[Reviews - 14]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story |
Printer Chapter or Story |
ePub eBook Chapter or Story |

Has been viewed 1875 times

- Text Size +




It was two days before Jean and Scott would come back. The thought bothered him, but he wasn’t kicking to head up to Alberta as badly as he’d been in the beginning. It was difficult knowing she’d never want him but he was getting there. Jean would always hold that special place in his heart; she was the first person to treat him like a person during a dark time. He’d still love her but it wasn’t romantic any longer. It was more of a friendly love, different from how he felt about Rouge, but similar in many ways.

A soft nudge brought him back from his musings. Storm was walking past, carrying a new plant. Hank gave her clippings of a Bengal Clock Flower to grow, knowing how she liked the twining plants. He offered to help her pot them if in return she would let him watch a very important boxing match on her plasma. Whenever he tried to watch the television in the common rooms, the violent channels were blocked, and boxing was deemed one of them. She agreed, but begrudgingly so. Potting plants took longer when one considered the flow of the greenhouse. Everything had to balance or else it would become cluttered.

He bent down beside her and watched as she kneaded the soil. He copied her movements precisely and placed the dirt back over the roots. When Logan stopped to think about it, his sticking around was largely due to the resident goddess. She kept him occupied so the dark thoughts couldn’t sink in, and if they did she simply refuted them. It made her special and totally unique. Ororo, or Ro, kept him guessing. Whenever he thought he had her pinned, she’d do something amazing and out of character while maintaining consistency. It was a dichotomy that was confusing and spellbinding, difficult and effortless.

A month was nearly gone. A month he assumed he’d spend in Canada drinking and bed hopping while hopelessly pinning. Now he was sitting in dirt, joking about how finicky she was over plants, happy. Wolverine was happy. Logan wasn’t foolish enough to think this was the happiness he wanted because the beast was still alone, but it was a start. The man found a companion. He was finally making a friend that understood him. Whenever Logan stumbled, Ororo was right there, her smile tender and only for him.

And that was becoming a problem-- his stupid crush on Ro. It was unintentional, starting with the day he saw her in that bikini. His eyes gobbled up her body, loving how spectacularly feminine it was. And then he got the chance to help her braid her hair and marveled at how soft it was, like clouds. He loved long hair, but Jean cut hers short; Ororo’s touched her waist. And it was white like snow. Red was absolutely gorgeous, but you could put that in a bottle. Nobody could get perfectly white hair.

“Thank you, Logan.”

He faced her, loving that sweet smile. It was his and nobody else’s. Logan knew because he watched how she interacted with the other students and staff. She had one for everyone and each one was genuine. Jean’s smiles were warm, but they weren’t personal. Scott was the only one with a customized smile. Logan used to be jealous, but it wasn’t so bad now. They were married so it made sense she look at him like that.

“As long as I watch my match later, don’t mention it. Really. Don’t mention this.”

Her eyes twinkled. He liked that. Blue eyes were nice, but hers were so different. They were the color of the sky, something no one else had. And they were clear and bright and expressive and mysterious. When they shared a silence, he’d look at them and try and map the emotions, but there were so many he’d get lost. It was beautiful and heartbreaking, and he wished she could let go without worrying about harming the world. But that was something else they shared. They were always restrained. That much was becoming apparent with day he spent with her.

She rose to her full height and wiped her palms. as customary, she offered him her satiny hand. He took it and rose, holding it a second longer than necessary. Tanned hands went in pockets immediately after. They walked across the great lawn when as customary, Ororo grunted. “I smell awful.”

And as customary, he smirked. “You smell like you always do.”

Ororo glanced at him nervously. “I sincerely hope that isn’t a bad thing.”

“It ain’t.”

Blowing out a defeated breath, she rose her arms. “I’m going to take a shower. I shall see you later, Wolverine,” she teased, flying up to her terrace on her winds.

“See you tonight, Storm.”

He waltzed inside, totally at ease. “Yah’re smiling,” Rouge commented from her seat on the couch.

“Good to see ya, too, Marie,” he answered, walking to the fridge and pulling out a beer hidden there. He didn’t touch the six pack, that was for later. He popped the tab and began guzzling the drink as if it were water. It didn’t take long for her to join him in the kitchen.

“Yah’ve been smilin’ a lot more since hanging ‘round Ms. Munroe,” she started.

“Marie, whatever it is yer trying ta say, spit it out. I’ve gotta get in the shower.” He licked a stray bead of Molson from his mouth.

“Ah’m not trying to say anything, Logan. Ah’m just mentioning it. It’s nice-- yah bein’ friends with her.” Rouge stepped around the counter and folded her arms to her chest. “Yah needed one. I can’t be there for yah all the time.” Logan ruffled her hair affectionately.

“Startin’ ta feel the same way.”

But, God, did he hope it was just a stupid crush.



Ororo hunched over Charles’ desk, pointing at a plan. It’d been something she’d been considering long before Alkali Lake, before Jean and Scott’s wedding. She always needed space, but after him the need became more persistent. Ororo loved her loft, but it was still too close. It held too many memories of a time she didn’t care to repeat. And she loved Jean and Scott with her whole heart, but their love was something she just couldn’t be around. It wasn’t bitter at this point or even jealousy, it wasn’t depressing or irritating. Their love was sweet, but it was a reminder.

Time passed and Ororo was able to stop feeling those dark emotions, but she still wished to have her own place. She wanted her own kitchen and her own living room and her own fireplace to snuggle beside. She wanted to be away from the constant need for a little while so she could pamper herself within four walls. The attic was suitable, but it wasn’t perfect.

She needed her space. “I imagine we can split the room into two or leave it as one,” Charles nodded, accepting her proposal. “Are you certain this is what you want?”

Yes, without a doubt. She might be young, but this was something she would do eventually. Might as well expedite the process. “Of course, Charles. We’re taking in more students and we can’t keep breaking the rooms into thirds. Besides, I’ve always admired homeowners. Even if it involves paying rent.”

“Ororo, my dear, you know I’d never make you pay rent. It was yours the minute you asked about it,” Charles smiled, amused at the prospect.

“Oh, Charles, you know I wouldn’t feel right--”

“You never felt right about any gift. Remember how long it took for me to convince you the greenhouse was for you to cultivate without growing food for the house?” he chuckled as she blushed even darker. “Consider it a trade, then. You’ve helped me with the students-- and Logan-- selflessly and I give you the land. And if you haven’t noticed, it won’t be a great loss to me giving you the place. No one but you visits it. I must admit I even forgot it was there.” Charles turned his attention to the floor plans she dragged up. What she wanted to do wasn’t excessive, but he’d make sure it was perfect for her.

Ororo nodded, accepting his offer. “If we start now, by the time winter ends, I should have it finished.”

“A perfect Christmas gift to you, but I believe it can be done faster. I found someone to check it out tomorrow afternoon. But for now, I believe you have a very excited Wolverine waiting for you in your room. My bet is on Froch, but everyone is assuming Dirrel will take the win. Again.” Ororo gaped at him. “I’m an old man, but I still read the sports section.”

Ororo threw her head back and laughed, taking the schematics with her. Placing a quick kiss to his bald head, she left and headed up the stairs. When she arrived to her room she heard the TV and a clap from powerful hands. A smile spread her lips. Charles’ ability to know things astounded her, and he hadn’t even breached her mind. She sent a gentle nudge to him, and received his warmth back in response.

“Flamin’ hell, Ro, ya gonna stand outside that door all night?” he shouted. Ororo received another nudge, this time with laughter in it. Apparently Charles found Wolverine’s rude attitude just as funny as she. Ororo stepped inside and saw Logan camped out on her couch, popcorn, chips and dip, pretzels, and beer on her coffee table. “Ya forget this was yer room or something? What’s in yer hand?”

Whoops. She meant to hide those better. “Nothing important. I’m going to take a shower if you don’t mind.” Ororo put her schematics in her nightstand and walked to her dresser. If she was going to be lounging with him, her nightgown wouldn’t be the right attire. She opted for a pair of boxer shorts and a plain tee shirt.

“Don’t take too long. The match is about ta start.”

Tonight would not be about pampering then. The candles in her vanity would be ignored. Not that she wanted to take a luxurious bath with Logan in the room. He would never be improper, and her nudity never bothered her, but it would still feel odd. A simple shower would do.

As the water ran, she couldn’t help but think about the fact that she was going to have a house. A whole place to her own. She’d want the master bedroom a little bigger, maybe one of those claw foot tubs, a shower with a glass door and tile inside, and a cozy den. There was a fireplace-- maybe she’d enjoy placing a bookcase beside it so on winter nights she could read by the fire. Not that the cold would ever be a problem for her, her body would just adjust.

There would be spare rooms, she thought as she worked a lathered her hair in conditioner. The house had four rooms and two bathrooms excluding the one in her room. Those would become guest rooms if anything else. The conditioner was rinsed form her hair and she left the shower refreshed. She called for a quick wind and added her favorite moisturizer. She’d been flying with Warren earlier, before she’d worked in the greenhouse with Logan, and the skies dried her out. Once her clothes were tugged on, she joined Logan, not bothering to brush her teeth just yet.

The match was already going and a beer was being slurped. He paused when he saw her. “Ya took forever, Ro. Half the match is over.”

She hopped over her couch and landed unceremoniously beside him. Picking up a chip and plunging it into some guacamole, Ororo winked. “I’m glad your concept of time is so accurate.” She popped the chip into her mouth trying to not crunch so loudly. She looked at her coffee table, finding something missing. “You didn’t bring water.”

A beer was placed in her hand. “Ya drink this.”

“Logan--”

“Humor me, Ro. Ya can’t watch a boxing match without beer.” She groaned and took the proffered beer. She took a small sip and placed it back down, refusing to take another drink. The chips and dip were well tended, though.

The fight was exciting; even Ro got into it. It was damn cute, too. He could tell she’d never watched a fight like this. She cheered or groaned whenever an exciting punch was landed, not caring who it was for. Her enthusiasm was token, something quaint. When they got a chance, he’d explain the rules better, show her the best boxers, but for now he let her be ignorant. It was like seeing the little kid she probably was when Charles brought her to America.

Huh.

That was something. He never knew what she was like when she got here. Come to think of it, he really didn’t know how Charles found her. The fight ended and Logan couldn’t contain his curiosity. He didn’t feel like he was intruding, she’d tell him. He lowered the volume of the TV, not really needing to. If Ro spoke he’d hear her clearly, but she’d get he wanted to talk.

Her sky blue eyes twinkled. “I take it ya liked it.”

She nodded. “I was unsure at first, but I can see why you enjoy boxing matches.” Ororo tucked her dancer legs underneath her and leaned against the armrest of her couch. “Was there something on your mind? You turned down the analysts.”

It was scary how well she could pick things up. But that was the point, after all. “I was just thinking about you and yer time in Cairo.”

“Oh?” she shifted her weight and tipped her head.

He grunted. “Yeah. Did Charles find ya because you were in the papers or something? ‘Child Goddess?’”

She clicked her tongue and looked away briefly. “No, Logan, I wasn’t in the papers. And if I was, it would be for something vastly different from my mutant status. I used to be a street urchin, a master thief as a child. I could carjack and pickpocket better than anyone you’ll ever know.” She lowered her head and tucked some hair behind her ear. “But... I was also foolish. I saw a rich white man in the streets and thought I could make a good mark. I didn’t get very far.”

Whoever thought Wolverine was the only one with the interesting past obviously knew nothing about Storm. Whenever something about her started making sense, she found a new way to keep him on his toes. She should write a book, he felt. He’d read every page of her epic. “I can’t picture you doing all that.”

Her husky laughter warmed him. “Most cannot. I still practice the skill even if it’s useless. You never know when picking a lock or pocket will come in handy.” Ororo picked a pretzel up and happily chewed. A quick shrug concluded her explanation. They were quiet, and while he liked their silences, another question came to mind. “They’re schematics.”

“Of the mansion?”

“No, of a house. A while back I... I asked if I could move into it.” She hesitated. “Would you like to see?” He grunted his yes and she moved to her nightstand and took out the floor plans. She didn’t have to move the snacks as Logan took the initiative. The white paper was unrolled, revealing the adequately sized house. She explained she wanted to move some room around and remodel the kitchen.

He hunched over, listening. A new bathroom, replaced pipes and wiring, better kitchen, remodeled fireplace, safer roof, more windows, and maybe a little porch and/or patio so she could relax. It would all take about five or six months... If he did it. He knew all the right places to buy quality materials. It would be the perfect project to take on. “When do we start?”

“Charles is bringing someone in tomorrow afternoon to assess the place.” She went to grab another pretzel.

“I could do it. I built my cabin with my own two hands.”

“You have a cabin?” she mumbled, her mouth stuffed with pretzels.

He snorted at her unladylike display. “Yeah, darlin’. I’ll take ya up there one day.” He examined the floor plan with a critical eye. Yeah, he’d do it. He’d drop by Chuck’s in the morning, tell him he was taking the job, and do it for Ororo before she could say no. Not that she could talk him out of it. He leaned back on her couch and turned the volume up. “Ya ever watch Pale Rider?”


He was running through a dark tunnel underground and completely cut off from civilization. He briefly wondered what was the point of having the damn place he underground if no one was around to see it, if no one even knew it existed. There was a shot and his ears began ringing with the sound. It slowly dawned on him that he was the one holding the gun, but couldn’t remember how he got it. A woman screamed and the scene changed. Whatever information he could’ve gleaned from the nightmare was gone.

He was strapped down, naked and bleeding. He didn’t think he would make it, not this time. That wasn’t a problem. They’d been at it for hours, bleeding him dry on that operating table. If he died now, it would be a gift from a god he stopped believing in years ago... Not that he was sure. It was going black... An injection was administered to his side and he awoke. A dark snarl erupted from his throat. No! This was what they wanted. It was happening again...

Ororo awoke to the scariest sounds she’d ever heard. For a second, she thought she was back in Africa, a lion preparing to attack her. What she found was Logan snarling like an animal. He was dreaming, asleep on her couch, not that it was any solace to her. Halfway through Pale Rider he drifted asleep and Ororo didn’t have the heart to wake him. She rose from her bed and cautiously shook him. “Logan, Logan! You’re dreaming. Wake up. Logan, please wake up.”

He was on the brink. A deeper growl left his throat and cheers began. Logan fought it, but the memory was changing. There was a rainstorm in the lab. Why was there a rainstorm in the lab? Someone was calling his name. Not “animal” or “Wolverine.” His name.

Ororo gasped. His pupils were dilated so wide that she couldn’t tell his eyes were hazel. She could tell that whatever happened in the dream didn’t just scare him, it changed him. He wasn’t Logan at this point, he was the thing people whispered about. This was the feared Wolverine, the core inside of him. She very aware that a misstep could possibly prove fatal. His claws weren’t extended, but they could. Even with his eyes open he was still trapped within the dream.

She had to move fast. He was rising above her, a low growl rumbling his chest. If was in an animal mindset, looking him in the eye was a bad idea. She lower her gaze and waited for him to calm back down. The growl dropped an octave and Ororo’s racing heart slowed. It wasn’t like she was afraid-- she’d seen plenty of wild animals in Africa-- but instead felt excited and fascinated. His blunt nose fell upon her and she stretched her neck, furthering her submission.

He took it, rubbing his head into her shoulder, his whiskers tickling her. She kept from laughing as he rubbed his scruffy cheek to her neck. When he mapped enough of her scent, he took liberties, his hands roaming her body. Ororo nearly slapped him, but if he was in an animalistic state, any perceived attack could prove fatal. Before long, he stopped and huffed, enveloping her in a bear hug. “Mine.”

“Logan?” she asked softly, totally confused. For a second, the hug became tighter, then it released. Logan was back and felt awkward. “You were having a nightmare.” Logan checked her over. He never really forgave himself for bruising her the first time. “I’m fine. Are you, my friend?”

“Yeah... What the hell were you thinking coming over here like that? Remember what happened to Marie?” he grouched.

“I was calming you down before you hurt yourself,” she retorted, starting to get angry. The jerk couldn’t accept her kindness at a time like this!

“I could’ve hurt you!” he shot back.

“And you didn’t, Logan!” she snarled. She waved a hand in front of him. Anger wouldn’t get anything accomplished and she knew that’s what he was looking for. Anger was an easy out. “I’m fine. Really. But are you?”

“Peachy.”

“Lying doesn’t change how things are, Logan.” He slumped back down to her couch and rubbed the crick in his neck. “Would you like a pillow?” she kindly asked.

“What makes you think I’m staying in here?”

She walked to her closet and grabbed a spare pillow. “Nothing. I’m simply offering.” She fluffed the white pillow. “You can always say no. I won’t be offended.”

For a second he considered going to his room. It would salvage his ego of having this embarrassing moment. But what was the point of that? She’d already seen it and knew he had nightmares anyway; at least this time the rest of the mansion didn’t hear him. Maybe when he finished her house he could take a room. No, he didn’t want to go back to his solitary room. Logan was safe here.

“Ya got a spare toothbrush in here?” Ororo placed the over fluffed pillow on her bed and wandered to her bathroom. She looked under her counter and pulled out a plastic wrapped toothbrush. Nothing special but it would get the job done. “Thanks.”

“You can shower in here if you’d like. I’ll go to your room and get you some pajamas. If it’s okay with you?” He nodded, ripping open the packaging. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Ororo walked down the halls, amazed at how quiet the mansion could get at night. Since the excitement settled some, she could process what happened. She saw the Wolverine. How thrilling! She was also concerned. This was the thing Logan hid away and she’d just seen it, spoken to it. Or... Spoken to by it. Mine. What could that possibly mean? It involved her, obviously. She was the only one in the room. Unless he’d been dreaming. Wolverine often yelled things in his dreams.

This was different though. She wasn’t sure how many times he’d gone... whatever it was, but this was definitely the first time anyone had seen it in the mansion. She could be wrong, Professor might have seen his animalistic side. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was sound asleep, she’d barge into his room and ask him. Asking Logan would invariably bother him. She would wait.

There weren’t any pajamas, but boxers and shirts. Ororo grabbed a pair of flannel boxers-- he owned a lot of flannel!-- and a grey workout shirt. She walked back upstairs, briefly checking the rooms to make sure they were asleep.

When he asked if she was hurt, he asked with so much fear in his eyes. The Beast hadn’t harmed her, but if he feared it, perhaps it harmed others. Wolverine’s eyes were so black... That was the lasting image. The darkness of his eyes. It was... Rage. Pure and unadulterated rage. She could see why someone would want to test him, not that she would, but the totality of it was incredible.

When she arrived at her room, he was showering. The door was unlocked. She crept inside, placed the clothes on the counter, then sneaked back out without looking. As if she could! The water was running on scalding, the steam so thick she could barely see in front of her. She checked her digital clock. It was three fifty six in the morning. She could fall back asleep, but it would prove difficult. She crawled back under her thick duvet and punched her pillow when she noticed the snacks were still on her coffee table. Rising to her feet once more with an annoyed groan, she gathered the snacks and beer cans, then hurrying to the kitchen before ants and roaches were attracted.

By the time she returned, Logan was sitting in her bed. She would’ve kicked him out if it wasn’t for the fact that he was holding the pillow she fluffed and looking so dejected. Biting her inner cheek, she crawled into bed beside him. They stayed that way for a moment, not speaking. Finally, she took the pillow from his hands, placed it behind him, and wrapped her arms around his bulky frame, gently rubbing his arms and smoothing his signature twin peaks. They laid back, his solid arms around her tiny body, his head cuddled to her bosom. Eventually, he fell asleep.





You must login () to review.