Now where did I leave that saucepan?

Let’s look here…Lids. More lids. Collander. Big salad bowl. Saute pan…need that. All righty. Now we’re cooking. Almost. Any moment now…

“Might help if everything wasn’t constantly rearranged in this house.�

“Can’t be helped. Place gets blown up too damned often. New faces in the place, new hands rebuildin’ the joint every time, everybody has their own idea of where all the stuff’s s’posed t’go.� Ororo’s head whipped around to meet the raspy, deep voice rumbling out from the doorframe. She was surprised to have been thinking aloud, let alone caught in the act.

“Good afternoon to you, too, Logan.� Logan’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he watched her puttering around amongst the cupboards. Ororo nimbly maneuvered in the spacious kitchen using her cane as she searched for the utensils and elusive saucepan.

“Afternoon?� He glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Geez. I thought the sun looked high in the sky.� Logan reached into the refrigerator and perused its contents, finally reaching for a Molson.

“Long night?� Ororo’s eyes twinkled knowingly as she set the sauté pan on the front burner of the electric range and adjusted the heat to medium-high.

“Not long enough.� Ororo contemplated him as she remembered back to the low rumble of Logan’s Harley pulling into the garage shortly before dawn. She woke with the feeling that her head had only just hit the pillow, unable to recall when she had finally fallen asleep. Ororo lay silently in her sumptuously appointed queen-sized bed and stared up through the skylight, watching the last of the stars fade as she sky changed from deep cobalt to sapphire. There it was, the shuddering creak of the garage door. Ororo’s eyes glowed white, briefly summoning a light breeze to carry the nighttime sounds closer, making them more distinguishable.

“Where’s the song, Logan?� she whispered. “You always sing me the song.� She was almost disappointed, until the familiar, rusty baritone voice began to hum the opening bars to a tune that made her chuckle every time she heard it.

“I’ve got friends
In low places,
Where the whiskey flows
And beer chases
My blues away
I’m here to say…�

Gravel crunched beneath his boots – Ororo assumed he wore his favorite, faded brown leather boots – as he made his way up to the kitchen door. That was typical, too. The Institute was no longer a “hostel� and headquarters for a couple dozen X-Men to train and spend downtime between missions. It was truly a school, teeming with powerful, and of course, impressionable children and teens, none of whom needed the spectacle of their combat teacher stumbling inside the front door, reeking of Jack Daniels and warbling Garth Brooks.

Juicy tidbits of gossip were already abundant, even rampant around every corner of the mansion as it is, she mused. They’d still be sweeping up bits and pieces of Emma if not for Jean showing the mercy they all loved her for and putting her back together again. Why stir the pot?

For the moment, it was good to have him home. Even if she was just up here, listening to his light steps in the dark. She sighed in relief at the faint click of his bedroom door as he locked it behind him. Ororo visualized him removing his dark suede Stetson and hanging his leather jacket on the hook. Simple bedtime rituals by the man who seldom slept.

Foolishly, briefly, Ororo wondered who had shared Logan’s stolen hours away from the mansion. She dismissed it with a pang. “He’s an adult, Wind-Rider. Keep your nose out of it,� she chastised herself before flipping back onto her stomach to doze for another half-hour.

Ororo looked at him now, enjoying the play of sunlight in his thick, dark hair, uncovering glints of lighter brown and auburn highlights. In the light of day, she also noticed the faint dark smudges under his deep-set brown eyes that his healing factor hadn’t attended to quite yet. Logan uncapped the beer and raised it to his lips, taking an appreciative gulp. Busying her hands with the mundane tasks of coating the sauté pan with nonstick spray and digging in the rotating spice rack for the onion flakes and black pepper, she treated herself to a long look. Logan’s skin was burnished an even golden brown from the more frequent workout sessions that they lately took outdoors. Ororo had come to think of the Danger Room and the various gym suites in the mansion, as well as the huge workout room in Anna’s New Orleans manor as her second homes, on good days. On the odd days in between, when her shoulders ached from wobbling strolls between the parallel bars and her lower back screamed from the constant, crooked posture of holding herself upright on crutches, the well-equipped training suites felt like nothing more than a gilded cage.

Ororo mentally slapped herself for the traitorous realization that she had come to think of Logan as her warden.

“It’s still a little early for that,� Ororo suggested, nodding at the beer bottle. Logan sucked a droplet from his lip as he pulled a bar stool up to the kitchen counter.

“Or a little late, depending on how ya look at it. Hair o’ the dog, ‘Ro.� Ororo sighed in defeat. She wasn’t in the mood to lecture him. Then again, she mused, she could take it, why not dish it out?

“Must’ve been one mean dog,� she muttered. Logan snorted appreciatively, eyeing her over the edge of his beer as he took another gulp.

“Whatcha cookin’?� Ororo indicated the chicken breasts still in their packaging thawing in the sink.

“I was in the mood for chicken and rice. Hungry?�

“Eh. I could eat.� Logan was hungry. But Logan wasn’t in the mood for chicken.

“You haven’t been even been down for breakfast, Logan.�

“Keepin’ tabs on me, Boss?� Logan set his beer on the counter. Ororo’s blue gaze bore into his.

“Perish the thought. Could you please hand me the garlic?� Ororo turned back to the sink and peeled away the plastic from the chicken. Logan’s eyebrow quirked up as he returned to the refrigerator. Now why, he asked himself, was I just sidestepped? Logan silently approached her, drinking in the perfectly curved silhouette of Ororo’s body, outlined in the afternoon light. He inhaled her scent, subtle but still distinguishable over the other aromas. He restrained the urge to bury his nose in her lush, thick tumble of hair as he nudged the back of her arm. Her skin, even in that brief touch, felt cool and satiny in the heat of the kitchen.

Ororo paused and glanced down at the snowy white bulb of elephant garlic resting in his wide palm. Her eyes again traveled up to his face. “Thank you.� She reached for the bulb, her fingertips grazing his, just for a second. There it was again. That tiny tingle that shivered up the length of her forearm lately. His skin felt hot.

“Sure.� The space beside her felt empty now as Logan returned to his stool and beer. She bit back a protest. You were fine where you were… She popped a clove loose from the bulb, breaching the thin layers of skin. She selected her favorite cutting knife from the butcher’s block and laid it across the clove, deftly smashing her fist against the flat of the blade. She sifted out the bits of hull and the green root at the core and began rhythmically chopping the pulp. “Yer enjoyin’ that too much.� Ororo’s smile was mischievous this time.

“Speakin’ of enjoyin’ things…I slept through our workout, I take it?� His voice held a note of warning. Ororo sighed again.

“Yes. You did. I thought it best to let you rest.�

“Ya mean you thought it best ta go on without me,� he corrected her. “Thought we agreed I was here t’help ya, ‘Ro.�

“I followed the whole routine, Logan, I didn’t skimp.�

“I know that,� he growled from just over her shoulder. Ororo had been concentrating on julienning some red bell peppers and didn’t notice at first that he’d slipped so close. He laid his hot palm over the back of her left hand and wrested her grip from the pepper. “Let me see.� He turned her palm face-up and examined it, running the pad of his thumb over the thickened layer of callouses. “These look fresh,� he murmured. “Ya overdid it again.� Ororo’s stomach quivered at the light touch, coupled with his growling tone.

“I did what I could handle.�

“And then some. We talked about this.�

“Yes we did.� Ororo twisted her hand gently from his grasp, loathe to leave it.

His hand clapped onto her bare shoulder instead. The garlic sizzled in the sauté pan as Ororo scraped it off of the flat side of the blade, which she nearly dropped at the insistent touch. Steeling herself, Ororo faced him squarely this time.

“Don’t even bother actin’ all high an’ mighty with me, or trying to play it off. I can smell the chlorine in yer hair. Even without touching ya, I know yer lower back’s all knotted up again, and your shoulders are practically kissin’ yer earlobes with tension. And yer standin’ bowlegged like you just got off the stationary bike from a full-throttle race. Am I missin’ anything, darlin’?�

“No. You didn’t miss a beat.� Her expression was placid except for the subtle tightening around the corners of her mouth. Logan felt the pulse in her throat quicken, almost imperceptibly, but it was there. His strong, thick fingers drifted of their own accord along her trapezius muscles, testing the taut cords of muscle for strains. Ororo’s dark lashes fanned her cheeks as her eyes fluttered shut at the skilled touch. She recovered quickly, her tone matter-of-fact.

“All you missed was my workout. I certainly can’t miss them myself. I won’t recover if I spend all day in my chair or up in my loft, grading papers or watching my plants grow.�

“You’ll make it worse on yerself if you keep pushing it and overdoing it. Wanna undo all that hard work? Keep using yer powers before you’ve healed.� Logan waved his hand out the window at the plants outside. Ororo’s herb garden was damp, glistening with fresh rain.

“Undoing my hard work? Or undoing yours? I wouldn’t think of it. I know there are places you need to be, villains you need to take down.� Ororo added dryly, throwing the peppers in with the garlic. There. She’d placed her barb. Wait for it…

“Damn, yer a stubborn frail!� He hadn’t released her shoulder yet. His fingers tightened their grip as he studied her. “I’ll decide where I need t’be. If I didn’t know any better, ‘Ro, I’d think ya were trying to chase me outta this joint.�

Ouch. Ororo stiffened. “No.�

“You sure?�

“Absolutely.� He released her then, flicking a stray lock of hair back over her shoulder just for the excuse of touching her. Ororo took that opportunity to resume searching for the saucepan. Logan watched in amusement as Ororo released her cane, letting it clatter to the floor as she stooped down and began opening up lower cabinets. “Where is that bloody thing?� she cursed. Logan enjoyed the uncharacteristic string of profanity escaping her lips, barely audible over the bang and clatter of metal against metal as she rummaged through the shelves.

To avoid overtaxing her back, Ororo shifted to all fours.

Logan swallowed around a huge lump. “Er, need any help?�

“Relax. I’ve got it.�

“The saucepan?�

“Mm-hmm. It’s in here somewhere.�

“The dark blue one with the black handle?�

“Uh-huh, that’s the one.� Ororo’s enticing backside wiggled and jutted up in the air like a happy Valentine’s day present. Damn. No panty lines. None. The waistband of her black Lycra biking shorts was slightly visible when the hem of her periwinkle blue T-shirt rode up as she struggled with the handle of a skillet.

“Ya mean, this one?� The clattering and banging stopped as Ororo glanced up, incredulous. She met his eyes, crinkling at the corners as he fought to suppress a laugh. She barely missed where his eyes had rested a mere moment before flicking back to her face. Ororo made a disgusted noise and blew up against the slender lock of hair that had fallen into her eyes with a sputter.

Now Logan treated himself to a chuckle. He removed the pan from the hook hanging over the range and placed it on the front burner. “Never know when you’ll find what yer lookin’ for til it’s starin’ ya right in the face.� He extended his hand to her. Ororo pouted at it before taking it, pulling herself up from the floor.

“Shut up,� she purred nonchalantly.

“Yes, ma’am.� Logan reached for the rice bin on the counter and popped up the lid. He measured out two scoops into the pan, watching the grains dance and bounce up from the enamel. He was still grinning as he covered the rice with two inches of water and a snug lid and turned the heat to medium.

Logan flipped through the sports pages of the Daily Bugle from his perch at the counter and took a pull from his second beer. The rice bubbled soothingly on the burner beside him as Ororo set the table in the breakfast nook. Ororo smiled to herself whenever he occasionally grunted aloud or cursed under his breath.

“You’re unusually chatty today.�

“Eh.� The newsprint pages rattled together, breaking the tempo of thumps from Ororo’s cane across the hardwood floor. Ororo reached for a glass for herself from the cupboard. She brought it back to the cherrywood table and set it on the placemat closest to the kitchen door. Logan folded and set aside the Bugle and lifted the lid from the sauté pan, releasing plumes of rich, savory steam.

He was gonna miss this. Dammit.

Civilized. Yeah, that was it. Companionable. Friendly. God help him, it was even…domestic.

Unconsciously, Logan flexed his fingers and stretched, popping the joints in his neck. Didn’t help. None of it helped. He ran his palm over the stiff hairs covering his nape. All of ‘em were standing on end. The Molson didn’t chase away the swampy aftertaste of the Jack Daniels from ten hours before. Ororo pulled out a mosaic tiled trivet and set it atop the antique wood before she brought out the skillet and serving spoon.

Logan’s dark eyes followed her progress, assessing her posture. Her gait. The rolling, undulating movement of her hips. The graceful flex of her lissome thighs. His knuckles tingled and itched abominably. He scrubbed the itch with his blunt fingernails. Every nerve ending in his body cried out in protest, begging to be scratched. Shit. All it ever took was one little scratch. His skin felt too tight. The Beast within him snarled and clawed his insides, fighting to get out.

Of course, it might help if he fed it once in a while. He leaned over to flick off the burner switch and removed the rice from the heat.

“Logan, could you bring in the-“

“Got it, darlin,’ just a sec.� He grabbed a serving spoon out of the utensil rack and snagged a potholder from the counter, placing it under the saucepan to protect the table.

“Lunch is served, milord,� Ororo announced, her lilting, deep voice affecting more pear-shaped vowels. Logan quirked an eyebrow.

“Buttering me up won’t get ya anywhere, ‘Ro. I meant what I said. Quit overdoin’ it.� Ororo’s eyes narrowed again before she gave her attention to her meal. Logan loaded his fork with rice and a plump chunk of chicken breast and closed his mouth around it. A sound of pleased surprise escaped him. “Not too shabby at all.�

“I found some of Peter’s old cookbooks in the pantry,� she admitted. “Gives me something to do.�

“Hm. So yer tellin’ me yer bored ta death with all the gait training, parallel bars, yoga, physical therapy, weights, and pool workouts I’ve been throwin’ at ya?�

“No. Not bored.� Ororo raked her fork through her rice thoughtfully. “Just restless. Cabin fever.� Heat rushed into Ororo’s cheeks as she measured her words. “I need to fly Logan. I have to get up into the clouds, or I’ll go mad.�

“Ya have ta crawl before you can walk. And ya have ta walk before you can fly.� Snowy, delicately arched brows drew together at him. Logan bared his teeth in retort. “Yer walkin,’ ‘Ro, I ain’t blind. But I can smell yer impatience every moment o’ the day, I can feel yer aches an’ pains, yer radiating it. Ya can’t use yer powers, grand though they are, as a crutch. Yer spine was practically ripped ta shreds. Ya don’t just hop up from a wound like that an’ go back to life as usual, tiltin’ at windmills.�

“You do.� Logan practically choked on his chicken.

“Got a healin’ factor, darlin,’ it ain’t the same…�

“Oh, I think it is.� Ororo’s fork hit the fine Noritake china plate with a harsh clink. “I’ve been doing it your way these past few months. I don’t regret putting myself in your hands. You’ve said it enough times, Logan, there’s no one else I’d rather have at my back. But I’ve been closed up in this bloody house, all but chained to the ground like a deer clamped in a trap. I have no release.� Logan laced his fingers together and propped his chin up on them, leaning in as Ororo made her case. “Don’t pretend that this has been a picnic, that you don’t need to escape just as much. I heard you when you came in last night, or should I say this morning?� Ororo cleared her throat. “I hate it when you do that, you know?�

“When I do what?�

“I know you’re getting tired of me. But I truly despise it, Logan, hate it with every fiber of my being, when you disappear for hours on end and try to drown your sorrows away.�

“Who said I was gettin’ tired of you?� Logan’s brows scowled this time, darkening his eyes to burning coals. “First of all, chickadee, I ain’t tired of you, an’ we went over this before. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna. Number two, last time I checked, I was a grownup, ta say the least. I’m allowed ta sip somethin’ besides Kool-Aid when I get thirsty. And news flash, darlin,’ I’m always gonna have sorrows, whether I try ta make ‘em float away on a tide of the good stuff or not. And ya can’t sit here and preach ta me about how I deal with my feelings, when ya walk around this place with yer best face forward fer everybody else’s benefit but yer own.� Logan’s hackles rose up again as Ororo’s scent changed. Challenge sparked in her eyes, ringing the irises with white sparks.

“Logan,� she began, pushing back from the table.

“Uh-uh.� Logan’s large hand slapped down onto the arm of Ororo’s chair, holding her immobile as he edged close enough to see the flaring of her nostrils and hear the quickening of her heartbeat. Damn. “Yer not goin’ anywhere.�

“Back off,� she snarled. “I’m going outside. You’re allowed parole for good behavior, Wolverine. Now it’s my turn.� He grunted as she grasped his hand and flung it aside to stand, flinching at the faint brush of her leg against his denim-clad knee.

“Ro, yer cane…�

“You know where you can stick it.� Ororo’s back was ramrod-straight as she strode through the kitchen and out the back door.

“Aw, hell. No ya don’t, ‘Ro, get yer sweet ass back here –ORORO!� Logan practically stumbled over his own feet as he chased after her, the thud of his boots across the planks matching the pace of his heart. He caught the door before it could swing shut in his face, just in time to catch Ororo standing, feet planted, in the center of the rose garden. The faint breeze began to pick up.

Logan flung her cane onto the veranda. “Don’t do it.� Ororo turned to face him, only a few yards away. She didn’t stagger. Logan could see the control she was exerting to stand steady, muscles tight as a bowstring. I’ll show you, her eyes shouted at him. I don’t need you.

“You can’t stop me.� A gale force wind nearly deafened him, enhanced senses and all.

Wrong answer. Logan lunged to tackle her, momentarily forgetting to question the wisdom of hurling all three pounds of his bulk at a woman recovering from a spinal injury…

“WHOOUUULFF!� His snug T-shirt did little to cushion him from the friction and grass burn as he landed face and elbows first in the dirt, barely skimming Ororo’s sneaker clad feet as she took flight. Logan spit flecks of grass from his bottom lip as he glared up toward Ororo’s lithe body, growing smaller the higher she soared. “ORORO MUNROE! GET YER ASS BACK DOWN HERE, IF YA LOVE AN’ VALUE LIFE AS MUCH AS YA SAY YA DO!� Half torn between anger and awe, Logan urged his heart to climb back up into his chest cavity from where it had dropped into his shoes.

Ororo hovered well below the clouds, but still relished the yawning gap between her feet and the earth. The air smelled fresh, carrying over the woodsy scent of the pine trees from the north end of the Professor’s property. The wind whistled in her ears and pinkened her cheeks, running its fingers through her rippling hair like a lover.

She needed more.

Even from where he was rooted, speechless, Logan could make out her brilliant smile, even hear the faint echo of her giddy laughter drifting back to him. Ororo wove and dipped through the air like an autumn leaf, going wherever the wind took her. The hairs on his arms stood on end. He sniffed the growing aura of ozone and felt the building static in the air.

SSSSS-SSHRAKA-THOOOOOMMM…

Shit. “Don’t do it,� he hissed through his teeth. There was no turning back. Mesmerized and wary, Logan followed her on foot as she flew, futilely attempting to position himself below her. SNIKT. Snakt. SNIKT. Snakt. Useless. His claws were damned useless. He couldn’t fly.

And she wasn’t supposed to. He might as well have told the sky not to rain…

A strato-cumulus cloud that nearly dwarfed the entire complex rolled across the sky. Ororo’s arms gestured, shaping it to her will, painting the whirling mass as black – almost as black - as the eyes staring incredulously up at her. Ororo pirouetted like a child showing off new Sunday shoes and spun in the air, flinging the first lightning she’d generated in months from the tips of her fingertips.

I don’t need you. I don’t need you. You don’t have to stay, nagged the petulant voice in her head. Her heart had other thoughts on the matter.

You do need him.

He wants to leave. As always. Same tired song. I won’t keep him where he doesn’t want to be. I won’t be the millstone around his neck.

Look at him. This is killing him.

It kills me a little bit every time he walks away. When he hurts himself. This time I’m the one dragging him into the ground. Strangling him.

This is how you repay him? This is how you thank him for his friendship, for his guidance, for all of the times he’s risked his neck to save your hide?

I’m just nudging open the door. I won’t be guilty of locking him in. I don’t own him. No one ever truly has.

Who do you belong to, Wind-Rider?

Logan almost didn’t feel the first fat drops of rain slapping his hair until they dripped down his forehead, dribbling into his eyes and obscuring his vision. Her flight was dizzying and achingly beautiful. Logan recognized the blissful laxness of her limbs and the serene expression on her face for what it was. Ororo had gotten her lips wet and felt that first buzz.

Now she was out on a bender.

Ororo’s potted hyacinths and lilies were nearly drowning in inches of water as the rain poured down. Logan’s thick hair grew slick as a seal’s as the rain ran through it in long runnels, caressing his taut flesh. The lush English roses swayed and bobbed beneath the weight of the torrents, bowing and saluting their mistress. Roses, damp earth, wind and ozone threatened to overwhelm Logan’s senses.

The wind continued to howl its lusty song, buffeting Ororo recklessly. She gave it her head as Logan’s serenade came back to her. I’ve got friends in low places… Ororo threw back her head and laughed at the irony, until she glanced back down to Logan, still staring at her with so much intensity that she nearly crumbled.

If he has to walk away…if he can’t stay, then I’ll just have to give him something to remember me by.

“Witness the fruits of your hard work. I can stand on my own two feet,� she whispered fiercely as she darted higher into the sky and gathered the lightning into herself. Her body was engulfed in whirling, dancing streaks of electricity. Down on the ground, Logan growled, every muscle knotted as he watched and waited for what she would do next.

The pent-up energy crackled loose, unleashed from her glowing white eyes, fingertips, mouth, feet, arcs of it whirling around her like carousel horses.

KRAKKA-THOOOOOMMMMMM…Thunder shook the ground, nearly knocking Logan off his feet. He swayed from the impact, anticipation and a strange, raw thrill darting through his stomach, headed straight for his vitals. The wind tugged at him. Reflexively he unsheathed his claws again, fighting the urge to dig them into something, anything, not knowing if Ororo was angry enough at him to fling him aloft.

“Givin’ me a taste of my own medicine, darlin’?� Logan leaned up against a tall oak and gripped it for support, watching in new alarm as small funnels swept through the courtyard, dancing around the nearby lake. Foolishly, Logan hoped the neighboring properties had some serious flood insurance.

This was tearing at her, all this time. Every time you came stumbling up the front walk, cussin’ and wailin’ about how life kicked yer teeth in, Patch. When ya didn’t let her in. Didn’t open up.

Too damned stubborn, I guess.

Ever think maybe ya shoulda asked her for help, dumb ass?

I’m not supposed ta need her. Not s’posed ta need anybody. Everything I touch, everything I care about dies. Sometimes at my own hand.

Yeah, well, surprise. She’s still breathin,’ maybe even back and better than ever. Look at her. God, she’s magnificent.

Logan’s buzz had already worn off; now he was high. He drank his fill, but was still thirsty.

The lightning took on a life of its own, settling down for a moment, no longer spinning its mad maypole dance around its keeper. It pulsed around her, awaiting her whim. CRAAACCCK! Ororo raised her hand and curled it with a flourish, grasping the storm in a hearty leash and released the lightning again. Ball lightning shot from her outstretched hand, up, up, up…THOOOOOMMMHH! Sparks exploded into pompons of energy that would have made Jubilee jealous.

Ororo’s hand dropped, her arm suddenly limp as a noodle. She passed her hand over her eyes to clear her blurry vision. Tingles ran up and down her arms, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. “Nnnnnnnggggh.� Instinctively, the winds died down a bit. Logan’s stomach flipped over dangerously as she suddenly dropped several yards lower in the sky, as though hovering took more effort than it had a half an hour ago. He ignored the chill that swept over his skin and sank into his bones from the pounding rain, focusing instead on the icy fear in his gut.

“RO?!?� The winds still howled, but no longer drowned out his voice. He let go of the oak and stumbled forward, swaying, waiting…

The rain resumed a steady, even shower as the clouds began to unfurl. The near-demonic, threatening mass eased, no longer grinning at him with bared fangs. Logan watched as Ororo slowly, painstakingly began her descent. Hover. Then drop. Hover. Then drop. Her body tipped and tilted drunkenly, limbs limps, her soaked white tresses trailing behind her in a rippling banner as the distance between her and the unforgiving, punished earth narrowed at perilous speed.

An eerie peace stole over Ororo. Flying. I’m…falling… The wind made her T-shirt flutter against her flesh.

Logan.

LOGAN.

Oh, Goddess, no, have to…to…

Ororo’s eyes flew open now. Logan’s pulse pounded as he wove back and forth, bringing himself beneath her, enveloped by her shadow.

Can’tmiss. Can’tmiss. Can’tmiss. Can’tmiss. He was nearly blown off his feet by the force of the updraft that Ororo summoned at the last half-second, practically knocking him over as she cushioned and slowed her own fall. She was spent. Logan thought he heard her moaning as he stretched his arms up, praying to God that Ororo wouldn’t be feeling it in the morning when…

“OOOOOOGhhh!� FHWAAAMMM! Ororo crashed squarely into his chest, nearly taking his head off as her crown connected with his jaw. He staggered back several steps until he tripped over his own feet, taking her with him. Logan’s teeth bit down on his tongue as his back hit the grass, but he didn’t care. His arms shuddered, clenching around Ororo, clutching her to him as he groaned his relief. Ororo’s hair was plastered over the side her face, tickling his cheek. Logan counted the shuddering breaths that sawed in and out of her lips.

For another few minutes, Logan and Ororo remained there, listening to the rain until it began to subside to a steady, gentle shower. The clouds lightened to a dove gray.

Be honest with her, Patch. Tell her.

“What the flamin’ hell were ya thinkin,’ ‘Ro, pullin’ that stunt? What the fuck did ya think ya possibly had ta prove?�

That wasn’t what ya were s’posed ta…

Fuck off. Quit interruptin’ me.

Suit yerself, genius.

Ororo winced, stiffening against him as she struggled to sit up. “Logan –“

“Stay put.� Logan’s arms clamped around her, cutting off her escape. Ororo let out a faint “oof� as she was pulled back into his solid bulk. She was so dizzy. On second though, perhaps it was best to just lay her head against his chest, after all. Logan tucked the top of her head under his chin, attempting to make her more comfortable even as he bit back a litany of curses.

“Look at me,� he ordered. He felt her shake her head. Logan wasn’t in the mood for another round of cat and mouse. “Dammit, woman, look at me! Look me in the eye. It’s the least ya can do after scarin’ the hell outta me. AGAIN. This’ll be the second time in as many months that I’ll have had ta cart yer soakin’ wet carcass back into the house, just ‘cause ya couldn’t be up front with me, talk ta me.� Ororo’s eyes snapped open, peering up into his face, drinking in the firm, masculine line of his darkly stubbled jaw and flare of his nostrils.

“I don’t…need your help anymore.� Raindrops dribbled off the tip of Ororo’s nose, tickling her upper lip. “You don’t have to stay behind on my account, if you need to get away. It’s been hard, Logan. I know how it is for y-you, being pent up inside, trying to help me. I know taking some of our workouts outside has helped, but…you need room to move, to breathe. I n-never wanted to crowd you. Smother you.�

“Ah, shit.� Ororo’s eyes grew round before her brows beetled together, raising her face to peer down at him. Logan reached up to brush an errant lock of hair off her forehead. All of it had escaped its orderly ponytail, leaving it hanging in utter disarray and flecked with bits of grass from her impromptu landing. Logan’s fingers raked through the wet, wavy mass, his chest rumbling beneath Ororo’s hands. “How can you sit here an’ say that? What’s this all about?�

“You came home so late. This isn’t the first time, lately, and…�

“…an’ don’t think fer one goddamned minute it’s about you, or at least not about helpin’ you.� Logan’s hand fisted in her hair, abruptly tugging her closer. “There’s a few things ya need ta understand ‘bout me, ‘Ro. It was hard watching ya almost die. Shit, I almost lost you, Rogue, and the Cajun all in one fell swoop. For what seemed like the longest, most hellish seconds of my life, you died, ‘Ro. I couldn’t save ya, and you died on me.� His voice cracked, choked with emotion. “D’ya have any idea how many times I’ve watched the ones that I love die on me? An’ how it twists the knife in my gut when it’s you?� His fingers actually trembled as they stroked a delicate, searing path down her cheek.

“Don’t you think I know how that feels?� Logan’s pupils dilated briefly. Ororo felt something in him change, his heart beginning to hammer anew. She traced the edge of his soaked neckline, greedily relishing the textures of the fabric, the sprinkling of dark hairs over his collarbones. “Every time…every time you walk out that door, it’s…too…too…� Her lips trembled before she dropped her head, biting her knuckles where they had fisted themselves in his shirt. “Too much. Too much.� She shook her head and sniffled, avoiding his eyes.

“What…?�

“I can’t compete with your wanderlust, I can’t just stand by every time you walk out on me and pretend it isn’t killing me. I can’t keep letting you go, knowing damned well that you may not come back. I can’t hold you back, and I can’t let go,� she babbled, her deep rasp rising on a wail. Logan’s fierce, restraining grip on Ororo to keep her from ambling off dissolved into an embrace that was tender and thorough.

“So that’s what that was all about? Ya wanted ta strut yer stuff an’ let me off the hook?� Ororo nodded miserably.

“Ororo.� His voice was quiet and reflective. Ororo raised herself onto her elbow and faced him again. His use of her formal name surprised her. “Remember that day in the infirmary, when I promised I wouldn’t be satisfied with your rehab til you could knock me on my ass?� She nodded, then understanding dawned in her eyes. Her lips parted in a faint gasp. “Ya passed with flying colors.� Before she could ask him to elaborate, even though it was obvious, he hauled her against him, her full length pliant and pressed into every contour of his body, angling his head up to capture her mouth in his.

“Mmmph.� Logan devoured the throaty sound of shock from her lips. It had been rough. Weeks of trying not to give in, trying not to be distracted by how he felt. Didn’t help. She’d worked her way into his system like a slow drink of whiskey, and he was craving another taste. He nibbled insistently at her lips as they dropped open like flower petals. He pressed his advantage as his tongue swept inside, stroking hers in a sensual dance. Logan took his time sampling every flavor she had to offer. He raked his fingers through her hair, tugging at it as he kissed and nibbled his way down her chin, memorizing the shape of it with his teeth. Ororo whimpered with longing. His mouth was hot as it began its journey down the slender column of her neck.

“You’re…making it hard…to continue this discussion.�

“Talk’s over,� he assured her. His lips crept up, his tongue laving her throat back up to her sensitive earlobe. He held it captive between his teeth as he suckled it, breathing hot swirls into the canal as he inhaled her heady scent. She arched and squirmed against him, reveling in the friction that caused. Arousal and heat pooled in her feminine center as she rubbed her body along his. Logan felt a tightening of his flesh where Ororo’s Lycra-clad softness moved rhythmically, primitively over the bulge she helped create. Ororo’s palms flattened against his chest as she explored the pebbled nubs beneath his shirt. Ororo couldn’t stand it anymore and ducked her head, nipping him through the fabric of his T-shirt, teasing the morsel and enflaming him. Logan bucked in surprise.

“Logan, I…I never thanked you for all you’ve done for me,� Ororo murmured as she levered herself up, loathe to pull away from his warmth. The clouds finally dispersed, allowing spears of sunlight to piece the gloom. Ororo’s hair began to spring into curly tendrils as it slowly dried, clinging to her in a graceful spill. She straddled Logan, fidgeting against him and nestling him against her softness. He groaned loudly as she settled herself, his hips pressing up to meet her.

“Thought we were done talkin’, ‘Ro.� His fingers dug into her thighs, holding her in place as he writhed beneath her. Ororo threw her head back on a moan, her eyes fluttering shut as she tested the movement again.

“Logan…�

“Yeah, darlin’?�

“I’m…going to thank you now.� Her pelvis rocked, stroking him with her softness as she stared down into his eyes.

“Shit,� he whispered. Ororo peeled off her sopping shirt and flung it onto the grass with a soft plop. Logan trailed one fingertip lazily over her ribcage, down her flat belly, unable to believe his luck. Her hands reached down to work on the button fly of his jeans, jerking them open, one at a time. Her efforts were leisurely and deliberate. Logan’s chiseled lips quirked up into a smile that left Ororo no doubts as to whether he wanted to stay. Ororo yanked the hem of his T-shirt from his waistband and eased it up over his taut abdomen, revealing the narrow, dark happy trail and inny navel, rippling pectorals and the fine mat of curling dark hair. Logan helped her to remove it, reaching behind his neck to pull the collar over his head. His shirt joined hers on the sodden grass. Ororo sucked in a breath at the feast laid out before her. She lightly flicked her nail against a café au lait-colored nipple, watching it harden.

Ororo ran her hands down his chest, savoring the feel of him. She leaned down to kiss him again, framing him with her arms as her hair tented their faces. Her hands worked their way into his thick, crisp waves of hair, clutching it as her their tongues swirled together again. Logan couldn’t get enough of her, of this infuriating angel who had, quite literally, fallen from the sky. He stroked her smooth skin, caressing her arms, shoulders, feathering his fingertip over her collarbones. His fingers trailed between her breasts and landed on the front-opening hook of her pale blue satin bra. He tugged on it, then flexed the clasp out, allowing it to pop open. Her breasts spilled free from their restraint, and he gratefully caught them in his palms. Ororo jerked and moaned against him, arching into his touch. Logan kneaded them, hefting their weight and roundness, running his thumbs against the turgid peaks.

Still thirsty, urged that voice in his head.

Logan gripped her bottom, kneading it, pressing and grinding her against him before he scooted her up, bringing her breasts closer for more thorough inspection. They were a double scoop of mocha perfection, each one crowned with a chocolate drop. They’d left the table without getting to dessert. Logan remedied that now. He drew one straining nipple into his mouth and suckled it, making Ororo quiver and buck. She threw her head back. “Goddess help me. Logan…feels…so right. I beg you, don’t stop.�

“Never,� he grated out. He laved, nipped and sucked his prize as Ororo continued to rock herself against him. The bulge beneath her seemingly grew, hardening even more. Logan moved onto her other breast, giving it equal attention so it wouldn’t feel neglected. He urged Ororo on, groping and kneading her rump. Each time she rubbed against him, her pelvis nudged the open waistband of his jeans lower. Ororo’s mouth traveled over his forehead, temples, cheekbones, nibbling the crowns, drifting over his eyelids and tasting his lashes. They skimmed down the length of his nose, pecking the very tip before she hovered at the corners of his mouth, tasting his smile. Ororo nudged his jawline with her nose, encouraging him to show his throat. He gave her easy access and gave thanks with another loud groan as she explored his pulse. Lower and lower she crept, leaving no inch of him untasted or unloved. Her nipples grazed his chest, then his stomach, until she was perched between his thighs that had spread open of their own accord.

“Ya don’t have ta –“

“Hush.� Logan nearly came off the ground as Ororo freed his straining erection from the stubborn denim and kissed the plump head.

“O…kayyy,� he choked out. Her palms skimmed over his washboard stomach and curled into the nest of springy dark hair as she worked on him, engulfing him in the heat of her mouth. Her tongue stroked and caressed him. Logan fought for some semblance of control, but her tongue was committing sweet torture.

Ororo lingered between his thighs, raising them to give herself better access, and wrapping her hands around them, occasionally nuzzling her cheek against the sensitive inner flesh. He tasted salty, tangy and entirely male. His shaft moved and bobbed within her wetness of its own volition, the engorged head pulsing against the roof of her mouth. Ororo. Just when Logan thought it couldn’t get any better, Ororo shifted herself, cradling his balls in the nook of her breasts, cushioning him as she bent back down to her task. Ororo’s mouth ringed him firmly, sheathing him, taking away all semblance of reason. Ragged sounds were wrung from him as he clutched his fists in her silky white hair, tugging her as close as he could.

“Can’t…keep this up, ‘Ro. Please,� he hissed. “Need…inside…of you. Want you…so much right now. Now, please. PLEASE.� Ororo released her lips from him with a small pop. His shaft jutted up, stiff and fully erect. Logan flinched as the cool afternoon air hit his damp, tingling flesh. Ororo twisted around and dug her hands into the waistband of the stubborn Lycra, shucking the shorts and her light blue thong all at once. Like a lioness sizing up her prey, she crawled toward him on all fours and dipped her lips to him again, barely grazing the tip.

“Logan? Do you need me?�

“Y-yesssss.� She wrapped her lips around him again, giving another teasing pull. Logan dug his fingers into the ground beneath him. “God, yes.� She inched up again, plunging the tip of her tongue into his navel.

“Tell me again.�

“I need you, ‘Ro.� Mercilessly she bit the heaving muscles over his ribcage, steaming them with her breath.

“Again. I need to hear it, Logan.� First one, then the other nipple met her tender assault before she dragged her tongue up to his collarbones. “I need you to need me. As I’ve needed you all this time.� She feathered kisses against his Adam’s apple. Logan cupped her face, his eyes piercing in their intensity. His thumb skimmed her lips, parting them. Her teeth scraped the tip.

“I need you, and I want you so much it hurts. I wanted ta wait til you were strong enough, sweetheart, but I’m not strong enough ta hold back for another goddamn second.� Logan gripped her hips and levered her over his erection and drew her down in one thrust, sheathing himself in her depths. Ororo’s sharp cry rang out as he filled her, stretching her, making her complete. They fitted together like two pieces of a puzzle. Ororo paused, enjoying the fullness for one languorous moment before covering his mouth with hers. Then she began to move her hips, and he was lost. The grass tickled Ororo’s kneecaps as she pressed her length against him sinuously, making love to him tenderly as she watched his face. Logan’s arms were steel bands wrapped around her torso, his short nails scrabbling down her spine as she rose up and lowered herself, again and again. Her face loomed over his, more beautiful than he could describe as she gasped and chanted his name. “Logaannnnn…�

“Yer so tight, so hot. Dammit, darlin’, ya feel so damned good. Like silk.� Her breasts scraped against his chest, the friction of his coarse hair against her nipples driving her mad. Ororo felt that telltale sensation in her cervix as he pushed himself into her, matching her rhythm. He groped her buttock and squeezed, sucking her lower lip between his as they fell open on a deep moan. Ororo felt her world tipping on its axis as Logan thrust her upright, his hands locked on her upper arms as he helped her to sit astride him.

“Ride me, ‘Ro. Ride me hard and fast.� He thrust himself up, burying himself in her warmth. Ororo growled her assent in her throat and eased her palms up his stomach, stroking and teasing him before she planted them flat against his chest. Before Logan could get his bearings, Ororo pulled herself almost all the way off of him, then plunged back down. The cords of muscle in Logan’s throat strained as he clenched his jaw, then roared his approval to the sky. Every thrust of her hips was smooth and precise. Her clitoris rubbed against him each time they made contact, her walls coddling and squeezing the length of him. Logan reached down to ease her torment, teasing the tiny pearl with his thumb, now slick with her juices. Ororo’s hips undulated, spurred on by Logan’s choked demand to go faster. Harder. Her womb began to shudder as she felt Logan tense inside her walls, nearing his own climax. She was a majestic sight, hair long and wild, firm, generous breasts jiggling with the momentum, nearly incoherent words falling from her mouth.

Ororo was knocked off-balance and held immobile as Logan wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him as he convulsed. Ororo buried her face in his neck as his spasms rocked her, triggering her own orgasm after a few more thrusts. She flexed against him, her guttural cries vibrating through his flesh as she bit him.

All was quiet. Logan blinked up at the fair sky, dotted with sparse clouds. He almost laughed out loud when he saw the double rainbow streaking across the horizon.

He didn’t expect any less.

Ororo’s breathing began to slow to a normal pace. Logan’s member retracted back to normal proportions and slipped from its nest. He nuzzled Ororo’s forehead, kissing her and lavishing her with caresses.

“Logan?� He almost couldn’t believe that she had enough energy left to speak.

“Yeah, darlin’?�

“You realize now that even though I don’t need anymore help with my recovery, I won’t be able to let you go now.�

“Yeah, I kinda figured.� Logan pondered something for a moment. “Er…’Ro, does this mean ya don’t wanna kick me outta the mansion anymore?� She pinched him. “I’ll take that as a yes.�

“Mmmm.� She raised her face to his, stroking his cheek. “Logan? Does this count as crowding you?�

“Hell, no!� Logan swallowed her giggles as he pulled her down for a bruising kiss. “But maybe ya could do me a favor, darlin’,� he suggested.

“Name it.�

“Could ya untangle me from my pants?� Ororo’s head spun around, her eyes darting to Logan’s jeans, still soaked and bunched up below his knees. She could see the toes of his leather boots sticking out and lost it, and unladylike crack of laughter exploding from her throat.

“Glad yer enjoyin’ yerself.�

“I’ll (giggle) do better than that, Logan (guffaw). Give me (hee) a moment.� Ororo reluctantly left his embrace and with some effort, stood up and reached for his hand. Logan hefted himself up with only slight assistance, not attempting to walk. Ororo sighed, still smiling at the sight that he made.

“Now it’s my turn to haul your wet carcass back into the house,� Ororo promised, wrapping her arms around his waist and inhaling the scent of his sun-warmed skin. Logan groaned and looked down, startled to see himself hovering above the ground. Ororo floated them up to the balcony of her loft, where she commenced to…untangle him.