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Logan didn’t have the chance to visit Chuck. To accommodate the fact that someone was coming to the grounds, drills were run fairly early with the few kids in the mansion. Several went back home to families and friends, but a majority remained. Logan was happy to run drills, wanting to work on hand to hand combat based on how poor their skills were. Afterwards, they ran a couple miles, showered, and headed for lunch. The entire time Logan wished they’d played powers- allowed football.

Around two fifteen a knock came to the door. Logan answered. A man in his late thirties with mousy brown hair appeared smelling like asphalt and spicy aftershave. “I’m Eliot Constable, here to check out the house. Have I got the wrong one? This was the address given--”

“Storm!” he barked. “The guy’s here!” Logan stepped aside, letting him in.

Descending the stairs in a strappy white sundress that fell midthigh, Ororo appeared, looking too beautiful for words. Thankfully, Logan wasn’t poetic and just took in the vision. Her hair was slightly wild, falling in beach waves, her lips were rosy from pressing kisses to booboos, and the white made her skin glow beautifully. And it would’ve been okay that she look so damn gorgeous if it wasn’t for the prick standing next to him.

The loser reeked of male arousal the second she showed up. He cleared his throat and enthusiastically stuck his hand out for her to take it. Once she grabbed it, he nearly broke her arm shaking it. At least he didn’t kiss her hand, Logan would’ve punched the sleaze. “Hello, Mr. Constable--”

“--Please, call me Eliot.”

“Eliot,” she experimented. “Thank you for coming out. The house is actually around back. Another man will be with us shortly, but if you would follow me?”

“Gladly.”

Logan invited himself, pissed with the cretin and how he was looking at Ororo’s ass. And as if it couldn’t get bad enough, the douche bag smelled like another woman-- Logan guessed he was dating someone seriously. If this guy was a sampler for coming events, Logan wouldn’t be able to last without knocking some heads and putting his six best friends to use. Storm, of course, didn’t even notice it. Without stop, she rambled on and on about what she wanted and what a lovely house it was with immense possibilities.

“It sure is,” Eliot remarked. Wolverine wasn’t sure if he was talking about the house or her. Logan growled at him, drawing his eyes from her posterior and two spaces away from Logan. “This is a school for mutants, right? Am I to assume you’re a mutant?” he asked, walking closer to Storm.

“I am,” she said, tucking a strand of pure white hair behind her ear. Ororo reached for the door only to be cut off by Logan. He grabbed the rusty knob for her, unwilling to let her scratch herself on it. He’d heal from an infection before it could start. “Thank you, Wolverine.”

Eliot’s eyes narrowed. “Codenames, right? So if he’s Wolverine, what are you? Foxy?” he tried lamely. Ororo’s smile widened, her mirth apparent. “Am I close?” he joked.

“Hardly, though I thank you for the compliment. You may call me Storm or Ms. Munroe. Shall we proceed?”

In relative silence, they moved around the house. Ororo showed him points of interest, and Logan duly noted them. The floor was rotted, the roof needed to be redone, there were mice and other pests in the woodwork, the plumbing was rusty, and the electrical was dangerous at best, but the house wasn’t a tear down. He could see what she wanted to do and felt a kindredness with her; his cabin was sort of the same if she was going for a slightly rustic look. Pieces of his cabin could be incorporated here while still leaving it one hundred percent Ororo.

At the end of the tour, she smiled excitedly, the first emotional display towards the pervert. “Well, what do you think?”

Having been in the kitchen, he walked around, wiping his finger on the plastic counter top. Those had to go, Logan noted, marble or granite. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Munroe, but a project like this will require extensive work.”

Extensive? Logan snorted. Storm jabbed him in the side when Eliot turned away.

“But you can do it, right?” she asked, shifting from Wolverine’s grasp. He’d been tickling her ribs. She administered another jab.

“Sure I can,” he shrugged, facing her. “It would be a pleasure Mrs. Munroe.”

“It’s Miss, and thank you.”

“Miss, really? I figured a woman as beautiful as you would be with a man,” the sleaze tried.

Logan growled once more, startling the man. Ororo was startled when a heavy arm was wrapped possessively around her shoulders. “She is, so back off,” he snarled. An annoyed look crossed her face, but she didn’t say anything. Not yet, at least. Logan was almost certain she was going to scream at him later.

“Oh, I had no idea the house was for the two of you,” he quickly changed. “I figured--”

“What’d ya figure, Bub?” he snapped, having too much fun toying with him. “Why’d ya think I came along? Ta chaperone?” She reached behind him and pinched his back. Logan refused to react, but grinned, wanting to drive the nail in the bastard’s coffin. “Yeah, darlin’? Something ya wanna say?”

Ororo’s eyes squinted. “Not yet.” She attempted to move from his grasp but it increased. Looking for a way out, she grinned. “Charles! So good to see you,” she smiled, shoving Wolverine aside. She glided past a glum looking Eliot to an entirely too amused Charles. She felt completely outnumbered in her plight.

“Storm, my dear. Are you and Wolverine happy with the man I’ve chosen for you?” he grinned, not bothering at all to hide his humor. His smile dropped for a second, then he exchanged a look with Wolverine. Storm didn’t miss it, but she didn’t pry. “Storm, my dear, could you walk Mr. Constable to the front? Mr. Constable, I’ll call you back when the couple decides.”

Eliot nodded, eager to get away from the growling man and be near the gorgeous Storm, not that he’d try anything. He swore the hairy man sniffed him earlier. “No problem. Ms. Munroe?”

The two of them walked off, leaving Wolverine and Charles. Once either was out of earshot, Logan spoke. “I don’t want him working near her. That fucker--”

“Logan, I do not wish for him to work around Ororo, either. His thoughts are less than businesslike, although they did include a desk.” Logan became even more pissed. “However, he is the only man who was willing to work for mutants, and Ororo is used to men being attracted to her; she is quite beautiful.”

Both things were true. Anti-mutant hate seemed to be at an all time high. Nobody wanted to be around them and Logan thought about how when he went to the store with Ororo. No one bothered to help her. The cashier didn’t even know her and treated her callously. But that didn’t mean people didn’t look at her. Logan had to shower away the smell of arousal she garnered, it was disgusting. Ororo got more stares and pants than Jean did on a good day. It didn’t mean he liked the truth.

“I’ll do it. I’m good with my hands.”

Charles’ eyes narrowed. “You’ll build Ororo’s house.” It wasn’t a question. “May I inquire as to why?”

Logan shifted his weight. “It’ll keep me busy.”

Charles clasped his hands. “We shall finish discussing this later. I believe there is something else, something unrelated we need to discuss. Meet me in my office after dinner.”


Ororo sat in the library reading to a small group of children, none older than seven and the youngest being four. Her heart went out to the four children, their mutation manifested at birth and they were cast aside without thought. The youngest sat in her lap, helping her flip the pages when she finished. Each time, she affectionately kissed his golden head-- his mutation made his skin the color of the precious metal. He nuzzled his head into her breast, and for a moment, she was reminded of last night.

When she returned from the kitchen, she’d never seen him looking so sad. When she held him, for a moment she believed he would cry. Ororo knew he wasn’t always so brash, but she’d never expected him to be so vulnerable like that. She could’ve banished him from her bed and brought to light what happened, but it wouldn’t be worth it. He needed someone in that moment.

A small flicker of love started for him, and she understood a little bit of what he’d been trying to communicate that night in the bar. He was scared of being alone. There was nothing wrong with being alone, but when it translated into loneliness, it hurt. It made sense he was so attached to Rouge, she was there for him and it gave him an outlet for the love he wanted to give and receive. With Rouge, he wouldn’t be so hopelessly alone.

It was Jean that she was still working on. She understood the basics, but not the entire reason.

“Ms. Munroe?” asked a girl named Delilah. Her eyes, much like Gambit’s, were completely black.

She resumed reading.

Where was he anyway? She assumed he’d be making a trip to Harry’s after a day like today. Which reminded her, she needed to remind him that his behavior, while funny, was not acceptable. It wouldn’t do for him to lie about something like that. She was capable of handling men on her own. But it was nice to feel wanted, to have a man touch her, even if for pretend.

Yes, she was attracted to Logan. It would be moot and a lie to say Ororo wasn’t attracted to the resident legend. How could she not be? He wasn’t conventionally handsome like Scott was, but it was rugged. Dangerous, even. Those muscles were as much for show as they were for beating a man to a pulp. His square jaw reminded her of the movie stars in the fifties, and she would have loved to pepper the scruffy surface with kisses. And that fabulous mouth! Lips like those were meant to be kissed and she had no doubt he was an excellent kisser. She’d have to ask Jean...

Licking her lips and turning the page, she suddenly felt jealous of her sister, an emotion she hadn’t felt for a long time. The second Logan stepped inside the house, he slobbered after her. For the most part, Wolverine was Jean’s shadow, always trying to get her to be a fallen woman. He was in love with her. She couldn’t fault the emotion, but she despised the action.

While Scott would always be number one, Jean confided in Ororo that she liked the attention he gave her. She knew it was foolish, but her pride thrilled at each glance, every tease, and “accidental” touch. It was promised that she’d never betray Scott like that, especially with Logan, but she’d always like the attention.

Jean would always be Logan’s number one, so it would be best Storm her to bury the slight attraction she had to him.

When the story ended, the little golden boy sitting in her lap was sound asleep and the students were in various stages of sleep. Her heart began to swell. Ororo often wondered what it would be like if she could one day add her own children to the group on the floor. It was part of the reason she wanted her own house so badly. She wasn’t sure when, but one day she’d love to have her own children.

Without putting Joshua down, she balanced his tiny body on her hip and overstepped the children to put the book away. Ororo walked back, gently woke the children, and sent them to bed. Joshua refused to be put down. Not that she minded, he was so adorable.

The thought of having kids was something she’d stopped having for a long time. She was a superhero and her life was picking up. She was only twenty six and slowing down would be... unthinkable. She wanted a family, but she’d be risking their life for nothing.They’d most likely be mutants and with how the world was now their lives would be that much harder. Ororo liked her lifestyle, not that it didn’t have room for change. A companion would be nice, but that would change her as well. It did once.

Ororo tucked him in and stood watching him for a moment. She couldn’t have kids, but she could love the ones without mothers as if they were her own.

When Ororo settled in to fall asleep, her bed felt oddly empty.


It was totally black outside, riddled with blackened skies. Charles considered a conversation like this needed a flare of the dramatic. For one, Wolverine was sitting in a defensive stance, his ears twitching every time someone walked by the hall. Charles made it clear to everyone he was not to be bothered, but that wasn’t something that stopped Logan’s paranoia.

“Walk me through what you remember from the dream.”

Wolverine bowed his head, his eyes shut. Even with one sense down, his body was on high alert. It always was whenever he and Charles had these conversation. Wolverine believed it was crucial to the memory, helping him submerge himself completely. But even then, it helped only a little. Things like names and places and dates were always impossible to recall.

“I was in a hallway. Not the one where they submerged me, this was... Different. Not a dignitary's place, but definitely owned by one. Not American. Maybe... I dunno. Some of the shit was Japanese. A woman screamed, but I can’t figure if she was dying or what.” Wolverine clenched his hand until his knuckles went white. Charles leaned forward, waiting. “The dream changed after I fired a round. Simple firearm, maybe government issued... I think a Grande Puissance 35.”

Charles nodded. “Before we begin the other sequence, did the screaming start before or after the shot? Or was it continuous?”

Wolverine cleared his head, focusing. “After. Before it was silent.”

“Did anyone know you were there?”

Wolverine shook his head once more. The details weren’t coming clearly, but he figured if he was running maybe somebody knew. He didn’t go there of his own free will. Anyone labeled as such doesn’t have a choice. Wolverine growled.

“What do you remember?”

Another low growl formed. “I was on an operating table, but I wasn’t being operated on. They were seeing how long it would take fer my healing factor ta stop making blood. It was...” Wolverine hesitated, his brows furrowed. “I was about to pass out. I think that’s what they wanted.”

“Why?”

“So my survival instinct would kick in. So he’d come out.” Wolverine tapped his chest. “And it wasn’t happening fast enough. I got an injection. That started it.”

Charles swallowed thickly. “Did you wake up?”

Wolverine shook his head. “I was trapped in it. I wasn’t coming out like I normally do. I could feel him clawing. There was gonna be blood.”

“Going to?”

“I-I-I smelled rain,” he stuttered. His fists tightly clenched and slowly released. “I came out of the dream feral. I didn’t do nothing; Storm reacted too quickly.” Wolverine fought back the beast who was clawing at his sanity for having to remember the dream. “She brought me back, but not before.”

“Before what?” Charles asked sharply.

“He said something to her.”

“What, Wolverine?”

The use of the name brought the memory back. The man fought, holding onto the last dregs of his humanity. He didn’t want to bring forth the beast while in the mansion. If he did, it had to be in the danger room. Wolverine only made an appearance in fights or the wilds of Canada or the little woods out back. Right now was extremely dangerous, especially with Storm so near. Oh, shit. Just thinking about her brought it out. He couldn’t stop it, but it felt so natural. “Mine.”

Charles cleared his throat. “Logan, do you know why you said that?” schooling his voice. “Logan?”

Upon hearing his name, Logan beat the beast back. It was the man in control now. It was safe. “It’s alright, it’s me.” Logan rubbed his face, emotionally exhausted. “I can’t say I know. It’s new to even me.”

“You’ve never heard Wolverine say ‘mine?’”

“It’s the first time he’s spoken to anyone and let them live. I wanna say it’s good, but you know how he is.” Logan rubbed his face.

“You should speak to Storm. You’ll need to know what she did. Perhaps you can use it in the future--”

“Fuck no!” he started. “It worked once, but who’s ta say he’ll be as easily won next time?”

“I would attempt it, Logan. Whether you realize it or not, ‘mine’ is a title and Wolverine gave it to her. You want to understand your bestial side, perhaps Ororo can help. It’s a conversation worth having,” Charles said, his voice rising to counteract Logan’s yelling. He was leaving the room. “Do it, Logan, if for no one else than do it for Ororo. She saw it and needs to know.”

Logan stopped at the door, his hand frozen in midair. He needed out of the house. Now.



There were a series of squeals. Scott clapped his hands over his ears, causing Jean to playfully shove him and Ororo to laugh. “You’re so tan!” she remarked, holding Jean’s arm out. It was true. Her normally pale friend was at least three shades darker and far more giggly. Scott was also tanner, but was sporting an awkward sunglasses tan. Ororo couldn’t help but laugh when she saw it.

“You can laugh all you want, but I just spent a month with the most amazing woman ever. No offense, Ororo,” he supplied, taking Jean by the waist and pulling her into a kiss.

“None taken. I’m glad you feel that way, though. It would be pretty awkward if you didn’t,” Ororo joked, receiving a hearty laugh from Scott. “I hope you two took pictures. I want to know if Hawaii is as beautiful as it sounds.”

Jean took Ororo’s arm and led her down the hall. “It really is, Ororo. The beaches are really that sandy and the water is really that blue. And the weather! Oh, you’d just love it. I can’t imagine finding a lovelier place, although I hear Spain is nice. Maybe for our anniversary?” she trailed off, winking at Scott.

“Pfft! Maybe the tenth, but not next year. That’s way too much money and it’ll give me enough time to learn how to ask where the bathroom is,” he retorted. Ororo let out a bark of laughter. “It’s great there, Ro. It’s amazing.”

“Most islands are,” interrupted a rude voice. Appearing for the first time in fifteen hours was Logan, his hair a mess and leather jacket on despite the heat. “Slim. Red.”

“Logan,” Scott greeted tersely.

“Logan!” Jean smiled, taking him into a hug. “So nice to see you.”

Logan pat her back once then pulled away, folding his arms to his massive chest. Ororo cast him a raised brow; somehow she knew he’d spent the last couple hours either drinking, fighting, or seducing women. She hoped he didn’t hit the trifecta... “Good to see you, too. Both, actually. Maybe now Ro can enjoy her summer vacation.”

Scott slapped his forehead. “I nearly forgot to thank you for that, Storm. Was it too difficult?”

Ororo waved a hand, dismissing his worries. “Oh, not really. Some problems here and there. Nothing serious.”

“Do I want to question that?” Jean asked good-naturedly.

“Trust me. It’s actually been easier because of Logan. He’s been a huge help--”

“Yeah, I heard,” bit Scott. He turned his red gaze to Logan. “Heard some other stuff, too.”

Logan glared back, taking a defensive pose. “Ya wanna tell me what that was?”

“I think you already know--”

“Scott, would you take the bags to our room?” Jean intercepted.

“Logan, I need your help with something. It’ll take just a second,” Ororo quickly said, taking Jean’s cue. There was no need for the testosterone levels to reach a high just yet. It was only one o’clock.

Logan relaxed and tersely nodded. “Sure, darlin’. Whatever ya say. ‘S good seeing ya, Jean.” Logan was yanked away from the fight he was definitely rearing to have by a small hand clasped to his wrist. Out from the house he was led, all the way to her greenhouse. He was actually sort of amused by her attempts to remove him from the scene, and didn’t fight her... until he was inside and faced with a severely pissed off female. “Hey, Ro. How ya been?”

“Where did you run off to last night?” Ororo folded her arms under her chest and rested her weight on one hip.

Logan stopped himself from smiling. She was so cute angry he almost didn’t take her seriously. “Out.”

“Don’t pull childish moves, Logan. And don’t. Make. Me. Repeat myself.”

Logan shrugged his shoulders. “I went to Harry’s and then went to this thing. After that I went to a motel to crash. And before you ask-- no, it wasn’t with a woman. Not fer lack of trying, anyway.”

Ororo pinched the bridge of her nose. “Do I want to know the explanation to that?” she asked, exasperated.

Logan stuck his lower lip out in contemplation. “Eh. Depends if you wanna know where I went after Harry’s.” Ororo snapped her head up becoming angrier. “Okay, fine. I saw this brunette sitting alone and I figured I’d talk ta her. Next thing I know, the boyfriend comes outta the john and I’m fighting him and his friends. There were six guys, but not a problem for the Wolverine.” He paused and puffed up his chest, smirking. “I’m on my way out when this guy calls me over and tells me ‘bout some fights in this warehouse. I check ‘em out and find the winner gets a six thousand dollar cash prize for beating every contestant. So, of course I had to enter.” Logan opened his leather jacket and revealed a bloody tank top. Ororo was torn between praying the blood wasn’t his and hoping it was. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. “I won, obviously. I spent sixty on a motel and a couple twenties on beer and food.” He paused. “That’s it.”

Ororo scoffed. “That’s it? Am I supposed to be proud of you? You left in the middle of the night without letting anyone know! You know that’s a bad thing. You could’ve been kidnapped, Wolverine. And those fights? You could’ve seriously hurt someone!”

“That was the point of the cage match, darlin’. Weren’t ya paying any attention?” he joked.

“Cage match?” she nearly shrieked. “Your bones are metal!” The sky boomed in response, emphasizing her point. “What were you thinking?”

Logan smirked. “That I wanted to win six thousands dollars.”

She palmed her face and groaned. “You’re insufferable. I’m not happy with what you’ve done.”

Logan tucked the money in his pocket and swooped in to kiss her cheek. “Ah, but ya love me,” he smiled, rubbing his cheek against hers. “Say it. Ya know you wanna.”

Ororo groaned and pulled away. “No, I don’t! And I have yet to reprimand you about your little display in the hallway with Scott--”

“Display? Reprimand?” he repeated. “Ro, nothing happened so there’s nothing to reprimand me for.”

“I beg to differ.” She folded her arms under her chest. “For Jean’s sake, please refrain from fighting with him.”

Logan saw an open. “But if it doesn’t bother Jean you’ll be fine with it?”

Ororo glowered. “Of course not. I’d rather you leave him alone.” she stared at him, her eyes frosting at the edges. “Do not push me, Logan, I’m reaching my wit’s end.”

Logan cocked his head, concerned. “I won’t. What’s wrong, Ro? Ya sick or something?”

She gave a hollow laugh. It sounded... Sad. “Or something.” Ororo took in a calming breath and gave him a weak smile. “Six thousand dollars, huh? What do you plan on doing with all that money?”

Logan gathered her in his arms and held him close to his chest. Poor Ro, she really did put everyone’s needs before her own. Like she had the night before, he rubbed his hands along her back and slowed his breathing. When she finally calmed hers and the skies quit their black color, he released her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be good. I promise.”


Ororo could finally go straight to bed after dinner. And tonight, she planned on soaking in her tub. Lighting some aromatherapy candles, filling the tub with warm water and relaxing sandalwood bath salts, Ororo walked to her iHome, turned on some soft music, put on her mint facial mask, poured herself a glass of aromatic red wine, and finally sank into the water. She groaned, releasing the tension she wasn’t aware had been building. It was perfect.

She took a sip of the white wine, placed the glass down, and picked up her loofa sponge. If she could spend forever in her bath, it still wouldn’t be enough to release the tension. A massage was a good place to start. Ororo would have to ask Charles if she could take a spa day. When she went with Jean a few years back, she’d gotten a mud bath, a facial, and a hot rock massage. The mud bath was interesting, the facial she adored-- she bought a jar of the green mask and was wearing it now-- but the massage was the highlighter for her. Years of tension were wiped away in an hour.

Ororo picked her shaver up and began smoothing it over her legs. Not that there was anyone to feel her legs, but she loved keeping them sexy and smooth. The same with her sex, though that was more a necessity. Her X suit was more like a swim suit than an actual suit. She had to make sure her vagina was shaved and waxed, with the exception of her landing strip.

A soft sigh escaped her lips and Ororo picked up her glass. Maybe part of her tension was sexual. Oh, who was she kidding? It was definitely sexual. She wasn’t a virgin and while she wasn’t a prude, picking up strange men to scratch an itch felt weird. She couldn’t be like Logan and be with a random person. But, oh, if the thought of being touched didn’t make her wet. Ororo had had sex once, but it was still one of the more magical moments in her life-- separate from the following heartache. Ororo took another sip, hummed her sigh, and returned to her shaving.

It was funny she was so tense. Ororo had taken to masturbation, something she kept secret from even Jean. It felt weird, but the short orgasms made up for it. Sort of. She had no doubt that if she had something a little more powerful than her fingers she’d get the orgasms she dreamed of. She just couldn’t bring herself to go to a sex shop and buy a Rabbit. Yes, she even knew which one she wanted.

She finished shaving and started soaping her skin. Eliot was cute; it was nice being flirted with. And then Logan had to go and ruin it! What was his problem? He could flirt with other women but she couldn’t get a single guy to acknowledge she had a pair of breasts? She was tired of being ignored! Jean couldn’t get all the attention. There was a time she thought she was beautiful. Back when Forge was around. Who knew seven years could go by so quickly?

Ororo drained her glass and the tub. She channeled a wind to blow out the candles, rinsed her facial off and brushed her teeth. She then perched on the side of the tub, smoothing vanilla scented shea butter on her skin, she worked the last of what the bath could not out of her skin. Maybe later tonight she’d toy with her clit while listening to some mood music. She grinned at the thought. Ororo glanced at her counter and realized she’d left her silk nightie in her room. She stepped from her bathroom sanctuary, clad in her luxurious fluffy white bath towel.

“Damn, Ro, I thought ya died in there.”

“Logan!” she shrieked, hiding her face in her hands. “Goddess!”

Logan laughed, leaning back in her bed. “Ya trying ta make me deaf or hard? Because yer doing a damn good job at both.” When she peeked, that stupid cock-sure grin that peeved Ororo made an appearance.

She collected herself, holding her towel tighter to her body. “What in the goddess’ name are you doing in my bed?” Shirtless to boot.

Logan gave her a pointed look. “Waiting fer you so I can go ta sleep. Ya wanna put on some clothes on cuz I wasn’t lying about that hard thing.” Ororo hastily grabbed a her nightie and returned to her bathroom, tugged it on, and came back out, livid. “I’m starting to think ya want me hard, Roro.”

She reached up and pulled her hair from the bun she’d gathered it in. It tumbled out, making her look far too good for words. When Logan came up here, he didn’t expect this. He was joking at first, but damn... His dick began to swell. He watched her walk to her vanity and began brushing her glorious mane. He watched, slightly fascinated at how amazing it looked. Red was nice, but white was exotic.

I couldn’t agree more.

“Did you hear me? I asked--”

“I heard ya, darlin’. It’s part of the reason why I’m in here. My room’s too close ta the newlyweds and I don’t wanna know what Scooter sounds like. Matter of fact, I don’t even wanna know what Jeanie sounds like. C’me’re, I’ll braid ya.” Ororo nodded and walked to the bed, giving him her back. He took the cloud soft hair in his hands and immediately began braiding the waist length hair. “If it’s alright with you, I’d much rather hear you snore.”

“I don’t snore,” she replied indignant. “And yes, I won’t mind you sleeping in my room.”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, neck and shoulder. “Thank you, Ororo. I’ll make it up ta ya,” he rumbled into her shoulder. He pressed another lingering kiss on her shoulder and ignored his animal’s curiosity to lick her skin. “But, yeah, you snore.” He laid his head there for a moment, and began running his hands down the length of her arms. The thought of her naked in her tub was the dominant image in his mind while she was in there, but holding her and knowing how good she smelled, seeing her in that sexy little nightie, and feeling her smooth skin changed it a bit. What did she look like naked? The glimpses he got were tantalizing, but to actually see her naked would be great. Licking his lips, be wondered what her pussy looked like. Would it be--

“Mm, you have wonderful hands,” she purred.

He startled. “Hadn’t noticed.” Did he? Logan hated his hands. They had blood he could never wash away. He trailed them from her arms to rest on her shoulders and pressed his thumbs into her back. She arched into his touch, all but turning into a pile of goo.

She took her braid and moved it from her back to allow him more room. “They’re amazing,” she moaned. Logan began to knead her back more thoroughly, loving the flesh he was offered. Damn, she felt good to touch. He’d always been tactile, needing to touch, something nobody really knew. It had a lot to do with his over-sensitized flesh. It came in handy for a lot of things, like when he was fucking. But now, it was useful for something as simple as a massage.
But ya never know. He sniffed the air. There was another scent. It smelled like...arousal.

“Hey, Storm? Can I talk to you for a second?” Scott called from her door. Ororo gasped as if caught doing something. Wolverine snarled for ruining the moment. “Storm?” he asked concerned.

“Just- just a second, Scott.” She removed herself from Logan’s grasp and hurried to her closet, grabbing her robe. Logan rolled his eyes and laid back on her bed, crossing his arms behind his head, looking like he’d just gotten laid. And considering how hard he was getting, he probably should. However, he’d never forced a woman, if they came, they had to come willingly and plenty of times.

She opened the door to a slightly disheveled looking Scott in pajamas. “Hey, I-- what is he doing in here?” he scowled.

“Me an’ Ro are about ta have a sleepover. Invite only,” he smirked, completely at ease with how it all looked.

Scott pushed Ororo aside and stormed inside. “No you’re not. You need to get the hell out of here. I can’t believe this, Storm,” he shouted. “The man nearly breaks your arms and you’re willing to sleep with him? What’s wrong with you?” He grabbed her wrist and shook it.

Wolverine leapt from the bed and took Ororo from Scott, pushing her behind his bulky frame. “You outta yer fucking mind? Don’t ya ever grab Ro like that,” he snarled, his chest vibrating with a warning growl.

“Oh, but you’re allowed? Hank told me if you gripped a little harder you would’ve broken her arms, Wolverine!” Scott shouted, holding his stance.

Wolverine snarled. Of course he knew that. He hated that he hurt her, but he’d be damned if this ass hole reminded him. “It was an accident--”

“Much like everything else about you?” Scott retorted.

“Enough!” Storm boomed. “Logan, go back to bed. Scott, outside. Now!” As ordered, Logan stepped back, albeit slowly. Scott moved to the door, his red gaze on Wolverine. It seemed the hours between their first meeting did nothing to dissipate the fight they both wanted to have. Ugh, Ororo could feel her head becoming heavy with a headache. Once the door closed, she motioned for Scott to follow her. She could bet good money that Logan was listening on her every move.

Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, Scott unfolded his arms. “Why’s he up there, Storm?”

She held a hand up to him. “While I do not feel it’s necessary to explain, he is in my room to go to sleep.”

“You have a couch, Storm. Let him sleep on the couch.”

“As it is my room I shall do as I please, though your recommendation is duly noted.” She narrowed her cattish eyes at him. “Why were you at my room so late?”

Scott gave her a leveled look. “I wanted to invite you to breakfast. Jean and I are heading to this vegetarian place she read about and we both figured it would be a nice gesture. You know, to make up for the fact that we robbed you of your summer.” Ororo gave him a suspicious look. He let out a defeated sigh. “I guess I should have asked in the morning. I wasn’t thinking.”

Ororo put a hand to Scott’s shoulder, guiding him in the direction his room was. “No, you weren’t. Thank you for offering; I’ll consider it.” Something popped into her head. “Make sure you apologize to Logan in the morning, Scott. What you said was very rude and uncalled for.”

Scott threw up his arms. “He put his hands on you and you’re still making me apologize? I’m not just going to let something like that slide. Neither should you!” he said in a harsh voice.

Ororo glared at him. “I did not just let it “slide,” Scott. I made sure he heard my piece about it. But you called him a mistake, and you know how often mutants hear that.” Glancing around the hallway, she stepped closer. “You want him on our side and yet you distance him. Don’t live up to your monicker, Scott.” Ororo pointed to his door. “Good night.”


When she returned to her room, Logan was sitting on her terrace, puffing a cigar. Assuming he’d had it in his jeans the entire time, Ororo wordlessly joined him. Instead of starting the conversation, she hopped up on the ledge and looked up at the moon, watching the beams scatter along the lawn through black clouds. It would be a nice night to go cloud dancing, her previous flight lesson non withstanding. She felt a pair of eyes on her and glanced at him, not bothering to smile. It would feel... Mocking if she did.

“I really am sorry that I hurt ya like that.”

Ororo nodded. “I know.”

He snorted. “No, ya don’t.” He took another drag and let the smoke fill the night sky.

She fell silent, not sure how to respond. “You are not a mistake, Logan.”

With a noncommittal shrug, he made a noise in the back of his throat. “No, I’m an animal, too.”

Oh, someone wanted to brood. If he wanted a pity-party, it was going to be just him. She dropped down from the ledge, pausing. A sudden stroke of genius hit her and there was no way she would pass it up. Gently lying a hand on his shoulder, she looked into his eyes, her face somber. “Prove it.” She walked past him, fully aware his eyes were on her. She walked to her closet, completely ignoring him, and hanged her bathrobe up. Then, with total savagery, she pulled her braid from its hold, sprinted towards him, past him, onto the ledge!... and jumped.

She heard him roar her name as she fell several stories. Just as her proximity to the earth was too close to ignore, she channeled a wind and flew up, laughing. Oh, this was a perfect night to be out. Moving higher and higher until level with a frantic looking Wolverine, her heart raced. She floated closer to him, her left leg slightly bent at the knee. “You say you’re an animal? Then hunt me down. Catch me, Wolverine.”

“You outta yer fucking mind, Storm?” he barked. Was everyone losing their minds in the mansion tonight? “Ya could’ve died just then!”

Laughter filled the space between them. “Prove to me you are not all talk. Catch me.”

“No.”

Ororo cocked and eyebrow. “Afraid of a challenge?” A flash of anger lit his eyes. “Catch me, Wolverine.”





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