Chapter One: Twenty Years

These are the moments
I know heaven must exist
These are the moments
I know all I need is this
I've found all I've waited for, yeah
And I could not ask for more
~Sara Evans


The house was by no means a mansion. Ranch-style with four rooms, it was moderate and comfortable. There were chips in the peeling paint, slats missing from shutters. At some point, the third stair leading to the front door broke. It was habitually stepped over in lieu of replacing. Now, it was more a fixture than anything, kept because it reminded the occupants that this was home.

Though there was work to be done, it was by no means ill kept. The house was meticulously built and could withstand the fiercest of tempests. Solid. It was a solid structure held up by expert craftsmanship and love. Nothing could destroy the house that nestled so snugly between mountain and river.

Gardens were kept in order, blossoming with spring warmth and steady rain. Dew clung to the bright green leaves and sprays of fragrant color as fog drifted and swirled around the mountains. Morning had dawned beautifully crisp and achingly serene.

There, in the rear of the house, stood greenhouses that could feed a small army through several months of drought. Beside the expansive glass building that smelled of peat and growth were two entwining rosebushes. Beloved Huskies had been buried there several years ago, mourned as though they were children.

Dogs always belonged to this house, a fixture as much as the broken step and soaring mountains. Two such animals were roaming freely between the house and mountains, where thick woods teemed with life. Their white and gray coats gleamed as dawn spilled over the white-topped mountains. They sniffed as though searching for anything amiss, guardians to those that dwelled within the well-lived house.

Battered and aged as the house, a truck was parked in the long, winding driveway that cut through the valley of trees and grass. Beside it, a Land Rover in much better condition was parked haphazardly. Behind that, a sturdy, rebuilt Firebird that could scream testosterone at the top of its powerful engine.

On the lake, bumping into the dock lightly as it swayed to current, sat a tuned up old plane called the “Little Blue Beast�.

In the stillness, one might have thought this place a dream. It was peaceful, lying so innocently unaware of its beauty in the outskirts of Henry, Alaska. Light crept through shadow, bathing the entire valley in brilliant glow.

And then, a feminine, commanding voice broke the silence, joined a beat later by tones of youthful exasperation.

“HENRY! JAMES! JEAN!�

“What?�

“You are going to be late, get out bed, NOW!�

“Mama! I can’t go to school today! I don’t have anything to wear!�

“Go naked, just get out of bed.�

“Where’s my toolbox?�

“Look under the sink!�

“MOM! Henry won’t let me have the keys!�

“It’s my turn!�

Ororo Munroe chuckled over her first cup of coffee, looking up with an arched brow at the stocky, scowling man that came into the kitchen from the hall. There was amusement barely concealed in his eyes, his warm, welcoming smile the same as it had been every morning for the last twenty years.

“Everyone in this house have to wake up yellin’?� He grunted to his wife as she handed him a steaming mug of strong coffee.

“It is how we greet the day,� Ororo answered with a grin over her cup.

He grunted, sidling up to her with the skill and grace of the natural predator. Logan, once known as the fierce mutant Wolverine, dropped a kiss onto his wife’s smiling lips. His free hand hooked one finger into the loose flap of her robe, one brow arching enticingly.

With a toss of her snow-white hair, Ororo evaded another teasing kiss. Her husband growled lowly, tugging on the edge of her robe to pull her closer. Twenty years and he could still get her blood pumping with one feral look. It reminded her of the man he’d been, of the man he’d so willingly become and how the two melded into the man she couldn’t live without.

“I can’t find my shoes!�

A masculine voice echoed from the hallway, the sound still wrenching Ororo’s heart. Never would she understand how her son could be turning into a man before her eyes. Hadn’t she just brought him home from the hospital with his identical brother? Where had the years gone?

“Look in the flamin’ livin’ room where you left them!� Logan called over his shoulder.

“Not those shoes!� The voice Ororo pegged as Henry’s shouted back, fuming with teenage irritation. “The white ones!�

“Outside,� Ororo offered loudly. “And come get the brown ones. I did not raise a group of baboons.�

“Yes, Mom.�

A beat later, while Ororo and Logan rolled their eyes, a vision in golden skin and long white hair appeared from the direction of raised male voices.

“Mother.� Jean Munroe said in her typical fifteen-year-old whine. “Tell Henry that he needs to let me into the bathroom!�

Ororo rolled her eyes toward heaven and begged her daughter’s namesake for strength.

“You take more time,� she explained patiently. Again. “Let the boys use it first.�

Jean stomped one foot, her legs seeming longer than her mother’s in pajama shorts just shy of decent. Ororo could not understand how her daughter flourished on the cusp of womanhood just as surely as her brothers morphed into men.

“You always take their side!�

Knowing tears were only a heartbeat away, Ororo cut her gaze to Logan. He sighed, set his coffee onto the countertop and turned to his only daughter. Jean and Logan were many things, but Ororo knew them most intimately as a manipulated father and Daddy’s little princess. It would have irritated her, had Ororo not observed that her sons were princes to her manipulated mother.

“Jeannie…� Logan’s placating tone was shattered when his daughter burst into tears.

“Daddy, can’t I use your bathroom?�

“No,� Logan answered her, glancing to his wife. Ororo regarded him coolly, though inside she was rolling around on the proverbial floor with mirth. He never had an ounce of willpower when it came to their children.

Many would have thought the brash, reckless Wolverine was impervious to anything resembling emotion. Twenty years taught Ororo that his family was the light of his life. So deep was the need to protect them that he wanted to buckle to any whim they might have. At first, it was adorable. With three teenagers in the house, however, Ororo was now continually pegged as the “bad guy�.

Not this morning, she mused as Jean wailed, clenched her hands into fists and stomped out of the room.

She applauded her husband with a gentle, almost sarcastic clapping. He scowled at her, reaching to wrap her into his arms. Resisting only because it made him smile, Ororo was dragged against his chest. Logan pinned her to the counter, dropping his mouth to hers in a kiss that turned every bone in her body to water.

Ororo lost herself in him, in the simple knowledge that this man loved her to distraction. It was never a question, never faltering as decades passed between them. Her hands wound into his still-unruly hair as his cupped her shoulders to hold her in place.

They pressed familiar bodies together, flexing to feel every inch of one another. Ororo’s toes curled as she hitched her backside onto the counter. The scratch of his unshaven cheek thrilled her to the core, sending a jolt of lust through her that some would think undignified for a woman pushing fifty.

She couldn’t have cared less.

“Ugh,� said a young male voice from the hall. “God, do you guys have to do that?�

Logan lifted his mouth from hers with a groan. He glared at his son, making a “shoo� motion with his hand to the tempestuous Henry. Ororo chuckled, winking at her often-volatile son. He inherited his parents’ tempers, while James was calm as the surface of a frozen lake. The twins were opposites, but still bound together in a way that no other could understand.

Henry stomped into the room with the flair of his father, even as Jean triumphantly yelped from the bathroom. A moment later, her music was up and the shower was running. Henry shook his head, moving to the deck to retrieve his shoes.

He was a tall boy of seventeen, dwarfing his mother and father with that lanky frame. Both twins topped out at six foot two, growing into large feet that made them clumsy just last year. Their skin was a mixture of mother and father, the dusky shade darker than Logan’s but lighter than Ororo’s. Their eyes, however, were all Logan. Dark, deep, and brimming with everything they could never say. While James’ typically reflected an inner peace, Henry’s quite often reminded his mother of a storm-tossed sea. Both boys were built for speed and liked nothing better than to be at 100 miles per hour.

Though were identical to the last freckle, Ororo could always tell her sons apart. Now that they were older, the twins fought to separate, if only just. Henry’s chin bore stubble worthy of his father, his hair kept in long, tight braids. James, on the other hand, was tidy as a pin. His close-shaved scalp was a topic of heckling from the Gates brothers for some time, but Ororo thought it suited him.

Henry needed messy; James preferred neat.

Ororo shook her head when Logan moved to his youngest son and caught the boy in a headlock. James laughed, a smooth, throaty sound that still held a trace of the little boy who told her, on no uncertain terms, that he loved her at the tender age of three.

Henry reentered the house, armed with his shoes and rolling his eyes as his brother and father played in the sitting room. He moved into the kitchen, causally taking ingredients for breakfast from neatly arranged cupboards.

Sensing her cue, Ororo finally slid from the counter to stand beside her son. Henry gave her a brief smile, a reprieve from the angst that was being seventeen. She was forcibly brought back to an autumn night so many years ago, when he suggested in the dark to his siblings that Mama and Dad belonged in a comic book.

She still had their lovingly created series, all fifteen, locked in a memory box in her closet.

“Cheese omelets?� She questioned her broody child, tugging on one of his braids.

“Sure.� Henry jerked one shoulder in a half-shrug. Such an innately Logan gesture, it made his mother bite back a smile.

As she began to whisk eggs, Logan shouted at his daughter to “turn that damn noise down� but was ignored as she finished her daily routine. Ororo shook her head, wondering what she was going to do with that girl.

Jean was, by all accounts, a normal, healthy fifteen-year-old girl. She was stubborn, fought with her mother over every last detail, obsessed with boys, music, and shopping. Ororo often thanked whatever God there was that her children could be normal. They never knew fear or rejection because they were different.

Not even their status as bi-racial tainted their quiet Alaskan lives.

When breakfast was served, Ororo had the distinct pleasure of watching her men – as she often referred to them – dig into the carefully prepared food. Jean came in from the bathroom, freshly showered and with an over-generous helping of makeup covering her flawless face.

Though her sons were content with jeans and sweaters, Jean hated to blend into wallpaper. She’d pulled on a pair of tight black trousers with buckles along the sides, heeled boots, and a top that was sure to send her father right through the ceiling. Ororo widened her eyes warningly before her husband looked up.

Jean sighed, but she did pull a zippered hoodie over the long-sleeved top that revealed more than a hint of her feminine attributes.

Ororo was pleased, at least, to see that Jean left her long, snowy tresses down to twist wildly at her shoulders. An added bonus was the lack of purple, green, or blue streaks, which were often added via some cosmetic popular among her age group. At least, she thought, there would be one less argument this morning.

But never peace and quiet.

Jean was just finishing a bowl of granola when Ororo glanced at the clock. As usual, the children were running late.

“Up!� She commanded them with the experience of seventeen years. “You’re going to be late. Henry, it is James’ turn to drive, give him the keys.�

“Mom!�

“I said give him the KEYS!�

Thunder boomed in the heavens and her son was immediately cowed. James had the audacity to smirk as Henry handed over the car keys. Ororo hated that the boys insisted on driving the trio to school every morning, but she had to come to terms with their aging.

Soon, far too soon, they would leave her. Eyes and clouds misting with the knowledge, she quickly rushed into the living room like a force of nature. Books were gathered as children bickered and Logan hollered at them all to shut up. She scooped up a pair of socks, grasped Jean’s leather backpack and shuffled her chicks from the nest.

“Be careful, James,� she warned as they bolted for the Firebird. The dogs barked happily, restrained by Logan’s quick command behind her. “If you get a ticket…�

“I know, Mother,� her son said as he opened the car door and tipped the seat forward so Jean could slip into the back. “We’ll be fine.�

Henry, still moody with her, did not stop to speak as she slammed into the car. Ororo shook her head, returning Jean’s cheerful wave.

In moments, James roared the engine to life, shattering the stillness that surrounded their home. He backed out of the drive at a sedate pace, but the second they were out of view, she heard tires squeal and rock music bounce off the mountainsides.

“Baboons,� Logan grunted as he came onto the porch, coffee in hand. “We raised baboons.�

Heart aching, as it did every morning, every time they drove away, Ororo turned to her husband with a smile. “They learned from the best.�

“Wench,� he tossed at her affectionately.

Ororo moved to him, winding her arms around his neck and arching her body eagerly into his.

“I know.�

~**~


As he finished sanding the edge to a handmade armoire commissioned out of Anchorage, Logan thought about his life. Next week would be the twentieth anniversary of his marriage to Ororo. Twenty damn years.

When they’d started this journey so long ago, it was with reluctance and a cry of his name into a satellite phone. He wondered often as his children grew what would have happened if he simply shrugged off Ororo’s scream for help that night so long ago.

Would he be here, locked in the blissful wild of Alaska? Would he have three children he adored, a wife that he refused to live without?

No, Logan thought with a shake of his head. He wouldn’t have any of it. If her terrified voice had not struck some forgotten chord inside him, he doubted anything would be as it was now. The house on the water, the dogs in the yard, the peace of the Alaskan mountains, none of it would be his. He needed this place, enjoyed the man he became when tied to Ororo through the commitment of marriage.

Oh, hell, he loved that damn woman. Logan smirked as he reached for a fresh sheet of fine grit and attached it to the planer. His work was soothing, leaving time to think in the silence. With three teenagers running around, silence was a rare commodity.

Thinking back to the woman he willingly shackled himself to, Logan glanced to the dock, where her plane took off several hours ago. That woman was his, all his and had been since the moment he set foot in Alaska. She drove him insane, with her temper, with the pure, primal lust she could still invoke in him with a saucy look.

He smirked again, wondering what the kids would think about their parents going at it on the living room floor. Damn, but ‘Ro could still light his fire. He once thought marriage would be boring, grinding both parties down until they were affixed in a rut. Not ‘Ro and Logan. Every day was an adventure.

Since the death of the malicious Sinister two decades past, Logan never left Ororo’s side. They were in it together, the promises made on their wedding day never tossed aside if they became inconvenient. Sure, they sometimes fought so long, so hard he thought they’d kill one another; that just added some spice to his life.

She was still beautiful, no matter how she complained about the miniscule lines on her face or the pull of gravity on firm breast. He enjoyed the hell out of those breasts, he would tell her. Sexy, strong, loyal, his Ororo was more woman than he could handle sometimes.

Of course he’d fallen for her, he mused while sanding an edge of good, solid oak. Light on dark, the other half of the man he never hoped he could be. She gave him the gift of love, the ultimate prize of fatherhood. What more could a man ask for?

“Eeyore!� He shouted for one of the family’s pair of Huskies, his keen hearing betraying the canine’s intentions. “You best keep outta Mama’s garden or she’ll have your guts for garters!�

With a pitiful whine, the year old pup bounded back to the front yard to join his sister, Tigger. Logan still found the names hysterical. That’s what you got when you let teenagers name the damn dogs. This was the third set of Huskies to call this place home.

Andine and Eliar, Ororo’s noble companions lived to ripe old ages. They’d seen each kid born before their bodies gave in to time. Logan nearly cried at the memory of the animal that took a bullet for the woman that became his wife. The family buried the beloved dogs beside the greenhouse; Ororo planted rosebushes over them.

After Andine and Eliar came Scarlet and Rhett. They were gone just a year now and the pain was still fresh. Logan loved each pair of dogs they reared as parts of his family. They were never replaced, but they needed the companionship, the love that came from such splendid creatures.

Tigger was watching him with warm blue eyes, her tongue lolling out of her mouth in puppy-laughter as Eeyore barked and tripped over his own feet while chasing something on the lawn. They were an interesting pair: wise Tigger and stupid Eeyore. Logan thought that the children had named them all wrong.

Twenty years and he was completely content here in Alaska. The Northern Lights never failed to hold his awe the same way Ororo’s buzzing skin kept his attention. He would never tire of it, never want to leave. This was his home, the one he’d built with his beloved wife.

When the phone rang, Logan turned toward the house. He set the planer down, jogging through the open door from garage to kitchen. The cordless rested in its cradle, snatched up when Logan noted the number flashing on caller id was Fairbanks High.

“Munroe,� he grunted, so accustomed to the surname now it was automatic.

“Mr. Munroe,� came the cheerful voice of the principal. “How lovely to talk to you again.�

Logan sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly with a thumb and forefinger. “Which one and what’d they do?�

Mrs. Kendra Smith chuckled into the line. It was no surprise to hear from her in the middle of the day. One of the Munroe Hellions was constantly in trouble. Logan wondered how much more patience he was going to have to pray for before the three of them settled the hell down.

“Jean,� she said with a sigh. “She was caught smoking on the grounds during her lunch break.�

I’m gonna break her neck, Logan thought with an inward snarl. “Jesus. Want me to come in?�

“Do you mind?� Mrs. Smith asked carefully. “I fear it’s her third strike this year.�

“Oh, hell. Sorry,� he apologized for swearing immediately. “Yeah, I’ll be there in about half an hour.�

“See you then.�

Logan cradled the phone and let loose a slew of curses that would have shot Ororo’s eyebrows into her hair. At thinking her name, he grasped the phone again and punched in the number for his wife’s cellular.

“Logan,� she answered on the second ring with an exasperated sigh. “What’d they do?�

Smiling to himself at the fact that after two decades nothing surprised her, he patted his pockets, looking for car keys.

“Jeannie was smoking at school.�

“I’m going to dye her hair orange,� Ororo said viciously. “Third strike. Immediate suspension. Damn it.�

“Yeah,� Logan sighed, locating his keys on the counter and grabbing them. “Your daughter’s cruisin’ for trouble.�

“Why is she my daughter?� Ororo’s smile was audible. “Are you going down there?�

“Yep,� he answered quickly, whistling for the dogs. “I’ll bring her home. We grounding her?�

“What else can we do? String her up to a tree by her toenails?�

He tucked his tongue into his cheek, amused at the fact that his wife was irritated. She was damn cute when she got all worked up.

“It’s got potential.� He shook his head as the dogs trotted in, Tigger bumping his leg with her skull affectionately.

“Behave,� Ororo chided him. “Call me when you get back?�

“Course. I love you.�

“Love you, too.�

~**~


When Logan appeared at the school, Jean immediately sank into the chair where she waited. She might have had her father wrapped around her finger most of the time, but even she knew there was a line.

He did not bother to look at the receptionist, his dark eyes meeting the cerulean of his daughter’s. She looked ready to bolt or cry, but he didn’t let up. Jean was a temperamental child, made worse when her mutation manifested at thirteen.

Luckily, her mother’s heritage bred true and she was gifted with weather manipulation. The woman once called Storm taught her daughter the control required, the beauty of her mutation. Unfortunately, Jean’s rebellious streak was starting to rear its ugly head. Words like “restraint� became four-letter to the prickly young woman.

“You an’ me, kid,� he said in a deathly quiet tone that had her cringing. “Are havin’ a nice, long talk when we get home.�

“Yes, Daddy,� she said meekly.

Mrs. Smith came out of her office, silently beckoning Logan inside. The principal was entrusted with more information than many, including the mutations of two of the Munroe children. Though Ororo and Logan agreed no one should treat Jean differently, the school’s principal needed to know what his daughter was capable of.

Fortunately for Jean, even her rebellion knew limitation. She had never, not once, struck out with the ferocity of nature.

Logan gave his daughter a final glare before stepping into Mrs. Smith’s tidy office. She smiled sadly, gesturing for him to take a seat. After he folded himself into an uncomfortable chair, the pretty blonde woman shook her head and sighed.

“She’s having a rough time, Mr. Munroe.�

“I know,� he agreed with a nod. “I don’t know what she’s fightin’ so hard against.�

Mrs. Smith shrugged before folding her hands on the top of her compulsively neat desk. She was a slight woman, but her soft green eyes had a hint of steel in them. This woman fought for the hard cases, the so-called badass students most left to twist in the wind. She had a compassion that made her human, made her exceptionally good at her job.

Logan liked her enormously, though he would prefer to see less of her.

“She’s fifteen,� Mrs. Smith said easily. “Everything is against her, the world, you, her mother, me…she’s just acting out.�

Scrubbing a hand over his face – mentally noting that the boys, while wild, had never been suspended – he let his head fall back in despair.

“Was she alone?�

“No,� Mrs. Smith answered primly. “She was with Timothy Gates. I’ve already called his mother.�

Logan could not, would not, stop the slow, borderline sinister smile that curved his mouth. Mary Gates, Ororo’s old friend, was going to ream the hell out of her son for this.

“Oh, yes, the formidable Mrs. Gates.� Mrs. Smith laughed with a wink. “I can’t wait until she gets here.�

“Tim’s a good kid,� Logan defended quickly. “So’s Jean. Someone saw them smoking?�

“I did,� responded Smith airily. “I walked around the building and there they were…�

His eyebrow hitched high on his forehead as she trailed off. When a teacher or principal trailed off that way, nothing good was coming.

“What?� He demanded. “What were they doing?�

Mrs. Smith cleared her throat and tried for dignified. “They were kissing, Mr. Munroe. Cigarettes in hand.�

Crimson covered Logan’s vision. Some kid, that little punk Timothy, was kissing his Jeannie. God, did he have his hands…were they… Oh, God, it was too awful to think about.

“Mr. Munroe?�

Brought sharply back to the present, Logan took several deep breaths to calm himself. Ororo was in for a rant when she got home. At least, with her, he could really let loose and not frighten her. She would understand.

She might actually dye Jean’s hair orange.

“How long is the suspension?�

“Three days,� said Mrs. Smith cautiously. “She’ll have to write an essay on the dangers of smoking, but I don’t see why you can’t take her home now.�

“Thanks,� he said, rising to shake her hand. “I’m sorry about this.�

“She’s a good girl,� Smith returned with a smile as their hands broke apart. “Smart as a whip and pretty as they come. It’s just a rough patch.�

“I hope so.�

With that, he strode from the office and pointed at his daughter.

“You. Up. Follow. Now.�

His daughter was well aware that when her father spoke in monosyllabic sentences, she was in deep, deep trouble. Without a whimper, without cutting her glance to where Timmy sat across the office, she jumped out of her seat and followed her father out of the school.

~**~

Watching as an angry father slammed the car door after a visibly intimidated young woman slid into the truck seat, she grinned from her place across the street.

Still the same old Wolverine, she thought viciously. Still the same animal.

But the girl, she was interesting. All defiance and rebellion, hating the world as her teenage glands demanded it was against her. She was already powerful, already controlled.

He’d been right, after all, her darling mentor. Storm and Wolverine birthed powerful children. They had no right to these brilliant specimens of mutation, to this sedate and easy life here in the North. Nothing was supposed to be easy for a pair of murderers.

Standing motionless as any statue, she waited as the hours dragged by, her ritual of two weeks down to a science now. When the two tall, handsome young men exited the building, flanked by a crew of auburn-haired youths, she smiled once more.

Oh, they were beautiful, she mused. He had been right about everything. Powerful. Beautiful. His.

As the boys piled their friends into the black Firebird, she turned away. There would be time to meet them soon, time to get to know them.

Soon, very soon, Storm and Wolverine would pay for their crimes.

Chapter Two: Jeannie

In the sunlight or the rain
Brightest nights or darkest days
I’ll always feel the same way
Whatever road you may be on
No you're never too far-gone
My love is there where ever you may be
Just remember that you'll always be my baby
~Sara Evans

When Little Blue Beast landed smoothly on the lake behind the house she loved, Ororo mentally prepared for battle. Though it was nearly dinnertime, the sun was high and shining merrily, a peculiarity of living so far north. In the winter, darkness replaced the light, giving the snow-blanketed world a feeling of perpetual peace.

Jumping from the plane, Ororo spotted her daughter on the edge of the dock, glaring moodily down at the water. She had a fishing pole in her hands, a cold Pepsi between slim thighs, and an expression that made Ororo habitually check the sky for shifts in the weather.

Sensing that Jean wanted to be alone, Ororo touched her shoulder briefly. The girl shrugged her hand off, closing her eyes. Stung, though she should have expected it, Ororo squared her shoulders and marched toward the house.

Just as finding Jean brooding on the dock was commonplace, her husband was snarling and swearing in their garage, fondly called “Dad’s Cave�. Instead of a fishing pole, he wielded a planer. Pepsi was Molson. The expression nearly identical.

She knew her husband, so Ororo knew better than to laugh. Jean’s behavior, while appalling, was so typically teenage that she could deal with it. Hadn’t the famous Storm raised herds of teenagers at Xavier’s New York school? Though it was different, more difficult when those children were your own, she could draw on that wealth of experience in handling her teenagers.

As though measuring their father’s mood, her sons obviously deserted the field. Her boys were clever and had the instincts of survivors; they weren’t leaving the X-box in their bedroom until the storm passed. Ororo almost envied them.

In the hours it took to finish her deliveries and drop tourists off in Anchorage, Logan worked up a full head of steam. Her husband, a doting father, went absolutely ballistic when one of their children did something he could not understand. There was nothing in him that recalled his adolescent years, making his sons and daughter alien as beings from another world.

At times, she was sure, he envied her.

Gauging his mood, factoring in twenty years of intimate knowledge and the dangerously low level of his lukewarm Molson, Ororo ducked into the house and swept through the kitchen. Sounds of pitched battle, of juvenile oaths raged from the boys’ bedroom. Ororo grinned. She was right on the money.

Taking two fresh beers from the refrigerator, Ororo dutifully moved back into the garage. Logan was working on the armoire as though it would give him the answers to life, if only he sanded it down to a nub. Confusion, she knew, was not something Logan was accustomed to.

“Here,� she said, dropping a kiss to his whiskered cheek.

“Thanks, darlin’,� Logan said, stepping back from his work and opening his bottle.

Ororo sipped slowly, jumping up to sit on the weathered tool bench to watch her husband. He downed half the bottle in one go, his throat working almost angrily as he downed the contents.

Oh, he was still so damned appealing. Rough and rugged exterior with that wonderful heart of gold. There were lines around his mouth and eyes now, the veins on his hands protruding as time worked her magic. Silver streaked that dark, coarse hair, but he was still as fit as any young man in his prime.

He shouldn’t be aging at all, she thought for the millionth time. For some reason, Logan’s natural healing mutation was allowing him to age at nearly the same pace as she. Though they had many theories as to why this could be, nothing was proven. All their beloved geneticist, Hank McCoy, could tell them that it was happening and he could not say for sure why.

Ororo hoped, in that giddy, feminine part of her soul that Logan was doing it subconsciously. He wanted, as he said so often, for them to grow old together. Perhaps, just maybe, his mutation was such that it would give him that wish.

“She’s yer daughter, ain’t no denying it.�

Knowing him well enough to not be offended, Ororo arched a brow and sipped from her bottle. “You think she gets this from me?�

“Gotta be,� he said with a snarl as he picked up the planer once more.

“Because you are so very pure,� Ororo shot back at him, biting back a grin when he turned to her.

“She…she’s been kissin’ boys, ‘Ro!� He roared, throwing his hands up in disgust. “At fifteen!�

“My first kiss was at about that age,� she replied calmly. “It’s perfectly normal.�

“Normal?� Logan turned, paced, ran his free hand through unruly hair.

With nearly inhuman patience, Ororo watched her husband rant. He swore often, flailed his arms to emphasize, pointed as though the child in question was standing in the room. A long list of their children’s trespasses tumbled from his mouth, most of it carried away on that sweet, spring breeze.

She let him carry on, knowing a slightly more rational man would emerge. No matter what he said, Logan loved his children. He spent not a full twenty-four hours away from them since the day they were born. Any time their parents’ tempers flared in one of the children, he was baffled. Ororo found it endearing, the comfort of knowing both parents imprinted themselves on those wild children.

Sipping at her beer, she let Logan loose. It was years since he released his claws in one of these rages, longer since that dark look of violence crept into his midnight eyes. He was in control, aware, even at the height of it all. She knew, above all else, the pride he carried because of it.

When, at last, he turned to her with that lost expression, she took her cue.

“I dunno what to do with her, ‘Ro,� he admitted quietly. “Seems just yesterday she’d come home with pictures, park her little butt on that cooler with a grape Popsicle with a ‘Hi, Daddy’. Where’d that little girl go?�

Ororo mourned for him, knowing how often she herself looked around expecting to see babies only to find young adults. “Logan…�

“I don’t even know who she is anymore.� His quiet voice was rough with emotion.

“Neither does she,� Ororo offered with a smile. “That’s the problem. She’s lost, like every teenager. Worse? She’s the youngest, the only girl, so she’s fighting harder to one-up her brothers.�

Logan sighed, shaking his head.

“They’ve never been suspended.�

“No, but I believe that only means they haven’t been caught.� She waited a beat, tilting her head at him. “And wasn’t it you who congratulated Henry for necking in the back of your truck two years ago?�

His smile was immediate and telling. Ororo scowled.

“That’s different,� he replied without thinking. “Henry’s a boy.�

“Oh, really?�

He caught her tone, sensed the shift, and immediately backpedaled. “Well, you know what I mean.�

“I don’t think I do,� Ororo said archly. “Why don’t you explain it?�

Logan gulped. Just the fact that she could make him nervous was a source of pride for Ororo. The mighty Wolverine, cowed in the face of his wife’s temper.

“I’m male,� he said as though that explained everything. “And my sons are male.�

“So you completely understand their fervent need to get their hands on as many sets of breasts as they can?�

Her icy tone made him wince. “Well, something like that.�

“Your daughter is a girl, Logan,� Ororo explained. “And us girls like to get our hands on certain parts of anatomy as well.�

Beer sprayed the unfinished armoire at her carefully timed comment. She took another draw from her bottle, mentally adding a mark in her win column.

“Jesus, Ororo!�

She blinked innocently. “You never complained when I had my hands on yours, before we were married.�

His smile immediately turned charming. “That’s different.�

Primly, though she flushed with the pleasure that she could still kick-start his libido with one carefully implanted mental image, she brushed at her worn Levis. He stalked to her and she opened to him, allowing her husband to step between her thighs.

The placement of the table put her eye to eye with him, even as he planted his hands on either side of her to lean close.

“Yer evil.�

“Oh, I know.� Batting her lashes again, she leaned up for a quick kiss. “But I do have a daughter to deal with.�

Logan sighed, capturing her lips once more before he stepped back. “Better you than me.�

~**~

After changing out of her work clothing into a tea-length sundress of pale, pale yellow, Ororo made her way out to the dock once more. Her sons were busily whooping one another at the X-box, which only meant Logan would join them when he finished clocking his work time.

On the dock, Jean was still staring moodily at the water, but the ice chest beside her was filled with wriggling fish. If there was one thing Jean loved, it was sitting on this dock with a fishing pole in her hands. There was a time when her father sat beside her, silence stretching between them as they provided the family with dinner.

Now, Jean was so far away.

“Jean?�

A sigh. “Yes, Mama?�

To this day, hearing one of her children say “Mama� made her heart skip.

Ororo folded herself onto the dock, her bare feet swinging beside her daughter’s. The girl did not turn to her, but re-baited her hook with Brie and dropped the line back into the water.

“Smoking?�

Jean scowled at the water. “Stupid Tim. He brought them, said I might like it.�

“Did you?� Ororo cast her own gaze to the water, peering at the fish swimming beneath their feet.

“Not really,� replied the girl with a one-shoulder shrug. “Takes like I stuck my mouth on Daddy’s belt sander.�

Ororo smiled softly. “Then why do it?�

Silence broken only by the long-off caw of a hawk. “I dunno.�

Sensing her guard was coming down, Ororo shifted closer to her child. Leaning slightly over the dock, she flattened her palms to the aging wood, turning to face the beauty beside her.

She looks like Mother, Ororo thought with a pang. Grief could be so much like a virus, living and writhing inside until it was forgotten, only to strike back when one least expected it. Jean’s noble brow and the long, unbroken line from it to the tip of her nose was classic N’Dare Munroe. The deep, clear blue of Jean’s eyes were more her grandmother than mother.

The scowl, however, was all Logan.

Testing the waters, Ororo reached up to tuck an errant white lock behind her daughter’s ridiculously pierced ear. “Talk to me, Jean.�

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,� the girl said at last. “I feel so wrong half the time, so off center. I hate that Daddy wants me to be this prim, proper little girl. I’m not! I’m…�

“Just like him.� Ororo supplied easily. “I know.�

When those bottomless navy eyes met Ororo’s, she smiled. “Yeah. I guess.�

Ororo lapsed into silence for several seconds before she continued. “Your father wanted a daughter, very much. I think he might have been slightly disappointed when the twins were born.�

Jean snorted. “Yeah? Who wasn’t?�

Smirking at the intricacies of sibling relationships, Ororo nodded. “You were so precious to him and still are. But I doubt he’ll ever see you as a woman, Jean. Especially when you are hell-bent on making yourself as much of a pain in the ass as possible.�

Jean looked up at the sharpness in Ororo’s last comment. Mother gave daughter an imperious glance and just as well as Jean knew her father’s one-word sentences, she knew that look.

“I’m sorry, Mama.�

“No you’re not,� Ororo laughed. “You’re sorry you got caught.�

Heat and color crept into her daughter’s cheeks. “You’re good.�

“I’ve had practice.� Ororo dipped a toe into the water.

After several long seconds, Jean set her pole down and faced her mother. “Mama?�

“Yes, my darling?�

“How do handle it?� Jean’s brow furrowed and her chin dimpled with emotion.

Concerned, Ororo looked back at the child she loved, frowning slightly. It was rare that Jean was candid, more so that she asked her mother for advice.

“Handle what?�

Jean closed those deep, soulful eyes and the clouds rolled in the heavens. Feeling the call of it, the song of nature in her own veins, Ororo breathed deeply. It was like Lorelei calling to a hapless sailor, she mused. The pull to go off into the skies, to flood the world with nature’s turmoil was as sharp as ever.

In that moment, Ororo felt Jean revealed some of the root of her problem.

“Restraint,� the mother replied cautiously. “It is never easy or welcome, but restraint is important with gifts such as ours.�

When lids came up over glowing white orbs, Ororo felt pain kick at her heart.

“Mama, its so hard. I feel like my head’s going to explode sometimes. Like, if I don’t let it out, just let it go, I’ll break into a million pieces. I don’t know how you do it.�

Ororo regarded her only daughter thoughtfully for several seconds. She knew what her child was talking about, had lived in that same trapped hell for her first year under Charles’ charge. She buckled, unlike her child, and set loose a raging storm that destroyed a dozen homes in Westchester.

It was then that Charles understood her need to let go. Ororo thought, finally, that her daughter was ready for that lesson. She had control, but never pleasure when dealing with her mutation.

“Come,� Ororo said, her own eyes turning from blue to white as the winds kicked up around her. “Fly with me.�

Hope jumped onto Jean’s face, even as the girl called her own mini-cyclone to lift her into the air. Mother and Daughter bolted for the sky, climbing higher and higher until the house and mountains were nothing but spots on the far-away earth.

“Up here,� Ororo commanded, thankful that both she and Jean were immune to the cold. “Your storms cannot harm. This, my little Windrider, is how I handle it.�

Without explaining, without warning, Ororo let her worry, fear, and all-encompassing love rend the heavens in two. Jean’s cry of pure undiluted joy echoed as her mother spun a massive thunderstorm out of still air.

Watching as her baby twisted and swirled in the winds, Ororo could not hold back a smile. “Come, Jean! Let’s see what my little one can do.�

The force with which Jean released her mental restraints was staggering.

Aided by hormonal glands and turbulent emotions she could not contain, the storm bent and coiled until it formed a field of harmless tornados. Thrown several yards back by the force, the mutant once known as Storm blinked at her daughter.

Keeping herself in place with a small current of warm air, she stood back to let Jean have her say. Wind howled, rain drove without mercy, and thunder boomed loudly enough she could swear the mountains trembled. The pleasure on Jean’s face was unmatched, the calm serenity soothing the part of Ororo that feared she would never be close to her daughter again.

As lightning slashed through the smoky black sky, Ororo let the singing in her blood revel in it. Oh, Jean might have Logan’s personality, but she and Ororo alone shared this single gift.

“Mama!� Jean cried with childlike joy. “Mama, it’s wonderful!�

That pang of grief came back as Ororo wondered if she and N’Dare would have shared a moment such as this. Glancing to the heavens, she felt her mother’s warm, kind smile and laughed. Three generations of African goddesses flew together, even if the eldest was without physical representation.

Giving herself over to it, to the love of family and nature, Ororo released the steadying air around her and fell into the might of her daughter’s storm.

~**~

Logan poked his head into his sons’ room, not surprised to see they were locked in a mêlée for greatness in front of the television that broadcasted their Mortal Kombat game. Hearing the thunder, Logan shrugged one shoulder and stepped into the room.

Obviously, Jean and ‘Ro would be gone a while.

Henry and James were cross-legged on the floor of their bedroom, battling it out as though the fate of the world depended on the outcome. They nudged one another constantly, sometimes with sadistic delight, others with mild annoyance. A unit, Logan mused as he watched them. More a unit than anything he’d ever seen.

When he entered the room, they were completely oblivious.

“Die, die you foolish mortal!� Henry jeered as Eeyore barked happily from his bed.

“Never! Surrender, jackass!� James cried in return, his face screwed into a scowl of concentration.

“You’re going down, butthead!� Henry tossed back.

“Bow down!� James jumped to his feet in an unholy jig of glee. “Bow down, bitch!�

Henry, in response to being beaten, leapt on his brother and wrestled him to the ground. Both boys were howling with laughter as they tried to one up each other, rolling around on the floor in a flurry of fists and dopey, less-than-manly giggles.

They would never know the pain that their parents did, Logan mused as he lounged in the doorway. Thank God for that. Crossing his arms over his chest as Eeyore jumped into the fray, barking merrily as the boys wrestled.

At seventeen, no one was permitted to see them this way. It might damage their ever-tender reputation. Logan, however, was glad for these glimpses. It reminded him that no matter how old they got, how much they pissed him off, they were still the little boys fighting on the drive and writing comic books about their parents.

Though he didn’t want to admit it, he missed the years of little boy laughter and muddy clothes. They used to look at him like a hero, but now saw their father as a terribly uncool cramp in their style. Sometimes, though, he could find them like this and still feel as though they were his boys.

“It’s nothin’, Ro!� He called over his shoulder. “They’re just foolin’ around.�

The effect was immediate. Both boys rolled apart, breathing heavily with all laughter gone. Logan grinned at them, waggling his eyebrows.

“Dad!� James said, shaking his head. “That was so not cool.�

“Give me a heart attack, why don’t you!� Henry fumed stomping back to the game controllers.

Logan stretched and scratched his belly. It was only right that the mere thought of their mother terrified them, as she scared Logan boneless.

“All right, boys,� he clapped his hands together. “The time has come. There will be a new king of Munroe-land and that king shall be me!�

Both boys snorted, glancing at each other with amusement.

“Get real, Pops. You couldn’t beat us with Mama’s help.�

He merely gave his eldest child a grin. “Lets see, shall we. I’m gonna take you boys out.�

James laughed. “You couldn’t take us out if you brought home chocolate and flowers.�

Logan had to admit, he’d raised a bunch of wiseasses. It was the sort of thing that did a man proud.

As his sons reset the game, he glanced out of their window, noting that the sky was still blackened with his wife and daughter’s mutations. He remembered, clearly, the first time he appreciated this place, when Ororo was just a mutant he wanted to help.

Serenity. Peace. He recalled that feeling, revisited it every time he stepped outside in the morning. Alaska, wild enough to be free, civilized enough to be human. He loved that his family could be who they were, without the pressures that society could give them. They were raised knowing their parents loved them no matter what.

It was a damn good thing, he thought as his eyes wandered to James.

When Henry mutated before their twelfth birthday, everyone simply assumed James wouldn’t be far behind him. Days. Weeks. Months. Nothing. Logan and Ororo worried every day that nothing happened, even while James patiently helped his brother deal with his own gifts.

A year later, Ororo gave up. The fact that their twins were not so identical any longer took Jeannie “powering up� before Logan could let it go. Henry’s ability to create and manipulate water molecules never showed its face in James. Nothing did.

In a house filled with mutants, James was as normal as any human.

He’d brooded about it a little, Logan recalled, but never lashed out. He told his father, some years ago, that it was all right if he wasn’t a mutant. He knew they still loved him. You’re all rebels, he said in that thoughtful tone. Only way to be a rebel around here is to be stupidly normal.

Kid had a good handle on things. James was wickedly intelligent, unfailingly loyal, and infinitely patient. His smile was slow, but always warm. It might take ten minutes for his lips to fully form the expression…every second was worth it.

That was his gift, Ororo told him to live in this house and still have patience aplenty.

A moment later, all thought fled as father and sons battled for conquest via a well-loved X-box.

~**~


Hurricane Mary was in full swing at the Gates family home. She swept through the living room, scooping up basketballs, shoes, and various bottles with curses flying out of her mouth. Items were tossed with force, those who could not evacuate in time were forced to duck for cover or get beaned by Pepsi cans.

Her men, those that survived, were looking for escape, but they knew better. Six Gates males were prepared and shaking when she rounded on each of them in turn. Even, Kenny mused, the man of the house.

“I can’t believe what an idiot you are, Timothy Michael!� Mary Gates said at the top of her voice.

Kenny scratched at his red beard before pushing a hand through his hair. He should have followed his first instinct and hidden at Logan’s. At least there, they could duck under an engine and become conveniently deaf.

Five teenage boys, armed filled with their “crap� left lying all over the house, were staring at their mother in a mixture of shock, awe, and pure terror. It was no stretch to wonder if one of them would piss himself.

Mary in full rage was like one of ‘Roro’s hurricanes. Quickly, deadly, and oddly beautiful.

With her long, sleek raven hair whipping around her, Mary darted into the kitchen to rescue the peanut-oil fries left sizzling when Tim finally meandered in from his evening chores. They all knew it was coming, but for some reason were late to escape the damage path.

“Making out! At school! WITH A CIGARETTE and Jean Munroe. Jean-fucking-Munroe!� Mary was spitting the words out and Kenny was certain he heard Tim whimper.

“Mom…�

“Don’t start with me, William Thomas, or you’ll be next. A “D� on your math test? What the hell is wrong with you?�

Kenny sighed and gave a quick hand signal to four of his sons, excusing them from the might of the Gates Matriarch. Poor Tim was left to face the music. Kenny wasn’t stupid enough to let him go, not when his wife’s legendary temper could rebound back on him.

“Ororo probably thinks my boys are all humping everything that’ll move.� Mary fumed as she checked on the chicken in the oven. “Jean’s only fifteen and I know she’s gorgeous but, Jesus!�

Tim stood in the doorway to the kitchen, accepting his mother’s biting lecture and hoping she wasn’t going to bean him with anything else. He’d already taken the basketball to the forehead. Kenny gave his son a small smile, hiding the gesture from his wife.

They were married just shy of twenty years, having celebrated their nineteenth anniversary two months ago. He loved his wife, adored the five sons she gave him, and wanted nothing more to have his grandkids visit them in this house someday.

If he lived that long.

“Logan must have gone through the ceiling,� Mary continued, her dark eyes almost branding her son. “Are you crazy? Have a death wish?�

“I thought you liked Jean,� Tim attempted in a lame mutter.

“I adore Jean,� his mother grumbled. “I love her like she’s my own, but that’s not the point.�

“Then what is the point?� Tim mumbled before clamping his mouth closed.

“Men.� Mary said to the ceiling, closing her eyes and praying for strength. “Men don’t understand a damn thing. Why? Why have I been plagued with a herd of them? I couldn’t have just one girl? Just one?�

Kenny, not bothering to be offended, dismissed his son with a nod. When she started talking to the ceiling, the storm passed. Tim bolted from the room and Kenny distinctly heard snickering from his older and younger brothers upstairs.

His wife shook her head in despair as she took fries from the pan, laying them on a paper towel-covered plate to cool. Outnumbered as she was, Mary learned quickly to instill the fear of Mom into her sons from the outset. She ruled their roost with an iron fist, though each boy knew she loved them more than life itself.

Judging it safe to come into the room, Kenny touched her arm cautiously.

“And you!�

Damn, miscalculation.

“What did I do?�

“You did that� – she indicated to hall where Tim escaped to – “To me.�

“Mary, it’s not that bad.� Kenny defended. “They weren’t stripped at the waist and fucking against the building.�

“How do you know?� Mary sniffled suddenly, thinking of her sons as men. With girls as women. God, how could it be happening already? “You thought everything was dandy after we caught Mike in his bedroom with Cecilia Tyler!�

Kenny avoided the smile he could feel tugging at his lips. Cecilia Tyler was a lovely young girl, one he thought his eldest might bring into the family.

“Mary, they’re growing up, there’s nothing we can do about that.�

She slammed the oven door after checking on her chicken again, facing her husband with fury written all over her beautiful face. The boys favored her, he thought. All alabaster skin and deep ebony eyes. At least they’d escaped his fire-red hair. It was a measure of comfort. Shorter and broader than the Munroe twins, all five were athletic, lived outdoors no matter the weather. All five were intimately connected to the Munroe twins.

And now, it seemed, one of them was connected to the Munroe daughter.

He expected it would be one of his sons to get his arms around that lovely girl. Tim was a bit surprising. Gabriel nursed a monster crush on her just last year and Trevor gave her the Eye whenever they were in the same room. Gates and Munroe were close after all these years; Logan and Ororo’s daughter was bound to take a tumble with one of his boys eventually.

Still, he was certain Logan was through the ceiling and calm as Ororo could be, she had to be pissed off. He would much prefer a round with adamantium-laced Logan than face Hurricane Mary any day of the week.

When Mary seemed content to rant to herself, he grabbed the phone, a beer, and stepped onto the porch to call his best friend. Hitting speed dial, he called the house and winced when a loud bellow answered the phone.

“What?�

Henry.

“Hey, Hank. Where’s your dad?�

“Oh, hey, Mr. Gates. I thought it was Gabe again. That boy talks more than my sister. Hang on, he’s right here. DAD!�

Logan’s signature growl answered after the line clicked several times.

“Sup, Ken?�

“My dear God,� Kenny said with a laugh. “I thought Mary was gonna bust a blood vessel.�

His friend grunted, but decades as buddies afforded Kenny the ability to detect the humor there. Obviously, Logan was calm now.

“Come down from the ceiling?� He questioned while lighting a cigar.

“Just barely.� Kenny heard a door close and surmised Logan was outside. “How bad Tim get it?�

“Bad,� he shuddered. “Mary was flipping.�

“Think it’s more than a kiss and a smoke at lunch?�

“For our sakes, man, I hope not.�

Before Logan could reply, Kenny heard the sound of a twig snap. Alert and suddenly silent, he cast a quick look to the thick, dark woods surrounding his home. Light was fading now, giving Alaska’s children a reprieve from constant daylight. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stiffen and gripped the phone.

“Ken? What’s goin’ on?�

“Dunno.�

He saw something move in the woods, something too tall for a coyote and too slender for a bear. A human. There was someone out there in the woods.

“Lo? How fast can you get here?�

But Logan had already hung up.

Chapter Three: Dangerous Wilds

I've seen the wicked fruit of your vine
Destroy the man who lacks a strong mind
Human pride sings a vengeful song
Inspired by the times you've been walked on
~Creed


Half a mile of dense, almost impenetrable wood separated the Gates home from the Munroe cottage. With the light dying in the expansive valley, shadows were cast with sudden malevolence through a usually peaceful land.

The only sound besides heavy, angry breathing was the thump of blood in Logan’s ears. He tore through the woods, leaping over fallen logs, changing direction with speed borne of preternatural instincts and the cold shock of fear.

Kenny Gates could handle himself, especially armed with his beloved shotgun. Out here in the Alaskan wild, one needed such measures to protect home and family. Bears, wolves, and moose were too common to remain unarmed. Mary, Ken, and their boys grew up here, they knew the risks. But that didn’t mean Logan wasn’t going to rip heads off if something managed to hurt them.

In twenty years, Mary and Ken never left Ororo and Logan’s sides. Summers were spent grilling in backyards, swimming in the lake, watching their children grow up. Winters, while rough in the North, carried memories of Christmases and snowball fights. Very little in his life with ‘Ro was lived apart from the Gateses.

Family, he thought as he vaulted over another log. They were family. Hearing that slight change in Ken’s voice, knowing that his friend was likely unarmed on the back porch, made the fear and rage pump into his primal system with the subtlety of a cannon blast. Nothing should frighten Ken, not when he had his own family to protect.

Bursting out of the tree line, Logan stopped quickly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Animalistic eyes searched the warm, friendly home as nostrils worked quickly to detect varying scents. He caught the kids, Mary, Ken and his own family lingering on the grounds, mingled with Mary’s famous peanut-oil fries sizzling inside. Ears tuned in for anything out of place, Logan distinguished his wife’s best friend inside, ordering the younger kids into the bedrooms while Ken readied a shotgun on the other side of the porch.

Sniffing again, Logan caught a vaguely familiar scent. Something about the acidic odor brought long-forgotten shivers. He knew that smell. It was a person. Someone was lurking in the woods surrounding Mary and Ken’s home. Instinct told him the scent was fresh, too fresh for comfort.

“Ken?�

The click of ammo stopped immediately, followed by footsteps on aging wood. Fire-red hair stood out like a beacon in the twilight and Logan rushed to his friend. Ken’s face was paler than normal, his deep blue eyes wild.

“Saw someone in the woods,� he explained. “Dunno why, but it got my back up.�

“I caught a scent.� Logan replied, jerking his head toward the woods. “Your boys armed?�

“To the teeth.� Ken nodded, readying his shotgun for firing. “Gabe, Mike, and Tim anyway. They’ll stay with Mary.�

“Come on.�

With Logan leading, both men jogged to the tree line silently. The mutant once called Wolverine crouched, picking up the scent before ducking into the woods. It was a woman, he thought now with hazy memory. Women always gave off a slightly feminine scent beneath whatever their unique aroma happened to be.

Following the winding path through dark forest, Logan kept his nose to the ground. An owl hooted, rabbits scurried through underbrush, a far-off wolf howled. Darkness thickened as even the moon was blocked out, so Logan kept Kenny’s position close to his. Though the night was easy to see through with his enhanced senses, he didn’t want his friend to break a leg or something.

“Tracks,� Logan muttered as they reached a cramped clearing. “Small. Woman’s feet. Looks about 150 in weight, limp on the right.�

“You’re so creepy when you do that,� Kenny’s amused tone was slightly marred by worry. “How long gone?�

“Minutes, at most.� Sighing, Logan stood from his crouch. “Where the fuck have I smelled her before?�

“Dunno, man, but its too much ground to cover in the dark and by light, she’ll be long gone.�

Grunting his agreement, Logan took another look around the clearing. Remnants of a fire were visible on one side, along with several more tracks. Someone made camp here, recently. Usually the woods had several during the summer months, but never this far in and rarely on private property. Some things weren’t tolerated in Alaska and encroaching on privacy happened to be one of them.

Unnerved, Logan indicated to the faint light behind them, the beacon provided by Mary and Ken’s comfortable house.

“Lets head back.�

Leading the way again, the duo picked a path out of the woods at a careful crawl. Logan’s skin was screaming with discomfort, the idea that he was missing an important piece of the puzzle worrying him to distraction. Ken tripped on the underbrush and Logan stretched out a hand absently to keep him from falling.

Something in that scent was irritating him to no end. It churned his stomach, brought the taste of something foul to the back of his throat. And damn it, something about this entire affair had his usually steady hands trembling.

The Wolverine’s hands didn’t tremble. They hadn’t since…

Logan pulled up short, causing Kenny to run right into his back. Fear, stark and terrible, slipped through Logan’s body until he shook with it.

“Lo? You ok?�

Ken’s voice was distant, as far off as the howl of a wolf. Logan’s eyes closed, a million horrible memories slamming through his fractured mind. God, how long had he fought these flashes? Had he not suffered enough?

He knew that smell now. Memories of a rain-slicked New York street, of Ororo’s body flying backward into a wall, of drugs, vans, and pain came rushing back. Logan swallowed over the lump in his throat, senses linking to memory until he could place the scent that so mocked him.

“Vertigo.�

Ken grabbed his arm. “What? Wait, what?�

Trying to shake the memories from his mind, Logan cleared his dry throat. He was past that, he told himself sternly. The violation and pain were part of a past better left alone. It took years to battle the demons following his kidnapping, decades to truly come to terms with it.

Sinister. Logan fought for control as Ken’s worried voice attempted to break through the memory. Sinister was dead. Of course he was dead, Logan, Betsy Worthington, and Ororo killed him with the ruthlessness of victims. They watched his body burn. Sinister was dead, there could be no way for him to return.

But, Logan thought with panic fluttering in his chest, they’d never found his cohorts. Vertigo. Arclight. Prism. No matter how the X-Men searched, those three escaped justice. He’d made his peace with it, put it behind him.

“Ken.� Logan swallowed thickly, needing his wife more than anything. “Go inside. Call ‘Ro. Have her bring the kids here.�

“Logan?�

“You need firewood,� was all the response his friend needed.

After slapping him heartily on the shoulder, Ken jogged through the last few yards of woods before rushing toward his home.

Snikt! It was so rare now that he released his claws in anger, the sound seemed to echo in the still woods. A cry of rage left Logan’s lips, one that sent owls into flight and surely scared off bears for miles.

He fell onto wooden foes, drowning out the memories as he waited for his wife.

~**~

Ororo was cleaning up their mess from dinner, wondering where Logan had gone off to. Henry relayed that Ken Gates called, so she assumed he’d either gone over there or was outside on the phone.

After wiping the counter down, Ororo rinsed the cleaning rag and draped it over the sink’s partition to dry. Chores for the day finished, she dried her hands on her trousers and opened the back door to allow the dogs outside.

James was finishing up homework at the dinner table while munching on apple slices. Henry had passed out on the sofa, one arm dangling on the carpet. Ororo smiled at him, coming around the couch to tuck his arm back into place and cover him with a blanket. In a little while, she would wake him, send him to his bed.

Insuring James didn’t need her for a moment, her Mom mode set to “Check on everyone� and ducked into the hall. Once, that need sent her from bed to crib at two in the morning, just to put a hand on an infant’s back. That impulse never really left, the need to insure her children were breathing. Now, however, she channeled it into checking on them.

Jean was sprawled on her bed, a phone to her ear as she giggled at whomever was on the other line. Her feet were flattened on the headboard, her head upside down over the side. Glancing at the state of her daughter’s bedroom, which looked like a hurricane hit, she checked her watch and diplomatically cleared her throat.

Blue eyes met blue and Jean sighed. “Five more minutes, Mama?�

Ororo shook her head. “Time’s up. Say goodbye.�

Her daughter sighed into the receiver. “Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow. Warden’s here. Yeah. Yeah. I’ll wear it. Bye.�

Crossing her arms over her chest, Ororo bore her eyes into her daughter as she cradled the receiver. “Warden? Need I remind you that you’re grounded and could easily have phone privileges removed as well?�

Jean ducked her head, an embarrassed flush covering her dark cheeks. “Sorry, Mama.�

With a little toss of her head, Ororo moved on. “Clean this mess up and feed the dogs.�

“Ok, Mama.�

“Good girl.� She paused before moving out of the room. “How long have you been on the phone?�

Her daughter was in the process of picking up discarded clothing when she looked to the Hello, Kitty clock on her dresser. “Um. An hour?�

Ororo hummed. “Did your father call?�

“No,� Jean met her mother’s eyes, concerned. “Something wrong?�

“I don’t think so,� she tried to smile. “I think he went over to Ken and Mary’s. Was that Tim on the phone?�

Though she blushed harder, Jean shook her head. “Nah, he’s banned from the phone, or so Micah told me.�

“All right. Clean up and feed the dogs.�

“Got it.�

Closing Jean’s bedroom door, Ororo moved swiftly into her bedroom. While it wasn’t odd for Logan to pop over to Ken’s without telling her, he always called. Worrying her wedding band with her thumb, Ororo sighed. He likely lost track of time, a habit with her beloved husband.

Telling herself she was worried for nothing, she scooped up her own laundry and swept back into the living room. Logan is fine, she told herself stubbornly, and you’re turning into a worrywart, Ororo.

Dumping the laundry into the washer in the garage, Ororo called for the dogs as she started a load. Eeyore bounced goofily up to her, while Tigger trotted sedately. Both of her “other babies� were scratched and petted for several minutes while their mistress enjoyed the soft, cool breeze and precious darkness.

Inside, the phone rang.

“Mom? It’s Miss Mary.�

Worried now, Ororo stepped quickly into the house. James held the cordless receiver over his head, eyes never leaving his math homework.

“’Roro?� There was a hitch in her bubbly friend’s voice. “You need to come over.�

“Mary?� Her hand tightened on the phone. “What is it?�

“Ken saw something in the woods,� Mary explained quietly. Ororo could hear her inhale and exhale as she smoked. Mary quit the habit five years ago. If she took it back up…

“Logan came over to check it out. I don’t have all the details, but Logan’s cutting us firewood and Ken told me to tell you bring the kids over.�

Cutting Firewood was the term they all used early in their marriages whenever Logan went into a rage and took it out on innocent pines. Her darling husband still had his temper, even if it simmered rather than violently boiled as he mellowed with age.

If something sent him into that kind of rage when even Jean and Tim lip-locking hadn’t, there was trouble. Plain and simple.

“We’ll be there in ten minutes.�

“Ok, honey,� Mary sighed. “Coffee’s on.�

Ororo clicked the phone off; pleased to see James had his shoes on already and was rousing Hank from his sofa-slumber. That boy was a gem, a true gem.

~**~


Westchester, New York



“Stella! Stella, you come back here!�

Girlish giggles were the only response as Katherine Rasputin bolted after her very naked, very wet daughter. The two-year-old darted down hallways with speed her mother could never duplicate, leaving a trail of bathwater on the polished hardwood floors of the mansion.

“Stella!� Kitty flew around a corner, raising her voice even further. “PIOTR! Kevin! Help me, damn it!�

She glimpsed a little dark head tear into the Professor’s office, her baby laughter mingling with the aging Charles Xavier’s. Kitty sighed, phasing through the wall to stand in her friend’s office. Hands planted on her hips, clothing dripping on the carpeting, she glared at her naked child as she climbed into Charles’ lap.

At seventy, Xavier was as robust and handsome as he had been at fifty. Warm blue eyes nearly twinkled as he greeted the little ones his X-Men bore. One after the other, he now counted six as his grandchildren, with one more on the way. They all, as if by popular vote, referred to him as “Papa�.

Kitty knew he loved every blessed second of it.

“Stella Rasputin.� Kitty exhaled sharply. “Get your wet butt over here.�

“Mama. Hi, my mama.� Stella said with her toddler’s lisp, tiny arms wound around her Papa’s neck. “Found Papa. I found Papa!�

“Why, yes, you did,� Charles said, giving Kitty a grin that she could have throttled him for. “But it seems to me that your mother would prefer you with clothes on.�

Stella leaned up, kissing Charles’ cheek with the exuberance and unabashed affection of youth. Kitty felt her heart melt and fought to keep the scowl upon her face. Stella was a precocious child, one that vehemently despised to be bathed or clothed. She much preferred unreserved nudity with a bit of dirt thrown in for flavor. Kitty often thought her daughter was entirely too much like her mother.

“Mom?� Sturdy ten-year-old Kevin poked his head into the room. He grinned, looking so much like his father that Kitty’s heart ached. “Oh, hey, Papa. I heard Mom yelling and figured Stella was naked again.�

Charles had the grace to attempt covering a laugh with a coughing fit. Kitty glowered at him, fighting the smile tugging at her lips.

“Kev!� Stella abandoned Papa in favor of her big brother. She bolted on chubby little legs into Kevin’s arms. “I found Papa! Carry me!�

A good sport when dealing with the baby sister he’d begged for, Kevin scooped her up and took the towel from his mother with a grin. “Ok, Stell, lets get clothes on and then we can go read with Connor.�

“CONNOR!�

Excited by this, Stella clapped and hollered her delight. She spared neither mother nor Papa a glance as Kevin bounced his little sister out of the room. Kitty collapsed into a nearby chair, wondering where her energy went.

“If I live to see her graduate, I’ll be shocked,� she observed with a slight smile.

“Ah, children,� Charles chuckled, looking at his sopping suit in amusement. “She is a darling, Kitty and you know it.�

The younger mutant sighed, looking over at him with her head back against the sofa. She adored Charles and had since their first meeting a million years ago. He gave her away at her wedding, held her hand when she was in labor with Kevin while Piotr led the team on a mission. Little in her life did not come back to their beloved benefactor.

Her children knew him as their grandfather, a kindly old man who would sneak them sweets before dinner and kiss scraped knees. Kitty knew his ruthless side, as a mutant who fought the never-ending battle for peace. No matter which facet they knew best, it was common knowledge that Charles kept the monsters from under their beds.

She and Piotr were married just twelve years, living their lives wrapped up in the X-Men. Oh, they contemplated giving it up as Storm and Wolverine had, but decided against it. The Rasputins were too comfortable here in Westchester, in the mansion where they made their home. Neither of them could imagine being anywhere else, raising their children in any other place.

Of the X-Men Kitty grew up with, only five remained. Herself, Piotr, Warren and Betsy Worthington, and Bobby and Ali Drake. The former mutant Marie, once called Rogue, drifted away just after Logan and Ororo left for Alaska. Though she kept in contact with Kitty, she was killed in a car accident just eight years ago.

While Kitty mourned for her friend, it was accepted that none were close with her any longer. Rogue drifted away long before her death and that hurt more than anything.

Warren and Betsy had mutant rights in their veins and led the team as an accomplished duo. While Kitty and Pete, even Bobby and Ali took missions, it was widely understood that the Worthingtons were in control. They lived, breathed Xavier’s dream. Kitty assumed they would until the end of time.

Bobby and Ali were quirky, a little insane and completely goofy. They married late, finding each other when everyone else thought they’d never give into the attraction coming off of the pair in waves. Now married under ten years, they had one child – the boisterous, adventurous Connor – and another boy on the way. Ali used to tell Kitty parenthood terrified her. But pregnancy, motherhood came easily to the musician.

As if hearing her name, Ali stepped through Xavier’s open door. Her blonde hair was longer now, curling around her chin in a soft bob. She still wore her trademark t-shirts and frayed jeans, even as her middle began to swell with child once more.

“Ha, I just saw a naked Stella,� Ali teased as she came fully into the room. “Give you a chase, Mom?�

Kitty groaned. “I should ship her to a nudist colony.�

“She’d be right at home,� Ali agreed sagely.

Putting her hands to her belly, Dazzler sauntered up to Xavier’s desk and perched on it. At thirty, Alison Drake was still a badass. She could kick ass and take names, but Lord knew, she turned into one giant mush ball when it came to her family.

The fast friendship Kitty and Ali formed all those years ago in Alaska only cemented with time. Kitty felt she could tell Ali anything and cheerfully returned the favor.

“So, I just got off the phone with Hank,� Ali told her friend and mentor quietly. “Said his private files were hacked into last night.�

Alert immediately, Kitty forgot fatigue and sat up straight. Charles looked thoughtfully between both women. “Go on.� His voice was gentle, but the command was apparent.

“Someone downloaded everything on Storm and Wolverine they could get their hands on. He wasn’t specific, but I got the feeling it had to do with…Sinister.�

A foreboding chill traversed the length of Kitty’s spine at a slow, terrifying creep. “Sinister?�

Ali nodded. “He wanted us to be on our guard. He’s calling Alaska as we speak.�

Kitty shot her gaze to Xavier, knowing the pensive, worried furrow to his brow intimately. One did not spend forty years in the company of this powerful telepath without knowing how to read him like an open book.

Though she perched casually on the desk, Kitty could see the same mirrored in Ali. Her hands smoothed soothingly over her unborn child, but there was tension there, a slight tremble.

“We should call the X-Men in,� Kitty decided. “Are Warren and Bets back?�

“Yeah, they’re in the kitchen.�

“Send the children to bed,� Charles ordered as he rolled his wheelchair around the desk. “Gather the others.�

Kitty nodded quickly, standing to cross to the security panel on the office wall. As she had a hundred times before and would a hundred times more, Kitty activated the intercom.

“X-Men to the War Room.�

~**~


Henry, Alaska

When Ororo’s Land Rover pulled to a stop in front of the Gates home, her three teens tumbled out of it quickly. Shouting for the boys that were more cousins than friends, they bolted into the house while their mother took stock of the situation.

She cut the engine and the lights, slipping out of the SUV. Glancing about, she found evidence of Logan’s rampage and followed it without thought. Splintered wood littered the rocky dirt path leading into the woods. Faint snarls and the slice of metal against wood gave away her husband’s location even in the dark.

Ignoring her friends and children, Ororo sprinted into the tree line. “Logan?�

“Darlin’.�

He stood only a few yards from the entrance of the wood, his hands fisting and unclenching with those lethal claws extended. Sweating, breathing hard from the exertion, he stilled to allow her closer. Ororo threw her arms around the man she loved, soothing him in quiet whispers.

Claws snapped back into their home beneath Logan’s skin as his arms wound around her almost gratefully. She slipped a hand into his hair, flattening her palm against his skull to hold him in place. Her head tilted, giving him access to her scent while her skin buzzed and hummed him into solace.

“Jesus.� He whispered, inhaling deeply. “Still gets me every time.�

“She buzzes,� Ororo quoted from a night long ago. “Like it.�

Proud to make him smile, feeling the curve of his mouth against her throat, she pulled away to kiss his lips. His obsidian eyes held a hint of the ferocity ready to break free, swirling with the fear she didn’t know how to take away. Keeping him close, recalling those awful nights when nightmares tore him from the pleasant dreams, Ororo pressed her body completely into his.

“’Ro,� he choked on emotion, knowing he could never hide from her. “I think we have a problem.�

She maintained her composure by gripping it with her fingertips. “Come inside. We’ll work it out.�

Fifteen minutes later, the teenagers were all upstairs in Gabe’s bedroom with a set of movies and orders to behave themselves. Of course, the kids thought it was fantastic to have a mass sleep over on a school night, even if Jean rolled her eyes at Logan’s stern order to his sons to watch her like a hawk.

Mary brought the adults coffee as they assembled in the living room. Ororo enjoyed Mary and Ken’s home. It was slapdash, much like the couple that owned it. Nothing ever matched, which was less a conscious decision on their parts and more an extension of how they saw the world. The couple loved furniture and didn’t give a crap what should go where.

Instead of looking shabby, the entire house seemed to have a comfortable, lived in vibe. There was a soft, squashy, coffee-colored sofa beside a darker love seat. Both pieces were selected for comfort, not style. The coffee table was of a rich mahogany that bore the stress of five boys in scars and nicks, a place where feet were welcomed after a rough day.

It should have clashed with the maple end tables, but looked oddly fitting. Of course, in a house filled with men, there was an enormously shiny television, every gaming system known to mankind and a stereo that could reach the level of “Make your ears bleed�.

Settling on the love seat beside her husband, Ororo took her coffee and sipped slowly. Cheers of children wafted down the stairs, making her smile. Whatever gory action film they’d selected was obviously a hit.

She waited patiently while Ken and Logan filled their wives in on the events in the woods. Logan’s voice was quiet, with the hint of a growl that betrayed his concern. She glanced to Mary at the admission that Vertigo was mere yards from her home, not surprised to see anger and fear in those deep eyes.

When the men fell silent, Ororo and Mary locked gazes in that curious manner of holding a silent conversation. They agreed, without speaking, to a course of action.

“All right,� Mary said sternly. “The first order of business is to alert the Sheriff. I want those woods searched.�

“Mare…�

She held up a delicate, porcelain hand. “Shut up, Ken. I don’t care if they won’t find her. I want them searched.�

“I will contact the X-Men,� Ororo continued. “If Vertigo has been on the move, perhaps they can dig something up. If nothing else, perhaps Hank can use his contacts at the U.N.�

Both men glanced at each other, sharing a look that spoke volumes of “Women!� Ororo snorted into her coffee cup while Mary thumped the back of her husband’s head playfully.

“How much do we tell the kids?�

At Ken’s question, Ororo paled. Her children knew very little of the kidnappings that sent their father to their mother, sparking a chain reaction that led to a quiet, Alaskan life and the birth of three children. They knew their mother was barren and had used surrogates to have her babies, but the why was never questioned.

Logan’s eyes met hers and she had to fight back a sob. She didn’t want them to know, yet, what horrors the world could contain. She sheltered her children selfishly against hate and horror as they holed up in the wilds of Alaska. It was a decision the couple made together.

“Nothing,� Logan answered Ken without taking his eyes from Ororo. “Nothin’ yet.�

Mary and Ken nodded almost immediately. “I agree.� Ken answered.

“But, I think its wise if we rotate them for a while,� Mary said with a sigh. “Spring break’s coming up, we could send them all to New York. The boys have been begging.�

Ororo shot her friend a look, knowing, feeling the acute pain this was causing her. Sending all eight children to New York was a yearly ritual, but the separation was always hard. Usually, they spent a summer month in Westchester with the X-Men, generally running amok. It gave the parents some time alone and the kids a chance to hang with other mutants while Charles played “grandpa�.

Two of the Gates boys were mutants. Gabe could manipulate molecules in a rendition of stopping time. His little brother, Trevor, moved at super-human speed. They, in particular, loved visits to New York, where they could compare mutations and indulge in powers-allowed Dodgeball.

“Might be a plan,� Logan nodded. “We’ll talk to Chuck about it.�

“Until then,� Ororo cut in smoothly. “Be on your guard. If Vertigo has surfaced, God only knows what she wants.�

But, in the secret places of her heart, Ororo knew what Vertigo wanted. She cast her gaze to the ceiling, where boyish laughter and girly giggles drifted through the floorboards. Vertigo was Sinister’s devoted follower and what he wanted was sitting upstairs at this very moment.

The children.

Chapter Four: Parental Instinct

Life is a waterfall
We're one in the river
And one again after the fall
Swimming through the void
We hear the word
We lose ourselves
But we find it all
~System of a Down


Because it crept up on four a.m. before Ororo and Logan headed home, they decided to leave the kids with the Gateses. Jean would bunk with Mary while the boys all fell into the numerous bedrooms. Logan helped Mary set up the cot in the master bedroom for the teenage girl, then carried her sleepy form to bed.

He and Ororo returned home alone, the short drive made in complete silence. He didn’t want to think about what this meant for his family, the danger coming as he’d nearly forgotten it could. Had he let himself go soft? Vertigo and her companions got the drop on him. His children, his wife now in danger from a past he tried so hard to forget.

Ororo went immediately into the bedroom, leaving Logan to check the flashing answering machine. Listening carefully for the soft sounds of her moving about in their room, ensuring she was fine as his overprotective instincts demanded, he hit the button.

“One new message,� the mechanical voice cut through the near silence.

“Logan? Ororo?� Logan felt his hair stand on end. “It’s Henry. Of course, it would be the one time I need you to pick up that you don’t answer. I fear that I have some alarming news.�

“’RO!�

Her footsteps padded in from the bedroom, surprise written on her face as Hank continued from the machine.

“Someone broke into my files last night. It took some time to decipher what they were after…I’m sorry, but I believe they desired my files on Sinister. I do not need to tell you how serious this matter is. I will call when I have more information. Please, let Charles know of any odd occurrences in your neck of the proverbial woods.�

“He alerted the X-Men,� Ororo cut in with a slight smile.

“Take care of yourselves, my dear friends. Tell the children Uncle Henry says hello.�

The machine clicked, mechanical voice echoing in the sudden silence. “Tuesday, eight oh five p.m.�

He turned to his wife, finding his traitorous hands trembling once again. Every mention of Sinister shredded the control he’d worked so hard to maintain. It brought him back to memories of painful violation, of the rage he enacted to save future mutants from biological rape at the hands of a madman.

“Logan?� His wife took both hands, smoothing her delicate fingers over rough knuckles that hid weapons within. “I’m here. We will be all right.�

Without questioning the impulse, he roped her into his arms. She flattened her body to his instinctively, a wealth of humming flesh pressed against his skin. His face buried in the juncture between throat and shoulder, inhaling the scent of her to beat back the beast so long held at bay.

“She wants our babies,� he growled into her skin. “Just like him. They’re comin’ for us, darlin’.�

“Then we will have to bar the way.� Her voice held conviction, certainty. “No matter the cost, husband, I will never allow anyone to rip my family apart.�

He wanted, so desperately to believe her. Hope was an ever-present sentiment coming from his adoring wife, one that he had actually begun to express himself in the last two decades. But here and now, with the dangers of their abandoned life pressing in around them, he wanted only to rage, to protect those babies they brought into the world from any and all harm.

Holding Ororo close, he fought back the raging beast within, concentrating forcefully on the sedate and steady thrum of her heartbeat. With every pulse she reminded him of life, of the things they fought so hard for in the last years. Her scent wafted through sensitive nostrils, bringing primal instinct to the forefront. He knew every smell, every flavor, every sound that this woman could produce. She could drown out the world for him, let him linger in the one place where he felt truly content, truly alive. In her arms.

As though she could sense what he needed, Ororo’s soft, unpainted mouth pressed a wet kiss to his scruffy throat. His arms tightened around her, bunching the soft satin of the nightdress she’d only just pulled on. Satin and skin intoxicated him further, bringing forward the mixture of lust and love he could always find in her.

A soft gasp escaped those perfect lips when he dragged her onto the floor. Her long, lithe body sprawled on the carpeting, his wife moaning in eager delight when he slipped his hands from her back to her belly before traveling the length of her caramel legs.

One scrape of metal on metal divested her of the shiny material, leaving her glorious body bare to feasting eyes and aching hands. He sheathed deadly claws, touching Ororo in every place he could reach. He knew every line and curve to her body, but was eager to explore them again, as though it were the first time.

She rose up under his attentions, offering herself to him as though she wanted it, needed that touch. Unable to remain impassive, she reached for him, dragging soft fingertips over his flesh until that unique hum nearly undid him completely.

He took her with passion, with tenderness even he once thought himself incapable of. Ororo gasped her pleasure, rearing up to wrap slender arms around his shoulders. She whispered into his ear, endearments and wants until his mind crowded with her desires. Hot and wet, she gripped him tightly, pulling him deeper and deeper still until he could no longer distinguish masculine from feminine, husband from wife. Joined, two halves of the same whole, they raced to climax while chanting one another’s names.

Spent, head whirling from the devastating effect of his wife, Logan collapsed atop her. Ororo hummed and buzzed, stroking his back with lazy fingers until he felt the very will to worry seep out of his pores.

Entangled on the carpeting of their living room, Logan lay his head on Ororo’s chest, letting her soothing heartbeat lull him into contentment. They lay that way until dawn, cherishing these moments together.

Worry could wait until morning.

~**~

Alexandria, Virginia

Every morning started the same way for a number of years. He woke to the soft silence of early morning, sometimes in bright sunlight and singing birds and others in a blanket of snow. He rolled in bed to kiss the woman he vowed to share his life with. She would smile, turn her body into his and greet him with a grumbled “turn off the alarm�.

It gave him comfort, the simplicity of those cherished moments. In a world where he confronted chaos and hatred every day, he needed this single memory to carry him through the bad, until he could wake with this amazing woman once more. He wanted to make the world a better place, for her. He fought for it with every meeting, every trip around the world. He negotiated and made speeches that set the inner desire for good in all humans aflame.

She was his inspiration, even after several years. He always thought of her while composing his next address. Everything to fight for, he recalled shouting once in Genosha, all the good in the world, everything the human race has tried to find. Heaven, Nirvana, God. That, quite simply, he found in these stolen moments with his wife.

“I’m awake!�

As if by some perfectly controlled cue, one raven-haired little girl burst through the door on sturdy five-year-old legs. Her Dora the Explorer nightgown had twisted and turned in her sleep and that cherubic face was all pink with the evidence of untroubled slumber.

She leapt onto the bed, finding her perfect little spot between mother and father. He snuggled her under the covers, grinning as his wife shifted to squish the giggling little one between them.

“Daddy,� she smacked her lips, bright blue eyes closing in the contentment of child safe between beloved parents. “School today?�

“Oh yes,� Henry McCoy replied, rubbing noses with his cherished daughter. “School today, my little Madeline.�

“Then to daycare,� Patricia muttered from the other side of the bed. Her arms wove around the soft, sweet-smelling child in a close embrace. “Is that all right, Maddy?�

“Uh-huh,� the girl replied with a sleepy yawn. “Daddy has a speech and Mom’s on TV again, huh?�

Hank chuckled, catching his wife’s eye and dropping her a wink. Madeline toyed absently with the thick blue fur covering her father’s chin, the tiny fingers twisting the hair as she had from the day she was born.

Refusing to dwell on anything bad while cuddled in bed with the two women in his life, Hank stayed far too late in their arms. The mad dash to eat, brush, and dress began ten minutes too late, but neither Trish nor Hank bothered to complain. They both spent far too much time away from their child – not to mention one another – due to the demands of their professional lives. One morning ten minutes late could be easily excused.

Hank kissed his wife goodbye, settled his daughter in her safety seat and dashed into the fray that was the Washington commute. Maddy sang with her Veggie Tales CD, that angelic voice taking the stressful edge off of the hectic traffic. When Hank sang with her, little Maddy broke into giggles and sang all the louder.

He dropped her at school, receiving a long, wonderful embrace like that the girl had given her mother when they parted. Hank watched with the care of any father until Maddy was with her teacher, all bright smiles and raven curls.

“Ambassador.�

Hank turned with a smile, holding his hand out for Senator Albert Ross. The young politician accepted the gesture gratefully, though Hank could see his gaze behind horn-rimmed glasses stray to the boy just catching up to Madeline McCoy.

“Senator,� Hank rumbled in reply. “Your Jacob seems to have grown a foot since yesterday.�

Ross grinned with fatherly pride Hank understood all too well. “And he is constantly tripping on it. Your Madeline is just beautiful, Henry. She looks just like her mother.�

“Well,� Hank chuckled as they turned toward parked cars. “I’m glad for that. Trish already complains enough about shedding on the sofa.�

Ross threw this head back to laugh, unlocking the doors of his mini-van as they approached. Henry genuinely likes the young, idealistic Senator from Virginia. The man had enough faith to stave off the cynicism that plagues modern politics mingled with a spine of steel. They often crusaded their causes together, especially on the subject of mutant and human rights.

Senator Ross, though not a mutant, fought tooth and nail for equality. Hank secretly slated the young man for the next presidential election with his fingers crossed hopefully.

“I hear you’ve had a problem at the office,� Albert changed the subject quickly. “Was anyone hurt?�

Warmed by the true concern in Albert’s eyes, Hank smiled and clapped his shoulder familiarly. “No, thank heavens, but several files were stolen.�

Ross frowned. “Which?�

Knowing his words would stay confidential, Hank briefly outlined the files taken and the curiosity he himself felt for the entire situation. Henry wanted to don his former uniform and codename, to rush back into the fray. Only at Charles’ insistence had he bothered to return to politics after Wolverine and Storm retired. He adored his work, but times such as these begged for Beast to set aside Ambassador McCoy.

“I can make some discreet inquiries into the Bio-Med divisions,� Ross said thoughtfully. “Sinister’s work has popped up on several radars over the last years. I know Bio-Tech was looking into something like that, designing mutant super-soldiers.�

Hank considered this, then sighed. “This, my friend, may be more personal than Bio-Tech outgrowing its proverbial britches.�

“Maybe,� Ross agreed. “But it won’t hurt to ask around. If someone’s looking to get revenge or start up Sinister’s work, it’s going to be a mess.�

As Ross opened the van’s door, Hank gave him a small, thankful smile. “My friend, I know your schedule is overflowing, I hate to compound it with my problems.�

“Hank,� Ross grinned. “If someone is seriously playing with Sinister’s work, it’ll be everyone’s problem.�

Hank chuckled, shook his head and headed back to his car.

~**~

Henry, Alaska


Ororo smiled broadly at the pudgy old man in a battered cowboy hat as he asended the stairs leading to her porch. The dogs looked up from their mid-afternoon nap, wagging fluffy tails at the familiar figure.

Sheriff Tasser aged well in the last two decades. Lines were etched deeply into his face, speaking of wisdom while soft eyes twinkled with kindness. Widowed some years now, the Sheriff kept close tabs on Ororo and her family, often stopping by on Sunday evenings for supper and beer with the Munroes.

He had two deputies now and a growing community to look after. Ororo often thought that he treated Henry as his family, the patriarch no one crossed. He still broke up bar fight down at Dottie’s. He chased the kids driving too fast through the treacherous mountain passes and dropped by Berger Holt’s every time he got too drunk and the missus locked him out of the house again.

Something about Henry would always be Tasser’s. The local government usually deferred to his judgment and there was scarcely an adult running through the town that didn’t have several “Tasser� stories from a wild youth.

He gave her that patented half-smile as he approached and gratefully accepted a tall glass of freshly brewed sweet tea.

“Your man at home?� Tasser questioned, indicating to the house. “I’ve got some news, honey.�

Ororo nodded, beckoning him inside. She glanced at the tree line, not surprised to see several volunteers still searching the woods. Her heartbeat skipped as Tasser followed her into the house. Everyone knew that the mass grave Ororo escaped from all those years ago lay just beyond those trees. That patch of forest led to the Gates home… what had they found?

Logan stood in the kitchen, washing wood stain from his hands. She offered her husband a tight smile while Tasser stomped mud from his boots, mindful of Ororo’s spotless floors. Logan dried his hands with a dishtowel, grunting a hello to their longtime friend. Both men nodded in that oddly masculine ritual. Ororo had to cover her mouth with one hand to hide the grin.

“Come on in here, Logan, and sit down.�

“Find somethin’ in the woods?� The gruff man questioned, perching on the arm of the sofa. Ororo sat beside him on the cushion, not bothering to order him off the arm.

“We did,� Tasser nodded. Ororo’s throat tightened when he remained standing, worrying the bill of his battered hat between rough hands. “Now, I want you both to stay calm.�

“Reg,� Ororo sighed. “That’s not helping. Please, just tell us.�

Tasser exhaled sharply and Ororo tried to catch his eye. Their friend kept his eyes on Logan, gauging him, testing. He knew, better than most, what rage could do to this man. There were times, early in their marriage, when Logan would vanish into the woods. A trail of dead animals led to a feral man who once clawed old Tasser in the chest.

Luckily, Reginald survived the encounter and the two remained friends. That did not mean, however, that Tasser thought the beast within forever gone. He merely respected how dangerous a man like Logan could be.

“We found remains of a campsite on both properties,� Tasser said carefully. “One you saw, right outside the Gates place. The other…�

Ororo felt a chill race the length of her spine. “My grave. Someone camped at the grave.�

She felt Logan’s comforting hand on her shoulder and relaxed a fraction. Hunting often took them by that hateful place in the last several years. Each time, she and Logan preferred to ignore it, to simply mush on. Why should she fear a place, even after all this time?

They’d buried the innocent girls murdered there in a nearby plot. Some of them remained nameless, but Ororo carried every memory carved into her heart. At least, she thought so often, one person remembered those girls.

The unbidden image of her daughter, cold and dirty in the darkness, ran through her mind. Ororo closed her eyes to fight it, noting that both men watched her cautiously. Logan was dangerous, yes, but Ororo could wipe Henry off the map if she lost her calm.

“I’m sorry,� Tasser whispered. “We’ve got dogs comin’ in from Nome, but it might be too late.�

“You don’t need dogs,� Logan interrupted as he stood. “I’m better than any bloodhound.�

Ororo opened her eyes in time to see Tasser cut his gaze to her. There was worry in those kind eyes now; his fingers gripped the brim of his hat more tightly. Ororo glanced to her husband, noting the rigidity of his stance and the way the hair on the back of his neck stood as though affected by static.

“You sure that’s a good idea, Logan?� Tasser questioned.

Her husband shrugged. “I’ve helped ya before.�

“Right,� the Sheriff nodded. “With missin’ tourists and lost hikers. This is personal, Mr. Munroe. Think you can be rational?�

Ororo snorted with laughter. Logan arched a brow at her, amusement playing about his lips. Reginald grinned openly for the first time since his arrival.

“I’m rational.�

Tasser and Logan regarded one another in silence for several moment. Ororo swept her gaze from one to the other, wondering which man was more stubborn. Her husband might be the most dangerous man on the planet, but Tasser could dig his heels in like a bull.

They were enormously entertaining.

“All right,� the Sheriff finally agreed, breaking the silence. “We’ll take up the trail on the northern edge.�

Logan nodded as Ororo stood. “Comin’, darlin’?�

She looked to the wristwatch on her arm and shook her head. “The children will be home soon. I would rather not leave them alone.�

He agreed with a signature grunt, leaning forward to kiss her lips.

“I have Deputy White at the school,� Tasser interjected. “Keepin’ an eye on things.�

Ororo gifted their friend with a wide, relieved smile. “Thank you, my friend.�

“I’ll be back soon, darlin’,� Logan assured her, stealing another kiss as Tasser headed for the door.

“You’d better. It’s moose-steak for supper.� Ororo handed him the flannel coat from a nearby hook.

“Wouldn’t miss it.�

As he and Tasser strode purposefully through the door, sleek-haired Mary bounded up the steps. She tossed both men a winsome smile, but scarcely paused before bouncing into the house with a hug for Ororo.

“Hey, good-lookin’.� Mary kissed her cheek quickly. “Thought I’d see what the story is.�

Ororo clasped Mary’s alabaster hand in hers, taking her toward the kitchen. Something about this entire situation seemed to call for a hit of whiskey and some chocolate cake. As though Mary read her mind, she veered off course, scooping up two glasses and a bottle from the mahogany bar Logan built years ago.

“I’m losing my fucking mind,� Mary sighed as they settled at the bar.

“Oddly, I understand that sentiment exactly,� Ororo agreed. She offered her dear friend a slice of cake while Mary poured the liquor.

“Almost didn’t let the kids out of the house this morning.� Mary lifted her glass and downed it before pouring another.

Ororo followed suit, letting the thick burn of good whiskey warm her suddenly chilled insides. Sometimes, all she needed in the world was a bottle of whiskey and the friend she never expected in the Alaskan wild.

“I followed them to school,� Ororo admitted. “When Ken dropped them off, I nearly shackled them all to the house. But I couldn’t, not without explaining why.�

“Tim knows something’s up,� Mary continued. “He kept asking me ‘Mom, what’s wrong? Did something happen?’ What can I tell him?�

Understanding her friend’s pain as only another mother could, Ororo reached across the bar to grasp her hand. They sat together in sympathetic silence for several minutes. Tigger and Eeyore barked outside, the cheerful sound of puppy-play drifted through the screen door. Ororo glanced at the clock again, wondering how time seemed to have stopped.

She wanted, needed to see her children. They might flourish on the very cusp of adulthood, but in her heart they were the tiny, helpless little beings she brought home from Fairbanks hospital.

“I thought this was behind us,� Mary whispered suddenly, drawing Ororo’s attention back to the present. “When you and Logan came back from New York, once that asshole Sinister was dead…I thought it was over.�

“I did, too,� Ororo admitted. “Once the years began to roll by, I thought we’d escaped the pain. Every time the children laughed and it bounced off the mountains, it drove the fear a little further away.�

Mary finished her second glass in one hearty swallow. “I never thought I’d have friends like you and Logan. I never thought I’d get to watch someone’s kids grow up, much less right next to mine. It’s been like a fairytale for twenty years. How dare someone fuck up our happy ending!�

Ororo turned on the barstool and enveloped Mary in her arms. She heard the fear and tears in Mary’s voice and it brought the sting of her own behind her eyes, Ororo fought to keep her control over the elements. The sky darkened with a preternatural storm as the two friends embraced. They rocked together on their stools, trying to find some measure of comfort in their suddenly ripped apart lives.

Rain pelted the windows, thunder crashed through the heavens in timeless dance with shocks of white-hot lightning.

“Whoa, ‘Ro,� Mary chuckled against her shoulder. “You’re really worried.�

Startled, Ororo released her friend, tilting her head toward the ceiling. Fear gripped her heart anew, creeping through her entire body like an icy fist.

“That is not me,� Ororo whispered, checking her internal mutation. “Goddess, that’s not me.�

Mary was off her barstool and out the door almost before Ororo could move. Her friend was screeching for Jean and the twins, her voice drowned out by the twisting skies above. The mutant once hailed as a goddess bolted for the front door, tapping into her fear to call on her devastating gift.

She thought she heard Logan scream, but her focus remained solely on her children. Thunder crashed again, and this time she heard an ethereal woman’s voice shouting from the very skies.

“MOTHER!�

“Jean.� Ororo whispered her daughter’s name as Mary roared her truck to life.

“FLY!� Mary screamed. “GO, STORM! FLY!�

Without thinking, Storm called on the elements and thrust herself into the sky. If she followed the currents of air to the eye of this raging tempest, she could locate her daughter and sons. Jean was adept at controlling her mutation and the message sent to her terrified mother had to be deliberate.

A chant of “Mother� seemed caught on the wind, the disembodied voice calling to her and tugging at already aching heartstrings. The scent of burning gasoline reached her nostrils as she flew over the highway leading to the high school. Ororo’s sharp eyes caught movement on the ground below.

She blinked rain from her eyes, her heart stopping cold in her chest when she recognized her children’s beloved car overturned on the embankment. Without thinking, without breathing, Storm thrust her arms before her body and dove.