out, Ororo stopped, her latest memory flash finally making up her mind for her. “Why not?” She asked to herself. “Its not like I am seeing anyone else, and Logan is a nice person.”

---

Not even a minute later,

“Hello? Logan. This is Ororo….Yes. I’ll go out with you.”

---

Note: Been really long since I updated this and seeing that as I was revising it and changing the plot from the first posting, I decided to change this too. Hope it works out.

With this post, X-Verse and Survival are the only fics that I haven’t updated recently. Will try to remedy that too.

Please Review!!

11. The Elf and the Witch

Summary: Now that that is taken care of, lets get on to the others. (And allowing me to use the leftovers from the previous posts).

---

While Logan prepared…well, while Jubilee and Marie toiled hard to work out the kinks in him, someone else from their family was also finding love.


It wasn’t Remy. He would get his butt kicked six ways from Sunday if he even was caught so much as ‘giving a lane changing signal’, meaning, stepping out on Marie. And it wouldn’t be just her, and not just Logan, but also every single one of the people around them. It was pretty sure that even Jubes and Amiko would get their shots in.

It wasn’t Piotr. Even giving allowance for his ‘small town boy’ shyness, he would rather spend his free time with his friends or painting. And even though he knew that Jubilee’s friend, Kitty liked him, he was cognizant of the age difference between him and the teen. There had been quite a few others who had ‘dropped hints’ for…many of which he only knew about because of Remy’s educated eyes and ears. There was that Sarah who worked the grill on the McDonalds a couple of blocks away. She put on a rough tough ‘bite your head off’ front, one that kept most of the people away from her. But oddly enough, as much as everyone had warned him, Piotr had found to be quite…nice, her exterior coming across as a hard-boned armor than anything else.
It wasn’t even that peroxide haired, Emma. The way she flicked open the top two buttons of her shirt, slipping her hand inside and on her breasts, even cool as cucumber Remy had squeaked, ‘Merde’.

It was the third of Logan’s crew. Kurt.

---

“Kurt. Hey Kurt!” Remy’s hail sounded across the spacious workshop. The day was starting to wind down. Logan had already finished with the Golf he was working on and had gone over to Marie’s. The two of them were going to head out, all to get him a haircut…under special orders from Fashion General Jubilee. And with Pete taking care of an oil change for the aging Beetle that had pulled in just minutes before the workshop gate was closed, it had fallen on Kurt to put everything, all the tools and all, back in their place and to broom the shop-floor the night.

However, rather than being down, Kurt was acting rather…peppy. Zipping about, he was trying his best to finish as fast as he could, all for an appointment he had to keep. And agreed that he still had about fifteen minutes of a head start, he did not want to be late.

After all it was a date, with his new and first real girlfriend…Wanda.

*Real* girlfriend because she wasn’t the first girl he had fallen in love with. There had been another. Amanda.

She was the first one who made his heart beat for the love of a woman, made him stop being a mere boy and be a older…be a man. Yet, for all his aspirations, he had been just a teenager, and it was that cusp between being a child and an adult that had led him to dream big, have great hopes...plans.

In the end it had all been in vain. He lost her to someone bigger, smarter. Someone who was confident, unlike him…someone who was NOT him.

//Flashback//

“Amanda I have something I want to tell you,” A teenaged Kurt Wagner sat on his friend Amanda’s bed, watching her comb her soft rose colored hair.
“Yes Kurt,” replied Amanda preening in front of the mirror. “How do I look?”
“Like an angel,” Kurt replied dreamily.
“Oh, you are just saying that because you are my friend,” Amanda shook her head at him, turning around to put the final changes to her makeup. “ I want to look HOT.”
“Hot? Why would you want to look hot?” Kurt asked with a confused voice. “Are you sick? Do you want your mother to call a doctor?”

“Oh, not that silly,” the redhead chuckled at his apparent naiveté. “Hot means beautiful….sexy.”
“Uhn,” Kurt’s eyes widened at her ‘forward’ language.
“Yes.” Amanda replied with a twinkle in her eyes. “Werner calls me that. He’s taking me out for the graduation party they are having at a friend’s place.”
“Werner,” Kurt’s voice and face fell at the name of the star jock of their high school.

“Do you like him?” he asked softly.
“YES,” the glee in her voice caused his heart to come crashing down to the ground, breaking into a million pieces.
“Do you….” he steeled himself. “Do you love him?”
“I-I…I guess so,” she hesitated for a second. “Not too sure yet, but I am on my way. Why are you asking?”

“Nothing,” the saddened tone in his voice went unnoticed by the girl who had held his heart and chucked it away even looking at it.
“Kurt,” Amanda came and sat next to him and placed a finger painted hand over his thigh. “What is it? You can tell me. We are like family, just like brother and sister.”
“Brother…..sister,” he croaked as he held the tears threatening to come forth in his eyes. “You think of me as a brother.”
“Yeah,” Amanda nodded hesitantly, her gut telling her that she had said something majorly wrong. She had said what she felt that would lift her best friend’s spirits. The pained look on his face told her that her words hadn’t helped. In fact they seemed to have worked to trouble him even further. “Don’t you want that?”

“I-I….yes,” he exhaled dejectedly, pushing himself up from the bed and away from her. “Goodnight Amanda. Have a nice time at the party.”
“Kurt…” Amanda started after him, but stopped at the car horn sounding from the road. “Coming, coming,” she yelled from her window as she grabbed her purse and rushed out through the door, vowing to get back to Kurt and what was troubling him.

//End Flashback//

Two days later, Kurt had left for America to find his sister, carrying a broken heart and broken dreams deep inside him.

---

Back, in the now,

“Ja?” Kurt returned, jerking his head in a query at the smirking Remy coming towards him. “Vat?”
“Dere be someone askin’ fo’ you,” Remy jerked a thumb towards the front gate.
“Asking for me?” Who could it be? Could it be someone from the training course he and Pete were doing to get certified to work in the new place Logan was opening? Or…
“Yeah,” Remy nodded. “This tall,” Remy leveled his hand, just alongside his shoulder. “Dark red hair, whisky smooth voice. Accen’ like yo’rs.”

‘Red hair!’ Kurt’s eyes widened with realization. She’d come here.

Literally shoving the broom into Remy’s hands he sprinted towards the front, thankful that he had had the forethought to change his clothes beforehand.

He was nearly out the door when his Cajun friend called out behind him.

“Da car has a nice body too.”

---

Elsewhere,

Thankfully for Kurt, both Logan and Marie had already departed from the diner and were currently on their way to the barber. Although he had agreed on taming the wild growth of his mane….or at least try to do so, Logan had put the foot down when Jubilee and Marie had started to go over the top, suggesting everything from a hair restyling to eyebrow thinning to, (the worst of all) a full treatment, which would not only lead to him having to lose his mutton chops but also have colored highlights put in his hair, traveling along his natural ‘wolf-ear’ edges.

“A cut’s what I agreed to and that’s all I am gonna get…” he stated in no un-certain terms. “That’s it.”

And that is what they were going to get now, with Marie being the ‘special clause’ that had somehow slipped into their settlement.


“Logan…” Marie tapped her brother’s shoulder.
“Huh?” Logan snapped his head towards her, her gesture and the blaring of the horn from behind them telling him that, lost in his thoughts, he had missed the light turning green. “Uh, sorry. Thanks kid.”

“’s ok.” Getting yet another honk from the over enthusiastic punk behind them, Marie let leaned sideways in her seat, took a deep breath and yelled, “Hey asshole! SIT ON THIS,” her raised middle finger complementing her comment.

“Hmph. Ah needed thaht,” sitting back inside, she blew out a calming breath. “Now yah do yer bit.”
“My bit?” Logan glanced over his shoulder. “You want me to flip him too?”
“Nah, not thaht ya big lummox,” the young woman slapped her hand against her forehead. “Ya tell he whaht’s buggin’ ya.”
“Nothin’ darlin’,” Logan grunted noncommittally. “Nothing at all.
“Nothing huhn,” her arched eyebrow, a look that she had learned from him, told her that she didn’t believe him a bit. “Then why are yah lookin’ as lost as a Remy with a novel?”
“Hmph.”

“Wanna talhk about it?”
“Nah,” he just shook his head. “Nothin’ ta talk about. Just tired I guess.”
“Tired?” Marie knew that he was definitely lying now. Logan never got tired. “Why?”
“Nothin’ ta worry yer pretty little head over,” he tried to smile her query away. “Just thinkin’ about the new place.”
“Oh,” another lie she caught instantly. “Naae.” She knew about the problems they were facing with the new business venture. Remy had told her everything.

“Logan,” her large brown eyes bored into him. “Whaht is it sugah?”

“NO!” That no-more-arguments tone ended that conversation at that.

If only the thought waves that were welling within Logan were settled as easily.

---

Note: Sorry for the short chapter but I almost missed this part. As for the length, the next update is on its way and it’s a long one….almost double this one.

Please Review!!

12. Ready for Launch?

Summary: The way things are, one would think its an expedition to the moon.

---

Friday morning,

The weekend just about here, meaning two days of cleaning, repairing, laundry, grocery and all that household work However, unlike every other week, this time its wasn’t planning out his house chores that was on Logan’s mind, neither was the upcoming opening of his automobile dealership. This week, or more importantly, this day, a very different event…and the special person it involved had all his attention, so much so that he was finding it difficult to concentrate on the job.

Finally, he gave up the charade of trying to look busy, yanked off his work gloves instructing Piotr to take over for him and stomped out the workshop and across the road to the one place that always allowed time and peace of mind to think, Irene’s…or as it was now, Marie’s diner. Just before she passed away, Irene had made the name change, despite Marie’s protests to the contrary.

‘Make the customer feel at home,’ had been her first and foremost rule, and the name change somehow fit in that. “It feels good to have the person whose name is one the front to be working and serving you. Makes it feel that you care.”

A week later, Irene’s Diner became Irene and Marie’s Diner and after Irene’s passing away, just Marie’s Diner or as it was better known as among neighborhood, Rogue’s.


As for Logan, ever since he, Mariko and Amiko came here for the first time, they had not only become regular customers but also friends and ultimately, once they moved in across the road, a part of the family.

And while, after Mariko’s passing away he used to come here to both relive the past and to both stop himself from losing it and giving into the lure of the bottle, this time around he was here for very different yet oddly related reasons. He was here to think about the ramifications of his actions not only on his personal life but also of his kids, his girls. More than anything, even himself, it was Jubilee and Amiko that mattered to him. And even though this…whatever it was with Ororo, this thing, it may or might not work out, he did not know how they felt towards it, or how it would affect them.

Though Jubilee had been more than a little vocal in her efforts and support in getting him to date even if it was Ms. Munroe, Logan couldn’t help but feel a sense of withdrawal from Amiko. She never said anything, the sweet kid, but Logan knew that more than Jubilee who came to them much later, it was Amiko who would be the most….touchy when it came to him and her mother.

Maybe he should have waited some more before allowing himself to do this? Ten years would have been enough…anything to keep his baby girl happy.

----

“Hey Marie,” he called from the door of the diner, the overhead bell tinkling as he pushed open the wire mesh door, his nostrils flaring at the familiar smell of fried bacon and baked potatoes.

“In heah sugah,” Marie’s loud and given the volume slightly high pitched cry sounded from the kitchen, her head appearing for a second before disappearing again. “Come in. Ah’m just’ preparin’ an order.”

A cursory glance around the diner and Logan placed the two occupied tables, also noting the solitary person sitting at the main counter. ‘Pick up,’ he concluded strolling over towards the back of the front counter.

“Ya busy?” He inquired, arching an eyebrow at seeing Marie rushing around like a rooster high on crack. “Need help?”
“Yah an’ yah,” she nodded for both his questions. “Come heah an’ take ovah the fryer an’ this pan.”

Smirking at her straight forward attitude, Logan quietly started assisting her. It still surprised him, especially at times like these, to see someone as young as this belle of the south here running a diner on her own.

“Where’s the Elf?” he asked as he stirred whatever she had cooking in the pan. Looked like some kinda vegetable…horse fodder. “Shouldn’t he be here? Today’s his day off, ain’t it?”
“Hmm-uhm,” Marie nodded a slight frown formed marring her young face. “He said he had t’ go somewhere? Left an hour ago…” she trailed off.
“What is it Marie?” Logan instantly picked up on the worry in her voice. “Somethin’ wrong?”
“Yeah. No. Ah don’t know,” Marie didn’t know what to say. Finally giving up, her part of the order just about done, she sighed and stepped away from the kitchen counter, leaning back on the edge of the island in the center of the large room. “Maybe.”

“Somethin’ to do with Kurt.” It was more of a statement than a question.
“Umm-hmm,” frowning, Marie hung her head to her chest, the momentary silence broken soon enough by the pinging of the fryer.

Empting the contents of the pan into the take-out boxes, Logan jerked his head towards the order hall. “Lets get these punks out of the way, then ya can tell me all about it.”

---


Fifteen minutes later, with the customers enjoying their meal and with no newcomer to keep them busy, Logan and Marie were sitting just inside the kitchen. Well Marie was the one who was sitting on the counter, facing the door just in case anyone came in or tried to leave without paying the bill. However, given the time and that the two outside were regulars, there wasn’t a very much of a chance that they’d be disturbed.

“So kid,” Logan leaned against the wall. “What’d he do?” He was surprised that someone like Kurt had managed to get into some type of trouble, well, not trouble but do something that hurt….okay, troubled Marie. He’s never do anything that stupid. ‘That’s Gumbo’s territory.’

“Nothin’,” the worried expression on the young woman’s face told otherwise, Logan’s arched eyebrow telling her as such. “Umm....Ah think he is goin’ out.”

“Going out?” What was so troubling about that.

“Ah mean seein’ someone…a girl.”
“Huh?!” Okay that was surprising. Kurt had never mentioned it to him, or to Petey or Remy for that matter. Well, at least as far as he knew. He’d have to have a sit down with those two. “Who?” he asked curiously.

“Ah’m not shuah,” came the dejected but slightly annoyed sigh, the annoyance coming up at her brother hiding something from her, something he’d never done ever since they’d found each other.

“Oh…’kay.” ‘That isn’t much to go along with,’ thought Logan. “But maybe…’

“Ah have an ideah. But am not shuah, if it is her.” An idea? Marie, though enjoying gossip, wasn’t one to make wild and unsubstantiated claims. If she said she had an idea, Logan would bet his Jeep that she it was a lot more near to the truth than mere speculation.

“Who?” He questioned, now really interested.

“Wanda.” Marie muttered, remembering the name from the first and only time she had met the girl. “He’d brought her heah to tha diner. Said that her car had broken down and was in the shop. So he brought her ovah to spend the tahme.”

“Wanda?….Wanda….” Logan wracked his head, trying to recall where he had heard the name. ‘Oh fuck, the Audi from last month.’ He inwardly cursed, recalling the invoice that Piotr had handed over to him. That was one freakin’ car of hers. Had all the optional bells and whistles, and then some. Even the engine had been customized. And it wasn’t an aftermarket job, but a right-at-factory one. “Wanda Maximoff!” He exclaimed as the realization hit him.

“You know her?” Marie asked, going past the whole ‘yes she is’ or ‘no its not her’ fillers.

“Yeah I know her,” he blurted out. “I mean, have heard of her. She’s one of the two brats of Eric Lehnsherr. The guy who is always in the news for all the work he does with metals. Got two kids, both of them two steps in front of dad in getting inta the news. Wanda’s one o’ ‘em.”

“Yeah,” Marie looked up at him, her frown deepening as Logan confirmed what she’d already searched and read about this Wanda chick. “Ah don’t lahke it.”
“Why?” Logan asked, the incredulous look on Marie’s face telling him that it had been a rather lame question.

That the ‘social’ difference between Wanda Maximoff and Kurt Wagner was about as glaringly obvious as between him and Ororo, didn’t even come to him.

Too different to been imagined, let alone seen together.


“Do you even have ta ask why?” Marie all but screeched, her loud outburst drawing attention from the outside.

Apart from the severely possessive and madly protective sisterly concern, Marie had had the same thoughts. Its not as if she and Kurt were poor. They did quite well for themselves. The diner was going great and so was Kurt’s job under Logan. But they weren’t as great, as rich as the Maximoffs, who had who knows how many minor and major steel, iron and other metal working facilities all over the country.

She was worried about her brother. Kurt had led a very sheltered life in Germany and didn’t possess the street smarts she had. She was worried that the rich girl was getting her kicks with him, taking advantage of his naïve innocence. He who probably loved her and would get his heart broken when she’d dump him like yesterday’s news once she found someone new, someone bette…

‘No. Not someone better.’ Marie wouldn’t say that, she would never say something like that when it came to Kurt. He had a heart of gold. But even she knew that they…that he wasn’t rich, he didn’t have flashy cars or a big mansion or any of the other things that rich folk had. All he had to his name, was a few thousand in the bank and a ten year old truck, which he’d got for pennies, all thanks to Logan. The truck had been his and when Logan decided to go in for a new one, he’d sold the old one to Kurt.

Logan would have readily given it for free, had it been for Kurt’s firm standing that he would only take if Logan accepted a payment for it.

---

Listening to her voice her worries and opinions, got Logan thinking about his own situations, his wishes, his insecurities. ‘What are ya goin’ ta do?’ he asked himself.

“Did ya say somethin’ t’ me?” Marie looked up, leaning in at the thoughtful look in the older man’s eyes.

“Nah,” as always, his first reaction was to deny it. “Why do ya ask?”

“Ya seem a little off. Is everythin’ faihne?” she asked gently. “Is somethin’….Oh,” she stopped at realizing what day it was. “Its today ain’t it.”

The frown that flashed across Logan’s face didn’t impress her.

“Everythin’s fine,” Logan pushed himself off the wall. “Just peachy. I just came ta see how ya were doin’.”
“Sure yah did,” a corner of her lips twitched in a smirk. “You not goin’ to cancel it, are ya?”
“No.” The way he said that ‘no’ conveyed that he had thought about it, the way he started for the door only making it all the more clear.

Rushing after him, Marie caught his arm and yanked it…hard.


“What else kid?” Logan growled, wanting to get away before she finagled the cause for his uneasiness.

“How’s Ororo?” too late.
“Fine,” he tried to act nonchalant. “Saw her day before yesterday when wenta pick up ‘kiko. Seein’ her tonight.”
“Thaht I know,” Marie huffed, lifting her hand to smack the freshly clear neck of her older brother. It had been an acceptable compromise. Well, it had been more of a stalemate than a compromise with Jubilee and Marie hell bent on him getting hair styled and he not ready to give up his ‘chops. In the end they settled on a haircut, with Logan getting an actual style (instead of his wild mane) but one which would work with his precious mutton chops.

“Thaht ain’t what ah meant.”
“What else did ya mean?” Even though he wanted to talk to someone and even though within their circle Marie was the best person for it, it wasn’t easy for Logan to open himself to anyone, to talk about the touchy-feely-mushy stuff.

Even Mariko had known it and bless her soul, the angel never took his inability…his inexperience the wrong way. She knew, had come to know by experience that Logan like many a male, even more so than others, found it easier to convey his feelings physically than by the spoken word. And show he did, for even though he didn’t say it…often, it was clear how Logan had felt towards his departed wife. In fact, the only time that anyone had ever seen tears in Logan’s eyes was just before Mariko had breathed her last breath. And even those, she had, even with her failing strength, wiped away, whispering that his smile was the last thing that she wanted to see before she closed her eyes forever….and get her wish she did, for swallowing his pain and tears, Logan had not only smiled, he had done that till she drew breath. Even after that he didn’t cry, after all he had promised her that he wouldn’t do so.

“Logan?” Marie’s hail drew him back into the conversation. “Whaht’s eatin’ at ya?”
“Nothing?” He cursed himself for forgetting that she would see about it and confront him about it.
“She said no?” she didn’t let up.
“No.”

“Fahne then. Whaht’s the mattah?” he frowned at her.
“I said nothin’ didn’t I?” Yanking his arm free Logan stomped past the now empty tables.

--

“Logan, do ya lahhke her?” The soft whisper stopped him once again.
“What do you mean?”

Sensing his tension spike up at being put in a spot, Marie decided to take a step back herself. She already knew that her gruff Canadian brother liked the African American teacher. She also knew about his dating history or if better said, she knew about the lack of a dating history for the widowed father of two girls. Ever since their mother had died, Logan had been fulfilling the duties of both parents and had never shown the barest interest in any sort of female companionship, not for the benefit of the girls but for himself….until now.

“Ah was just saying that she is so nice with Jubes, Kiko, you, the rest of us, that….”
“What?” His tone was both annoyed and curious.
“Ah think, ya shouldn’t screw this up?” She got directly to the point.
“Huh?” That startled him. “Who said anything about screwin’ it up?”
“No one,” Marie shook her head, stepping forth to gently squeeze his arm. “Ah just...ah…”

“What kid?” This time around, his voice was softer, almost like the one he used whenever he had to console her or support her, like when she missed her mamma or when the flamin’ Cajun acted like an ass with her.

“Ah don’t want ya to get hurt…”

“Huh?! Thanks darlin’,” Logan leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. “Yer a good kid.”
“Any tahme sugah,” she returned his embrace before drawing back and pushing him towards the door. “Now go.”

“Go?”
“Yeah, go. Yah have a date t’ get ready for.”

“Marie?! Its in the evenin’.” Logan gestured towards the wall-clock.
“Yeah. So?”

“Don’t ya think it’s a bit early. Like almost eight hours early.”
“It ain’t early.” The young woman shook her head. “Ya need tha tahme ta get ready.”

“Time? Ready?” What did she think he was going to do? Get a spa treatment?

“Yeah.” And just like clockwork, she started. “Ya gotta exfoliate, try out different clothes, an’ no jeans,” she warned, rattling off a whole list of pre-launch….umm, pre-date-procedures that he needed to do before he went out for his first ever singles date.

---

That evening,

‘Five minutes seven,’ thankful that he was in time, Logan got out of his freshly serviced and washed Jeep. Fixing his shirt and pant crease, he checked his fly…twice, both top and bottom. Everything was in place.

Next, he patted his behind, making sure that his wallet was there. ‘Yeah, got it.’ It wouldn’t look nice if he showed up on his date without money.

“Here goes bub.” Taking a deep breath he started up the driveway, only to scramble back second later. ‘Fuck,’ he fumbled with the remote locker. ‘Almost forgot it.’

Whew! He sighed as opening the door, he reached in to grab the bouquet that he had just bought ten minutes ago.

‘Make sure the is no bill sticking to it.’ Marie and Jubilee’s chorused warning still rang in his ears.

The flowers in one hand, he repeated his earlier checks.

‘Shirt.’ Check.

‘Pants.’ Check

‘Money.’ Checkeroo.

‘Confidence.’ Uh-Okay. Check that too.


Getting fed-up with the pansiness, the Wolverine snarled out aloud. ‘Fuckin’ do it already.’

Once again a deep breath and Logan stepped away from the jeep, the Wolverine as his ass making his steps surer.

‘Okay,’ he stopped at the front door.

‘Lets see how this datin’ thing works.’

---

Note: Had planned on getting the date (at least going) in this chapter but somehow things got delayed. Blame it all on Logan and his introspection.

An’ please review!!

13. Ready, Set…Lets Eat!!

Summary: I’ve read many a date, so decided to do something different.

---

Checking her reflection for the umpteenth time, Ororo felt more than a little nervous and a little less than a lot confused. The nervousness came from worrying about how the date, her first in a very long time, would turn out, while the confusion, well that came from an equally simple thought.

‘Why am I even nervous? Its not like its my first date or even a blind one at that?’ She shuddered recalling the last and thankfully only blind date she had been on. It was during her college days and man was that an experience. It was so…memorable that it would be three months before she even looked at any man (except her father) with something other than disgust. That stupid idiot, he actually had the temerity to finger his nose in front of her. And of that wasn’t enough, he then went onto examine the treasure that he’d dug out, rolling it into a ball before flicking it onto the couple seated behind her, feeling rather smug with his accomplishment when it landed on the man’s head.

Thankfully Logan wasn’t like this. “At least I hope not.” She wondered, frowning a second later at even thinking that. How many times had it been that she’s met him now? At a dozen and that too without the weekly gathering over at Marie’s. And though not debonair and polished, Logan had never been anything but courteous towards her.

“And besides, I already know Jubilee and Amiko,” that supported her line of thought. After all, if you wanted to know the parents or as it was in this case, the parent was, just take a look as the children.


Feeling rather settled, she quickly finished applying her lipstick, using the simple yet classically time tested red. Reaching for a perfume her hand still, wavering midair at which one to pick. Though not quite sure where their dinner was going to be, she knew enough to know that it wouldn’t be in the usual haunts where Scott and Jean went for their weekly night outs.

‘Scott and Jean.’ The two names caused her nervousness to jump a couple of notches. She still hadn’t told them about her Saturday evening/night jaunts, let alone this evening. Why? Because she knew what their reactions would be.

‘Sweety, are you sure you want to do this?’ Jean would ask in a schooled tactful tone. ‘After all…’

‘Are you out of your mind?’ Scott would interrupt her, his face flushed as he tried to maintain a semblance of control. ‘How could you even think of…’

DING DONG

“Saved by the bell.” Ororo sighed at the intrusion pulled her out of her thoughts.

One last look at the mirror and she started towards the door.

---

One hand in his pocket, the link allowing the coat to be draped from it, Logan let out an audible sigh, his ears perking at the tapping of a heel from inside the house.

‘Here goes,’ he had just enough time to once last fly-check before the door was pulled open, and he lost all any form of comprehensive thought. Good thing that the zip was there, ‘cause otherwise surely something woulda shot out.

“Good evening Logan.” She might as well have been talking to empty space. “Logan? Uh…”

‘Fuck! Leather.’ He swallowed, doing his best but failing to raise his eyes above her waist. “You said somehin’?” His question though for her face was asked to her knee-high boots and tight leather skirt.

“Yes. I said…” ‘Look up Bub, look UP!’ “Good even…in…gg.” Ororo herself was busy appreciating the fine male specimen before her.

Even dressed in a simple black pant and coat combination, okay, the coat isn’t quite there. But even then, dressed in black trousers, his shoes polished and reflecting the porch light, his full sleeved sky blue shirt giving making for a perfect blend of semi-formal and laid back, Logan looked almost, he looked different. ‘Just remove the muttonchops and he might as well be from country club,’ she mused, in her own examination missing out how he was the doing the same to her. ‘Then again, the ‘chops do look good on him. Even more so with the rest of his hair nicely combed back. Give him a…classic feel.’


“Uh, these are fer you,” starting first, Logan was the first to recover, gulping down to catch any possible drooling.

“Oh…thank you,” the smile she flashed lit up her face, and for the first of many times that night, Logan thanked his two date-gurus, the slightly experienced Marie and the cosmo-hopped Jubilee. Well, more Marie than Jubes. Never in his life would Logan trust himself with anything that those crap-bags said. Hundred tips to get yer man. Fuck. Ya didn’ need no stikin’ hundred tips to do that, and if ya did, then ya sure as hell weren’t going to get it.

It was as if you’d follow hundred tips to get your dog to love you more. Men and dogs. Dogs and men. The same.

Feed him. Fuck him. Shut the fuck up. There. Three simple ways. If ya want yer pup happy, throw him a bone, get him a bitch and stop fuckin’ playin’ with him and making him wear clothes the same as yers.

An’ if ya want to add two more, then…get another TV and sure as hell don’t talk about yer girl-friends and their lives with him. ‘cause then you’d ask him for his opinion and if he said something that you didn’t like, which would be every single time, then he too was in the doghouse, which in his case would be the living room couch…if he was lucky.

Just like the men of those friends of yers that read cosmo and tried those flamin’ hundred tips.

Hundred tips? Sure. Hundred tips to get him to flee running for the hills, the TV in one hand and his beer in the other.

---

“Did you say something?” Ororo’s soft voice brought Logan back into the present. Okay, what did just happen. One second he was handing her the bouquet which the way they both had their hands on it, he still hadn’t, and the next… ‘Shut up.’ A snarl from the Wolverine ended any further cosmo-thoughts.

“Nah. Nothing,” he let go of the flowers. “Just uh…you look…nice.” In his fumbling he even forgot the words that Jubilee had dictated to him to use in praise of her dress. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. Totally-bend over-and… okay, that last once came from the Wolverine.

The day Jubes talked like that, that would be the day Logan would go shopping for a cyanide pill, for himself…after he killed the fucker who touched her.


“Th-Thank you,” Ororo was surprised at the simple yet heartfelt complement. “You also look…nice,” she returned in a tongue in cheek manner, her slightly teasing tone finally breaking through the wall of tension that had propped up between them.

“Thanks. Uh…ready to go?”

“Yes,” Ororo smiled over the flowers. “Just let me put these in water and grab my stuff.”

“Sure.” It wasn’t like he had anything better to do, well except to keep his tongue in check. ‘Leather. Why’d she haveta wear leather. An’ that top….’

---

Five minutes later,

“Uh, I forgot to ask,” having helped Ororo in, Logan bounded over to his side. “Where’d you wanna go?”

“Oh, you mean…” he hadn’t got any reservations. And that too on a Friday. Clearly he wasn’t experienced…
“No no, I got three reservations,” Logan blurted out.

“…with dating?” Three reservations! ‘Not trying too hard, are you Mr. Howlett?’

“Yeah,” he scratched the back of neck consciously. “Didn’t know what kinda food you liked, so got three, Chinese, Indian an’ Italian. Could only get them. If you don’t…”

“Indian!” Ororo piped up, by now fighting hard to contain her giggles. It was clear that the normally laid back Logan was completely out of his depth when it came to dating.

Wanting to put him at ease, “I am trying to control my fat intake,” she found herself explaining her choice. ‘Don’t talk about your weight. Don’t. Talk. About. Your. Weight.’ Her conscious beat at her, complete with a weighing machine in its hands.

“Huh?” He pulled out of the driveway.

“Nothing. I’d like Indian…only if its not too spicy.” She clarified, knowing from experience how spicy Indian food could be.
“No worries about that,” Logan had on good authority, namely Betsy’s boyfriend Neal, that this place was A-1 grade. Not only was the food great, they even made it according to your liking, less spicy, more spicy, less oil, more butter…anything you want. “Its good. Besides after what happened with Jubes….” He trailed off, realizing a second too late at the secret he’d almost let out.

“Jubilee? What happened to her?” It was only this afternoon that Ororo had seen the bubbly teenager.
“Nothin’. Nothin’ happened…” Once glance at her bright inquisitive eyes and he caved in. “You gotta promise not to tell her. She’d kill me. Fer real.”
“Is it bad?” Ororo was getting worried now. “Something serious…”
“Nah, it ain’t but if she found out that I told ya then it would be for me….serious I mean.”

“Oh,” her lips curved up in a smile. “In that case, I promise I won’t tell.”

Another glance too confirm the veracity of her words and Logan started,

“Well, it was after our last eat out. It was Indian that time too. And Jubes she….”

---

Note: Well, when I started this was going to be a mushy-sappy chapter. Then somewhere along the way I decided that with all those ‘date’ chapters out there, why not try something else.

Don’t know if I will do a date or just jump over to the afterwards part and just do a small flashback. For now….let Logan tell Ororo about what happened to Jubes after she had one to many piece of Karahi Chicken.

Please Review!!

14. Getting it on

Summary: Well, not Logan and Ororo. They are just too up in their own doubts to do anything worthwhile. Or are they?

---

Somewhere…remote,

“Mmph,” even with the fire blazing inside him, there hesitancy was clear in his movements. Still, with ‘primal nature’ rapidly overpowering the ‘learned culture’ a probing hand lifted up to rest on…

“Uhn…” the way her hand clamped onto his, his heart all but stopped. Maybe he had committed a mistake; maybe it was too much too soon. He should not have touched her like this…and especially not at this place.

Any moment now, offended by his actions she would break away. Any moment no… ‘Wha-!!’ …oowww.

Already heady and having been pushed even further by her grabbing his hand, now he just about lost it and had he not be this aroused, he surely would have passed out at what she did.
Not only did she tighten her grip on his wrist, she started to use her own hand to guide his, teach it how to move over her, over the soft fabric of her top, going down to its fringe then rising up again…only this time moving under it.

“W-Wuh…” they finally broke apart, the need for fresh air irritating them both. Invisible spikes seemed to be shooting through his entire being, all aimed towards a certain section of his physique.
“I’m sor-sorry,” he blurted out like a fool. “I shouldn’t have…”
“Sshh. Don’t.” A slender finger to his lips silenced the apology or any words from him, even as her other hand continued to guide him further onto…into her. One touch of the pebbled nub of a breast, and he all but came right there, right in the tight confines of his pants. “Don’t.”
“Bu…” Given their current state, although highly inappropriate, it was the Lord’s name that he called out, thankfully not aloud. “Uh-huh.”

“You want me to stop?” The vision straddling him asked softly.

“I-I…” he hesitated, his eyes clearly portraying his confusion. Not trusting himself with words, he just shook his head, lowered it to her shoulder…and almost fearfully, let his previously stilled fingers move and spread out.

When he finally did speak, it was just one word, an almost inaudible sigh…just one name, hers.

“Wanda.”


Smiling at the reverence in his voice, Wanda recalled that all this was new for him, that he had never done this…at least not to such an extent.

And now? Now she was going to be his first, and even though she wasn’t a virgin as him, in her own way it was all new for her too. Even with all her experiences, even with all her mistakes, both accidental and deliberate, she too was going to have a first, starting on a path that she had never been on before.

This was the first time that she was in love, real love, and not just physical…

‘No, don’t go there. Not now.’ She stopped herself, not wanting to think about it, not with him. With him, she could forget it all; forget that most of the things she had done, all her rebelling, had started with just one aim…just to get attention. ‘No, not just any attention. Not just any.’

It was the attention of a man who was always far too busy, always, especially when it came to his own progeny, his own children. It was almost as if they, she and her brother, were being punished…punished for something bad they did, for someone they had taken away from him.

But it wasn’t their fault, neither of them that their mother died giving birth to them.


“Wanda,” his soft whisper came across as a beacon of light to save her from the darkness that had seemed to have made home inside of her. “Liebchen?”

“I love you Kurt, I love you.” It was out before she could stop herself, not that she even wanted to. This wasn’t the first time that these words left her lips. That had been almost a month ago, and after the fear of the first time, each time she said these words it became easier to say them, especially when they, the words and her feelings were not only cherished but also returned.

“I-I love you too W-Wanda.”


Once again, they leaned in towards each other, neither of them noticing the car parked a short distance away, or the beady pair of eyes watching them…glaring at them.

---

Elsewhere,

“Ororo. Ororo?” For Ororo it was déjà vu as for the second time in as many months she found herself zoning out, causing those around her to hail her repeatedly. Only this time around, it wasn’t her friend and colleague Cecelia but the smooth cultured baritone of the school’s headmaster and her adopted father, Professor Charles Xavier that lanced into her daydreaming to bring her to the present.

“Uh-Yes Professor,” Ororo fumbled at the three concerned faces starring at her, lifting her hand for a quick and thankfully redundant drool-check.

“Ororo,” Scott leaned towards her. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Yes Scott,” she gave him a small smile. “Why do you ask?”
“Maybe because you have been starring at that water glass for the last five minutes,” Jean piped up from the other side. “Something wrong? Are you feeling well?” Ever the doctor, the redhead’s second question was as clichéd as the ‘Do the carpet match the curtains?’ question that both the beauties had to face many a time, more than they’d wanted it, a lot more.

“Ororo,” Charles Xavier spoke from the other side of the table, his voice not of the Professor but of the father. “You seem…preoccupied. Is everything…”
“Its nothing Professor,” Ororo interjected, plastering on a bright-but-controlled smile for her father, before flashing the same to both her friends.

The three teachers had gathered for lunch and Jean had joined them in her own break time, something that both she and Moira were wont to do rather frequently.

“Nothing huh?” Jean conspiratorially smirked at her, correctly guessing the thoughts crowding her mind. ‘Something with the new friend of hers,’ she mused silently. “Is it…” she started.

“Its nothing,” Ororo snapped, causing her to shut up while confirming for her and both Charles and Scott that there was something major off with her. Though knowing her as they did, they knew better than to go around poking into her privacy.


As for Ororo herself, it wasn’t that she was feeling down. What it was that she did not want to tell anyone here about her dates with Logan, least of all to Scott, who had only recently stopped ranting about the ‘thug’ father of two of the school’s students.

It had been almost two months since she first met Mr. James Howlett nee Logan, six weeks since she first accepted his invitation to join him and his family at Marie’s Diner and four weeks from the first time they went out together, just the two of them.

Four weeks. Four weeks that had seen so much change for her. What had started with a semi-date in a ‘family’ restaurant of all places, had led to not one but two more outings. Even though she did not know about how Logan felt towards their dinners, Ororo herself had finally given in and with the last time accepted that it wasn’t just two people having dinner with each other in a public place, but rather two people on a date, her and Logan on a date…with each other.

Just as they were going to be tonight.

Moreover, the last time, they had even kissed. Well, okay, she was the one who kissed him, and granted it had been only a peck on the cheek, but still, it was something. It hadn’t taken Ororo very long to realize that maybe Logan was holding back, both due to his inexperience in formal dating as also her tensing up the first time around.

‘And whose fault is that?’ The Nubian beauty had cursed herself for her involuntary reaction after their second time out. It was that it was Logan who had leaned in towards her, his actions clearly foretelling a possible kissing situation…rather her ‘deer in headlights’ stance was at having a man; any man that close to her. Moreover, even though her silent reaction wasn’t all that ‘vocal’, it was loud enough for Logan to notice it and immediately back away.

It was two weeks before they went out the next time, and that was last week. Two weeks in which she had more than enough time to analyze and then re-analyze and then do it over again, her time with the ‘very different from her’, Logan. As expected, along with the good many bad things could and did come out of her mental musings, yet, even with the baggage of two daughters and an extended family (Marie and the others), difference in social backgrounds and circles, Ororo could not come with one concrete reason for why not to pursue this ‘development’ to its fullest. Not even ‘ghost’ of the man’s wife seemed to be a big enough of a wall. If anything, it only made the decision easier for her.

‘You two woulda gotten along great.’ She still recalled the ease with which Logan had said those words to her. It had been during second dinner that the conversation had taken a turn towards the ‘family’, the dead ones to be exact. While she had not gone in much detail about her parents, Logan did not hold anything back when talking about his beloved Mariko. Even though things should have gotten awkward and tense between them, Ororo, for her life could not help but smile at the naiveté of Logan’s comment, especially seeing that had Mariko still been alive, there would be no way that the two of them would be there at that time, in each other’s company, doing what they were doing.


“Ororo…” Charles started again, only to stop as Ororo started up from the table.

“Please excuse me.”

She needed to get away. She wanted to keep it a secret, at least for a while. ‘Just let it be just mine, just for a few days. Just me and him…just the two of us.’

Well, the two of them and just about everyone from the ‘Logan Posse’.

---

Elsewhere,

“WHAT!!”

Ever the brave, or rather ‘stupidly fearless’, Remy Lebeau, self titled ‘Casanova Supreme’ did not bat even an eye as he faced off against the other man. Not that he needed to, for if push came to shove, he was sure that he could out run the older and heavily built Logan…just as he had when ‘Da Wild Man’ had caught him with Marie for the first time. Thankfully, those days of chasing were a thing of a past.

“All Remy sayin’ is dat you should do sumt’ing.” He tried again.

“By groping her ass?” Logan tone was beyond incredulous.

“Remy not sayin’ dat you grope de ass,” well, in truth he was. “He just sayin’ dat when you put your hand on da woman’s waist just let it slides…”

“Yeah yeah,” Logan cut him, feeling all the more awkward at the way Remy was grop…caressing, ‘de imaginary woman’. “Let it slide lower and feel de curves. I got you the first time. Stop with the humpin’.”

“Well, den you-”

“Ain’t happenin’ Lebeau.” Turning away Logan shook his head, trying to get the visual that had formed at Remy’s words and actions. ‘Grope her ass.’ He mumbled to himself. ‘Who does he think she is? More’en that, who does he think I am?’ There was no way he was going to do such a thing to Ororo or for that matter to any other woman. At one time, he might have and did so such things…at one time when he was a half-animal half-man loner, all by his lonesome, with no one to call his own or someone who would call him theirs. Even if the baser part of him was still there, after all, one cannot just wipe away the past, even if he was still the Wolverine, he was also more, he was a father…of not one but two children, two girls. ‘Girls.’ That alone was enough for him to sit up straight and behave. After all, if he wanted his girls to be treated well and respected, he should set an example for them by his actions and not by his words…uh, most of the time.

‘Still, it is a nice ass…butt….behind. Yeah, behind.’

Besides, he wasn’t sure how Ororo felt towards…towards, ‘whatever this is we’ve got going on.’ The one time he made a move she had all tensed up. ‘Shouldn’t have listened to Mary and Butt-Brain here,’ he scowled at Remy.

“No Logan sugah,” he mimicked Marie, “Its done like this now.”

“De fillie needed to caressed,” even then frenchie was braying the same old ‘caressing’ tune.

‘Fuck it.’ Why did things have to be so difficult? So what if he wasn’t all sophisticated like her or have a highfalutin family. It hadn’t mattered before, neither to him and as far as he knew, neither to Ororo. ‘Heck, she’s seen what I am like and everyone here. It ain’t like I told her lies. She knows what I am? How I am?’

Barely had that thought sounded, another one rose to counter it.

‘But do you? Do you know her?’


Lost in his thoughts, it took Logan a few seconds to realize that he wasn’t alone anymore.

“Mr. Howlett. Mr. James Howlett?” Turning to the deep voice sounding from behind him, Logan found himself face to face, or face to nose with its owner.

“Yeah. Who wants ta’ know?” Logan studied the man before him. Blonde hair, blue eyes, height a couple or few inches taller than Logan, built like a linebacker. Even dressed in a plain white shirt and slightly worn jeans, a jacket draped over one arm, the stranger’s demeanor and physique literally shouted cop. ‘Nah. Not cop. More like…’

“Please allow me to introduce myself,” flashing a small but friendly smile, the man thrust his hand forward.

“My name is…”

---

Note: This update has been in the works for so long that even I have forgotten what I was trying to get out here. However, as with all my other WIP updates (and my recent slump), I decided to wrap it up…just to get things moving along.

So…any guesses on who the ‘New Guy’ is?

15. Go forth and…

Summary: …reveal…change…whatever. This chapter has two of them, two for Logan and one for Ororo. Yes, that’s right. Out of 2, 2 for one and 1 for the other. How’s that? Read to find out.

---

“Oh God!” Standing at the foot of her bed, staring helplessly at the pile of clothes built up on it, Ororo jumped at the ringing of the bell, letting out an exclamation that had just about as many part of yelping in it, as it had of groaning.

*Ding Dong*

There it went again and maybe it was her ears playing tricks on her but it was as if the chime actually sounded…Apologetic? Almost as if it was saying, ‘I am sorry mistress. I know that you haven't finished, or even got anywhere closing to it in getting ready for the evening. Had it been in my control I would have retained my silence and let this insolent interloper stand here waiting for your Excellency to get her butt in gear and actually settle on one damn outfit.’

“Okay, that was just wrong,” Ororo cringed, not only was she ‘talking’ to the doorbell but was also finding it acceptable to have the puny admonish her on her indecisiveness. “As if the mirrors, closets, boots, shoes and just about everyone…everything else wasn’t doing it already.”

“Wear...I mean, you could-should pro’ally wear somethin’ comfortable.” Not for the first time that hour or for that matter, that evening, the snow haired Ororo repeated those three damn words, complete with the accent with which they were originally voiced. ‘Easy for him to say.’

Returning home after seeing off Amiko with Jubilee, Ororo should have been more than a little surprised at having a voice message waiting on her house phone on her. After all, it wasn’t like Logan did not have her cell phone number just as she his. Still, even though it was prerecorded and not live, it was nice to hear his voice, that molassessy rumble that she had come to associate only with him and complete with those ‘too stubborn to let go even after more than ten years of being in the US’ Canadianisms that came along with it.

Hmm, it was so…

*Ding Dong*

‘…so time to open the door and let him in.’

---

“Mr. Howlett. Mr. James Howlett?”

“Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Steve Rogers and I am private detective.”

---
Earlier in the evening,

“Comfer-ugh-uh-Comfortable. Comfortable? Comfer…uh….hmm…” Standing inside walk-in closet, still dressed in her school-time ‘Ms. Monroe’ tighty-whities, one hand at her forehead the other sifting through the line of clothing on hanging in display in front of her, Ororo scrunched her nose trying to find something, anything in her wardrobe to fit both her definition of date-attire as also Logan’s request of something comfortable.

“Cannot wear this,” she muttered, shaking her head and disregarding the semi-…more like, three-quarters formal combo.

“Nope, not that either.” Even though she did not know what exactly Logan had meant by comfortable or even why he asked her dress that way, one thing Ororo was sure off. He definitely wasn’t going to take her to see the opera.

“NO! Definitely not. No way. Uh-huh.” One glance at her next choice and a shudder ran down her spine as he Nubian beauty berated herself for getting chumped into not only wearing but actually paying from her own hard earned money for the ‘bimbo’ ensemble before her. ‘Ugh. What was I thinking?’ She had bought it from her first paycheck or rather was forced to buy it by the three ‘tittering sirens’, Lila, Calypso and the worst of the trio, Yukio. Once, only once had she worn it and the night she had it on, Ororo had spent the entire time checking every minute or so, about whether it was still covering her behind or had it ridden up to her waist. That’s how short it was.

“Thank god those three are not here right now, especially Yukio. She would have had a field day at this.” Ororo breathed a sigh of relief. With Lila splitting her time between her three recording studios in London, the new one in Toronto and her husband, Sam’s family ranch in Kentucky, it has been months since Ororo last met. Who would have guessed, that the happy go lucky Lila Cheney would one day not only become THE Lila, businesswoman extraordinaire but also, Lila Guthrie, wife of Horticulturist, Dr. Sam Guthrie, and in a few months Mama to their soon to be born daughter.

As for Calypso and Yukio, who knew where the two of them were. Airhostesses, both of them, the duo were still sharing the same SoHo apartment that they had been in for the last five years. As far as Ororo knew, except for the odd fling here or there, or as it was Yukio’s mantra on that subject, ‘Just about anywhere’, neither of them seemed to be in a hurry to get into a committed relationship let alone leave their pad.


Shaking her head to clear the nostalgic thoughts crowding it, Ororo ran a hand through her hair and stepped forward to resume her search for ‘something comfortable’. Damn.

---

“It-It’s about...Is there someplace we can talk, in private.”

“Very well. It’s about your past. Your family.”

---

A couple of seconds to unlock it and a couple more to garb the knob and turn it, and the door was open, both the physical, the tangible one as also the one that had been so stubbornly locked within Ororo’s mind. One look at Logan and she knew what she was going to wear.

‘Should have known,’ a smile formed on her face as having stepped down to the foot of the porch stairs, Logan turned around to greet her. ‘When he said comfortable, he really did mean comfortable.’

“Hey.” The clad in a pair of clean and still relatively new jeans, a tight white T-shirt peeking out from between the open top-button of a thick (pastel and not checked…this time) cotton shirt, with a brown leather jacket over it, Logan stepped back up the two steps leading to the front door. Though happy to see Ororo, he was a bit taken aback when she opened the door clad in a robe, its sash tightly tied at her waist. Taken aback because this was a first that Ororo wasn’t already ready by the time he came to pick her up. An’ why was she looking at him that way?

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“What? Oh. Nothing. Nothing at all.” Embarrassed at having being caught ogling, Ororo shook her head, stumbling on her words as she stepped back in invitation. “Please come in.”

“I ain’t early, am I?” Logan lifted his arm to check the time. Heck, the daylight saving change was still a couple of weeks away. Maybe he got the time wro…

“No, no.” Ororo rested his arm with a slender hand and yes, there it was again. The electrical charge she felt whenever she came into physical contact with this man. “It’s I who is late. Had some work leftover.” ‘Better go in for a believable lie,’ she decided.

“Oh. ‘kay.” Logan nodded, suddenly reconsidering his decision of going in for the denim jeans. Already snug, things had just gotten tighter…and more than a little.

“Please come in.” Closing the door behind them, Ororo led her guest, ‘No,’ she corrected herself, led her date to the living room. Once seated and the perfunctory offers of ‘Something to drink?’ dispended with, she stepped back. “Just give me five-ten, yes, ten minutes.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Logan nodded wanting her to leave so that he could fix…reposition himself. Goddamn. “Take as much time as ya want. We ain’t in a hurry.”

---

“Before I begin, can I ask you a question?”

“How much do you remember of your childhood? Of your family?”

---

A quick change and ten minutes later the two of them stepped out the front door with Ororo trailing behind Logan locking the door behind her but not before activating the house security system.

“Where did you…” she trailed away, her eyes going wide at the sight before her. “No.”

“Huh?” Thinking that maybe he had missed something Ororo said, Logan looked up from the driver’s seat. “You say something?”

Keeping busy by flipping through the channels, hearing the click of heels on the hardwood floor he had shot to his feet, smiling satisfactorily at seeing Ororo’s choice of attire. Dressed in hip-hugging denim with a zipped to the top black leather jacket she looked set for the night he had planned for them, starting with the mode of transportation, his trusty, freshly washed and polished, Harley-Davidson.

“No.” Ororo shook her head. “Are-Are we going on…that?”

‘Well, set she ain’t,’ Logan chuckled at the look of disbelief on the her beautiful face. ‘Eh. At least she got the wear right.’

“Yeah,” he gave a nod extending a hand towards her, or rather the helmet held in it. “Here. You’ll need ta put this on.”

Even as she took the proffered helmet, Ororo gulped down to dry her suddenly choked throat. “L-Logan. I-this might not be a good idea.”

“Ororo?” Logan stopped mid-action, his own helmet held just above his head. “You okay?”

“What? Yes. Sure. Everything is all right.” Only it wasn’t, not from where Ororo stood, images of falling and then skidding on the rock hard and just as abrasive asphalt flashing through her mind, the memory of the pain almost a decade old getting refreshed. It had been with Scott, his first ever bike…and her first and only bike ride. Until now. “Le-Let’s go.”

Grabbing at her floundering confidence Ororo stepped up to the bike, put the helmet, strapped it in place, clenched her eyes shut, lifted one leg over onto the other side and almost fearfully lowered herself onto the cool leather. A push of a button the engine growling to life, and Ororo quickly upgraded that ‘almost’ to ‘most definitely’.

---

“No Mr. Howlett- What? Logan?”

“Mr. Logan, I do not mean any harm to you or to your family. In fact it’s for them that I am here.”

---

By the time the duo pulled into the parking lot (or whatever passed as one) of wherever Logan had brought them too, the fear or even the memory that had brought it up were nowhere on Ororo’s mind. In its place was a buzz, both in her as well as all through her body, all of it aimed towards and in turn rising from just one thing. Arousal. The vibrations from the engine seeping through the soft leather, the warmth radiating from Logan…his back at her front, his legs next to her own, his chest under her grasping hands, it all made for a heady concoction, one that had Ororo squirming in her seat, both while on the bike on the ride over as also for quite some time after they had made their way inside.

As for the place, though it was her first time here and even though it was miles away (both literally as well as socially) from of the usual country clubs, exclusive restaurants and other ‘star’ establishments, Ororo soon found herself at ease and enjoying the ambiance. Or maybe it was the company that made it easier.

They had just finished with their dinner and were lounging with a couple of drinks…well, at least Logan was. As for Ororo, having polished off three cocktails, she was feeling more than a wee bit tipsy, something that gave her the strength to do what she did next.


Pushing herself out of her side, she stood up and extended a hand to confused Logan. “Dance?”

“Huh?” He had thought that she was to the bathroom or something. Dance? Him? Was she crazy? ‘Fuck,’ Logan cursed internally. ‘Shouldn’ta let her have that last one.’

“Would you...” One hand landed flat on the table and Logan found himself staring eye to swell with something very…swelly, as Ororo leaned in closer. “…like to dance with me?”

“Uh, Ororo-” better get her to sitdown.

“Please.”

‘Bummer.’

“Jus-Just one, ‘kay?” Daring a glance towards the near empty dancing area, Logan was both thankful as well cursing that he had brought Ororo her today of all days. In keeping with their ‘special’ for each day of the week, the owner had deemed today as ‘Family Wednesday’. That meant not only was the crowd today kinda sober, it also meant that the music was in keeping with the ‘day’, which in meant mostly soft instrumental. ‘At least it ain’t ‘Country Saturday’.’ He consoled himself. There was no way he would listen let alone move his legs to that hick crap.

“Yes.” Ororo practically pulled him out. It had been so long since she danced and even though she was pretty sure that Logan wasn’t one to usually dance, his agreeing gave her the one opening that she was so looking for. It allowed her to get close to him, and not just the way she had been on the motorcycle.

Tonight she was going to kiss him and… The ‘and’ she let trail off…for the moment.


At least that was her idea, until…

“Ororo. I am goin’ to kiss you now. Tell me if you want me not to.”

…he jumped her move.

“Oh. Yes please. I mean don’t stop….mmmm…”


That night, Logan did not sleep in his bed or even under his own roof. He did not sleep much at all, nor did Ororo. Neither of them did.

---

“I was hired by my client to track down and confirm your identity.”

“My client? Ms. Laura Howlett. She is your sister…your twin sister.”

---

Note: Tried to do this chapter to get more from Ororo’ side, but with a few Logan related ‘flashback’ bits tossed in.

So, now that they are together and it looks like Logan is going to be reunited with his birth family, what next?

Please Review!!