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Disclaimer: Characters belong to Marvel. I don’t own them, wish I did, because they would have the life they deserve…but alas…life can be cruel… :)



The Winds of Change




He smelled her before he saw her.
Over the other scents of the bar- the alcohol, the sweat, the vomit and urine- came the scent of freshly fallen rain with a hint of flowers and earth. He would know that scent anywhere, it was as unique and distinctive as it’s owner. She took the barstool directly to his left. She looked as beautiful and exotic as ever, her slender, well-built form clad in a pink camisole and tan khakis.
“Evn’ing, ‘Ro.” He took a long swig from his beer, before slamming the empty bottle onto the hard surface of the bar. “What brings the weather goddess slumin’?”
One delicate eyebrow rose in response to the edge his graveled voice held. “I came to see you, my friend. “ Her cerulean blue eyes held his. “After the scene back at the mansion I thought you could use some company. If I was mistaken I shall leave.” Though she said it, she made no move to do so, instead indicating to the bar tender she would like a drink.
After the middle aged, balding bar tender had left, leaving a water and another beer he turned toward her with a scowl. “That scene happened four hours ago.”
“Yes. I knew you would need some time to cool off before you would wish to speak with anyone, Logan. I decided it best to wait until I was relatively certain most of the steam had worn away.” Her elegant throat flexed as she swallowed from her glass.
Despite his foul mood Wolverine felt his lips twitch. How well she knew and understood him. She was absolutely correct. A few hours ago he wouldn’t have tolerated anyone’s company. He looked away from her intense gaze and surveyed their surroundings. The faint yellow lights overhead cast shadows around the bar, giving it a dangerous feel. In far back corner a jukebox was playing an old Zeppelin song, to the right of them were a collection of four pool tables, only one of which was in use, and overhead a neon sign blinked ‘Prize Fights! Every Friday at 10!’.
“Do you frequent this establishment often?” Ororo asked, her gaze following his.
Logan gave a curt nod. Yep, this was his kinda place. Dark and moody, full of roughnecks, truckers and motorcyclists. He took a deep drink from his bottle, nearly finishing it in one drink. “I come here when I need a break from the sunshine and rainbows crowd.” He gave her a look. “Not yer kinda place, eh?”
She shrugged one elegant shoulder. Even here, Ororo held herself in such a way that Logan had never seen anyone else pull off. Proud, defiant, feminine and noble all at the same time. “Oh, I would not be too certain of that. You forget, old friend, I have had my share of wild adventures. Yuiko made certain of that.”
“Ah, yes, the mighty warrior woman. Tell me, ‘Ro, what did she tech ya?” his tone was mocking.
Ororo glanced at him, seemingly unfazed by his tone. “Yuiko taught me that there were many sides to myself. That I have undiscovered layers within yet to explore.”
“Hnh.”
With that they fell into a comfortable silence. It had always been this way between them, never needing to chat, trying to fill he empty space with even emptier words. Instead they sat, at ease in each other’s presence. She knew him better than anyone- knew his secrets, knew his rage and the battle he waged within, yet she never shied away from him. Never fled from his anger, never flinched at his bare fangs, never turned away in the face of his feral snarls. Ororo had always accepted him as he was, the good and the bad. He was going to miss that.
“So, yer really gonna leave?” he asked suddenly breaking their silence. “ takin’ off with that gumbo-chewin’ cajun?”
Ororo sighed softly resting her chin into the palm of her hand. She regarded him quietly for a moment before answering. “I have to. Remy has some unfinished business and he needs my help. He and I have an understanding, Logan, we have an oath.”
Logan growled low in his throat. “You were a kid, ‘Ro!”
“That is not entirely true.” She swiveled on her stool so that she was facing him directly. “Despite what you may think, Remy is not taking advantage of me. I know what I am doing, I know the risks, I am aware of the consequences. As I said earlier, no one but me is responsible for my fate.” Her eyes held his. “No one.”
“So, yer willin’ to go back to theivin’ just to keep his ass outta trouble?” Another swig of beer. “Don’t seem right, ‘Ro.” He turned his back to her, shoulders stiff. He knew he was being ridiculous, that he had no right to tell her what was acceptable and what wasn’t. he knew she would never scorn him in such a way, but ever since he heard she was leaving he was feeling angry, frustrated and--alone.
He felt her hand on his shoulder gentle and firm. Like her. “Logan, I will be back.”
He shrugged his muscular frame, shaking off her hand. “Makes no difference to me, Storm. Do whatchya want.” He heard her breath catch and he knew that he had hurt her. He felt her brief hesitation before she rose.
“ I will miss you, my friend. You shall remain in my thoughts and in my heart.”
Logan felt his chest tighten painfully. “You are my heart“, he whispered to no one. Damn, why hadn’t he told her? Why was he letting her leave without telling her how much she has come to mean to him? How his feelings of friendship were morphing into something more. How her unconditional acceptance of him, through his trials with Jean and his exploring his violent and shady past, has meant more to him than anything. He looked at the still swinging door that she had left through. Her scent was still close, he could catch her if he left right now.
“Bartender! Another beer!”



End Chapter One, to be continued…





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