Aint No Business
Chapter 16
Epilogue Part One
Alternate Ending
*Six Months after the Earthquake in Sapporo*
The reporter tucked the loose strand of hair back behind her ear, and shifted her wireless microphone. She had forty seconds until the live feed started. Usually around this time she would finger her rosary beads or bury her hair head into her girlfriends neck and let her heart calm her. So much had happened to her and the woman behind the camera whom she loved with all of what was left of her soul. She had done a lot of rotten things to better herself and those in that pitiful sorry excuse of a neighborhood. The only person who bothered to ask about her or even remotely care about her was the woman who was trying to get her attention right now.
“Cali...Cali? CALLISTO RAMOS!”
“Huh? What, Sara?”
“Sweet heart, we have fifteen seconds left.” She whispered directions to the camera man about lense adjustment, then looked at the studio watch as she counted backwards. Sara new that Calisto always got nervous right before she got on camera, and she hated actually talking to celebrities. Most new her as an up and coming entertainment newscaster. She was rarely taken seriously. Sara knew it was her dream to be on the ABC’s World Evening News. As a producer, she new she was in a position to make it happen for her lover.
Her watch continued it’s count down. When it reached five she pointed at Callisto.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
“Hi Access Hollywood. I’m Callistio Ramos, and I’m reporting to you live from Grauman's Chinese Theatre in Los Angeles at the premiere of Bloodmoney. This power packed emotional film already has a ton of raving reviews at Toronto and Cannes, as well as quiet a lot of Oscar buzz This appear one of those signature films of the year.” When she got to the last part of her introduction, she found herself nearly shouting to her herself over the screaming paparazzi and fans shouting at the other A-listers attending the premiere.
“And coming down the red carpet now is top model Elizabeth Braddock. Lizzy! LIZZY! Over here.”
Callisto knew that the taller woman heard her the first time, even facing throngs of hundreds of screaming fans. All the celebrities from each venue of entertainment knew how to work the media. There was no such thing as bad publicity, and each star would make the press line or make a big show of not making the line. Either way was a big amount of exposure and both parties won It was an evil double edged sword, but it was a multi-billion dollar industry, so cry and complain as they wanted the “sword-handlers” managed just fine. She just gritted her teeth as she asked ridiculously shallow questions as, “who are you wearing,” and “how much was that stupidly glittering accessory.”
After posing for a few fan pictures and signing a couple of autographs Elizabeth ‘The Psylocke’ Braddock inhaled with a large amount of frustration plastered her in-demand flashy white smile, and made her way onto the Access Hollywood platform on the red carpet. Oh well, time to suck it up.
Before the interview started, she had a brief update of events surrounding the movie on a three by five card. She took a brief glance before Sara started the live feed.
“Hey Cali. What’s up.”
“Well, Psy, I could ask the same for you. You’ve had a very busy year. You brand new Cover Girl spokesmodel, you.”
“Stop that,” Elizabeth said with a playful wave of her hand. “Its been pretty good for me so far.”
“You’re the highest paid British model and the first Asian top model. So far, so good. What about your work with the Red Cross?”
For the first time since she arrived Betsy breathed a sigh of relief and actually smiled. “Well, I got involved with the Red Cross thanks to one of the producers of the film.”
“Would that be a Mister Worthington III?”
“Oh look, there he is now, WAR!” Betsy raised her arm to call him over and gave a beautiful shot that made photographers go wild. The handsome tall blond man cam over with a quiet swagger and snagged an arm around her waist. “Hey there, I was just talking about your work on the film.”
Had he been her type, Callisto would have inwardly oogled, and perhaps made a show of flirting, but she was happy when no feelings of attraction surfaced. “Warren, why don’t you tell us what happened during that devastating quake?”
“Oh no, I’m not going to get into that,” Warren said. “Bets,” he nudged her soft bottom, “wasn’t your friend on set that day.” He belatedly ignored her scowl and her panicky eyes.
She smiled, and quickly looked around for an excuse not to answer, and that’s when she saw her saviors.
“JOTT! Come on over,” she yelled. “We were just talking about you!”
“Jott? Whose Jott, Bets?” He answered his own question when two very famous faces came up to him. “Oh, I get it.”
Betsy just sighed. “I’m glad your pretty.” Before she could add another snarky retort her cell inside of her handbag began to vibrate with a text message. She held up a finger to signal her need for a private message. When she walked a few paces, she looked at her message:
Hey U
U dere yet
Ur dress is itchy
btw where’s ali
--Ro
With a few quick presses on her key pad she sent her response.
Poked ya
I here
take d dress off
make hairy gary take it off
btw isn’t ali wit u
“Psy
With that she rejoined the conversation.
As the second couple came up on the platform to talk, Sara nearly fell over. Callisto’s mouth was agape, and the camera nearly dropped the camera. They were going to get a red carpet interview with the suddenly reclusive Summers’. This night couldn’t get any better!
“Well look at this. Jean and Scott Summers. Is nice to see you both out and abo...” Before she could finish her sentence Jean had turned around to face Callisto and the space in between them was nearly obliterated by her protruding stomach. She turned her gaping visage to look at Sara who was quickly motioning to move the interview forward before the Summers’ could move on. There was no way she could let this bombshell slip through their hands.
“Wow,” Callisto said, once she managed to speak. “How are doing with your first upcoming birth?” Before she could answer, Callisto then turned the microphone to Scott Summers, and she nodded to his cane. “How has the recovery been for you?
Jean looked at her husband with wide eyes, and he threw his free hand around her waist and squeezed gently. No matter how prepared she was for this question, Jean didn’t want to have to play pretend-to-be-positive around her pregnancy. Sure all pregnancies were no walk in the park, but after 15 years of hard parting, binge drinking, vomiting for beauty, the occasional line of powered illegal substances, rough sex, over exercising, and the last eight years of just pretending to eat has, surprisingly enough, weakened her body. Who knew!
Life just wasn’t fair, she would never forgive those who let that happened. Sure some of it was her fault. She sighed. Alright all of it was her fault. No one put a gun to her head to make her do it, and there was those who tried to stop her.
It was painfully ironic that she spent so much time inhaling oxicodine, percecpts, and other pain medicines to get high, and now she couldn’t use them. Now at age 37, she was acting like a responsible adult. For shame.
Scott could feel her body loosen and sag. He whispered words of strength, and leaned into her. He could feel her take on the extra weight and rub her lurching stomach. He had faith in her to beat this depression, without medicine. Jean could take on the weight of the world if given the chance. All she needed was a little faith and love.
Inspiration was, more often than not, right under one’s nose.
He watched as his wife elegantly keep her composure while she skirted around the private questions that were asked. Her aloofness wasn’t a haunting reminder of how much she wasn’t there this time. It was quiet the opposite. It was her way of protecting her family’s privacy. Her family.
Him. Scott Summer’s was finally the only man she loved, and was attracted to. So, what it took this long. Now there was something more than himself to think about.
Rachel.
Even though he was drifting in and out, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and just tell her that he loved her. For her to remember about his social worker that protected him and who was able to get him out of abusive foster care was more than he could ever ask for. From right then and there his life had no where else to go but up.
Suddenly there was silence.
Jean looked at her husband, but was unable to read his face behind his red Oakleys. He looked as if he hadn’t heard the reporter’s question, so she nudged him “playfully” with her elbow.
“Ouch!”
She looked at the camera and the looked at him, waiting.
“Oh sorry, what did I miss?”
“So, Scott,” Callisto asked again, “got any up coming films that we should watch out for?”
“Well, yeah.”
Jean was stunned. Scott took this moment in.
“I’ve got two projects coming up. Didn’t I tell you sweety?”
“No,” was her tight lipped reply.
“Do you remember that roasted red pepper soup, and that grilled corn dish I made you?”
“Yes, of course it’s one of my favorites, especially since it stays down.”
“Didn’t you wonder where I got the sudden aptitude to cook? Good food, nonetheless.”
“I- - I didn’t figure... Scott that’s the only food I’ve been eating.”
Callisto looked back and forth at the couple. “What’s this all about?”
“I will be producing a cooking show starring a mutual friend. (He ignored Jean’s almost unnoticeable grunt.) After that, depending if my wife is up for it I have a documentary and a indie film I would like to work on.”
Before more questions could be asked, Jean wrapped her arm around her husband’s and dragged him away with a friendly wave.
“What,” he asked innocently.
“You have a bit of explaining to do. I mean you could have told me where at food came from.”
“Are you kidding!” He lowered his voice as he was being dragged into the theater. When she huffed and turned around to face him in a corner her placed his warm and elegant hands on her bare shoulders. When she calmed down enough, he took his right and thumbed her chin to bring her face up to his. “If I had told you that Ro had specifically designed the food you’ve been eating, and managed to keep down for all sorts of reasons, would you have eaten it?”
She tried to look away, but he held on to her. That very thought made her clear green eyes sparkle with unshed tears.
“You are the most stubborn person I know. All I wanted was for you to eat real food. God, Jean. I know you may not want to admit it, but Ororo saved your life and Rachel’s. I will be forever grateful for that.”
Jean leaned into her husband’s hand as his fingers brushed away her tears.
“Are you ready?”
“Hold on Slim. I can’t take this anymore.” His panicked stricken face caused her to snort. She used his shoulder as leverage to stand on one foot and took of her spiked Manolo. Sure the shoes matched her chiffon and lace dress, but they were murder on her swollen feet. If they didn’t come off, someone was going to die.
Scott bent down to lift up her dress in a slow and purely intentional way to remove her other shoe. He backed her up to sit on the window seal and rubbed some of the pain away.
She looked down to watch him work and then started to squirm.
“What’s wrong Red?”
Jean did what she could to peer at him and it just wasn’t working. There was a round wide tummy in the way. She couldn’t even see the top of his head. That’s when the giggles started. Sure being preggers had its perks, like being horny and eating four breakfasts, but there were down sides. Peeing every twenty-seven seconds, sex with a third party member (inside of you), and having to pee every twenty-seven seconds while trying to have sex with a third party member inside of you. Oh and there was the waddling. She rolled her eyes thinking about all the times Scott quaked at her at the most inopportune moments, usually during trips to the bathroom.
When Scott realized that Jean just wanted a glance up and a smile he did, and all he saw was tummy.
Both started laughing hysterically.
Scott took his wife’s hand and held her shoes in the other. When they walked into the theater to be greeted by friends and associates, all Scott saw was his wife’s adorable nearly skipping feet and that undeniable glow.
~Meanwhile~
*On the way to the Theater*
Logan adjusted his black silk bow tie for the forth time in two minutes, and began to fidget again in the smooth leather of the limo. He heard giggling to his left and turned to glare.
Kitty and Ororo did what they could to stifle them, but it was a lost cause. The bigger Peter made a show of not looking at him. The younger Peter and his fiery girlfriend Mary-Jane, shared a video ipod and were seemingly unaware of his predicament, until both glanced up and snickered.
“I hate all of you.”
“My friend,” Hank said with a hand on Logan’s shoulder, “let them be. You and I know that if they are not happy, we are not happy.”
“But I’m not happy!”
Hank’s eloquent girlfriend, Cecilia, chimed in “ and you never will be if you men don’t learn to bend over and take it.” She looked at her date then at Logan and rolled her eyes. “You should be secure enough in your manhood to do that?”
Logan gave her a wide eyed look as if she was actually seriously. “So let me get this straight““ He was cut of when a warm smooth hand caressed his upper thigh.
As much as the crown inside the stretch limo would have loved to see Logan and Cecilia verbally duke it out as usual, Ororo wanted nothing but smiles on the way there or else...
Logan put his hand on top of hers and squeezed; if she wasn’t careful someone could get an eyeful, or a handful. He grinned at his lady who offered him a dazzling smile right back. Then he turned to his oral nemesis and blew raspberries.
“Hey look, there they are,” Peter said. He pulled down the window to wave at the odd couple sight of Big Peter and the tiny Kitty Pryde next to him.
As they got out Peter looked at his girlfriend’s amazement. He knew that he wasn’t always the best significant other, nor was he always there for her, but he was going to do all that he could when he was. Mary-Jane dreamed of Hollywood. That was no different than the glitz and glam of any other average girl’s dream, but her’s were different. She was willing to actually work for it. The long hours, sleepless night, unbearable personalities, rejection after rejection, the research, the press, the low paying thankless jobs. All of it. Mary-jane wouldn’t tell people that she was a model, those who already knew would. But Peter knew that her true passion lie in the magnificent art of story telling. All she really wanted to do was direct. She was recently accepted into the a prestigious school for film making, and this premier was a congratulations gift. As they got out and mad their way through the red carpet, Peter nervously pulled Logan aside.
“So, is...is it all set up?”
“Oh that, I dunno. I haven’t really gotten to talk to Scott yet. Everything’s been a little crazy. I’m sorry Petie.” He put his hands in his pockets and nervously closed them around something that he hoped was worth it. The youth was crestfallen.
“Logan! Will you please stop doing that.” Ororo hated sounded like a “Mom,” but sometimes that man deserved it. “Scott is going to be waiting for the two of you. And he will still need an assistant, so make sure that he understands that MJ wants to work, and isn’t there to party.”
“Thanks Ms. Monroe! I’m going to talk to him now.”
“Aww that was sweet, Ms. Monroe,” Logan said. That just got him a look. He kissed her neck and hugged her. He had to bit his tongue at Ms. Monroe. Only a few more hours left... He held her a little tighter and shifted his weight, so he would stop pointing at her. It didn’t work.
Ororo looked down at him and noticed he was still fidgety and nervous. “Logan, what’s wrong? Your still wiggling. Spill. Now.”
“Nothing.” He began to lead her into the theater. They met their friends in the dim room and settled in, for the most part. Ororo sat in between Kitty and Logan. Both women were still watching Logan as he continued he nervous behavior.
Kitty nudged Ororo and whispered, “what’s up with him tonight?”
“I just thought he got nervous, you know, watching his final product. I mean watching everyone’s reaction the first time has got to make anyone nervous, right?”
“Roro, he’s never like this. Oh yeah, he also never comes to the premiers. Feel his forehead.”
Ororo reached across to feel his head but Logan had caught her hand and laced his fingers through hers.
Hank leaned across and told them all to shhh.
The opening credits came on and the insubordinate crowd still was making noise which caused Scott to turn around and glare at them.
By then, Logan had enough. He grabbed Ororo and pulled her out of the theater down the darkened hallway to the quiet corner away from prying eyes. He began tying doors until one of them would randomly open, so far no luck.
“James Howlett, I sear on all things holy if you don’t tell me what the he...mph,” before she could finish her threat she found herself in a very tightly crammed utility closet next to a closed vending counter.
She was about to ask more questions but her lover had her in a frantic embraced and his warm mouth had covered hers and began teasing her. She slowly ran her hands up his broad chest and across his silk lapels. Her mouth vibrated as he groaned inside of it.
“Logan, what’s going on?”
“I can’t take it any longer.”
He placed her hands one the back of his head and grabbed her shoulders to bring her down for another searing kiss. He frantically pushed her up against the wall that she already had her back against. After much writhing and more wiggling they had managed to get her legs squarely wrapped around his muscled waist. Her searing heat made him give an experimental thrust. His fingers thread down her thighs into her already soaking center. He pushed her panties to the side and began to rub her swollen nub already begging for attention.
The sudden attack her sensitive flesh made her hike up her knee, which promptly collided with a shelf full of cleaning supplies.
“Ouch, dammit.”
A spray bottle fell off the shelve and hit a dry mop. The mop fell and smacked Logan. He just snarled at it.
Ororo fumbled through his vest buttons, dress shirt, undershirt, until she was finally able to get to his belt. She had a difficult time undoing it with his clean shaven mug doing wonders to her bar neck, and his hands, which had slipped under her underwear to her ass grinding it to the same rhythm his body was rocking into hers.
Logan let his teeth graze her ear and whispered, “please.”
Ororo knew it was a rotten idea but she decided to throw caution out of the window.
She unbuttoned his belt and helped his pants and boxers slid down his hips enough to unleash his straining erection. Before she let go of his pants, she found an odd seemingly round but rectangular lump in his pocket. Again her train of thought was cut off when he latched on to a hardened nipple.
She looked down when she heard crinkling and found him ripping apart a condom. Ororo rolled her eyes.
“What,” he asked innocently.
“I can’t believe you brought one.”
“In case of emergencies. This is a flamin’ emergency.” He smirked at her as in swirled his index finger inside her.
Ororo was not one to argue this time and ripped the circular package open with her teeth.
After the material was slipped on, Logan gave her another thrust. Her inner walls squeezed him and momentarily held him helpless. He grabbed a nearby shelf and began to rock in and out of her. Her soft moans encouraged him. That’s when his grip on the shelf tightened, and caused it to crack.
Her right leg wrapped around his left leg while the other braced on a lower shelf. When she felt an oncoming orgasm, she lightly took note of the objects that had fallen all around them spilling some of their contents.
For an oddly glorious moment, everything was so...clean?
“Logan?”
“I ain’t goin’ nowhere, baby,” he said in a harsh whisper in her ear.
The speed of his thrust gathered to a near bruising pace. The arm that was possessively wrapped around her gripped as he came. Ororo heard her name expelled from his last breath before he collapsed on her shoulder for a brief respite.
When he had enough air to breath, he looked up and grinned. “Well, I feel A LOT better.” That just earned him another playful swat.
They helped each other dress and look somewhat presentable. Unfortunately what was left of Ororo’s updo was completely unsalvageable. Down it went.
Logan watched with glee as she straignted her silk slip and realized that she would need her panties.
“Hand them over, now!”
Logan sighed and gave them up. Both pieces of the lace.
“That is so not funny, James.”
“Uh oh, there’s that first name again.”
Ororo couldn’t help herself from laughing. “So what are you going to do about it?”
Now was his moment. This was his opportunity to grow up or shut up. No more half-assicity for him. Here was a woman who demanded and deserved everything that he could give and wanted to give. More than what was ever asked of him, and for that he loved her.
He lowered down to kiss her stomach and gathered himself on one knee. He heard her inhale sharply and not let it out, he saw her wide blue eyes get even wider. That’s when his hidden hand produced the small box that was in his pocket.
“Lo““
“Don’t. There is so much I want to say, Ro. I don’t even know where to begin. Jesus woman, do you have any idea what you do to me. I thought I was going to loose whats left of my damn mind watching you in that hospital bed not wakin’ up. I got ya this while your were sleepin’.”
She took the box and slowly opened it. The creaking of the velvet container was nerve wracking but it was worth it. The box held the most stunning piece of jewelry she’d ever seen. Ororo couldn’t believe that he had actually remember that conversation they had one night about her favorite pieces of jewelry.
He laughed when she told him about how blue was her favorite color and sapphires were her favorite things to look at. Ororo pouted when he asked about diamonds being her best friend. She told him about how her mother’s brother had been ruthlessly killed in the mines in South Africa over blood diamonds.
The ring in her hand was perfect for her. The royal blue center stone was nearly heart shaped and surrounded on both sides by her second favorite stone, opals. These two Australian opals twinkled periwinkle blue, rose pink, and an cloudy white. The platinum band secured all of the stones. It was glorious, and it was so shiny it seemed to wink at her.
“Psst..psst. Hey you, down here.”
Ororo reluctantly let her eyes drift downward to her lover. “Oh, I remember you.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
She smiled at him and his heart fluttered. He did believe that he already had his answer. All he needed to do was ask.
“Roro, will ya marry me?”
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