Chapter Six: I Can Hear Heaven
Logan could scarcely soothe his somehow frantic heartbeat. Since the moment he had Storm in his arms, her warm body pressed close to his, the entire world was a funnel. He was lost in the cyclone, hearing only her voice, smelling only her scent, feeling only her sweet, smoky kisses. He had to force himself to concentrate, for every idle moment his thoughts went back to the odd encounter in the atrium.
There was something there, no denying it now. He knew better than to give in to the urge. Some things just pulled a man in, like gravity, and Storm seemed to be one of them. It would have been better to just never know, to never understand how amazing it could be to hold her in his arms. She fit like a second skin, made Logan want to drown in her until all worry, fear, and doubt was cast to the winds she commanded.
The woman was definitely going to be trouble.
Logan sat on the edge of the Professor’s desk, trying to maintain the appearance of brooding anger. How well it was working, he couldn’t really tell. Everyone was preoccupied with what Xavier had seen inside of Senator Kelly’s head. Whatever was happening to that man was apparently cause for concern.
Jeannie went on about how the hate-mongering politician had suddenly become a mutant. It was now certain that Magneto planned to do this to several people, if not the entire world. If he did that, the balance of power would shift, yes, but as red-haired doctor went on it would cause uncounted deaths.
“His body is rejecting the mutation.” Jean finished, drawing Logan’s thoughts back to the matter at hand.
“Is there anything you can do?” Cyclops questioned from the other side of the room. The man had said nothing to Logan at all, even after they observed the Senator’s strange condition.
“I don’t know how he did it, much less how to reverse the effect,” Jean shook her head.
“The machine Magneto used is important,” Xavier chimed in.
“What does he want with Rogue?” Logan interrupted. “How does she figure into this?”
Silence resonated through the room while the assembled mutants mulled over this. Logan looked at each of them in turn, wondering what they were thinking. What was Storm doing while she kept watch over Kelly?
“Wait a second. You said,” Scott answered suddenly. “That when Magneto used the machine, it weakened him.”
Xavier nodded, his eyes suddenly far off. Logan thought the man was going back through the memory lifted from Kelly’s fractured mind. The air charged around him, like the still before the storm. Logan’s hands clenched with anticipation.
“In fact, it almost killed him.”
Right then, it clicked in all four minds. “He’s going to transfer his power, use Rogue to power the machine.”
Logan was on his feet immediately. “We have to find them. He’ll kill her!”
At that moment, the office door flew open. So preoccupied with thoughts of Magneto and Rogue was Logan that he had not even heard the running footsteps nor caught the scent of fear coming from the woman rushing through the halls. He jumped back slightly, fists clenched as he fought to keep his claws safely housed within his flesh.
Storm appeared in the doorway, her eyes wild and hair tousled. Blood was staining the bandages on her throat, but she met each set of eyes with the dark gaze that pierced emotional armor without resistance.
The shock in those chocolate eyes made Logan yearn to hold her close. So powerful was the urge to pull her into his arms that Logan had to physically halt himself before he moved toward the goddess standing so unsure in the doorway.
“Senator Kelly is dead,” Storm announced. Logan’s gaze locked with hers, unwilling to relinquish once the hold was solidified.
“We’re running out of time.” Xavier said quickly. “Scott, get Logan a uniform.”
“Professor…” Cyclops tried to intervene.
“Just do it,” Storm cut in. “Do we know where Magneto is taking her?”
For a moment, there was silence. Logan slid his gaze toward Cyclops, whom stared from Xavier to Storm. Neither seemed willing to bend even a little and Jean had a barely perceptible smile on her pretty face.
“I must consult Cerebro.”
Without even waiting for the others, Storm turned on her heel and left the room. Logan moved to follow, but Jean was there. Her small hand went to Logan’s arm, restraining him by request instead of command.
“Let me.”
Seeing the concern in brilliant green eyes, Logan nodded. The red haired telepath left the room quickly, followed by Xavier. Cyclops came toward the feral Wolverine, standing toe to toe with him. He’d been expecting this, though whether Scott’s little “chat” would be about the upcoming battle or the frantic lip-lock with Storm, Logan wasn’t sure.
“You’ll have to use one of my uniforms.” Cyclops said, his tone tight and voice hard-edged. “Unless you’d rather use Jean’s?”
Logan gave the boy a smirk. “Think she’d let me?”
Scott’s scowl deepened. “Out there I’m the team leader. If you can’t follow my orders, I don’t give a shit what Charles said, you’ll stay here.”
Rage bit at the surface, churned by concern over Rogue and the call of battle singing in his veins. Voice dropping to a low, testing growl, Logan took a step closer until he and Cyclops were nose-to-nose.
“I don’t take orders, boy.”
“Don’t test me, Wolverine,” Cyclops said with more backbone than Logan had previously given him credit for. “This is my team, my family. You screw up and get one of them killed, I’ll peel your skin right off that metal skeleton.”
Respect grew and Logan was powerless to stop it. He could sense the love of his pack, the fierce protectiveness. Unable to control the baser instinct, Logan backed down. His claws stopped biting at the inner flesh of his hands, lulled into a dormant state by the sudden appearance of the true Alpha Male of this pack.
“I got it.”
Scott’s shock registered on his face for only a moment. “Lets go.”
~**~
Storm had gone into her room, lost in thoughts of seeing Kelly’s body shift and phase until it broke into a million particles of water and evaporated. The shocking sight had frightened her, though why she wasn’t sure. Seeing an entire human being broken down into atoms and scattered just tore her heart.
Magneto had the power to do that, though to whom she could only guess. Charles would find him and the X-Men would have their mettle tested on the first, real battlefield in Magneto’s war. For years Xavier’s students had trained for this, but part of Storm had always carried the hope that it would never come to war.
As she put fresh bandages on the wounds left by Sabertooth, Storm glanced at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She had to be strong now, trust in what she’d been taught over the last long years. Who else could fight this battle? Humans were such a fragile species and only mutants could fight on the scale that Magneto wished for.
Someone had to stand up for all of humanity and Xavier’s X-Men were ready to take on that mantle.
And now faced with the start to what she knew would be a long, unending war, could she not stop thinking about the damned Wolverine?
“He’s getting to you.”
Ororo turned on the balls of her feet, startled by Jean’s voice breaking the tense silence. She glared somewhat playfully at her friend, securing the bandage with one last strip of medical tape.
“You’ve been poking around again.”
“Can’t help it,” Jean replied with a knowing smile. “Your head is a jumble. Our link makes it hard to concentrate when you’re obsessing.”
“I am not obsessing,” Ororo grumbled, scooping up her soiled bandages and tossing them into her bathroom’s wastebasket. “I’m just…thinking.”
“Loudly,” Jean teased, coming fully into the room and closing the door behind her. “Must have been some kiss.”
Knowing that her friend could be like a pitbull with a rather juicy bone, Ororo relented. She leaned against the doorjamb of her bathroom, crossed her arms beneath her breasts and sighed. Closing her eyes, she recalled the feel of strong, utterly masculine arms around her. The taste of him lingered on her lips, the scent of sweat and spice permeated her senses until she was filled with Logan.
“It was,” Ororo admitted. “Jean, what am I going to do?”
Scott’s warning was still fresh in Ororo’s mind. Logan was not a man that would stay with her. Though nothing solid bloomed between them yet, Ororo could imagine something would. When it did, how could she live with the fear that he would simply drift into the night again?
Ororo wanted to go with her instinct, just dive into whatever the hell Logan was doing to her. But the fear of being hurt stopped her short. She didn’t want to be hurt, nor hurt him in return. There should be nothing between them, for their own good.
And yet…
“There isn’t anything you can do.” Jean replied softly. “If you can’t just evade it, maybe you aren’t supposed to.”
“Jean,” Ororo sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “I don’t have any room for this in my life. With Magneto and the fight and the children.”
“So?” Jean tilted her head at her dearest friend. “Ororo, why are you so afraid of this?”
He’ll hurt me. Ororo thought, aware that her friend would pick up the thought.
Jean came closer, hugging Ororo tightly. He may not. You are very similar creatures.
Before Ororo could reply, pain whipped through her head. A far-off scream resonated. She grasped her temples, crying out in mental agony. Never had something caused such pain. It felt as though her heart were being yanked from her chest.
HELP ME.
“Charles!”
~**~
Logan wandered the halls after all was quiet. Restlessness tore at his insides, even in the quiet calm of a mansion fast asleep. Somewhere out there Rogue was being held captive, alone and afraid.
But here at the mansion, things had spiraled quickly out of control. He’d been with Cyclops when it happened. They were searching for a uniform to fit Logan when the younger man screamed, grasping his head as though something were burning him from within.
Logan shouted for Jean, but heard children running in fear upstairs. It took a moment for Scott to regain his wits and when he did, all he could say was the word “Charles” over and over again.
Jean and Ororo met them in the hall to Cerebro, where Scott had run “ full tilt- after recovering from his odd mental attack. All three were in a state of panic, the scent of fear nearly bowled Logan over, even as Storm stumbled and wound up in his arms.
When Cerebro’s doors opened, Logan understood. Their mentor lay on the floor unresponsive and pale. He and Scott carried the frighteningly limp mutant into the med-lab, where Jean immediately began working on their leader.
Still, hours later, they had no answers. Jean and Scott had things in hand and they told Storm and Wolverine on no uncertain terms that they were merely underfoot. Nothing could be done to find Rogue until they knew what had happened to Charles.
They could not even locate the madman until he awoke, for they had no one to work with Cerebro.
Storm had gone to her room, or so Logan assumed. He was left to his own devices. Thoughts of Rogue, Magneto, Xavier and his dream plagued the mutant. Jean had suggested he get some sleep, but she obviously had no idea how impossible that would be.
He had seen the children ready for bed. Battle from the train station, from the impending fight with Magneto sang in his blood. The restlessness would give him no peace until he did something with it. Of course the haunting feel of Ororo’s mouth against him, her body warm and willing against his did nothing to help settle his mind and body.
Tonight he could do nothing about Rogue, Magneto, or Xavier, but perhaps something could be done about Storm.
A smile crossed his features when Logan realized that his train of thought had already brought him to Storm’s bedroom door. He could hear her inside, rustling around. Her scent came to him, filled with the aromas of earth and rain. It made his nostrils flare, eager to take in more.
Logan stood in the hall for several moments, his hand half-raised to knock. He shouldn’t be here, bothering her this late. But the dim glow of light from beneath the door told him the sleep that eluded him had not yet found her. Footsteps told him she might be pacing, perhaps worrying over her mentor as he had, or thinking of their stolen moment in the atrium.
Forcing himself to face the problem head on, Logan knocked softly. His metallic skeleton gave a muted ring against the solid oak of her door and he called out quietly, clearing his throat.
“Storm?”
“Logan?” came the reply in her clear, throbbing voice. She paused, Logan heard the distinct sound of a throat clearing. “Come in.”
The palm that twisted the brass knob was slightly damp with sweat and Logan’s gut roiled with a hint of nerves. Why the hell was he nervous? She was just one woman! There would be no danger in the solitude of their bedroom.
At least…no physical danger.
Storm stood in her bedroom, changed out of her slinky garments and into what looked like well-worn sweats and a thin camisole. Logan immediately noticed the swells of her caramel breasts against the flimsy white material, darkened peaks winking playfully from beneath.
All her long hair spilled over those smoky shoulders, free as any wild thing. The curtains pulled back to reveal a wide, open window leading to the large balcony danced in a cool autumn breeze. Logan caught the scent of goddess on that sweet wind, and his hands clenched with the desire already pooling in his belly.
For several long moments, they said nothing. Even the door closing behind him with a soft click did not jar either mutant. Logan kept his distance, no matter how he wanted to drag her into his arms, bring sensual sounds of encouragement from that beautiful body.
“You shouldn’t be here.” Ororo said quietly.
Logan could not fault her logic. He shouldn’t be here, not when they had a million other things to be worrying about. They should both be in the lower levels, waiting for the Professor to wake from the sudden and devastating coma.
“I know,” he replied gruffly. “But I can’t seem to stay away.”
“I know the feeling.” Storm answered, looking away as a small smile crossed that luscious mouth.
They stood again in silence as Ororo gazed at the moon and Logan stared at her. He could smell the want on her, see it in the tension of her body. Oh, she was trying to fight it. But the attraction they’d both become aware of within moments of meeting swelled and grew between them.
“Come closer.”
At Ororo’s gentle order, Logan exhaled the breath he was not aware of holding. He took slow, measured steps through the quiet of her bedroom. Ororo did not instinctively step back, as he thought she might. If she had, their problem might have solved itself. Logan would never take a woman who feared him in the slightest. There was no pleasure in that for him.
But Ororo moved not an inch, even as Logan came close enough to feel the heat from her body. There existed in her a kind of wildness, he could see it in the dark pools of her ebony eyes. Here the irises reflected light from the high moon above, but they whispered to Logan of hidden secrets and dark delights.
One caramel hand reached up and Logan could not keep his eyes open. Her fingers danced over the flesh of his cheek, tracing the line of stubble along it until she could reach his lips. Her skin practically hummed against his, capturing every attention and focusing it on the very spot where their skin met.
He could not breathe as Ororo leaned ever closer. Her slender hand went to the back of his neck, tugging him until their lips met. Logan’s hands regained the ability to move and they were suddenly buried in the silken locks of her fragrant hair.
Unlike the kiss in the atrium, this was a slow exploration. Logan’s knees weakened as her mouth opened, a silent offering to take what he would without fear or restraint.
One of his arms fell to her waist, lifting the slight goddess into his arms even further. She trusted him, Logan noticed, to support her weight and his. There was not even a check of balance from her, as Ororo gave herself over to him without a thought.
He took a step back, sharp eyes having taken a cursory glance of her room. Memory told him where to step until his knees hit the edge of her pale blue bed. Logan let himself fall, turning at the last second with preternatural reflexes. He cradled the divine creature in his arms as though she were made of precious crystal, their mouths still fused together.
Passion licked up from Ororo as her tongue suddenly swept into his mouth, giving his dominant side a stroke. Logan nearly smiled into her mouth. The minx knew exactly what she was doing, though how or why she had such intimate knowledge were questions for later. Much later.
Clothing seemed to melt away. Lost in Ororo’s teasing kiss, Logan could scarcely recall how they went from near-innocent kissing to having hot, bare flesh pressed together intimately. His mouth moved from hers as her chest was suddenly freed from the flimsy camisole she’d been wearing.
He trailed hot, wet kisses down the smooth column of her dark throat, eliciting a groan of encouragement from his lover. Logan licked himself a path from the hollow of her throat to the soft peak of one cocoa-tipped breast. Ororo rose up under him, offering, willing, begging him to take.
Logan lavished the hardened peak with attention, drawing it into his mouth as Ororo gasped and sighed her pleasure. Her hands were not idle, but smoothed over every bit of Logan’s flesh that she could reach, even as he switched his attentions from one perfumed breast to the other.
Ororo whispered his name and Logan raised his eyes to meet her gaze over the swells of her flesh. She watched him with passion, desire radiating from those expressive eyes. Encouraged by that hot gaze, Logan continued to make his way down her body. He pressed wet, opened mouthed kisses along the ripple of her ribcage, down the flat plane of her belly. His hands spanned the width of her generous hips, holding her still as Ororo shifted and flinched beneath him.
In what he could remember of his life, Logan had never had a woman like this. Unusually his romps were few and far between, confined to drunken tumbles when the need to be touched won over his paranoia and gruffness. But here and now, stone-cold sober was a woman willing to give in to his desires, to take as much as he could give.
When Logan reached the edge of the snowy curls between Ororo’s legs, she opened willingly. He closed his eyes when Ororo fell back, her hips arching impatiently. Logan pressed a chaste kiss to her weeping sex, then dragged his tongue the length of her sweet folds.
“Logan,” Ororo whispered his name, her throaty voice sending a shiver down his spine.
The taste of Ororo melted on Logan’s tongue, something he would never forget. Sweet, tangy, he’d never had anything so wonderful. Ororo’s gasps became faster as her heart rate soared. She wiggled under him, one hand reaching down to entwine with his as his lips and tongue worked over her heated core. The intimate gesture brought Logan’s desire from insistent to primal. God, he needed to be inside this woman, to feel her around him until they lost themselves to bliss.
Upping the pace of his tongue, Logan flicked the tip over the swollen bud at the top of her sex until she shattered. Ororo’s high-pitched cry of release made his erection throb and he slithered up the length of her body even before the tremors of her orgasm had faded.
Ororo leaned up, wrapping slender arms around Logan’s sweat-slicked shoulders. Her mouth fused with his once more as he positioned himself between her slim thighs. The tip of his cock brushed her folds, making them both groan in anticipation.
Logan kept his lips on hers, his tongue stabbing into the sweet cavern of her mouth. He reached between them, taking his cock in hand to guide it toward Ororo’s wet body. He slid in almost effortlessly, forcing Logan to release his hold on her mouth as her receptive body pulled him deeper and deeper still.
Unable to brace himself, unwilling to break full-body contact, Logan wrapped his arms under Ororo as he buried himself to the hilt inside of her. He felt her legs shift until they were wrapped about his hips, giving him more room to move inside of her.
Logan’s eyes met Ororo’s, the only light coming from the moon outside. Shaking with restraint, he pressed his forehead against hers, pulling his hips back until he could slid inside of her once more. Ororo gasped soundlessly, her head falling back. Logan buried his face in the juncture of neck and shoulder, inhaling her scent as he drove them both toward bliss.
~**~
Jean leaned over the panel inside of Cerebro, checking for any fault that might have caused Charles’ sudden coma. She had already checked most of the other panels, having left Charles in the capable hands of Scott. Should anything happen, he could contact her in moments due to the mental link they all shared.
The terror they had all felt when Charles called for help still hurt Jean’s heart. She had always known they looked to him for safety and aid when they needed it most, but for some reason she had never thought that they were Charles’ safety as well. In that moment, however, when he felt his own powerful mind turn against him, he’d called for his “children”.
Humbled by that, Jean vowed that she would save him, even if it meant testing the limits of her mental gifts. Charles had gone away inside, retreating from whatever had pained him until he was lost in his own consciousness. Jean might have brought him back, if only she could be sure her barging into his mind would cause no further harm.
She’d worked on him through the night and spent the bulk of her day working on the supercomputer Charles and Magneto once built together. As she picked through the inner workings of the computer, Jean wondered where Ororo had been all day.
“What the hell?” Jean spied a dark vial plugged into Cerebro’s systems and frowned. It looked as though Cerebro had been sabotaged after all, something Scott had said the moment they realized Charles’ own mind had turned on him.
Jean disconnected the vial, watching as Cerebro flushed the murky poison from its own systems. She closed it back up, confident that once they woke the Professor it would be in working order. If she could just find a way to draw him back out, to assure him it was safe…
She stopped before leaving the massive computer room, turning over her shoulder to stare at the control panel. Charles always said she would use it herself one day, once she was confident enough in her own abilities. But Cerebro’s power frightened her, just as her powers once terrified the mutant.
Something told her, though, that Rogue did not have time for them to await Charles’ recovery. The girl was alone and likely frightened, with no idea why someone was taking her prisoner. She had, after all, done nothing wrong.
Jean strode back over to the console, kneeling where Charles’ chair was usually placed. Glancing over her shoulder to ensure neither Scott nor Ororo was going to stop her, Jean lifted the thin head piece that acted as a conduit for telepathy and put it over her head.
Cerebro grabbed hold instantly. Jean heard a far-off cry of her name, but was lost in the powerful sensation of Cerebro hijacking her mental abilities. It took several minutes for her to focus, reaching out with all her power to locate the young girl spirited away by a malevolent madman.
“Rogue,” Jean whispered to herself, the sound echoing in the caverns of her mind. “Where are you?”
She saw the girl then, saw the image of Lady Liberty behind her. Jean gasped with realization as Cerebro let her go, vacating her mind so swiftly Jean collapsed onto the cool steel floor.
Scott was there then, lifting her, holding her and Jean felt a warm wave of triumph. She’d done it. She’d used Cerebro and she’d located Rogue.
In a pained whisper, Jean managed to tell her fiancé. “I know where Magneto’s going.”
