Ororo hummed happily as she seemingly float into the space that currently had all the looks and feel of a new backyard garden. It wasn't near where she wanted this one to look like, but she was almost there…just a little more planting, tweaks and pruning and she'll have a garden she had envisioned for a while now. She stopped in the middle of the garden and tipped her head back and allowed the heat of the afternoon sun's rays to glaze over the coppery hue of her skin for a few glorious seconds, before moving on to the spot where she was going to work on this afternoon. She took her time kneeling onto the saturated earth and placed her tools around her. She slipped on the gardening gloves and picked up her trusty trowel and began to work.

Spring time had always been her favorite time of the year. It was the simplest season because for her, it signaled a new beginning, not just for the Earth, but for every living thing that depended on the Earth replenishing itself. It was quite simply, an opportunity to renew and nurture oneself. She fine-tuned her hearing as the indomitable Wolverine had taught her and caught the many individual sounds vying for attention, the bustling of various insects as they went around gathering food or engaging in some sort of mischief, the bubbling water of the lake nearby, the soft hum of the wind flowing through the trees, and the musical chirping of the birds and calls of the other animals that took refuge around the property.

Next, she recorded the many scents that Gaea had blessed them with this beautiful day. As Gaea's daughter, she took great pleasure in logging the scents of the now blooming flora and fruits that had made their home on the property and the ones she had planted last fall. The scents of the trees, that were once again brimming with renewed energy and the aroma wafting up from the moist earth that was a result of the cleansing rain shower she had given it last night, during….ahem. She smiled softly at the memory, courtesy of the man who was now following her out the back door, dressed in a blue flannel shirt and skin tight worn out denim. The sneakers on this feet had clearly seen better days, but was a pleasant change from his battered work boots. In his hands he carried a chilled bottle of Molson and the evening newspaper. He gave her a salacious wink before taking up his position in the garden.

Ororo rewarded him with a sweet smile before bending her head to concentrate on her task. Thinking about the many scents around her, brought her back to the one question she had always wanted to ask her companion. She knew from his perch on one of the two stone benches in the garden, he was pretending to read the newspaper he currently held in front of his handsome face. Without a doubt, she knew that his attention and interest were currently focused on her, from where she was positioned to the left of him, on all fours, planting the hybrids of black iris, jasmine, African tulips and Cattleyas orchids, Hank had finally mastered to withstand all four seasons of the unpredictable Northeast climate. Although, he appeared to be immerse in reading about current world events and his beloved hockey, she knew all of him was engrossed in her. Ororo couldn't help but feel a certain level of pride in having that knowledge and she most certainly couldn't help the way that pride currently manifested itself.

Since he joined her, he had paid close attention and cataloged every move she had made. He had heard and felt every breath she took, saw every position she shifted her lithe form into, heard every sound she made and scented her heady aroma mixed with that of the soil and plants she was currently tending too. Logan lowered the newspaper an inch to feast his eyes on her enticing position. He suppressed an appreciative growl, choosing instead to grin when the change in her scent drifted towards him. He knew that she was very much aware that all his concentration was directed to her and not in the happenings of the turmoil of the Middle East as accounted by the Westchester Chronicle. He took a subtle whiff, separating her pungent and distinctive aroma from the others and allowing it to tickle his nostrils. Her scent was an addiction for him, one that he sure as hell didn't intend on kicking. Like a man needed oxygen and food to survive, he needed the heady scent that belonged to the wind rider.

"Logan?" Her rich honeyed voice was music to his ears and brought him out of his trance.

He grunted. She had learned over the years to distinguish and decipher his grunts. This one basically told her he was listening.

"There is something I have always wanted to ask you."

Logan completely lowered the newspaper and shifted his eyes towards her. He rose his shaggy brows, urging her to continue. "Ask away, darlin'."

Ororo pulled her lower lip between her two perfect rows of white teeth. She glanced up at him from her knelt position in the moist soil. "You wholeheartedly enjoy very few things. Your beers, cigars and whisky are…"

"Those not at the top 'o my list, sweetheart," he interrupted around a smirk, his eyes leisurely perusing her. "There's something else I enjoy way more than all that."

Ororo blushed becomingly before continuing. "My question is, why do you enjoy those things so much, when others find them so repulsive?"

Logan placed the paper to rest under the empty beer bottle next to him. "Really darlin'. Ya don't find them repulsive."

Ororo removed first one gardening glove, then the other, then stood slowly, groaning as the muscles in her back rebelled. "Of course not, dearest." She tossed a loving smile over to him. "But I have always wondered how you came to enjoy those simple things."

He closed his eyes and smiled. Ororo was always captivated during the times his face would transform into a childlike look whenever it would contort into a genuine smile. He had told her that smiling was easy for him whenever he was in her presence. She was happy that she could give him reason to do something as simple as smiling. According to the man himself, it was one of the many gifts she had given to him over the years.

"I'm a simple man," he began, his eyes still closed. "I leave the finer things in life ta ya."

Ororo's rich chuckle rang out. She was accustomed to the general consensus around the mansion being that she was the most elegant and graceful of all the residents.

"One thing ta know, darlin'," he continued, opening his eyes, "One man's displeasure is another man's bliss."

Ororo's head swiveled towards the feral warrior, her well sculpted brows rising in curiosity.

Logan grinned. He knew he had piqued her interest with that bit of philosophy. He tossed another one out for the hell of it. "Simple pleasures are life's greatest treasures, darlin'."

She laughed softly. "Keep that up and I would have to ruin your reputation by letting it be known you read."

Logan grasped his chest in mock horror. "Oh fer shame, darlin'."

His deep growly laugh soon joined hers. "I don't smoke cigars just ta smoke." Everyone thought that his smoking was a bad habit picked up somewhere along the line of his long life. They couldn't be more wrong. "One 'o the first things I remember offerin' me something similar ta peace after I got away from Weapon X was the scent of tobacco. I don't know if I smoked before they got ta me…" he trailed off with a scowl, hating the reminder of his lost past.

Ororo sensing his distraction, guided her fragrance to him on a light breeze. He grinned at her, knowing exactly what she did and why she did it.

Logan stood and stretched like a lazy mountain lion. "Ya know my senses are a big part of me and I have ta always keep 'em active. The scent and taste of simple things like whisky, tobacco and beer helps me ta do that."

He walked around the garden a bit, stopping to admire some of her handiwork. "I like the smell of tobacco because it's clean and sweet. I like the bitter taste of beer and the biting strong smell and taste of whisky. They're all comfortin' ta me, 'Ro." He turned and leveled her with an intense gaze. "Just like ya. Ya're the most comfortin' ta me."

Ororo wasn't surprised to hear that. It was something his actions and words told her every day. She made her way over to inspect the budding lychee fruit, listening to his words. The fruit should be ready for harvesting by next week, she mused.

"Everythin' about ya is a comfort ta me 'Ro, but nothing more so than yer scent." He paused, taking a moment to appreciate the subject of his affection. He gave her his lopsided smirk. "Yer scent gets me goin' every time, darlin'. Ain't nothin' that can compare ta it. It's one of a kind, just like ya."

She turned from her inspection of the fruit and asked with a twinkle in her eyes, "Is that so, dear heart?"

Logan barked with laughter. "Yeah, like ya don't know."

"Your scent has always been fascinating to me as well, Logan. Reassuring, safe and captivating," she admitted. His powerful scent was a mixture of the tobacco he loved so much and the outdoors. It was very addictive, utterly male and downright sinful.

"Is that so?" He mimicked her earlier question.

"Yes, like you do not know," she tossed back his own words at him.

Logan moved stealthily and before she knew it, she was being cocooned into the safety of his solid bulk. He growled playfully, nuzzling the mark on the right side of her collarbone that sealed their fates. His hands automatically reached down to cradle the nest where the seed he had planted was thriving. He took a deep breath, cataloging the saccharine scent of the addition that he had known about since he had first heard its heartbeat and Hank had informed them just this morning would be here in six months. For this treasure right here, he had changed his entire way of approaching one of his simple pleasures. He had tapered off on his smoking since hearing his cub's heartbeat and scenting its sweet smell. He had rationed himself to one cigar a day and showering after partaking of his vice. He wasn't going to subject 'Ro nor their cub to any of the threats nicotine posed. Yes, 'Ro had a healing factor as well, but he wasn't taking any chances. Her wellbeing and that of their cub were his top priority.

He groaned as her scent increased and enfolded him. Her natural scent was even more potent coupled with that of their cub growing inside her. "Ya smell good, darlin'. Real good."

As always, the comfort and peace she felt being encased in his arms took over and Ororo covered his hands with hers where they laid over their miracle. Miracle because this one had been ten years in the making and Ororo had felt that all hope for a child of her own was lost once she had hit thirty six years of age. Her fingers skimmed the tungsten band on his left hand, deriving calm out of the simple action. It was incredible to her how two lost souls as she and Logan could have started out searching for different things and eventually found their way to each other. And once they had made their way to each other, everything had fallen into place for them with such ease…notwithstanding the constant danger of the lives they lived as mutants.

His gruff voice drew her out of her thoughts. "What's goin' on in that beautiful head of yers?"

"Just thinking about the many ways you and I are alike and how much deeper our connection goes beyond the elemental and primal," she answered smoothly, turning in his embrace to loop her slender arms around his neck.

His lips swooped down to capture hers in an unhurried kiss. He touched his forehead to hers as they silently held each other's gaze and reveled in each other's taste and scent.

After a while, Ororo extricated herself from his stronghold, turned and then extended her arm for him to take. "Come my love. We must get ready for Charles' birthday celebration."

And as simple as that, he allowed her glorious scent to entrap him and follow her into the home they shared as husband and wife. The center of all his life's simple pleasures was definitely anywhere his Goddess was and he had no desire to wander away from the endless loop of love, peace and joy she kept him in, in search of any other pleasures the world may offer.





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