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Author's Note: From now on, thank Marbles for catching the errors!



Ororo folded her legs at the knees and gave a polite smile. There was nothing else she could do at the moment-- Scott was busy berating her choice for the project. She was about to turn in her choice to the Mayor, then wait to give out the good news. Scott, who was far from happy about her choice, decided to argue.

“It’s just crazy, Ororo,” he concluded. “You know how this is gonna go over: We’re gonna get lambasted in the press.” Scott stood rigid. “I can see it now. Another exposé on wasteful spending in city government. We barely made it out last time.”

“I think you’re overreacting, Scott. I haven’t even given my choice--”

“Yeah, but you will.” Scott began pacing, his nostrils flared. “You can’t be serious. That guy? I don’t know if that guy can even handle a project of this scale. Obviously not, since he’s asking for more than we can give.”

“There’s always more to give, Scott. Can’t you talk to Treasury? Figure something out?” she asked, not really bothered by his panicking.

“Why should I? Aren’t you tight with the guys there?” Scott asked, his back to her. He continued pacing. “I just think this is risky. He’s not really showing me anything impressive. There’s a standard we have to commit to, and we can’t just take blind leaps of faith not knowing what our safety net is.” Scott faced Ororo. “Stark is a safety net.”

“Stark is an ass who only cares about himself. I think Logan is a better choice.”

“Logan?” scoffed Scott. “His name is James.”

Ororo nervously scratched at her wrist, hoping she hadn’t been obvious. “He asked us to call him Logan--”

“He’s unreliable. He hasn’t shown us anything promising. House additions?” Scott threw his palms out. “Really? This guy is gonna be manning the inner city project. If he fucks up, it’s on my head. And yours,” he enunciated, pointing at Ororo. “But, hey!- at least I know I can get a good deal on a freakin’ sun room.”

Ororo rose, tired of being talked down to. She grabbed her portfolio, glaring at Scott. “I understand you’re incapable of seeing potential, but I have faith. He won’t let us down. He’s capable of being professional.” She turned on her heel and headed out.

“Professional,” repeated Scott. “Well. Just don’t drag everyone else down while you’re trying to take risks.”

Ororo glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll make sure to leave your name off the fine print.” She slammed the door. “Asshole.”

She thinned her lips as she weaved her way through the other politicos. They were all headed in different directions, aimless and unaware of the presence among them. Ororo took a moment to revel in just how powerful and influential she was. Her planning was almost singlehandedly responsible for every good thing the city had, and yet Scott still treated her like a child. She’d been around almost as long as he-- she deserved the same amount of respect. Men. They all lived with inflated egos and she was tired of it. She was gonna knock Scott down a peg when Logan did a fantastic job. It would be great. She loved Scott, but she couldn’t wait to hear him apologize for being a monumental dick. How Jean put up with it, Ororo didn’t know. Maybe it had something to do with love. Ororo didn’t know; she’d never get caught up with an asshole. She wasn’t sure why she considered Logan when she was already trying to get to know Hank.

Pushing the door of her office open, she found Trish Tillby sitting at her desk, expectant. God, this day couldn’t get any worse, thought Ororo. The stupid interview-- Ororo forgot.

“Trish, hi,” Ororo said, recovering from the shock. She made a mental note to throttle Marie for not giving a heads up. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“No, just five minutes.” Trish shook Ororo’s hand then smiled. “Is that for me?” she asked, pointing at the leather portfolio.

“This? No.” Ororo walked behind her desk, then sat. She pushed her keyboard away and folded her hands on the desk. “I assume this interview won’t be long; I’m very busy, as you know.”

“Indeed I do,” Trish said, the kindness an obvious front. “I was rescheduled twice.” She took out a recorder from her bag and a notepad. She swiped a pen from Ororo’s desk. “I won’t waste either of our time, so I’ll jump right into the first question.” She quickly scribbled something, then pressed the PLAY button. “How much money are taxpayers giving for this new project?”

“The Treasury department working with the mayor has been collecting funds for this project for the past ten years. Though it was certainly before my time and the mayor’s, he thought it wise to put the money to good use,” answered Ororo. “In total, the mayor has collected around eighty-four million. Again, a large amount of this money was previously collected.”

“You say the money was mostly there, but why wasn’t it used for anything else? Say, a better police force,” asked Trish, writing furiously.

“The Westchester County Police Department is among one of the best police departments in America. They have a two-minute response time, solve crimes at an eighty percent rate, and are also dedicated to other tasks separate from protecting and serving the city. The budget did not allocate any more money for them because it was expressly allocated for schools,” Ororo replied, her voice almost robotic. She didn’t have time for this.

Trish scribbled something down, her pen making a faint scratching noise. “Then what does the mayor’s office have to say about the recent accusations of racial profiling?” Trish looked up, smiling. “I assume this should affect you on a personal level.”

No this bitch didn’t! A blow about race? Ororo gave a smile. “The mayor is often personally insulted when a person is singled out for no other reason than the color of their skin. It’s insulting and detracts from actual problems. If the police are racially profiling, the mayor has not heard of it. That is not to say that he would condone such actions. Again, the mayor is personally insulted when it happens, and an investigation will soon follow.” Ororo paused. “The citizens have a right to feel safe and when they are singled out in such a manner, it creates a sense of unease. The mayor has vowed to ensure every citizen feels safe.”

“Okay... Though you didn’t really answer my question,” Trish muttered. “And is this dedication to safety also in the homeless-inner city youth project?”

“Indeed. The mayor wants all citizens to have a place they can call home, for all youths to receive a quality education and three square meals a day. When the project is completed, it will have achieved just that.” Ororo turned to her Rolodex and pulled out a card. “Here,” she said, handing it to Trish. “If there are any further questions, feel free to call this number and we’ll respond in a timely manner.” Ororo rose to her feet, grabbing the portfolio. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to see the mayor.”

“Um, okay,” Trish mumbled, gathering her things. She hurried out and paused at the doorway. “I’d like a follow up. There’s really nothing here--”

“I’ll have my secretary call you within the business week to set up another appointment,” Ororo said, grabbing the doorknob to shut her door. “I hope you have a wonderful evening.” And with that, Ororo turned on her heel once more and walked off.

-

A Several hours later, and three beers in, Logan was still celebrating. He got the call! He was the head of the fucking development project. All that money was his! He was getting his chance. He knew it was the right thing making up with Ororo. It wasn’t really the first thing on his mind when he called her, but he knew it was a good idea somewhere in the back of his thoughts. And now he was gonna get the chance of a lifetime. That saying was true: It’s not what you know, but who you know.

He reached into his pocket for his phone, and grinned at the caller ID when he saw it. She was calling him.

“Hey, beautiful!”

“What?” she asked, her voice slightly muffled. “I can’t hear you. Where are you? It’s loud.”

“I’m celebrating!” he yelled into his phone. Everyone around him cheered; he’d taken his office out for drinks and they were quite possibly just as close to tipsy as he was. Maybe they already were? He didn’t care, just so long as they showed up tomorrow for work. “I’m celebrating the good news.”

“Oh, so you heard.” Logan couldn’t have been sure, but she sounded happy. It was too loud. “Can you move somewhere quieter? I’d like to talk to you--”

“Why don’t you come here?” he asked happily. “Come down to the bar!- where we talked? And bring a friend. A cute friend.” He grinned. “But only if they’re female.”

“Wow, Logan,” she started, already sounding annoyed.

“Hey, I don’t wanna see that boyfriend of yours. I wanna celebrate.” He wanted to swallow back the words the second they came out, but it was out there. She could interpret it however she wanted.

“Okay.”

-

Marie frowned at Ororo, ready to go off. “This is so stupid,” Marie griped. “I don’t even know the guy.”

Ororo dabbed her lip with lipstick, trying to not remind herself of how familiar the conversation was. It sounded much like the one she had with Jean; Ororo felt like a hypocrite.

“It’ll be fine. We’ll only be here for a few minutes.”

“Yeah right!” Marie folded her arms to her chest. “I hate these kind of things. All those damn grabby hands.” She huffed a breath.

Ororo smiled, finding Marie’s pouty attitude cute. “I thought you liked the guy.”

“Not enough to go to a damn bar with drunken idiots with--”

“Grabby hands,” Ororo finished. She put her lipstick away and smoothed her hands down her hair. “Come on. I need a drink, anyways. I’m still pissed about that meeting with Trish. And you owe me!” Ororo said, pointing a finger into Marie’s shoulder. “You didn’t give me a proper head’s up.”

“I did!” Marie defended. “I sent you an email, a text, and a post-it note. It’s your own damn fault you schedule all your meetings on the same day.”

“You’re my secretary; you need to stop scheduling all my meetings on the same day.” Ororo locked her car and faced the loud bar. “Let’s go.”

-

Logan put the beer to his lips, trying to pace himself. He didn’t get drunk quickly, but he was in a good mood and everyone else was helping him along. This was... beer number seven? His pacing wasn’t working so well and he really just wanted to wait until he saw Ororo to start getting pissed. It was obviously too late but he would try and look sober for his beautiful new boss.

“Merde,” whistled Remy, chalking his pool cue. “Would y’ look at that.” Logan turned around and felt his heart pound.

“Ro.” He put his beer down, knowing Remy would watch it. He hurried over, shoving the other bastards out of the way. “You made it.”

“I did,” she said, looking around. “I suppose you’re celebrating early.”

“Can’t go hiking on a Monday, right?” he joked, reminding her of his text. He never got a response, though he knew she read it. He wasn’t offended, not when he was presiding over a new project.

“Can’t be drinking on a Monday, either.”

“It's Friday somewhere, right?”

“No, Logan, it’s not,” she said seriously, obviously uncomfortable. She held her purse closer to her shoulder and Logan wanted to roll his eyes at the sight of that bag. It was the same one she was almost robbed of. Did she have a death wish or something?

“What?”

“Nothing,” he lied. “Just glad you came.”

He took her hand, swiping his thumb over her knuckles. “Bring your friend,” he waved at Marie, “I want you to meet some people. Let’s celebrate,” he said, his lips curling up into a smile.

xxx
Running her hand through her silvery hair, she wondered how this happened.

Actually, she knew how it happened, she just wanted to be dramatic.

Around ten, Ororo was ready to go. It wasn’t that she wasn’t having a great time-- she was-- but she had things to do, and tomorrow wasn’t going to be easier just because one person was celebrating. She wondered if her cat was alright, and what she was going to eat since all her leftovers were gone. Checking her watch, she thought all these things over, ignoring the conversation Logan was trying to bait her into. 

“You can’t leave yet,” he said abruptly, the conversation topic abandoned. “It’s still early.”

She chuckled. “Maybe for you, but I have to get going.” She squeezed Logan’s bicep. “Thanks for inviting me. This was surprisingly fun.” She looked over his shoulder and searched for Marie, not finding her in the immediate area. “Have you seen Marie?”

Logan glanced over his shoulder. “I think she went out for air with Remy,” he said, almost knowingly. Ororo groaned and palmed her forehead. “Hey, c’mon. I’ll help you look outside. I also gotta call Remy-- he’s my designated driver.” He put his beer bottle down on a random table and wiped the sweat from the bottle on his jeans. “Alright. Let’s go.” He turned, knowing she would be right behind him.

When they exited the loud bar, Ororo felt her ears nearly ring. She hadn’t noticed just how loud it was in there, but now that she was in the quiet night, she wondered how she lasted for so long. She looked at Logan, knowing he had a hand in making it an enjoyable night. She smiled to herself, amused at just how things were changing for them. 

“You had a good time celebrating?” Logan asked randomly.

“I did, thanks for asking. You?” she asked. 

They turned a corner around the bar. “Yeah, but there’s always room for improvement, if you know what I mean.” He stopped, then opened his jacket. After patting down a pocket, he took out a cigar. He held it out for Ororo to see. “Planning on smoking this later.” Ororo let out a bark of laughter. “What?”

“I thought that was a joint.” She composed herself, wiping her eye. “Most people smoke after having sex or heavy drinking.”

“Most people? You trying to tell me you smoke, because you smell way to good to be a smoker,” he jabbed, putting the cigar away. He looked up at her, annoyed. “And I’m too old to be messing around with kid shit.”

“Well--wait. You... smell me? That’s creepy,” she said, crinkling her nose.

“I have a good nose, darlin. And don’t avoid the question.” He stared up at her waiting.

She bit her lip. “I don’t smoke.”

“So what do you do after drinking?”

“Sleep,” she said, distracted. Her turned her head, looking for Marie or Remy.

“And sex?” he asked.

She grinned, looking back at him. “Same thing.”

Logan paused before he started laughing. “I guess I know who wears the pants to bed.”

“Who wears pants when sleeping?” she asked. “They wouldn’t match with my nighties.” She waved a hand and walked ahead of him, looking coyly over her shoulder.

Logan put a hand to his heart. “Don’t tease me.”

“Please,” she scoffed, throwing her nose up. “I don’t mess around with kid shit.”

Logan swallowed thickly, uncertain as to how to proceed. Theoretically speaking, he wanted to grab her and push her against the wall of the bar and have her there, but he wasn’t sure how well that would go over. He also wanted to take his time exploring her, and figuring out what it would be like to kiss and taste every inch of her brown skin. He was conflicted.

“Wow,” she said, looking at the screen of her phone. “She and your friend went on a date. Unbelievable,” she sighed. “Did you know?”

“I spent most of the night with you. How the hell should I have known?” he said, defensive. “If your friend didn’t think to text you about it, mine damn sure didn’t.” 

“Great friend,” she muttered.

“I could say the same thing about yours,” Logan snapped. “And why’re you so concerned about it? Remy’s a good guy; she’ll get home safely. I, on the other hand, am screwed,” he said, pointing at his chest. “He has my keys.”

She thinned her lips. “You could take a taxi--”

“Yeah, I’m really gonna take a taxi home just so they can steal another thirty dollars from my pocket.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to be helpful--”

“Gee, thanks, Ororo! Great idea! I just spent a hell of a lot of money on drinks so spending my last twenty dollars on a ride home is just what I need. I’d rather walk--”

“Why’re you being such an asshole? What do you want from me?- A ride?” 

“With you? You’d probably take this as an opportunity to make mean-spirited comments about where I live.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “I’m just gonna walk.”

She thinned her lips. “Where do you live?” she asked. She gave him a pointed look. “Don’t make me ask twice-- I’m trying to be nice even though you certainly don’t deserve it.”

---

Ten minutes later, Ororo pulled into Logan’s apartment complex. She had no idea why he was so worried about where he lived-- it was a nice place. It certainly wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be; there weren’t any dogs running loose across the parking lot. She cut the engine and stared at him. “We’re here.” He nodded,  unbuckling his seat belt. “Remy has yours keys, right?” He nodded again. “How’re you gonna get inside? Do you have a spare in a flower pot?”

Logan snorted. “People still do that?”

She groaned, unbuckling her seat. “How do you manage to breathe if your head is always stuck up your ass?” she muttered. “Show me your apartment.”

They walked up the stairs in silence, and when Ororo reached his door, she pushed him out of the way without saying a single word to him. She pulled a bobby pin from her hair. “You know that doesn’t work, right?” Logan asked, watching her.

After a few clicks, the door opened. She set the pin back in her hair and straightened up. “That’s because you’ve never seen someone do it right.” She pushed the door wider open and stepped inside. He followed, flicking on a switch. “Huh.” She looked around. He lived in a perfect man-cave, though it was much tidier. She noticed the model from the presentation on his coffee table and walked over, intrigued.

“Please,” he muttered, closing the door after them, “come on in. Make yourself comfortable. Kick your shoes off while you’re at it,” he said sarcastically.

Ororo poked at the model, looking it over, ignoring his snide comments. He really needed to take a lesson in humility; she’d literally gone out of her way to make sure he got home safely. The least he could do (in her opinion) was let her play with the tiny model swings. She poked at them with a finger, smiling at how cute they were. “This is amazing work,” she said softly.

Logan joined her, looking at the model. “Thanks. I wanted to impress you.”

She looked at him, smiling. “You did.” She wasn’t surprised when he leaned in and kissed her, his lips just as soft as last time, though now the kiss wasn’t as urgent. She pulled away, her heart flipping. “You mentioned something about going hiking with me?”

“Later,” he said gruffly, grabbing at her. He leaned up, his hands trying to make themselves comfortable on her hips. She leaned into their kiss, moaning. When she tried pulling away, he nipped her lower lip and tightened the grip on her curvy hips. He pressed harder, sliding his tongue against her lower lip. She opened, then sucked his tongue. Logan wasn’t sure where it came from, but he growled at her. 

Pushing her backwards to his room, she broke away for a moment. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” she said breathily. Logan opened the door to his bedroom and stepped backwards inside.

“We can stop at any time,” he said, his hands tugging at the zipper of her jeans.

“Oh, good,” she said, sliding her hands into his shirt. She undid the buttons of his henley at a speed he’d never seen before, then latched onto his neck, sucking. He groaned, his hands finally in her jeans. He cupped her bottom and squeezed. She bit down, and Logan decided whatever kind of foreplay this was, he’d had enough. He pushed her to the bed. 

She fell back with an ungraceful oof. Her hair flew over her face; she giggled as she sat on her knees. She pulled her shirt over her head, losing her bobby pin in the process. Logan fell on her, tugging at her bra, one arm still in his shirt. He pulled the bra cup down far enough to expose a rosy nipple, and sucked just as hard as she. Ororo let out a noisy moan when he bit down.

Running her hand through her silvery hair, she wondered how this happened. Actually, she knew how, she just wanted to be dramatic.

“Fuck.”

Pulling back up, he dug his fingers into her jeans and panties, jerking them all down in one move. She squealed, then looked down. “I hope you didn’t rip anything,” she snapped.

“Like I really care about your Victoria's Secret panties,” he joked. He kicked off his jeans and threw his shirt somewhere in the background.

Ororo groaned as he began pressing kisses to her inner thigh. “I wear La Perla,” she managed. She opened her thighs wider to make room for him, anxious to feel his weight back on top of her. “Please,” she moaned.

“What?” he asked, sliding two fingers into her snug heat and pressed against her spot. He hovered over her, watching her struggle to remain focused.

“Can we not act like-- oh please, oh please, oh please,” she groaned, arching her back and losing her train of thought. When Logan moved away, she grabbed his arm and dug her nails into his arm. “Don’t you dare, Logan!”

“Fine,” he huffed, not trying to push it. He tugged at his erection a few times before sliding into her. He let out a long groan, trying to get himself steady. She felt so good. “So fucking tight,” he managed. The first few strokes were shallow, but he eventually built up a rhythm until he was so wonderfully deep. Her nails scored his back, but she looked and sounded so perfect beneath him that he didn’t give a damn. And when she came, he wished he could capture that moment, but the image was burned in his brain. She let out a long moan that sounded like his name and her soft walls clenched him. He followed after three hard strokes.

He rolled over, panting. It was quick, but wow did it feel amazing. He was right-- she was a hellcat. Looking over at her, that same feeling from the parking lot came back. She was getting up, looking for her clothes. “Are you serious?”

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and nodded. “I have to get going--”

“You can spend the night here.”

“Please, Logan, let’s not make this awkward.”

“I’m serious.” He sat up. “I’ll wake you up early--”

“Aren’t you drunk?” she asked, looking for her shirt. “I’ll do the right thing and let you sleep in. I wake up at like four in the morning.”

“I wouldn’t mind--”

“Yes, you would.” She pulled her shirt over her head, then smoothed her hair down. “Look, this was fun--”

Logan let out a cold laugh. “You’re giving me the speech? This is my apartment. You’re the one kicking yourself out.” He got up, unbothered by his nakedness. “You wanna go so badly-- fine.”

Ororo scoffed. “Try to not act like I’m hurting your feelings.”

“You’re not.” He pulled back his sheets. “Have a great fucking night, Ro. Thanks for coming out to celebrate.”





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