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Chapter 19

Shades of Humanity, part 3



At 3:17 am the X-Men were jarred awake by a large crash. Scott Summers bolted upright and sprang from the bed as a voice cried out in terror, piercing the stillness of the pre-dawn hours.

He was the first to make it into the hall and looked around in dazed surprise as the other team members joined him. It took only a moment for his sleepy mind to clear and realize what was happening. He turned to run down the corridor just as another crash sounded. With the team right behind him, Scott ran up the stairs to Ororo's loft, clearing the steps three at a time.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ororo had been shocked awake by the commotion that sprang up in the darkness of her room. Her mind raced in panic as she scrambled for the light next to the bed, almost knocking it off the bedside table.

Momentarily blinded by the sudden bright light she squinted beneath a raised hand trying to figure out what was going on. As her eyes adjusted, and Storm was able to focus, she saw Logan staggering around in a daze; eyes wide with terror, hands pawing at the walls.

Ororo watched in shock as Logan stumbled over the huge plants, scrambling to find an escape. He slammed into furniture, tripping and falling hard to the floor, but was on his feet again quickly as Ororo threw the covers aside and leapt from the bed.

She ran to him and tried to grab onto him to keep him still, but Logan pulled clear of her grasp and stumbled backward. In the grip of his nightmare Logan had no idea who was trying to capture him and he tried to move backward away from his assailant's clutching hands. Logan stumbled over a large potted fern and crashed to the floor again even as Storm grappled for him.

"Logan, it is me! Ororo!" she shouted to him as he scrambled away from her, hoping her voice could slice through the fog blanketing his mind in terror.

Each time she was able to grab onto his ankle Logan tried to kick her off and ended up pulling her along the wood floor. Impeded by her satin nightgown, Ororo was forced to let go each time she was pulled off balance as Wolverine fled from her.

He crawled away, scrambling backward through the plants, only to be met by a wall and he immediately got to his knees, running his hands frantically across the panelling, searching for a way out. As she heard sounds coming from the stairway behind her, Ororo shot a look over her shoulder and was relieved to see Scott who suddenly appeared at her door, stopping momentarily to assess the situation.

"Bad dream!"

That was all she needed to say and he quickly moved across the room to assist her. Half way across the loft Scott was hit by a cool breeze coming from the open balcony doors. He immediately realized that there was nothing between Wolverine and the open doors that would keep Logan from trying to escape that way... and it was a long way down.

Scott quickly detoured toward the doors, squeezing frantically between a small desk and a free-standing shelf unit that blocked his shortcut to the balcony. Once clear of the obstacles he moved quickly to secure the doors, but not quickly enough. Logan caught the scent and the feel of the crisp, fresh air and blindly turned toward it. Cyclops never made it to the doors.

"No!" Ororo shouted. "Scott...!"

At Storm's warning Cyclops turned around just in time to catch Logan as he tried to race for freedom. He knew that Wolverine's physical strength could easily overpower him, especially in a panicked state - and as Logan wasn't wearing enough clothes to grab onto - Scott did the only thing he could think of. He wrapped his arms around Logan's thickly muscled neck and threw himself backward to the floor, dragging Wolverine down with him.

Wolverine growled loudly as he struggled to get his feet back under him and Scott strained to keep his hold on the feral, squeezing his arms tight against his body so Logan wouldn't slip free. Logan got back to his feet, but was forced to remain bent over at the waist, as he dragged Summers off the floor, still wrapped in the leader's headlock.

Scott knew he couldn't keep Wolverine down on the ground by himself, but he figured he could at least slow the Canadian down. So he tried to keep Logan's head as low to the ground as possible while keeping the feral's back to the doors. Even so, those short powerful legs dug in and began to drag him slowly toward the outer doors.

Logan shook his head violently as he tried to dislodge the weight of the other man and grappled with the hands that were clasped tightly around his neck. He could hear Cyclops grunting under the strain of trying to wrangle a frenzied Wolverine all by himself.

The struggle lasted only a few moments, but was enough to exhaust all of Scott's strength. He honestly couldn't imagine being the victor in an actual wrestling match against the compacted power of that brawny little Canadian. Scott Summers couldn't even imagine being able to walk away from such an event. His strength was depleted just trying to hold the man in a headlock, so he was quite relieved to look up and see Colossus appear above him. Cyclops released his weary but determined hold on Wolverine.

With the weight now lifted from him, Logan straightened, turned in a flash and bolted for the doors. He landed only one step before Colossus reached out with one arm to block his path. His momentum was suddenly halted by the backward force of Peter's 'iron-girder' forearm against his chest. Logan was yanked off his feet, and the air forced from his lungs, as Peter twisted around with a smooth sweeping motion; lifting Logan off the floor and tossing him onto the bed. He immediately pinned the struggling X-Man under his weight as Ororo helped Scott to his feet.

"No!" Logan yelled as his mind registered the weight of his teammate holding him down. His voice was back to normal, clear and strong, and heads turned in surprise. "Let me go! It's not safe! Can't be trusted!"

"We trust you, tovarisch. Everything is alrigh,." Peter replied calmly.

"No. Danger here!"

"There is no danger. You are safe," Peter told him as the fog cleared from Logan's mind. He watched his friend calm down as he gained control of more rational thoughts and stopped fighting. Logan lay beneath his weight, his eyes closing as he tried to catch his breath and calm himself.

Ororo came to the bed and looked down at him, relieved to hear his voice. She reached out to touch his face and Logan unconsciously turned his face into the tender touch and opened his eyes.

"Ro," he said with true recognition. Storm nodded and smiled softly.

"Yes," she confirmed, then settled onto the bed beside him. "Please try to calm yourself, Logan. You had a bad dream, that is all. You are safe."

"What happened?" he asked blinking up at her through the lingering images flashing in his head. "Where are we?"

"We are home and you are safe," she answered. Logan's eyes searched the room trying to figure out why it was familiar. Ororo could almost hear what he was thinking: 'this isn't his room..!' So she added, "You are in my loft."

"Your loft?" he echoed in confusion, then became aware of Peter's hold. "You can let go now," he said quietly, and Peter looked to Ororo who nodded. He let go slowly and took a step back as Logan pulled himself up onto his elbows and looked around.

The entire team was standing there in their night clothes, half asleep and gaping at him. The men wore shorts and the women wore cool silky tops and night shorts. He tried to put it all together... it was summer... it was night... it was all a fog... his mind a blank.

"What the hell is goin' on?" he asked as he looked down at himself - filthy, half-naked, lyin' on Storm's bed with the X-Men standing in a circle around him.

Ororo watched him for a moment as his eyes moved about in search of the answers he didn't have. She gave him a moment and watched the scowl deepen on his features before she spoke again.

"Do you remember?" she asked softly. Logan shook his head slowly and his eyes shot to hers as he became aware of the tremendous weight of the long, thick mane now hanging about his shoulders. He lowered eyes as his hand came up, then he threw her a concerned look as he rolled from the bed.

"It is alright, Logan," she tried to assure him as he marched over to the mirror on her dresser. His hands clutched the edges of the bureau, his breath catching in his throat as he saw the truth of his reflection.

"Oh my god," he whispered in shame and horror.

"Logan... it is alright," Ororo repeated calmly as she stepped toward him.

"What did I do?" he asked no one in particular, but it was assumed by all that Ororo would handle this.

"You suffered a tremendous trauma..."

"How?" he interrupted without looking up. His voice vibrated with repressed anger. Ororo hesitated with the answer, not sure how much he could handle knowing right now. "What did I do?" he repeated harshly in the absence of her answer.

"You did nothing wrong," she stated clearly as she moved closer to him.

"Did I hurt anybody?" Logan demanded to know as he turned around to look at her. "What did I do??" he nearly shouted moving in on her in a threatening manner, but Storm knew better and held her ground. He stopped about a foot in front of her and glared up at her, but Ororo could see the pain in his eyes at the thought of what he already knew.

"You reacted... instinctively," Storm replied carefully.

"Instinctively," Logan echoed with controlled emotion. Ororo nodded, concentrating on holding his gaze. Then he turned his head to look at the concerned expressions of his other teammates who stood silently watching before turning back to Storm. "You mean... I went berserk," he clarified with a snarl.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Ororo answered truthfully, her voice full of compassion for her friend's feelings on the subject.

"I lost control," he said in disbelief as his eyes dropped to the floor. He couldn't believe it, those days were supposed to be behind him. Logan stared at the floor trying to sort through all the thoughts racing through his head.

"Logan..." Ororo said, reaching out to him. She had a sudden and intense desire to just hold him and give him comfort from this fear of his. But Logan sensed her plan and took an evasive step backward as his _expression changed from a confused frown to an angry scowl. There was no way in hell he was going to show weakness in front of her, in front of the team... in front of anyone.

Ororo watched as Wolverine's defenses came up hard and strong. She desperately wanted to plead with him not to shut them out, not to shut her out. She didn't get the chance.

"Well, you can all stand around here all night if you want to..." he shot out gruffly then turned for the door.

"Logan..."

"I got things to take care of," he informed them as he pushed through the crowd hovering around and marched to the door.

Storm looked over her shoulder at Scott. He gave a crisp nod and moved quickly around the bed to follow her down the stairs. The others slowly filed out to head back to their rooms.

"Wolverine!" Scott shouted as he trotted down the stairwell, gently pushing past Ororo to catch up, but Logan didn't stop. "Logan!" he yelled out again as he hit the floor in the main corridor, demanding that Logan stop.

"Leave it alone, Scott," Wolverine growled out as he continued to march down the hall toward his room.

"Wolverine! You've been through a lot, we all know that..."

"Drop it, Cyclops!" Logan ordered as he came to a sudden halt in front of his door causing Scott to check up quickly so as not to invade the troubled man's space. Logan turned the knob and let the door swing open.

Scott watched, expecting Wolverine to move into the room and lock them out, but he didn't. He just stood there; his head inclined in deep serious thought, his chest heaving under the stress and Scott watched him for a moment before speaking again. When he did his tone was quiet and sincere.

"Talk to us, man," Scott said, offering support. His tone made Wolverine turn his head slightly in his direction, but Logan couldn't bring himself to look the other man in the face.

"There's nothing to say," Logan replied quietly in return. He turned back to the open door and stepped in, shutting the door quietly behind him.




Most of the team had returned to their beds after the incident in Storm's loft, except Scott and Hank. Scott had offered to make a pot of coffee and they sat with Ororo in the kitchen, sometimes talking briefly but mostly reflecting silently on their friend's plight.

Scott stood from the table, picking up his mug and going back to the near empty pot on the counter. He poured himself another cup and offered another to his companions.

"Ororo?" he said again pulling her from her thoughts and she looked to him curiously. "Would you like another?" he repeated, lifting the pot slightly higher.

"Oh..." she exclaimed in mild surprise. "Umm..." she tilted her empty cup toward her to peer inside it then placed it on the saucer again before standing up. "No... thank you, Scott. I think..." she looked up to the clock on the wall to see that an hour had passed since they'd left Logan upstairs. "I think I'm going to go check on Logan."

She excused herself and left the kitchen. Scott returned to his seat exchanging glances with Hank before taking a sip of the hot beverage and the two shared each other's quiet company for a while longer.




Ororo stood outside the door for a moment, listening for any movement inside the room. She wondered if he'd fallen asleep while she'd been gone and thought it best to leave sleeping dogs lie, but knew she'd never get back to sleep herself unless she knew for sure that he was alright. She reached for the doorknob, but had second thoughts of just opening the door unannounced. Tapping her knuckles lightly against the door she called out quietly to him.

"Logan?"

No response. She knocked again and with her face close to the door Ororo called his name again. Logan was a very light sleeper and the lack of response from him caused her worry. Fear clutched at her belly as she wondered if he was alright or if he was even still in there. She hesitated only a moment then turned the knob, pushing the door open slowly and prepared to pull it shut again if he wasn't quite decent or in no mood for the intrusion.

The room was dark, save for the dawning light of the newly rising sun which gave her enough to see that he wasn't in the room. The bed was still turned down the way she'd left it and it was apparent that he hadn't even attempted to lie down on it.

"Logan?"

No response. Ororo pushed the door open the rest of the way, peering through the space between the hinges to make sure he wasn't lying in wait for her to enter. She had no idea what mindset he might be in at the moment and didn't want to find herself in an ambush situation. When the door came to rest, tapping lightly against the wall, Ororo stepped into the bedroom. The balcony doors were still closed and locked from the inside so he hadn't left that way. Turning, she looked toward the bathroom. The door was closed and a light shone from beneath it.

Ororo was relieved that Logan was still in the mansion, however the lack of sounds or activity behind the door made her curious. She moved across the room, approaching the closed door cautiously. She listened for a moment, waiting to hear the sound of running water or perhaps the opening and closing of cabinet doors as he prepared for bed, but there was no sound from the little room. She took half a step back, looking down at the sliver of light from beneath the door, watching for a shadow of movement.

Nothing.

She wondered what he could be doing in there, or.... what had he done? Her heart jumped into her throat and that same fear dropped like a brick into the pit of her stomach. Knowing that his healing factor served him well in most situations didn't alleviate the fear that he may be so emotionally distressed that he'd actually make an attempt to hurt himself. And it was his emotional and psychological state that worried her the most right now. Leaning her forehead against the door she closed her eyes in silent prayer. She spoke his name quietly, knowing that he'd hear her.

"Logan," her voice hitched with emotion. He didn't answer. Ororo placed one hand on the door beside her head, tapping her open palm lightly on the door, afraid to open it and find him inside. "Logan??" she rasped, her tone demanding with tension and fear. A sound. She caught her breath. Did he answer? She lifted her head and stared hopefully at the door.

She called to him once more and when no response was forthcoming Ororo decided to open the door. She fully expected him to call out angrily at the intrusion, but as the door slowly opened there was no such outburst. When the door opened wide enough to get a look inside, she just let it continue on its smooth swing as she stood there stunned by what she was seeing.

He was sitting on the edge of the tub with his feet on the tiled floor and a towel wrapped around his waist. It was barely large enough to cover him, exposing one thigh as he sat there unaware. He just sat there, not moving; his elbows resting on his knees, his face buried in his hands.

Ororo glanced around the room to see there'd been no attempt to clean himself up yet, although the cap was off the shaving cream and a black comb lay haphazardly in the sink as if he'd dropped it and didn't bother to retrieve it. All evidence showed that he hadn't showered or shaved yet; apparently he'd been overwhelmed while preparing to do so, at least that's the way it appeared to her.

As she stepped into the small cubicle Ororo noticed that he had cutting shears clutched tightly in his right hand. He'd been sitting there for a while, she surmised, probably since they'd first left him. It was difficult for her to take her eyes off of him - almost naked and every muscle bulging with tension - she could stand there all day just looking at him.

~ No she couldn't. ~

Shaking herself from her thoughts, Ororo grabbed another towel from the shelf and knelt down beside him. He didn't move, he didn't acknowledge her at all. Ororo looked at him closely; his hands covering his face, his fingers gripping the cutting tool so hard his knuckles had turned white. She released a quiet sigh then reached up to lay her hand gently upon his head. His body stiffened, but she'd barely noticed.

"Logan," she whispered softly.

He slowly raised his head to look at her with bloodshot eyes full of pain - a pain few people could understand. His eyes moved about her face gauging her _expression, which was full of understanding and compassion. He pursed his lips together tightly and breathed heavily through his nose. He tried not to tremble, but she could see... he was trying desperately not to cry.

She offered him a sad smile and reached up to pry the scissors gently from his fingers. Once she had them, she placed them on the floor behind her without saying a word. Ororo held his gaze as she unfolded the towel she'd brought over with her. Holding it open in front of him she pushed lightly against his forearms until he raised his elbows. He continued to stare into her eyes as she placed the extra towel across his lap. She felt less distracted with the added coverage although the towel he had on covered him mostly. He finally looked down, as if in a daze and smoothed the towel across his legs seemingly unaware of what was happening. Ororo watched him closely, waiting patiently. He finally looked back up at her and when he spoke, his voice was lifeless, void of all emotion.

"I'm lost."

"No, sweetie. You're not lost. You are home, right where you belong," she told him with extreme tenderness, brushing a curly lock from his forehead.

"I don't feel... like me," he told her and Ororo looked at him concerned. "I feel like... I'm outside of my body... can't feel anything... numb... don't know why..." he droned out.

Ororo got up on her knees and reached out to him as if wanting to embrace him, but she waited for his reaction. He watched her in a daze, taking a moment to realize what she was offering. Her change in position finally began to register in his mind, but he still wasn't sure if he was reading her correctly. So he lowered his head and slid toward her slightly, pensively, then he stopped. Ororo encouraged him by leaning closer to wrap her arms about his shoulders, trying to draw him closer without forcing him. When he realized that he'd gotten it right Logan slid off the tub, letting his legs fold up beneath him as he collapsed in her lap. He immediately wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, his fingers clawing at her back.

She leaned across his back, draping her body over him as if attempting to shelter him from the world. He gathered the material of her gown in his fists, clenching them tightly as if afraid to let go and she rocked him gently back and forth. Feeling him clawing at her, Storm closed her eyes tightly; unable to fathom such an intense need for comfort and affection. She bit back the sound as she wanted to cry out for him. She could feel his hunger for human contact, for that closeness and warmth only another human being could offer.

His need was overwhelming and Ororo found that she just couldn't hold him close enough. If she could've wrapped him in her very soul and bring him completely into herself, it still would not be close enough. His anguish and loneliness were just too great. She cried silent tears and let them roll down her cheeks, burying her face in his hair as she lifted him up in her arms. Resting his head against her chest and wrapping her arms about him, Ororo shed the tears that Logan couldn't. A long while later she felt him stir in her arms, releasing his grip on her clothes. He began to pull away from her and she loosened her embrace, raising her head to look at him.

Logan drew himself up in front of her looking into her eyes. She could see the pain that lingered there although it seemed to have lost some of its intensity. As he stared at her, Ororo felt a familiar pull, like the one they'd shared on the forest path. It was the feeling of uncertainty, but of completeness as well.

Logan reached up slowly and placed his palm against her cheek. He gently wiped away her tears with his thumb, then raised his other hand to do the same on the other side. He wiped away all evidence of the tears she'd shed for him. His thumb moved downward brushing across her lips. His touch was so gentle and Ororo felt an intense emotion building inside her. Logan stared at her lips as his thumb caressed them tenderly. Ororo couldn't help herself; she wanted his touch. She could feel his passion through his fingertips and she wanted him to kiss her.

"Logan," she whispered, unable to keep silent and she trembled beneath his hands. Ororo closed her eyes trying to control her reactions. Logan watched her, then moved closer. He gently pressed his lips to hers waiting for her to pull away, but she didn't. Parting his lips slightly, he moved his mouth tenderly against hers and she responded to him. Opening her mouth slowly, Ororo invited him in.

Logan kissed her softly, but passionately, and she kissed him back the same kind of intensity. Ororo brought her hands up to his head, holding him to her. The action caused him to let out a low moan and she took the sound into her mouth, feeling it ripple through her entire body. He tasted so good and he made her feel so alive. How could she have denied him for so long? How could she deny him any longer?

She tightened her embrace, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. He could smell her desire for him and the scent made him tremble. His fingers came up to grip her shoulder tightly and suddenly he broke away and Ororo opened her eyes in surprise. Logan looked at her intently for a moment as he tried to catch his breath. Ororo stared wide-eyed at him as she tried to cling to the memory of how he'd felt against her lips, his own were firm and yet so soft. She could taste him on her tongue and wanted more.

Logan moved away first, breaking eye contact and getting to his feet. The towel she'd placed across his lap fell to the floor in front of her and Ororo reflexively picked it up as Logan extended a hand to help her to her feet.

Ororo accepted his offer, placing her hand in his and shifted her position to rise from the floor. In doing so her eyes fell upon the reason for his quick retreat. She averted her eyes quickly from the towel wrapped around his waist, which was now stretched a bit tighter as it tried to cover his semi-aroused state.

She sprang to her feet quickly, wondering how in the world she kept finding herself in that particular position. A bit flustered by the thought, it took her a moment to get the image out of her head and try to control her embarrassment so she could look at him. Logan stood quietly, waiting for her. It was quite apparent by her reaction and the change in her scent that she was suddenly very uncomfortable. A wave of shame hit him as he realized why she was so uncomfortable and he dropped his gaze.

Ororo caught his reaction out of the corner of her eye and glanced at him, realizing she'd over-reacted to the situation when she saw the look on his face. Storm needed to reconnect with him quickly and hopefully keep building on the foundation of trust she'd had with him in the forest. She hoped that even though he didn't remember their time together in the wilderness that perhaps the feelings would remain. She didn't want to lose that.

She looked at him sadly as he stood there with his head down. His hair, still too long and heavy falling across his shoulders and into his face.

"Why don't you take a shower and get cleaned up," she mentioned quietly. "You'll probably feel much better afterward." Logan nodded and Storm bent down to retrieve the shears, leaving them on the edge of the sink. Then she moved to the door and turned around. "I'll wait for you," she told him, then shut the door to leave him to his privacy. She settled into the chair outside the door and a moment later she heard the water in the shower turn on. As she waited Ororo dozed off.



Half an hour later, she was drawn from her slumber by the sudden silence as the rhythmic drumming of the shower water was turned off. She could hear him moving about as cabinet doors opened and closed, then the slooshing sound of pressurized foam being forced from a can. Ororo could imagine him standing at the sink trying to shave off the thick stiff beard he'd grown. Fifteen minutes passed before the door opened, letting the steam roll out into the bedroom and the brighter light washing over her.

She could see him silhouetted in the doorway just before he stepped out and he paused a moment realizing he wasn't alone. He turned his head to see Ororo sit up in the chair abruptly, as she realized he'd emerged with only the towel wrapped around him.

"Sorry... didn't know you were still here," he said as she stood up.

"No, I'm sorry, Logan. I just thought..." Ororo felt as though she'd intruded on his feeling of privacy and tried to explain. "I thought you may like your hair cut," she offered.

"Oh," Logan replied feeling a bit awkward, then he glanced at her. "You gonna do it?"

"I thought I might... if that's okay," she answered. It never occurred to her that he'd come out wearing only a towel and she felt uneasy as the physical attraction she felt for him came to the forefront again. Logan didn't seem to pick up on it though and she figured, perhaps, he was still shaking off the effects of everything that'd happened in the past few days.

"Yeah... sure," he shrugged a bit with a nod. Ororo found it amazingly odd that after all they'd been through together - not just in the past week, but through the years - that they both were behaving as if they'd just met. She walked toward him and he gestured toward the wooden chair tucked under the desk.

"Here?" he asked.

"Sure," she replied. He nodded and, as he pulled the chair out and sat down, Ororo went into the bathroom and returned with the shears in hand. She didn't approach him right away as he was settling in, adjusting himself to make sure he wasn't exposed anywhere, then he sat back with a deep exhaling breath. Ororo waited until he looked up at her then she raised the small scissors slightly in front of her.

"Is this okay?" she asked. He looked at the scissors and she saw him swallow as, she'd known, his first instinctive thought was to not let her near him with the 'weapon' in her hand. He mulled it over for a moment then his eyes met hers and he nodded.

"You sure?" Ororo asked wanting to make it clear that he had a choice in the matter. Logan hesitated only a couple of seconds then nodded again.

Ororo moved around behind him and he didn't move, he just sat very still. Then she glanced down at him as she realized he was sitting too still; not moving an inch, frozen. He was tense and unsure even though he'd given consent. He was trying to show her that he trusted her, or at least that he wanted to give her a chance to prove that he could.

Storm reached around him and placed the shears on the desk in front of him in plain view. As she returned to her position behind him Logan glanced at the bladed object. His brow furrowed in mild confusion as he wondered what she was up to, then he felt her hands run through his hair. Ororo gathered up the long strands and pulled them back behind his shoulders, smoothing the jet black tresses across his back. The heavy weight of the water in his hair caused the mane to stretch down to his shoulder blades, straight and luxurious to the touch.

She combed her fingers through his hair gently, scraping her fingernails lightly against his scalp and he slowly tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Ororo looked down at him as he relaxed under her caress. A short while later she twisted his hair into a loose ponytail and let it hang down the center of his back, placing her hands on his thick shoulders she began to massage his neck. He felt good under her hands, solid and strong.

His head fell forward slowly as she rubbed away all his tension and anxiety and Ororo tilted her head as she looked at him in the mirror. Something caught her attention in the reflection and she looked down at him and smiled softly. The hair on top of his head, toward the sides, was beginning to curl upward as it dried to start forming the twin peaks she'd come to love.

Feeling that he was now sufficiently relaxed Ororo gave his shoulders one final squeeze to signal that she was moving on now. He raised his head and looked at her in the glass just as she leaned across his shoulder to pick the shears off the desk. Once she had them in hand, she could feel him looking at her.

Logan had always possessed a weighty stare; an intense gaze people could literally feel boring into them. You always knew when he was watching you. Ororo turned her head to look at him over her shoulder before returning to her position behind him.

"Are you alright?" she asked quietly and Logan nodded. Ororo knitted her brow as she looked at him, noticing how young he looked at this very moment. Perhaps it was the absence of the facial hair, or maybe the _expression of uncertainty in his eyes, or possibly it was his healing factor at work. And perhaps it was all three combined.

For all any of them knew Logan could be two hundred years old, but his healing factor was always working to regenerate damaged cells or accelerating their production, as was evidenced by how quickly his hair would grow and of course how quickly he mended from injury. It appeared to her, looking at him now, that it also worked like a veritable 'fountain of youth', causing Logan to never really seem grow older than his 'prime years'.

Unaware that she was staring at him, Ororo suddenly felt his hand glide up her arm. She was aware of it, but was somehow mesmerized by his gaze and unable, or unwilling, to pull away. Logan gently guided her out from behind him, drawing her toward him. She followed his lead, leaning toward him as he pulled her closer and, as her face neared his, Ororo reached out to rest her palm against his jaw. Their eyes were locked in a visual embrace and Ororo felt him entrancing her, like a cobra in it's deadly dance, until her lips softly met his.

Again he began to move his mouth slowly around hers and, again, she reacted to him. She'd never been kissed this way before, not like this, not until today. The windrider never feared the rains, or floods or torrential downpours... she'd never feared drowning, until now. And even now she didn't fear. His kisses made her head swim and she *wanted* to drown in them. He kissed her with true love and quiet passion. It was a pure kiss, one without greed or lust. It was soft and tender and trusting - without dominance or aggression, nor did it demand anything more.

Half a minute later the moment ended and they parted. Logan looked past her, not meeting her eyes as she stared at him in awe. He made no attempt to speak of it, he did not challenge her feelings nor did he gloat. He didn't assert himself nor ask for anything more. He finally gave her hand a gentle squeeze and lowered his gaze.

Ororo couldn't stop staring at him, transfixed by what he'd just done. He hadn't just kissed her, he'd exposed the deepest most vulnerable part of himself to her. He'd taken a huge step in showing her that much, and now...
He was waiting. He was waiting quietly for her to dismiss him and come up with an excuse for her actions. He was waiting for her to reject him and the gift he'd just given her.

How could she? He was not the only one exposed by that kiss. But still he waited, not asking her to confirm her own feelings but waiting for her to deny them. She would do neither.

Ororo straightened and moved behind him again. She gave his shoulder a firm squeeze and he looked up at her reflection. She gave him a small smile and he lowered his chin with a nod. They were okay and Logan let out the breath he was holding.

"Do you have a comb?" she asked casually as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place. Logan leaned forward and opened the drawer of the desk. Reaching in he produced a clean comb and shut the drawer with the back of his hand. Sitting back again, he offered her the comb over his shoulder.

As she took it from him, Ororo let her fingers linger on his and it was all that was needed to reassure him they really were okay. Logan settled into the chair as she pulled his hair back again, which had fallen forward when he leaned toward the desk. Gathering the mass of it in her hand she cut off an eight inch length of it in one cut. Of course she had to cut again and again as she made her way through the thick, dense mass and her fingers ached by the time she'd made it through it all. She let out a satisfied, triumphant sound as the final strand let go. Then she waved it in front of his face with a joyful laugh and she was rewarded with an almost bashful and appreciative smile from Logan.

Ororo continued to work as Logan sat in silence turning his head this way or that as she'd indicate. She'd smile to herself as he'd occasionally try to blow away a loose hair that would fall into his face tickling his nose, only to eventually have to brush it away with his hand anyway.

Forty minutes after she'd begun her task it was done. She patted him on the shoulder to signal him to open his eyes and he looked in the mirror. Then he quirked a smile at her.

She went into the bathroom to rinse the comb and shears and came back with a soft bristled grooming brush to see Logan trying desperately to rub the irritating pieces from his face with both hands. Ororo stepped up in front of him. Leaning down, she smiled and waited. He rubbed his face hard a few more times then dropped his hands to his lap, blowing air out in a last frustrated attempt. His expelled air caught Storm right in the face and she squeezed her eyes shut reflexively. Logan looked at her abashedly as she opened her eyes just enough to peek at him to make sure he was finished. She smiled and raised the brush to show him.

"This works much better," she informed him with a soft laugh and he closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of the soft bristles wisping away the annoying follicles. She brushed the loose hairs from his face, neck, shoulders and chest. As she withdrew the brush, she pinched his chin lightly between her finger and thumb and he opened his eyes.

"Your whiskers are growing back already," she whispered. He knew that and nodded, after all, it'd been an hour since he'd shaved. He suddenly yawned, covering his mouth with the back of his fisted hand. "You should get some rest," she said quietly. He nodded then gave her a questioning look, but he didn't ask aloud. Ororo sensed what he wanted to ask and decided to offer instead. "Would you like me to stay with you?"

Logan hesitated, thinking about it. It felt weird to him to acknowledge such a thing, but she did offer. He looked at her uncertain and nodded lowering his eyes again.

"Good. Because I could use another few hours myself and really do not feel like going all the way back to my room. Is it alright if we share?" He smiled gratefully at her, appreciating her attempt to help him save face in what was for him awkward situation. "Okay, come on." She moved to the bed and Logan stood up, realizing then he was still wearing only a towel. He looked down at himself, then to her. Ororo knew what he was thinking. "It's okay," she told him. "Come on."

Storm held the covers open and he walked over and slid into the bed. She draped the blanket and sheet over him as he got comfortable on the pillow then walked to the opposite side and laid down on top of the covers.

Logan, realizing she was not covered herself, reached over and pulled a throw blanket from a side chair nearby, handing it to her over his shoulder. Ororo thanked him and spread it out over her. She looked down at him beside her, his back to her. Ororo laid down next to him, then slowly curled up behind him putting one hand on his arm. A moment later, Logan reached up and took her hand from his arm, dragging it down to hold it against his chest. Ororo cuddled up close to him, moulding her body to his and they both fell asleep feeling safe... and loved.


TBC in "A Civil Reprieve" part 1





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