Ororo rubbed at her still swollen and still annoying red nose as she reread all of her invoices and package slips. It still didn't make any sense.
“Kitten, is this everything?”
“Yes, Ms. Monroe,” the young girl said, sounding like she too was at her wits end.
Ororo bent back down and sorted through them again. It appeared that all of her imported merchandise decided to come stateside early because the warehouse it was housed in got bought out and shut down. After reading some of the fine print, she trekked down the former headquarters of the warehousing company.
After three hours of playing phone tag across the bloody planet, she found out that the company was bought and moved out of China, citing that real estate and gentrification had caused them to loose profits, to...
Drum roll please.
Ororo flipped the last invoice over to read the overlooked tiny print. Storage Worldwide was now located in Wakanda, and was now owned and operated by the Wakandan Royal Family. The rest of the logo outside of the Royal crest read, “Giving back is now back in business.”
Ororo calmly asked Kitty to leave, and quietly closed the door behind her. Kitty left the office with a worried glance back at her boss. She tried, along with the rest of the skeleton crew, to make do with the lack of space they had.
All send oddly quiet until Ororo could be heard screaming at the top of her lungs, “RRRRAAAAMOOONDAAAAAA!!!”
~*_*~
Logan inhaled as he stood outside the office of one Emma P. Frost. He turned around ready to jump in his Escort and run away. Something about this woman screamed, “Run Away!” Logan couldn't remember why he ever started fucking this woman in the first place.
Oh right, she was hot.
Logan frowned. He needed to think happy thoughts. First thing that came to mind was...Ororo Just when did that happen? Thoughts of Ororo's school girl smile, and her warm surprisingly soft tummy floated in front of him. Ah, that's when that happened.
Emma didn't stand a chance. Too bad no one sent her the memo about that. Logan turned the handle to her door. In about two minutes it was gonna suck to be her, and not in a good way.
The blond terror had her mile high stilettoed feet up on her desk as she angled her chair to play around lazily on her computer. She casually raised a brow up at him as he cautiously entered her domain.
“Look, this better be real damn good. I have shit I need to do.” He wanted to add, “shit that doesn't include you,” but he refrained.
She glared at his cuss and simply raised her chin at him. “My my my, have we been busy lately. What has it been, three weeks?”
Logan just rolled his eyes. If it hadn't been his random and soothing time with Ororo, he would have never known how much time he spent being at the beck and call of these women. Sure while he was being an ignorant prick about everything it was fun and more than pleasurable, but now...now it felt wrong in so many ways. “I've been around.”
“Mmm,” she said. “Hold on for a second please.” Emma picked up the phone sitting on her desk and spoke a few words in it, then it looked to Logan like she transferred it.
“If this isn't about Laura's school'in than I don't have no business here.”
“If you insist on being difficult about this, Logan, then yes, this is about Laura's education.”
He glared at her. Never in all his military years had he ever allowed his drive to get what he wanted to become a weakness. Here and now, this woman seized him by his balls and held his daughter captive. There wasn't anything he could do about it. If he didn't do this then his Laura would pay. If there was anything Logan hated, it was feeling helpless. There had to be some way that he didn't have to do this (her.)
That's when he heard it. The shifting of material and a small cough. There was something feminine and disturbingly familiar about it.
“Who the fuck is that on the phone? Just what are you planning?”
Emma looked shocked, then had the grace of an “oh shit” while she scrambled for the phone.
Logan didn't even wait for an explanation. He turned right on his heels and walked out.
“Logan! LOGAN! Where are you going? If you think this is over, you are so wro- - -,” the door slammed off her upcoming insult.
Even though Logan was no expert on the law, he knew someone that was, and he was prepared to beg, grovel, and plead to make sure that the man would hear him out.
~*_*~
Ali dipped the cloth back into the wax-n-shine to further continue scrubbing the brass instruments. Usually this was a chore that she didn't have to bother with because misbehaving kids would be stuck doing it. Lately no one has been in trouble. Her new producer didn't believe why she would be late this time. Making French horns and trombones shine and tuning violins and pianos apparently shouldn't be a priority to her. She warned her label that she'd change, but they didn't believe her. Ali told them she would be late, but as of right now, she was looking for any excuse not to go.
“Excuse me, Ms. Blaire?” Ali looked at the P.A. Box.
“Yes, Mr. Mardox.”
“At least you didn't call me Mr. Secretary this time.”
Ali tried to stifle a giggle but it came out as a snort, again.
“You have a phone call in the office, and you might want to take it pronto. Your poor friend sounds frantic.”
It didn't take Ali long to get to the office wondering who it was. Last time she checked, she didn't have any friends. Err, new ones that actually.
“Helloooo,” she sang with a smile knowing it could be one of two people.
“I.AM.GOING.TO.KILL.HER.TODAY! And this time I mean it. For real!”
“Rory! It's nice to hear from you. What's up?”
“Do I have to spell it out. Because you know I will.”
“Alright, girly. How about lunch? Sushi across from the Park?”
“Fine. But this doesn't mean I won't kill her.”
“Ok ok, it doesn't have to. See ya then.”
~*_*~
Scott looked at his closing argument for the last case he was lead on. That was it. Afterwards all he had to do was work on the closing legs of Charles's campaign. The Iowa primaries weren't to far away. So much work was put into this and it was so close to paying off.
He rubbed his eyes and looked at his clock; his lunch was way over do, and he needed to get outside. Lord knows that Jean would either have him running around the house, or not be there and he'd still be running around the house just as fast.
Oh well, at least lunch didn't have to be overbearing or underwhelming, thusly mirroring his life at home. A beautiful bluebird with a black underbelly tapped at his window and he smiled at it. It seemed like the songbird was beckoning him outside to play.
Scott poked his head outside his office to see if anyone would see him run down the hall and out to his car. There was a little secret that everyone knew but liked to play oblivious too. Scott Summers loved to play outside. A lot. Sure sure, he'd make up the dumbest excuse to find himself outside even in the worst of weather, but everyone knew that he loved it. In reality, that's why Xavier chose Scott as his campaign manager. He was the only person who adored traveling. Scott liked to pretend he earned it. People around the office liked him, so they let him continue to think that. The last thing anyone wanted was to hear him whine.
If he booked it, he could go home get his red frisby and pick up Maddie, their red Irish wolfhound, from the dog watcher, and play outside. Noon time was a doglover's paradise.
In less than fifteen minutes, which was a small miracle in itself knowing New York traffic, he had Maddy and himself all dress and excited to go play and roll around in the grass.
There was nothing sad or pathetic about that at all.
~*_*~
Logan pulled his head back from the hot spray and inhaled. He would have washed in brine and salt if it would have removed all the dirt. He was just thankful that Laura was at school and that with what he was about to do, she was going to stay there.
As he fumbled with the towel going around his waist, he also fought the urge to call Ororo. It was so tempting to want to hear her voice again, let alone explain what he was about to do.
Logan could have been prepared to lose a lot had he still been in the Marines, but now, he found himself at a lost. Could he really air his dirty laundry, keep Laura, and keep her in school? He pivoted to look himself in the mirror. “Nice goin', Bub.”
After drying off, he fished out the number from Miscellaneous Kitchen Drawer Number One. It was on a simple business card that was folded up at the corners with several warn in wrinkles. It read, “Xavier McTaggart and Associates.” The byline had rubbed off after a year of disuse. Logan remembered when he first got the card. It was the world's most awkward dinner. Last year, Laura had inexplicably wanted to go to TGIFriday's because she swore that this time she would share her favorite dessert. The Brownie Obsession. Logan's red flags didn't go off, so he thought nothing of it. As the hostess lead them back to their seats, Laura took a sudden right and starting squealing like a pig and began to jump up and down. As it turned out, her brand new best friend had arrived with her family.
A Miss Rachel Summers, her father, older brother, and her mother, whom at that time, Logan had just gotten to know very well. In a...biblical way. Jean had already chaperoned for the trip to the Museum of Natural History; Logan had also gone as a last minute addition. Neither parent had any interest the actually trip. Both had managed to make the fourth floor women's restroom a very interesting place.
Logan could have throttled just about anyone at the table. Nate was busy flinging his food at Rachel. Rachel and Laura were singing the latest Disney songs on the top of their lungs. Jean was busy ignoring him while running her foot up and down his legs. The only person not doing their best to be annoying was Scott. He was talking about how his law firm was taking on less corporate cases and focusing more on civil cases. Scott slid over a card to him and told him to call if he ever needed help.
Logan grabbed the cordless and dialed the number. No turning back now. He followed the directions on the voicemail and got the answering machine.
“Hey Scott. I gotta problem. I messed up real bad, and now Laura may be in trouble cause of it. Is there anyway I can talk to ya?” He could only hope that his message would get through in time.
~*_*~
Scott inhaled and pushed his ruby Oakleys further up his nose as he and Maddie jogged the concrete path in the park. Maddie was on her best behavior as children with giant candies strolled by. This should have sent red flags up, but Scott didn't let it bother him. Maddie only behaved if there were treats involved, human food, a rub down, or if there were people around that she liked. Scott barely noticed when his pace became faster than his dog's.
Before he knew it she had stopped short, nearly wrenching the leash out his hand and turned in the opposite direction.
“Maddy?”
In response, the large dog took off. Scott held on for dear life and let Maddy lead him to wherever the emergency was. Maddy skimmed through the green grasses and rolling hills, all the way down to the sun light lunch area where people ate on park table under big bright umbrellas.
Maddy stopped suddenly and Scott let go of the death lock he had on the leach. Once his knuckles turned back to their original color he flexed his hands to get the blood flowing and shot his dog an evil eye. She perked her nose up again and picked up the same scent, and headed of again, this time not caring that Scott didn't have the other end of the leash.
“Oh common! Not again.”
~*_*~
Ororo poked at her Dragon Roll and sighed at it. Ali smirked and pulled out a cigarette from a stylish case.
“I know you're mad now. You never turn down food.”
“Al, you don't get it. She sabotaged me, and she practically moved the Earth to do it.”
“She sounds desperate. And what the hell is that!” Ali pointed to a massive mound of red fur with it's nose to the ground heading straight towards them.
Ororo turned around in her seat. “Maddie?” The dog perked up and trolloped towards the scents she'd picked up on the other side of Central Park. She happily sniffed Ororo and made her way over to Ali. Her tail wagged and she sat at the woman's feet waiting for a head pat. Ororo snickered as Alison slid all the way across her bench to get as far away from the dog as she could. Her friend was never really an animal person. The bigger they were the more she was terrified stupid. Ali had her knees up and could just stare. Ororo thought she was in an upright fetal position.
“What...What's that,” Ali asked in a small voice.
Ororo realized that she absolutely sucked at not laughing at her friend. Oh well, at least she tried.
“Her name is Maddie.”
Ororo turned around and saw a shaded Scott looking a little sour.
“Hey Scott, what are you doing here?”
“Chasing Maddie everywhere, you?”
“Ali and I were having lunch.”
Scott turned his attention to the rocking scared mess of a woman. Ororo mouthed silently, “she's not a dog person.” Alison glared at her, which only made Ororo smile harder.
“It's a shame,” Scott said softly smiling at the terrified woman, “she seems to be a Ali person.” Ororo looked at her watch to help break the tension, and it worked.
“I'm sorry you two, I've got to get back to the grind.”
“Wait, please don't go,” Ali begged as Maddy continually nudged her with her cold wet nose.
“You know, I have a great idea,” Scott said. “Why don't you two come over for dinner tonight. Jean and I would love to have you.”
Ororo was looking through her gi-nourmous purse for her keys, and Ali was still horrified by her new friend to hear what Scott was saying. All either one heard was that he had asked a yes or no question, and they both answered yes.
~*_*~
Jean rolled out of bed grabbed her robe and slippers and trudged to the kitchen for another cup of tea. As soon as she stood up another coughing fit seized her entire body. The flu sucked. This was a fact. She didn't even bother glancing at the full mirror behind her bedroom door. The only thing that didn't look gross was the mug in her hand.
Her hair was a fire engine red, stringy, greasy, fluffy bird's nest that smelled just awful. Her eyes were dark and puffy. The circles underneath looked big enough to land a helicopter on. There was the bloating, and the cramps, and the listlessness. Jean was stuck having no help either because her maid was sick too. This was the first time Jean was alone and she actually needed help.
Jean's first instinct was to call Scott and make him come home, but that was a bad idea. She already felt horrible emotionally she didn't need to be babied or smothered. She was seized by another coughing fit and settled on the nasty medicine in the bathroom. She was amazed at how quickly she got worse. Early today it was a few small coughs and a sore throat. Then again, around that same time was when she thought that everything was under control. Just the thought of something or someone slipping out of place made her panicky and angry.
The codeine in the cough syrup was starting to work; she slipped back into bed and sank her head onto her pillow. She'd have to worry about this later. With Scott being here, she would be able to get some sort of balance back.
~*_*~
Scott finished his fourth meeting since lunch at quarter past six pm. He never made it back in his office. By time he did, all he was able to do was grab his laptop and his portable drive. It wasn't until he basically limped by Monet's desk that he found out that there were calls for him.
“I'm sorry, Sir. You were gone all day,” the young girl said.
“S'ok. Can you give me the run down?”
“Sure. Jean called three times. She's sick with the flu. Warren called, he wants to play golf. Xavier said that the New York primary is now a priority. A man named Logan, no wait James, whatever, called twice. Said it was urgent. He said you know him from your kids school, and it's actually about that.” When she was done she shrugged and went back to playing City of Villains.
On the way home, Scott picked up Tyonal, KFC so Jean wouldn't have to cook, and called Ororo back. As it turned out she and Ali would be car pooling for dinner tonight. The last phone call Scott made was to Logan. He thought it would be a great idea to extend the dinner invitation to him as well. He figured that a free consultation wouldn't hurt over some greasy finger-lickin' goodness. If he was lucky maybe Logan would be an avid golfer too. Seeing pompous Warren get beat at his own game would be a dream come true.
If he could stop himself from drooling like Maddy all over their shared favorite person, that would make his night.
Favorite Person? Oh crap! Where did that come from?
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