Secret Burdens
Chapter Six: Throwing the Gauntlet
“The challenge begins. Can Logan keep up?”
* * *
“Thank you again, Ororo. These records will be extremely helpful at the conference next week.” Hank McCoy smiled as he held up a manila folder of papers before her. He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his blue nose.
Ororo smiled over her shoulder, striding across her office to set her own stack of papers atop her mahogany desk. “Of course, Hank. If you think of any other files that Charles might still have logged away that could help you, please, do not hesitate to ask. I know it helped with your lecture in Chicago.” She sighed, dropping the stack atop the wood of the desk and reached back to brush a falling strand of hair behind her ear.
“So which department of Headmistress Hell do those papers belong to?” Hank chuckled.
Ororo quirked a smile at his question, propping her hands up to lean on the desk. “They are the financial forms for this year’s incoming students.”
Hank dramatically winced. “Ooh, ouch.”
Ororo let out a laugh and turned to him, walking over to stand in front of him. “You know, you could always stay and help me out with these,” she offered, one eyebrow raised.
“Well, I guess I’ll be going, Ororo.” He gave a short salute, one leg already for the door.
“Oh stop,” she admonished, smacking one of his furry arms.
He smiled at her. “You know I would be more than happy to assist you Ororo.”
She nodded silently, raising her hands to grasp his. “I know, Hank. I know. However, your new position does not allow for such time and freedom. It is alright. I appreciate everything you do for me here, and for the students.”
“No need. It was not only Charles’ dream, you know.” Hank cocked his head in her direction, clasping her hands beneath his larger ones. He held them for a moment, before Ororo pulled away and went to remove her suit jacket.
“So,” she started, resting the jacket over the back of her chair, “how long will you be away this time?”
“The original plan is for three weeks but if all goes well with this conference, we can hope to attend the New Orleans one before we head back north.” He shrugged. “It could be a couple months perhaps. And how will you fare, my friend?”
Ororo placed her hands on her hips. “Busily, I suppose.” She huffed a breath of air out that blew another reluctant white strand from her face. “But…,” she looked around her office a moment, “I should find something else really, to occupy my time in a more…relaxing manner.”
Hank rubbed his chin for a moment. “When was the last time you had a Danger Room session?”
Ororo blinked. “Well, I suppose since before…” she trailed off.
“Since before,” Hank nodded. It didn’t need saying since before Jean.
“That is actually a very good idea, Hank. Exercise is always therapeutic for the mind. And I have always believed that a healthy body is the start to a healthy life.” Ororo dropped her hands from her hips. “How about I walk you out, Hank? I have to head back to my room to grab some clothes for the Danger Room anyway.”
“I would love the pleasure of your company, Ororo.” He grinned, his canines glinting in the light as he held out his arm for Ororo to take. She walked forward, linking her arm with his.
Ororo smiled brilliantly at him. “Then, shall we?”
* * *
“Hey, Furball, you sneakin’ out on me?”
Hank turned to find Logan striding across the courtyard, an arm raised in his direction. Hank chuckled and pocketed his keys, turning to Logan.
Logan stepped into the open garage and stopped in front of Hank.
“There’s no escape from you then is there?” Hank smiled, his hands in his pockets.
“Nah, I’m too quick for that.” Logan folded his arms across his chest. “You out?”
“Yes, for a couple months maybe. I’ll be sure to send you a postcard though, sweetie,” Hank grinned jovially.
Logan growled. “Watch it, or you might not make yer plane.”
“And here I am thinking Ororo’s the dangerous one.”
Logan raised a brow. “I wouldn’t say she ain’t.”
Hank laughed. “Just keep her in one piece for me while I’m away,” he replied, patting Logan’s arm with his large blue hand.
Logan rubbed the back of his neck. “Why does everyone think I’m the one doing damage here?”
Hank eyed him skeptically. “Because you’re not exactly known for your peace and serenity, Logan. Or your self-control.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Logan waved a hand at Hank, “sure, that’s cute. Look, speaking of Storm, you know where she is? I gotta talk to her.”
Hank narrowed his eyes. “Do I really want to tell you?” He more mused it to himself then to Logan.
“Goddamn it, Hank, I’m not a fucking bomb.” Logan dropped his arms from across his chest. “I can talk to people you know.”
“I know, Logan. Calm down.” Hank’s lips curled into a smirk, hidden slightly by the rampant blue fur of his face. “Just don’t destroy the Danger Room when you find her.”
Logan raised a brow, then started for the garage door.
Hank watched him stride away. “Promise me, Logan,” he said a bit louder.
Logan turned just in time to send a smirk and a wink Hank’s way before he was out the door and into the mansion. Hank shook his head and pulled his keys from his pocket, readying his car to leave.
* * *
When Logan walked through the doors of the Danger Room, he immediately heard the low thuds coming from the exercise room. He walked through the practice section and past the computer control room to the last room on the end. He stepped into the open threshold and looked about the room. It was the mansion’s own personal gym, used as preparation before any sessions in the Danger Room. Logan scratched the rough stubble lining his chin as he perked his ears to pinpoint where the thuds were coming from. He glanced around all the different pieces of equipment and caught movement in the far corner.
He knew it was Storm. He could smell her sweat and hear the puffs of air escaping her mouth from where he stood. “Permission to enter, captain?” he fairly yelled, grinning.
There was a subtle grunt and then the thuds stopped, followed by a heavy rhythmic breathing. It filled his ears.
He didn’t wait for an answer, stepping around the heavy equipment until he came to the far corner where he saw Storm leaning one arm on the edge of a punching bag, her other propped up on her hip. He could see the strips of tape around her knuckles and realized where the thuds had come from. She was wearing a sleek pair of cotton gym pants and some sort of gym sports bra, so that Logan could see the sweat beading down her dark stomach. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, some stark white strands plastered to her forehead with the sweat. She looked up when she saw Logan’s heavy boots enter her vision, her chest heaving with the breaths.
She straightened a bit, but still leaned on the bag. “Oh by all means, please, come on in, Logan,” she said, her eyes slightly narrowed.
He crossed his arms across his broad chest, leaning on the wall beside her. “Don’ mind if I do.”
Ororo frowned slightly. “I am in the middle of exercise, Logan, warming up for a Danger Room session.”
Logan glanced at her apparel. “Yeah, I can tell.”
Her frown deepened. “Can I help you, Logan?”
He sniffed, rubbing his nose. “Nah, actually, it ain’t about me.”
She cocked her head a bit, pulling up to plant both hands on her hips. “What do you mean?”
Logan pushed off from the wall and leveled his eyes on her. “I wanted to talk to ya about Rogue, Storm.”
She brushed some strands behind her ear, steadying her heavy breathing. “Go on.” She began to peel the tape from her knuckles.
Logan sighed. “I know you let her finish out the year, but summer’s coming. That means next school year’s coming too.”
“I am aware of this. What is your point?”
“My point is that she took the cure. She ain’t a mutant anymore. So…” he trailed off a moment.
Ororo stared at him. “So…”
Logan rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, Storm, this is the only home she knows. You can’t just kick her out ‘cause her genes have changed. She’s still Rogue. She’s still one of us.”
Ororo set aside the tape, rubbing her raw hands. “No, she is not still one of us,” she said stiffly.
Logan huffed. “That’s bullshit, Storm, and you know it. She saved our lives when she flew that jet to us, after Striker would have had us die,” he growled. He pointed a finger in her direction. “You owe her your life, Storm.”
Ororo glared hotly at his finger. “Remove your finger from my face, Logan,” she said lowly.
Logan stared at her hard for a second, before dropping his hand to his side. “You at least owe her that much.”
Ororo closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, calmly. “Logan, I will not raise my voice with you. I am through with our arguments and petty disagreements. But do not presume to think that you can guilt me into a decision.”
“Look, I get it. I know.” He raised his hands up in surrender. “I ain’t here to push you in another corner. Can we just…discuss this? Calmly?”
Ororo reigned in her frustration and nodded. “Yes. Just be aware that should you push me I have no qualms about using force, Logan. Or oranges.” She cracked a smirk.
Logan narrowed his eyes at her. “Quit using that shit. I don’t use things against you, darlin’.”
“I will stop if you promise to stop swearing, at least in my presence. Deal?” She stretched out one graceful hand.
Logan eyed her warily for a second, then reached out and roughly shook her hand. “Deal.”
“Good.” Ororo withdrew her hand. “Now, as I said before, she is no longer one of the X-Men and ““
Logan growled lowly. “Storm “ “
“But,” she raised a hand to stop his interruption, and Logan glared at her for the silent command, “that only means that she has forfeited her place on the team. I cannot allow a mere human to place ranks and thus put the rest of us in danger. On this, I will not compromise.” She drew in a deep breath, thankful that for once Logan was shutting up. “That is an entirely different situation than school placement.”
Logan raised a brow at her words. “So…” he started hopefully.
“So,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “Rogue is free to finish out whatever schooling she feels necessary here at the mansion before she attends university. I am fully aware that this is the only place she has felt accepted by others and it is not my place to dislodge someone from that kind of belongingness. It is not something I could ever sanction.”
Logan dropped his arms when she had finished and slowly, she saw his teeth come to light as his lips pulled back into a wide smile. “Don’ worry, darlin’. I won’t tell people ’bout your bleeding heart.”
She raised a brow. “Nor I you.”
Logan clapped his hands together. “Well, now that that’s done with, you ready for that Danger session?”
Ororo raised a finger into the air. “One more thing, Logan. There is, however, someone else whom I am afraid can no longer leech off of the mansion’s hospitality.”
Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “Who’s that?”
She smirked at him, and Logan had a funny feeling he didn’t want to ask. “You, Logan.”
His mouth dropped and he spluttered for a moment, before balling his fists and almost shouting, “Leeching?”
“Yes. After taking a look at the financial reports for this year I am afraid that I have to make budget cuts, and seeing as you are staying here on a full welcome, without putting anything of your own toward the mansion’s upkeep, you seem to be the perfect option for my first cut.”
Logan could not believe she was saying this. “You’re tryin’ to slyly kick me out on my ass!”
“Language, Logan, remember? Or I bring out the oranges.”
“Oh fuck that,” he waved a hand through the air, stepping away from her so he wouldn’t have the urge to punch her.
“I am, however, more than willing to make a few concessions myself.” She had said it so softly, so yieldingly, that Logan had to turn to look at her.
She was staring at the ground, her finger playing with a loose strand of white hair. “You would always be welcomed here Logan, and provided with anything you would need, if you would concede to becoming part of the school’s faculty.” She looked up then, her bright irises catching Logan’s.
He paused, squinting at her in confusion. “Are you asking me to be a teacher at this little playpen?”
She placed her hands on her hips again, a signal that Logan was slowly starting to recognize as a defensive position.
“I mean ‘school’.”
Ororo swallowed thickly. “We take very meticulous care of the staff here, and you would be providing support and education to our students, many of whom already feel secure with you here at the school. You would be provided with a salary and housing and your place on the X-Men team would be permanent, regardless of whether you left your post at any time in the future.”
“A teacher?” he asked again, slowly.
Ororo huffed slightly. “Yes. Is it that difficult of a concept to grasp?”
“No, it’s just…” he raised his brows, “what the hell am I supposed to teach?”
“Whichever subject you wish, provided I am given some form of verification of your competency in it.”
Logan laughed. “Sure, that’s rich. Look, can I think about it?”
“Of course. I had not expected a quick acceptance. There will be, however, a few stipulations should you accept the position.
Logan rolled his eyes. “Figures.”
Storm held out a finger. “First, there will be consequences for foul and disruptive language in the presence of students.”
Logan held up his hands. “What?”
“Second,” Ororo counted out her second finger, “there will be no smoking of any tobacco or nicotine products within any of the mansion’s facilities, secret or not.”
“Well, damn.”
“Third, the school refrigerator will no longer house your personal supply of prohibited alcoholic beverages.”
“Can’t say ‘beer’, Storm?” He chuckled.
”Fourth,” she ground out. “There will be no exceptions to the Faculty Code of Conduct. Either follow the rules Logan, or get out.”
Logan shook his head. “You’re no fun, Storm. Any other laws you’re laying down here or are we done?”
“Oh there will be more, and should you decide to stay on staff I will provide you with full documentation of said rules. Until then, just one last one.”
“Oh, I’m dying to hear it,” he deadpanned.
Storm dropped the hand she had been counting on and pulled her shoulders back as she stared at him. “You must always be honest and forthcoming with me, or this relationship will crumble.”
Logan was silent. He watched as her eyes suppressed the familiar white when emotion clouded her powers, and figured that this was her way of opening the gates. Intentionally. With full knowledge of who she was letting through.
The gauntlet had been thrown.
But was he up to the challenge?
Logan swallowed, breaking the stillness as he raised his hand once more in front of her. “You have my word.”
Ororo’s shoulders relaxed softly, and she smiled, fully, without hesitation. Logan realized he wanted to see it more often. She reached forward and took his rough hand in her own slender one. She could feel the rough callousness of his palms, and he the tender skin of her fingertips.
“I know, “she answered finally.
Logan pulled his hand back. “So, how’s that Danger session soundin’ ‘bout now?”
Ororo cocked a brow at him. “I remember the last time I allowed you into our Danger Room.”
Logan smiled wolfishly at her. “Is that a yes?”
She smirked back at him. “Only if you can handle it, Wolverine.”
“Then what’re you waiting for, darlin’?”
Ororo raised her chin. “Computer, generate scenario TS184.” She turned to Logan. “Do not hold back.”
Logan’s eyes flashed as the walls of the room changed to the holographic images of a burning Westchester. “Never with you.”
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