Chapter One: Punk. Rocker. Mutant. Babe.

I like smoke and lightning
Heavy metal thunder
Racin' with the wind
And the feelin' that I'm under
Yeah darlin' go make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once
And explode into space
~Steppenwolf


For a little under a year, a mutant known as Wolverine found sanctuary in the grounds of a sprawling mansion. Westchester, New York played host to a wealth of fantastical freaks known as homo superior. A man named Charles Xavier created this haven, taking in the weak and ragged, the powerful and angry, any that required protection and knowledge from a world seeped in hate and anger.

For his part, Wolverine – better known as Logan to the occupants of the mansion – wasn’t quite sure how he felt about the placidity of Xavier’s Institute for Higher Learning. Logan himself thrived on chaos, on violence. Running about with a group of school kids and their slightly elder teachers didn’t exactly groove with his well-ordered thought process on how the world worked.

In fact, Logan came to this place determined to murder the wheelchair bound Xavier, completing a mission his former superiors demanded of him. But when he came face to face with an unafraid and immensely powerful Xavier, the man offered him a choice.

I can help you, Wolverine. Together, we can piece together what they stole from you…if only you join my X-Men, train them to defend themselves.

He still had doubts about his free will in joining this group. Xavier had, after all, been struggling to survive at the time. Perhaps the enormously gifted telepath had simply nudged him into accepting. Either way, he was still here, eleven months later. And, to his continual shock, he liked it here.

There were perks, of course. Besides the warm bed and constant supply of Molson, Logan had the distinct pleasure of a woman willing to hop into the aforementioned bed with him. His fire-haired girlfriend kept him on his toes, even if her sometimes-girlish behavior could grate on his nerves. She possessed a soft heart and quick mind, two things that Logan found inherently attractive.

Her killer body wasn’t so bad either, particularly when she tucked it into that fit-like-second-skin leather uniform all X-Men wore into the field. Jean Grey, a former medical student still working through her internship, became just one more thing tying Logan to the expansive mansion and Xavier’s kooky dream.

Of course, there were downsides. Teaching. Oh, how Wolverine loathed teaching. It wasn’t so much the position of authority – which even Xavier had to admit was laughable – but the fact that nothing he said permeated through the thick, stupid skulls of the children he taught. Logan often likened many of his Shop and Defense classes to screaming down a well and expecting an answer.

Training the X-Men yielded slightly better results. The ragtag group of mutant vigilantes was earnest in wanting to learn the various forms of fighting locked into Wolverine’s mind, but several had neither the patience or will to follow through. Iceman, for example, preferred his brash American boxing and Angel, ever the pacifist, fell back on quaint, graceful French kickboxing.

Logan washed his hands of both, deciding that they were better off with what made them comfortable. Beast needed no help, with his preternatural feline grace and impressive acrobatic skills. Jean was just…hopeless. No matter how often he tried to teach her complicated Japanese fighting styles, she would fall back on her mental powers and forget every damn thing she learned.

He taught her self-defense basics and backed away very slowly.

Two, however, were the light of Wolverine’s teaching life. Spunky, vibrant Shadowcat and the Asian beauty Psylocke proved more than capable and willing to learn. Logan took several hours each day to train them together. They proved alike in many ways, but differed when it came to weapons.

Shadowcat preferred none, using her agility, grace and speed to fell much larger opponents. While Psylocke could do the same, she desired steel blades. Katana, to be precise. Her mutation, though similar to Xavier and Jean in mental prowess, also gave her what they fondly called “psi-blades�. Twin blades of pure mental energy erupted from her hands, which went a long way in forming a bond between she and Logan.

Though his blades were six strong and made of near-unbreakable adamantium.

Drawn back to the present, Logan watched as Psylocke completed her kata, the woman bowing low in respect as she finished. Her palm flattened against a fist, even as her chest heaved with ragged breaths of exertion.

“Nice,� he grunted, which made her smile winsomely. “Form’s comin’ along.�

“It’s a fair cop, guv,� she replied, the slow British drawl still odd from that olive skinned form. “How’s the Kitten doin’?�

At her reference to Katherine Pryde, or Shadowcat, Logan jerked one shoulder. “Better. She’s quick and that’s a plus.�

“Too right.� Psylocke clasped her hands over her head, stretching like a cat. The beautiful woman, Logan thought, could tempt a priest willingly into hell. Miles of golden skin, long, smooth muscles, slender curves and a set of wickedly plump lips. He gave her a once over, feeling his balant maleness perk up when her bosom swayed as she moved.

The most shocking features – and ones that betrayed her as a mutant – were come hither eyes the perfect shape of almonds and that long, silken hair. Both came hued a dark, deep violet. Though the features should have looked odd, they were strangely fitting on the woman. Her manner and movement were of one confident in every aspect of her body, smoky sexuality and womanly wiles.

Thank God she was a rather proud lesbian or his relationship with Jean might swirl the drain. Something about Psylocke could make a man sit up and beg. Not to mention the fact that she liked girls came across to many males as a distinct challenge.

“You kiss Jean with that on your mind, luv?� She laughed lightly, dropping him a wink.

Not bothering to be embarrassed that her continual psi-scan picked up his thoughts, Logan smirked wickedly. “You sure you don’t wanna tumble, Bets?�

Betsy Braddock paused, giving him a speculative look. “If I wasn’t taken, I might be tempted.�

Logan’s brow rose. “You so taken, where’s your girl at?�

One delicate shoulder rose in a half-shrug. “Called last week from Calcutta, only God knows where she went after that.�

“What the hell kinda relationship is that?�

“A grown up kind,� Psylocke shot back with humor. “Sometimes you need to get away. I do it, Jean does it, we all do. She goes with her friend, yeah, but I know she’ll always come back.�

Intrigued by this, Logan rolled his shoulders, taking a step toward her. Psylocke unashamedly pulled her sweaty tank from her chest, standing proud in naught but a sports bra that left little to the imagination.

“How do you know that?� He questioned softly, wondering how anyone could have that kind of faith or trust.

Betsy batted her long, violet-tipped lashes at him. “Look at me. Who wouldn’t come back for this?�

At that, Logan threw his head back to laugh. Betsy’s somewhat arrogant and occasionally acidic humor might offend many, but he found it refreshing. There were no pretenses with Betsy, only harsh and brutal truth.

Noting that she fidgeted with the plain gold band on her ring finger – her symbol of commitment she once told him – Logan touched her hand. She smiled tightly, sadness coming over her eyes for only a moment.

“I didn’t mean to make ya sad,� he apologized softly.

“You didn’t.� Betsy tossed her head. “I miss her and I wish she’d get that arse home. I’m dyin’ for a good shag, let me tell ya.�

“Don’t we all,� he replied sagely, slinging a companionable arm around her shoulder. “Lets go see what Slim’s got on the grill. I’m starving.�

“Let me shower first.� She ducked out from under his arm, dancing away lightly. “Go give Jean a snog. It’s been three hours, she might end up in a coma.�

“Ha-fuckin’-ha.� He tossed back at her as she ducked into the showers.

Maybe life wasn’t so bad at Mutant High, Logan thought as he left the training room. He decided to follow Psylocke advice, bellowing for Jean as he hit the upper levels of the mansion.

Not so bad at all.

~**~

Summer gifted the mutant school with an absence of most hormone-impaired teenagers and thick, balmy nights. Though the air could turn sticky, Logan much preferred the warm laze of afternoon, when the day wound down and night had not yet begun.

Typical in the year since he’d come to this place, Logan found himself on the back deck just before twilight, engaged in a nightly spring and summer ritual. The X-Men lounged in various chairs and rockers, letting a sweet breeze slip over them. They’d gorged themselves on a meal grilled out back, complete with beer for the grownups and soda for the younger group.

A sort of freedom came over the X-Men when the kids were gone. Xavier relaxed the rules, allowing the adults to live like adults for a few weeks. There was probably more bedroom-swapping than he strictly expected, but what could he do? Ground them?

Logan sprawled on a long chaise, Jean settled between his thighs with her back to his chest. He could smell the sweet melon of her shampoo mingled with her musky perfume. She idly sipped at a beer, drawing patterned in the holes of his jeans with long fingernails. He enjoyed this time of day, but there was something to be said about the night. Especially when Jean slipped out of her room to bounce on him for a while.

Psylocke, Angel, and Iceman occupied a wide glider, limbs thrown over one another almost carelessly. A bond existed between those three, something he glimpsed his first day in the mansion. Usually they could be found together, playing cards or shooting pool in the Rec Room when they weren’t out painting the town red.

Betsy did not hide her status as homosexual, and he figured that was why her two companions never lost themselves in her good looks and flirtations. It was easy to flirt back when it was safe and nothing was safer than a committed lesbian.

Scott Summers, also called Cyclops, held a cellular phone to his ear. Another ritual, Logan thought somewhat snidely. His girlfriend kept the boy on a two-foot leash and frequently jerked it as though to ensure he still had it fastened. Every night at exactly the same time, she called from Boston. Lord help Slim if a female voice giggled at him while she was on the line.

Because she smelled good and he was feeling tactile, Logan reached down and shifted Jean between his legs. She smiled up at him, her classic beauty momentarily stunning him. So, she wasn’t the wildest woman around, she kept him steady. No, he deliberately did not think boring, no matter how often that thought crossed his mind.

Jean and boring became four-letter words recently. Logan figured his nomadic side was simply rearing it’s ugly head, making him itch to just get on his bike and go. If he mentioned that though, Jean cried. One thing Logan could not stand was making Jean cry. Just the tremble of her chin could make him kick himself in the ass to a mantra of “I’m an asshole�.

Colossus and Shadowcat left for the evening, off to an opera showing in New York City. Logan liked them both, even if love and affection nearly oozed off of the couple. Kitty needed someone calm and true; Pete really needed to lighten up. Good match, he thought while toying with the end of Jean’s ponytail.

“Oh, hey,� Iceman said suddenly, reaching into his pocket. It wasn’t an easy feat, with Psylocke’s head in his lap and his own feet tucked under his backside. “I found something today.�

“What?� Angel asked, leaning over as much as he could with Betsy’s legs in his lap. The girl sprawled over the two of them like furniture and neither seemed to mind.

Bobby Drake managed to get a crumpled paper from his pocket at last, handing it to Angel so he and Psylocke could look at it.

Immediately, both broke into fits of hearty laughter.

“Wanna share with the class?� Jean asked testily, as though she felt left out of the bonding moment.

Psylocke tossed the paper at her, which Logan now realized was a photograph. Jean smoothed the creases gently, her mouth forming a thin line at the people in it.

There was a blonde, he noticed immediately. Thin, and dressed a style that Logan could only call “punk�. Her long hair had tips of deep black, her eyebrows pierced twice. She had her mouth open, as though screaming with the music from a band in the background. Her hand, upon which every finger bore a thick ring, reached for the camera in a rocker’s “devil� sign. She was pretty, Logan thought, despite the heavy makeup. Straight features and pale, pale skin.

Her free arm draped around another woman’s shoulders. This one Logan blinked at. Her skin was darker than her companion’s, but still a light shade of cocoa. Huge blue eyes peeked out from a fringe of snow-white hair. Her lips were full, lush and painted “You want me� red.

Both women looked free, happy, and likely to cause no end of trouble.

“Who’re they?� Logan asked curiously, wracking his brain to recall if he’d met this dynamic duo.

Cyclops, whom had leaned over to see once his call ended, smirked. “Storm and Dazzler.�

“Storm and Dazzler?� Logan repeated in confusion.

“Our very own hellions,� Jean offered. His sensitive ears picked up the light annoyance in her tone, but he chose to ignore it.

“They’re X-Men,� Iceman offered.

“Where are they?� Logan questioned, remembering several mentions of them over the year he’d been at the mansion. No one ever spoke of them in present tense…

“They’re off,� Cyclops paused as though searching for words with a grin on his face. “Doing whatever it is Storm and Dazzler do when they’re together.�

Now intrigued, Logan arched a brow as Scott took the photograph, smiling somewhat sadly at the pair. Logan glanced to Jean, whom shrugged one shoulder and indicated to his head. She wanted to speak silently and because the curiosity was killing him, he nodded.

Storm was Scott’s girlfriend until last year. Her quiet mental voice explained. It ended well enough and they were still friends, but she left right after.

Why? He asked, not sure why it mattered.

Jean gave a mental shrug. I don’t know. They don’t always offer us an explanation for taking off.

“And then, next thing I know, we’re going down I-90 at 140 an hour with a trail of cops behind us. Man, I thought the Professor was going to peel the front of my head off.�

Drawn out of silent conference with Jean, Logan looked up as Drake finished yet another of his amusing tales. In his months at the mansion, Logan had heard hundreds, but what impressed him the most with he’d never, not once, heard Iceman repeat himself.

“Then there was the time Storm and Cyclops ended up in lock up overnight,� Angel chimed in with a grin.

Cyclops groaned, handing the photograph back to Bobby. “It sounded like a good idea at the time.�

Even Jean laughed at that. Logan wrapped his arms around her and looked directly at Iceman.

“Ok, this I’ve gotta hear.�

Drake grinned wickedly.

~**~

He shouldn’t be thinking about her.

Cyclops finished his flight simulation for the Blackbird and pulled the comm. device from his ear. Letting out the annoyed breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, Scott glanced around the Danger Room’s mock up of the jet’s cockpit and sighed.

With his eyes firmly closed, he slipped the visor up and jammed his fingertips into tired eyes. Last night’s dinner turned into a show, each X-Man sharing stories of Dazzler and Storm until the night wore on and exhaustion set in.

Psylocke glanced at him several times through the evening, sympathy written clearly on those delicate features. She missed them, too, he thought feeling like an ass. If he hadn’t decided Storm was bad for his leadership role with the X-Men, if he hadn’t just tossed her aside after two years, perhaps she wouldn’t have found it necessary to take off with Dazzler into the proverbial sunset.

No one blamed him outwardly, but for weeks the accusation was in every eye. Until Wolverine showed up, trying to murder their mentor, he’d been the asshole of the school. Storm and Dazzler were a team like no other and when they graced the mansion with their presence, it came alive. With them gone, it seemed somehow muted, somehow distant.

Cold.

They’d called last week, he remembered. Drunk and giggly, they left him a message on his private line, butchering Steppenwolf’s brilliance after what sounded like several bottles of whatever it is they drink in India.

India? What the hell were they doing in India?

He’d gone with them once, Scott sighed. Spur of the moment, minutes after their diplomas were hot in their hands, Storm asked if he wanted to run away for a while. He agreed without thinking, letting Storm whisk him off to Columbia for two months. Ali and Betsy went along as well, the four of them bashing around Bogotá as though they had not a care in the world.

Those were the days. Before responsibility set in, Scott could be impulsive, too. He’d reveled in it when dating the untamable Storm. There was nothing he wouldn’t try, no thrill too much. Perhaps the adrenaline high made him feel worthy of that woman, if only for a moment. He wasn’t, he mused, slipping his visor back on. Scott didn’t think any man was good enough for her.

Calling out the deactivation code for the Danger Room, he left the training with his head still muddled. Even a hot shower and fresh set of clothes didn’t help him reign in his thoughts. His girlfriend would beat him senseless while shredding his mind like lettuce if she busted him. For some reason, any comparison between her and Storm sent her into rage.

“Hey, Slim.�

Looking up as he entered the kitchen, Scott found Wolverine and Jean enjoying a few minutes alone and immediately hated himself for breaking up the moment. It could be damn near impossible to get ten minutes alone during the day, especially with training and the gearing up for a new semester.

“Logan,� Scott nodded. “Jean.�

“Hi,� she beamed, lighting up the room with it.

Deciding to grab a drink and head for the hills, Scott moved toward the industrial size refrigerator. He needed to go through several things for his English classes before his girl called to complain about her own. Wouldn’t that be fun?

Before he could put his hand on a bottle of water, he heard the unmistakable roar of an engine drifting in from the front door. He froze immediately, listening as people stepped into the halls at that signature noise.

“Charger,� said Wolverine as he stood, tilting his head as though listening intently. “1970. Holy shit. Who drives one of those?�

Ororo. Scott thought the name, pushed past the pain in his heart.

Without waiting for an answer, Logan strode from the room. Scott followed with Jean, trying to pull himself together as the engine revved again. Iceman, Psylocke, and Angel hit the hallway from the staircase a beat behind Logan, the group trailing outside as though called by the song of that sweet ride.

“Holy shit,� Wolverine breathed when he stepped onto the porch. “That’s a fuckin’ car.�

Bold and glossy black, Storm’s beloved Dodge Charger screamed American muscle. She’d redone most of the work herself, from engine to body. He’d helped her when able, but left the flawless paint job to herself and Alison Blaire.

The driver killed the engine, then stuck her entire head and torso out of the open driver’s side window. She sat on the edge, tossed her friends a grin and winked.

“Well, hello.�

The passenger door opened as Betsy pushed past Logan and Scott. Blonde and thin, Alison jumped from the vehicle. She’d pulled on a pair of faded fatigues, topping it off with a tight tank and battered combat boots. Her long hair was down, dancing on the summer wind as she shoved thick black sunglasses over her forehead.

“That’s one sexy bitch,� Ali announced loudly, crooking her finger. “Come over here, baby. Give me a snog.�

Betsy grinned and moved forward quickly. She laughed, launched herself into Alison’s arms and planted a wet, noisy kiss on painted lips. Ali’s hands found purchase on Betsy’s barely-covered ass, squeezing tightly to hold her in place. Scott glanced at them, so used to the sight that he scarcely noticed.

Scott turned back to Storm, whom looked at Ali and Betsy with a roll of her eyes. She let Iceman yank her the rest of the way out of the car, hugging him tightly before Angel demanded his turn. She looked so damn beautiful.

Tight jeans that conformed to every blessed curve, a midriff-baring top that proudly proclaimed “Tie me up, I’ve been naughty�. Her long snowy hair had been cut recently, sitting on her head in a sassy, smooth cap. Her boots were just as battered as Ali’s, but hiked up her height several inches with a chunky heel.

“Logan?�

Jean was trying to get her boyfriend’s attention, her mouth pressed into a petulant pout. Scott looked to the man, not surprised to see he wasn’t staring at the two beautiful women kissing nor Storm’s exuberant hello to her friends. He gazed adoringly at that sexy black car.

“Jean, right now, you could strip naked and sit on his face and I doubt he’d notice.� Scott chuckled, indicating to the car. “He’s in love.�

The red head crossed her arms over her breasts and frowned. “It’s just a car.�

“Bite your tongue,� Scott and Logan spoke in unison, making her roll her eyes.

“Scottie-bear!�

As though she’d finally noticed him, Storm turned and bolted for him. Because she was his friend first and would ever be, he opened his arms to accept her embrace. She smelled of sandalwood and rain, fit into his arms just as he remembered. Damn, had she always been this gorgeous?

“You look good, kid,� he teased, kissing her forehead.

“Don’t I always?� She tossed back, kissing his cheek fondly.

“It’s the Scottie-bear!�

Ali finally unlatched herself from the woman she loved and bounced toward him. Ororo moved away, letting him embrace his other friend quickly.

“They call you “Scottie-bear�?� Logan was laughing. “Can I call you that?�

“I tried once,� Jean interjected as though wanting his attention back. “He threatened to optic-beam me.�

Logan snorted, covering it ineffectually with a cough.

“Who’s this?� Ali turned to Logan, sizing him up quickly. “Wow. Aren’t you Mr. Tall, Dark, and Can I have a spanking?� Psylocke slapped her lovingly on the shoulder in retaliation.

He arched a brow at her. Scott swore Jean snarled.

“You must be Wolverine,� Ororo interrupted before blood spilled. “I’m Storm and the one with a big mouth is Dazzler.�

“Hi,� Logan grunted, looking around both women to the car. “That yours or your boyfriend’s?�

Storm scowled, looking over her shoulder at the car she loved as a mother would a child. “Mine. All mine. And no, you can’t drive it.�

As though to drive her point home, she stuffed the keys into her pocket, giving him a sly wink.

Scott happened to be looking at Logan when his eyes focused on the woman. They widened slightly, his nostrils twitched, and something like interest sparked there. Ali shoving Betsy against the nearest pillar, ravishing the violet-haired telepath as though she were dying of thirst, thankfully distracted Jean. Jean blinked at them, never comfortable with her two friends as a couple.

So Logan’s casual perusal of Storm’s generous curves was something only Scott noticed. Storm met his gaze without faltering, without shame. She knew there was a lot to look at when someone first met her. Even without her cerulean eyes and snowy hair, the woman could knock a man blind at first sight.

Something told Scott this entire thing might not end well, judging from that look in Wolverine’s eyes and Jean’s well-known jealous streak.

At least, he mused, life at Mutant High was about to get more interesting.

Chapter Two: Love Sucks

I'll be damned if I let you know
That I still find it hard to sleep at night
Outside I'm smiling
Inside I'm crying
I'll just keep denying
Til I get over you
~Brian McKnight


Because Charles left just that morning for a conference in Washington, along with Henry McCoy, Ororo found herself less-than-busy as the afternoon wound down into night. Bobby and Warren had kitchen duty, so it was with heavy hearts that they left Ororo to unpack alone. Alison, of course, wanted time alone with her lover, so Ororo wandered into her bedroom to think.

She pulled out a battered CD player, thumbing through the case of music quickly. Once she found a compilation of songs popular in India, she slipped the disc into the player and cranked the volume. This was not a blatant attempt to irritate anymore, but rather a safety measure. Betsy and Alison did, after all, share a bedroom wall with Storm.

Singing to the tantalizing Hindi lyrics, Ororo heaved her suitcases onto the bed and unzipped the travel bags. Her hips swayed to the throbbing Telugu beats, her throat throbbing with the urge to sing. Waiting for the vocals to start, Storm swung her hips in time, moving to the dresser. She dumped several pairs of panties into the top drawer, closing it with her hip.

Taking on the high-pitch of the female singer, Ororo sang with the music, her voice lost in the pulsing beat she thought might crack the window. Her arms arched above her head, fingers darting in and out of the various formations she watched with such awe during the shows India had to offer.

Her last bastion, Ororo thought with a smile. Her hair swayed against her back as it fell from the pins holding it together. Everyone assumed she’d cut off ten years of growth. Were they insane? She kept the long white locks sleek to fall down her back. It whipped her several times when she turned in dance. The masculine vocal counterpoint wailed of a woman too beautiful to be real, while Ororo and her female counterpart insisted that even heavenly beings thrived on love.

Her feet stopped at a critical point in the song. Ororo remembered Ahmad’s gentle voice instructing her on the dance steps. She rocked her shoulders with flare that modeled shoulders bared by her metallic-hued tube top. Hips swung once more, straining the tight material of her jeans.

By the Goddess, after days of travel, movement felt wonderful. India. The best for last, Ororo thought with a grin. She’d spent more than eleven months within those sacred borders. Before, she and Alison – along with various friends – explored the color of Spain and Europe, the deserts and jungles of Africa, majestic South America. But for some reason, she saved the long trip through India for last.

Ororo fell in love with the country, the people. Something about India called to her, even more than her mother’s ancestral lands. Storm swayed slowly, the head-to-toe motion designed to drive any male in the vicinity to lust. Ororo threw her head back, moving with that throb of a beat until she felt herself break free.

The clouds clashed in the heavens. It was not fear or anger or pain that moved the skies this night, but pure, primal pleasure. Ororo bent backward while still on her feet, far enough that her long hair grazed the floor.

When she snapped back up, the thunder rolled and crashed. Ororo threw her hands toward the windows, thrusting them open with a gust of wind. Element rushed into the room, intoxicating the weather goddess as she never thought possible. Winds lifted her, but still she danced upon them. Through them. With them.

She continued her dance, remembering the Indian storytellers and wondering what they would make of this. She imagined herself clad in a silken sari of deep blue or white, letting the material catch and dance on the winds as she moved. Ororo’s heart swelled with pride and joy, even as the elements cried for her to immerse in them.

With the song still echoing in her head, lyrics of undying love and unbearable desire, she took two running steps and launched herself into the storm of her creation. Still dancing, she rode it into the skies without looking back.

~**~

“Whoa.�

When she vanished into the sky, Logan took a moment to process what he’d just seen. The girl had no idea that his favorite smoking spot was out on the balcony opposite hers. A wide courtyard, separated their rooms balcony to balcony. Logan often took a cigar out of doors, where the air was still and fresh.

Hearing the music brought his sharp eyes across that courtyard, where he’d never before seen a light shining. At first, he thought someone was sneaking around, until he realized that this must be the white-haired beauty’s bedroom.

Though he knew it was wrong, he leaned on the stone railing, watching her every move. She unpacked mid-dance, shocking him when her voice rose with the music. She sings, he thought, wondering why that pleased him. Storm’s voice was not unpleasant, rather the opposite. The clear, high sound was feminine and strong. He could not understand the words, but listened to the language of her body, the emotion in her tone. It had to be a song of lust and pain. Ha. The two could never be divided.

Her body mesmerized him, the sensual sway of it. A woman’s body, Logan thought, all curves and creamy skin. That caramel flesh shone in the light from her bedroom. He watched, fascinated, as the music worked her into a frenzy. He knew enough to realize she stirred the sudden storm he’d never smelled coming, that the music did this to her body and soul. Emotion swelled in his throat at the sight, the knowledge that something could move a person so deeply.

Tempest raged high above the ground, too far to cause any alarm or damage. Though this weather witch threw caution into the skies, she had enough control to hurt no one. How did she manage that? Logan stared into the clouds, sharp eyes spotting the white flash of her hair as she spun on the winds. How did anyone have that kind of control, even in the throes of absolute chaos?

Still leaning on the banister, Logan took the cigar from his mouth, exhaling a lungful of smoke into the twilight. Something about that woman could capture a man. Logan thought of the story Jean once read to him, of a bewitching goddess stranding some guy named Odysseus on her island for twenty years. At the time, listening to his girlfriend’s clear, girlish tone, Logan failed to grasp how any man could be so enslaved.

He understood now.

“Logan?�

Without turning, he sampled the air. “Out here, Jeannie.�

Her light feet made little noise on the carpeting, even when aided by her favorite high heels. He dropped his gaze to the manicured courtyard below. Whatever Jean wanted, Logan knew if she thought he was staring at another woman, he’d be in for a long night. So, he was the most dangerous man on the planet, that didn’t make him immune to screeching and tears.

Far below, he spotted Colossus and Shadowcat walking hand in hand through the courtyard. They had a favorite spot down there, an old wood bench beneath that sprawling willow. Often, the two might sit side by side, watching the weeping tree’s branches dance on the surface of the pond beneath it. Those two were sweet, Logan admitted only to himself. They never looked uncomfortable with one another, rather the opposite.

How did a person get that kind of peace?

She came up behind him, slipping slender arms about his waist and pressing her body into his back. A fleeting smile crossed his mouth before he could stop it. He leaned back to kiss her forehead, though traitorous senses noted the exact moment Storm returned to her bedroom across the courtyard.

Logan glanced toward her room, surprised to find her leaning on the railing of her balcony as he had done just moments before. Windswept hair and rumpled clothing did nothing to diminish her appearance. She tilted her head at him, studying him as an animal in the wild might consider a possible enemy or ally.

“Dinner’s ready,� Jean whispered, bringing him back to reality. He blinked. Storm vanished.

Forcing himself to concentrate on the girl he’d wanted since his arrival, Logan turned to her. Jean gifted him with a smile when he wrapped her in his arms, those sea green eyes lighting up with pleasure. He returned her smile with a rare grin, reaching up to touch one silken cheek. She was all right, he mused inwardly. Beautiful, intelligent, feminine. Something about Jean just touched him in a place he’d thought long dead.

“Hungry?� He asked, tugging her a little closer with the hand resting on her hip.

“A little,� she shrugged, leaning up to kiss him quickly.

Logan hummed a little with satisfaction. His red-haired woman tasted of cherries. “Me, too.�

A flush colored her cheeks when he rocked his hips into hers. “Logan. Everyone’s waiting.�

He walked her backward into the bedroom, tossing his cigar over the railing with an enticing grin upon his whiskered face.

“Everyone’ll wait.�

~**~

Home, sweet, home.

Ali jogged down the mansion’s main staircase, her bangle bracelets tinkling with the jostling movement. She pushed her long hair away from her eyes, bending at the first landing to finish tying her combat boot.

“How does she get dressed so fast?� Ali grumbled to herself. She grinned at the flash of memory. Betsy’s alabaster skin and come-hither eyes could haunt her if she got distracted.

Though she loved to travel, Alison felt the need to be home now. She’d been on the verge of leaving Stormy in India when her friend announced that she was homesick. Alison loved her friend, but months away from the woman she loved took their toll. No longer could the punky musician see being gone for so long. Ali simply wanted to be wherever Betsy was, no questions asked.

Ali stood again, straightening her tight t-shirt and smoothing her sex-rumpled hair. That girl had stamina, Ali decided. Nearly a year away built it up for them both, especially when those around you were getting laid. Dazzler glared as Jean strode by with her new man-toy, the roll in both sets of hips familiar as hell. No wonder Betsy jumped her! The sex almost oozed off of them.

Not that India was any better. Their first week in Goa, Storm hooked up with an Indian dancer named Ahmed. He traveled with them for some time, giving a guided tour on India’s wonders. That man could melt butter with his eyes and he definitely took Storm’s mind off of Cyclops, but Ali’s sexual frustration nearly drove her insane. It was particularly hard when the man ravished Storm in the back of a nightclub where Ali was playing. Lights gave the singer a full view.

Shaking her head, Ali thrust the thoughts from her mind. She was home now and tonight she could sleep in her own bed, with her woman wrapped in her arms. Could anything be better than that?

“Scottie-bear!�

When Scott came out of the elevator, Ali took a running leap. As expected, Scott turned his back, catching Alison’s smaller form in a bastardized version of a piggyback ride. Ali kissed her friend’s cheek noisily, letting him settle her on his back so he could walk them both into the dining area.

“How’s it going, gorgeous?� Scott asked, holding her thighs to prevent a fall.

“Betsy shagged me good and proper,� Ali announced proudly. “What’s up with you?�

Cyclops laughed and Ali rested her chin on his shoulder. “I’m ok, honey. Missed you guys.�

“Who doesn’t?’ Ali winked, kissed his cheek again. “You’d have loved India. ‘Ro fell off an elephant.�

Scott broke into hearty laughter, the sound reminding Alison of years gone by. Once, the fantastic four consisted of Ali, Betsy, ‘Ro, and Scott. The division between her best friends cut Alison to the quick. She never wanted to choose between them, but when Ororo decided she needed to get the hell out of Dodge, Ali crossed that invisible line in the proverbial sand to join her friend.

She never understood the reasons Scott cited for ending his relationship with Ororo. The ever-responsible leader of the X-Men needed someone as open and carefree as Storm. They balanced one another beautifully, up to the bitter end of their long love affair.

“Did you take pictures?�

“Well, duh. I’ll show you later.�

They entered the noisy dining area a beat later and Cyclops bent at the knees to let Alison down. Ali glanced about the room, inwardly sighing that all of her favorite people were home. Bobby and Warren commanded their helpers like generals, ordering which plates of food to be taken out and where they should be placed.

Betsy sat beside Ororo on one end of the table, the chair on her lover’s other side waiting for their blonde friend. The violet and snow-capped duo laughed together as though the world held no sadness. Through the mental link Psylocke kept open between herself and Dazzler, Ali understood that her beloved was filling Storm in on all they’d missed. Her thoughts, however, drifted continuously back to Alison and the conversation they finished only minutes ago.

Her heart aching with tenderness only Betsy brought out in her, Ali bounced over to the table. She dropped into the seat beside her girlfriend, squeezing her thigh gently. Betsy turned, her eyes lighting up and smile dazzling. Alison felt her knees weaken and thanked heaven she’d sat down.

Around the table, Ali found more of her mismatched family. Kitty and Pete were engrossed in conversation, about what Dazzler couldn’t tell. But Kitten smiled brightly at her friend, waving slightly before diving back into whatever Pete was telling her.

Down the table, Warren and Bobby finished placing the food and urged everyone to dig in. They sat beside Storm, each vying for her attention as the decibel level of the room jumped sharply. Alison shook her head at them, reaching for the mashed potatoes. Betsy and Alison loaded their plates absently, each scooping food onto one another’s dishes out of habit. Storm grinned at the two of them, but remained silent.

When Dazzler took up her fork, her keen hearing noted a single flaw in the melodic voices. One spot of “dead air�. Looking up for the unusual occurrence – which usually signaled an absence – Ali found herself staring straight at the man Scott introduced as Wolverine.

“What’s up, Wolf-boy?� she whispered to herself.

Watching him unobserved for several seconds, Ali noted two things. Though Jean was sitting beside him, they spoke not one word to each other. The redhead kept herself locked in talking with Pete and Kitty, all but ignoring the man everyone said she was sleeping with.

The second observation made her frown. He ate in relative silence, but the drop of his shoulders and tilt to his head did not make him seem unapproachable. Alison rather thought he looked comfortable amid the chaos and something told her that while he feigned disinterest, he listened to every word spoken around their disordered dinner table.

Those ebony eyes, however, were locked onto something. Curious beyond comprehension, Alison followed his eye line.

Why is he staring at Storm? Alison directed the question to her lover.

Betsy blinked, looking up from her plate before responding. I hadn’t noticed. ‘Tis a bit odd, innit?

Ali shoved a forkful of green beans into her mouth. He’s bangin’ Jean, isn’t he?

Yes, though why, I have no bloody idea.

Be nice, Ali admonished, winking at her lover.

Will I get a spanking? Betsy replied, batting her eyelashes innocently.

“Bet your sexy ass,� Ali answered verbally.

Storm leaned over then, laughing at something Bobby was telling her. Ali and Betsy yanked innocence onto their facial features immediately, but by the slight narrowing of Storm’s eyes, Ali knew she’d get grilled soon enough.

Their friend’s bright blue eyes shone with happiness, even when Scott made his presence known by laughing at some joke Jean had just told. Ali watched, pain twisting her heart, as Ororo’s eyes reflected momentary pain. Betsy and Alison reached over to take her hand, which squeezed them both before slipping away.

“So,� Bobby cut in seconds later. “Daz, you told me you might have news at dinner.�

Thoughts of Cyclops and Storm flew from her head. Betsy’s smile softened as she turned to her, green eyes locked with violet. Love spoke from those lilac eyes, mingled with hope and forever. Ali wanted to swoon like some romantic heroine, but restrained herself. They’d talked about it before the sojourn to India and upon Alison’s return solidified the plans.

“Go on, luv,� Betsy urged. Her delicate hand grasped Ali’s beneath the table. “Now’s as good as ever.�

“Sure bout that, babe? Might be too much for our first night home,� Alison teased.

Storm peered at them curiously, as did many of the others. Only Wolverine seemed unimpressed, for he kept right on eating.

“Now’s good,� Betsy nodded. “Go on, then.�

Alison leaned forward to kiss her lover’s lips quickly, then stood. She tapped her fork on the plate, as her soda can wouldn’t have given the desired effect. Conversation stopped completely, many sets of interested eyes looking up to Ali. Though her heart beat even faster, Alison squeezed her beloved’s hand and cleared her throat.

“Well, guys, Betsy and I have an announcement,� she addressed the group. “We’ve decided to get married.�

Storm clapped heartily while Cyclops whistled his appreciation. The others fell in, even the stoic Wolverine giving the two a nod of approval. Ali kissed her lover again, taking her seat as conversation centered on the two women intent on merging their lives as completely as they could.

“I can’t believe this!� Storm stood to hug each of her friends properly. She kissed their cheeks, tears of happiness shining from those blue eyes. “How wonderful. I wish you many years of joy and countless blessings.�

Others raised their cans or glasses with a round of “Hear, hear�. But Alison noticed Betsy glance at Jean, the joy on her face evaporating to anger.

“What was that, Jean?�

Conversation halted immediately at the absolute rage in Psylocke’s accented voice. Concerned, Alison shifted in her chair to face the redheaded telepath. Storm stood behind them like a sentinel, one hand on each of her friend’s shoulders.

“It’s not legal,� Jean said slowly, as though explaining something to a child. “You can’t get married.�

“Why not?� Storm demanded. “Legality means nothing if two people love one another.�

“I’m just saying,� Jean responded flippantly. “It’s a fake ceremony, it won’t mean anything.�

Ali tried to stand, but Storm shoved her back into the chair. Sound muted as Dazzler began to yank in the waves of it in the room, preparing to knock that little bitch back with a blast of pure light.

“Watch yourself, Jean,� Ororo interrupted.

But the mutant woman continued as though no one had heard her. “I mean, if we’re all set for fake ceremonies, why not have someone declare you Pope? Or president? Or Empress of the World?�

“Jean.� This from Wolverine. “Shut up.�

“You’re defending them!� Jean jumped to her feet so quickly her chair overturned. “Its ridiculous. Two women getting married? What’s the point? You can’t have kids or anything.�

“Jean Grey.� Storm interceded with thunder crashing behind her. “Perhaps if you had ever been in love, you might understand. Elizabeth and Alison love one another and to celebrate that, they want to have a simple ceremony. They will vow to care for one another through thick and thin, a commemoration of finding the person that completes you. How dare you tarnish that?�

Jean snorted, crossing her arms over her breasts. “Its disgusting. And who are you to lecture me? You loved Scott, but he couldn’t stand to be around you. Everyone knows its true. How could anyone love someone like you?�

“Ok, that’s it.� Ali snarled.

The blond singer shoved Storm’s hand off and vaulted over the table. She leapt for Jean, held back by Betsy and Scott. Storm, however, rounded the table easily with murder in her eyes. Wolverine got slowly to his feet, blocking the path between irate weather witch and now-terrified telepath.

“Move.� Storm demanded as Ali fought her captors.

“Can’t.� Wolverine said simply. “Let it go.�

“Move or so help me, I will move you.� Thunder banged the mansion so hard the very foundations shook.

“Cool off,� Wolverine insisted in that same quiet tone. “Jean, go upstairs.�

“But…�

“I said NOW!�

At Wolverine’s feral shout, Ali stopped fighting and Jean bolted from the room. Kitty excused herself to follow, with Colossus on her heels. Bobby and Warren came up beside Storm, soothing her with gentle hands on her shoulders. Storm noticed none of this, but glared directly at Wolverine.

“Keep that bigoted little bitch away from me,� Storm whispered hotly. “And while you’re at it, you keep your distance as well.�

Wolverine said nothing.

“I’m cool,� Ali told Scott and Betsy. Their grips relaxed, but Betsy’s fingers entwined with hers. Scott rubbed her back soothingly.

Storm and Wolverine continued to stare at one another wordlessly, though the room charged with electrical current. Ali felt her hair stand up on end and wished for the ability to move closer to her friend. Jean’s insulting remarks to Ali and Betsy were almost expected after all this time, but hitting Ororo below the belt with Scott seemed cruel even for her.

Finally, Storm stepped away from Wolverine. She skirted the table and slammed into the hall, her raging tempest following.

“Stormy?�

“Stay here, I’m going out.�

~**~

Near two in the morning found Scott sitting on the front porch. The others were long asleep, the house quiet around him. He kept red-tinged eyes on the drive, waiting for the telltale sight of Ororo’s beloved Charger.

Jean’s words still echoed in his ears. He wanted to yell at her himself, but when he’d gone to her bedroom, he heard Wolverine shouting through the door. Jean screeched back and he thought he heard a smack. Though Cyclops did not quite get along with Logan, he knew the man would never hit a woman in anger.

Seconds later, he heard a distinct growl. “Don’t you ever hit me again, little girl. I mean it.�

Cyclops retreated at that point. He talked briefly with his current girlfriend, then took up this silent vigil. How could Jean have said such a thing? God, he’d loved Ororo with his whole heart. He still woke up in the middle of the night reaching for her, wanting the comfort he’d once found in her arms. She’d always soothed him, stirred him, made him more of a man than he ever thought possible.

One stupid mistake broke that forever. He’d never find another woman that completed him as Storm had.

He flipped open the small velvet box in his hand, staring down at the simple, round sapphire on a platinum band he’d purchased more than a year ago. Storm’s speech about love and commitment sent him to his bedroom, where he’d hidden this ring at the end of their relationship. Did she ever find out? He wondered as the glint of the engagement band winked from the velvet. Did Ororo know how close he’d been to making her his wife?

The box snapped closed and he covered it with a fist. His hand came up to his mouth, eyes closing as a million memories of that beautiful goddess flipped through his mind. A tear slid from behind his visor, the pain of making such an enormous mistake coming back a hundredfold.

Her car eased into the drive seconds later, but Scott did not look up. Only after she parked and cut the engine did he bother to raise his head. She stared at him from behind the windshield, her face unguarded for precious seconds. The pain he found there mirrored his own, but he knew she would never let him back in again. He burned that bridge too long ago to remember how it could be repaired.

When she stepped out of the car, he stood. Ororo came closer, leaving a few meters of space between them, as though using it for a shield. The light summer breeze picked at her long snowy locks, bringing him the scent of her perfume. Her cocoa-colored hands wiggled into her pockets, those enormous blue eyes rising to meet the ruby-red of his visor.

“Why?�

One question she’d never asked. Cyclops felt his heart constrict.

“I wasn’t sure you loved me back.�

She looked away, her lids covering the tears in those beautiful eyes. Scott moved as though to touch her, but held himself back.

“That was your mistake,� Ororo said quietly before looking up once more.

“Why did you leave?�

“Because I had to.�

They lapsed back into silence, pain stretching between them. Once, he felt she was under his skin, closer than another human being could possibly get. Now, it was akin to shouting over a canyon, with no way to the other side.

“I’m sorry, Ororo.�

She smiled tightly, reaching across the scant place between them. When her hand found his, pried his fingers open, he was powerless to stop it. She took the box in her palm, flipped it open with her free hand. Ororo said nothing when she took the sapphire and platinum from its resting place.

“Ororo and Scott forever.� Her voice wavered as she read the inscription. “Well, not quite.�

His ex-girlfriend put the ring back into the box and closed it. She handed it back to him silently, those eyes piercing his behind the visor. Scott’s heart ached when Ororo tossed that glorious head of snowy hair, pulling her armor back up.

“I am over you, Scott. It took me a year, but I did it.�

He forced himself to smile. “I know. I just want you to be happy.�

Storm’s smile was sad, understanding. “And I you.�

The tall mutant moved past him and Scott turned to watch her go, much as he had on a similar night one year ago. He glanced at the ring box in his hand, then back up at her retreating back. He had to know one, final thing.

“What would you have said?�

She halted, his soft question drifting away on the summer wind. Scott held his breath, terrified of the answer his heart simply had to have.

“I would have said yes,� Ororo whispered without turning. “A thousand times, yes.�

With that, the girl who once captured his heart vanished into the house. Scott sat back on the porch and stared into the night. A moment later, the tears came freely and he set them loose. He’d never cried for her before, holding it back with stubborn pride. But tonight, knowing what he had given up, Scott simply let it come.

Neither Storm nor Cyclops saw the shadowy figure watching them from the rooftop, a cloud of cigar smoke swirling in the wind.

Chapter Three: Cyclone


Now there she go again
Ridin through the stormy weatha'
You betta button up
If you wanna go get her
Cause it is what it is
Everybody wanna love her
But when she pop it, boy
You better run for cover
~Baby Bash ft. T-Pain


There wasn’t anything worse than a night alone, especially when it did nothing to negate anger. Logan stomped through the mansion with the grace of a thundercloud, cigar puffing with irritation between his lips.

She was such a goddamn child, he thought heatedly. When he’d gone to Jean’s room after the disastrous evening meal, he found Kitty and Pete trying to calm the raging telepath down. One look at their resident Wolverine’s face sent both packing with lame excuses.

Jean immediately railed at him. How could he stand up for them? The entire idea of Betsy and Dazzler getting married was ridiculous. He hadn’t even defended her from Dazzler, stepping in only when Storm came around that table looking mad enough to kill. What had he done instead of smacking that white-haired bitch? He ordered his girlfriend out of the room.

For some reason, his dismissal really ticked her off. Logan told the fiery redhead that he had no problem with Betsy and Ali’s upcoming nuptials. Sure, it might be a little odd, but what about this school was perfectly normal? The way he saw it, he said patiently as he could, any two people could vow to spend their lives together. Man and woman. Man and Man. Woman and Woman. What difference could it make?

The very idea that Logan didn’t wholly support her sent Jean into further fury. She stomped tiny feet, balled up miniscule hands and cried like a teenager. Logan found himself repulsed by her childish mannerisms, combating her ranting with a simple.

“I thought they were your friends.�

His telepath girlfriend merely glared, declaring that Storm poisoned both Betsy and Alison against her, turning the odd little five-some into a clique of some sort. She felt pushed away, left all alone, and her tears began to tug at Logan’s heartstrings. But she continued to rail against the matrimonial ceremony, citing that it wasn’t real and would mean nothing.

Logan set his jaw, then, speaking with irritation in his tone. “You really are a little bigot, aren’t you?�

It was then that her tiny hand smacked him across the face. At first shocked, Logan nearly got slapped again, but recovered his reflexes in time to grab at her offending limb. For an instant, he contemplated hitting her back, shoving aside his violent tendencies barely in time. Instead, he growled at her and slammed out of the room, letting her screeching drift into the distance.

Taking refuge on the rooftop, Logan came across a scene that truly hit him in the heart. Watching Cyclops and Storm’s short exchange drove home the fact that Jean really didn’t know what she was talking about. Her below the belt dig at Storm was not only unnecessary, but completely off base.

What Logan saw on the front porch was something no cinematic genius could duplicate: pure, unfettered heartbreak. He knew immediately that Storm had deeply loved Cyclops and that the boy loved back just as fiercely. What drove them apart, he wondered. Just life? Or was it the fear of something so consuming?

He wished, for the first time in recalled memory, to feel something like that. How wonderful had they been together before they were torn apart? With such pain came great pleasure, he thought. Logan knew he might never tell them he witnessed that painful exchange, but it might forever change the way he looked at both parties involved. Here he’d thought Cyke just a stuck-up boy scout.

Shaking his head to clear it, the image of Storm’s destroyed face came to the forefront. Cyclops hadn’t seen it. For a brief moment, Logan caught the tremble of her chin, the tears pushed from those bright blue eyes. Could a woman feel that way for a man? Logan thought she looked like her world came down around her ears.

Thoughts of that snow-capped mutant haunted him through the night. He wondered what she’d seen in Cyclops. Did he make her laugh? Had he touched her in all those places she needed to be touched? Did he protect her? Support her? Was Cyke a real man when they were together?

Why, in the name of hell, was he thinking about her?

As if by some preordained cue, Logan moved past her bedroom in his absent stalking of the halls. He heard many voices coming through the open door and stopped without truly meaning to. Inside the cluttered bedroom sat Angel, Iceman, Dazzler, and Storm around a game board. They were laughing and chatting at high volume.

Storm, whose back faced the door, bore no hint of last night’s confrontation out of doors. He watched her bounce in excitement while Drake read something from a card.

“Ok, shut up!� Drake laughed. “O, this is for the gold. What actor portrayed the famous Doc Holliday in a 1993 Wyatt Earp-inspired film?�

She tossed that beautiful white hair over her shoulder and sat up. “Val Kilmer?�

“Correct!�

At once, Dazzler and Storm squealed, leaping to their feet. They immediately launched into a victory dance that consisted of shaking hips and something Drake once called the “Cabbage Patch�.

In unison they sang amid much giggling. “Go, ninja, go ninja, go! Go ninja, go ninja, GO!�

Logan fought to hide his smile and a chuckle as Storm and Dazzler swung their hips, continuing their mantra. He could not help but appreciate Storm’s generous curves and the cheerful lilt to her voice. For such a dead-serious mutant, it seemed strange that she gave in to a sillier side. Perhaps that was what Alison did for her.

“Logan.�

Rolling his eyes at the sudden intrusion, Logan swung his head around to find Jean standing behind him. Her green eyes sparkled with temper, arms crossed over her chest, one hip cocked to the side and her foot tapping impatiently.

He glanced back into the bedroom, noting that Storm heard the interruption as well. She faced him, her head tilted in curiosity. She leaned up on her bare toes to look behind him, then tossed her long hair over one shoulder. With determined steps, she came closer.

Caught between both women, Logan resisted the call of his survival instinct and remained in place. Storm reached the door as Jean cleared her throat. One dark hand shot out, grasping the doorknob. Logan made no move to explain himself, but winced when Storm slammed her bedroom door in his face so hard his ears would be ringing for hours.

“Logan.� Jean’s tone slipped to downright vicious. “What are you doing out here?�

“None of your goddamn business, Jean.� He shot back, not bothering to look over his shoulder at her again.

“I don’t want you around her,� the girl continued. “I mean it.�

Now, he did turn. Slowly and with control over his fighting instinct, Logan faced the pretty woman he’d shared a bed with for many months. She tilted her chin up in defiance, giving no thought to the fact that he could smell the fear coming off of her in waves.

“You ain’t in a place to be issuin’ me orders, girl.� He snarled quietly. “Better give me some distance.�

She faltered for only a moment. “I don’t like how you look at her.�

“Then stop followin’ me.� Logan brushed past her.

“We’re not done,� Jean called, moving to follow.

Logan whirled on her, crowding her into the wall with two menacing steps. “Yeah, we are. Back off, little girl. You’re tryin’ my patience.�

“B-But…�

“I’ve got trainin’ with Betsy,� he continued in a flat tone.

Jean stomped her foot again. “You can’t train with that…dy—woman! I don’t like it.�

He slammed both fists into the wall on either side of Jean’s head, leaving indentations in the polished wood sheath. Jean squeaked, even as Storm’s bedroom door popped open once more. The white-haired goddess rushed into the hall behind him without any hint of fear.

“What’s going on? Jean?� Her words were clipped, a sign that she meant business.

“Logan’s out of control!� Jean squealed, the sound shifting to a yelp when he growled.

“Wolverine,� Storm ordered calmly. “Let her go. She isn’t worth it.�

For some reason, he immediately followed that order, pushing away from Jean in a huff. The girl slipped away, rushing down the hall so that her sobbing echoed through the corridor. Storm shot a look to her friends, sending them right back into her bedroom with one icy glance.

When they were alone, Storm put her hands on slender, denim-clad hips. “What happened?�

Logan jerked one shoulder. “Thinks she can order me around.�

To his surprise, Storm smiled beautifully. “You’re not alone. She orders everyone around.�

“Not me,� he snapped without bite. “I don’t take orders.�

“Then you’ve got the wrong girlfriend.� She stated simply. “Can I ask you a personal question?�

Somewhat startled, Logan nodded. “Why not?�

He took a moment to study her features. The eyes captured anyone at first sight, that brilliant blue against dark chocolate skin. But her generous mouth and long nose gave her the look of royalty, the edge of her chin betrayed wildness and sensuality. He resisted the sudden, near-uncontrollable urge to yank her closer, to inhale the scent of cool rain and warm wind.

“Why Jean?� Storm questioned bluntly. “She seems a little immature and soft for a man like you.�

Intrigued by her observation, Logan stepped closer. He caught the leap in her heart rate and the inhalation of breath. “A man like what?�

She exposed her neck submissively, a signal that Logan could take as want and acceptance. He nearly grunted with the force it took to resist clamping his teeth down on that smooth, caramel flesh.

“You’re too untamed,� she continued in a husky tone. “Too wild and greedy for a girl like Jean.�

“That what you think?� He stepped closer still.

“Yes,� she smiled invitingly. “But then, I don’t like your girlfriend.�

“Ya don’t, huh?� He brushed his body close to hers and felt the ripple of her skin as she drew nearer.

“Perhaps you need a new one,� Storm breathed, leaning up on her toes to speak against his ear. “For a taken man, you’re acting very interested in me.�

“Darlin’,� Logan growled lowly, his eyes closing when she kissed his stubble-covered cheek. “I’d have to be six feet under to not be interested.�

He nearly startled when her tongue lapped at his earlobe. Blood roared in his veins at her kittenish, playful taunting.

“Maybe,� Storm whispered, kissing him again. “Or maybe you’re just not that committed to Jean.�

He knew it was wrong. Everything in his head screamed that playing with this sensual goddess would destroy whatever he had with Jean. Perhaps Jean’s recent behavior felt too close to the surface, but Storm’s beautiful torture seemed to negate anything he liked about his girlfriend. Storm was far too appealing, way too close, and just too damn gorgeous.

Fighting with himself, he turned his head until their mouths brushed intimately. Neither moved to deepen the gentle touch, though Logan felt the connection like a jolt of lightning.

“What’re you after, Storm?�

She smirked and pulled back, winking at him slyly. “Let’s just say, I’m interested as well.�

As though the conversation were done, she sauntered back toward her bedroom, hips rolling in an appetizing sway. Logan clenched his fists, wanting to drag her back to finish what she’d started. He knew, though, that if he did, the relationship he held with Jean would be over. Hell, just days ago he purred with contentment in the younger girl’s arms.

Why had everything changed so drastically?

“Oh, by the way,� Storm called over her shoulder. “We’re all heading out tonight. Well, all those over twenty-one. If you’d like to join us for a few beers and a round of pool, be ready by nine.�

Without waiting for a response, Storm reentered her bedroom and closed the door behind her. Logan fell back against the wall, staring at the door as though it held the answers to all of his questions. The clarity he’d mused over just three days ago flew out the window, leaving him more confused than the first time he came face to face with Charles Xavier.

Wolverine?

Sensing Betsy in his thoughts, Logan shoved all of them out, concentrating on the upcoming sparring match.

Yeah. I’m comin’.

~**~

Alison shook her head when Bobby and Warren quickly exited Storm’s bedroom. She faced her light haired friend, whom busied herself by picking up the overturned Trivial Pursuit game. When they heard the crash outside, coupled with Jean’s startled yelp, Ororo kicked the board out of the way in her haste to help the redhead.

Part of Dazzler knew it was instinctual, Storm had hero in her veins. She needed to help anyone in need and the instant Alison saw Wolverine’s face, she conceded that Jean needed it. That, however, didn’t mean Ali could resist being slightly hurt that Storm was so willing to hop to and render aid to such a bitch.

What surprised Alison the most was Storm’s taunting of the new guy. Granted, Dazzler understood the attraction. Since Scott, Ororo gravitated toward the untamed, the dangerous, someone to get her blood moving way too fast. But Alison knew Ororo rarely contemplated stealing a taken man, much less openly taunt one.

“Ok, O, what’s the deal?�

Storm, as though expecting her friend’s third degree, scarcely flinched. She placed everything into the wide box, covering it with the lid carefully. She tossed that brilliant white hair over her shoulder so that it fell down her back in a thick cape. Alison shook her head, hating that her best friend insisted on being so beautiful.

Dazzler once harbored a crush on her friend, but squashed it quickly. They had such a close relationship that romance and sex could only damage it. When Betsy came to the mansion, she immediately stole Alison’s heart. She acted like a balm on Alison’s bruised heart. Alison loved her life partner, but a part of her would always wonder how it might have been with Ororo.

“I have no idea.� Her friend admitted, standing to brush her jeans off. “I doubt anything will come of it. I know Wolverine’s breed. Wild and mean, loyal to a fault.�

Alison snorted. “What kinda loyalty can anyone have for that little cunt?�

Ororo shook her head, picking up the glasses and potato chip bags left by her friends. “She’s just used to doing things her way.�

“Ok, am I on crack or are you defending her?�

Storm winced, looking at her friend through a veil of thick lashes. “Perhaps I feel guilty for tempting her boyfriend.�

Feeling slightly guilty herself, Ali moved to Ororo, hugging her tightly. She rested her chin on her shoulder, squeezing her best friend tightly.

“Can’t wreck a happy home, sweetie.� Ali told her sagely. “Besides, you’re right on one thing. No way Jean’s good for him.�

Ororo chuckled, turning her head to kiss her friend’s cheek. “Very good point.�

“Just be careful,� Dazzler warned softly. “Don’t do this to bounce back.�

Storm tensed. “I am not thinking of Scott.�

“Don’t insult me by lying.� Dazzler moved back, grasping Storm by the shoulders to turn her. Once they faced one another, Ali cupped her cheeks, forcing her friend to meet her eyes.

“Seeing him again tore you up,� Dazzler whispered. “Don’t screw Jean’s boytoy to feel good about yourself.�

Ororo leaned forward so their foreheads touched intimately. “I am not thinking about Scott.�

Ali grinned. “But something about Growly Man has got your blood moving.�

“Oh, hell, yes,� Storm admitted on a chuckle.

Because her friend needed support, and she felt a little vindictive toward Jean anyway, Alison released Storm. She marched toward the closet, yanking out a beautiful dress they picked up in Calcutta. She studied the garment for a moment, tilting her head at it to imagine her dark-skinned friend wrapped in the orange and red fabric.

“Wear this tonight. Anyone with a pulse will be panting after you.�

Ororo chuckled, taking the hanger and holding the vibrant material up to her chest.

“Tonight may be more interesting than I imagined.�

~**~


Jean could not believe that anyone dared treat her as though she were made of air. All day she felt pushed aside. Unneeded. Unloved. Pissed off.

She kept her distance from Wolverine, but knew his whereabouts at all times. A quick psi-scan told her something happened between him and Storm when she ran from the corridor, though he kept most thoughts tucked too deep. If she scanned any further, he might detect her snooping and that was a whole other ball of wax.

In keeping with his wishes and the hissed warning Storm gave her at lunch, Jean kept to herself. She worked into a fury, noticing how everyone promptly forgot she existed when Storm and Dazzler showed up. There was talk of nothing but the upcoming wedding, something that immediately set Jean’s teeth on edge.

She didn’t really care if Betsy and Alison were together. Well, it did make her rather uncomfortable. A conservative upbringing had very little room for the so-called “alternate lifestyles�. Premarital sex tended to be as wild as Jean liked her lifestyles. Even her relationship with Wolverine, because he seemed so much older than she, got a little under her skin.

In fact, she’d been ready to end it until Storm arrived.

Most thought she was too vapid or flaky to notice, but she did. Logan’s eyes followed their wintry friend everywhere. He seemed to search for her if he caught her scent, which just irritated the hell out of possessive Jean. No matter what problems the relationship had, she won Wolverine fair and square. She intended to keep it that way.

So, as night fell on the mansion, she decided to go ahead and knock on his bedroom door. Male hormones being what they are, Jean assumed that a brash, open invitation for carnal pleasure would immediately sweeten her Wolverine’s mood. He did, after all, have an above average appetite for sex.

However, after five minutes of knocking, she realized he was not in his room. In fact, a psi-scan confirmed that he was no longer on the mansion’s grounds. Angry that he left without telling her or even leaving a message, she stomped back through the house, searching for anyone that might have an idea as to where he had gone.

She found Peter in the Rec Room, watching an old Western while cuddled up to Kitty Pryde. Unable to stomach a run around, she marched to the front of the screen, slammed her hands on her hips and glared for all she was worth.

“Where’s Wolverine?�

Kitty piped up, not bothering to censor herself. “He went out. With Storm and the others.�

“He did WHAT?!�

Her shout sent many of the others scurrying back into their rooms, ducking for cover from one of Jean’s infamous temper tantrums. She immediately sent out her heated, angry thought to Logan, only to find that he closed himself off sometime in the last hour, while she sat around brooding. Feeling slapped by his callous dismissal, Jean exited the Rec Room, heading up the stairs to her bedroom.

“I won’t have it,� Jean snarled into her silent bedroom. “He’s not getting away with this.�

~**~

When Ororo first came to New York ten years prior, it was with trepidation. She kept to herself as often as possible, uncomfortable as a goddess among mere mortals. Some months after her arrival, the realization sank in. The old man was correct. Though she controlled the weather and the villagers in Tanzania worshipped her as a goddess, here she was nothing.

Diminished.

She retreated inside for some time, wanting only to fade away. The trappings of idolatry once seduced the young mutant. Now, she felt embarrassed by the worship. Surrounded by powerful mutants dealt an enormous blow to her ego.

Jean could shred a person’s mind. Charles had the ability to kill all of humanity. Scott might punch a whole in the world, if left unprotected. Alison once absorbed the noise generated by five 747’s, creating a light visible from space.

So Ororo could make it rain. That seemed so…small when compared to the others.

Storm shifted from proud goddess to quiet, bookish student. Only after Alison offered her friendship did Ororo truly come back out of that uncomfortable shell. The blonde singer insisted they hit nightclubs before their seventeenth birthdays. Ororo discovered a love for music and dancing, aided by her darling friend.

Later, when their twosome became a threesome with the addition of Betsy, Ororo further blossomed. She took off into the night with her friends to parts of the world before only explored in books. Scott joined them not long after, pushing Ororo to expand her free-spirited nature so long denied. Now, she would not even entertain the idea of being shoved back into that damn box.

Tonight, she watched her friends dance, laughing all the while. Bobby and Warren each scored a scantily clad date within seconds. Both young women were plastered to her “boys�, twisting and grinding in something that her generation called dancing. To her pleasure, Ororo found some years ago that the sexual motions mimicked her tribe’s fevered gyrations. It was, she discovered, as natural to Storm as breathing.

Alison happened to be in the disc jockey’s booth, brushing up on her skills behind a mixer. Ororo knew her friend was gearing up to write another album and applauded her efforts. Of course, because Alison controlled the songs pumping through the superheated club, all of Ororo’s favorites were bound to make an appearance before the night ended.

Twisting her body amid the sweaty crowd, Ororo spotted violet-hued Betsy wrapped around a rather stoic Wolverine. No, she corrected, the man was smiling. Laughing at something Betsy whispered under the body thudding thumpa thumpa of music.

Who knew? Ororo joked to her friend through a convenient psychic link. Mr. Bad Ass knows how to laugh.

Betsy shot her an amused look over the teeming brood swaying together on the packed dance floor. Ororo contented herself with letting the music move through her, blood thumping with the impossibly loud bass. She smiled at Stetson-topped Wolverine, remembering her mad dash to find him a set of earplugs.

How was she to know that he had preternatural senses so sensitive that the music’s volume caused him pain?

He seemed comfortable enough now, draped over Betsy in a friendly way. Anyone might have seen them as a couple, but Ororo immediately noted there was no sexual tension between the mismatched pair. They were comfortable with one another, she decided. Comfort seemed to be the extent of the relationship.

Why she invited him on what should have been an exclusive outing still eluded Storm. She made sure to don a pair of form-fitting jeans in lieu of a dress and topped it with a cleavage-baring top that opened to her navel. Her bare arms sparkled with bicep-bracelets, wrists twinkling with twenty gold bangles apiece. Gold shoes hiked up her height so that when Wolverine met them at the car, she stood eye-to-eye with him.

She told herself over and over that dressing up was in no way connected to the mysterious Logan. Once or twice, she almost convinced herself of that, but the realization that she wanted to see him dashed all hope. For some reason, Ororo wanted that man to stop and stare at her.

Wish granted, Storm thought as Logan glanced in her direction again.

Ororo danced alone in the crowd, which tended to be her preference. She didn’t like to even appear committed to one dance partner, unless that partner resided in her exclusive circle of friends and family. She sent Wolverine a saucy smile, completely unashamed that she flirted with Jean’s man.

As the chords of her current favorite tune began to slide over the last song, Ororo screamed with delight. She tossed her arms in the air, paused, and when the male vocals began, she swung her hips in a sinuous slither. Mouthing the words to the song, Ororo lost herself in the music, letting everything fall away while she danced.

Though she tried to ignore it, Ororo felt Logan’s sizzling gaze on her, traveling the length of her body. Without opening her eyes, she turned, dipped, and moved exactly as the song demanded that she move.

~**~

Logan stopped dancing, letting Betsy get swept into the crowd. Though he had sealed his eardrums from damage with thick, flexible foam, he could still hear the undeniably sensual beat. A male sang through the heady thump of bass and the whine of a mixer. Ororo’s eyes were closed, but her mouth moved with the words.

Her arms wove high above her head, snowy hair slicked with sweat. Hips rotated in an open invitation for a man’s hands. She twisted, turned, dipped, rocked. Every twitch made Logan very aware that she could be the most devastatingly beautiful thing to walk the planet. She oozed sexuality and power, drawing Logan like a moth to flame.

He was moving toward her without realizing it. Ororo’s eyes remained closed until her hips brushed his. Logan remained motionless, halting her erotic dance so that her eyes locked onto his, her breath panting from supple lips. His hands reached up, grasping decorated wrists. To his eternal shock, he felt the pulse of what could only be her mutation deep below the skin. It thrummed in time with the music, bringing the experience of notes and vocals deeper than he could remember being touched.

Unfazed, Storm began to sway and twist once more, this time moving him with her. Not bothering to growl that this wasn’t his dance, Logan allowed her to move him. She drew him flush against him, swinging what had to be double-jointed hips against his jeans. Ororo crouched low, swaying with the music until he drew her up with a sharp tug.

“You’re gonna be trouble.� He growled, not sure how he knew she would hear him.

Her smile was immediate, tempting, naughty.

“You have no idea.�

Chapter Four: Mind Games

Well You know my friends they know your enemies
I’d pretend not to hear what they said to me
Cause I got off every time you got on to me
Was it wrong to go along with insanity?
I guess it wasn’t really right I guess it wasn’t meant to be
It didn’t matter what they said cause we were good in bed
I guess I stuck around so I could watch us fight for all the wrong reasons
~Nickelback

The Charger rolled up the long drive to Xavier’s School as dawn stained the horizon. Though the grounds were sleeping in the moments before daylight, the interior of the car was not silent.

Piled into the backseat were Drake, Worthington, and a very affectionate Betsy and Alison. The latter had not stopped groping one another since they left the nightclub, locked in an embrace that bordered on pornographic. Logan glanced at the duo in the rearview mirror before turning to the woman singing beside him.

Storm happened to be overly inebriated and after a near-fistfight handed over her beloved car’s keys to a very sober Wolverine. She only relinquished her keys after eliciting a sworn oath that Logan would not harm her precious vehicle. Once or twice during the forty-minute drive he’d toyed with the drunken goddess, pretending to lose control of her carefully restored car.

Logan thought if he’d attempted it again, Ororo might have shoved an actual lightning bolt up his ass. Needless to say, he’d refrained. The night had, after all, gone rather swimmingly. He didn’t really want to tempt fate.

It wasn’t often that Logan found himself genuinely having a great time. In fact, he could probably count on one hand the number of times nocturnal activities involving clothing actually brought him a measure of satisfaction. He didn’t really think a bunch of geeks could go out, consume copious amounts of alcohol and actually relax.

Storm and Dazzler did nothing halfway, it seemed. They group had effectively closed the club down. They’d stopped dancing around one in the morning, settling in a back booth with the liquor flowing to just talk. While Logan normally found that annoying and utterly boring, he discovered that the small group of mismatched mutants were bright, animated, and filled with humor. How did they manage to laugh so much? Didn’t their sides hurt?

As the Charger’s engine cut off, Logan stepped out of the car and pulled the front seat forward to allow Dazzler and Psylocke out. They tumbled against one another, pressed together intimately, giggling between wet kisses. Logan merely shook his head at them while Storm stumbled out of the car.

Drake and Worthington threw an arm over one another’s shoulders, tripping up the drive while singing some club hit usually preformed by a group of women. Storm had leaned against the car, giggling as she turned those devastating baby blues to the stars above.

Logan came around the still-warm hood, cocking his head to the side as he studied the intoxicated mutant. Her eyelids fluttered closed and had Logan been a second later she would have slipped right to the gravel beneath her feet. He scooped her up in his arms, glancing down at that beautiful face. She seemed to have finally succumbed to the booze, passing out right before his eyes.

Chuckling, Logan followed the others into the house, not surprised when Cyclops appeared from the Rec Room, one eyebrow arched over the edge of his ruby-lenses. He shooed the others off to bed, cracking a smile as Ali and Betsy stopped their fevered groping to kiss both of his cheeks. Logan thought there might have been a stain of blush on the young man’s face as he ushered them up the stairs behind the boys, whose singing had dropped to a loud whisper.

Shifting the slender beauty in his arms, Logan nodded a greeting. “Waiting up?�

“Hardly,� Scott replied with a slight smile. He leaned up to peer at Ororo as she snuggled into Wolverine’s arms.

“Just passed out,� Logan grunted.

“I know,� Scott shook his head, not losing the smile. Logan’s sharp eyes, however, caught the hint of regret. “She always ends up in this condition when she goes out with that group.�

“I’ll take her up,� Logan nodded. “No disasters while we were out?�

Scott looked up, meeting his eyes. There was warning there, nearly hidden by the glare of ruby red. “Depends on who you ask.�

The feral mutant did not miss the wealth of meaning in Scott’s words. Logan shifted Ororo again, holding her more comfortably in his arms. “Gotcha.�

Cyclops inclined his head once, in understanding and goodnight. Logan moved past him, listening as Ororo hummed sleepily in his arms. No matter how much he might want the dozing woman, with her seductive eyes and fragrant flesh, she would sleep alone tonight.

Logan needed time to understand things and to deal with Jean.

~**~

In the early morning light, a set of vivid violet eyes glanced over the two-dozen magazines spread over the breakfast table. A soft smile, unusual on the normally placid face gave away her sudden and complete contentment. Betsy never realized how one moment in time, one whispered question and a breathy answer could change the course of a person’s life.

Perhaps it was the warrior in her. At her core, Psylocke tended to be a morbidly poetic woman. She found beauty in battle, as though two foes wove around one another, trading blows in some ancient and primal dance. She had no fear of death before her life changed and had charged willingly into battle with the knowledge that dying was but part of Fate’s grand design.

But somewhere between meeting Dazzler and falling in love with the punky rocker, all that she once considered beautiful became dull. Betsy found beauty in music, in a heated glance across a crowded room, in the touch of one who loved without any agenda. In short, the warrior in Betsy suddenly became a fully rounded person, with every fear and triumph that came along with it.

At first, it had frightened the telepathic mutant. So fierce were her feelings for the blonde Alison that she shied away from further entanglement. That, of course, proved fruitless. In every way, Alison was her match. They completed one another as though God created them from a two-sided mold. Love frightened her no longer. Betsy learned over the years to channel that blossoming feeling inside into greater power, fiercer battle.

Now that Betsy had something – someone – to live for, every moment became precious.

And, at last, they would announce to the world that they were a unit. Betsy wanted to shout it to the heavens, no matter how she internalized most of her feelings. Everyone they cared about would see that they loved one another completely, that they were going to mesh their lives into one. How could anyone tarnish such a thing?

Jean’s objections were worthless. Betsy cared very little for the red-haired woman, having caught enough of her surface thoughts to consider her a spoiled, selfish little bigot that had no bearing on her life. Oh, Jean bothered the hell out of Alison, but Betsy could scarcely drum up enough emotion for the mutant to even notice her objections.

Of course, if there was one thing Jean hated most in the world, it was to be completely ignored.

Betsy flipped the pages of her magazine, eyes darting over a classic and simple design for a wedding gown. Alison had already stipulated that she wanted to wear a feminine pantsuit, but that Betsy should find the gown of her dreams. In keeping with her future wife’s wishes, Psylocke was on a mission to locate the perfect dress, something that would make Ali’s eyes go wide and perhaps even collect a few rare tears.

“Good morning, Storm.�

Without looking up, Betsy greeted her friend as she entered the kitchen. A psi-link kept her in constant contact with those she kept close to her heart. At any given time, she knew exactly where her friends were and if they were in danger or not.

“Morning, gorgeous. Ali still sleeping it off?� Storm moved to the coffee pot, where her mug already waited. Betsy and Storm were early risers and typically had several moments alone in the kitchen before the others set upon them.

“I managed to get some aspirin and water into her before she passed out.� Betsy smiled, looking up from a photograph of simple, sweet bridesmaid gowns. “Wolverine tuck you in all right, luv?�

Storm chuckled as she poured fresh coffee, glancing over her shoulder with a sassy waggle of snowy brows. “He even took my shoes off. Wasn’t that nice of him?�

Betsy looked back at her magazine, biting her lip in a futile attempt to hide a smirk. Thought she might have seemed completely distracted by her fiancée during the previous evening, Betsy caught all manner of wayward thoughts sent out by Ororo and Logan during their dance and heated debates over Molson versus Corona.

Though she was not one to interfere in one’s personal lives, Betsy knew what a match Logan and Ororo would make. They were such similar creatures. Wild, brave, free unlike any others. In her heart, Betsy knew something would brew between them; a flame neither had the strength to snuff out, no matter how they tried. Psylocke could read people, even without the aid of her mental abilities.

Wolverine and Storm would be interesting to watch.

“He does things like that,� Betsy offered carefully.

“Like what?� Storm asked, coming around the granite-topped island to sit across from her. “What are you doing?�

Betsy handed over the magazine, pointing to a soft, satin dress of pale yellow. “How’s this for a bridesmaid gown?�

Ororo set her coffee cup down, careful to not damage any of the other thick bridal magazines. Her bright eyes lit up when she realized what she was looking at and the rare, soft look crept over her lovely face.

“Simple,� Ororo approved. “Tasteful and it won’t take attention from the brides.�

Excited, Betsy took the magazine back and gently pulled the page out. She set it aside with a fond look, thinking she had just found the dress for Ororo and Kitty pending Alison’s approval.

“What did you mean about Wolverine?� Ororo continued, sipping at her coffee.

Betsy looked up, spying Ororo flipping idly through a magazine. She didn’t want to say anything overt, that might peg her as encouragement for her friend to break up Wolverine’s tempestuous relationship with Jean. No matter how ill suited the couple was, Betsy would not be party to intentional interference.

“Don’t tell him I said anything, but he’s a rather nice bloke.� Betsy replied, spying a white gown that caught her fancy. “He’d kill me for saying it, but beneath the growls and temper, the man has a good heart.�

“Mmm,� Ororo hummed noncommittally. “And yet he takes Jean into his bed. I wonder why that is.�

Shrugging one shoulder, Betsy sighed. “I warned him about her, he seemed unconcerned.�

“Unconcerned?� Ororo questioned, her eyes meeting Betsy’s as both women looked up from their respective photo spreads.

Choosing her words carefully, Betsy spoke in a soft tone. “Jean had her hooks in him the second he walked through the door. It seemed harmless at first, but she has become very possessive. Logan dislikes such treatment and yet…�

“He has not walked away.� Ororo offered.

Betsy felt her psyche tingle and knew Alison was waking up. “I just think it’s been a long time since anyone touched him without causing pain. Logan is a tough man, but at his core he just wants to be loved. I think she may be using that against him.�

For several moments, Ororo regarded her friend silently, those sapphire eyes veiled from emotion. Betsy knew better than to reach out with her mind. Ororo would only rebuff the intrusion in this moment. Something was happening inside that Storm did not want to be common knowledge. Betsy respected that.

“Why are you telling me this?�

“Honestly, luv, I don’t know. Something just tells me you need to know.�

Before the conversation could continue, a warm, familiar voice whispered kindly through both minds.

X-Men, you are needed in the War Room.

~**~

Cyclops zipped up his uniform and tugged at the collar. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous about the mission. It was not one he was uncomfortable with. A young mutant seemed in need of guidance and the Professor wanted to reach him before Magneto’s Brotherhood could do so. Really, the X-Men had done this sort of thing several times over the last years.

But for the first time in a year, Storm would be riding co-pilot on this mission. Cyclops usually had Betsy in that seat since Storm and Dazzler dashed off into the world. Storm, however, had insisted on suiting up, saying it was too long since she’d pulled on her X-Men leathers.

Because the mission did not seem overly dangerous, it would only be Cyclops and Storm. The others were on standby, of course, ready to assist them if need be. Scott did not think it would be necessary. After all, he and Storm were veteran X-Men. They had been in several tough situations that seemed doomed, only to come out alive. He could do this.

The Professor gave them the coordinates for the Blackbird, blessing them with his quiet, mental voice as Scott and Ororo powered up the super-advanced jet that would take them to Boston. He settled beside her in the pilot’s seat, glancing at the woman beside him.

Storm had pulled her long, white hair into a loose ponytail, keeping it out of her face while she “worked�. Deep circles under her eyes were likely from the late night of drinking and dancing, but Scott chose to not mention these things.

“We should hit Boston in just a little while,� Ororo said as she monitored their flight from her seat. “It’s a shame you couldn’t come out with us last night.�

Not surprised by the sudden change of topic, Scott gave his former love a small, sheepish smile. He did not want to tell her that he’d declined because Emma wanted to talk to him. Scott swore that woman could sniff out anything, even if he had not done anything wrong. Still, she’d sent him a mental slap for even entertaining the idea of heading out with his former girlfriend. A wave of guilt had come over him, sending Scott into his room early to phone his current significant other.

She’d been upset, her pretty little pout nearly audible as they chatted. Scott hated making her pout, he always felt so strange. Really, if Emma had not come onto the scene when she did, he might have gone searching for Ororo, begged her to take him back.

Scott couldn’t have that now, could he? Wasn’t that woman bad for his leadership role amongst the X-Men?

He shook his head to clear it. Those odd thoughts had been gone for some time, but they seemed to be reemerging as of late.

“She didn’t like it, I take it?�

Guilt came back, this time of a different sort. Scott glanced at his co-pilot, aware that she was not looking at him as a blush stained his cheeks. He wasn’t ashamed, exactly, of his relationship, but he didn’t want to rub Ororo’s nose in it. In fact, Scott wanted to hide it as long as possible, if only to keep her from being hurt.

“I’m sorry.�

“For what?� Ororo leaned over the control panel, frowning at a sensor reading. “You’re allowed to date, Cyclops.�

“I just don’t want you to think…what I mean is, I don’t…hell.� Scott stammered, turning his eyes to the windshield and wanting to blast it into a million shards.

He’d known having Storm back would be difficult, painful, especially after the late night admissions only days before. This, however, seemed cruel and unusual. He had loved Ororo once and would carry a tiny torch for her until his dying day. At times, all the reasons for ending their long affair seemed so petty and silly…but right now they were real and true.

No matter how he felt, he could not simply dismiss Emma from his thoughts and heart. It wasn’t fair to her. Ororo was, in fact, the past; Emma the future.

“I know what you’re saying,� Ororo interrupted. She did not turn to him, but continued monitoring things that did not really need to be monitored at the moment. “Does she make you happy?�

Ashamed and relieved that Storm was not bursting into tears or clouding up the weather, Cyclops nodded. For some reason, the gesture felt forced, as did the words to follow.

“Yeah. She does.�

“Then I wish you both happiness.� Storm replied, finally turning to look at him. Scott did not meet her eyes, but stared resolutely out of the windshield.

They said nothing more all the way to Boston.

~**~

Afternoon found Logan outside the boathouse, looking over the lumber he’d procured just that morning. Betsy had a simple request for him. She asked that he build the arbor under which Alison and herself would have their wedding ceremony. Logan immediately agreed, wanting to give Betsy a sort of wedding gift that would mean something. He intended to create a small bit of beauty for the pair, something they could one day take with them when they made a home together.

Having selected fine cherry for the piece, Logan inspected the wood carefully for flaws. He enjoyed projects that required only his hands and a smattering of tools to complete. When it came to electronics, he tended to get confused and frustrated. But wood sculpting, building, it all seemed as natural as breath.

Logan had not seen Jean since the previous day, which should have worried him. Instead, he let himself be relieved that he would not have to put up with her childish tantrums at the moment. Last night left him itchy and unsure – a confrontation was the last thing he needed right now. If he could just get his hands working, let his mind slip into that near-meditation state he always got when creating something, his feral side might be contented for now.

No sleep found him, even as he’d lay in his bed with dawn creeping over the mansion grounds. Once he’d laid Ororo in her bed, removed her shoes and covered the woman in her downy coverlet, she consumed Logan’s thoughts. He could hear the silvery laughter; smell her scent clinging to his clothing.

Attraction and lust were easy for Logan to deal with. This time, however, something bothered him. Ororo had the ability to wiggle completely under his skin. He knew that. Could he stop it? Logan feared there might be no escape from her charms. Uncomfortable with such loss of control, Wolverine thought distance to be the key, at least for now. There seemed too much in his mind to make sense of anything.

Jean stood by him as his girl, but Ororo threatened to shake that tentative reality. Jean’s childish innocence, which Logan once found endearing, paled in comparison to the womanly wiles of Storm.

Contrary to popular belief, Logan was not a man to “play�. In keeping with his animalistic nature, Wolverine tended to be a one-woman man. He preferred the easy comfort of having the same woman in his bed, of knowing her body intimately and sharing his with that person. In truth, Jean was the only woman to get that far. She made Logan enjoy the continuity in monogamy.

So it was with great displeasure that Storm upset that balance. But how could he be angry with her? She’d done nothing, really, to start his sudden obsession. Sure, she taunted and teased but as he’d witnessed the night before that was simply in her nature. Vivacious and open, Ororo’s easy flirtations were merely an extension of affection. Logan did not believe she was trying to inflame him.

Well…maybe a little.

A scent on the breeze caught Logan’s attention and made his back stiffen in preparation for battle. He looked up as her footfalls fell closer, spying the lean silhouette against the afternoon sunlight. A banner of fire red caught on the wind, making the beautiful creature seem too bright, too lovely for the eyes of a mere mortal.

Am I losin’ my damn mind?

“Logan.� Jean said quietly as she approached. “Hi.�

He grunted, nodded a greeting.

“What are you working on?� Her question was careful, interested. Logan caught her scent again and his knees went weak.

Turnin’ into a sap, bub.

“An arbor.� Logan replied gruffly. “For Bets and Daz’s wedding.�

He caught the flash of irritation in her eyes before Jean managed to pull a somewhat sincere smile to her succulent mouth. “That’s sweet of you.�

Part of him knew he was being placated, but Logan yearned to have Jean back in his arms. She was, after all, the most important thing in his life. He needed her. How could pure lust for a seductress stand up to that? Storm wasn’t even all that pretty. She’d lost Scooter, hadn’t she? What kind of woman screwed that up?

Logan wasn’t even sure he liked her.

It was then that he realized something wasn’t right. Logan stood up, grasping his forehead with one hand as he tried to break eye contact with Jean. Her emerald gaze sparkled, making it impossible to look…

“Stop it.� Logan commanded. “Jean. Stop.�

“I can’t.� She whispered. Her voice was in his head, in his heart. “I won’t.�

“Jean,� Logan tried once more as darkness took him. “Stop. Please.�

“No.�

~**~

When Alison made her way out to the boathouse after dinner, she thought something seemed…off. Wolverine had been rather excited, according to Betsy, about working on the arbor for their wedding. In fact, most of the mansion was in a tizzy about the upcoming nuptials.

They’d never had a wedding on the grounds, after all. The Professor immediately agreed to perform the ceremony almost before Alison finished asking the question. Ororo, of course, would be matron of honor and Betsy insisted that Warren and Bobby stand as groomsmen. Really, Alison thought it would be a lovely little ceremony.

Legality could kiss her ass.

Still, she intended to whisk her bride up to Toronto on their honeymoon and get a legal ceremony preformed there. Even if the US didn’t recognize the union, at least they would know it was real.

Alison came closer to the boathouse, sticking her hands into the pockets of her faded jeans. She loved Betsy so much it almost hurt. She’d never believed in soul mates or true love or even romantic love at all until Betsy Braddock stole her heart away. Alison couldn’t even fathom being without that woman. Now they’d tell everyone in the world that they were partners, come hell or high water.

Spying the stacks of wood and abandoned tools, Alison glanced around the immediate area. The fact that everything was laid out and Wolverine was nowhere to be found seemed…weird. He didn’t seem like the type to just leave his own things out on the lawn where any idiot – namely Iceman – could get hold of them.

A glance told Ali that the boathouse door was open. Maybe he’d just gone in to get a drink from the ever-stocked icebox inside. She’d pop in and thank him for helping out with the wedding. Since last night, when she saw that Logan and Betsy seemed to have a close friendship, Ali wanted to get to know him better. It was, after all, part of being married.

But when Alison poked her head into the open door, she saw something quite strange indeed. Wolverine and Jean, whom everyone said were on the outs, lay in a tangled mass of limbs and rumpled clothing. Logan had a look upon his face that had Alison immediately summoning her lover via their mental link.

Babe?

Alison? What’s wrong?

Something isn’t right. Wolverine’s with Jean.

Arguing?

Screwing. Alison pulled her head back out of the boathouse and quickly began trekking back toward the mansion. And he’s looking at her like she hung the stars and moon all for him.

Betsy’s reaction was typical of the methodical woman. She was silent for several moments, though Alison could detect the hints of concern and anger through their link.

We need to see Charles. Now.

Chapter Five: Holy Matrimony

One more kiss could be the best thing
But one more lie could be the worst
And all these thoughts are never resting
And you're not something I deserve
In my head there's only you now
This world falls on me
In this world there's real and make believe
And this seems real to me
~3 Doors Down



Betsy did not wait for Alison to run back from the boathouse. One quick scan of the link she always kept open for Logan confirmed her worst fears. Oh, Jean was subtle, but how could Psylocke have missed the signs? They were all there, in black and white, waiting to be discovered.

She rushed through the halls, scattering Bobby and Warren from their indoor hockey game as she bolted for the stairs two at a time. Summoning Charles through the X-Men’s own mental link proved impossible, which meant he was either locked in with Cerebro or in deep meditation.

In either case, Betsy hated interrupting him – especially since she knew a telepath’s need to order the mind properly – but this absolutely could not wait.

“Charles?�

Betsy pushed the office door open without warning, without knocking. Inside the expansive room where the Professor dealt with school business and held his classes lay his work materials and books, though the man himself was no where to be found.

“Damn it.� Betsy swore, smacking her pale hand against the cool wood of his office door. She took off once more, this time descending the stairs two at a time in her haste to find the elevator that would take her to the lower levels.

“Hold it!� Betsy demanded as she skidded to a stop. Alison waited inside the elevator, her emerald eyes wild and hair mussed from the swift run back from the boathouse.

“Babe. What’s going on?� Ali pressed as Betsy leapt into the elevator and slammed her hand against the button to take them down.

“I am absolutely stupid!� Betsy exploded. It was not in her nature to reveal feelings or intuition so readily, but Ali was different and the situation bad. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. She must have got to him early, before he knew much about telepaths. She’s clever, the cheeky bitch. God in heaven, she fooled me as well.�

Ali’s eyes remained wild, though confusion now entered the mix. “All right, baby, I can’t understand you when you’re hysterical. Calm down, tell me what’s going on.�

But the elevator doors opened before Alison even finished her sentence and Betsy squeezed out of the metal contraption as though all the demons of hell were snapping at her heels.

“Cerebro.� Betsy decided, running through the halls so swiftly her sneakers squeaked on the polished tile floors. “We have to tell him. He’s the only one that can break the connection.�

“Connection?� Her blonde fiancée questioned, struggling to keep up. Because of their mental link, Psylocke could almost hear her mind suddenly gasp as the realization hit her.

“That cold bitch is manipulating him?! No. Fucking. Way.�

Only a heartbeat before Psylocke reached Cerebro, she felt an unimaginable pain rip through her mind. She buckled without pause, both hands grasping her temples to silence the screams echoing through her tortured psyche. Tears poured unchecked down flushed cheeks as her body seized with the influx of pain.

Distantly, she heard Alison scream for her, but Betsy’s spinning mind could take no more. Darkness took her fiercely and silence rang as she drifted away from consciousness.

~**~

“What happened?�

Alison held Psylocke in her arms, her throat hoarse from screaming for help. Betsy had turned ashen from what her lover could only term an attack on her telepathic mind. Finally, aid came in the form of Angel and Iceman, both summoned as if by God to the lower levels.

“I don’t know.� Ali insisted, still cradling her comatose companion. “We were trying to find the Professor and all of the sudden she just collapsed. How did you guys hear me?�

“We didn’t,� Bobby replied. He kneeled beside Psylocke, grasping one hand. “The Professor was screaming in our heads. We came as fast as we could.�

“Screaming? What?� Dazzler immediately felt rage begin to overcome her concern. If Jean had attacked the other resident telepaths to keep them from uncovering her disgusting secret, Alison was going to rip her apart.

Cerebro’s doors hissed open a moment later, the hydraulic pumps releasing the locks that protected Charles from fatal interruption during his sessions. All three conscious mutants turned, expecting immediate answers as the motorized wheelchair approached. Dazzler’s head ached from the emotions swirling through it. Everything to do with Jean had to be brought to the house’s attention. What she was doing was deplorable and dangerous.

Looking into the haggard face of the Professor, though, Ali felt her chest tighten with anxiety. They had all known him long enough to read thoughts and emotions in those cerulean eyes. Charles was ever open to his mismatched family, letting them see deep into his soul. Alison typically found warmth, love, and even a hint of amusement staring back at her from those expressive eyes. But today something was horribly amiss. Charles kept his eyes expressionless, his face a blank mask that seemed alien on his usually handsome features.

Wordlessly, Charles pulled his wheelchair up beside Dazzler and the lifeless Psylocke. One pale hand reached down, lightly touching her violet-capped head. Almost immediately Betsy sat up, those bottomless eyes blinking as she woke. Alison gripped her delicate fingers more tightly, keeping her beloved on her lap. The blonde mutant did not know what had happened, but she wasn’t taking any chances with the woman she loved.

“Professor?� Betsy asked softly. Eyes locked, seemingly oblivious to the other X-Men waiting for an explanation with bated breath. “Is it true?�

Charles nodded once, sharply, as if the motion caused him great pain. “Cyclops and Storm were due to check in with me an hour ago. I have heard nothing from them. When I tried to establish a mental link with them, Scott let down his mental barriers.�

“What’s that mean?� Iceman demanded, his hands clenched into icy fists. “Where are they?�

“They landed in Boston two hours ago, but I fear they were intercepted. I could not detect what came after them or where they have been taken,� Charles reported almost woodenly. “When Scott broke through, he filtered in every pain and fear he was experiencing. Because Betsy was trying to contact me at the same moment, she intercepted the ‘message’.�

“Someone is hurting them.� Psylocke continued, struggling to stand. Ali watched her carefully, but there was not even a sway to her willowy stature. “I got the impression that Storm is…incapacitated.�

“What?� Angel whispered, his innocent eyes widening with fear. “What does that mean?�

“I do not know for certain.� Charles admitted stiffly. “Psylocke you will lead the mission. All of you, suit up. I fear we have little time to find Storm and Cyclops.�

Wordlessly, the four X-Men turned to prepare for their mission.

No one thought to contact Wolverine and Jean.

~**~

In the boathouse, Wolverine found himself wrapped around the slender, fragrant body of his girlfriend. He smiled dreamily, holding her more closely as dusk descended over the Great Lawn. No one had bothered them, and so they lost themselves to the fulfillment of lust and budding love.

Why had he been so thickheaded? Of course he loved Jeannie. Wasn’t she the most beautiful and precious thing in the world? Logan grunted happily, keeping Jean cradled to his chest as though he never wanted to let go. Wasn’t that the truth? Why would anyone want to let go of her?

He saw the smile on Jean’s face and nuzzled the sensual curve between shoulder and throat playfully. There were no more lies here. She loved him wholly, completely, filling up the emptiness he’d been plagued with for fifteen years. Well, Logan need search no more. Everything he wanted was right here on the sitting room floor of an old boathouse.

Though something in the back of his mind was screaming, Logan paid it no mind. Something distracted him from those petty, stupid thoughts. No, he needn’t bother with whatever his mind was telling him right now. What mattered above everything else was Jean and holding her close. They could be like this forever. Perhaps she would even marry him. He could rebuild the boathouse and create a home for them. Perhaps they would have children. Wouldn’t Jean’s children be beautiful?

The warm, sated feeling in his chest grew exponentially. He liked the thought of living in this little house, surrounded by a crew of red haired babies. Of course, it was only logical! When a man and woman loved one another this much, it seemed proper to take the necessary steps. Oh, yes.

“Marry me.�

His soft, guttural whisper made the precious creature in his arms shiver. She turned to him, those deep emerald eyes blinked slowly, glittering with joyous tears.

“When?�

Logan’s heart might well have exploded. She wanted to marry him! But he grunted, a sharp pain in the back of his mind sending a chill through the chest made warm by Jean’s tender love. Logan shook his head to clear it. Because his eyes were closed he did not see Jean’s determined look nor did he feel the gentle block in his mind.

All he knew was the pain stopped. Logan took Jean back into his arms, settling down without thinking of anything but her.

“Now.�

~**~

Boston, Massachusetts

A thick blanket of fog covered their landing. Thunder concealed the roar of the Blackbird’s engine. If anyone questioned the odd weather, they could not have guessed that a woman hundreds of feet above the ground caused the sudden summer storm. She reveled in the call of it, the song only she could hear dancing on frantic winds. Every time she used her mutation, resisting the urge to go out and revel in it took her breath away. Keeping her mind on the controls at her fingertips, Storm promised herself she would dash off into the tempest as soon as their mission completed.

“Ready?�

Turning her head slightly, Ororo nodded quickly. She unbuckled the harness across her chest that would protect her in case of a crash. Cyclops stood at the hatch ready to depart their jet. They’d located an empty field behind the house they needed to enter. Somewhere in the vicinity a young mutant was exploding on an irregular basis. Storm and Cyclops, upon hearing this, doubled the body armor beneath their X-Men uniforms.

Better safe than dead. Cyclops had smiled. Storm couldn’t help but chuckle. He tried so hard to keep their conversation light, the topics varied. Neither of them wanted another emotionally draining discussion on mistakes, regrets, and times long gone by. Storm didn’t think her heart could take it anymore. Cyclops had made the decision; one Scott had to live with.

When they were prepared, Cyclops opened the hatch and set his handsome face into a mask of determination. Storm exhaled slowly, soothingly, letting the call of her mutation soothe the agitation set in by several hours alone with the man she’d wanted to marry only a year ago.

“Get back!�

Startled by the sudden shout, Ororo instinctively jumped into the air. Winds heeded her immediate call, lifting her to relative safety. Confused and startled, Storm looked to the ground, finding the red-hot optic beams slicing through the fog surrounding a large Victorian where they expected to find the object of their mission. Instead, as Storm gained her bearings, she noted they were completely surrounded.

“Cyclops!� Storm shouted over the howling winds at her command, letting him roll onto a current before she whisked him over the jet to safety.

Her comm. link crackled as she flattened her body and flew toward her companion. Landing delicately beside him, Ororo checked her friend over for signs of injury. When she found none, she winced at the sounds of bullets tearing into the Blackbird.

“Who is it?� Storm demanded. “The last I checked, Magneto’s Brotherhood found human weaponry useless.�

“Its not Magneto.� Cyclops agreed. “Looks like a military faction. Maybe Weapon X.�

Confused, Storm lifted her arms, making white-hot lightning dance on the opposite side of the jet, ensuring that their attackers had more to think about than their precise location. “Weapon X?�

“Long story.� Cyclops explained. “Wolverine used to work for them. Apparently they experiment on mutants, then use them as assassins and the like.�

“Wonderful,� Storm grumbled. “Do you think we surprised them?�

“I think it was a trap.� Cyclops glanced at her, his eyes narrowed behind the ruby-quartz of his visor. “Someone knew we were coming and managed to hoodwink the professor.�

“This might be frisky.� Storm offered a small smile. “We need to get back into the jet. I’ll go high and distract them. Get the jet to take off and come get me.�

Cyclops grasped Storm by the bicep before she could take to the air, a muscle in his jaw jumping. Concern, fear, everything he wasn’t saying reflected in miniscule changes of his facial expression. With a pang centered near her heart, Storm realized that she could still read those changes, no matter how she tried to forget them.

“You can’t use yourself as bait.�

Before Storm could respond, Cyclops’ entire body went stiff. His grip on her arm tightened until Ororo knew she would have bruises. Her face must have betrayed the confusion, for Cyclops smiled tightly.

“Go. Go home.� His voice was quiet, filled with pain even as their attackers opened fire again. “�Ro, run.�

“Scott?� Ororo braced herself as he collapsed. One hand went to his chest, trying to hold his heavy body upright. The feel of something warm and sticky against the leather of his uniform betrayed her worst fear. “Scott! No!�

A hole the size of her thumb pumped red life-blood out of Scott’s chest. Their attackers had used some sort of armor-piercing rounds that sliced through the jet and her companion’s armor while scarcely making a sound. Ororo screamed and the heavens snapped into turmoil above. The whirl and roar of a cyclone pushed even the jet away as Storm cradled Cyclops’ limp body against her chest. She tried in vain to stop the bleeding while the elements raged in her name.

The static electricity swirling the duo cut off all contact between the X-Men and their mentor. Ororo sat in the eye of her tornado with Scott in her arms and wept.

~**~

He awoke with a groan of pain. Everything in his body hurt. Cold seemed to seep into his very bones, the sort of cold no one can recover from. His eyes opened painfully, gritty from whatever torture his body had endured. A bandage had been taped to his chest, and when he touched the stained cloth he found that someone had stitched together the bullet hole.

Apparently, they didn’t want him dead.

Unable to sit up, Scott noticed the intravenous tubing that snaked away from the bed. They were hydrating him, though he shivered with cold. He found that the bed upon which he lay was metallic, something out of a hospital nightmare. Though he tried to move, Scott found his hands and feet chained to the bed, giving him only minor movement. All he could do was touch the bandage and lift his head.

The world was still stained with red, as always. With a start, Scott realized he had opened his eyes without even ensuring that his visor was in place. Thankfully, whomever was interested in the mutants had obviously done their homework.

Across the room, Cyclops caught a slight movement out of the corner of his eye. Startled, he peered into the shadows, hoping against hope that Storm had escaped. Of course, she would rouse the Calvary. His ex-girlfriend was nothing if not dependable.

“Scott?�

“Ororo?� Cyclops struggled to sit up, his hope of a speedy recovery out the window. “Are you all right?�

He heard a choked sob; the weak screech of body against metallic bed. Turning his head as far as he could, Scott tried desperately to see further into the hidden corner. A single, bloodied hand fell over the side of the other bed, the strong steel chain glittering in the faint light from the lamp across the room.

“Storm?� Scott struggled against his restraints, all manner of horrible visions fluttering behind his closed lids. She was hurt. God, don’t let her die. Don’t let her die. Please. Someone help her. Someone help her.

The door swung open as Scott thrashed against the bed. He did not realize the internal screams were indeed vocal and roused the guards outside. A slender woman wearing a long white lab coat rushed over to his bed, chiding him for attempting to escape and tearing his stitches open in the process.

A needle pricked his arm and Scott was once more swallowed by darkness.

When he woke the second time, he did so with a scream of fury. He could hear her. The terrible sound of Storm screaming in tortured pain seared him to the soul. Not even fully awake from his drugged sleep, Cyclops struggled against the restraints. They couldn’t hurt her anymore. Make it stop. Make it stop.

His eyes opened swiftly, immediately landing on the woman he prayed for so fervently.

Storm dangled in the center of their “hospital� room, chains clasped at her wrists that seemed anchored to the low ceiling. Her body swung drunkenly as a group of men in white coats surrounded her listless form. They were using something on her, drawing out those horrible screams from her beautiful throat.

“Would you look at those spikes?� One of them was saying conversationally. “So much power.�

“Two feet of rain already. That’s impossible!� Another chimed in, his voice akin to an excited child.

“Stop it!� Scott yelled from his bed. “Leave her alone!�

“Hush now.� Came a cool female voice. Scott had not even noticed the doctor standing behind him, fiddling with the bags attached to the IV in his arm.

“Stop!� Cyclops pulled harder at the restraints, finding he now had less freedom.

The gaggle of doctors parted enough to let Scott truly see Ororo’s body as it hung limply from the ceiling. Her bloodied hands bore obvious cuts from the shackles clasped at the wrists. Her face swelled already with what seemed to be a blow to her cheek. Storm’s eyes were milk white as her mutation raged, letting the elements describe her pain, her hopelessness. Scott scarcely recognized Storm’s naked body, the horror of what they were doing to her making his stomach roil with the urge to vomit.

That white head lifted slightly, meeting his eyes over the heads of the doctors. Ororo smiled slightly, weakly, as though the comforting gesture took nearly all of her strength.

“We should keep her.� One of the men said simply. “We didn’t intend to capture them, but this one is a good find.�

“Mmm,� another agreed. “We’ll release the male subject at the border.�

“Cut her down.�

Ororo’s body hit the floor with a sickening thud. Scott would ever recall what she did next and with a surge of such pride it would never diminish. Ororo did not crumple to the floor, but caught her weight on her hands. Though she trembled from the strength it took her to remain up, she lifted that beautiful face with an expression of the deepest loathing.

“Is that,� she gasped weakly. “All you’ve got?�

The doctors laughed. “She reminds me of Wolverine! What a team they would make!�

Scott stilled his struggles. Wolverine. That was their plan. They wanted to capture him. He realized in that moment these men were indeed part of Weapon X. Of course they wanted their assassin back, the indomitable Wolverine tucked safely away at the mutant school. Scott kept his eyes on Storm as she glared at the doctors torturing her.

Ororo glanced back at Cyclops, her eyes returning to the brilliant shade of blue that was so familiar. The elements calmed instantly. Scott marveled at her control. How could anyone keep their emotions in check after that?

“Again.� One of the doctors ordered, seemingly put out at the sudden calm. “This time increase the intervals.�

Ororo laughed. “Do you want to play again?�

Scott had enough. As they raised Storm back up so she dangled from the ceiling, Scott turned his head. They laughed, thinking he could no longer watch the proceedings. But as Cyclops used the edge of his bed to slide his visor down, he felt a sick sort of violent triumph.

“Get down!� He shouted to Storm before turning his head again. His eyes opened, releasing a flood of optic beams unfettered by modern technology. The pure force of his mutation punched a hole in the room, letting in the sunlight and scattering the doctors previously gathered around Ororo’s hanging body.

He closed his eyes again, struggling against the doctor trying to inject what he assumed was another sedative into his bloodstream. The room rocked precariously. They had been moving. Scott felt another tinge of victory as he realized they were not completely lost. If the team was in transport, they had not yet reached their secret facility and so the mutants they had captured were not nearly as secure as one might hope. Scott heard another thud and wished he could open his eyes. The needle pricked his flesh and he braced for the sting of a sedative. But only a moment later, the needle was yanked away and he felt a familiar hand touch his brow.

“Here.� Ororo told him, slipping the visor over his eyes. Scott opened them as soon as he knew she would be protected.

The restraints came away quickly and Scott sat up, ignoring the pain in his chest and back. Storm accepted his embrace quickly, gingerly holding him before she urged him to move.

“Come on.� Storm demanded, pulling Scott carefully out of the bed. They hobbled, naked and shivering, toward the exit Cyclops had easily sliced into the metal room. Ororo pushed both bodies out of the truck, avoiding gunshots as the winds swirled, lifting them to safety.

They vanished into the air, Storm using the elements to protect them from gunfire while they escaped. Scott drifted back out of consciousness, comforted by the feel of Ororo’s storm.

~**~

She managed to find a dress suitable for the occasion in only minutes, charging her pretty frock to the mansion. Charles wouldn’t mind, really, not when he heard the good news. Surely, if he could bless the bastardized version of this ceremony between two women, a more traditional merging of lives would not be so far off base.

They found a Justice willing to perform the ceremony, got their license in order – who cared if they had to forge Logan’s name and social security number? Would anyone really mind?

So it was within two hours that Jean and Logan stood before the Justice of the Peace in a town hall, staring at one another with stars in their eyes. Jean, of course, concentrated on keeping the wool pulled firmly over Logan’s eyes. He wanted this. If he didn’t, Jean was sure he would have found a way out of her mental lock down. He had not and so she comforted herself, drove away the guilt by reminding herself that Logan never did anything he did not want to.

They said “I do� at precisely six o’clock, just as the nearby church bell tolled. Didn’t Logan look wonderful in his rented tuxedo? She was beautiful, innocent in a simple dress of pure white. She dazzled him, making sure of it through the link she created during the careful manipulation.

At exactly six-oh-four, the Justice pronounced them husband and wife. Logan kissed his bride with gusto, making Jean giggle in his arms. They had brought two witnesses from the nearby Court Clerk’s office, a couple of sweet-hearted receptionists who gladly agreed to stay late for the service.

Logan laughed as Jean tossed her bouquet of white lilies – purchased while Logan was trying on his tuxedo – before they made their way out of the Hall. Jean was walking on air. She’d tamed the Wolverine, made him her loyal companion. Once he seemed more comfortable, she might ease up on the mental control, let him get used to having her around. By then, of course, he would be happy with the arrangement. He wouldn’t be angry at all! She might have to get pregnant before then. Yes, the sooner the better. Logan certainly wouldn’t harm his unborn child!

Though she felt Charles beckoning her back to the mansion for the last several hours, Jean ignored him. Again she used the mansion’s credit account to check into a lavish four-star hotel for the weekend. A wedding wasn’t complete without a honeymoon, after all! Wouldn’t Charles be happy to have two of his beloved X-Men bound together by matrimony?

As night fell over New York City, Jean let her husband undress her and felt not a twinge of guilt for her careful deception.