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Kevin had more than his fair share of being left alone.

Doctor Who blared in the background, but he was too caught up in his thoughts.

Mum was due to make another of her guilty visits home to see him. Kevin didn’t know why she bothered.

The landscape around him was unearthly and beautiful, an amalgam of the land and shore around Kinross Keep. The view kept changing, one scene changing from the next, even though it was fed to his chamber by the security cameras around Moira’s complex. Kevin could see his way out to her world, but how he saw it was up to him. Kevin could bend reality, including how he himself and others saw and felt it.

Nothing helped. He was living in his own idea of hell. He blamed Mum for it. She made him this way, and she kept him like this.

Eilish made insignificant attempts to keep him entertained, even consoled. She left cookies, comics and other comfort items in the small compartment adjacent to his chamber, sliding them into the tiny dumbwaiter. He mumbled his thanks, and she gave him those sympathetic smiles that he despised.

Visits from Japh and Jamie were taken with an equal lack of enthusiasm. And why should he be glad to see them? They went everywhere they wanted. Even though they were freaks “ Japheth in particular “ they could live their lives in the bodies God gave them, without endangering anyone else, or themselves.

Kevin’s body was unstable. His containment chamber bound him in an energy field that held his molecules in check, stabilizing them enough for him to retain cohesion, mentally and physically. In a sense, his body was energy.

He never regretted killing his father. He sensed no love in him; he was only a shell. Kevin still felt love for Mum, on some level that he couldn’t describe, perhaps the way a child loves a favorite toy.

Eventually, sooner than anyone thought, she would become his toy.

He turned his attention to the dense forest surrounding the north side of the keep. Everything else was relatively calm…

Someone was running away. Or…something?

He turned off the television with a thought, ignoring its brief beep and the screen flashing black.

His mind wasn’t in close enough range to the consciousness of his subject. It annoyed him. This was the most excitement he’d have all day.

He felt the light, faint touch of young thoughts. A girl’s, even though he couldn’t see the owner.

A large wolf darted out from the bushes, loping with difficulty into the clearing. Kevin could see it was exhausted from its uneven gait and the saliva dripping from its black lips. It was a beautiful animal, he mused, unlike the plainer gray ones that occasionally showed up, pushed out of their habitat by new construction in the county. This one had gorgeous russet fur and yellow eyes.

There was a commotion brewing behind her. He heard the rush of footsteps pounding the earth, mingling with angry cries. One man’s voice rose above the din.

“Sinner!”

“Judgment is nearly upon ye!”

“Get her!”

“She’s tirin’ out, Reverend!”

Three days. Rahne was exhausted and weak with hunger and thirst, and her body ached from muzzle to the tip of her tail.

She stumbled over a tree root, and they swarmed over her.

She growled and snarled, baring her teeth. She was clubbed behind her left ear for her troubles. She clawed and bit at the myriad hands trying to bind her. Someone brought a length of rope and began winding it around her flailing limbs. Rahne barked and flung her head back and forth. Her eyes looked sinister in the darkness, only enflaming the villagers more. Pain gripped her as the rope twisted more tightly around her ribs.

Jamie and Japheth watched from the perimeter, unnoticed.

“This is all wrong,” Jamie muttered. “Should’ve called animal control. Why all this trouble for one wolf?”

“Got me,” Japheth shrugged, but he felt just as unsettled. The wolf’s growls were dying down to low whines, and it tugged at him to see a living creature mistreated in such a way.

The local authorities warned them to stay indoors until they caught the lone wolf roaming through the countryside. They had no word yet as to whether it was rabid.

“We need to get in there and help it.”

“Nuh-uh! You won’t catch this boykie gettin’ that close t’that thing!”

“We can just let it go,” Jamie reasoned.

Kevin was the only one who saw the boys hovering back from the commotion, and he smirked.

“Useless sods,” he muttered.

They surprised him, though, when Jamie balled up his fist and socked himself in the chest. Then again, with a flourish. And again.

Soon he’d created his own mini-mob. Beside him, Japheth’s face was straining in agony as two small, strange growths erupted from his chest.

Kevin watched, rapt, as they dealt with the angry mob. His day suddenly became very, very interesting, indeed.

The wolf was writhing on the ground, held down by two men who were trying to gag it with the rope. Kevin still felt those panicked thoughts, more frantic this time, but he couldn’t tell who it was within the crowd broadcasting them. He felt pity for the animal and contempt for its captors. They were tormenting it when a shot to the head would have finished the job. Still, it was a waste of a fine beast.

All of the sudden, the tide of activity shifted. The crowd seemed to be fighting itself…

Kevin saw Jamie hauling a boy roughly his size away from the animal. He also made out a small, grayish…thing… leaping out at the Reverend, knocking the stake from his hand. Kevin frowned at such an extreme; really, who did the man think he was going after, bluidy Dracula?

Kevin dropped the cookie he’d been about to absorb “ not eat, since he couldn’t process food like everyone else “ and swore at the sight of the strange gray blob consuming the stake as it landed on the ground. The Reverend looked stricken. And sickened, if the way he turned away to wretch was any indication…

“Oh, bravo,” Kevin murmured.

Jamie popped up amidst the crowd again…and again…and again?

Kevin knew that his mother described those two bastards as being “like him,” but he didn’t buy it. Not until now…

He was fascinated by the sight of the strange gray creature oozing along the grass and slithering back up Japheth’s body. It disappeared with some effort into his chest. Japheth looked different, as well, as though he’d been fortified with new strength.

Nourished.

He rejoined the fray. They slowly drove back the crowd.

“Dinna interrupt God’s work!” Reverend Craig was florid and out of breath.

“Like what? You’re torturing it! What does God have to do with that?” Jamie was indignant as he stared him down.

“I knew I couldn’t expect more than blasphemy from any wretch under Dr. MacTaggert’s roof,” he spat. “She’s just as much of a sinner as that thing.”

“It’s a wolf,” Jamie shrugged.

“Yeah,” Japheth chimed in. Without giving it any thought, he ducked as a large man attempted to club him. He grasped him by the sleeve and bowled him into three of the other villagers trying to attack them again.

“It’s a Beast from the pit,” Reverend Craig corrected them. “And she needs to go back!”

“She?” Japheth muttered. “How can y’even tell?” The creature whined in her throat and continued to fidget in the ropes.

“I don’t need ye tae challenge me authority in this. Back off,” he warned them.

“Nay, boyo,” a smooth voice countered from behind the crowd. “YE need tae back off, ye sanctimonious bastard.” Moira wove her way through the crowd, eyeing all of them in disgust.

Kevin had been so caught up in watching the spectacle he never even sensed his mother’s thoughts. Her next words surprised him.

“And I ken ye need tae leave that poor colleen alone. She’s done nothing wrong.” Kevin wondered if his mother had gone daft.

“Her greatest sin was being born,” Reverend Craig insisted flatly.

“Nay. Her greatest misfortune was being thrust into yuir loving, tender care. Yuir a hypocrite and a bigot, and ye always have been.”

“Yuir sainted husband wouldn’t have tolerated that kind of sassy talk.”

“Joe was no saint. Ye can go tae Hell, then, and give him my regards.”

“Witch!”

“Och, get out of the way. Jamie, ye have some explaining t’do when we sit down for supper tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said sheepishly.

“Bring them with ye,” she muttered, waving her hand at his duplicates. Only then did the crowd notice that there were four identical boys joining their guardian. The Reverend was agog.

“What’re ye bluidy idiots doing, listening tae him? Have ye lost yuir senses? Go on, there’s nothing tae see. Go home,” she snapped.

“But the beast, it’s dangerous, we can’t let it near our children!” a woman insisted.

“That so-called beast isn’t much more than a child herself. I take full responsibility. Not only that, but I plan on taking protective custody of her, as well.”

“Ye have no rights?”

“Oh, but I do. Ye were about tae unlawfully murder a wolf by cruel means. Never mind that ye endangered a child, as well, and committed Lord knows how many years of unmitigated abuse. Shame on ye, Reverend.”

Kevin felt the shift in the girl’s emotions and it slowly dawned on him where the source was.

The wolf was the girl.

“There’s a good lass,” Moira crooned as she pushed aside the crowd and made her way to the animal. She knelt by it, unafraid of her panting maw and sharp-looking teeth. Carefully she unbound the ropes and combed her fingers through its thick fur to comfort it. “Poor wee bairn,” she tsked. “Ye dinna have tae hide anymore.”

She watched as the wolf’s body shifted, slowly lengthening, limbs seeming to unfold and stretch. Her muzzle retracted, forming a jaw and chin, and the pointed ears lowered themselves on her skull, moving to the sides of her head.

“D’ye…promise?” she rasped. She was weak and began to tremble. Moira gathered her into her arms and cradled her, beckoning to Japheth to give her his long-sleeved shirt.

“Aye, lass.”

The crowd was horrified by the sight of the russet-furred creature that almost resembled a girl. Japheth came forward and scooped her up; his long shirt covered her to mid-thigh due to his massive size and her petite build, and she was grateful.

“She’s not human!”

“Aye, she is, but I kinna say the same for all of ye,” Moira corrected them.

By the time they skirted around the villagers and made their way toward Moira’s front gate, Rahne had completed her transformation back to normal. Once they were inside, she was already curled in Japheth’s arms, asleep.

“You have her? Is she all right?” Charles inquired, concerned.

“She’ll be right as rain, luv,” Moira promised, leaning down to kiss him. “I only wish we’d gotten tae her sooner. Poor colleen.”

“She’s young to have already manifested her gift.”

“Perhaps she did it tae protect herself. The Reverend is the next best thing Kinross has tae a village idiot.”

“I heard her thoughts. She’s a bright girl.”

“And sweet, too, aye. Wouldn’t harm a soul.”

“Does she have any family?”

“Och, Charley, I dinna believe she does. He was her guardian, if ye could call him that.” Moira opened the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of juice. “But not anymore.”

“What do you intend to do?”

“What I do best. I’m contacting the county tae see about her birth records and if she has any known family. If not, then I see no reason tae send her back where she was. I dinna mind another mouth tae feed, Charley. If there’s any family where a colleen like her belongs, it’s in ours.” Charles made a thoughtful sound and watched Moira tuck her into the small guest bed. The girl sighed in her sleep and burrowed further beneath the blankets.

An hour later, Moira’s words about “another mouth to feed” came back to her. The girl had the appetite of a lumberjack.


*

“Are you all right?”

“I don’t need ya tiptoein’ around me, Red. I’m fine. Told ya that three times already.”

“Can you blame me?” She gave him an accusing look that screamed Are you really that dense?

“Give it a rest, then.”

“You and Ororo,” she mused, shaking her head. Logan grunted over the rim of his coffee cup. The brew was strong and hot, just how he liked it. Logan had no vested interest in sleep, lately. If anything, he was more vigilant than before.

It had been hard for Charles to leave. Moira had their tickets to Edinburgh booked for weeks, and they managed to make their way to Moira’s isle mere days before a storm broadcasted to last roughly a week.

“Neither of you act like I have reason to be upset,” Jean complained. “Her, I almost understand. I love her, but she’s always brushed it off whenever anything groundshaking happens around here that makes me ready to pee my pants. But don’t you sit there and act like it’s no big deal, buddy.” She poked him with one manicured pink nail.

“Darlin’, I ain’t gonna elaborate when I tell ya that this is just another day at work fer me.” A half-truth wasn’t as bad as a lie, in his mind.

This time, it involved Ororo. By that rationale, yes, he should have been falling apart. But Logan couldn’t afford to.

“What kind of work do you do, anyway? You’ve never been chatty about it. Enlighten me.” Jean’s voice was slightly frosty and her green eyes brooked no bullshit.

“Nothin’ ya wanna worry yer pretty head about, Princess. Ya know I ain’t a Boy Scout. That’s all ya need ta know.”

“You’re such a fucking liar,” she hissed, planting herself before him, arms folded across her chest. “I don’t know why you bother to stay. So far, Charles has been attacked, almost KILLED, since you’ve been here. So much for you protecting anybody. You seem to bring trouble to our front door.”

“Yer the psychic,” Logan countered, even though her words had stung him, echoing his own accusing thoughts. “Ya didn’t see that comin’ any quicker than I did. Sounds like ya wanna pin the blame on me, which I don’t have a problem with, but one teeny word of advice.” His dark eyes flattened into chips. “Ya don’t call me a liar if yer smart.”

“What are you going to do about what happened?”

“Whaddya expect?” Logan finished the coffee and placed the mug in the sink, wiping away the sweaty brown ring from the table with his crumpled napkin. “Keep an eye on her and open my ears.”

“Why aren’t you now?”

“A woman’s gotta powder her nose sometime.”

“Sheesh…”

“I don’t know what ya want me ta tell ya, Red.” He stood and leaned back against the counter, arms crossed like hers. Jean looked at him, really looked at him, and saw that the fine lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes were deeper, lately. His face was leaner, and he seemed tired, despite his healing factor.

His weariness ran soul-deep, beyond any weakness of the flesh.

“She just throws both of you into the sky in the middle of the night, practically killing you in the process, and there’s no explanation?”

“Not one that makes sense. Darlin’, she wasn’t herself. She wasn’t in here,” he emphasized, tapping his temple. “Whole ‘lights are on, nobody’s home’ thing never described anything better than what happened with ‘Ro. I heard her talkin’ in her sleep. She sounded upset. Ain’t the first time, either. Figure ya know this by now.”

“I heard her once, when I was up a few weeks ago in the middle of the night with a migraine. I went to her room. I knocked, and she didn’t answer, so I walked in. It was odd.” Jean’s brows furrowed and she kneaded her nape. “She couldn’t hear me when I said her name. And this is the weird thing.”

“Lay it on me.”

“I couldn’t understand her. They were words, not just sounds, but they weren’t in English.” Logan felt a cold flush.

“It ain’t. That’s what I told Charley. I told ‘Ro, too, once. She acted like she didn’t wanna believe me. Shook it off like it was no big deal, and I know that ta her, it ain’t.”

“What’s she dreaming about?”

“She never tells Charley. She never seems ta be able ta tell anyone. I was there with her, and I had no clue. All she keeps sayin’ is ‘Help.’ That’s the most that I can make out. That, and she keeps callin’ Farouk’s name.” Jean grew pale.

“But why? He’s horrible, he’s a monster! Logan, his mind…he’s just…” Jean couldn’t continue. Her pallor sickened slightly, and she looked ready to embarrass herself. Logan wisely fetched a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from the refrigerator’s filter tap. Jean gulped it down, took a few gasping breaths to center herself, then drank the rest. “Thanks. I needed that.”

“Sometimes I’m glad I can’t do what you an’ Charley do, seein’ inside people’s heads. There’s too much stuff I don’t wanna know.”

“Sometimes, you’re lucky,” she agreed. “Why Farouk? He won’t help her.”

“He did something ta ‘Ro when she was just a sprite. Changed her. Ya wanna know why she seems to hard ta crack sometimes, it’s because of what happened back then. When ya go through something like what ‘Ro went through, yer mind wants ta throw it out. Somethin’ inside ya just can’t handle it. Ya bury it. Ya tell yerself it don’t exist. Ya find ways ta lose yerself. Sometimes, that works.” As if to prove his point, Logan fished in his shirt pocket for his cigar. Jean wrinkled her nose but didn’t complain when he trimmed the end and lit up, standing by the open window sill. “Charley thinks I can get through ta her, somehow. Never would’ve come back ta the states, otherwise. Didn’t have anyone ta come back for until he wrote ta me.” A plume of smoke billowed out from his lips. “But I’d always come back fer ‘Ro. Spent too many nights worryin’ and wonderin’ about her after we went through hell ta save her from that bastard. When ya look at Ororo…I can’t even tell ya what it’s like, Jeannie…ya see her soul in her face. It’s perfect and pure and it just blinds ya, because ya can’t believe something that sacred and beautiful exists, or that ya have the right ta even witness it. Especially a hard-assed sonofabitch like me, with my bloody hands. Felt that way about her then. And I feel that way about her now.”

“No. You love her now.” Jean’s attention to Logan’s words had grown into awe the more he spoke. “Wow.”

“Don’t get ahead of yerself, Red,” he muttered, chewing on the Cuban and looking annoyed.

“You do. You’re in love with her.” She looked aghast.

“That ain’t what I came here for. I care about her. I wanna make sure she’s outta danger so she can live the life she shoulda had before Farouk messed with her mind. That’s all, Jeannie. Don’t make it into anything else.”

Except now Logan knew he was the liar. Jean remembered his earlier warning and wisely held her tongue.

“I don’t know what changed. It’s like she cracked,” Logan went on. “Have ya ever even once seen Ororo afraid?”

“Never,” she said without pause.

“Right. Ever. She was scared, Jeannie. She was scared and cryin’ like a little girl.”

“Oh, my God.”

“It’s like, she wasn’t the ‘Ro we know. But, I think that’s the ‘Ro she was supposed ta be. And whatever it is that made her go ballistic like that, she’s tryin’ ta fight her way away from it. She said something ta me, Jeannie.”

“What?”

“She said ‘Don’t make me feel.’ And she asked me why I was making her hurt me.”

“Don’t make me feel?” Jean repeated.

“Yeah.” She could tell Logan was shaken, even though he just continued his smoke and stared out the window.

“I guess it makes sense. Sometimes, I have to shut myself down. My powers have an ‘on’ switch where I’m aware of everyone around me, so much so that it’s part of my brain’s background noise. I hear everyone, and I feel what they do. I absorb it, and sometimes, when I’ve extended myself too much, I can’t turn it off. And I can’t handle it. Victor…” Her voice trailed off again, and she looked pale again. Logan stood and rubbed her neck soothingly when she leaned over the counter, breathing deeply through her nose and closing her eyes. “It was like bathing in filth, feeling some of the things he felt. It took me a while to feel like myself again, Logan. But…it frightens me. I still feel stained by his rage, and his lust for blood. His hate. Until those last few minutes before he was gone, he had never felt remorse. How could he live that way?”

“When ya’ve lived too long and seen too much, that starts ta be the only way ya can, Red. Don’t mean it’s right.”

“With Ororo, I can’t read her thoughts. Not the way I can anyone else’s. But I know she’s there. It’s just like this warm presence in the room, like when you come inside out of the cold. It’s comforting. I can feel her psychic imprint, and I can speak to her telepathically, but I can’t ‘read’ her. She’d have to invite me in. Just like you would.”

“What do ya read from me?”

“Trouble.”

“Bingo.”


*


His talk with Jean left him unsatisfied and restless. She didn’t get much of a promise out of him to be careful.

What he never expected was for Ororo to show up on his doorstep.

He was so caught up in his mission to get out of the house that he never even noticed her scent in the hallway as he opened his door to leave.

She stood before him, hand raised in the act of knocking. She let her hand drop.

Her face was serene “ as always “ but her posture became more plaintive, taking up less space in the doorway. She almost seemed to hug herself with her slender arms.

“Where are you going?” she demanded. “You didn’t say you had any plans.”

“Ya didn’t ask.”

“I assumed you were going to be here at the house for a while.”

“I ain’t leavin’ the grounds, darlin’. Just this room. Why? What’s it matter to ya if I step out fer a while?”

“It doesn’t,” she shrugged. She didn’t smell like she was lying. No change in her heartbeat or pulse. “Just curious.”

“What brings ya my way? Ya need anything?”

“No. Not really.” She seemed to have something on her mind. Logan wished futilely that she would be more forthcoming.

She was beautiful. Her hair was loose and slightly wild, as though she’d just come back from a ride. She wore a classic “plain white tee” that looked like it came out of a Fruit of a Loom package, well worn and slightly transparent from several washings. Her jeans hugged and cupped her curves as usual, and she still had on her Ropers. She’d sensibly worn a bra this time; it didn’t help Logan’s self-control much that it was black, its outline easy to see beneath the thin fabric.

“So ya need me ta stick around?”

“Only if you want to stick around.”

And so their usual dance began.

Logan took off his Stetson and set it back on the desk.

“Don’t let me stop you.”

“Ya ain’t stoppin’ me.”

She perused his room, intrigued. She’d never shown much interest before in stopping by to see him, even though he’d visited her loft on rare occasions, usually on some errand of Moira’s or just out of concern.

They hadn’t been intimate since that night. Logan called himself a sensible man, among other less flattering names in the wake of what happened. But even now, with her wandering into his personal space, running her fingers along the surfaces of his furniture, opening his closet, Logan felt invaded.

“It’s different since you’ve been here.”

“Yeah?”

“Smells different,” she remarked, almost slyly. Only a hint of a smile played at the corners of her mouth. He suppressed confusion as she opened his closet door the entire way and began to slide his hangers across the rod, one by one.

“Do ya rummage through people’s medicine cabinets when ya go ta visit?”

“This isn’t a medicine cabinet. You’re right here, so it’s fair game. It’s not like I’m sneaking around behind your back.” Logan snorted, but it was still disconcerting, watching her poke around, making thoughtful sounds in her throat.

She pulled out his jacket and stroked the distressed leather, surprised at how soft it felt. She leaned down and buried her nose in the collar. Logan’s chest shook.

“What the heck are ya doin’, ‘Ro?”

“Nothing.” She took a deep whiff, and it twisted his gut when she sighed in…what, contentment? He caught the deep rise and fall of her chest with the gesture, and she closed her eyes, taking another breath.

Ororo carefully removed it from the hanger, setting it back on the rod, and she slipped into his jacket. “Mmmmm, comfy,” she murmured appreciatively.

She was killing him.

She looked sexy as hell in his jacket, and it unsettled him how envious he felt of the worn leather wrapped around her. It was like the adult version of a girl playing dress-up. She turned to his full-length mirror briefly and straightened, tugging on the front flaps to adjust its hang. Her full breasts seemed to nudge it open. She reached beneath the collar and deftly flicked her long mane free, letting it tumble down her back. The hint of static made it cling to the jacket and her face.

“Ya didn’t just come up ta go shoppin’ in my closet. What’s up? Ya need anything?”

“Not…need,” she offered. Her voice sounded far away as she continued to stare at her own reflection. She hugged herself in the jacket, almost treating it like a security blanket. “I don’t know why, but I just wanted to come see you. No reason.”

“None, huh? Bored?”

“I guess.”

“Lonely?” he pondered.

“I don’t know.”

“Why don’t ya?”

“Because I don’t know how that feels,” she admitted. Something in her tone was bereft, but still matter-of-fact.

“Well, there ya go. I can help ya with either, darlin’, but only if ya want me to. If not, then I’ll bail.”

“I don’t need any help.”

“Sure?”

“I want…”

“Ya want…?” He made a rolling gesture with his hand, accompanying it with an impatient cock of his eyebrow. Yet he had plenty of time for this. All Logan ever had was time.

“I want to tell you I’m sorry.”

Logan’s hand dropped. He folded his burly arms and leaned back against the edge of the desk.

“Okay. Apology accepted.”

“I should probably tell you why.”

“Shoot. Make yerself comfortable.” The suggestion was laughable and too late, since she already had. But Ororo pulled out his chair, turned it so the back was facing him and straddled it. Yup. She was killing him.

“I don’t remember much about what happened before we hit the water. All I knew was that it was my fault. And that I hurt you.”

“Been hurt worse.”

“But this time, it was me who did it.” Despite her other failings, she was capable of regret. “I know that maybe, I guess, we don’t always know where we stand with each other.” That was another first. He just assumed she thought she knew. “But…I wouldn’t hurt you, Logan. Never if I could help it.”

“I’ll help ya figure out where ya stand with me. I’d never hurt ya either, darlin’. I only came in yer room because ya sounded scared, and I was worried. I don’t want ya thinkin’ I was takin’ liberties-“

“You weren’t.” Her voice was abrupt. Her expression and voice didn’t change, but her quick response surprised him.

“I’ve heard ya before at night. Talkin’ in yer sleep. Ya know that by now. This time was different. How much can ya remember?”

“Bits and pieces. Being wet.” Logan stifled a groan. He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“So we’re back ta this. Ya don’t remember yer dreams.”

“No.”

“Shit.”

“I can’t help it, Logan.”

“Maybe ya need ta try harder, darlin’.” She frowned slightly.

“Why would I want to remember something that obviously made me upset?”

“Because that’s how ya conquer bad dreams. Ya step back inside ‘em and tell yerself not ta be afraid. Ya remember what it was that put it inside yer head, so ya can cope with it when yer awake. Difference is, darlin’, yer dreams aren’t just yer usual ‘something that goes bump in the night’ or a monster in yer closet.”

“Maybe you need to fill in some details about what you heard, then.”

“Have ya got all day?” he snorted.

“It might help. Somewhere in those bits and pieces, I remember feeling…different. Angry?” She cocked her head to the side, like a curious kitten.

“Yeah. Ya were.”

“I don’t know why.”

“Ya weren’t too happy with me.”

“I don’t have a problem with you!” She huffed a sound like a laugh.

“No. On some level, ya do. That’s what makes it hard. I wanna be here if ya need me, but I’ve gotta tell ya, darlin’, I feel like I’m goin’ around in circles. I don’t know if it’s that ya don’t need me, or that ya don’t wanna need me.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

“I know ya don’t.” What else was new?

“But it doesn’t matter.”

“How do ya figure?”

“Because you need me.”

“I do.” It was a question, in a way.

“You do.”

Logan took a gamble. His voice sounded hollow, unlike his.

“What gets me, what keeps me up at night, darlin’, is that yer right. And how do ya feel about that?”

“I don’t know how to feel about that.”

Frustration choked him.

What did him in was how blithe she was about it. Could she really not gage how worked up she was making him? Couldn’t she see him straining at the seams?

Logan’s nostrils flared and he gritted his teeth. “It was nice hangin’ out with ya, kiddo. We’ve really gotta do this again.” He leaned away from the sill and retrieved his hat. “Just hang that back up when ya-“

“You do need me.” His free hand was balled up. Logan breathed deep and closed his eyes. When he opened them, his face bore the ravages of her words.

“Are ya fuckin’ kidding me? Do ya really need me ta stand here and give ya a prize? Feelin’ this way about ya isn’t helpin’ me, darlin’. I don’t know what yer gettin’ outta hearin’ me tell ya that. Maybe it’s how ya get yer jollies, but fer me, it ain’t exactly a walk in the park. I don’t need ta feel this way about ya, but I do. I’m bangin’ myself into the same wall, knowin’ that it doesn’t matter how I feel, because ya won’t, or ya can’t, feel that way about me. The sane part of me says it’s because ya can’t. But I ain’t got so much of an ego that I can’t admit it’s because ya won’t.”

Those blue eyes followed his movements and gesticulations, drinking in the pain in his face as he tried to escape his own room.

“Then let’s keep this simple, Logan. You do need me.”

“Beat it ta death, why don’t ya?” He threw up his hands in annoyance. He was still lathered up and chafed. She stood and walked around the chair. Carefully she removed the jacket, stroking it reverently and hanging it back up. Her scent closed in on him, wrapping around him as she approached.

He felt her pluck the hat from his tight grip and set it down on the desk.

“You need me to hold you,” she argued. She touched him for the first time since she tugged him from the lake. Her fingertips traced a line from his wrist along his arm until she closed her hand around the slope of his shoulder, burning him through the soft flannel. She beckoned him with a light tug. His body ignored his brain’s command to stay put, and he stepped forward as she leaned into him and wound her arms around his neck. His breath shuddered out from his lips at the feel of her, right where he craved her.

“I knew you’d be okay,” she told him. Her voice sounded faraway, even as it stirred against his ear. Her palms skimmed over his back soothingly, caressing him, re-learning the feel of him. “You heal. Knock you down, you get back up.”

“In a nutshell,” he grumbled, but speech was proving difficult. His tongue felt thick. His fingers tightened, threatening to dig into her lower back. His sigh was heavy and he resisted the urge to kiss the curve of her shoulder, where it joined with her neck.

“But it was hard to watch you lying there, just floating and not making a sound. I expected you to just come out of the water like you did before. And I did that to you. Your lips were blue. You were just floating there like a rag doll. I know you flipped us around at the last minute. You landed first.”

“I heal.”

“It was still stupid,” she accused. “I control water currents, too, not just the ones in the air. That’s how I got you back to shore.”

“Shit…” He’d wondered how they’d gotten his back to shore. Poor Jeannie and Stevie were scared out of their wits when Phillip helped them cart him dripping and senseless into the house.

“You couldn’t hear me.”

“Yes, I could.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Didn’t mean ta scare ya.”

“You didn’t. I…I just wanted you to wake up.”

“Never figured it woulda made a difference.”

“It did. It does.” Her soft cheek grazed the side of his neck, and her skin was warm. Her grip on him didn’t lie; her embrace was fierce yet tender, and he sighed as her fingers crept into his hair, combing through it and massaging his scalp. “It makes a difference to me,” she repeated.

“Okay,” he rumbled, indulging his earlier whim. His lips drifted to that spot, brushing it, tasting it, and Ororo responded in kind, turning her lips into his hair, nuzzling his temple.

“Okay, then.” She leaned back slowly, lifting her head from the nook of his shoulder. She’d grown drowsy from their embrace, not realizing how comfortable it felt with him gathered so close, sharing his heartbeat and warmth.

He wasn’t ready for her to leave. Before she could let go of him, his fingers caught hold of her thick fall of hair, bunching it around his fist. He tugged her down to his kiss, and she moaned in approval. Her voice resonated through him as she stole his breath.

*


He’d heard her. Her voice was plaintive, not frantic, but still insistent that he wake up. His skin smarted as sensation returned; he’d wished it hadn’t when the pain set in. He was freezing, teeth chattering and muscles locked in an effort to warm back up.

“You’re okay, Logan. Wake up, now. Please, wake up!” She’d jarred him, trying to shake him awake. He felt her hands briskly rubbing warmth back into his arms, and she gently cradled his head in her lap. Jean, on the other hand, was in hysterics and was smothering him in a thick blanket that made him itch while feeling returned to his limbs.

His body felt broken from the impact with the water. He took the brunt of it and hit the surface first. Pain exploded in his spine. He’d taken worse falls, with worse landings, but he had to protect ‘Ro, even if it meant protecting her from herself. The breath was knocked out of his lungs before the water closed up over them. He felt them sinking into the darkness, even as his legs instinctively began to kick.

Her heartbeat buoyed him; he heard it in the velvety, cold darkness around them. A rush of air bubbles fluttered against their bare flesh. His lungs burned. They seemed to bob, then slowly return to the surface, but he didn’t know if it was by any effort of his own that got them there…

*

Her kiss offered comfort and the closest thing she could give him to an apology. His thumb feathered her cheekbone as he deepened their kiss, groaning with need.

Ororo only knew that she didn’t want to let go. He felt too tangible, too satisfying, and she was addicted to his need. She lapped up his flavors and textures, lips rasped by his rough stubble as she kissed him hungrily.

They’d flung open the floodgates. Logan couldn’t stop his hands from groping her, pulling at her; he couldn’t undress her fast enough. The kiss was only broken long enough to jerk the bothersome shirt over her head, making her long hair whip and fall back around her face again, but this time the silky mass clung to them both as he devoured her lips.

She was just as impatient. He heard two buttons pop loose and felt the cool rush of air against his skin as she scraped the shirt from his chest, letting it hang by its tails from his waistband. Her hands wouldn’t stop their roam over his flesh, firm and deliciously hot. They stumbled back and turned; Ororo inadvertently bit his lip as her bare back hit the wall. His knee pushed her thighs apart and she rode it, grinding against him while he worked on the tiny front clasp of her bra.

It popped open, letting her breasts spill free. She heard his groan of satisfaction and relief as he captured one, cradling it in his palm. In the back of her mind, she sighed over how much he seemed to like them…then he bowed his lips to her sensitive nipple, making her arch against him.

They were crossing that line again, possibly treading the road to ruin. Logan, for his own part, didn’t need a map.

The worn denim chafed her, a sharp contrast to the smooth sheets beneath her back as Logan jerked off her boots and peeled off her jeans. She lay naked and tousled, staring up at him wantonly as he yanked open his belt and fly. His boxers had the good grace to come off with his pants as he shucked them. She eyed Logan’s erection, rosy and turgid; she wrapped her palm around it as he crawled over her, appreciating its solid, silky feel. He sucked in a breath, pausing half-straddled while she loosely pumped him. Her thumb slicked over the plump head, tracing the long vein along its underside.

“You feel so good, Logan,” she whispered.

“Yeah?” His voice was a hoarse grunt that wouldn’t work.

“So good,” she repeated, scooting closer so she could explore him. Ororo slid her palm over the crisp mat of curls between his thighs, appreciating their texture and the treasure they protected. She cupped his balls protectively, delicately caressing them. His hips jerked in pleasure. She continued to work on him, changing her grip as she kept scooting down on the bed, farther, until his thighs straddled her ribcage instead of her legs.

“C’mon, ‘Ro, what’re ya…oh, God,” he whimpered as she couched his package in the nook between her breasts and began to suckle him.


*


Downstairs, Jean read the style section of the morning paper and finished her second cup of coffee. She heard Scott come in before he approached without looking up.

He gave her what she began to think of as his “first grope of the day,” wresting the page from her hand and tipping her head for a mauling kiss. He wasn’t shy; his hand slipped inside the neckline of her green henley and found her breast, kneading it greedily. Her body began to respond, but she wondered again, why this change in his appetite? What was going on with Scott?

The phone rang. Jean didn’t know whether or not to be grateful.

“Phone,” she murmured beneath his lips.

“So?” He was attacking her neck, nipping her a bit too hard.

“Scott…phone! Let me get that, it might be Charles!” She wrested herself from him, using an almost imperceptible thrust of her TK. He huffed in surprise and annoyance as she got up and snagged the handset before its last ring.

“H’lo? MOIRA!” Jean was all smiles. “How’s the weather?”

“Bout what ye’d expect. Usual dreich we get this time of year, colleen.”

“How’s that girl?”

“Snug as a bug. Lassie’s healthy and just so happy t’be away from that vile man. Sweet lass, too. Keeps helpin’ Eilish, loves playing football wi’ Japh and Jamie. Think she has a crush on him, frankly.”

“It’s not mutual?” Jean hoped.

“Thank the Lord above, nay.” Moira chuckled. “Bless her wee little heart.” Then she sobered. “How is Ororo?”

“The same. I don’t know if Logan’s been able to get through to her about what happened. She’s just so closed up.” Jean turned toward the window looking out over the yard. Behind her, Scott stared, amused.

“Och,” Moira muttered. “That’s what I’m afraid of, lovey. I’m just relieved that he’s there.”

“I want to be relieved,” Jean confessed. “But you know Logan. He’s just…Logan.”

“Charley has a lot of faith in him, colleen. I’ve been noticing differences in her since he’s been at the house. Not much, aye, but it’s a start. The only problem is, I feel…” She hesitated.

“What, Moira?”

“I feel like there’s a breaththrough coming on. Something’s about to come loose. Lass has been holding herself in check so long… no one can do that forever.”

“Farouk seems to want her to,” Jean mused. Scott smirked, pausing as he searched for a glass in the cabinet.

“When are you coming home?” Jean asked.

“We’re not sure. Charley wants tae spend more time wi’ young Rahne.”

“That’s a lovely name.”

“She’s a lovely lass. Ye’ll like her, I ken, and she, yuirself.”

“I bet. Ororo and I will have another shopping buddy.”

“About that…Charley and I have been thinking a lot of late.”

“About what?”

“About…possibly living on one continent, instead of two.”

“Where? Here or Kinross?”

“That’s still up in the air. But we’ve been leanin’ towards Kinross.”

“I don’t whether to be happy or sad,” Jean admitted, “but I’m so glad you and Charles don’t have to be away from each other, either way.”

“Nothing can keep me away from my Charley except death, and even then, not for long.”

“Can I talk to him?”

“Aye. Here he is.” Jean listened to Moira’s call in the background and Charles’ answering approval as he came to the phone. He sounded happy.

“How is she?” he asked without preamble.

“It’s good to hear from you too, Professor.”

“Hello, child. Excuse my rudeness.”

“And she’s fine. Closed up tighter than a clam, but fine.”

“So nothing’s changed.”

“No.”

“Maybe we need to take a different tack, then.”

“Such as?”

“Would you be in the mood to come to Scotland?”

“You’re kidding?” Jean practically danced with excitement. She spun around to find Scott looking amused. “Scotland” she mouthed, point into the handset. “You and me!”

“We may be spending more time here, so that Moira can tie up some loose ends, and she she can finalize arrangements in regard to the Sinclair girl.”

“Rahne Sinclair,” Jean said thoughtfully.

“Possible Rahne Mactaggert.”

“Oh, Professor!’ Jean gushed.

“Moira believes strongly in adoption, in case you hadn’t noticed,” he teased, but she heard the joy in his voice.

“I can’t wait. I’m packing my bags.”

“Tell Ororo to pack hers, too. I’d like to talk to hre about a brief sabbatical. Moira and I would like more time with her, for more reasons than I can describe.”

“She’s your daughter; why wouldn’t you?”

“Exactly. I’ll call you once I set the arrangements, dear.”

“Thank you. You’re the best. I can’t tell you what this means.” A few more fond words, and they hung up.

“I can’t wait to tell Ororo. Wonder when she’s coming downstairs?”


*

She was milking him, squeezing him between the cushioning vise of her breasts. Logan’s hips thrust and jerked, letting his cock probe the confines of her hot wetness. Her eyes closed in contentment as he reached down to tug at her nipple, then covered her hands as she gripped herself.

She was pushing him; he was too close and he still wanted her. He drew back, letting his stiff flesh pop loose from her mouth.

“Don’t, I wasn’t finished,” she complained, missing the press of his body pinning her against the mattress and the tight clamp of his thighs.

“We ain’t finished, darlin’, don’t worry yer pretty little head.” He leaned back and changed his position, lying back with his feet up by her head. He grasped her ankles and flipped her to her side, scissored her legs open, and bowed his face to her sex.

“Oh!” Her voice was surprised, then dreamy as his breath steamed over her lips. His tongue darted out to taste her, tracing her soft folds, and he settled down to his feast. Ororo’s eyes cinched shut and she arched against him. She took her own cue, then, and cupped the back of his knee, urging him closer. It was Logan’s turn to groan as her mouth closed around his flesh once more, suckling him more eagerly. It was decadent.

Pleasure coiled in Ororo’s belly. She luxuriated in the feel of him, wanting to feed his needs, but he made it hard to stay focused, chasing her back whenever she struggled for dominance of his arousal. She moaned around him, and the sound vibrated through him, nearly making him lose it. But he lapped at her, prying her thighs farther apart, and his thick fingertips grazed the crease of her ass provocatively. Her muscles clenched in anticipation. No fair… And he didn’t play fair…

She mewled out and shuddered as she came first, losing their contest. He cleaned her slowly, like a cat. He sensed her gathering her wits with a hint of defiance.

“Nope,” he muttered, returning to her and looming over her body while she tried to lean up on her elbows. But he was gentle as he rolled her to her back, easing himself against her and cradling her face in his large hands. Her eyes were drowsy but intent.

“You’re so bad,” she mused. She moved beneath him, arching against his still-throbbing sex.

“That scare ya?”

“Do I seem scared?” She buffeted him and leaned up to taste the sheen of sweat at his throat. Her hands roamed over his back greedily. Logan felt so right to her. He grumbled in protest.

“Darlin’, don’t…aw, man.” She continued to move, thrusting up at him. He stiffened and grew slick with her wetness. The head of his cock slipped just between her folds and bumped against her pearl each time she moved her hips.

Kiss self-control goodbye. Logan was done.

“Now ya’ve done it,” he promised as she suckled his ear, catching the crest between her even teeth, steaming it. He broke away and eased back long enough kneel between her legs, lift them over his shoulders and push himself inside her waiting heat.

It was perfect. He filled her, stretching her, making her feel complete.

She fit him perfectly. He took shelter in her warmth and softness as it squeezed around him.

“Tell me ya need me.” He didn’t know where the thought came from and cursed it as soon as it left his lips.

She threw her head back and closed her eyes. Low sounds of want escaped her.

“Tell me, darlin’.”

She opened her eyes, looking plaintively up at him. Don’t. Don’t make me feel anything else but this. He read her intent. He was close to falling over the edge.

Then he gave in. It was sweet pain, tearing at him and draining him dry. He jerked and his hips thrust of their own volition. Shuddering breath left Ororo’s lips on a low cry, as though she couldn’t let him fall over the edge alone.

They lay together, limbs tangled and listening to each other’s breathing. Ororo was lulled by his heartbeat beneath her cheek and the reverent stroke of his fingers.

“You weren’t going to do anything important.”

“Guess not.” He didn’t want to move. His lips traveled over her hair. He traced the veins over the back of her hand.

“So you’ll stay.”

His body was deliciously loose and limp; she snuggled up to him like a cat.

Logan knew that he’d come that much closer to falling into the abyss. Her words still haunted him.

Why are you making me feel?

Why did it feel like he’d opened Pandora’s box?


*

Kinross:


Moira accompanied Charles down to her lab. He noticed some of the changes she’d made since, not the least intriguing of which was the steel paneling along the walls in the hallway and main suite.

“It seems very secure.”

“Aye. It has t’be, luv.”

“It’s been so long.” It smelled the same. A rush of impressions hit him along with the memories. He’d been gone too long, left too many things unsaid.

“Moira,” he said. He reached up over his shoulder and caught her hand before she could push his chair any further.

“Aye, Charley?”

“I love you. So help me, I still love you so much.” His throat clogged and his vision blurred for a moment. “I was an idiot for leaving you behind.”

“Everything happens for a reason.” Her kiss warmed his temple, and she enveloped him from behind. “Yuir back. And now we have a family. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“As I have.”

“Then yuir ready tae meet Kevin.” Charles recovered himself and appeared calm as Moira unlocked the lab.

It was meticulously neat and dimly lit, due to Kevin’s preference. Moira took a chance on trying his patience and turned on the track lights.

“Told ye I dinna want it lit up like Christmas in here,” grumbled a young tenor. Charles realized the voice came from the intimidating structure in the corner of the chamber.

The containment unit. It stole his breath.

“Kevin,” Moira beckoned. “I’ve someone here tae see ye. Say hello.”

“Who is it? And why should I care, Mum?” he said sullenly.

“Dinna be rude, lad.”

“It’s all right, Moira.” She wheeled Charles closer, until he could reach out and touch the reinforced glass.

“Bluidy wanker,” he muttered under his breath, until he looked up from his Doctor Who episode and gave Charles a long, hard look.

He stood. He was taller than medium height, no doubt close to Charles’ size when he was still able to stand. What he could see of Kevin’s eyes were blue, the same blue that stared back at him from the mirror every day.

They traveled over Charles and his mother, assessing him.

“How’d ye end up in that?”

“I was attacked.”

“Tore ye a new one,” Kevin tsked, but there was a hint of sympathy in his voice. Moira was mortified at his callousness, but Charles was still intrigued, and awed.

“I love what you’ve done with the place,” he offered, nodding to the landscape Kevin simulated within the chamber.

“Not the same as bein’ out in the fresh air, though, is it, old man?”

“Kevin, that’s enough!” Moira snapped.

“Aye. ‘Tis. So why don’t ye be off, then, Mum? Wheel yuir friend out wi’ ye.”

“He’s more than my friend. Yuir going tae be seeing more of Charles soon.”

“Can’t wait, Mum.” He went back to his program. Moira knew she’d been dismissed.

She didn’t expect him to call her back. “Where’s the little redheaded colleen?”

“Upstairs, working on her catechism.”

“Ye could send her down, sometimes.” Once again, he turned away.

“I imagine the lass’ll be honored,” Moira murmured under her breath as they took their leave.





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