For the thousandth time that day Ororo Monroe wondered if she was making the biggest mistake of her life. She was seated in the back of a long black limo, across from a man she had met only a handful of times recently, heading towards his upper New York estate. Her hand tightened reflexively on the bottle of water in her hand. If she wasn’t careful she was going to spill her Perrier all over the expensive leather interior of the car.

“Nervous?” The man across from her asked.

Ororo raised one snow white eyebrow. “No.”

He lifted one of his own eyebrows, saying nothing. His skepticism was written all over his face.

Ororo crossed her arms, staring out the heavily tinted windows of the limo, briefly wondering if they were bulletproof.

“They are.” Her companion replied.
Ororo gave him a startled look. “Don’t do that.” She said taking a sip from her green bottle, her eyes never leaving his.


“My apologies. Habit, you know.”
“No. I don’t know. In general I like to mind my own business.”

Silence again.

The limo was turning now, Ororo realized, closing her eyes, allowing her body to feel the movement of the vehicle. They were climbing a slight incline, stopping in front of a heavy wrought iron gate so that the driver could enter some security code, allowing them access to the estate beyond.

“I think you will be happy here, Ororo.”

For a moment she did not reply, then capping her drink muttered, “Beats jail.”

She pressed the small intercom button on her right, allowing her to speak with the driver. “Hey, Jeeves, you might want to check the tire pressure in the rear right tire. It feels a bit low.”

“Of course, Miss Munroe.” Came a level cultured tone.

The car was slowing, turning again. A winding drive? She wondered. Suddenly she felt a twinge in her stomach. Was she really going to do this? Was she really about to join a team of mutant superhero crime fighters? Could she stay in one place for more than two nights? Could she place herself in contact with other people once again? Ignoring all the questions racing through her mind she instead thought about the reason she had agreed to come to this place and firmed her resolve. She didn’t have a choice.

“Ready?” Her companion again.
“Sure.” She sounded far more certain than she felt.

The car door was suddenly opened, and a tall aging gentleman was leaning in, holding out his hand for hers. “Miss Munroe?”

Taking the outstretched hand, allowing the driver to assist her from the limo Ororo found herself staring at the most beautiful home she had ever seen. Deep red brick trimmed in white, large columns supporting the front porch, bright green ivy climbing the sides of the building, clinging to it like a lover reluctant to let go. Ororo placed one hand over her already shaded eyes, taking in the expansive yard. A pool shimmered in the distance, tennis and basketball courts on either side of the facility. Several expensive looking cars in the driveway ahead of the limo, and she assumed several more in the large garage alongside the mansion.

Large and Luxurious were the two words that popped into her mind. Instantly she began to memorize the layout, the easiest ways in and out, the rooms most likely to have--

“Ahem.”

“Sorry. Habit, you know.”

Her companion coughed into his hand. He allowed her another moment of gawking before saying, “Welcome, Ororo, to the Xavier Institute.”

“Home of the X-Men,” she said nodding. “Tell me, Charles, you having a bit of an ego trip here or what?”

Before Professor Charles Xavier could answer he picked up on a mental image and rolled his wheelchair to the right.

“Heads!” A shout sounded half a second before a football slammed into the window of the limo, in the spot Xavier’s head had been but a moment ago, bouncing off and spinning at Ororo’s feet.

She bent down retrieving it and when she stood she was face to face with a very large mutant, steel skin glinting in the bright sun.

“Sorry. Bobby’s got no game.” the sizeable man said, voice accented thick Russian.

“Hey! I heard that!“ A flash of silver and cold as another mutant whizzed by on what appeared to be an ice slide, dousing the larger mutant with a pile of snow.

The first young man was looking at her, cocking his head, seemingly oblivious to the snow dripping down his metal torso. “You new?”

Ororo nodded, uncapping her water and taking another long drink, noticing that her arrival was drawing a small crowd. She twisted the black band she wore around her wrist in agitation. Great. Just great.

Jean Grey was sitting underneath one of the large oak trees that dotted the front lawn of the Institute, a red and white checked blanket underneath her, her current flame, Wolverine laying beside her, arms behind his head, watching her with glittering black eyes.

She leaned over him, sliding her mouth over his. He slipped one hand into her shoulder length red hair, letting her kiss him. She shifted slightly so that her chest was pressed against his. “Ever make love outdoors?” she whispered, voice husky.

“No,” he responded in his deep graveled voice. “But I have fucked outside a couple of times.”

“Jeez, Wolverine.” Jean pushed away from him. “That was classy.”

He said nothing, just placing his muscular arm back behind his head, causing the black material of his T-shirt to tighten over his broad chest.

Jean groaned, God he was so sexy. He positively oozed sex, she thought, her hand trailing lightly over his stomach. She was about to kiss him again when she noticed several of the students making their way towards the front gate. “Wonder what’s going on?” she said.

Wolverine tilted his head back, looking in the direction Jean had been. “Looks like Chuck brought a new recruit.”

“That’s odd. He usually sends me to pick them up.”

“Maybe this one’s personal.” Wolverine said on a yawn. He really didn’t give a shit about yet another sniveling teenage puppy Chuck was bringing to take up space.

Jean noticed Scott Summer’s walking towards the gate at an accelerated rate, and her eyes narrowed. “C’mon.” she said. “Let’s go take a peek at the latest freak.”

Wolverine grunted, closing his eyes. “All set, Jeannie.”

“That’s all right. I’ll just go with Scott.” she said icily, getting to her feet. She was halfway to the driveway when she felt the hair on the nape of her neck stand on end and knew that Wolverine was sauntering behind her. She smiled.

It was a bit unsettling that effect he had on her, she thought as she walked, most times she felt like lame prey to his predator. That was part of the attraction, she supposed, he was the ultimate challenge. The wild card. The maverick. Mr. unpredictable. She had just about every male at the school panting after her, and some of the females, willing to do her bidding, jumping through her hoops. Including Wolverine, even if he was a little slower than most at getting around to it. But unlike the others there was always an edge to him, a limit to what he was willing to give and what he was willing to take. That didn’t really bother Jean, she liked this game they played. She liked being the good girl with the bad boy, the one no one else could have, or no one else dared to have. It was exciting, and it was a huge ego boost.

Approaching a smaller group of people that included Cyclops and Beast, Jean asked, “What’s going on?”

“New recruit.” Scott said. His jaw tightened at the sight of Wolverine. “The Professor just got back.”

“Who is it?”

“That has yet to be determined as it is currently next to impossible to garner visual confirmation of this new prodigal son.” that was Hank McCoy, Beast to the fellow X-Men.

“Right.” Jean rolled her eyes. “Okay, separate.” she commanded. Not surprisingly several people moved aside to let her through. Wolverine wrapped one arm across her shoulders, flashing Scott a predatory grin, leading Jean down the sloped lawn towards the drive. Scott trailed behind them scowling.

As soon as the made their way to the front of the crowd forming they noticed the new recruit. Standing beside the professor was a woman with creamy caramel skin, dressed in faded blue jeans, frayed at the waist, a ball cap and sunglasses, wearing a black sleeveless top with the words ‘Mutants Do It Better!’ printed in bright white letters across the front of it. She was lean but well curved, Wolverine noted giving her a brief once over. Her crossed arms were toned and tight, but the ample globes resting on top of them were soft and well formed. She seemed more rugged, stronger than the usual X-females he had come across. She lifted her head as if sensing she was being studied, but quickly turned her attention back to the man in the wheel chair at her side as he said something only she could hear.

As the four of them approached the mystery woman removed her ball cap and sunglasses, tossing them back through the still open door of the limo with a careless flick, then looked at Xavier, muttering, “Happy now.”

When she turned back to face them Wolverine felt like he had been punched in the gut. She was absolutely breathtaking. A mass of shiny white hair tumbled down her back and over one shoulder, shining and glinting in the sunlight. Without her sunglasses he was able to see her almond shaped, outrageously blue eyes, framed by thick long black lashes. Her lush lips were pursed slightly as if she were concentrating, but even so he could tell they were full and plump.

“Whoa.” Said Scott softly from behind him.

“Yeah. Whoa.” Hank echoed.

“Ah, Marvel Girl, Cyclops, I’m glad you’re here. I would like you to meet the newest member of our team--” Xavier began, gesturing towards the woman next to him.

“Storm.” Ororo said hurriedly.

“Storm.” Charles finished, giving Ororo a small smile. “Storm these are some of your fellow X-men. Jean Grey, Scott Summers, Hank McCoy and Wolverine.”

“Hello.” She held each of their gazes steadily, even his Wolverine noticed, mildly impressed by that. There were few people who could look him straight in the eye. Her gaze lingered on him the longest, almost warily as if she had picked up that he was the most dangerous of the people in front of her. He could smell no fear, but her eyes watched his movements carefully, guardedly.

They were all staring at her. Ororo tried not to be bothered by their open looks, after all she had gotten those looks for most of her life. The dark girl with the white hair. She rarely went unnoticed, but she had hoped that here may be a little different. There were so many other mutants hanging around, why fixate on her?

She studied the people around her carefully. The petite red head was smiling at her, but it looked a trifle forced. She was a pretty girl, Ororo thought. Her fiery tresses flaring out around her oval face, vivid green eyes and cute button nose.

However it was the man beside her, with his arm draped around the redhead’s shoulders that caught her attention and held it. He practically screamed dominant male. Dominant male and Danger. He was well built, muscular and handsome. No, handsome wasn’t the word, he was far more than that. He exuded animal magnetism, drawing her attention to him. His dark ebony hair stood in wild disarray, save for two thick locks resting over his forehead. One side of his mouth was tilted up in a knowing smile. What is it you think you know? She wondered.

All of his features were commanding, but it was his dark gaze that held her rooted where she stood. She had felt it before she saw him. Now he was looking at her, mouth quirked, his eyes boring into her like he could see every secret she had, every hidden part of her. It was a feeling she disliked intensely.

Moving her gaze to the man Charles had called Cyclops Ororo extended her hand. She remembered Xavier telling her who the leader of the X-men was, and who she would be trained under. She couldn’t see his eyes because of the ruby red shades he wore, but she got the impression of friendly eyes.

“Nice to meet you,” she said.

“Uhm, uh, yeah. Nice to see you. I mean meet you.” Scott corrected lamely taking her hand. He had a decent grip, she noted. Strong, but not overpowering. You could tell a lot about a person from their handshake she had learned over the years.

“Is he always this articulate?” Ororo asked the large, furry man next to Cyclops.

“Huh?” He asked, blinking rapidly.

“Nevermind.”

“Come, Storm. I will show you to your room, then perhaps you’d care to join me for dinner.” Charles said.

“Sounds like a plan.” Ororo said. “Hey, Jeeves, need hand with those bags?” She asked over her shoulder.

“His name is Winston.” the redhead corrected, her tone contemptuous.

“Yeah, I know.” Ororo stated, a bit unnerved by the open animosity she was sensing coming from the other woman. She turned her back to them, making her way to the rear of the limo. “Here, let me.” She took her single bag from the older man’s hands.

“It is no trouble at all, Miss Munroe.” Winston argued.

“I know, but you know us modern independent women. Can’t have a man do anything for us, for fear that we’ll be shoved back into the kitchen, frilly pink apron tied around our waist and the shackles of motherhood clamped around our ankles. Blame Judith Butler and her strong essays on gender roles,” Ororo said lifting her bag. “Thanks anyway, Jeeves.” She gave him a wink. Without another word Ororo followed Charles up the drive, not giving them even a backward glance.

“Wow.” Hank said.

“Too bad you’re taken,” Scott said, referring to Hank’s longtime girlfriend Celia Richards.

“Alas, you are correct my fearless leader, my heart is spoken for by a veritable angel among mortals. However, you are as single as they come.”

“Thanks for the reminder.” Scott grinned. “Hey, Professor, Storm wait up!” He sprinted up the drive.

“Hnh.” Wolverine grunted.

“With a name like Storm one must wonder what her powers are?” Beast mused aloud.

“'You mean besides the amazing ability t'stick her chest out?” Jean grumbled.

Wolverine looked down at her one eyebrow raised. She was staring after Storm and the Professor, glaring daggers. “Well, well, darlin’. Jealous?”

“Of that? Hardly.”

“Jean, you don’t even know her,” Hank admonished, surprised by his friend’s reaction.

“I don’t have to eat shit to know I won’t like it.” Jean said. “Come on, Wolverine.” She tugged his arm.

“Naw. I’m all set, Red. I think I’ll take a spin.”

“Can I come?”

Wolverine looked at her. She knew he didn’t take anyone with him on his bike, that was his baby, his solitude. Jean glowered, then spinning on her heel walked away, sending him the mental image of her flipping him off. “Women.” He growled.

Jean found the Professor, Scott and Storm on the second floor of the Institute. They were standing in the hallway, talking amiably amongst each other. Xavier turned his head, sensing her approach.

“Hello, Jean We were just about to show Storm her room.”

“Oh. Fun.”

Scott gave her a look at her sarcastic tone. Xavier raised one eyebrow. “So which one is it?” She asked, ignoring them.

“It’s not on this floor. As a matter of fact, Scott will have to show you as I can’t take my wheelchair up the narrow steps. When you are settled have Cyclops bring you to my office. We have much to discuss.”

“Sure, Charles.” Ororo said. She gave into her impulse and bent, kissing the man on his bald head.

Charles? Jean grit her teeth. She had been an X-man for two years and she still called Xavier Professor. And kiss him? She wouldn’t dream of it.

“Shall we?” Scott was saying to Storm, holding his elbow out to her.

“We shall,” said Storm, placing her hand in the crook of his arm.

“Coming Jean?” he called over his shoulder as they made their way down the hallway. She didn’t answer but fell into step behind them. Where were they going? The only thing up this way was the attic? Was Xavier stuffing the new girl in the attic. Jean smiled a little at the thought.

Once at the top of the stairs Scott fished a silver key out of his pocket. “Here you go,” he handed it to Storm.

She tilted her head then, without the key, turned the handle. The door opened easily. “Not locked.”

“Uh, yeah. Well, this is yours anyway.” He pressed the key into her hand, disconcerted by her direct gaze. Scott had the feeling she was studying him, assessing his actions. Watching him. It reminded him way to much of Wolverine to be comfortable.

“Thanks guys, I got it from here.” She stepped through the door, closing it gently behind her, ignoring the surprised droop of Cyclops mouth.

The inside of the attic was beautiful. The hardwood floors had been stripped and polished, a large bed sat in the center of the room beneath a large open skylight, the white ruffles of the bed skirt rustling in the breeze. A potted orchid sat on a dark cherry nightstand, a small card next to the base. Ororo set her bag down, walking over to the flower, picking up the card. On it, written in unfamiliar handwriting, were two simple words, but they made her chest feel tight. Welcome Home.

Once the contents of her single bag were unpacked and sorted Ororo looked around her room once more. She couldn’t believe what a great room she had. Wide and spacious, complete with sky light and it’s own balcony. Perfect, she thought pushing open the glass double doors, the sheer pale curtains fluttering in the breeze. She leaned against the railing taking in the expansive yard that lay below her. There were still several people roaming around in the yard, and the mutants she had seen earlier were still playing football. In the distance she heard the unmistakable rumble of thunder and sighed contentedly. Mother nature was whipping up a doozey. Hating to depart the balcony before the shower began, Ororo reluctantly walked back into her room, closing the double doors behind her. Time to get ready for dinner with Charles.

From the courtyard below Wolverine glanced up, catching a glimpse of snow white hair and stunning profile as the newest recruit turned away from the third story balcony railing and walked back inside. She was damn pleasant to look at, he thought. Not your typical cookie cutter beauty, that one. No she was exotic and wild, and had the scent to match. Earthy, natural and very pleasant. He remembered the punched in the gut feeling he got when he’d first seen her, mildly surprised that he felt it again just now.

“Wolverine. There you are.” Jean called, marching towards him from the porch, her red hair flaming in the fading sunlight.

“Red.” He flicked his lighter, cupping his hand around the flame as the wind picked up, lighting the cigar clenched between his teeth. She gave him a reproachful glare. He sat silent.

“You know the Professor hates you smoking.”

“I’m outside,” he said flatly. “What do ya need, Jean?”

“I was hoping you and I could go into town and spend some quality time together.” She said, running her fingertips along his arm. Wolverine was once again silent, and Jean wished that she could read his mind, but she couldn’t. Wolverine was damn near impervious to telepathy. No getting in unless he wanted you to. “Well?” she prodded when he didn’t say anything.

Just then Scott appeared on the front porch, and though his eyes were hidden behind his visor Wolverine knew he was looking straight at him and Jean. Smiling his sexiest smile, Wolverine leaned in, kissing the corner of Jean’s mouth, then running his tongue against the seam of her lips. She sighed, easily melting into him.

Scott turned away, fists clenched. He strode back in the mansion, only looking back once.

“Is that a yes?” Jean asked breathlessly.

Wolverine pulled back slightly, smile gone. “Not tonight, Jean.” He pushed himself away from her, striding across the pavement to the garage. He was ready for that ride now.

Back inside the mansion Scott strode down the halls, his teeth grinding. What did she see in that animal? He wondered for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Hi. It’s Scott, right?”

Scott turned, drawn to the sound of a warm sultry voice. Storm stood in the open lobby, her head tilted to one side, long white braid draping over her bare shoulder. When he didn’t respond right away she assumed he hadn’t heard her. She walked towards him, her long cream colored sundress fluttering at her ankles as she moved, barefoot, across the marble tiles.

“Or do you prefer Cyclops,” she said when she was next to him.

“Cyclops is fine.” he said at last. She was nearly as tall as he was, Scott noticed. She was looking at him with those eyes that saw too much again and he looked away unnerved. “Ready for your dinner?” he asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” she muttered.

“Normally we all eat in the dining hall with everyone else, but the Professor would like to have dinner with you in his office,” Scott said as they made their way down the hall. They reached the elevator but Storm stepped away from it. “Are there stairs?” she asked.

Confused Scott said, “Uh, yeah. Over there.”

“Thanks.” Storm moved towards the stairwell.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked.

“No, I’m pretty good at finding my way.” Storm made her way down the stairs. The boy scout was nice enough, she mused, but he had a serious stick lodged deep in his backend. She could tell by the rigid set of his shoulders, and the slightly arrogant tilt of his jaw, like he was trying to prove something. She felt a little guilty for thinking that about the guy, but she called ‘em like she saw ‘em.

Storm followed the hall until she came to a large mahogany door.

“Enter.” Came a mild male voice.

Ororo frowned, she hadn’t even knocked yet. Opening the door she said, “You know, Charles, it wouldn’t kill you to not do that.”

Charles chuckled. “You always seem to say exactly what’s on your mind, Storm.”

She shrugged. “Why not?”

“It is not an insult, it’s refreshing. You’d be surprised how many people don’t do that.”

She raised one eyebrow.

“All right,” he conceded, “maybe you would believe it.”

“Mmhm.” Ororo glanced around the room. It was nice, sparsely decorated, but nice. A large potted plant stood in one corner, its green leaves turning brown at the tips. She moved towards it, running her hand along the leaves, and stems. “You should take better care of your plants.”

“I know,” Charles agreed. “But it is difficult to find the time.”

Ororo said nothing, forming a small rain cloud in the palm of her hand, sprinkling the dry soil until it was rich brown.

“That is one of the things I wished to speak with you about,” Charles was saying.

“You want me to water your plants?” she asked skeptically.

“No. But I would like you to teach a Botany class.”

Storm paused in her watering, casting Xavier a disbelieving look over her shoulder. “You’re kidding.”

“No. I am very serious.”

“Look, Charles, I appreciate that this is some sort of mutant high as well as a training facility for your world renowned X-men, but I am not a teacher, nor do I have the inclination to be one.”

“Storm. A condition of your being here was that you would work for me for at least one year. It‘s not much to ask, in return for a home.” He rolled his chair to the window, looking outside. He knew that a home was the one thing Ororo Munroe desired more than anything. It was a desire he could use to his advantage if necessary.

“I agreed to join your little group of vigilantes.” Storm said, irritation growing.

He turned his head back to her. “The X-Men are far more than ‘vigilantes’, they are teachers, trainers and role models for the younger students.”

Storm scoffed. “Yeah, a pick-pocket, car-jacker and all around thief is just the type of role model you want a kid to have.”

Charles frowned at her sarcasm. “In a perfect world, no. I would not want to have you as a role model for my students. However, the world is far from perfect and my students need to be prepared for the hardships they’ll face as mutants. They need to be able to defend themselves. Besides, I will have need of several of the skills that you mentioned.”

Storm was quiet for a moment. Then she asked, “If I refuse?”

Xavier didn’t even blink. “Then I’ll withdraw my offer to assist you.”

Storm’s eyes snapped angrily. “I thought you were different.” she said tightly.

“No one gets something for nothing, Storm.”

“Fine. You have a Botany teacher and thief on your team, Xavier. But when my year is up, I’m gone. So you’d better figure out real quick how to fix my problem.” She ground out between clenched teeth. Turning she marched towards the door, saying over her shoulder, “A word of caution, Xavier. I am only willing to be manipulated so far.”

He nodded. “Aren’t you going to eat?” Charles asked mildly, rolling over to the small table he had set out.

“I’ve lost my appetite.” She opened the door, slamming it behind her. As she strode down the hall she yanked the elastic from her hair angrily, letting it fall loose about her waist. This is a bang up first day, Storm thought moodily. Thunder boomed outside. About time.

Storm hurried up the stairs, nearly running as she went. Once in her attic loft she threw open the balcony doors and with a quick peek outside she confirmed that the students had all gone inside to get out of the torrential downpour. She stepped onto her balcony, letting the soothing rain pour down on her.

Inside his office Charles Xavier sat thinking. He needed Storm on his team. Needed her for some very specific assignments. However, it was apparent that the lure of a home was not going to be strong enough to get her to stay. He would need something stronger to tie her to them. He closed his eyes, mentally reviewing all the information he had on her. He hated manipulation, but as it was, he was left with little option.

He sat up straighter in his wheelchair, remembering a fleeting impression he had gotten from Storm’s mind when they had first met. Someone she wanted to protect. Charles pushed the intercom button. “Winston, I need a phonebook.”

Night

Ororo threw her blankets aside. There was just no sleeping tonight. Not that that was a big surprise, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten a full nights sleep. Goddess, she could use one. It had been so long since she’d had any peace. Realizing she was agitating herself she took a deep breath, filling her lungs. She let it out slowly. Better.

Striding to her balcony she peered through the glass windows. There was a forest nearby. Perhaps a nice walk would help calm her nerves. Ororo pulled on a pair of sweatpants under her oversized nightshirt. She slipped out of the doors, leaping from the balcony, using the winds at her command to slow her decent.

“Going somewhere?” A deep graveled voice asked from the shadows.

Ororo spun around, her stance defensive. “Who’s there?”

Flame from a struck match briefly illuminated the commanding features of the man she had met earlier, the one who made her heart beat just a little faster, who looked like he could see straight through her…Wolverine.

“Storm.” He returned. She hadn’t realized she’d said his name out loud.

“I was going for a walk.” She said.

“A bit late fer that dontchya think.”

Storm crossed her arms. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, it’s not.”

“Actually, darlin’, it is my business. I’m the one that has ta fetch yer sorry ass if something’ happens ta ya while yer out traipsing’ the lawn.” He looked down. “In yer bare feet no less.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Wolverine. I am quite capable of taking care of myself. But if it makes you feel any better you’re welcome to join me.” Why had she done that?

Wolverine was momentarily taken back. Aside from Jean wanting him for sex, no one ever invited him to do anything. Not that he minded, he disliked most of the sniveling brats roaming around the Institute. “Naw, you just getchyer butt back in the house and up ta bed.” he said.

“No.”

Wolverine stepped forward, a cloud of smoke from his cigar hanging in the damp air. “I said get back in the house,” he growled at her.

“And I said no,” she snarled right back.

This was definitely something new. A challenger. He stepped away from her. “Have it yer way, darlin’.”

Ororo blinked. Had he just backed down? Somehow that didn’t fit the impression she had gotten from him earlier. She turned, heading towards the wooded tree line in the distance. She hadn’t gone more than a hundred yards when she got the distinct impression she was being followed. She turned her head slightly, but could see no one. Hmm.

Wolverine watched her from the shadows. She paused, turning her head, searching. He was impressed that she could sense him, not many people could. She shrugged one shoulder and continued to walk. As she entered the forest she sighed happily. She moved along the grass and roots as if she were not walking through them, but as if she was moving with them, as much a part of nature as the foliage themselves.

“If you want to join me, the offer is still open.” The sound of her sultry smooth voice reached him. He didn’t move. “I didn’t think you’d back down from a little thing like me, you just don’t seem the type,” her tone was teasing.

“And just what do you think you know about me after meeting me for thirty seconds.” His breath stirred the hair at the nape of her neck. Good lord the man was silent and quick. Everything she’d heard about him came rushing back. Merciless killer. Assassin. Soulless.

Ororo didn’t dare turn around, he was too close. Instead she focused on keeping her breathing even. “I don’t know much, only what Charles told me of you.”

“And what flattering words did Chuck have to say about me.” His voice was deeper, more graveled and just as close as before.

“He said that you were an assassin. The best assassin in the world.”

Wolverine was surprised. She had known he was a killer and she had still invited him on a walk? Was she soft in the head? “And what do you think of that?” He asked quietly.

“I hope he’s right.”

Yep, definitely soft in the head. “Why, darlin’? Is there someone you want killed?”

Ororo shrugged nonchalantly. “I hope it doesn’t come to that, but yeah, maybe.” She turned then, faltering a little at his close proximity. She stumbled backwards but strong arms enfolded her, keeping her from falling. She found her hands pressed flat against his broad black t-shirt covered chest, his heart beat thudding beneath her right palm.

“Storm,” Wolverine whispered. “Is an interesting name.”

“So is Wolverine,” she countered.

He didn’t know why it happened, but it did. “Logan.”

She smiled and Wolverine was floored. He could not have imagined that she could be more beautiful, but that smile lit up her face. Everything but her eyes, where up close as he was, he could see the sadness buried within their blue depths.

“Hello, Logan. I’m Ororo.”

He liked the way his name sounded on her lips. Not one person at the Institute knew his real name, save perhaps Xavier, but he never used it, and Wolverine was mildly confused by his willingness to give it to this woman. Looking at her he felt drawn to her, he could feel his head bending forward…

“Don’t worry, Logan. I won’t tell if you won’t tell.” For a moment he thought she was talking about kissing him, but then he realized she was referring to their names. She detached herself from his arms, standing a few feet away, looking very composed where he felt damn near bereft without her in his arms. What the fuck?

There was a shift in the air and Wolverine could smell the unmistakable scent of ozone. The thunderstorm that hit that afternoon was not quite done with them it seemed. “We should get back,” he said. “It’ll be raining soon.”

Ororo lifted her face to the sky. “I think we’ll be fine.”

“I’m telling ya, there’s a thunderstorm in the making. The nose don’t lie.” He said, growling a little.

Turning towards him Ororo raised one hand in the air. There was a sizzle and then a crack as lightening exploded from the sky, streaking down into her open palm. Her hair flew about her face, her eyes glowing eerie white. “Again, I think we’ll be fine.” she said, the bolt dancing along her fingertips, arching into her other hand.

“So, that’s yet power.” Wolverine said.

“Yes, this and my amazing ability to stick out my chest.” Her tone was dry, one corner of her mouth turned up.

For the first time in a long time Wolverine laughed. “I think I’m gonna like having ya around, ‘Ro.”

Xavier Institute
Early Morning


Ororo entered the kitchen quietly. It was early yet and she was hoping to miss the crowd. She’d been at Xavier’s for two weeks now and had become acquainted with most of her teammates, save a few, and learned the patterns of the household. Most students didn’t get up until seven, so that gave her an hour to get her breakfast and get out before the mob of teenagers hit.

Most days her routine was the same, training, lessons, Danger Room. But since Storm was never one for routine and found it stifling, she occasionally would take a nightly stroll, more often than not trailed by a silent Wolverine. She didn’t know whether or not he knew she was aware of him, so she kept quiet as well. She began to grow accustomed to his shadow after awhile and found herself strangely comforted by his presence. She was glad he didn’t speak to her, however. She had found herself thinking of him far too frequently since that first night and he had walked with her in the woods, and she didn’t need those kind of complications in her life.

Inside the kitchen she noticed Cyclops seated at a long table. He was chewing a mouthful of bran flakes and the redhead, Marvel Girl, was leaning over his shoulder, arms across his back, reading the newspaper with him. Somehow that fit, Ororo thought.

Also in the kitchen, seated at the table was a young woman with spiked dark hair, covered in piercing, her feet up, apple in her hand, chewing absently as she read a magazine article. She gave Ororo a brief once over then returned to her magazine. Despite the dismissive gesture Storm liked the girl on sight. She had a street edge to her that Ororo could relate to.

Making her way to the coffee machine Ororo asked, “Who moved the mugs?”

Scott looked up from his paper and gave her a brief smile. “Second cupboard to the left. If you want I can get that for you.”

She shook her head gently, causing her thick snow tresses to glimmer in the sunlight. “No, the day I’m too invalid to get my own coffee someone’s going to have to put me down.”

The spiked hair girl snorted, her gaze on Jean, a crooked smile on her face. Jean was scowling at Storm and Ororo got the distinct impression that Jean was probably waited on a lot.

Ignoring Jean‘s dark scowl Ororo poured her coffee. “I don’t think we’ve met,” she said, approaching the pierced young woman.

“No. Name’s Ali.”

“Storm.” Ororo took the seat next to her, reaching for an orange. She took a sip from her steaming mug. It was a tad weak for her liking, but good enough. She nearly spilled the hot liquid all over her lap when a younger girl with brown hair and honey eyes materialized through the floor, dropping down into one of the empty chairs.

“Morning!” The girl said, her voice light and chipper. ”Hey, you’re the new girl!”

“Her name’s Storm,” Ali said around a mouthful of apple.

“Nice, Dazzler.” Jean said with an upturned nose. In response Ali opened her mouth wider, wiggling the half chewed fruit around with her tongue. Jean looked away with a grimace.

“Alison.” Cyclops warned.

Ali closed her mouth, opening her magazine and strategically placing it in front of her face so as to not have to look at anyone else.

“Storm’s a neat name,” Kitty was saying. “I’m Kitty Pryde.” She smiled at Ororo.

“You know, Kitty, we have doors.” Jean said. She gestured to her empty cup and Cyclops rose to get her some more juice. “It’s just plain rude not to use them.” Jean continued.

“I know.” Kitty looked down at the table. A slight flush crept up her neck.

“Why bother,” Ororo said. “I mean I sure as heck wouldn’t waste time with doors if I could walk through walls. The whole point of this school is to use our powers without the stigma placed on us from the outside world. So I say if you can walk through walls then walk through walls and like it.“ She gave Kitty a wink, feeling suddenly protective of the younger girl. Kitty beamed.

“You won’t say that when she walks through your bedroom in the middle of the night.” Jean replied.

‘Hey! That only happened once!” Kitty defended.

Ororo didn’t respond. Over the past couple of weeks she had gotten the distinct impression that Marvel girl liked to have the last word, and since she just didn’t care all that much about this particular conversation, she may as well let her have it. Instead, Ororo pushed against the skin of her orange with her fingernail. Tough little bugger.

The small group of them sat in silence, the sound of crunching bran flakes the only noise to be heard until the outside kitchen door flung open and Wolverine strode in. Immediately Jean straightened away from Scott and Kitty tried to sink lower in her chair. He gave them all his usually predatory stare, his dark eyes fierce.

Entering the kitchen Logan found his gaze immediately drawn to Ororo. She had crossed his mind a dozen times last night after he had seen her back from her walk.

She was seated in one of the high-backed chairs surrounding the kitchen table, her head bent forward as though she was concentrating on something. He took in her appearance at a glance, blue shredded tank top, dark jeans, plain white canvas sneakers. Her hair hung loose, obscuring most of her face from his view, but he knew she was aware of his presence. He could tell by her slight shift in body position. It was almost instinctive on her part, he noted. She constantly seemed on guard.

Ororo, sensing being scrutinized, glanced up and noticed that Wolverine was looking straight at her. She inclined her head in greeting but said nothing, still working on her orange.

“Morning, Wolverine.” Jean walked to him. He grunted down at her. She kissed him, her tongue clearly visible in the exchange and Ororo almost laughed. The other woman was obviously trying to make it clear that this was her man. Cyclops dropped his spoon into his ceramic bowl with a clang.

“Don’t you have somewhere else you could take that?” he said darkly. “Some of us are trying to eat.”

Jean broke away, slightly flushed. She hadn’t meant to hurt Scott, she genuinely liked him, but when she had noticed Wolverine giving Storm the once over she wanted to make it clear who belonged to whom.

“Relax, Scooter.“ Wolverine growled at Scott, his gaze glittering.

Scott stood up. “I‘m team leader and I say no making out in the kitchen.”

The argument was ridiculous and Ororo was curious as to how Wolverine would respond. He simply turned his back on Scott, kissing Jean again. His broad back muscles flexed beneath his tight black shirt.

“Are you listening to me?” Scott demanded, shoving Wolverine in the shoulder from behind.

Wolverine let out a low growl, whirling with a -SNIKT-, the tips of three adamantium blades less than an inch from Cyclops’s chin. “Don’t touch me, Bub,” Wolverine snarled. Jean reached for him but his lips curled back revealing his fangs. A growl rumbling from his throat, causing her to fall back.

The room became deadly silent, tension and fear thick in the air. Ororo stood up, placing her hand on Wolverine’s arm saying lightly, “Thank goodness, I thought I’d be all day getting this damn thing peeled.” She stuck her orange right on one of his extended claws.

Wolverine looked at her like she had just gone insane. His lips still curled back baring his fangs, rumbling in his throat. Didn’t she realize how dangerous he was? Ororo stared at him without flinching and he saw it in her eyes, yes she did know, and she was taking a calculated risk, drawing his attention from Cyclops to her. Brave girl. Once again he found himself impressed by her.

He took a step away from Cyclops, retracting his claws, sending the orange to the floor with a thump. Cyclops, shaken, strode from the room, slamming the door as he went.

“Jesus, Wolverine. There was no need for that!” Jean exclaimed, racing after Scott.

“Remind me not to talk to you until you've had your morning coffee.” Ororo said teasingly, taking her seat again.

“If you’ll all excuse me I think I need to change my underwear.” Kitty stood up, walking through the nearest wall, anxious to get away.

Alison gave Storm a smile of approval before folding her magazine and leaving as well.

“You sure know how to clear a room,” Ororo muttered. She had hoped not to be alone with him. Walking in the woods while he was at a distance, she was ok with, but up close where she could see his steel gray eyes, his artlessly curved lips, the blue on black highlights in his hair. She found herself drawn to him and it was a decidedly uncomfortable feeling for her.

Logan took the seat right next to her, turning it so he was straddling it, gazing at her with his predatory eyes. He could hear her heart racing, her breathing becoming a little quicker. He reached down, picking up her orange. He held it out to her.

“Thanks.” She snatched it from his hand, looking at the back where his claws had exploded from. “Neat trick,” she said.

-Snikt- He once again extended three blades, slowly this time so not to frighten her. Without thought Ororo reached out, tracing the blades from tip to base, along the back of his hand and along his forearm. Wolverine’s eyes darkened at her touch. No one had ever touched him like this, with a mixture of respect and reverence. He felt his blood pounding in his head.

“See you around.” Ororo said suddenly. She started to rise, but he reached out, his large hand encircling her wrist. “What’s the rush?” Her pulse beat like mad beneath his thumb. He sniffed the air. She was nervous, he could tell. It seemed strange that she could face him down in confrontation but tensed when they were alone…

Running with a theory he stroked his thumb across the tender skin on the inside of her wrist. He heard her breath catch and she yanked her hand away. “I don’t like to be touched,” she said, stepping back.

Wolverine grinned wolfishly. “Oh, but I think you do,” he said huskily, his eyes knowing. Ororo said nothing, simply grabbed her coffee mug off the table. He watched her walk away with lazy appreciation for the way her hips swayed. As soon as she was gone Wolverine lost his smile. He’d better keep his distance from her, he thought. She was too much temptation and he couldn’t afford to get involved.

Xavier Institute
Afternoon
Back Lawn


Ororo hit the ground hard, her elbows jarring against the terrain. The mutant she had her legs wrapped around bellowed, and she tightened her thighs. “Uncle! Uncle!” he cried. Ororo gave another hard squeeze before she unlocked her ankles, releasing Bobby Drake from her hold.

“Good, Storm.” Came Cyclops’s encouraging voice.

She and a some of the other X-Men were behind the institute doing some basic grappling exercises. Shortly after breakfast she had found a package outside her bedroom door labeled: Uniform. She had grimaced when she opened it, revealing a garment of tight black leathery spandex with yellow trim. “Costumes,” she had said scrunching her nose. “Nifty.” Also in the box had today’s schedule. She would be training most of the day, which suited her fine. She was in no mood to deal with Xavier. He had been hovering around a lot the past few days.

“Yeah, good,” Bobby was muttering, rubbing his throbbing knees. The chick had friggin’ figure-foured him!

“Thanks,” she said, taking the bottle of water Cyclops was holding out for her.

“Okay, Kitty and Rhane, you’re up!” he commanded. The two girls stepped forward, one with brown hair and honey eyes, the other covered in rust colored fur. At Cyclops’s whistle they began circling one another.

“Where’d you learn a takedown like that?” he asked after a moment.

“A friend.” She squirted a stream of water into her mouth. Storm was going to ask him about the Danger Room schedule when she noticed Cyclops get ramrod straight, his jaw clenched and hands fisted at his side.

Glancing across the yard she spotted Wolverine and Jean Grey locked in a heated embrace. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and his hands were cupping her rear.

“Your girl?” She asked mildly.

“Apparently not.”

“But you want her to be.”

Cyclops looked down at her. “That obvious?”

“Uh, yeah.” She gave him a look.

“We were on our way to being a couple, but then he showed up.” He flicked his thumb in the direction of the oblivious couple. Now laying on the grass, still locked together.

Ororo shook her head. “Don’t blame him. If you really want her, her being with another man shouldn’t stand in your way. Besides, you‘ll never get a girl like her to appreciate you by being her beck and call boy.” She took another drink of water, watching the two girls scrambling in front of her as opposed to the two writhing forms across the field.

“Excuse me?” Cyclops didn’t appear amused by her terminology.

“I saw you at breakfast.” Storm said. “Getting her juice, buttering her toast. She has you wrapped around her little finger. You want Marvel Girl to notice you, then stop being around so much. She needs to realize you‘re your own man. Because obviously that is what she wants, Cyclops. A man.”

“What she’s got is an animal,” he countered.

Ororo didn’t reply. There was no point. Cyclops had his mind made up about Wolverine and that was that. She finished off her water. “I’m going to hit the showers,” she said after a minute.

“All right. Good job today.” Scott replied, still staring across the field. Why he tortured himself like this he would never know, but he always seemed to be watching them together. He flicked his gaze to Storm’s receding form and wondered if she were right. Then as she removed her black jacket revealing the tight black top of their uniform, he wondered if he should be keeping his options open.

Cyclops gave himself a mental shake. Storm was beyond attractive, but there was something about her that unsettled him, much the way Wolverine did. Whenever either of them was around he got the impression of barely concealed power, of careful control. Although Wolverine tended to lose that more and more frequently, Scott knew that Wolverine exerted control over himself more often than not, and he grudgingly respected the guy for it.

With Storm it was almost like she held herself in check. He wondered if she ever lost her cool, thinking of the events in the kitchen earlier. He doubted it. She was too much like ice. No, he liked his women warm and loving, not icy and reserved. He wanted Jean and no one else.

Ororo glanced over her shoulder as she topped the small hill heading back to the institute. They were still there, Jean leaning over Wolverine as he lay in the grass. She hated the feeling watching them together brought out in her. It wasn’t jealousy, although she found Logan alarmingly attractive, but instead it was envy. Ororo had spent her life on the run, never tied to one place for very long. She had only ever been close with one other person and she’d had to leave him to protect him from the danger that followed her. Xavier had promised her that he would help her, but so far all he seemed concerned with was her performance as an X-Man. Ororo was beginning to feel the familiar desire to be free, to be on her own. Turning away from the scene below she made her way into the Institute, her heart heavy with two different kinds of longing.

Xavier Institute
Early Afternoon


The sun was high in the sky, heat radiating from the yellow orb relentlessly. Ororo was lounging against the bark of a particularly shady tree, reading and watching the students passing her by. She had some down time between training sessions and was trying, albeit unsuccessfully, to relax. She closed her eyes with a heavy sigh, her mind wandering to earlier days when she hadn’t felt the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“You won’t make friends sitting over here all by your lonesome.”

Ororo stiffened at the mild voice of Charles Xavier. Not wanting to, but knowing the obstinate man wasn’t going to leave, she opened her eyes slowly, “I’m not here to make friends.”

“Perhaps not. However,” Xavier said calmly, “I sense a growing fondness in you.”

Ororo rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the heads up, Yoda, I’ll be sure to squash that.”

“Attachments can be a fundamental part of survival, Storm. I would not dismiss them so easily.”

Ororo didn’t respond.

“I think you can find the purpose you are looking for here, Storm.” Again she didn’t respond, instead running her hands back and forth over the grass, letting the blades tickle her skin.

“I know that it was a difficult decision for you to join our cause, but I assure you it is a dream worth fighting for.”

“Let’s not confuse things, Charles. You and I both know why I’m here and it’s not to fight for some idealized dream of human and mutant peace. You said you would help me in exchange for my membership in club X-Men and I expect you to hold up your end of the bargain.”

Xavier frowned down at her from his chair. “I expect the same of you, Storm. Cooperation is important, and that includes becoming an active member of the team. Make friends. I already sense a protectiveness for our Shadowcat, and a liking for Dazzler from you. Why avoid your fellow X-Men?”

She noticed he hadn’t mentioned Wolverine and that was a relief. She tried very hard to keep her feeling s for him repressed even from herself. So, she found him attractive, who wouldn’t. The man was unbelievably sexy, the danger radiating off of him almost palpable, so what? So what if he was the only man who had ever made her heart skip a beat, made her breathing feel difficult? So what if thoughts of him kept her up at night? So what. Right? He belonged to someone else, and even if he didn’t she couldn’t…

Ororo pushed her sunglasses up to the top of her head, fixing Charles with an icy glare. “You know why I don’t want to get close to anyone.”

He nodded solemnly. “Have you been able to sleep?” He asked after a moment, changing the subject.

“Not really.” She finally said.

“The neural inhibitors are not helping?” Charles questioned, brow creased.

Ororo shook her head. “They work fine. Different kind of nightmares,” was the only explanation she provided, “and don’t go prying,” she warned lightly.

“I would not presume to.” He held his hands up.

“Uh-huh. I don’t think there are many things you wouldn’t do to get your way, Xavier.” Ororo rose to her feet, picking up her previously discarded book. “Like I said, I will only be manipulated so far.”

“Storm, you owe me.” He said stiffly. “Do you remember how I found you? The condition you were in.”

Her teeth snapped together with an audible click. “Yes.”

“Good. Now, go make friends.”

Ororo glared at him. “Do not push me.” She strode away, but he had felt her resolve weaken slightly at the mention of her sorry condition a few months ago. She was still resisting his subtle nudges, still wary of him and everyone else. He frowned after her thoughtfully. Time to call in a favor.


Evening
Rec Room

Ororo strolled into the game room, her blue eyes resting on the green felt covered pool table. She could use a round or two. Word of the kitchen confrontation had spread quickly, and now people were even more curious about her. Her day had been filled with people watching her guardedly, whispering behind her back. One of the more bold X-Men, a young man named Warren with the face of an angel, and the body to match-literally, had come right out and bowed in front of her in that cheesy ‘Wayne’s World’ not worthy way.

Then there had been Xavier with his speech on being a member of the team. Ororo sighed with a mild grimace at the memory.

Currently a blue furry mutant, she recognized as Nightcrawler, was bent over the table, making a difficult trick shot with remarkable ease. When he stood again she watched his eyes stray over to where Kitty was playing ping pong with Bobby, a look of longing on his face. A crush?

“Nice shot.” She said approaching the table.

Nightcrawler looked around, and over his shoulder. “Are you speaking to me?” he asked surprised. His voice was gently accented German she noted.

With a nod Ororo confirmed that she was indeed speaking to him. “You’ve got some skill I see.” She tilted her head towards the table, referring to the shot he just made.

“A bit.” His glowing yellow gaze gave her a brief once over and his mouth thinned. He turned back to the table.

“What?” she asked, noticing his subtle disproval.

“It is not my place,” he said, lining up another shot.

“Well, I am making it your place. What’s on your mind, Crawler?”

“Why do you wear such things?” he asked after another long pause, looking pointedly at her shirt.

Ororo glanced down. She was wearing black capri pants with a long sleeved white shirt that had: Mutie!! splattered across it in crimson red. She looked back up at Nightcrawler saying, “It’s just a word.”

Nightcrawler looked away again. “It is a hateful word, that causes much pain.”

“If you let it.” Ororo said, leaning against the edge of the pool table. She got the impression he didn’t open up much, and she found she wanted to help ease some of the hurt she saw in his golden gaze.

“I was abandoned at birth because of the way I looked. Because of my demonic appearance. From as far back as I can remember I have had to hide my face in shame, stay in the shadows.” Nightcrawler said, almost angry. “It’s easy for people like you. You are beautiful and you feel you can mock us. It is not right, or fair.”

Ororo felt a slight twinge at his words, her own ire pricked. “I am not mocking you, Nightcrawler. Life’s not fair or easy, trust me I know. Nevertheless as cliché as it sounds, it is what you make it; and I for one refuse to let them beat me down with their hateful words. If ignorant racists want to call me a mutie, let them, I am one. I wear this shirt because I am proud of that, Nightcrawler. It is who I am. Do not think you are the only one who has felt the pain of harsh words. If I wasn’t called mutie, I was called nigger. Life sucks sometimes. It just does. That’s what makes the good things in it so great. The hardships we overcome help shape who we are. When you can rise above their petty words and foul turn of phrases and know yourself, and more importantly-like yourself, without the need of their approval, then you can throw their words right back at them.”

Nightcrawler was very quite, and Ororo felt herself blush a little. She hadn’t meant to go on a tirade, but she hated self pity, thinking it a giant waste of time and energy.

“An interesting point of view, liebling. Have you reached that lofty plateau of self understanding and like?”

“No.” She said honestly. “But I’m working on it.”

Nightcrawler smiled at that. He pulled another sick from the rack on the wall, tossing it to her with a flick of his pointed tail. “Do you play?”

Ororo smiled back, knowing she had just found another mutant to take under her wing. First Kitty, now Crawler, Ororo thought a little amused at her instant like to both of them. Xavier was right, loathe as she was to admit it, she was developing a fondness for these people. “Yes, though not as well as you. Maybe you could teach me a few shots, Nightcrawler,” she suggested.

“With pleasure. You may call me Kurt.”

“Kurt. I like it.” She rubbed blue chalk over the tip of her stick. “Oh, and, Kurt,” she began nonchalantly.

“Yes?”

“Whatever idiots told you that you looked like a demon were out of their minds.” She reached out, pressing one hand to his furry cheek. “You are beautiful.” And he was, she thought, with his silken blue fur and muscular build, mysterious glowing eyes and his dark blue hair falling over his forehead in boyish charm. He radiated sincerity and strength.

Kurt looked thunderstruck. No one had ever told him that, no one had ever touched him with such care. There was no disgust in her eyes, no unease at all. Instead, he could see deep concern in her blue gaze, and the offer of friendship She was unique, he mused, so unlike some of the others here who made him feel out of place, unwanted and ashamed, even though they were supposed to be fighting for the same dream.

“Your fur is the softest thing I have ever felt,” she said slightly louder than necessary.

Several heads turned in their direction, including Kitty’s, noticing Storm’s hand caressing Nightcrawler’s cheek, her fingers brushing his chin. Catching her eye, Storm said, “Come here, Kitty. You have got to feel this.”

The younger woman put her paddle down, walking towards them. Nightcrawler looked dreadful uncertain, but Ororo held his face in her hands, smiling a devilish smile. “You can thank me later,” she whispered.

“Hey guys.” Kitty said, stepping alongside them. She flashed Kurt a quick smile, and gave Storm an uneasy look. Having witnessed her stand up to Wolverine in the kitchen, Kitty was a bit intimidated by the other mutant. Not to mention that she was drop-dead friggin’ gorgeous, which all on its own was intimidation enough. Kitty’d had more than one run in with the beautiful and pampered Marvel Girl, not liking the way she had felt afterwards: Meek and inadequate, and Storm made Jean look like a daisy compared to wild orchids, or some other exotic flower, Kitty thought.

“Feel.” Ororo grabbed Kitty’s hand, placing it against Kurt’s startled face.

At first surprised, Kitty almost jerked away, but then realized how soft his fur actually was. “It’s like chinchilla!” she said in hushed awe.

Stepping away Ororo gave Kurt a conspiratal wink, and she swore he blushed beneath his fur. Smiling and humming Ororo made her shot. When it became obvious Kurt was too engaged with Kitty to further participate in their game, Ororo sunk the rest of the balls in rapid succession, pleased with her role as cupid.

Rec Room
11 p.m.

“You make friends fast.”

Ororo straightened away from the pool table, turning towards Jean Grey. They were alone in the rec room, most of the other students having gone to bed hours ago.

“You’re the second person today to comment on my friend making skills.” Ororo said blandly.

“Yeah, I saw you with the Professor earlier. And I see the way you hang on him, needing his attention, and now that fuzzy mutant kid. What’s the matter, Storm. Can’t decide if you like ‘em old or freakish?”

“Is there a point to this delightful visit, Marvel Girl?”

“You’re new, so I’ll spell it out for you. I rule this school.”

Ororo chuckled. “Is that it? Well, glad we got that straightened out.”

“You think I’m joking?”

“No, sadly I think you are very serious.”

“Let me make some things perfectly clear. Wolverine is mine. Scott is mine. Stay away from them.”

Ororo laid the stick on top of the table, crossing her arms over her chest. “Relax, Jean, I don’t want your men.”

“Like you stand a chance. I just don’t want to witness your embarrassment. I’m trying to help you, Storm. You will never be welcome here, and if you think you can fuck your way to acceptance you are sadly mistaken.”

Ororo took a sharp breath. This was getting damn annoying. She had tolerated the glares across the room. She had put up with the haughty glances. She had even tried to ignore the way Jean treaded all over the other students, especially the mutants not fortunate enough to pass for normal. But the girl was wearing her last nerve. “Look. I understand that you’re Queen of Mutant Central and the perfect little cheerleader for the X-team. That’s great. Just ducky. I don’t want your role, so back off, pom-pom.”

Jean smirked. “So long as you know your place, we’ll get along fine.”

“Know my place?” Her voice was whisper soft. “In about two seconds my place is going to be wringing your spoiled little neck.”

Jean took a step back. “I’m a telepath. A powerful one! I could give you nightmares that would drive you right out of your head.” She threatened.

Ororo felt a faint brush in her mind, like a spider web against skin. She smiled acid sweet, leaning towards the petite redhead, her eyes clouding white. “You wouldn‘t be the first.”

“Is there a problem here?” Dark, menacing growl.

“Wolverine!” Jean cried, relieved. “I was just giving our newest teammate some advice that will help her make her stay with us as pleasant as possible.” She cast Ororo a look that dared her to say different.

Wolverine materialized from the shadows in the doorway and arched one black brow at Storm.

Ororo didn’t respond, she hated this childish crap. Hated the way she felt right now. She just wanted to get away. She needed to get away. Wolverine caught her arm, his glittering black eyes holding hers. She shook him off, saying, “Goodnight.”

Once Ororo had left the rec room Wolverine glowered at Jean, who was slinking her arms around his neck. “What?” she asked innocently.

Wolverine removed her arms.

“Aw, come on, Wolverine!” Jean cried petulantly. “Let’s not let her ruin our night.”

“She ain’t ruining nothing’, kid. Yer doing that all on yer own. You seem to forget how good my hearin‘ is.”

“So I get a bit carried away. It’s only because I love you so much. Did you hear what people were saying today? They say she tamed the Wolverine. I couldn’t let that stand.” She trailed her fingers over his arm, along his shoulder.

“I ain‘t been tamed. Not by her and not by you, so stop trying, Red,” he growled pushing her away from him.

“Look, she needed to know the score.”

“And what score is that?”

“That you belong to me,” Jean said, instantly regretting the words leaving her mouth as he narrowed his eyes.

“I belong to no one, Jean. I am my own man.”

Jean laughed scathingly. “Man? Who’re you kidding Wolverine. You damn near took Scott’s head off this morning, all snarling and shit. You’re pure animal. That’s what you are. A fucking animal!”

“What in the world is going on in here?”

“Oh, Scott!” Jean flew across the room, throwing herself into his arms, sobbing prettily. “Make him go away,” she sniffled.

Scott’s hand rose to his visor. “We going to have a problem?”

Wolverine grinned. Since the onset of their relationship Wolverine had stayed with Jean for one reason and one reason only. It irritated the shit out of Scooter.

Not that she wasn’t attractive, because she was. Slender and feminine she radiated youth and he had been attracted to that. But she was far too emotionally high strung. Her rants and tantrums wearing on him, on top of her thinly veiled threats to leave him for Scott. He knew she was using him the same way he was using her. No love between them, just the occasional bout of mediocre sex.

“No problem at all, Cyke. She’s all yours.”

“Wolverine! Get back here!” Despite having demanded Scott make him leave, it was Jean who called out for him.

Wolverine kept walking.


Xavier’s Office

“That is the offer as it stands.” Charles said into the phone. “Yes, I can agree to those terms. Tomorrow is fine. See you then.” He replaced the receiver into the cradle before wheeling himself to the window. He looked across the courtyard, his mind seeking out Storm. Ah, there she was. He opened his mind further, picking up the remnants of her anger, a confrontation with Jean.

Xavier smiled slightly. Tough as nails, that one. He hoped his newly acquired employee would be enough of a reason for Ororo to stay with the team. Two weeks of negotiations, but the deal had finally been made.

He couldn’t afford to lose her. Not when so much depended on her. If this didn’t work he may have to resort to more extreme measures.

The Garage
2 a.m.

Ororo ran her hand along the sleek red paint of the Shelby GT. Muscle. Power. She smiled, practically purring. She loved automobiles, and they loved her. She had come here unable to sleep, her confrontation with Jean and a multitude of other things keeping her awake. She was desperately needing to unwind.

Just as she had suspected on her first day, the garage was full of gorgeous, expensive cars. She moved along the row of vehicles, her gaze appreciative of the beauties in front of her. As she moved closer to the rear of the garage she noticed a black tarp in the corner. Her mouth quirked up. Whoever the motorcycle belonged to may as well have painted a big sign along the side saying: Don’t Touch! Unable to resist, she grabbed the soft material, yanking it off, the fabric billowing in the air behind her.

“Oh my,” she breathed. The bike was gorgeous. Black and chrome, it’s body muscular and sleek at the same time. No vroom-vroom crotch rocket, or some bulky hunk of machinery, but instead a steel animal. Ferocious and wild. Instantly she knew who the bike belonged to.

Ororo grabbed the handle bars, swinging her leg over the seat, loving the way the worn leather felt. She shifted her body against the seat, getting a feel for it.

From the shadows Wolverine made a soft sound half growl, half groan. He had been watching her for several minutes now, surprised that she hadn’t noticed his presence as she usually did. She had instead been infatuated with the cars, her slender fingers trailing along their bodies almost lovingly, reminding him of the way her fingers had caressed his arm. She shifted again, the hem of her long, diaphanous, white nightdress riding up her thighs. Another growl built in his chest.

Wolverine moved silently across the garage, swift and sure, until he was directly behind her. She was leaning back, her eyes closed, arms extended out in front of her, and he took the opportunity to gaze at her face unguarded. Smooth skin, dark lashes casting shadows on gently rounded cheeks, straight nose, and the fullest, most delectable mouth he had ever laid eyes upon. So much for staying away from her, he thought, not without some humor. He could no more prevent his being drawn to her than he could prevent the sunrise.

She stiffened suddenly and he knew she had finally sensed him. Without turning Ororo said, “You’re a sneaky devil, aren’t you?”

Wolverine chuckled. “The same could be said for you, darlin’.” He moved so that he was standing in front of her. He had changed from the last time she had seen him from his black tee and pants into a faded denim jacket over a white shirt, well worn jeans and a cowboy hat, looking unbearably sexy. Ororo smiled at the hat. She hadn’t pegged him as the cowboy hat wearing type.

She swung herself off his bike. “Sorry.” She said.

“Yer up late.”

“Early.”

“Whatever.”

“I don’t sleep much,” she confessed.
Wolverine nodded, thinking of the nightmares that plagued him. Surprising himself Logan said, “Wanna go fer a ride?”

No.No.No.No.No. “Yes.”

Wolverine gave her a wolfish smile. He pulled off his jacket handing it to her.

“No thanks.”

“It’s a chilly night.”

“I don’t get cold.” She shrugged. “Part of my gift-- built in thermo stasis.”

Wolverine couldn’t resist, he leaned a little closer, his white teeth gleaming in the dark. “How about hot, ‘Ro? Do you ever get hot?”

Ororo swallowed hard. Good heavens the man was sexy. She didn’t reply, she couldn‘t, her heart was hammering too hard to hear herself think. Wolverine must have sensed that she wasn’t going to respond because he chuckled under his breath, mounting the motorcycle.

“Hop on.”

The night was beautiful. Clear black sky with countless stars, the air clean and fresh. Wolverine gunned the engine, sending him and his companion roaring down the drive of the Xavier Institute. The wrought iron gates opened as they approached, their sensors indicating his approach, but it was a narrow fit at the speed he was traveling.

Ororo turned her head, seeing a small sliver of white material waving from the gate. A piece of her nightdress, she realized, caught on the still yawning barricade. The man liked to live on the edge, she thought with a smile.

Wolverine felt her arms squeeze him tighter and he thought perhaps he was frightening her. Suddenly she leaned up, laughter mixed with her smoke on satin voice. “Drive faster!” Then she released him, leaning back, arms spread wide, her hair billowing behind them like a glowing banner in the night.

Wolverine grinned, pushing his machine even further. They rode for hours, going nowhere, enjoying the scenery, the night sky, that was slowly turning pink in anticipation of the suns warm embrace, and each other. Occasionally he would feel her lean her head against his back, her arms sliding around his waist, and he would smile. He had never taken anyone out on his bike before, and he was suddenly very thankful that this woman was the first, and probably the only.

He pulled to a stop atop a remote cliff, overlooking the city. Ororo climbed off the back, stretching her arms high over her head, arching her back. One corner of his mouth turned up as he stared at her, the material of her nightdress virtually sheer in the early dawn.

Ororo breathed deep. Wow. What a place. She loved the view of the city, and right behind her were several large trees, blocking the area from the road. She doubted anyone but Wolverine would drive that narrow and very sheer incline to reach this spot.

“Come up here often?” She asked, running her fingers through her wind tangled hair.

“Not as often as I’d like.”

She walked over to the edge of the cliff. “The view is magnificent.”

“Yes.” He was right behind her now, his hot breath tickling her ear. Ororo jumped a little. “What’s the matter, darlin’? Worried I’ll push ya?”

He was a little too smug, she decided with an internal smirk. She took a large step forward over the edge, freefalling. “Storm!” He tried to grab her arm, his hands closing on empty air.

“What?” She asked mildly, floating up until she was a few feet away from him in open air.

“Fuckin’ flyer.” She heard him mutter.

“Not really. More of a rider,” she said. “Here, let me show you.” Ororo concentrated, pulling him towards her with a powerful wind.

“Hey, hey!” Wolverine said as his feet were taken out from under him and he was pulled out alongside of Storm.

“I’m heavy,” he said. “Three hundred pounds worth of adamantium here, darlin’.”

“Hm.” She pushed him up with a mental command, buoying him like he weighed no more than a balloon.

“Okay, you’re strong. Now, put me back down.”

“Afraid?”

“No. It’s just that me and heights ain’t the best of friends.”

“All right.” Ororo pushed him back onto the cliffs edge, following.

“I didn’t know you could fly.”

“Ride.”

“Whatever.”

She shrugged, walking away from him, saying over her shoulder, “There are lots of things you don’t know about me, Logan.”

God, he liked the way his name sounded coming from her mouth. “I’m eager ta learn.” He moved towards her, his eyes taking on a predatory gleam.

Ororo unconsciously backed away until she was pressed against one of the large trees she had noticed on their arrival. Wolverine pursued her until he was directly in front of her, steel eyes turning black. He leaned in close and…sniffed her. Ororo raised one eyebrow. Instinctively she knew, just KNEW he would never hurt her so she tilted her head, giving him better access.

She smelled so right. Wolverine leaned his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling again. She sighed. No fear. None at all. He was so close, eyes practically feral he knew because of the desire raging just under his skin, but she showed no fear.

“’Ro.” He nuzzled her throat, his days growth stubble scratching her tender skin.

“Logan,” she breathed.

-SCHUNKT- Six blades pierced the wood on either side of her head, imprisoning her. She blinked, lips parting on a soft gasp.

Wolverine leaned forwards, his firm lips teasing her pouty ones, brushing like butterfly wings. Ororo sighed, her hands threading through his surprisingly soft ebony hair. He deepened the kiss, pressing himself flush against her, rubbing himself along her body.

Ororo’s eyes widened. Oh, my! She moaned as his tongue pushed past her lips and teeth, entering the cinnamon recess of her mouth. He stroked, cajoled and teased her with his mouth, his low growls intoxicating. “Logan,” she sighed as his mouth trailed her chin, finding the dimple along her collarbone.

“’Ro.” He rumbled. Wolverine retracted his claws, sprinkling bark chips along their shoulders. He needed to touch her. Running his hands along her sides, cupping her breasts. He could feel her nipples harden beneath the thin material of her nightdress.

Ororo’s eyes flew open. Goddess! What in the name of the Bright Lady was she doing? She turned her head, breaking their kiss.

“Darlin’?” He was breathing heavy, his broad chest moving in and out beneath her hands.

“I apologize, Wolverine. That should not have happened.”

“Why not? You wanted it just as much as I did.” His tone was defensive.

“I’m not denying that,” she smiled. “I find you incredibly attractive. I wouldn’t lie to you about that. But I am not in the habit of.. Of..” she waved her hands, indicating their compromising position.

Wolverine chuckled. “We could make it a habit.”

“And Jean?”

“Over.”

Ororo blinked. Oh, what the-- No way she was going to be some guy’s rebound chick. “Sorry, Logan. I don’t do the consolation prize routine.”

Dark eyebrows furrowed. “Consolation prize?” It took him a moment, but he got it. “Ororo, you’re the goddamn grand prize trip for two to Jamaica, baby.”

“Uh-huh. Did I become grand prize by default?”

“You’re an persistent little wench, aintchya.”

His jacket started beeping before she could answer.

“What‘s that?” She pointed at the black and silver circle device he pulled out. It was engraved with a large red X.

“This? This means it’s time to go to work, Storm.”

“Sure, anything to get out of answering.“

Wolverine tensed and Ororo thought maybe she had upset him, but when he placed his hand to his temple, she heard a voice in her head and knew the others were hearing it to. *To the War Room, X-Men.*

War Room

“Sentinels.” Cyclops said, voice hard, as the team watched the big screen television in the War Room. Onscreen large robotic monstrosities were wrecking a small portion of a distant city, their eyes glowing and laser beams shooting from their hands. Their targets clearly a small group of mutants, hiding out in the abandoned buildings of an old neighborhood.

Around the long dark table the X-Men stood, suited up, staring at the horrific scene in seething anger. Wolverine let out a fierce snarl. “What the fuck are we waiting for?”

“Cyclops, Marvel Girl, Storm, Wolverine, Colossus, and Nightcrawler, head out! Beast, Warren and I will monitor you from here.” Xavier commanded. He pushed a button and the dark oak table top slid back revealing com-link communicators. Each of them grabbed one, pushing in the earpiece, checking frequencies.

“Me too!” Kitty exclaimed. She was shaking slightly, but determined.

“And me!” Bobby stood up.

“If you feel you are ready,” Xavier said. “Listen to Cyclops, follow his command.” They nodded in unison. “Go then, my X-Men!”

“All right!” Bobby exclaimed his body becoming blue-gray ice.

“Let’s move!” Cyclops ordered. He was a completely different person when in charge of his team Ororo noticed. No pushover here, just a solid commander. She was impressed.

Marvel Girl flicked her a look and Storm got the distinct impression she had picked up that last thought. Oh, well.

As the team raced from the room, Ororo hung back for a moment. “Sentinels?”

“Government weapons created for the eradication of the mutant species. I am sorry that you have not had the chance to train properly against them Storm. But there is no time, the team needs you.”

She turned to leave, but Xavier halted her with his next words. “Don’t hold back, Storm.”

With one last look over her shoulder at the screen Ororo followed the team out, her mouth a grim line of determination.

“All set, darlin’?” Wolverine asked as she caught up with them.

“All set.”

The Black Bird Hanger

“Holy shit.” Iceman said inside the jet. Being an underclassman he had never seen the Black Bird up close, only as it launched from beneath the basketball courts, screaming into the air.

“She’s a piece of work. Forge outdid himself on her.” Marvel Girl replied telekinetically opening the bay doors.

“Ready?” Cyclops flicked several overhead switches.

“Let’s roll.”

The Jet flamed to life, leaving the hanger and the Institute far behind in a matter of seconds. The only evidence of their departure the sonic boom that followed in their wake.

They were only in the air for twenty minutes, covering an unbelievable amount of ground in their supersonic jet. The scene that greeted the X-Men when they reache their destination was horrific. Several bodies already littered the sidewalks and streets. People were screaming trying in vain to escape the Sentinel onslaught.

“Mien Gott!” Exclaimed Nightcrawler.

Cyclops descended quickly, no time for a smooth landing, jarring the occupants of the plane as the wheels hit pavement.

“Next time, I drive,” Marvel Girl said, unbuckling her seatbelt.

“Move people!” Cyclops ordered, opening the hatch. The team dispersed immediately, looking for survivors and the injured.

Ororo followed Kitty, concerned for how pale the girl had become already. She placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “All right?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.”

“I hear you,” Storm said sympathetically.

“Heads up!” Cyclops’s warning came as a large piece of building came tumbling down, directly over Kitty and Storm. Shadowcat reached out, wrapping her hands around Storm’s wrist and squinting her eyes shut, phasing them both through the bricks.

“Thanks.” Storm pulled Kitty away from the wreckage. “Nice job, Kitten. I owe you.”

“Storm! Do you think you can take one of those things out with a bolt or something?” Wolverine asked. He was carrying a small girl on one shoulder and two little boys on another.

"I could probably take out several, but dropping them puts these people in danger. Clear the way for me, Wolverine, and I’ll serve them up to you on a steaming platter.”

“Nightcrawler, check the alleys, Colossus, take the burning buildings. Kitty and Iceman, help Marvel Girl with the wounded. Go!” Cyclops ordered.

Within minutes the X-Men had cleared the block. “Let’s go!” Cyclops started back towards the jet.

“We’re just gonna leave those monsters?” Kitty cried watching as one of the large machines stomped into a building.

“We get these people to safe--” Cyclops was thrown by a red laser, the Sentinels now noticing them. They should have been cloaked still!

“Professor?” Marvel Girl asked into her comm, her heartbeat accelerating. They were coming straight for them.

“I do not know what happened. The Black Birds cloaking device is down, you are vulnerable!”

“Cyclops! Cyclops!” Storm rushed to his side. “Nightcrawler!”

*BAMF*

“Get him on the jet!”

“Ja.”

*BAMF*

“Wolverine. How far away are you?”

“I’m close. What’s wrong?”

“Cyclops is down, the Sentinels know we’re here.” A laser tore through the building to her right. She ducked as debris rained down.

“Storm!”

“Get here!” she demanded. “Colossus, when Wolverine gets here, grab him!”

“Huh?”

“Just do it.”

“Who put you in charge?” Jean demanded.

“We don’t have time to argue. You need to get back to the jet, get it started and be ready to fly.” Storm took to the air.

“I don’t think I should be taking orders from--”

“Don’t think! Just get it done! Now!” She flew straight towards the four towering monstrosities walking towards them with steps that shook the ground. *Charles, what have you dragged me into?*

“Got him!” Came Colossus over the comm.

“Two words big guy. Cannon Ball!”

From the ground Wolverine grinned. Damn! She was brilliant!

“Cannon ball?” Colossus looked at Wolverine.

-SNIKT- “Cannon ball.”

Colossus hurled Wolverine through the air, slamming the adamantium laced man against the chest of the nearest Sentinel. Wolverine snarled, his blades sinking deep as he let himself slide down the metal behemoth to the ground, effectively slicing the thing open.

“Iceman! I need a wall!” Storm said, flying backwards to avoid the lasers directed at her.

“On my way!”

“Nightcrawler, get Shadowcat!”

“I’m here, Storm,” came Kitty. “What can I do?”

Storm lowered herself to the ground. “I know it was you who shorted the cloaking device.”

“It was an accident!” Kitty cried. “It just happens when I phase, I screw things up.”

“I know. I’m counting on it.”

Kitty’s eyes doubled in size.

“Are you up for it?” Storm asked. “Because I know you can do it.”

“No. Yes. Yes.” Kitty frowned, determination on her pretty face.

“Good girl.” Storm turned to Nightcrawler. “Take her up there. Be there when she comes out. Do not leave her.”

“I would never.” Kurt said with genuine feeling.

“Good. Go guys!”

“Two down, two to go.” Storm muttered as the Sentinel Kitty phased through went down. “Clear out!” Storm commanded. “Get them out of here, Marvel Girl!”

“We can’t leave her!” Iceman said as Colossus rushed him towards the jet.

“Relax, kid, I think Storm can handle herself just fine.” Wolverine said noticing the sky darkening overhead. Rain began to pour from the sky. “Move, Jeannie!”

The plane roared, screaming into the sky. Ororo held her hands up to the heavens. KrakkaBOOM! Bolt after bolt streaked from the sky, crashing through the remaining two sentinels, one’s head coming clean off.

From the ground, several miles away

“General?”

“That was him. Follow them. Bring him in.”

“Storm!” Kitty exclaimed as Ororo came into view beside the plane. “She’s flying!”

“Ridin’.”

Jean turned her head. “What was that, Wolverine?”

“Nothin’. How about you open the doors.” He suggested.

With a flick the side panel of the Black Bird opened up, allowing Storm inside.

“Holy crap!” Bobby shouted. “We just took on four Sentinels and won! Holy Crap!”

Relieved laughter filled the cabin. “Some first mission. Ya done good,” Wolverine said with a wink.

Jean snorted. “So in a fight you can make it rain. Wow.” Her voice dripped sarcasm. “I’m impressed.”

Kitty looked at Bobby and Nightcrawler, waiting for Storm to turn away, crushed like everyone else that Jean attacked did.

“I have a small list of people I try to impress, pom-pom. And surprise, surprise, you aren’t on it.”

Wolverine laughed throatily. He really liked having her around.

Xavier Institute
Auditorium

“This is the reason we train every day,” Xavier said, pointing to a large flat-panel screen that was showing the early morning battle between the X-Men and Sentinels. His gaze moved over the crowd of students seated in the fishbowl shaped auditorium, his face very serious. Beside him Scott Summers stood, clicking the projected screen images.

Several of the students leaned forward in awe, and others shrunk back in their seats, fear written all over their young faces.

“Nothin’ like an early morning’ pep talk,” Alison Blair muttered, looking at her nails, her feet propped against the seat in front of her.

Ororo who was seated beside her smiled, thinking much the same thing. Upon entering the auditorium she had automatically sought out Wolverine. He was seated on the stage behind the Professor, next to Jean. Ororo grit her teeth as Jean leaned over, saying something in his ear.

Surprised by her own response Ororo took a deep breath. She wasn’t the jealous type, so why be bothered by Wolverine and Jean. It would be better all around if she stayed away from him, anyway, she mused. He was dangerous, in more ways than one. After this morning Ororo knew in no uncertain terms that she was falling for him, and falling hard. That couldn’t happen. It was just too risky.

“These Sentinels, are a very real and dangerous threat.” Charles continued. “Combined with government actions against us, civil groups like the Friends of Humanity and Mutant activists like Magneto, being an X-Man is a difficult task, one that requires hard work, diligence and perseverance.” He paused taking a sip of water.

“Good leadership is the key to making the training and the team as dynamic as possible. With our ever growing student population the role of leader can be increasingly difficult and hard to manage. That is why I have decided to divide the X-Men into two teams.”

A hush fell over the student body, all eyes now on Xavier. Divide the team?

Scott looked taken aback, his head snapping towards the Professor. “Sir?”

Charles continued as if Scott hadn’t spoken. “A leader is someone who thinks quickly, acts with instinct and doesn’t question themselves. A good leader puts the team first, themselves second, and for her selfless acts and outstanding performance in the face of overwhelming odds, it is my great pleasure in announcing that Storm shall be taking leadership of the X-Men Black team.”

Ororo’s head jerked up. “What?” she said aloud.

“What?!” Jean cried from the stage.

“Storm, please come down here.” Xavier said.

Storm strode down the slanted aisle towards the stage, her teeth grinding in her effort not to cuss. Once she ascended the small set of stairs Charles took her hand, presenting her with a black pin shaped like a giant X, very similar to the red one Scott wore. The students applauded and Ororo glared.

*You manipulative…*

*Storm, such language.*

*I don’t want this.*

*But they need you.* There was finality in that message and Ororo frowned.

Turning back towards the students Xavier said, “I need the Senior and Junior members to stay, the rest of you can return to your classes, you will be notified via e-mail as to your team. Have a good day.”

Shuffling feet and murmurs as the students filed out of the auditorium, some casting Storm strange glances, others smiling in congratulations. Once most of the student body had cleared Xavier motioned the remaining students forward.

“Since Cyclops has seniority I will allow him to pick his core team first. I will divide the remaining students accordingly after both core‘s have been decided.”

“But, Professor,” Scott began.

“If you would rather, Storm can have first pick.”

Cyclops looked away, shoulders stiff. “Jean.” he said immediately. He paused, considering, then “Beast,” another pause. “Colossus, Iceman, and…um..” With great reluctance, “Wolverine.” With his decision made Cyclops excused himself, noticeably irritated over Xavier’s decision.

“All right, Storm, you may choose your core.”

“Shadowcat, Nightcrawler, Dazzler, Angel.”

Charles blinked at her rapid fire answer. “You are entitled to one more core member.”

“No. That’ll do.”

“No room for one more, eh, Stormy?”

Storm whirled around. It couldn’t be! Her heart skipped. But there he was, leaning casually against the back wall of the auditorium, sardonic smile on his sensual lips, arms crossed, dark shades concealing his devil red eyes, a lock of auburn hair falling across his forehead.

“GAMBIT!!”

Wolverine watched with black eyes as Ororo flew, literally, up the aisle, throwing herself into the arms of the tall stranger, who in turn swung her around, laughing. Then he kissed her, mouth covering hers in a kiss that rivaled the best movie kisses ever seen.

“Wow.” Ali said, fanning herself.

“Oh my goodness,” sighed Kitty.

“Yeah.” Grinned Bobby.

Wolverine didn’t realize he was growling until Jean nudged him, her eyes gloating. “Well, well, well, looks like Storm isn’t a hardcore lesbian after all.”

Wolverine didn’t respond, his glittering gaze locked on the other man, who still had his lips pressed against Storm’s.

“Gambit.” Ororo took a step back, still holding Gambit’s hands, her eyes dancing. “How?”

“Da Professor called Papa.”

Ororo spun around, her face radiating joy. “You?”

“Yes.” *You deserved the reward.*

Knowing it was blatant manipulation on his part, but too overjoyed to care, Ororo smiled. “Thank You.”

“Ahem. You wanna introduce the rest of us to tall, dark and ohmygod?” Ali asked.

“Oh, of course.” Ororo blushed. She introduced the team one at a time. When she was finished she said with a brilliant smile, “And this is Gambit.”

“Pleasure,” Gambit drawled in his smooth as silk voice, capturing Ali’s hand and kissing the inside of her wrist.

Wolverine looked at Storm to see how she would take her man’s blatant flirting, but to his surprise she was still grinning from ear to ear, her blue eyes the brightest he’d ever seen them. Not wanting to see anymore of the touching reunion he stalked towards the door.

“Wolverine, where are you going?” Jean called after him.

“Danger Room.” he growled. Then, turning he said, “Coming?”

Jean practically squealed with delight. She gave Storm a triumphant smile and jogged after Wolverine.

Ignoring the pang in her chest Ororo smiled up at Gambit.

“What a day for you Storm. You fight a squad of Sentinels, become captain of the misfit mutants and Mr. Yummy here shows up.” Ali said, plopping down on the stage, her legs dangling over the edge.

“Yes. A very productive day,” said Xavier.
Smiling wickedly Ororo said, “That’s right, I am a team leader now. My first order of the day: rest up boys and girls, because tonight we celebrate!”

“Man, why couldn’t I be on her team,” Bobby grumbled.

Danger Room
Locker room

Wolverine rode Jean hard. She writhed beneath him, her fingernails digging into his shoulders as he accelerated his pumping hips, increasing his already dangerous velocity. They were laying on the slate gray tiled floor, her skirt shoved to her waist, Wolverine thrusting between her milky thighs.

He growled deep and fierce as another image of Storm rose in his mind. He didn’t know why it had bothered him so much to see her touching another, it wasn’t like he had any claim over her. Though he wanted to. His brain had screamed, Mine! Mine! Mine! When he had seen the Cajun touch her. And that visual was now burned into his mind. Storm’s arms around the other man’s neck, her mouth pressed against his. Seeing her touching another man with that tender consideration, a man she obviously loved had snapped something in him, igniting the beast

Beneath him Jean whimpered, not with lust but out of fear. Wolverine was enraged, his jaw clenched tight. There was no tenderness in him, no consideration for her. It was almost as if he were fucking her as some sort of punishment, as revenge.

Jean turned her head, an angry tear rolling down her cheek. She meant nothing to him, she could see that now. Part of her had always known that. But she still wanted him, wanted him desperately. Not because she loved him, she knew her heart belonged to Scott, but because he so obviously wanted someone else. Jean Grey, the Golden Girl of the X-Men could not let that stand. She left men, they did not leave her! Wolverine was a conquest, a prize.

He was shuddering on top of her, finding release without giving her any. When he was done he stood, buttoning his pants and said, “Tell Scooter I said hi.”

Jean rolled onto her side, miserable. What had she done? Oh, Scott…

Suddenly the locker room doors opened and Ororo strolled in, wanting to grab her duffel bag before she and her team got ready for their night out. Her eyes immediately fell on Logan, still righting his clothes and a disheveled Jean trying to sit up on the floor.

Before Jean could veil it, a look of acute pain washed over her face, instead of feeling the smug satisfaction she had expected to feel at being caught with Wolverine, Jean actually felt ashamed. She looked away, her tear streaks revealed as she did.

Storm glanced at Logan who was looking at her with the smug satisfaction that was missing from Jean’s gaze. “Sorry.” She said, turning around. Her chest hurt. “I just need my duffel.”

Her black bag slid across the floor, bumping her ankles. She bent down, grabbed it and walked out without a backward glance. She ran into Scott in the hall, heading for the lockers.

“Hey, Scott. About the teams,” she began trying to stall him.

“Don’t start, Storm. I know you’re Xavier’s little pet.”

Storm shook her head, but said nothing more because the doors behind her opened and she heard Jean’s startled gasp.

“Scott…I..”

Wolverine stepped through the doors next, his grin feral. “Scooter.”

It only took a glance to know what had happened behind those still swinging doors. “Mother fucker!” Scott let loose an optic blast, slamming Wolverine into the wall.

“Scott!” Jean cried. “Stop!”

Wolverine shook himself, rising to his feet, holes burned through most of his clothing. “That the best ya got, One-eye?” -SNIKT-

“Stop it!” Jean screamed.

“Otta the way, Red.” Wolverine shoved her aside, lunging at Cyclops. Scott dodged, narrowly missing being sliced wide open.

“Enough!” Ororo's voice boomed like thunder. No wait, that was thunder.

Wolverine glanced up from his crouched position to see Storm’s eyes cloud over, glowing like white fire. “Stay out of it, Storm!”

She placed herself in front of Cyclops. “Both of you, knock it off.”

Wolverine snarled. “Move or I’ll go through ya.”

“I suggest you use a diff’rent tone when talking t’ my Stormy homme.”

The occupants of the hallway turned to see Gambit standing in the corridor, eyes glowing red behind dark glasses, a solitary playing card in his hand.

“Gambit!” Ororo said, followed by Wolverine’s muttered, “Fuck.”

“Whatchya gonna do, Cajun. Cut me with yer card?”

“Somt’in like dat. You all right, padnat?”

“Fine, Gambit. Let’s go.”

“Nice friends ya got dere, chere.” The three remaining hallway combatants heard him mutter as he and Storm walked away.

“They are not my friends,” came Storm’s hard reply.

“Scott,” Jean said softly, her head bowed.

“Save it, Jean.” He walked away.

Jean gave Wolverine an agonized look. “I love him,” she said quietly watching Scott walk away.

“Jeannie--”

“Don’t Wolverine. You have used me for the last time.”

“It was a mutual arrangement.”

Jean nodded. “I know. But now, I’m done. If you even so much as think about me naked I‘ll have the Professor peel your mind like a fruit.”

“Ya feel better, Jean. Being the one t’ leave?”

She flipped him the bird.

Later

“You’re not wearing that are you?”

Ororo looked at Ali. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

Dazzler wrinkled her nose. “Nothin’ if you like looking like you’re a goody-goody.”

Ororo looked in her full length mirror. She was wearing a tan pair of pants and a dark red off the shoulder top with a pair of matching sandals.

“And you have a different suggestion?”

“For Club Hellfire, damn straight.” Ali grinned.

“Uh-huh. What would you suggest?”

Ali stood, circling Storm with a look of appraisal. “If I looked like you, well, let’s just say I wouldn’t be hiding behind baggy jeans and tank tops.” She lifted Storm’s thick hair, twisting it in her hands. “I saw you on the screen today. You are one badass chick. I would flaunt that. Don’t you agree, Yummy?”

“D’accord.” Gambit said from the bed, a devilish smile on his face. “Da Stormy I remember was much, much more feisty. And smiled a hell of a lot more den ya do now.”

“It has been awhile, Gambit.”

“Six years, padnat. Gambit not forget. We gonna talk, soon.” His gaze was serious despite the teasing tone.

“Okay, Ali.” A devilish smile of her own. “Make me bad.”

Downstairs

A sharp whistle pierced the living room and Wolverine looked up from the hockey game he was watching to see what the commotion was. When he saw what it was his beer slipped from his hand, slamming against the table and frothing over. “Jesus,” he picked it up, shaking the foam from his hands.

Ororo stood in the entry looking mind-bogglingly gorgeous. Her striking snow white hair was piled around her head in an intricate design, the ends, which were now blue, black and purple, were fanned out, framing her head in a multicolored halo. Her vivid blue eyes were outlined in black kohl, giving them a smoky bedroom look, and her full lips were lightly glossed, reflecting the light in an alluring pout. The outfit she wore revealed an abundance of creamy caramel skin. Her full breasts were pushed up by the lacings of her black and gray corset, the material tapering just above her navel, leaving her toned midriff bare to the low slung waist of her black leather pants. Large heeled black boots completed her look. Wolverine stared at her, finding his pants suddenly uncomfortably tight.

Silver bangles and black leather cuffs jangled on her arm as she pushed a stray lock of hair behind her pierced ears. He could hear her sultry laugh as she responded to Bobby’s whistle and Warren’s stumbling compliments.

“Looks good, don’ she.”

“Cajun.” Wolverine had smelled him approaching.

“Da name is Gambit.”

Wolverine slanted the man a narrow look. “Is there something’ I can do fer ya?”

“Stay away from Stormy.”

Wolverine’s lip curled. “Don’t worry, Gumbo. I ain’t gonna mess with yer girl.”

Surprisingly Gambit chuckled. “Stormy be a lot of t’ings to me, homme, but my girl ain’t one of dem.”

Wolverine jerked his head around.

Gambit’s eyes glowed. “I am very protective of my sister.”

“Sister?”

“Oui.”

A pause. “I ain’t never seen anyone kiss there sister like you kissed Storm.” Wolverine growled. Funny, but he couldn’t smell a lie on the Cajun.

“You know many people wit’ sisters dat look like Stormy?”

Wolverine snarled. Gambit laughed.

“We were raised toget’er. She’s my family.”

“Uh-huh. So, why the ‘brotherly’ warning?”

“You made her cry. You only get to do dat once.” Gambit walked away.

Wolverine watched Storm smile brightly as Gambit reached her side, watched her touch his cheek fondly. But he could smell no lust, no desire from either of them. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. If he had just noticed that earlier instead of flying into a rage. Damn.

Alison and Kitty joined them at the door, Kitty’s arm around the blue elf. Wolverine watched as they left, Kitty waving goodbye to him over Kurt’s head. All he could think as he watched them go was, she had cried for him.

Club Hellfire


Loud industrial techno music greeted the X-Men Black team as they entered the posh nightspot in downtown New York. Club Hellfire was an exclusive nightclub, it’s members some of the richest and most powerful people in the world, several of them mutants, thus giving the club a reputation for being dark and bizarre. Upon arrival, Ororo briefly pondered Xavier’s connection with these people, as they were let in immediately and greeted by name at the door.
“Mein Gott!” Kurt exclaimed, as soon as they were inside. He stood statue still, looking around the two story club. There were chains on the wall, glass tables and cages hanging from the ceiling, filled with beautiful, exotic dancers grinding to the music, hands wrapped around the bars or caressing their own flesh. One of the dancers swooshed her furry tail from side to side and blew Kurt a kiss. Blushing furiously beneath his silky fur he turned away.
“Told ya this place rocked!” Alison smiled, flashing her tongue ring. Her spiked hair glittered under the flashing lights and she raised her hands, letting out a stream of bright colors. “Hell yeah!” she hollered.
“Table or booth?” They were asked.
“Booth.” Ororo answered, her blue eyes covering the room, taking in every detail. She noticed a second story balcony that was shielded by reflective glass from prying eyes. Ah, so that’s where the big boys played, she thought with a wry turn of her mouth.
Moving between the men and women who were grinding to the pumping music and pressing provocatively against each other, Ororo and her team made their way to a corner booth, led by a large bouncer in black leather and tribal tattoos all along his bald head. “If you have need of anything, press the button in the center of the table and a member of the staff will attend you.” The large man said in a voice that rumbled like he spoke from a barrel.
“Thanks.” Ororo slid into the booth, still cautiously curious as to their preferential treatment. The bouncer gave her a brief, but appreciative, once over and Ororo felt her face flush slightly.
Ali smiled and winked at her, head bobbing to the music. “So whatdya guys think?”
“Gambit like.” He leaned back, grinning at one of the dancers as she bent over, her face splitting into a smile of her own, upside down, between her long legs.
“Behave.” Ororo laughed. She pinched his thigh playfully.
“Why?” He pinched her back.
“Hmm.” She thought for a moment. “You got me there.”
“This is waaay different,” Kitty said, looking around. She fidgeted in her seat, brushing a stray curl out of her eyes. She had been hesitant to come, certain they would turn her away because of her age, but she had been let in with the others easily, no questions asked. She glanced over at Kurt who was also looking around the room with a look of disbelief still plastered on his handsome face. Why had she never noticed how handsome he was before? Kitty let her eyes wander over Kurt’s sleek form, his dark shirt hugging his athletic torso like a second skin.
Sensing her eyes on him Kurt looked at her and Kitty blushed cherry red. “Very different.” Kurt agreed. He was not used to being in a place where he wasn’t the strangest attraction. But here, it was obvious that society’s standard oddities were not odd at all. Giving credence to that that thought, a leather winged bat-like mutant swooped from the railing, swirling in the air. “Too bad Warren did not wish to join us.”
“Yeah, bummer.” Ali rolled her eyes. “This really isn’t his kinda place. He‘s more the country club, tea and crumpets set.” Alison pushed the button on the table. Immediately a waitress appeared, her green lips parted in the pseudo-friendly smile of people who are paid to be nice. “A bottle of your finest.” Ali ordered.
“Finest what?” The waitress asked patiently.
Ali frowned. “Huh. Don’t know. Tell ya what, just bring us the most expensive drinks ya got.”
“With pleasure.” The waitress disappeared through the crowd.
Ororo raised her eyebrows. “Ali, what are you doing?”
“Celebrating. That is the plan, right, boss?”
Ororo looked at Gambit, beyond happy at having him back in her life. “Yeah, that’s the plan.”
Gambit smiled in return, then turned his gaze out across the dance floor, a wicked grin spreading across his supremely handsome face. “Come, padnat, it’s been to long since dis Cajun ‘eld you in ‘is arms. Let’s dance.” He rose quickly, tugging her arm.
“Hang on, Hang on.” Ororo laughed, maneuvering her way out of the booth. “Coming?” She asked the others.
“You bet.” Ali rose from her seat, stepping on the table top and jumping down beside them.
“Kurt? Kitty?”
“Uh, no I’m not much of a dancer,” Kurt said.
Kitty looked disappointed, but added, “I’ll stay here with Kurt.”
“No, Kitty, you should have fun. Go dance,” he insisted.
“I will have fun,” Kitty smiled, “right here.”
“Suit yourselves.” Gambit pulled Ororo into the fray of throbbing bodies.
Once on the floor Ororo immediately lost herself in the pounding rhythm surrounding her, her body moving like an extension of the music. She raised her arms over her head and Gambit pressed himself close, moving with her in flawless harmony.
Some things never change, he thought. The two of them so familiar with each other after years apart, like no time had passed. Then Ororo turned and bent, shaking to the beat and Gambit’s lips quirked. And some things do, he mentally corrected, noticing how nicely Ororo had filled out in their six years apart. No longer the long limbed, gangly athlete she was at sixteen, instead now she was a long legged, voluptuously curved woman with a body many would kill for. Her strong and lithe figure combined with her exceptionally beautiful face, startling blue eyes and the dramatic contrast of her snowy hair and brown skin made her quite possibly the most stunning woman Gambit had ever known. He chuckled a little at that. Leave it to him to turn the most attractive woman on the planet into his sister.
At a young age Ororo had confessed to him that she was in love with him and desperately wanted to be his wife. Even at her tender age of eight Gambit had found her hard to refuse, but in his twelve year old wisdom he told her that they were family, and family was forever, but marriages fell apart. Ororo had immediately decided she would much rather be his family, and had never again wanted to be more than his sister. And brother and sister they were, Gambit knew, in all ways but biological; not that DNA amounted to much, he surmised. He never knew his real parents, having been abandoned at birth because of his devil eyes. In every way that mattered Stormy was his sister, his padnat, and the best friend he had ever had. He still did not know the reasons behind her vanishing act six years ago, but he was determined to find out. He had been terribly hurt by her leaving, but she had left a note and that had alleviated some of the pain.
Don’t look for me.
I will be back for you, Remy.
On my honor.
I love you , brother. Be well and stay quick.
Stormy
As the years passed he had feared she would never return, and in truth, she hadn’t. It had been Xavier that had called Jean-Luc, not Storm. At first the leader of the Thieves Guild had dismissed the Professor outright, but Xavier had been persistent, telling them that he had something they were looking for. He had not revealed much over the phone, but a face to face meeting and a photo of Storm had sealed the deal. Gambit would work with the X-Men, until such time that Ororo left. Anything to have her back, Gambit had told Jean-Luc, and he had meant it. He would do anything for her.
“Why so serious?” Ororo asked, leaning close so she could be heard over the music.
Gambit flashed her his trademark devil-may-care grin and said, “Gambit is never serious, padnat. You know better.”
Ororo nodded, her solemn expression not changing. “Yes, Remy. I do know better.”
“Dance now, Stormy. Talk later.” He spun her around.
Ororo laughed. “You win.”

The Balcony

“What’s so interesting, Shinobi?”
Shinobi Shaw, son of the Hellfire’s Inner circle’s Black King raised one dark eyebrow. He slowly sipped his expensive Dom, looking at the dark haired female across from him with carefully calculated disdain. “My interests need not concern you, Tessa. You are my father’s confidant and advisor, I seek neither from you.”
“Yes, Shinobi, I am aware of your opinion. However, as you stated, I am your father’s confidant and he wishes me to keep an eye on you.”
“My babysitter? Tell me, Tessa, did he instruct you to see all my needs fulfilled?” Shinobi let his hand rest casually on his thigh, near his groin.
Tessa’s lip curled in a sneer. “In your dreams, Shaw.”
“Ahh, but I believe my dreams will not be of a woman I have mounted more times than I care to count, but instead will be filled with snow haired seductresses, giving me oral pleasure.”
Once again he gazed out the two way mirrored wall down at the dance floor below. Tessa looked away as the younger man began to rub himself through the expensive silk of his suit, his eyes never leaving the dance floor. Curious she walked over to the window and perused the floor. She found the object of Shinobi’s fantasy easily enough. The woman was damn hard to ignore, with her striking appearance. Tessa heard Shinobi moan as the woman below ran her hands up her own leather clad torso, moving to the music.
“Bring her to me,” he ground out, releasing his hard cock from his pants, stroking it furiously now.
Tessa snorted. “I don’t think so, Shinobi. In case your lust has blinded you, that woman is hardly alone.”
Shinobi looked out over the crowd again, watching as a tall, good looking man circled his snow haired fantasy, running his hands along her bare arms. He imagined himself as that man, his grip firmer on his flesh. His mystery woman smiled playfully at the man, rubbing her sweet ass against him as they danced. Shinobi came in his open palm, shuddering against his hand.
“Finished so soon?” Tessa asked scathingly, tossing him a napkin.
“Hardly. Find out who she is.”
“Why?”
“Because, Tessa, I believe I just found my new Queen.”

Club Hellfire
Balcony


“New Queen, Shinobi? You forget your place. Need I remind you that you are not the King of the Hellfire Club Inner Circle. Your father is. You have no rights to a Queen.” Tessa retook her seat across from him, lifting her ice water to her ruby red lip. She watched him with a mixture of disgust and desire as Shinobi cleansed himself. He was the most sexual man she had ever encountered, always wanting it, needing it and for years she had been only too eager to provide herself to him. But that was before he had become obsessed man he was today. His obsessive fixation on his father had begun twisting everything he did, including sex. Once Shinobi had realized his father was no longer sleeping with Tessa he had stopped as well, dismissing her as though she was a toy that he had grown tired of. She suspected that was, in fact, the case.
After many years of unrequited adoration Shinobi had given up on ever gaining his father’s approval, and now, Shinobi spent his time trying to find ways to bring his father down.
“Not entitled! I am entitled to whatever the hell I want, Tessa. And I want her!” Shinobi pointed out the window, his face a mask of controlled fury. “Make it happen.”
Tessa placed her water on the small glass table beside her plush seat. She sighed with weary patience. “I will do what I can, Shinobi.”
The handsome man smiled, running his hand through his black hair, immediately suave and charming again. “Good girl.”

Downstairs

Ororo pulled Gambit close to her. He smiled at her, their bodies moving in tune with each other. He was a handsome devil, she thought. But he carried none of the animal magnetism Wolverine had. Sure, Gambit radiated charisma, and sensual charm, but it was all very suave and subtle. Not like the raw virility of Logan. She shook her head, trying to get her mind off of him.
“Penny for your t’oughts, chere.”
“Hardly worth that,” she said with a smile.
“Woohoo!!” Ali slammed into them as a particularly loud and abusive song started. Her head thrashing to the hammering beat. “Shake that ass girl!”
A firm hand on her shoulder startled Ororo. She turned quickly, catching the guy’s wrist and locking it behind his back, slamming him into the floor.
“Hey, easy!” The man grunted. “I’m just delivering an invitation.”
Ororo released him, but watched him rise warily. Ali gave her a look, and Ororo said, “I don’t like to be touched.”
“You don’t say.” Ali smirked.
The man rubbed his arm. He gestured towards the stairwell. “Mr. Shaw would like to see you.”
Ororo inclined her head. “Who is Mr. Shaw?”
“The owner of this establishment,” the blond man replied, as if she was stupid for not knowing.
“Why does he want to see me?”
“I don’t know.” He was beginning to look uncomfortable under her direct gaze. “I was sent to escort you, should you accept his invitation.”
“Pass.” Ororo said, turning back to Ali and Gambit.
“Uhh, excuse me miss.” The man tapped her shoulder lightly, standing back as she turned slightly.
Ororo gave him an impatient look over her shoulder.
“It could mean my job if you don’t go.”
“Have I done something wrong?”
“I don’t think so. He was very insistent that he meet you, though.”
Ali shook her head. “The Shaw’s are a bad scene, Storm.”
Gambit stepped forward, one arm protectively circling Ororo’s waist. “She said pass, mon ami.” His eyes flashed devil red.
“O-of course, and I wouldn’t insist if-if it wasn’t so important to Mr. Sh-Shaw that he meet with you. He insisted.” Several bouncers stepped forward and Ororo sensed they were to reinforce the invitation.
Ororo glanced up the stairs to the balcony. The reflective glass had been raised and she could see a man standing at the window. He was tall, with dark hair, she could see. Dressed in an immaculately tailored suit. He raised his glass in salute, obviously watching her watch him. “That him?” she asked, not liking the way the man was leering at her.
The messenger tilted his head. “Uh, yes.”
Ororo smiled at Gambit and Ali. “I’ll be right back. Get Kurt and Kitty ready to leave.”
“What’re you doing?” Ali asked, one pierced brow arched.
“I would hate to be rude, Alison. I shall tell Mr. Shaw to his face to piss off.” She winked. “Gambit.”
“Yeah, chere.”
“Stay quick.”
Gambit winked at her. “Same, padnat.”

Balcony

Ororo was lead into the elaborately decorated upstairs by two large men, one in front of her and one behind. Once on the second floor she noticed several people engaged in various conjugal activities and she blushed furious red, both shocked and disgusted. What in the hell kind of place was this? She wondered. More importantly, what connection did Xavier have to it?
“Right this way,” One of the large men opened a door for her. It was a secluded room with a bed in one corner and handcuffs on a table.
Ororo turned. “I don’t think so.”
The bouncer shoved her into the room, slamming the door behind her. Ororo glared at the shut door, the only light in the room cast by several black candles.
“Please do not be alarmed.”
The man she had seen through the balcony glass strode through the door, locking it behind him. “I only wish to talk.”
Ororo gave the bed a look and raised one eyebrow. “How about we go sit at a table,” she suggested.
“Does the décor of this room make you nervous?” the man asked, stalking towards her. He held two glasses of champagne in his hands. He held one out to her, she shook her head. “I must insist,” he said.
Ororo took the glass but did not drink from it. “What can I do for you, Mr. Shaw?”
“Ahh, so you know my name, but alas, I do not know yours.” His voice was melodic, seductive, and chilling.
Ororo didn’t speak, just watched him guardedly.
“Relax,” he said. “You and I are going to be good friends, I can tell.”
“Doubtful.”
“Tell me, Mystery, and that is what I shall call you until you give me your name, tell me, have you ever heard of the Hellfire Club.”
Ororo looked around the room. “Aren’t we standing in it?”
Shaw laughed. “No. This is my playhouse,” he said. “The Hellfire Club is a group of mutants who believe in living to the fullest. We take great pains to ensure our entertainment and happiness.”
“Mmhm. So a club of rich snobs bored and playing with Daddy’s money?”
At the mention of a father Shinobi’s eyes narrowed and the glass stem of his champagne flute snapped, gouging his palm. “Do not speak of things you know nothing about,” he warned. Blood ran down his arm, staining his silk jacket.
Ororo’s own eyes narrowed. “What is it you want exactly?”
“You.”
The man didn’t mince words. Ororo shook her head. “Pass.”
“Are you sure?” He moved closer. “I sense greatness in you. You would make a fabulous Black Queen. I watched you dancing earlier. I bet you fuck like a dream.”
“Wow. I am more than a little creeped out by that, so if you do not mind I would like to get back to my friends.” Ororo moved to step past him.
Shinobi reached for her hand and she jerked away. “My card.” he explained, holding up a small black rectangle with gold lettering. “I am at your service, Mystery. Call should you want to continue our conversation.”
“I doubt it.”
“One never knows.”
Ororo reluctantly reached for the card hoping once she took it he‘d move aside and let her out. Shinobi snatched her hand with amazing reflexes, pulling her against him. She glared up at his inordinately handsome face, with slightly slanted eyes and dark features. He looked down at her intently. “Are you sure you must leave?”
“Very.” Ororo yanked herself away from him. Her tone was scathing as she spoke. “Men like you make me sick. You are far too cocky. You summon me up here and assume everything's going to work out to your liking, because -­ for you -­ it always has. You and your type string people along on charm, and on the assumption that people will do anything for you no matter what, because you have money or power or looks or some other completely asinine reason. You’ve got that rich boy sense of entitlement and it drives me crazy. I can not be bought, swayed or charmed by the likes of you."
Instead of being angry Shinobi smiled. She was beautiful angry, and he told her as much. Earning him another look of contempt.
“Piss off, Shaw.” With that Ororo’s eyes went white and she sent a blast of wind at him, punching him through the locked door.
Immediately Shaw’s security guards and bouncers rushed forward. Ororo grinned, leaping over the balcony, landing with catlike agility and racing out the front door, side-stepping two bouncers as she went, and discharging a bolt of lightening at the sprinklers, setting them off.
Ali hollered from the opening in the limo ceiling as Ororo careened through the front doors. “Holy shit! What did you do?”
Ororo was laughing too hard to answer, remembering the look of disbelief on Shaw’s face as he flew through the door.
Several people followed Ororo out, racing after her. “C’mon!” Kitty yelled holding the door open.
Once she was inside the car took off. “So, what happened?” Ali asked, leaning forward.
“Not much, he offered me a position in the Hellfire Club.”
“Yeah? Doing what?” Kitty asked.
“Him.”
Ali’s eyes crossed and she burst into laughter. “Are you serious?”
“Very.”
“That’s special.”
Gambit gave her a look. “Why do I get da feelin’ my ‘eadaches are just beginning?”


Xavier Institute

Wolverine waited silently in the shadows, watching as Storm opened the back door of the Limo before Winston could reach it. His heightened senses instantly picking up her fresh scent over the faint smell of alcohol that clung to the exiting group, and his gut clenched. He had wanted to follow them to the club, had almost gone, but a part of him didn’t want to bear witness to her and Gumbo all chummy. He grit his teeth remembering the way she had smiled at the sight of the Cajun. A man she loved like a brother, yes, but first and foremost always a man.
He watched with wry amusement as she grabbed Winston’s weathered hands in her own, her head moving back and forth to the music blaring from the car, several long tendrils of blue tipped hair coming loose as she and Ali jumped up and down, jostling the elderly gentleman. Obviously they had had a good time.
A moment later he spotted Kurt and Kitty exiting the car, engaged in what looked like a rather private conversation. Kitty looked a tad tipsy as she leaned against the fuzzy mutant. The two of them made their way directly inside the mansion. No sign of the Cajun. No, wait, there he was. Wolverine watched as Gambit lifted a surprised Ali from the ground, pulling her into a waltz along the pavement.
The sound of warm, open laughter tickled his ears, and Wolverine realized that this was the first time he had ever heard Ororo really laugh. Not the simpering giggle of a flaky teenager, but the full bodied laugh of a woman, and it made him want to be the one to cause that sound to pour from her throat, not the Cajun or anyone else. Him. He wanted to make her happy. Wolverine frowned at that thought. He was comfortable with the knowledge that he wanted to sleep with her, after all , she was incredibly attractive, his desire for her no big stretch for him. But he didn’t need emotional ties. He couldn’t afford them. It really would be best if he stayed away from her, he told himself for the hundredth time.
Storm turned suddenly, cocking her head as if sensing him and then sure enough she spotted him. After a brief hesitation, she gave him a small wave.
Wolverine was a bit thrown by her ability to always know when he was around. He had a reputation for being able to move within the shadows, getting in and out without being seen, but never with her. She always sensed him. He was moving towards her before his brain had time to register the motion.
“Hey.” Ororo said as he approached. Her heartbeat accelerated at the sight of him. Dark eyes watching her every move, dark hair standing around his head in disarray, lips curved in a sardonic half smile, and arms crossed over his broad chest. Typical Wolverine pose, she thought with a pang. Goddess, he was attractive.
“Hi.” He replied.
“Pardon me,” Winston said, excusing himself.
“Thanks for the ride,” Ororo said as he passed.
“My pleasure, Miss Munroe.”
Once they were alone, Ororo looked around. “No Jean?”
Logan winced imperceptibly. “No,” he growled.
“Oh.” Ororo looked towards Gambit and Ali, who were still spinning each other around the driveway. Look anywhere but at him, she thought, her heart hammering.
“Looks like ya had a fun night.” He reached out picking up one of her fallen tendrils, rubbing the silky hair between his fingers. Her eyes widened slightly and she took a step back.
“It had it’s moments.” Though, probably not nearly as much fun as screwing on the locker room floor, but yeah, it was fun. Ororo grimaced as soon as the words popped into her head. That wasn’t her. She didn’t act like a shrew, what was wrong with her? She had no claim to Wolverine, and had known of his and Jean’s involvement since her arrival. So they had kissed once, big deal. That didn’t make him hers. Even as she thought it, she tried not to remember how right it had felt to be in his arms and how safe.
She had meant what she said earlier, she did not like to be touched. The only person she tolerated was Gambit and that was because there was nothing sexual in his embraces. He would tease and flirt, but it was all platonic. It was disturbing to her how much she had enjoyed Logan’s touches. Despite his ferocity Ororo felt completely safe with Logan, and that terrified her. She could not remember a time when she had ever been safe and that feeling was far, far too tempting.
“Look, Storm,” he began. “I wanted ta apologize ta ya.”
Ororo blinked in genuine surprise. “For what?”
“Fer what happened…earlier.”
She looked at her feet. “Oh. Don’t fret, Wolverine. I’ve already forgotten about it.”
His turn to blink. “Ya have?”
“It was just a kiss. No big deal. No hard feelings or anything.” She forced a smile. “You shouldn’t worry so much. I won’t tell anyone.”
Wolverine growled, realizing she was talking about their kiss on the cliff, not his rendezvous with Jean in the locker room. “Look, ‘Ro--”
“Coming, Stormy?” Gambit approached them, a dark scowl on his face as he stared at Wolverine.
Wolverine had to give the guy credit, not many people would’ve had the balls to try to stare him down. “Gumbo.” Wolverine snarled.
“Gambit.” Ororo said at the same time. “Where’s Ali?”
“Still dancin’.”
“Alone?”
“She don’ mind.” Gambit was still staring at Wolverine.
Logan curled his lip, revealing a glimpse of white fang.
Ororo looked between the two men, her brow furrowed. Neither of them looking at her. Gambit’s eyes began to glow in his irritation. A low rumble formed in Wolverine’s chest.
“What’s da matter, homme. You don’ ‘ear so good?” Gambit drawled.
“I hear just fine.” Wolverine said, eyes glittering with predatory light.
Ororo was confused. Had she missed something?
“Apparently not,” Gambit said in return. He placed his arm across Ororo’s shoulders. “Come, padnat, we have much t’ catch up on.”
“Absolutely.” Ororo kissed Remy’s whiskered cheek. She gave Wolverine one last fleeting smile. “Good night, Wolverine.”
“Storm-”
She was already moving away from him, arms locked with Gambit’s, motioning for Ali to join them. Wolverine rumbled, pulling a cigar from his pocket and gnashing the end between his teeth. He stared after them until the three of them entered the Institute, his mind screaming at the animal inside for acting so hastily earlier, for fucking Jean again when all he wanted was Ororo.
He realized now that he had wanted to prove something earlier with Jean. To prove he didn’t care about Storm, that it hadn‘t hurt him to see her with another man. She was just another chick, same as the rest. Another one nighter at best, right? He growled. Yeah, right. He knew that now he had tasted her he would crave her like nothing else. He already did. He remembered the way she had melted against him, her mouth sweet and warm. She had looked at him so openly, no calculated innocence in her gaze, just honesty. Unlike Jean. Unlike anyone.
Being with Jean was easy. He could lose her with no skin off his back. She was a decent bedmate but that’s about as far as it went. She never got under his skin, never made a dent in the barricade around his heart. But ’Ro, was different, he knew. ’Ro had the potential to reach across the barbed wire barricade he had around his heart and rip it out, leaving it wounded and open. It was a risk he couldn’t take, had never taken.
He would be lying to himself if he didn’t acknowledge that part of him wanted to avoid being with her because of who he was, of what he was. The idea of hurting her bothered him far more than he cared to admit. No, it would be best for him to distance himself from her.

Loft

“Okay, padnat, time for some truth, non?” Gambit pulled his boots off. He was watching Ororo pull bobby pins from her hair, the thick mass tumbling down her back.
“I know you deserve some answers, Remy.” She tousled her mane with her fingers. She sat on the bed beside him, unlacing her black boots. “So, where should I begin?”
“How ‘bout wit’ why’d ya leave, Stormy? T’ought you were ‘appy wit’ Gambit.” Despite his easy drawl Ororo heard the veiled hurt in his voice.
Ororo’s eyes softened and she placed her head on his shoulder. “Oh, Remy, I was more than happy with you and Papa-Jean.”
“Den why?”
Storm sighed heavily, uncertain of how much to reveal. She decided that a watered down version of the truth would be safest. “You remember how I came to be with you, Gambit?”
He nodded. “Course, chere. Dat be da ‘appiest day of dis Cajun’s life.”
“Mine too,” she said sincerely. “And I am forever grateful to whatever fates lead Jean-Luc to Egypt and me to you. But before I lived with you, you must know that I was a slave to a monster named Amahl Farouk.” Absently she rubbed the back of her neck where she knew the faded scar of a burned off tattoo lay.
“I remember Papa havin’ t’ deal wit’ a man by dat name.”
“Well, Papa-Jean had commissioned Farouk for a job, and me being his best thief, was the one sent. I stole a Isis gem from a temple in Cairo. However, after the job was complete, Farouk decided to double cross the Guild.”
Remy laughed. “Not a smart t’ing t’ do.”
“Not at all,” Ororo smiled back. The guild was literarily thick as thieves and took betrayal very seriously. “Jean-Luc exacted the best kind of revenge. He stole Farouk’s prize possession.”
“You.” Gambit said, seeing now what he had not seen fourteen years ago. When his adoptive father had returned from Egypt with Storm he had simply told Gambit that he thought he could use a companion, and that she was to be adopted as well. It never occurred to him that his Papa may have been lying.
“Exactly. You and Papa-Jean became my family. I love you both so very much, and that was why I had to leave. I had been having some bad dreams about my time in Egypt and I knew that Farouk was close to finding me. I could not risk him finding me with you.” That was mostly true. The truth was he had found her, and she had run, not knowing what else to do. The things Farouk had put in her head, driving her nearly nuts.
“But, padnat, we could’ve protected you. Der was no need t’ run.”
Ororo shook her head. “You do not understand. Not only did I fear what Farouk would do to you. I feared what he would make me do to you.” She shuddered. “I couldn’t bear it if I hurt you, Remy. I love you.”
“And me you, Stormy.”
Ororo’s lips quirked. “About my leniency with that retched nickname…”
Gambit ruffled her hair. “You always be Stormy t’ me, chere. Even if you be da leader of da X-Men. You and me, together again.”
Ororo smiled, but her mind drifted to Xavier. He had sworn not to reveal her location to anyone, yet he had called Jean-Luc. She knew why he had done it, sensing her desire to be free. Now she was strapped down with leadership responsibilities and held to the team by her desire to be with her brother. Clever man.
“How is it you became an X-Man?” Gambit asked, breaking up her thoughts.
“Xavier caught me picking his pocket.”
Gambit’s mouth fell open. “You got caught, chere. Gambit don’ believe it.”
Ororo arched her brow. “The man is a psychic, Remy.”
Gambit laughed heartily, pulling her to him in a warm embrace. “Missed you.” he said into her hair.
“Not as much as I you,” she returned.

Xavier Institute
Westchester, New York


The afternoon sun was shining brightly and the sound of laughter carried across the expansive courtyard. The students were enjoying their Sunday afternoon. From his vantage point inside the mansion, in his bedroom, Wolverine watched as Storm and Gambit played basketball on the far court. She was pretty good, he noticed, keeping up with the agile Cajun. But it wasn’t her game playing skills that kept his gaze transfixed, it was simply her.
She had her glorious white mane tied back in a high pony tail, the ends still tinted multicolored. Her peach and orange sleeveless top clung enticingly to her body, enhancing her generous curves. Her smooth Egyptian skin was a delightful contrast to her white shorts, drawing his eyes once more to her long, shapely, toned legs.
Instantly, he imagined what it would feel like to have those legs wrapped around his hips as he drove into her. Would she cry out his name, the name only she knew? He growled low in his throat. He wanted her. Wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything.
His gaze became dark as he thought about recent events. In the week and a half since Gumbo’s arrival there had been a change in Storm. She smiled more frequently, laughed often, her eyes were rarely the dark shade of blue they had been on her arrival, now they were sparkling bright-- almost always. There were times he’d catch her gaze turned inward, and her eyes would darken to a deep, deep blue, filled with such infinite sadness that he wanted to immediately soothe whatever sorrow she had. But within moments she would shake herself and be back in the here and now, leaving him to ponder what it was that made her look so sad when she thought no one was watching,
It seemed to him he was always watching her. During training exercises, during meetings and during times like this. “Damn.” he muttered. She was in his system now, and he wasn’t sure how long he could fight it off.
Down below on the basketball court, Nightcrawler and Dazzler had joined Storm and Gambit, halting the game play. Wolverine’s mouth curved slightly at the dark blue t-shirt Kurt was wearing. In bright red letters the word FREAK was printed across the furry mutants chest. The shirt had been a gift from Storm, and many hadn’t understood it, but Kurt had seemed inordinately pleased with the gift.
Dazzler seemed to be delivering a message of some kind, and if the look on Storm’s face was any indication, it wasn’t good news. She tossed the ball to one of the younger students on the sidelines and spoke briefly with Gambit. The tall Cajun wrapped one arm across her shoulders and kissed the top of her head, eliciting another growl from the watching Wolverine.
*Wolverine.*
Wolverine didn’t respond. He hated being buzzed via his skull and the Professor knew it.
*Wolverine. Conference room.*
Grumbling under his breath Wolverine turned from the window, stalking into the corridor, causing several students to jump back and press themselves against the wall. Wolverine just scowled. It was Sunday, weren’t they supposed to have the day off?

Conference Room

Scott, Jean and Wolverine were seated at a small table in the center of the room when Storm and Gambit walked in, followed by Alison and Kurt. The tension between the three occupants was damn near tangible. Jean was glaring at Wolverine, who was wearing his most feral smile and Scott was sitting stone-faced, staring at the blank white wall as if it held some sort of fascination for him.
“Cozy.” Alison said, taking a seat and dragging it away from the table, leaning it against the wall, away from the others. Kurt stood beside her.
“Der you go, chere.” Gambit pulled out a chair for Storm.
“Thanks.” She sat, leaning her elbows on the table, watching Wolverine and Jean warily.
“Any idea what this is about?” Scott asked Storm.
“No.” Storm looked at Alison, who shrugged.
“Don’t look at me, I’m just the messenger.” She rocked back in her chair, winking at Gambit.
“Tease,” He grinned.
“Who’s teasing?” she returned.
The conference room door suddenly opened and Xavier wheeled himself in. “Good afternoon, everyone. Sorry to interrupt your day off, but something has just been brought to my attention.”
They waited expectantly for the Professor to continue. Once he reached the head of the table he opened the manila envelope on his lap. He took out several photographs, passing them down the table. Once everyone had one the Professor spoke.
“The young boy in the picture is named Adam Montgomery. He’s a sixteen year old mutant from a small town in Maine. Adam has the mutant ability to convert organic matter into nuclear-type energy. So far as I know, only on a small scale, but with a power like that the potential for disaster is enormous.”
Another set of pictures distributed. “I received a phone call thirty minutes ago from Adam’s mother, requesting assistance with her son. It seems he is having trouble controlling his powers and she fears for his safety given the recent anti-mutant sentiment and the sentinel attacks.”
“Understandable,“ said Scott.
“His safety is not the primary issue here, Cyclops. We need to get to Adam before someone else does.“ Xavier said, causing Storm‘s eyebrows to draw forward. “I need a small team of you to travel up to Maine for a retrieval.”
The choice of word retrieval as opposed to recruit did not go unnoticed by Scott, who tensed a bit. “When do we leave?” he asked.
Xavier rolled back from the table. “You do not. The X-men Black team is on point for this one. Red team is on standby.”
Scott’s jaw tightened. “If you’ll forgive me sir, I do not believe the Black team is ready for such an assignment.”
“Your opinion is, of course, valued, Scott, but from what I’ve seen in the Danger Room, Storm’s team functions much more like a unit. They work as a team. I can not say the same for your squad. Saying such, I believe a roster change is in order as well. Wolverine, you are now on Black. Warren will be moved over to your team, Cyclops. Perhaps this will improve your team’s performance.”
“Sir.” Cyclops rose stiffly. He knew the truth of Xavier’s words but he had been team leader for over two years, not two months, and it rubbed him raw that Storm was taking point on such an important mission. “I will alert the rest of my team to standby. Excuse me.”
“Charles,” Jean began. “You’re being unreasonable. Cyclops is a fine leader, and if our team is having difficulties,” she glared at Wolverine. “We’ll work them out. It’s stupid to split the teams even more.”
“You will address me as Professor Xavier, Marvel Girl. My decision stands. You have your orders.”
Jean’s mouth dropped a bit, but she rose and strode from the room without another word.
“Any comments from you?” Xavier looked at Wolverine.
“None.”
“Good.” He looked at Storm. “You depart in fifteen minutes, I suggest you get your squad ready to leave immediately.”
“You heard the man,” Storm rose to her feet. “Alison, get Kitty. Kurt, be a dear and tell Warren what happened so he won’t think we traded him, and Wolverine…”
“Yeah.”
“I lead. You follow. We clear?”
“Crystal.”
“Good, let’s move.”
“Gambit loves when you get all forceful, padnat.” He winked at her.
“Flirt.” She smiled, and Wolverine ground his teeth. He didn’t know which was worse, being on a team with One-Eye or having to see Storm all cozy with the Cajun.

Caribou, Maine

“This is the address.” Storm looked at the abandoned looking farmhouse and frowned. They had landed the Black Bird in a potato field a few hundred feet away so as not to startle the Montgomery family, but from the looks of the empty house, the precaution had been unnecessary.
-SNIKT- “Something doesn’t feel right.” Wolverine said, voice low.
“Should we split up?” Nightcrawler asked.
“No, we move as a unit. Gambit, flank us left, Wolverine, flank right. Crawler and Dazzler on my sides up the center, Kitty stay right behind me.” Storm said firmly.
The team made slow progress towards the farm house, cautious of any sudden movements. It wasn’t what was moving that bothered Wolverine, it was what wasn’t. He sniffed the air, but there were too many smells to distinguish which belonged and what didn’t. On the rickety wooden porch he said, “Let me go in first.”
Storm nodded. “Be safe,” she said as he passed her and he smiled on the inside. There had been genuine concern in her voice.
Inside the house Wolverine moved cautiously along the wall, sniffing as he went. He passed through the kitchen, noting that the fridge door was hanging open and the inside light was on. Electricity meant occupancy. He stepped into the living room, crouched low, moving below the windows. At the foot of the stairs he paused, listening. He heard faint scuffling overhead. He placed his foot on the lowest stair and heard a click. Fuck.
The sound of a helicopters, moving low and fast filled the air and his gut clenched. “Storm!” She and the others rushed into the house, and he was waving them back when an explosion rocked the house.
BOOM!! KA-BOOM!!
Mortar and wood exploded from the far wall, showering across the room. Wolverine instinctively covered Ororo, pulling her underneath the protective shelter of his arms.
“Maudit!!” Gambit placed his hands over his ears.
Through the smoldering hole in the wall soldiers dressed in black and gray fatigues stormed the building, weapons drawn, opening fire.
Wolverine unsheathed his claws, shoving Ororo towards Gambit. “Get her outta here.” he growled.
“Wolverine!” Ororo cried out as he took off towards the soldiers.
“I got this, Storm. But you being here puts me in one helluva predicament. Get her out! Keep her safe!” Wolverine ordered Gambit.
Storm stared, amazed as he ran through the smoke, and proceeded to tear through soldier after soldier. He was a killing machine, moving instinctively and unerringly through the debris, his claws finding purchase through the Kevlar vests, shredding tender organs, slicing through bone. She had never seen anything like him. The soldier’s screamed in terrifying agony and Ororo turned her head away.
Another explosion sent her and Gambit tumbling across the floor, flames shooting along the walls and ceiling.
“STORM!!” Kitty’s frantic cries reached Ororo.
“Kitten…” Ororo breathed, trying to peer through the smoke to see her team. She clutched Gambit’s still hand, hollering. “Ali?”
“Alive!” came Alison’s faint reply.
“Remy, are you all right?” She squeezed his fingers.
“Been better,” he replied, groggily shaking his head. “Why can’t we ever just ‘ave a normal day together, henh?”
Ororo smiled despite the circumstances. “Come on, we have got to get the others out. Kurt?”
“Ja?” His slightly accented German voice came through the smoke.
“Do your stuff, fuzzy elf. Get Kitty out!”
“What about you? These soldiers look like their on a mission!”
“Just Go!” She ordered.
After a moment. *BAMF*
Ororo frowned, Kurt’s comment giving her pause. These soldiers did look like they were on a mission. Not some random FoH attack or some anti-mutant militia, this was a well organized attack. She closed her eyes focusing on the sounds around her. Ororo could hear the soldiers making their way around the house, circling them. They were in a hunting pattern, trying to corner them, like one would a dangerous animal. “Wolverine.” Ororo’s eyes snapped open. They were after Wolverine she realized with sudden clarity. This whole thing had been a trap!
Two soldiers approached her and Gambit, their weapons drawn. Gambit’s hand slid across the floor, scooping up shards of broken glass. When the soldiers were almost upon them he flung the broken glass at them, charging the pieces so that the shards exploded into the solders ski-mask covered faces. As the soldiers fell screaming he turned to Storm. “Lead da way, chere.”
Ororo stood, hollering above the chaos. “My guys get down and hold on!” Blue eyes flashed white and with barely a thought a self contained hurricane swirled through the farm house.
Wolverine sunk his claws into the wooden floor, Ali leapt behind the kitchen bar, pressing against the wall, and Gambit clung to Storm’s hand. Within seconds the gales had slammed the soldiers against the walls with enough force to leave body sized dents, and simultaneously clearing the smoke from the room.
“Nice.” Ali said, limping over to them.
“Ali, you’re hurt.” Ororo gasped.
“Hey, shit happens.” Alison muttered. Her leg throbbed but she was otherwise unhurt and that was all that mattered to her.
Gambit swung Alison up into his arms. “No worries, petite, Gambit’s here.”
Ali smiled. “No worries, Yummy.”
“Let’s move!” Wolverine said grabbing Ororo’s hand and running towards the door. Gambit followed.
Once outside on the porch they were confronted by a line of soldiers and two very large tanks.
“Merde.”
“Wraith,” Wolverine snarled.
“Afternoon, Wolverine. You’re a difficult man to track down. What brings you to Maine?”
Wolverine bared his fangs, not responding.
“Would it be this?” Wraith pulled a young, frightened and handcuffed sixteen year old boy in front of him. He pressed a gun to the boy’s head, causing the boy to wet his pants.
“It’s all right, Adam,” Storm said softly, trying to reassure the young man as he sobbed, his eyes wide over the gag in his mouth. She stared into the dark brown depths and her heart broke at the terror she saw there. “It’ll be all right.”
“Storm, isn’t it?” Wraith asked, causing her to look at him in surprise. “You really believe everything will be all right? Don’t be naïve. That man beside you is a killer, a cold blooded killer. Do you know how many boys like Adam he has split open with those claws of his, how many lives he’s taken. Tell her, Wolverine. Tell her what fun you had working for us, what pleasure you took in gutting these kids.”
Storm was taken back by what the General was saying. She looked over at Wolverine, but his focus was entirely on Wraith.
Wolverine growled. “How about I show you how much I enjoy gutting? You let the boy go and I may let you and your men walk out of here, mostly uninjured.”
Wraith laughed. “I don’t have time for this shit,” He said, almost nonchalantly, pulling the trigger, dark red blood and grey matter spilling all over the ground, followed by Adam’s lifeless body.
“NO!” Storm tried to move forward, but Wolverine restrained her.
Wraith signaled his men to open fire, bullets spraying towards the X-Men. Gambit dove back into the house, rolling with Dazzler. Wolverine shielded Storm with his body, taking hit after hit, his life blood spraying across her face.
Wolverine was rapidly losing blood, his consciousness leaving and his adamantium filled body was slowly crushing Storm. She hooked her arms under his shoulders, trying to drag him into the house, but going nowhere. She was ready to collapse under his weight, when he suddenly threw himself off of her, heading back out the front door.
“Wolverine!” Storm screamed.
“Go!” He hollered back, his body once again being riddled with bullets. She knew he was trying to buy them time. He collapsed on the ground, scarlet rivers flowing from his body. Several soldiers ran forward, picking him up and putting his lifeless body into a covered truck, immediately leaving. Wraith waved at her, climbing into a lowering helicopter.
“Stormy.” Gambit called.
“Listen!” Shouted Alison. Over the roar of the winds and chaos outside the sound of a baby crying could be heard.
“Nightcrawler!” Storm said into her wristband, ignoring the fact that she was shaking terribly.
“Here. What’s going on up there?”
“Trouble with a capital T. I need you to bamf your furry butt back here, second floor. I think there’s a baby up there, but the stairs were blown out in the explosion.”
“On my way.”
“Kitty.”
“Yeah, Storm.”
“Think you can fly the Bird?”
“Are you serious.”
Rapid gunfire. The sound of more helicopters and the rumbling of several more tanks. “Very. I need you to fly the Black Bird straight at them, Kitty. Phase out and let her go.”
“You are insane,” Alison said in awe. “That’s a billion dollar plane.”
“Xavier can bill me.”
“I’ve got a different idea,” Kitty said, a bit hesitantly.
“I’m listening.”
“I can use the Black Bird’s on board computer to hack into their weapons systems and turn them against each other.”
“You can do that?” Storm asked.
“With my eyes closed.” said Kitty.
“Then do it.”
*BAMF*
“The baby?”
“I’m so sorry, leibling.” Nightcrawler was cradling a small form in his arms, tears causing dark streaks to appear on his furry face.
“Dead?” Storm’s voice caught.
Nightcrawler hung his head. Storm’s eyes glowed bright white.
“No.” She pulled the bundle from Kurt’s hands. Ignoring the gunfire and blasts still directed at the house Storm sunk to her knees, staring at the lifeless little body. She caressed it’s satiny cheek and leaned forward, covering its little nose and mouth with her own. She breathed and pumped for what felt like hours but was only minutes and her heart ached so much she thought she would die from it, but she kept going, shaking off Gambit’s hand, whispering a soft prayer in her native language. The other’s turned away, unable to look at the still baby in her arms. As Ororo leaned forward again, her throat tight and hope fading, a small hiccup escaped the little form and a pliant wail rent the air.
“Mein Gott,” Nightcrawler breathed. “You did it.”
Storm cradled the child to her, cooing. “It’s okay, shhh. I’m here.” She stood, handing the child back to a weeping Kurt. “Take her somewhere safe.”
Storm looked behind her. “Gambit, get me a vehicle.”
“Chere?”
“I’m getting him back.” Storm strode towards the door, bullets whizzing past her head. “MONSTERS!” she screamed, the winds picked up and dark clouds swirled overhead, funnels forming. The winds lifted the remaining soldiers and the tanks from the ground, hurtling them through the air several hundred feet. Kitty must have executed her plan, Ororo thought as one of the military tanks shot down a helicopter, then turned on the other remaining tank.
The roar of an engine caught her attention and Gambit spun into view, behind the wheel of a green and black jeep. “Move over,” she commanded, taking the wheel and sliding into the drivers seat.
“Wait up!” Alison dove into the open back.
“Kitty, call in X-men Red for retrieval. Stay with Kurt and keep that baby safe!” Storm said as she slammed the jeep into first, spinning dirt and kicking up gravel. “Hold on, Wolverine.” She said with quiet determination.
Gambit glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. He had never seen her look so determined before and realization hit him. His Stormy was in love. “Merde.”

Maine

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Alison asked from the back of the jeep careening down some random dirt road in the middle of nowhere, chasing a group of very pissed of military soldiers, who as Alison was noting, were taking great relish in shooting at them. Several bullets ricocheting off the front windshield, others kicking up even more dirt alongside the racing vehicle.
“Don’ worry, chere. Stormy know what she doing.” Gambit turned to the woman in question and in a lowered voice said. “Don’t you?”
Storm laughed. “Hardly. Hold on!” With a quick jerk of the steering wheel Storm narrowly evaded a large animal that plowed from the underbrush, apparently startled by all the commotion. “What the hell was that?” She asked, looking in her rearview mirror, watching the deer on steroids lope away.
“I t’ink it was a moose,” Gambit muttered.
“Heads up!” Alison cried, pointing ahead of them. Roadblock.
Storm smiled, gunning the engine.
Alison threw herself into the back seat searching for a seatbelt. “Damn.”
“Stormy…?”
“Gambit, you think they play cards?” Her eyes narrowed, her focus on the barricade in front of them.
“Dey gonna, chere.” He was already pulling a deck from his front pocket.
“What, we gonna engage them in a rousing game of go fish?” Alison asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Non.” Gambit’s eyes glowed. “Was t’inkin’ more about a quick game of war.”
“Gambit! Clear me a path!” With that Storm rotated the steering wheel sharply, spinning the vehicle so that Gambit’s side faced the road block as he released a barrage of glowing pink cards from agile fingers, explosions so forceful they rocked the jeep onto its side.
Crawling from the tipped over vehicle Gambit muttered, “Sorry, chere.”
“Not a problem, Gambit.” Storm was already up, racing towards the streaming smoke.
“Merde.” Gambit rose to his feet, pulling Alison up with him. She cried out, clutching her leg. “You are ‘urt,” he accused.
“Never said I wasn’t.” Alison shot back.
“Storm!” He called, but she had already disappeared into the smoke.
“Go.” Alison said. “She’ll need your help.” As the words left Alison’s mouth Storm came racing back through the smoke, shouting for them to “Get back!”
Behind her several Sentinels were marching forward, flanked by smaller whirring silver and black robotic creatures, that looked like wasps.
“Holy fuck.” Alison’s eyes widened.
“D’accord.” Gambit let fly with several charged cards, picking Alison up and running towards the trees to their right.
Storm leapt into the air, buoyed by her winds, soaring high, releasing lightening from her fingertips, charging the air with a dense electromagnetic field, the wasp-robots crashing to the ground.
Alison used their buzzing sounds to fuel her mutant powers, sending forceful blasts of light at the offending machines.
“Behind you!” Gambit’s warning came a fraction of a second too late as a gigantic sentinel hand clamped around Storm.
Storm smiled widely into the optical camera she was sure was recording her, “Howdy, boys, hope you weren’t too attached to your toys. They look awfully expensive and very big. Compensating?” Her eyes swirled white.
“Oh my God,” Alison said as the sky split and Storm channeled a massive strike through her body, effectively taking out the sentinel holding her as well as the three large sentinels bearing down on them.
Storm hit the ground hard, still clutched in the falling machine’s hand. She winced as her face planted into the ground, cracking with enough force for her to hear bells, splitting her lip and bruising her chin.
That stunt had taken a lot out of her, and she lay panting for a moment. She wiggled her body, sliding free of the metallic hand still holding her, the fingers jarred apart on impact. With an angry wipe of her hand she pushed the thick mass of her hair from her eyes.
*Storm.*
*So glad you could join us, Charles.*
*Forgive the delay. I was…occupied. Scott and the Red team have been deployed. Fall back and await retrieval.*
Storm shook her head. *They have Wolverine.*
*I know.*
*I’m not leaving with out him.*
*We will get him back, Storm, but he is no longer even in the area. They transported him by jet three minutes ago.*
Storm pounded her fist into the ground. “Fine.” She stood slowly, not trusting her legs completely. “Okay, guys, we fall back to the Bird.” Storm said to Gambit and Alison.
Alison groaned. “That’s like three miles back.”
“Her leg’s broke,” Gambit added.
Storm nodded, looking back towards the smoke and fallen sentinels, knowing they needed to move, that more would be coming. “Pick her up.” she ordered.
Gambit swung Alison into his arms. Storm wrapped her arms around his waist. “Hold on.”
Gambit chuckled. “I done died an’ gone t’ heaven.” He winked one devil red eye at her.
“Flirt.” Storm chided out of habit, but there was no humor in it.
“Isn’t he though?” Alison said, squeezing Gambit’s rear.
Gambit looked down at Storm, his brow furrowed. “You all right, chere?”
Instead of answering Storm summoned a small current to carry them back to Kitty and Kurt…and the boy she had failed to save…

Black Bird

“You’re all right!” Kitty raced forward as soon as her three other team members came into view, her light brown pony tail bouncing as she ran.
The winds settled and Storm, Gambit and Alison landed, less than graceful, as Storm was becoming drained, on the ground. She quickly rose to her feet. “Get into the jet, all of you. Kitty engage the shields.”
“Where you goin’, Stormy?”
“I need to take care of something.” She shot him a look over his shoulder. “I’ll be back.” She was making her way towards the decimated, still flaming farmhouse and without a doubt Gambit knew where she was going. “Ah, hell, padnat.” He shook his head and sighed.
Ororo’s steps faltered as she approached the fallen form laying alone in the yard. She lowered herself slowly to her knees, her breathing ragged. “I’m so sorry.” She whispered, stroking the portion of the young boys head that remained intact. “Adam.” She lowered her head to his, holding her breath to keep from crying. “I’m sorry. I should have known, should have seen.” She looked at the burning farmhouse. “Was this your home, Adam? Were you happy here?” She asked softly, still stroking his head. “Is that your sister we have? Don’t worry, Adam, I’ll make sure she gets a good life.” She spoke softly for several more minutes then rose, calling forth a number of bolts of lightening, turning the body of the young sixteen year old to ash, the only sending she could give him. “To the earth with you, Adam. Blessed Goddess watch over his spirit.”
Shoulders stiff Ororo headed back to the Black Bird, hands clenched at her side, her mouth set in a grim line. Wraith. That bastard would pay. For Adam, and for Wolverine.
As she got closer to her team she noticed a smaller jet landed next to the Black Bird and Cyclops was speaking with Alison.
“Storm. Status,” he demanded as she got closer.
“Got our asses kicked.” she said, reaching for the Black Bird’s hatch. Cyclops grabbed her arm. She turned giving him a narrow look, eyes going white. “What?”
“What the hell happened here? I do not like the X-Men looking like jokes and costing sixteen year old kids their lives,” he stated, voice hard, still holding her arm. She shook him off.
“When we arrived the house looked abandoned, we entered, an explosion was set, soldiers arrived, five tanks, two helicopters, Wolverine referred to one of the men as Wraith. A shootout ensued, Wolverine was taken, we pursued, but we turned back by four Sentinels and some flying bugs. Now, you’re up to speed.”
“You entered even though the place looked abandoned? That should have been your first clue that this was a trap.” Cyclops said angrily.
Storm looked away, knowing there was more than a grain of truth behind those words. “I know. I am sorry.”
“Sorry isn’t going to bring that kid back from the dead.”
“Hey, easy, homme.”
“Stay out of this, Gambit. As far as I’m concerned your less of an X-Man than she is.” He indicated Storm.
“Hey, back off, toy soldier,” Alison spoke up, glaring from the interior of the jet.
“Look at you. All of you. Beaten, broken,” he glanced at Alison’s splinted leg, then he looked directly at Storm. “Failures.”
*Enough, Cyclops.*
*Professor. I am just stating facts.*
*Now is not the time, Cyclops.*
*Orders, sir?*
*Start flying, Cyclops, I will have a course laid out in moments.*
*On our way.* Cyclops motioned for Jean to start their jet. “Let’s roll, people.”
Storm turned to Alison. “You up to piloting?”
Ali shook her head, her eyes unfocused. “Can’t, the fuzzy elf loaded me.”
Grinding her teeth, Ororo turned to Scott. “I need a pilot.”
One corner of his mouth turned up. “What’s the magic word?”
*Cyclops*
Cyclops frowned, then jerked his head at Jean, saying, “They need a pilot.”
“What’s wrong with Dazzler?” Marvel Girl questioned.
“Busted leg. You take the Bird.”
Jean opened her mouth to refuse, but the firm set of Scott’s jaw stopped her. “Men,” she muttered, climbing from their plane and making her way over to Storm.
“Looks like I’m flying you out.” She said.
“Good. Kurt take co-pilot.” Storm said climbing into the jet.
Once they were in the air, Jean couldn’t resist saying, “Looks like the squad of Misfit Mutants really screwed up.”
“Blow it out your--”
“Alison.” Ororo interrupted gently. She gave Jean a hard look. “I am proud of my team, Jean. I would go into battle with them any day.”
Jean said nothing for a moment, and then, “Yes, well now they have one of ours. If anything happens to Wolverine I will personally turn your brain to mush.”
Storm didn’t reply, staring about the window, thinking that if they didn‘t get Wolverine back, Jean wouldn‘t get the chance, she may just die of a broken heart. When had she fallen so hopelessly in love? The guy was as arrogant and smug as they came, full of himself, always sniffing after Jean. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, aside from the locker room incident, she had not seen the two of them even in the same room together. Storm closed her eyes thinking about her late night trip to the refrigerator the other night, and her stomach clenched.
~~~
She had been unable to sleep, a usual problem for her. She had quietly slipped out of Gambit’s arms, padding down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen. Once there she had proceeded to hunt in the back of the freezer for her hidden Ben&Jerry’s, Karmal Sutra.
“Looking fer this?”
Ororo had spun, catching the freezer door with the back of her head, wincing. Her heart had immediately tripped over itself at the sight of him. He leaned against the doorjamb, half hidden in shadows. He moved forward, fully revealed, by the light of the moon beaming through the windows, and Ororo thought maybe she’d stopped breathing. He was bare-chested, clad in only a faded pair of jeans, his bare feet silent as he moved towards her. She backed up hurriedly, nearly tripping.
“Careful, there, darlin.’” He moved with lightening reflexes, and caught her about the waist, pulling her upright.
“Wolverine. Why do you have my ice cream?” She had asked, for lack of anything better to say, trying not to touch his bare chest, but desperately yearning to do so.
“Don’t have yer name on it.” he said huskily, his breath fanning her cheek.
“That’s because it was hidden.”
Without taking his eyes off her he flicked the top with his thumb, opening the sweet smelling treat. Then, still watching her, he dipped his index finger into the chocolate portion of the ice-cream, scooping out a small amount. His eyes glittered as he brought his finger to his mouth, licking the dairy from his calloused pad.
Unable to help herself Ororo had watched transfixed, licking her own lips as he licked the ice-cream. “Wanna taste?” he had asked.
Ororo nodded, unable to speak, reaching for the container, but Wolverine lowered his head, his cool mouth catching hers, his tongue sliding easily past her startled lips. She had gasped in surprise, aware that he tasted of the sweet ice-cream mixed with the faint taste of alcohol.
Her hands fluttered for a moment before settling on his muscular shoulders, delighting in the way the muscles rippled under her fingers. Without realizing it, she had begun making deep mewling sounds of longing in the back of her throat and he pressed her against the counter, his hands sliding under her long T-shirt, teasing the skin on her ribs, all the while his lips and tongue nudging and teasing hers. He lifted her, seating her on the countertop, spreading her legs wide and stepping between them. Ororo had instinctively tried to close herself, but he had moved forward too quickly, so instead all she had ended up doing was pulling him closer, tighter against her.
“God, ‘Ro. Ya feel so good.” He was kneading her breasts with his warm hands, his thumbs flicking over her nipples, causing her to whimper into his mouth. It wasn’t until she felt his hand pressing against her damp center through her white cotton panties did she panic. She immediately lashed out, planting her foot in the center of his chest, shoving him across the room.
“Stop.” She hopped off the counter. “I don’t like to be touched.”
Wolverine growled at her. “Could’ve fooled me, darlin’.”
“I don’t.”
Wolverine’s breathing was ragged and his lip curled, baring his teeth slightly. “So, what yer just a cock-tease?”
Crack! Ororo’s hand whipped out, slapping him with enough force to turn his head. He turned back to her with a growl. “Stick to redheads, Wolverine. You have no class anywhere else.” With that she left the room, leaving the ice-cream and a growling Wolverine behind her. She was halfway up the stairs when she heard him.
“I’m sorry.”
Ororo had looked over her shoulder to say something scathing, but the wounded look in his eyes silenced her. “Accepted. Good night, Wolverine.”
“Logan.” he had said softly after she had departed.

~~~

Wolverine snapped his head up, coming awake with a start, images of Storm in his head, in time to meet the ass end of a rifle to his face. He growled, spitting blood. “Fuckers,” he snarled.
A hand gripped his hair, jerking his head back. “Awww, c’mon, Wolverine. Aren’t you having fun?” Another blunt hit to his mouth.
Wolverine shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He was in a plane of some sort, his arms strapped behind him at odd, painful angles, some sort of metal cuffs preventing him from extending his claws. Must be made of adamantium, he thought, unable to even pierce them.
“Wraith said to make sure you were good and submissive when we get to base. How long you think that’ll take with your ability to heal and shit?”
Wolverine snarled, earning him a boot to the stomach. “That the best ya got, pussy?”
Several rounds of ammunition were emptied into his chest and Wolverine lost consciousness again.
“Wake up!” Storm was calling him. He could see her beautiful mouth moving, her breath brushing his ear. “Wolverine, open your eyes you stupid fuck.” Definitely not Storm.
Wolverine blinked against the harsh white light directed into his face. “Morning, sunshine.” A large man with dark red hair, wearing a blue plastic apron over gray coveralls stood in front of him. “My name’s Smith, and I’ll be torturing you momentarily.”
Wolverine looked around, realizing he was no longer in the plane, but in a very sterile room white room, with bars on the windows, naked and strapped to a slanted table. The man called Smith was moving towards him with a syringe.
“This will help speed things along.” He slipped the needle into Wolverine’s arm, pressing the plunger, injecting some type of clear liquid that burnt as it was absorbed. “There, isn’t that lovely.”
Wolverine growled. “Why is it all you fuckin’ nuts that torture act like yer at some goddamn tea party.”
“Well, Mr. Wolverine, that’s because this is pleasant for me.” Smith picked up a long device that looked like a corkscrew and smiled at Wolverine through his deep red beard. “Sadly, I can assure you, that this will be most unpleasant for you.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Wolverine grunted. “That looks like one of my ex’s bedroom toys.”
“Hm. Interesting.” Smith pulled on a pair of large, yellow latex gloves. “I’m afraid this won’t be nearly that enjoyable.” Another smile. “For you.”
The tip of the corkscrew device plunged into Wolverine’s stomach, and he ground his teeth. “Yer gonna have ta do better than that, Bub.”
“Oh, we’re only just beginning.” Smith assured him, twisting.
Wolverine roared.
After several minutes and three other devices Smith stood, setting a timer. “Mmmm, that’s better.” Smith said, ruffling Wolverine’s sweat dampened hair like he was a boy. “The serum should take effect in a moment, but with your mutant ability, I doubt we’ll have long for this interview.” Smith lifted a straight razor, running it along Wolverine’s chest, creating a big, bloody X. “Who are the X-Men?”
“Fuck you.” Wolverine panted, leaning forward, sweat dripping from his nose, dripping onto the blood red floor.
“Hm. Not the answer I was looking for.” A heated soldering iron was placed against Wolverine’s eye.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Wolverine jerked his head back and forth trying to escape the pain.
“Is there a limit to what your body can handle, Mr. Wolverine?” Smith ran the straight razor along the back of Wolverine’s ear. “If I cut this off, do you grow one back?” He lowered the razor, tapping it against Wolverine’s exposed groin. “How about this?”
Wolverine’s blood turned to ice, but he still said nothing.
“A tough one. What a treat.” Smith backed up, pulling a small laptop over to the rack. He clicked a few buttons and then set the screen so that Wolverine could see it. On screen an image of Kurt appeared, bamfing from the farmhouse. Smith paused the video. “Who’s that?”
“My mother,” Wolverine snarled. “She has issues.”
Smith frowned. “Come now, Wolverine, we both know you don’t remember your mother.” He ran the razor along Wolverines chest again, deeper, carving the X into muscle. “Who are the X-Men.”
Wolverine panted against the pain, his head foggy from whatever they injected him with. “Fuck. You.”
Smith smashed a beefy fist against Wolverine’s face. Then again. Then he picked up a bat and swung, cracking the wood against Wolverine’s skull.
“Manners, Wolverine.”
Wolverine’s head lolled and Smith slapped him twice. “Stay awake, Wolverine.”
Moving back to his table o’torture Smith pulled out a long serrated blade. “You have very strong legs, Wolverine. But everyone has an Achilles heel.”
Wolverine hollered as he felt the blade slice the back of his foot. “Mother fucker.” Blood ran from his lips where his fangs were gnashing. “I’m gonna gut ya, ya fat fuck.”
“Doubtful.” Smith studied him closely, then as if struck by an idea moved back to the table, picking up to cables with clamps. “Tell me, Wolverine, are you a good conductor?”
No response except a watchful glare. Smith smiled. Good, they needed him feral.
With a quick slit here and a cut there, Smith actually clamped the clips underneath Wolverine’s skin. “Okay, here we go.” He pressed a button and wolverine arched off the table, “YEEARRGG!”
“Music to my ears.” Smith doubled the voltage. “All right, now that I have your attention.” Smith pressed a key on the laptop. “How about her?”
Wolverine glanced at the screen and his heart stopped. It was Storm, held by a sentinel. Had they caught her? Then the video played and his heart not only beat again, but he felt a flare of pride when she smiled, “Compensating?”
Smith paused the screen capturing the image of Storm conducting lightening from a relatively clear sky. “Who is she?”
Wolverine looked away, growling.
“She’s a pretty little thing,” Smith continued. “I can only imagine the plans Wraith has for her.”
Wolverine snarled, spittle and blood spraying, jerking against his restraints.
“Ahh.” Smith smiled, his index finger caressing the image of Storm on the screen. “This is the one.” Smith stood. “You have been most helpful, Wolverine.”
Wolverine frowned. His thoughts clouded with rage and pain. Smith placed another syringe in his arm, and Wolverine’s head went fuzzy.
“Who is she?” Smith asked.
Wolverine fought but her name tumbled from his thick tongue. “Storm.”
“And who is she?”
Nothing.
“C’mon, Wolverine, who is she?”
“My…love…”
“Wolverine, that’s a surprise. I should thank you. So thank you, Wolverine, for showing us how to break you.” Smith glanced at the image of Storm again. “Now we just have to go get her.”
KA-BOOM!! KA-BOOM!!
Smith jerked at the sound of thunder crashed over head. Wolverine’s head snapped up, his teeth bared. “Well, well, well. Looks like she came to us,” Smith said.
He reached across the table pulling a red vial from a silver container. Wolverine growled, he knew what that was. Rage in a jar, they’d called it. A chemical that instantly shut down the human side of his brain, leaving the animal in complete control. Smith placed his hand on Wolverine’s thrashing head and injected the substance directly into his temple. Backing away quickly, Smith smiled, releasing the locks via remote, that held Wolverine strapped down.
“Have fun, Wolverine.”
Wolverine leapt, slashing at the door as it slammed shut behind the retreating Smith. No. No. No. He could feel his mind shutting down the animal taking over. He sniffed the room, but all he could smell was his own blood. He glanced at his wounds, already mostly healed and he growled. Hunt. Hurt. Kill.
He could hear shouts outside the building and gunfire.
Hunt. Hurt. Kill!
The sound of jets buzzing the building made his head ache. He clapped his hands over his ears.
Hunt! Hurt! KILL!


Outside

“I believe you have something that belongs to us,” Scott said to one of the cowering soldiers.
“Stocky fellow, big mouth,” Gambit added.
The soldier shook his head. “N-no, please, I gotta wife and kid.”
“Then it’s a real shame you’re never going to see them again,” Storm said, crouching down beside him, eyes glowing. “Wolverine. Where is he?”
“Miss?” A large red haired man poked his head around the corner of a building. “Psst.”
Storm looked up.
“You looking for the prisoner?”
“Yes.” Scott said. “You know where he is?”
“I think so. I’m not sure, I’m just the cook.”
Well, that explained the bloody apron. Scott motioned for Jean and Gambit to flank. “Lead the way.”
The portly cook indicated the building they were already beside. “I think he’s in there.”
“Stand clear.” Scott punched a hole in the wall with an optic blast. Immediately a naked and pissed off Wolverine leapt from the wreckage, fangs and claws bared.
“Holy shit!” Scott cried as Wolverine lashed out at them. “He’s gone feral!”

“Back! Get back!” Cyclops commanded, waving Gambit and Jean away and halting the approaching Iceman and Kurt.

Storm stared in horror at the very bloody Wolverine emerging from the wrecked wall and despite Cyclops’s warning she stepped towards Wolverine involuntarily. She reached for him---

“Storm! Get back!” Scott sent a low powered optic blast into the ground directly in front of her, knocking her backwards. She glared icy daggers over at him from the flat of her back.

“Don’t hurt him!” Storm said angrily, as Cyclops fired another blast at Wolverine, who dodged and leapt at them, moving like nothing Ororo had ever seen before.

“It’s not him I’m worried about!” Cyclops said, positioning himself in front of Jean as he lifted his wrist saying, “Hank be on standby. Have Warren finish up on Alison’s leg if he hasn’t already.“

“Is Wolverine hurt?“ Beast came back.

A pause. “Just be ready. Possible multiple injuries coming back.”

There was a startled pause from Beast. “We shall be prepared.”

“Good. Send Colossus out.” Scott ordered. He turned his head and the ruby quartz of his visor glinted in the sun, catching Wolverine’s attention

Wolverine rushed him, his fierce growl turning the other X-Man’s blood cold.

Clang!

Gambit stepped in front of Wolverine, preventing his charge, adamantium staff drawn, blocking his attack. “Easy, homme. We be friends, remember?”

Wolverine snarled at him, moving with the natural grace and skill of a born predator, deflecting Gambit’s staff and flaying the other man’s arm open from shoulder to wrist. Gambit cried out, dropping his weapon, blood spraying the ground. Wolverine slashed again, and Gambit evaded, but barely. He rolled, but before he could get up Wolverine stood over him, bare foot cracking Gambit’s jaw, claws extended, arms drawn back, viscously snarling.

Jean unleashed a telekinetic pulse, sending Wolverine careening across the ground. He snarled at her, claws sinking into the soil, digging up small trenches, halting his progression. Jean screamed as he leapt, covering the distance between them in one smooth motion and flinging her to the ground. Hunt. Hurt. Kill. No! Yes! Hunt. Hurt. Kill. He raised his arm.

A silver and steel fist caught Wolverine under the chin, sending him soaring back. Mid flight Wolverine arched his spine, flipping and landing on all fours with animal grace. He was quickly becoming surrounded, but the animal in him refused to back down. It was kill or be killed. Narrowing his black eyes Wolverine attacked without hesitation, evading Gambit’s flung cards, and Cyclops optic blasts.

Cyclops swore, knowing that if they didn’t stop him soon, Wolverine would single handedly bring down the X-Men. “Jean can you get a fix?”

“Are you kidding? I couldn’t touch his mind before this!”

“Storm, take him down with a bolt, or send him to Kansas, or something!”

Storm glared at him. “I can reach him. I know I can. Just give us some space.”

“Storm, you’re insane. You don’t know Wolverine, he’s a killer. An assassin. We’ve known him for years and the only person to get more than a growl out of him was Jean.” This was said with great reluctance and more than a bit of anger.

“Give me a chance.”

“No!” Finality.

“Heads!” Iceman shouted as Wolverine lunged for Cyclops.

“Wolverine!” Storm tackled him, heedless of the danger, using the force of her winds to propel them several feet away from the others, back into the building that he had erupted out of. He glared up at her, roaring in rage. “Stop.” She said gently. Something akin to recognition flashed in his eyes, but before Storm could say more she was kicked from him and he swiped at her, causing her to flinch.

“Wolverine.” She said, scrambling backwards away from him. “It’s me. Storm. Remember?” She looked around the room seeing all the hooks and blades and the strapped table, and she felt her stomach roll. Oh Goddess, what had they done to him? Her hands slid in something sticky and she realized she was crawling through a layer of Wolverine’s blood.

Wolverine’s head swiveled towards her, fangs bared, snarling. Hunt. Hurt. Kill!! With deadly accuracy Wolverine sprung to his feet and launched himself at Storm, only to stop directly over her, straddling her, his claws skimming her chest, almost gently, but still cutting thorough the leather and lycra of her uniform, leaving three crimson marks. She cried out softly, trying not to.

Hunt. Hurt….Mate. Protect. Wolverine shook his head, his vision still crimson, but some part of him was screaming in protest at the thought of hurting this prey. She was looking up at him and he could smell her fear and it turned his stomach and excited him at the same time. He lowered himself to her level, leaning into her, pressing his nose to hers, growling low and deep.

Ororo met his gaze, slightly defiant. “You are not an animal.” She said gently, but firmly. “Come back to us, Wolverine.”

“Storm!” Cyclops rushed in. Taking in the scene in front of him he blasted Wolverine, punching him through the far wall. He looked at Storm, helping her to her feet. “We have new orders. We retreat, a swarm of Sentinels are coming.”

“But Wolverine…”

“Is no longer our priority. We move.”

Storm glared. “I am not leaving without him.”

Cyclops planted his hands on his hips. “You don’t have a choice. We haul ass, yesterday!”

“You seem awfully eager to leave him!”

Cyclops’s jaw jutted forward. “We can’t beat him,” he admitted reluctantly. “In every DR session Wolverine annihilates the team, I can’t risk it for real. He’s just too dangerous right now. I’m not giving up on getting him back, Storm, but we can’t take him, and unless you want me to blow a hole through his chest and take him out, we leave.”

Storm’s heart felt like lead. She knew the odds were against them, but after losing Adam she couldn’t lose Wolverine too. “I can reach him,” she said. “I know I can. Let me try!”

*Scott!!*

Jean’s mental screaming interrupted them and Cyclops heard the distinct sound of metal shredding. “Son of a bitch! He’s attacking the team!” Cyclops shouted, rushing out of the semi-erect building. “You can’t reach him, Storm. What we have to do now is try to survive him!”

Storm followed, stunned into stillness by what she saw. Iceman lay on the ground, unconscious, Kurt was trying to lift him, and Alison was in much the same condition, her head rolling to the side while Gambit was trying to lift her with one arm, to keep her out of harms way.

Jean lay on the ground, her lip bloodied and Wolverine was standing over her, claws poised to strike. Cyclops raised his hand to his visor, but Storm knocked him aside with a blast of artic wind, frosting his brown hair.

“Fuzzy Elf! Get Jean!”

Kurt bamfed to Jean, dodging the strike by Wolverine with his natural acrobatic ability, then clutching Jean’s shoulders *BAMF* and they were clear.

“Cyclops, where the hell are Colossus, Angel and Kitty?” Storm demanded.

“I sent them back with the baby as soon as things got hairy,” he said, rising to his feet, glowering at her. Jean screamed his name as Wolverine’s foot came out of nowhere, slamming Scott about a dozen times in rapid succession, knocking the Red Leader aside. Cyclops landed hard, throwing up and blood pouring from his broken nose.

Wolverine’s feral eyes glittered black onyx at Storm and his nostrils flared, picking up her scent. Hunt. Hurt. Mate. He snarled at her and she made out a single word mixed in with the growl “Mine.”

Storm’s stomach clenched.

Jean turned to Cyclops. “What do we do?”

Scott staggered to his feet. “We follow our orders. Get in the plane.”

Storm shook her head, her eyes still on Wolverine. “You follow your orders Cyclops, but I am not leaving him. Did you see where those monsters had him?”

“Stormy?”

“Trust me.”

“Always, padnat.” Gambit looked at Wolverine and frowned. Wolverine was staring at Stormy in a way that was very dangerous. Hope you know what you’re doing, Stormy, he thought.

Without another word, or any sign of warning, Storm rushed Wolverine, wrapping her arms around his middle from behind, summoning her winds to carry them high into the air.

“Storm!” Cyclops bellowed, but she was already moving away from them.

“She’s crazy!” Jean said.

Gambit shook his head. “Non, she’s in love,” he muttered under his breath. He looked down at Alison, who was slowly blinking up at him. “Welcome back, chere.”

“What’d I miss?”

Gambit looked over the trees where Storm had disappeared, a worried frown marring his handsome face. “Beauty jus’ went t’ tame da Beast.”

“Let’s roll, people.” Cyclops said. “Jean contact the Professor. Find out what he wants us to do about Storm and Wolverine.”

“Follow them.” Jean said a few minutes later, the jet soaring through the air. “He wants us to follow.”

“And what?” Cyclops asked.

“Do whatever necessary to ensure Storm‘s safe return.” Jean said, mildly confused by the Professor’s orders. He had seemed almost indifferent when Jean had relayed their recent events to him and for some reason that disturbed her, but not nearly so much as his next projected thought had. “If we can not subdue him, we’re to take Wolverine out of commission. He’s too dangerous left alive.”

Scott blinked in surprise. “Xavier wants us to kill Wolverine?”

Jean turned, looking at the beat up and worn out cast of characters behind her. “If we have to.”

Alison was looking out the plane window, worrying her lower lip.

Kurt was talking to himself, praying probably, murmuring in his native language.
Gambit sat stiff as he shuffled a deck of cards with his good hand.
Iceman was still unconscious, but breathing steady. Hank was attending him.
Jean turned back to Scott. “You think she’ll be all right?”
Scott shook his head. “I think she’s probably already dead.”

Still high above the tree line Storm released Wolverine, allowing him to tumble to the ground. His claws had nearly slashed her twice now, and she was getting tired of trying to control him and the winds at the same time.

She followed him down, landing a healthy distance away.

“I know you can hear me,” she said softly, her tone dulcet and surprisingly neutral. “You have excellent hearing, don’t you?”

He was watching her warily, his eyes glittering in the shadows of the trees. He shifted, his body completely absorbed in darkness and Storm grew tense. “Wolverine?”
She took a hesitant step forward. “Wolverine?”

She was hit from behind, her breath knocked from her lungs as she hit the ground. She rolled and Wolverine was straddling her, his breathing heavy, sniffing her. Again recognition flashed but was quickly gone and he grabbed a fistful of her hair, dragging her across the ground, her feet sliding in the mud, unable to find traction.

He continued walking until he reached a large tree. He looked down at her, remembering pain. Pain caused by her…for her…? He shook his head, growling.

Storm tugged on the hand holding her hair and he slapped her, hard. Ororo saw spots dance in front of her eyes. “You ass!” she swore angrily. “You wanna play rough, sweetie, okay. We play rough.” Ororo’s eyes swirled and Wolverine inhaled the distinct scent of ozone a second before he felt electricity coursing through his body, causing his to howl in pain. He panted heavily, now on his knees, but still clutching her hair in one tight fist.

He glared at her and Ororo saw a look of hurt betrayal flash in his black eyes. He stared at her angrily, but made no move to retaliate. She sat on her heels, watching him warily. “I know you’re in there. Come back to us.” She leaned forward one hand planted in front of her for balance, the other reaching out to him. “To me.”

Wolverine pounced, knocking her onto her back, releasing her hair to instead grab her wrists, holding her hands above her head. His breathing was erratic and his lips drew back, exposing his long canines. His eyes glittered and Ororo knew she had made a fatal mistake. He didn’t know her, and he was going to kill her. As she thought it, she felt his teeth pierce her throat in a savage bite, her blood filling his mouth.

“Logan.” She whispered and he drew back startled, chin crimson.

He reached for her, touching her face uncertainly. A red hot optic blast slammed him from her torso and punched him through a far tree, splintering the wood with a hideous crack. Ororo sat up, clutching her neck. “Wolverine!”

“Stay down!” Cyclops commanded, rushing past her towards Wolverine.

Capturing Wolverine was obviously no longer an option for them, she realized. She wanted to scream in frustration. She knew he had recognized her. All she needed was some time and she knew she could get under the animal to the man… Wolverine sprang loose from the underbrush, knocking Cyclops aside with a deft backhand. He turned, fangs bared, stalking towards Storm now, low and fast.

-SNIKT-

“Stormy!!!” Gambit cried plowing through the foliage, “Get away from ‘im!”

Wolverine whirled on the Cajun, now tossing pink phosphorous cards towards him, charged low so as not to hit Storm.

There was a strange humming sound and Ororo knew that Cyclops was gearing up to take Wolverine down.

“No!” she cried as Cyclops fired. At this close range it would be impossible for Wolverine to dodge both Gambit and Cyclops. Reacting on instinct alone Ororo threw herself at Wolverine, wrapping her arms around his neck and knocking them to the ground, taking the brunt of Gambit’s cards in her back.

Ororo gasped, barely feeling the three blades enter her midsection, her head dropping forward to rest on Wolverine’s shoulder. Instead of rolling to the ground she leaned into his deadly embrace, tightening her arms around his neck. She lifted her head and said into his ear, “It’s all right, Logan. It wasn’t you, I know…It’s all right…” She kissed him, her lips moving on his and slowly he responded, his tongue darting out to taste her and she sighed. She let their lips touch as she was mouthing the words against his lips, holding him, turning them so Cyclops couldn’t get a shot without hitting her.

Wolverine’s head was swimming, the scent of fresh blood filling his nostrils. He shook himself but it was still there. A soft voice was whispering to him through the rage, through the blood lust. “It’s all right…It wasn’t you…I know you…Logan.” Logan. Logan. His name was Logan.

Wolverine blinked several times, his vision slowly clearing. He found himself staring into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. “’Ro?” he whispered, voice raw.

“Hi.” She smiled tenderly down at him. “Welcome back.” Her eyes suddenly went hazy with pain and his brow furrowed confused.

“Storm?” It was then that he felt it, warm liquid seeping between his finger. He looked down, horrified to see his fist pressed into Ororo’s midsection, the tips of three adamantium claws protruding from her back. He roared in agony. A sound so terrible that the other members of the squads covered their ears.

Sensing his panic and inner loathing Ororo grabbed his face. “Sshh. It wasn’t you,” she murmured. “I know you, I do... It wasn’t your fault.” Her eyes were glazing over and she was rapidly losing strength.

“Help me!” Wolverine bellowed, looking over Storm’s shoulder at the other X-Men.

Jean was the first to rush forward, shaking off Cyclops restraining hand. “He‘s himself again,” she said, walking toward them.

“I‘m not certain it makes a difference anymore,” Cyclops stated flatly.

“Whatever you do, don’t retract,” Jean ordered.

Wolverine was growling in his throat.

“You’re going to have to carry her to the Bird. Can you do that, Wolverine?”

He nodded, unable to speak, the effects of the serum still raging inside.. He rolled, lifting Ororo against him, she groaned but said nothing. Her eyes were still open, looking at him and mixed with the pain was a look of such tender understanding that Wolverine’s steps faltered.

Once at the plane, a journey that felt like it took forever for Wolverine, Jean had him lay Storm down on the medical cot in the back of the jet. She reached for some gauze and a protein filler that would stop any bleeding that would occur as Wolverine retracted.

“Okay. Now.” Jean said filler in hand.

Wolverine retracted and Storm grunted, but didn’t cry out. She looked at him, her eyes surprisingly clear. “It wasn’t your fault.” She said again, firmly.

“Who’s fault was it den, chere? Cause from where dis Cajun sat it looked like Wolverine was wanting t’ kabob da lot of us.” Gambit entered the back of the plane, his arm still flayed open to the bone, glaring fire at Wolverine, his red on black eyes promising retribution.

“It was those government monsters, Gambit.” Storm said, panting slightly as Jean filled her wounds. “What is that?” she asked as the burn intensified.

“Protein.”

“Burns.” Storm mumbled her head feeling light.

“I bet.”

“You’re just loving this aren’t you, pom-pom.” Storm muttered, wincing in pain, one corner of her mouth tilted up.

“A little.”

Suddenly Ororo’s body began convulsing, her teeth chattering.

“What’s wrong wit’ ‘er?” Gambit demanded frantic.

“Shock.” Jean said, holding Storm’s shoulders. “It’ll pass. Someone get Hank, he’ll need to help me. Gambit get that arm covered. You don’t want it to get infected.” “Wolverine?” Storm said softly, her tremors lessoning,.

He looked at her.

She smiled glancing down at him. “Put some pants on.”

Xavier Institute: Just past Midnight, roof top

“You sure you’re all right, chere?”

“I’m fine, Remy. Relax.” Ororo shifted her weight against him, wincing slightly as she did, her wounds still tender. They had been deep, but luckily non fatal. Upon her arrival she had been sent to the med lab, but was released soon after, Hank realizing that she wasn’t going to stay put. He had warned her to take it easy, but otherwise to most everyone’s amazement she had been given a clean bill of health.

Gambit kissed her snowy hair and settled his cheek on the top of her head. “Dis be a nice night, non?”

Ororo inhaled the sweet night air, taking in the clear shy and smiled. “A very nice night.”

“Dat was a foolish t’ing you did,” Gambit said for the fourth time.

Storm shifted again, saying, “I did what any leader would do for a team mate.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What?”

“Not’in, Stormy.”

They sat in companionable silence for a long time, Gambit occasionally running his deft fingers through her hair, his arm stitched and mended. There would be a scar, but thanks to Warren’s healing powers it would be exceptionally small.

A movement on the ground below caught their eyes and Storm felt a familiar stirring in her heart as she watched Wolverine walk across the courtyard, cigar clenched between his teeth. He was moving quickly towards the woods and there was something about the set of his shoulders that bothered her. She sat up, leaning her forearms on her knees, hands dangling by her ankles as she watched him.

‘You should check on Alison,” Storm said without looking at Gambit.

Gambit said nothing by way of response. He watched her profile intensely. She looked over her shoulder at him, raising one eyebrow. “You should. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you flirt with her.”

“Jealous?”

Storm laughed softly. “You wish.”

With out another word, just a quick kiss on her cheek Gambit rose to his feet, but before he swung himself down through her skylight he said very seriously, “Be careful, padnat.”

As soon as he was out of sight she stood and let herself float on the breeze, silently gliding through the air, following Wolverine.

He walked for several minutes, making his way through the forest unerringly, his instincts uncanny. From above Ororo admired the way his body moved, the way he seemed a part of the forest itself. He was not one with nature, he was nature, she mused. He was beautiful to her, and that terrified her. She was drawn to him, on more than a base level of attraction, drawn by more, something much more.

After a while he stopped at a clearing, taking a seat on a fallen log, lighting the unlit cigar in his mouth.

A cloud of blue gray smoke swirled about his head. “Ya gonna hover up there all night?”

Storm felt her lips twitch. Of course he knew she was there. She slowly descended, sitting beside him, her hair falling about her shoulders slowly. “How are you?” she asked.

Wolverine snorted, still looking straight ahead. “How am I? Yer the one I stuck like a pig on a poke and ya wanna know how I am? I’m fan-fuckin’-tastic, thanks fer askin’.”

Ororo said nothing for a moment, then hesitantly she placed her hand on his arm, unsure of how to offer him comfort. “It wasn’t your fault, Wolverine. They used you.”

He turned his glittering gaze upon her and wished he hadn’t. She looked so beautiful sitting there in the moonlight and shadows, her features exotic and breathtaking and immediately he wanted her. “Ya heard Wraith, Storm. I used ta be one of them.”

Storm shook her head. “It wasn’t you.”

“What ya think there’s two of me out there. It was me, Storm. I still wake up in the night covered in sweat from the nightmares.” The last part came out without his intending it to.

Her hand flexed on his arm. “The Professor told me they messed with your mind, Wolverine. That doesn’t count.”

Wolverine leaned towards her, teeth gleaming. “They may have tweaked the controls but it’s my nature ta hunt. Ta hurt and ta kill. They only enhanced it. I’m an animal.” He jerked his arm away from her.

Storm sighed. “Is that what you think?”

“It’s what I know, Storm.” Wolverine gave a harsh laugh. “I‘m not some fluffy X-Man. I don‘t believe I stayed here this long.”

Storm’s breath caught in her throat. “You’re leaving?”

“It’d be best.”

“Stay.” She said quietly.

Wolverine looked at her surprised. “What do you care if I stay or go? I nearly killed ya, kid.”

Storm wouldn’t meet his eyes, instead looking into the shadows of the forest. “You didn’t. You fought your way back, Wolverine, that has to count for something with you.”

Wolverine ground his cigar under his boot heel. “Well, it don’t.”

“Let it go, Wolverine. Get rid of the baggage, and the guilt. Let it go.”

“Yer treadin’ where ya ought not ta tread little girl.”

“Coward.”

Wolverine growled down at her. “What did you just say?”

Storm stood facing him. “I called you a coward.” He bared his fangs. “What’s the matter? Did I hit a little too close to home?”

His dark eyes narrowed, then coldly, “What the fuck does a pampered little kid like you know about guilt or baggage?” He stalked away from her and had made it several feet when her soft voice reached his ears.

“I was exceptionally young when my mutant power manifested,” she was saying. He turned and saw that she was once again seated on the hollowed log, her blue eyes glazed white in a faraway look. “I was five or six years old , it’s hard to know for sure.” She took a deep breath, still not looking at him. “I had a nightmare. A particularly bad one, as I recall.” Her voice became softer and Wolverine found himself walking back towards her. “The tornado took out half the village, wrecked the school and toppled my house.” She looked at her feet, her voice trembling slightly. “My father died instantly, struck by lightening. But Mom….was crushed, under the rubble with me. I held her hand while she went. It took hours, and no one could come because in my fear the storm raged…so I sat, holding my mother's hand as she died, all the while knowing I killed her.” She looked up at him with scarred eyes. “I know about guilt, Logan, and baggage.” She stood and touched his cheek with her hand, cradling his jaw. Instinctively he nuzzled against her as she said, “The secret of life is to live it, Logan. Don’t give up. I believe in you.” With those words she lifted herself into the night sky, her silver and white hair a brilliant contrast to the deep midnight.

“Jesus.”

Xavier Institute
Westchester, New York
Danger Room


Ororo chewed her lower lip pensively from the Danger Room control turret. She had been in the small room for a little over an hour, designing a new training program for her team. She looked at Beast and asked, “Can we have the lasers on a rotation?”
Hank McCoy smiled. “Storm, anything you want this room can provide.”
Storm sighed. If only that were true. Her mind wandered back to Wolverine and their conversation from the night before. She hadn’t seen him all day and wondered if he had in fact left. She would know soon enough, as the Black team was scheduled for a DR session in thirty minutes.
“Good.” Storm said, returning her mind to the present. “I also need rapid fire rounds from here.” She pointed to a roughly sketched diagram laid on the console. “And here.”
“Pushing them a little hard, aren’t you?” Hank asked, submitting her request into the computer mainframe.
Storm shook her head causing her white pony tail to sway. “We had our collective asses handed to us the other day Beast, I’d rather push them here than have them taken unprepared in the field again.”
“Understandable,” he murmured. He gave her an appraising glance, noticing that his stomach still fluttered when she was near, but since he knew his heart belonged to Cecilia he was comfortable looking at Storm. She was very pleasing to look at, after all. “And if you would be so kind as to address me as Hank, I would be most appreciative.”
Ororo smiled. “Hank it is, then.”
Hank was momentarily blinded by her smile. Damn, but she was pretty.
“Thank you.” Ororo was looking at her diagram again but one corner of her mouth was quirked.
“I am to assume I said that out loud?” Hank asked embarrassed.
Ororo nodded, but didn’t say anything else, instead focused on her plans and Hank got the distinct impression Storm was uncomfortable being admired.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, changing topics and adjusting some of the settings on the console to Storm’s specifications.
“Well enough.” she said. “Warren worked a little of his Angel magic and I’m nearly as good as new. Thanks for asking.”
The Danger Room doors slid open, cutting off further conversation and Ororo lifted her head watching silently as her team entered the lower portion of the Danger Room. Alison with Gambit, talking expressively, followed by Kurt and Kitty. Storm watched the sealed doors for another moment and felt her chest tighten. One of her core team was not there. Had he really left?
After another minute of watching the closed doors she sighed softly. She had hoped to get through to him the other night, but apparently her words had fallen on deaf ears. With a few clicks and a button push Ororo gave Hank the instructions to set up a training sequence to begin on her command, and went to join her team.
“Dere you be, chere.” Gambit greeted warmly as she stepped through the sliding metallic doors.
“Good afternoon,” she returned. “I hope you all had a restful morning because we’ve got a lot of ground to cover today and I want to get started.”
“Sure you should be training with us?” Alison asked, a concerned frown on her face.
“I assure you, I’m fine.” Storm stretched her arms over her head. “I suggest you warm up, we begin in ten so stretch and be ready to work.” She bent touching the floor.
“Slave driver,” Gambit muttered, and began a series of Yoga stretches.
A low hiss indicated another arrival and Ororo straightened from her bowed position and looked over her shoulder to find Wolverine giving her backside a thorough once over. She blushed profusely. “You are late,” she said in her best leader voice.
“I’m here ain’t I?”
Storm nodded, accepting that for what it was. He wasn’t leaving. Why then was her heart pounding so damn hard? “Okay, team, let’s go over the basics of today’s exercise.”
Each member of the Black team looked at her intensely, each of them feeling the sting of humiliation and defeat from the other day. Storm knew that look because she had seen it only that morning as she had stared at her face in the mirror after her shower.
Storm paced in front of her team. “The exercise is simple. Get from here,” she tapped her toe on the ground. “To there.” She pointed to the far wall.
“Are you serious?” Kitty asked a bit surprised.
*BAMF* From the far wall. “Done.”
“Ha. Ha. Kurt, get back here and let me finish,” Storm said. “For this exercise, I want you to refrain from using your abilities.”
“Excuse me?” Alison said, her pierced eyebrows raised. “But isn’t the point of the Danger Room to exercise our powers?”
Storm nodded. “And we will be using them, but for now I want to see how well you -- we--perform without the cushion of our powers.”
Her team nodded and she was pleased with their easy acceptance of her idea. A few minutes later, Wolverine touched the far wall, having barely broken a sweat. He watched as the other members of the Black team struggled with a number of cyber-droids. The team’s hand to hand could use vast improvement he noted. He also noticed that Gambit and Storm worked remarkably well together. As if to punctuate that observation a droid swung a spinning saw arm at Storm, who placed her hands behind her head, allowing Gambit to grab her upper arms and flip her over his back, her booted feet connecting with a solid thwack with the droids head. However, the victory was short lived as a metal hand clubbed her upside the head, sending her down. She was up a moment later and Wolverine felt a stirring inside. She was a fighter.
He turned his attention to the rest of the team. Kitty was having a hell of a time, Wolverine saw, and as he watched one of the droids pinned her down with a laser, stunning her. Kurt was maintaining a decent defense. There was no aggression in the other man, however, and defense was not moving him any closer to the goal. Alison was tough cookie, he knew, and was proving it as she forged ahead, elbowing her way through several robotic enemies, but as she made her way to the center of the room, the rapid fire paint balls took her out, splattering her uniform bright red.
After a few more minutes of fighting Gambit reached the wall. He glanced at Wolverine almost nonchalantly, then without warning slammed a charged card into the other mans chest. It exploded on contact sending Wolverine soaring through the air.
“End program!” Storm cried, watching in horror as Wolverine fell back, body smoldering. “Gambit! What did you do?!?” She raced towards them, shoving him aside.
“Gumbo!” Wolverine snarled, immediately back on his feet, his uniform blown open, the flesh underneath blackened, but healing. -SNIKT-
“Wolverine, stand down!” Storm said.
Wolverine stalked forward towards Gambit, who looked only too eager to fight. “He started it, Storm, I’m just gonna finish it fer him.”
Storm stood between them. “I said stand down!”
Wolverine growled.
Storms eyes flashed, snips of lightening escaping the white orbs, the ends of her ponytail raising. “Stand down.”
Gambit smirked. “S’okay, Stormy. Gambit wanna play wit’ da Wolverine.”
Storm turned on him, sending him an icy glare. “Gambit, shut up.” She turned back to Wolverine saying, “I know he deserves it, but I won’t have my team act like a bunch of lunatic children. Stop.”
Wolverine retracted. “Yer the boss.”
Storm blinked, surprised by how easy that was. “Uh, thanks.”
Wolverine gave her a cock-sure smile. “I figure the least I can do fer ya is leave ya yer pet.”
Storm frowned. “Well, I do appreciate you not carving your initials into Gambit’s backside.” She smiled at him, then turned to Gambit. “Gambit, what on earth were you thinking?”
“Dat no one ‘urts my Stormy and gets away wit’ it.” He answered bluntly. His answer didn’t anger Wolverine and despite the still stinging wounds on his chest he felt a grudging respect for the other man.
“Wolverine didn’t hurt me, Gambit. I threw myself in front of him.”
“Why?” This came from Kitty, who was warily watching the confrontation. “I mean, no offense or nothing, but he was a raging loon.”
Storm shrugged, unnerved by how still Wolverine had gotten, his dark eyes watching her closely. “Because he’s my friend, and I don’t have many to spare.”
Alison smirked at that. “You have us.”
Storm nodded. “And I would fight for each and every one of you. We are a team, and in my book that makes us family.” She looked at Gambit. “And family is forever.”
Each person nodded solemnly, moved to have their leader so obviously devoted to them.
“Now, back to the session. Seeing as to how we ended up I’d say we obviously need work. All of us.”
“Hey, I reached the wall just fine,” Wolverine stated removing his tattered top. For a minute Ororo’s breath stayed trapped in her chest. Goddess than man was a magnificent creature to behold. Sinew an muscles flexed and contracted along his back and arms as he moved and her mouth went dry. He looked over at her, his eyes darkening and she got the marked impression he could sense her desire. She quickly stomped on it, immediately packing it away where she tucked all of her emotions.
“I know, Wolverine, that you are an outstanding fighter, but your team was struggling, and you should have helped those that you could. I won’t have loners on my squad. It’s all or its none.”
Wolverine’s eyes narrowed. “I ain’t much fer teams.”
“I know, and I appreciate what a sacrifice you are making gracing us newbies with your cheery presence, but teamwork will always be an important factor for us. The decision is yours, Wolverine. Stay on Black or go solo, I won’t force you. I do believe this team needs you and would benefit from your experience. I just so happen to think a dangerously unpredictable Canadian mutant with claws, complete with a vast array of fighting styles and Japanese influence is just what this team needs to round us off.”
“Wolverine’s French?” Gambit cursed.
“Canadian, Bub.”
Alison laughed. “We’ve got a Cajun, a German, an African, a Canadian and two Yanks. What a team!”
“I think we have a hell of a team,” Kitty added.
“I agree,” said Kurt, his arm draped over Kitty’s shoulder.
Storm nodded. “We do.” She looked at Wolverine. “In or out?”
Wolverine gave her a feral grin. “Most definitely in.”
Ororo’s heart stuttered and she knew he was referring to far more than being on X-Men Black. “Good.” She said. She looked at Gambit. “I’ll not have my team fighting each other.”
Gambit frowned, but knew she was serious. This meant a lot to Storm and if it mattered to her, then it mattered to him. “Sorry, chere.” He held his hand out to Wolverine. “No ‘ard feelings, henh?”
Wolverine clasped the other man’s hand in a firm grip. “Not at all, Gumbo.”
“Okay, now what?” Alison asked when the men broke apart.
“Now, we take some time to relax.” Storm smiled. “I want my team to work hard, but for the effort we play hard too.”
That received several smiles. “Who’s up for Harry’s?” Kitty asked happily.
“Count me in!” Alison said with a hearty laugh. “I could use a beer.”
“And me,” Gambit added with a wink.
“Definitely,” Ororo nodded.
Wolverine smirked. “Babes and beer, my two favorite things. I’m in.”
*Sorry to interrupt your session Storm, but could I see you in my office please.*
*On my way.* She looked at her team. “Let’s get cleaned up and meet in the lobby around seven.”
“All right.” Kitty smiled. She pulled away from Kurt and hugged Ororo unexpectedly. “Thank you,” she said.
“Um, sure.” Ororo looked baffled and Kitty’s smile broadened. Her and Kurt disappeared with a *BAMF*.
“Whatchya gonna wear tonight, chere?” Gambit was asking Ali as they left the room, his tone flirtatious and Storm smiled. She liked Alison, and apparently so did Gambit.
“Where you off to?” Wolverine asked her after a minute.
Storm shrugged, looking anywhere but at him, doing her best not to acknowledge that they were alone in the Danger Room. “Xavier wants to meet with me.”
“Hnh.”
“I assume it’s about the mission, but I don’t really know,” she continued. If she kept talking maybe he wouldn’t notice how her heart had sped up, or how her breathing was shallow. “It could be any-” she turned, walking straight into his broad chest. Damn, the man was sneaky.
Wolverine’s mouth claimed hers heatedly before another word could pass her sultry lips. He pressed her back against the gray wall, his hands cupping her face, his lips tender and demanding at the same time.
Once again Ororo felt her fingers twitch with the urge to caress his bare flesh. Bright Lady, but he tasted so good, she thought as his warm tongue crept past her lips, drinking from her, capturing her breathless cry of pleasure. Unwittingly her hips arched off the wall, pressing into him.
Logan groaned, a deep rumbling sound that made her toes curl. His arms closed around her, pulling her against him, his hot mouth trailing a wake of destruction across her cheek to her ear, where he whispered in that devil voice of his, “I want ya so much.” He rubbed himself against her, moving in slow undulations, letting her feel his arousal.
“Logan,” she sighed, head tilted back, eyes closed, clutching his shoulders.
“Aw, hell, I love the way you say my name.” His mouth took hers once again, this time much more demanding, his teeth capturing her full bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth.
Ororo moaned, loving the way he made her feel, the way she wanted to spread her legs, and pull him closer to her. An unfamiliar ache throbbed in her center and Ororo tensed. Oh, Goddess, she couldn’t…His tongue teased her lip, and Ororo lost the will to fight him, instead pressing herself closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him back.
Wolverine noticed the change and he growled in pleasure. She wanted him. He ran one large hand along her spine, cupping her ass, lifting her into his surging hips. Ororo cried out in surprise when he pressed his hand to her hot center through her uniform, his blunt fingers rubbing her through the material. “Spread yer legs, darlin’.” he said huskily.
Mindlessly Ororo obeyed, gasping when he cupped her in his hand, his thumb teasing her making her entire body throb.
*Storm!*
Ororo’s head jerked up, catching Wolverine in the nose. “Ughn.” He pulled back, blood splattering his bare chest.
“Sorry,” she said, panting slightly. She moved away from him. “I’m late for my meeting.”
Logan caught her arm. “This ain’t over,” he promised, his eyes glinting like hard steel.
Ororo looked away, swallowing hard. “It will never be.” She shook his hand off, stepping through the sliding doors, then despite her calm façade, ran through the corridors at breakneck speed, needing to get away from him before she turned around and threw herself back into his arms. She hated him for making her feel these things, and loved him for the same.
Outside Xavier’s office she took a deep breath and cleared her mind. Time to see what the Professor needed of her. She opened the door and her jaw nearly hit the floor.
“Good afternoon, Storm. I believe you know our guest.”
“Hello again, Mystery.”

Xavier Institute
Head Master’s Office

“Charles?” Ororo’s wary gaze shifted between the Professor and his guest.
“Come in, Storm.” Charles invited. “I believe you are acquainted with Mr. Shaw.”
Ororo’s eyes were ice blue, matching her voice. “We’ve met.”
Shinobi Shaw rose from the dark brown leather chair he had been reclining in with feline grace and walked over to her. He was an exceedingly good looking man and he gave off an aura of smug assurance. “Good afternoon, Storm. Such an interesting name you have. It rolls on my tongue like fine wine.” He was standing uncomfortable close, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body.
Ororo’s nose wrinkled and she raised one silver eyebrow. “Does that line ever work?”
“Storm.” Xavier chided. “Mr. Shaw and I were just discussing your visit to his club.”
Storm glanced at the Professor. “I’ll pay for whatever damage--”
“Nonsense,” interrupted Shinobi. “My behavior was deplorable and you had every right to react as you did.”
Although his tone was level Storm got the distinct impression of an underlying malevolence in his voice.
“I came here to apologize.” Shinobi was saying. He pulled Ororo’s hand into his, raising it to his lips, grazing her knuckles in the faintest of touches. “Forgive me?”
“Of course she forgives you,” Xavier replied for her, rolling forward. “Storm, I was informing Mr. Shaw-
“Shinobi, please.”
“Very well, Shinobi. I was just informing Shinobi about what it is we do here at the Institute. He seems most interested.”
“I am.” Shinobi stated, his dark eyes never leaving Storm’s face. “Very interested.”
She yanked her hand away. “What does any of this have to do with me?” Ororo asked Xavier, watching Shinobi from the corner of her eye. The way he looked at her made her skin crawl. It was blatant lust in his eyes and she knew the Professor could see it as easily as she could.
*Relax, child.*
Almost immediately Ororo felt the tension leaving her shoulders. She glared at Xavier. *Stay out of my mind.*
*I will explain all soon, Storm. For now, try and play nice.*
“I was hoping for a tour of the grounds. Perhaps you would care to give me one?” Shinobi asked, his cultured tones like smooth satin. “Since you are the only X-Man I am acquainted with.”
Storm shook her head. “I am afraid I have a previous engagement.”
Shinobi gave Xavier a pointed look. “Hmm. That’s too bad.”
*Perhaps another time.*
Storm blinked heavy eyes. “Perhaps another…no.” She glared at Xavier, eyes flashing. “Professor? Could I have a word?”
Charles nodded. “If you will excuse us, Mr. Shaw.” Xavier said and Ororo got the feeling he was subtly giving Shinobi the desire to leave. She almost smiled.
“Of course. I myself have a previous engagement this evening, so I will be leaving. I will be in touch tomorrow.”
“I look forward to it,” Charles said amicably.
At Xavier’s buzzer Winston appeared. “Please escort Mr. Shaw to his limo.”
As Shinobi passed her he whispered, “I much prefer the corset and pants to this drab uniform.” Storm frowned at his back.
The second she heard the latch click behind Winston and Shaw, Ororo turned on Xavier. “What was that?” she hissed.
At least he didn’t pretend ignorance. “A nudge.”
“A nudge? I don’t want to be nudged anywhere near that guy.”
Xavier rolled to his desk, opening a locked drawer, withdrawing a black file. He tossed it on the desk. “Perhaps you won’t have to be. Open it.”
Ororo opened the file. Inside were pictures of an elaborate room, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, expensive portraits on the wall. Another photo appeared to be a glass case and yet another was a close up of one of the portraits on the wall. In the center of one photograph sat several scantily clad mutants. She raised her eyes at Xavier questioningly.
“They are the Hellfire Club. Sebastian Shaw is the man in the middle. On his right is Tessa, she works for me, providing me information on the inner dealings of the Club. It’s through her I learned of Shinobi’s interest in you. Sebastian is Shinobi‘s father. They have a…strained relationship. Sebastian Shaw is in possession of some rather rare artifacts that he believes may contain information on the origin of the mutant genome.“ Xavier paused, looking at her. “Through you I hope to acquire these artifacts.”
Storm snapped the folder shut. “So you know want me to steal for you?”
“Yes. But I also require information. Sebastian Shaw is a very wealthy and powerful man. A man I once considered my friend, but now…many things have changed.”
“Funny, you said the same thing about Magneto. You have a hard time keeping friends it seems.”
Xavier frowned at her. “Insolence will not be tolerated, Storm. You have a real chance here to have the family you‘ve always wanted, to have a home. In return I ask very little.”
Storm sighed. “Only our lives.”
“A small price to pay for the measure of happiness and safety I provide here.”
Storm didn’t reply. She didn’t need to, Xavier could read her doubts as easily as if she’d spoken them aloud. “Why me?” she asked after a moment.
“You are one of the best thieves in the world, second only to Gambit, and both of you under my roof. I’d be remiss not to use the assets I have.“
“And,” Ororo prompted.
Xavier gave her a small smile. “I am aware of Shinobi’s attraction to you, Tessa made it clear that you were a sought after commodity, so to speak. I am hoping to use that to our advantage. I need information from young Mr. Shaw and I think you can get it for me, along with the artifact.”
Storm stared at him for a long minute.. “Are you saying what I think you are saying?”
“I want you to get close to Shinobi and work him for information,” Xavier said mildly.
“You want to pimp me so that you can get your hands on his father’s artifacts.”
Xavier raised his somber eyes to hers. “A colorful turn of phrase, but not entirely inaccurate.”
Storm took a deep breath. “Why not just rip the information from his mind? You know I have a…problem getting close to people.”
“From what I felt earlier you are making wonderful progress in that area. As for ripping the information out, i would if I could, but Sebastian Shaw safeguarded his entire organization from telepaths. I can influence, suggest, but not control. I need your help. I'd rather you comply willingly." The thinly veiled threat hung in the air.
Ororo gasped, he eyes wide. She shook her head, wondering where the nice man she had met several months ago had gone. “There is a line, Charles, and you are dangerously close to crossing it.”
Xavier nodded, his own eyes grave. “I know, Storm. Can I count on you?”
Storm took a deep breath. “To an extent. I won’t--”
Charles sensed what she was about to say. “Nor do I expect you to, Storm. Get close, get personal, but there should be no need to get intimate.”
Ororo thought of Shinobi’s lustful gaze and felt the hair on her neck stand up. “All right, but I let my team know what’s going on.”
Xavier shook his head. “I do not believe that would be wise. For now, let them assume that your attraction to young Shaw is genuine.”
Ororo was adamant. “No. I tell them. I just got done explaining that we were a team, no lone agents, and I will not be a hypocritical leader.”
Charles relented. “Very well.” he rolled over to his large window. “I will contact you in the morning for our visit with Shinobi.”
“Can’t wait.” Ororo muttered.
“That’ll be all, Storm.” She moved to leave. “Storm.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes?”
“Thank you. You are a fine leader, and I am proud to have you with us.”
She nodded, uncertain if he genuinely meant it or if it was one more manipulation on his part. Either way it made her chest tight, wanting to believe him.


Harry’s

“Well, he’s not bad looking,” Alison said, biting into a spicy buffalo wing. “Xavier could’ve given you a worse assignment.”
“It’s not his looks that bother me,” Storm said, sipping her water. “It’s him. Period.”
“I’ve never been one on one with the guy, but I hear he’s dynamite in the sack.”
Storm frowned slightly. “I am not interested.”
“Hmph. Just saying,” Ali said licking her fingers. She looked around the room. “Where’s Gambit with our drinks?”
“I think he’s at the bar.” Ororo craned her neck, looking for her friend. Sure enough he was at the bar, leaning against it on one elbow, talking to Jean. Jean! What the heck was she doing here? The redhead glanced up, her green eyes narrowed. Looks pissed, Ororo thought, picking out one of the floating cubes of ice bobbing in her drink. She crunched it between her molars with a satisfied smile.
“You know they say chewing ice is a sign of sexual frustration.”
“Bobby Drake! What’re you doing here?” Kitty exclaimed excitedly, much to Kurt’s displeasure.
“What? Only you guys get to go out? I don’t think so.” he nudged Storm. “Scoot over, babe.”
“That’s my seat.” Wolverine appeared at the table, beer in one hand and a fresh bottle of water in the other. He scowled at the younger boy.
“Hey sorry, man.” Bobby held up his hands. “Jean’s looking for ya.” Bobby added, grabbing a handful of pretzels from the bowl in the center of the table.
Wolverine glanced at Storm, who was staring at her water intensely. He could tell by the set of her shoulders she wasn’t happy. He wanted to ask her about it, but Bobby’s statement caught his attention.
“Why?”
“Don’t know, man. She’s over there.” He inclined his blond head towards the bar.
Wolverine turned, and sure enough Jean was bearing down on him. He set the drinks on the table, crossing his arms over his muscled chest.
“We need to talk,” Jean said when she arrived.
“Not in the mood,” he said flatly.
Jean glanced at the others, then back at Wolverine. “Now.”
“I said I’m not in the mood.” He pulled out a cigar, clenching it between his teeth.
Gambit approached from behind Jean, his red on black gaze resting on Storm, he gave Alison a glance and the pierced girl knew something was up. Gambit motioned for her to get Storm. Uh-oh, thought Alison.
“Uh, hey, Storm, wanna get some air?” She asked catching Gambit’s eye and nodding.
“That sounds good,” Storm said, rising.
“I’ll join ya,” Wolverine added, moving around Jean.
“I’m late.” Jean blurted out grabbing his arm. No explanation needed for that statement.
Everyone froze. Storm still semi bent over the table, Bobby mid-chew, Kitty stared and Kurt blushed beneath his silky fur. Gambit groaned and Alison’s mouth hung open.
Wolverine slowly swiveled his head towards Jean, his dark eyes narrowing. “Then I suggest you go talk ta Scooter.”
“I haven’t been with Scott since…” She trailed off. The entire school had heard about the locker room showdown, so there was no need to continue.
“Excuse me,” Storm made her way past Bobby, breaking the stillness. Wolverine growled, reaching for her. “Storm, wait.”
She avoided his hand. “Jean needs you, Wolverine. I suggest you see to her.” She looked at Gambit. “I’m heading home.”
“Sure t’ing, chere.”
To the rest of her team she said, “No drinking, curfew is one o’clock. I’ll be checking.”
“Wolverine’s drinking,” Alison protested.
“Wolverine’s got a healing factor that keeps him from getting stupid,” Storm added.
“That’s a matter of opinion,” Alison muttered, digging into her hot wings again.
“Don’ worry, Ali, Gambit keep you too busy t‘ wanna drink.”
Kurt smiled. “Goodnight, mama Storm.”
She returned his smile. “Behave children.” She moved towards the door not once looking behind her. She could feel his steel eyes on her back the entire time anyway. Once outside she took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” she said aloud. “It doesn’t matter.” She opened her eyes, her blue eyed gaze resting on Wolverine’s black and silver motorcycle. Her mouth twitched. She shouldn’t. She was moving towards the bike. She really shouldn’t…
The wind whistled past her ears, her hair flying behind her as she rounded the sharp corner at highly illegal speed, laughing. This was more like it, she thought. Just her and the open road.
She rode for several miles before she realized she was being followed. Had he noticed already that his bike was missing? Ororo slowed, not stopping, allowing a dark black SUV up alongside her. The tinted window rolled down and Shinobi Shaw smiled at her. “Nice night,” he said.
“It was.”
“Are you always so charming or is it just me?”
Storm stopped the bike, planting her feet on the pavement. “What can I do for you, Mr. Shaw?”
His dark look said there were a number of things he’d like her to do for him, or to him, but he simply reached behind him and pulled out a dozen long stemmed red roses. “For you.”
Storm took the flowers, saying, “They won’t last long on the bike.”
Shinobi smiled. “Then I shall bring you more to replace them.”
He had a rather nice smile, Ororo noticed. “That won’t be necessary. I’d rather not have flowers ripped from the earth to satisfy some idiotic womanly need to be admired.”
He laughed. “In that case, how about I take you to my personal menagerie and conservatory tomorrow.”
Storm thought of her assignment. She should go with him, but too easy of an acceptance may make him suspicious. “Is there a locked room and a bed waiting for me there?” she asked angrily.
“Only if you want there to be.” He smiled again, and once again she noticed how pleasant that made him. “ I do apologize for the other night. Club Hellfire is known for its exotic and… adventurous clientele. I assumed you were aware.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I know that now, and I will do whatever you wish to make amends.”
Storm nodded, then very serious, “Dress like a schoolgirl tomorrow. Pigtails and all.”
Shinobi blinked. “Pardon me?”
“You heard me.” With that she gunned the engine, roaring into the night.
In the black SUV Shinobi smiled. She was a rare treasure, indeed.


Harry’s
Parking lot


“Ya have thirty seconds, Red.”
Jean took a step away from him, yanking her arm from his painful grip. “It’s just what I told you, I’m late.”
Wolverine grimaced. “Have ya taken a test?”
“No.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“I wanted to talk to you first.”
He growled. “Yer lying.”
“I am not. I am late.” Jean defended.
“How late?”
“A few days.”
“Mother fu-” Wolverine took a deep breath. “Yer only a few days late, with no test and ya come down here ta announce in front of half the teams that ya may be pregnant, when in all likelihood ya ain’t. Red, I’m gettin’ real tired of yer games.”
“I could be pregnant! We had sex recently!” she defended.
Wolverine stepped close, “In case ya didn’t notice, Jean, I didn’t get off.”
Jean looked confused. “Then why’d you stop?”
“Because I realized what we were doing. For fuck’s sake, Jean, we were on a locker room floor.”
“So? We’ve been there before.”
Wolverine ran one hand through his hair.
Jean tilted her head. “It was her wasn’t it.”
“I don’t know what yer talkin’ about.”
“Storm. Ever since she’s shown up things have been different.”
“Don’t blame her, Jean. You knew as well as I did, all we were was a distraction fer each other.”
Jean shook her head, making her red locks bounce, reaching for him. “I love you.”
“No, ya don’t.” He stepped away from her. “Ya love Scooter.”
Jean looked away. “He doesn’t want me,” she whispered. “Not after…”
“You went back to me.” Wolverine said.
“Yeah.” Her lower lip trembled.
“I’m sorry, Jeannie.” He said it sincerely.
She gave him a tremulous smile. “Me too.”
Wolverine opened his arms and she stepped in. He kissed the top of her head gently. “He’ll come around, Red. He’d be a damn fool not to.”
She cried quietly against him, then pulled away. “Wolverine?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
He nodded, then looking around the lot, “Where the fuck’s my BIKE?”

The mansion was dark when Ororo arrived back, far later than the one o’clock curfew she gave the others. She reluctantly parked Wolverine’s motorcycle in the garage, having walked it up the winding drive as opposed to riding it, so as not to alert the others to her arrival. She half expected Wolverine to leap out of the shadows at her, nine inch claws extended, clearing her head from her shoulders for touching his bike. That’s if he even knew it was missing. Or that it was her that had taken it. She smiled thinking of him running around gasping for breath, crying for his baby. A low chuckle escaped her. She caressed the seat, still warm from the heat of her body, and a renewed smile touched her lips. That had been seriously fun. She ran her fingers through her windblown hair, humming to herself, making her way across the yard towards her balcony, clutching the surprisingly durable dozen roses Shinobi had given her.
Ororo glanced at the horizon, now slightly purple in anticipation of the sunrise and let her mind wander back to another early morning ride on that same bike. She closed her eyes, knowing it was futile to reminisce, but unable to prevent thoughts of Logan from entering her mind. She loved him, she knew. She hated him too. Her life was complicated enough, without adding him to the mix. Even now, Jean may be pregnant with Logan’s child and Ororo was thinking of how he made her feel. Ororo’s stomach turned and she was ashamed of herself. Lust was not something she permitted herself to feel, not that it had ever been an issue before. She had never wanted a man before. Ever. But now her days were plagued with memories of how his lips felt against hers, how her lower abdomen clenched and warmed when he was near, and the unbearable ache she felt almost constantly. Frowning at the direction of her thoughts she floated over her balcony railing, stepping through her glass doors.
“Gambit,” she whispered. “You awake?”
“It ain’t Gumbo, darlin’.”
“Wolverine.” Ororo gasped. “What are you doing in my room?”
“Waiting.”
Ororo clicked on her bedside lamp, illuminating the room in soft light. Wolverine was lounging in her bed, clad only in a pair of red boxer-briefs. Ororo took an involuntary step back. “Get out.”
Wolverine frowned. “Enjoy the ride?”
“Yes. Get out.” Ororo moved further away from him.
Raising his arms behind his head Wolverine watched her with predatory eyes. “I ain’t leavin’ until we talk.” He glanced at the roses cradled in her arms and instantly his face went dark. “Who the fuck gave ya those?”
Ororo glanced down, surprised. “None of your business,” she said angrily. “Now get dressed and get out.”
“Can’t say as if I’ve ever heard a woman utter those words ta me.” He said, still lounging against her headboard.
Ororo snorted. “I don’t imagine so, but as they say, there’s a first time for everything.” She moved into her private bathroom.
Wolverine heard water running and she reemerged with the roses in a vase. She set them on her bureau, blatantly ignoring him.
“Storm,” he said. “Look at me.”
She didn’t look at him, but said to the flowers, “Why are you still here?”
“We need ta talk. And who the hell gave you flowers?”
She almost smiled at his tone. Almost. “Wolverine, I am tired, and I want to go to bed. Please leave.”
He stood up, prowling towards her. “I ain’t leaving.”
Ororo swallowed nervously, but stood her ground. “Yes, you are. By choice or by force, it’s up to you.” Her eyes swirled white, the air thick with ozone. She tried not to notice how unbelievable he looked standing there in his underwear, his abdomen rippling as he moved, the muscles on his legs bunching as he walked. Her breath seemed trapped in her chest and it angered her that he had this effect on her.
“Ya can’t run from me forever, ‘Roro.”
“I’m not running, Wolverine. I’m going to bed.” She said through clenched teeth. “Don’t you have a pregnant girlfriend to be taking care of?” There it was out.
To his credit he actually winced. “Jean doesn’t know for sure if she is pregnant.”
Ororo rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Why be responsible and take a test, or wear a condom,” she glared at him. “When the emotional drama is sooo much more fun.”
Again he winced. “Hey, I ain’t saying I have no blame here, all I said was she doesn’t know yet.”
“The simple fact that there is even a remote possibility that you already have one woman knocked up, and the fact that you are in MY bedroom in your underwear does not speak well of your character. It seems you are as faithless as they come, Wolverine. Now get out!!” A gust of wind swept him off his feet, and with a wave of her hand she pushed open the balcony doors.
“Damn it, Storm. Put me down!”
“With pleasure.” A quick thought sent Wolverine tumbling over her balcony, landing with a dull thud on the grass outside. “Stay out!” She slammed the doors.
Not three seconds later her balcony doors swung open and Wolverine stood on the terrace glaring at her. He strode into the room, his lips curled back in an angry snarl. “I ain’t done yet,” he growled.
“Yes, you are.”
Wolverine advanced on her, “Yer gonna listen if I have ta hold ya down and make ya listen!” His hands grasped her upper arms, slamming her into the wall.
Real fear flashed in her eyes and Wolverine halted. “’Roro?”
“Get away from me.” she whispered. “Get away!” Her hair whipped around her head, her eyes white fire. “I do not like to be touched. Stop touching me!” A blast of air slammed him across the room, taking out her bedside lamp, plunging the room into shadows once more.
Pounding could be heard from her door and Gambit’s frantic voice, “Stormy!”
From her knees Storm called. “I am here, Gambit. I am fine. Just a bad dream.” She stared at Wolverine, “Please leave.”
“I didn’t mean--”
“Just leave.” Her voice was hoarse.
Wolverine nodded, picking up his discarded jeans and shirt and shoes, padding to the balcony, levering himself over the railing giving her a heavy look and was gone a moment later.
“Stormy! Open da damn door, or I swear I’m breakin’ it down!”
“On my way, Remy.” Storm took a deep breath, straightening her hair. She opened the door with a false smile. “Sorry to have disturbed you.”
Gambit strolled into the room, looking around. “Are you all right?”
“Of course, just a bad dream.”
“Don’ lie t’ me, Stormy.”
She didn’t respond, simply stared at his chest as opposed to the knowing look in his eyes. “I didn’t realize you had your own room now,” she said, as a distraction.
Gambit blushed. “I don’.”
“Oh, then where were…oh.” Storm’s eyes lit and she smiled broadly. “Well, well, well.”
“Hush, padnat.”
Storm laughed. “Remy Labeau, you scoundrel. Professing undying love to me, all the while chasing Alison.”
Gambit touched her cheek. “I do love you,” he said, quite serious.
“I love you too.” She murmured. He brushed her lips in a chaste kiss. “I’d like to go to bed now, Remy.” She began walking him back to the still open door.
“Do you wan’ me t’ stay wit’ you, chere?”
Ororo shook her head. “No. I’d really rather be alone.” Liar.
“Ok. But if you need me…”
“I know, brother. Goodnight.” She closed the door gently behind him, leaning her forehead against the cool wood. Goddess.


Early Morning

Ororo danced around the heavy bag, her taped fists connecting with hard jabs. She scowled, throwing in an elbow for good measure.
“Anyone I know?” Alison asked, sauntering into the workout room in her standard white tee and black pants. Her dark hair was not spiked, however, instead falling in soft ebony waves just below her multiple earrings.
Ororo turned the bag revealing a crudely drawn sketch of a man with winged hair. Alison laughed.
“So, I hear,” -punch- “you had,” -punch, punch- “company last night.” -kick-
Ali nodded. “Does that bother you?” she asked.
“Not at all.” Ororo jabbed the bag, followed by a knee. “I just don’t want it to effect the team.”
Alison thought for a moment, seemingly to genuinely consider that statement. “It won’t. At least not any more than Kurt and Kitty, or you and Wolverine.”
A full roundhouse kick separated the bag from the ceiling, sending it crashing to the floor.
“Ok, touchy subject,” Alison drawled. Ororo panted, unwrapping her hands. “Wanna talk?” Ali asked.
Ororo shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but there’s not much to talk about. He has Jean and I need to focus on my assignment.”
“Speaking of which, I think I just saw the delicious Mr. Shaw’s Hummer outside.”
Ororo glanced at the clock. Damn. It was quarter past eight, she was supposed to meet Xavier at eight thirty. “Thanks, Ali.”
Alison watched her friend jog out of the room and smiled. “Have fun!” she called after her.
“Where’s she going?” Wolverine sauntered in from the weight room.
Alison gave him a sly glance. “Date,” she said, walking out. She’d have to tell Kitty and Kurt not to reveal Storm’s assignment to Wolverine. Served him right after all, Ali decided. Anyone who messed with her friends got messed with in return.
Alison liked Wolverine, she really did. He reminded her of a stray dog she had once. Wild and untamed, feral and mean, but there was something under the exterior that made you want to reach out. Only problem was, much like the stray, you usually got your hand bit off.
Alison sighed. You’d have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to notice the tension between Storm and Wolverine, and despite her wanting to mess with him, Ali believed the two of them…well, fit. There was no other way to describe it. Storm and Wolverine fit together. Two halves of one whole. It was a rare thing, but there you have it. Soul mates. She shook her dark head. One night with Gambit and she was a friggin’ romantic. A slow smile spread across her lips. Speaking of Yummy…

Loft

Ororo stood in front of her closet, appraising her limited selection of clothes. She finally decided on a long white sundress with spaghetti straps and a ruffled trim. She slid on a pair of white sandals and piled her hair atop her head with a butterfly clip. She ran her hands over her stomach, flattening her dress. Good enough, she thought.
*Storm, I believe Shinobi is waiting for you in the parking lot.*
*I thought we were meeting in your office.*
*Change of plans.*
Ororo shrugged making her way to the front of the mansion. Stepping onto the sun drenched porch she pulled up short, her mouth falling open and she collapsed to the stairs laughing.
“I’m glad I amuse you.” Shinobi Shaw, billionaire playboy, and leader of an elite group of mutants stood against his black Hummer clad in a red and blue schoolgirl uniform, complete with pleated skirt and pigtails.
Storm couldn’t stop laughing. He looked so ridiculous. “Oh, my…” She collapsed again, her eyes watering.
“Am I forgiven?” He asked, his own lips quirked.
Ororo nodded, breathless from laughing so hard. Shinobi stepped forward, helping her to her feet. “I…don’t know what to say,” she said, looking him up and down.
Shinobi smiled ruefully, “Say I can change.”
Ororo laughed again. “I don’t know. I kind of like this look on you.”
“If it keeps that smile on your face, I will suffer it.”
“No. I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” Her cheeks hurt from laughing. Without thought she reached up and tugged one of his dark pigtails. “I didn’t expect this,” she said.
“I hope to show you that I am full of many unexpected things.” His eyes danced and Ororo was momentarily caught off guard. She was actually enjoying this.
“Um, should we go?” she asked.
“Of course.” Shinobi glanced at the doorway where several others now lingered, staring at him with open mouths. “Your friends are more than welcome as well,” he offered.
Storm looked over her shoulder. In the doorway stood Ali, Gambit and Wolverine. Behind them were Jean and Colossus.
“I’m in,” Ali said, rushing forward. She winked at Storm.
“Dat means me too,” Gambit added.
Shinobi nodded to both of them as they piled into his stretch Hummer. “Anyone else?”
Ororo looked over at the yard where several of the younger children were playing. Without her asking Shinobi said, “Of course. They’ll love the menagerie. Excuse me.” he moved towards the children, his skirt bouncing as he walked and Storm was assailed by another bout of giggles.
“It looks like your date is turning into a field trip,” Alison said. “What’s up with the uniform? Is he a little…” She tilted her hand back and forth, “in the head?”
“It’s a long story.” Storm said. She climbed into the Hummer. She was reaching to close the door when a hand wrapped around the edge.
“Not so fast. Four more coming.” Colossus said. Jean entered followed by Bobby and Wolverine. Colossus finished them off.
“A bit crowded, non?”
Shinobi approached the door. “I’ve called in another vehicle for the children.”
“Great. Let’s ride with them,” Ororo said, exiting the Hummer. “If you don’t mind.”
He shook his head. “Not at all. It will give me a chance to change.”
“Nice skirt, bub.”
Ororo gave him a cold stare.
Shinobi glanced at Wolverine. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Nope.” Wolverine glowered at him.
“Shaw. Shinobi Shaw.”
Wolverine grunted.
Ororo slammed the door shut. “Friendly fellow.” Shinobi said.
“He’s one of our ‘special’ students.”
“Oh.”

The entire place was exquisite, Ororo thought as the group walked along the long cobblestone path leading to the main entrance of Shaw Enterprise’s exotic plant conservatory and animal menagerie. The rather large group had arrived only minutes ago and already several excited squeals could be heard from the children. Lush plant fronds reached up towards the bright sun, and through the glass walls Ororo could make out several strange and wonderful creatures. As the children continued to giggle and gasp excitedly Ororo was happy they had brought them along. She looked behind her at Ali and Gambit, who were herding several youngsters, walking hand in hand and she smiled at them. They waved at her.
“It is to your liking?” Shinobi asked quietly as they walked. He had changed from the ridiculous schoolgirl outfit (and she still couldn’t believe he had actually worn it) into a pair of gray slacks and a black tee that hugged his well built form.
He was in all honesty a very attractive man. With dark long locks, and deep eyes he seemed to be a brooder, but more often than not Ororo caught those eyes on her, alight with devilment. He had a strong chin with a slight cleft and a straight nose over a full upper lip, giving him a seductive look. His brows were carefully arched and she got the impression he was big on grooming. Overall, the man looked like sex. There was really no other ay to describe the aura that hovered around him. It was similar to Wolverine’s, in that you were drawn to him, almost commanded to look at him and when you did you couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was. His looks stood out, again much like Wolverine, however, Wolverine exuded danger, sex, sex, sex, and animal magnetism that were unparalleled as far as Ororo was concerned, and Shinobi was a bit like Gambit, in that he seemed to give off an impression of seduction, though much darker than Gambit’s light flirtation. Shinobi made one think of wicked pleasures and forbidden desires. Ororo shook her head, he was a dangerous individual.
“Storm?”
She nodded finally answering his comment. “Yes, Mr. Shaw, this is very nice.”
He opened one large door. “Please, call me Shinobi.”
Ororo nodded again, her eyes drifting to where Wolverine was walking beside Jean, their heads bent in conversation. She tried to ignore the kick she felt in her gut, but it was persistent and in the end she had to look away. “Of course,” she said with a faint smile.
Shinobi glanced down at her. “Is something troubling you?”
“Not at all.“ After several minutes of silence. “I am a bit…thrown by this side of you. When we first met, I never would have pictured you guiding a field trip of children to an animal park.”
He grinned. “I had not intended to today,” he said. “But somehow I get the feeling you are not altogether comfortable with me…yet.”
She gave him a sidelong glance. Perceptive fellow. “I have an aversion to most men who try and lock me in a room and have their way with me.”
“I believe I explained that.” he said.
“I know, you thought I was fair game because I was in your risqué little club.”
Shinobi laughed. “Club Hellfire being mocked. I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Well, I never thought I’d see a man dressed in a catholic schoolgirl uniform just to please me.”
His dark brown gaze was intense. “There are many things I’d do to please you.”
“Okay, see there you go again, given me the willies.” Ororo walked a bit faster.
“I apologize.” Shinobi reached for her arm and instinctively Ororo slapped his hand away.
Wolverine’s head snapped around, gray eyes darkening, teeth slightly bared. “Storm?” His voice was borderline growl.
Ororo ignored him, taking a deep breath. “I’m fine.” she said softly, knowing he could hear her despite the several feet between them.
Jean tugged on his arm and Wolverine reluctantly turned back to her, but he slowed his pace, glancing over his shoulder occasionally.
“I don’t mean to offend you, Storm.” Shinobi held up his hands. “Honestly.”
“I’m not offended, Shaw.“ she said truthfully. “But you presume too much for our short acquaintance.”
Shinobi lead her to a large indoor fountain. The white marble glittered under the spray of water, the spurts fluctuating, delighting the children. “I won’t lie, Storm. I have every intention of trying to seduce you.”
It took a minute for the words to sink in. Storm looked at him, her mouth slightly open, her brows raised. Was he for real?
“It’s looks like those that make it damn near impossible to resist those delicious lips of yours.” Shinobi said, running one knuckle down her bare arm. She didn’t move away, surprising both Shinobi and herself, just stared at him with questioning blue eyes.
“You are either very confident, or very stupid.”
“Perhaps a bit of both.” he agreed. “But, I don’t want us to start off on false pretenses. I like you from what I’ve seen, but as you pointed out we are only briefly acquainted. Therefore, I must acknowledge that my attraction is also based on the physical.” His smile deepened. “And I am very much into the physical.”
“Uh-huh.” Storm moved back slightly, but not completely away, turning to the water, watching the ripples.
“Have I ruined my chances?”
Storm felt a real smile tug at her mouth. “No. I prefer honesty. Always.”
From the opposite side of the fountain Wolverine bared his fangs, growling low in his throat, having heard every word the slick fucker was saying to Storm.
Gambit stepped beside him. “I ‘old ‘im down, you carve.” His red on black eyes shimmered, his jaw clenched. “Two bit piece of Euro-trash makin’ moves on Stormy.”
Wolverine grunted. If Gumbo wasn’t careful he may start to like the guy. “What’s the story here, Cajun? Why‘s Storm all the sudden so hot‘n heavy for the slime ball?”
Gambit looked surprised. “You don’ know?”
“Know what?”
“Merde.” Gambit glared at Ali, knowing she had somehow managed to keep Wolverine out of the loop.
Alison shrugged, looking at her thick black boots as if they fascinated her.
“Know what?” Wolverine repeated impatiently.
“It’s her job to fuck information out of Shaw.” Jean came from behind, sliding her hand along his back. “Sorry, Wolverine, but that‘s what your team is trying not to tell you. Storm is to ‘pump‘ Shinobi Shaw for information.”
“Bitch, I suggest you step the fuck off,” Alison said heatedly. “How in the hell do you even know about Storm’s assignment anyway? Reading minds without permission, Jean? How very tactful of you. What’s the matter, Marvel girl? Jealous Xavier didn’t think you’d be a desirable enough distraction?”
Gambit stepped between them, a small smile on his face. “Come on, Ali. I t’ink you made your point. We go see Stormy, non?”
“No, Gambit. I have a few more words for miss high and mighty here.”
“Now’s not da time, petite.” Gambit circled her wrist with his agile fingers, bringing the palm of her hand to his lips. “We ‘ave ot’er concerns, like a group of mischievous children t’ look after.”
Alison felt the fight seep out of her at his touch. Damn the man! “Fine, but the evil red-headed stepchild is gonna get hers eventually.” She said when they were out of earshot.
Gambit chuckled. “Of dat I ‘ave no doubts, but from da look on Stormy’s face last night you may ‘ave t’ stand in line.”
Alison smiled at that. “Storm was pissed, wasn’t she? She hid it well, at least from me, until this morning. Did I tell you she took out a heavy bag with one kick?”
“Storm’s very good at ‘iding ‘ow she feels.” Gambit confirmed. “Always been dat way wit’ my padnat. Never get close, never get ‘urt.”
Alison paused, glancing at him. “You two seem awfully tight.”
“We are. Stormy be my greatest love.”
Alison looked away scowling. Gambit cupped her chin. “Don’ do dat, chere. Stormy and me are…bonded, but not lovers. Not like you and Gambit, non?”
“You’re terrible, Gambit,” Alison said, but she smiled. “Have you ever wanted to be?” She asked after another minute, unable to let it go completely. “I mean she’s gorgeous. Any man would want to, you know…”
“No.” Gambit was very firm. “She’s my sister, chere. I’ll leave da gross interfamily relationships t’ Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver.”
Alison laughed. “Ok. Point well taken. Now let’s go rescue Storm from Shaw. Although, and don’t hate me here, Yummy, I don’t think her being involved with Shinobi is such a bad idea.”
“Weren’t you da one dat said da Shaws was bad news?”
“They are,” she confirmed, “but if the Professor’s putting her in the lion’s den anyway, why not enjoy herself?”
Gambit frowned, not replying, looking over his shoulder at Wolverine, who was once again involved in discussion with Jean. His red eyes narrowed. As much as he was loathe to admit it, Gambit knew Storm loved Wolverine. He had never seen her crack before and the first night he had arrived at the Institute something the other man had done had made Stormy cry. She had tried to hide it by taking a shower, but at the first drops of rain against the windows Gambit had known and it had troubled him.
“Hey you guys!” Colossus hollered interrupting Gambit’s inner thoughts. The rather large man called out from inside a huge glass room, in which he was surrounded by sleek panthers. “This is amazing! Storm come look!”
“On my way, Petey!” Ororo moved away from Shinobi, where she had been standing motionless for several minutes, neither of them talking, simply looking at each other. The back of her head ached a bit, Ororo noticed, but dismissed it as the bright sun and no sunglasses.
Once inside Ororo was enthralled with the foreign wildlife and exclusive plants. She caressed lush petals and inhaled delicious scents. This place was remarkable, she thought. A paradise.
“You seem right at home here,” Shinobi commented, moving beside her. “Like you could be an Earthly Goddess.”
Storm blushed, pushing a stray lock of colorless hair behind her ear. “I don’t think I’ve ever been mistaken for one of those before. A demon maybe…”
Shinobi grinned. “I was right. There is a devilish side to you after all.”
“Perhaps.” Ororo strolled away from him and Shinobi watched with an appreciative eye the gentle sway of her hips through the white of her dress.
“Enjoying the view, Bub?”
Shinobi turned, looking into glinting eyes of steel gray. “Wolverine, wasn’t it?’ He gave Wolverine an assessing stare. “Your reputation precedes you, Wolverine. Imagine, an assassin of your skill and notoriety reduced to babysitting. How very unexciting for you.”
Wolverine ignored the comments and snarled. “Storm ain’t yer type.”
A lazy smile split the other man’s face. “I think she is.”
“I’m only gonna warn ya once. Creep yer sorry ass back ta whatever slimy rock ya crawled out of, before I send ya back in pieces.”
Shinobi was silent, then, “Is she yours? Should I lift her skirt so you can piss on her leg?”
Wolverine growled.
“I didn’t think so. Storm doesn’t strike me as the type to stray. Can the same be said for your other woman?” Shinobi glanced pointedly at Jean who was speaking with Colossus near the monkey exhibit. She was laughing at something the large Russian was saying, her hand on his arm.
“She ain’t my woman.” Wolverine snapped.
“Which one? Both? Perhaps some of your reputation was exaggerated. You are rumored to be an exceptional lover.” Shinobi’s smile turned mildly sensual. “Are you?”
Wolverine’s ebony brows shot down and he leaned close growling, “Ya fuck wit’ Storm and I’ll see yer sorry ass filleted and mounted. And not in any way ya’d like ya sick fuck.”
Shinobi’s smile broadened. “So protective. A big brother perhaps?”
“Non, dat’d be me.” Gambit strolled up on Shinobi’s other side. “Wolverine, let’s go.”
“Not until Skippy here agrees ta stay away from Storm.”
Despite the intimidation from both powerful mutants Shaw seemed nonplussed. He smiled and said, “I want nothing more than to make her smile.“ He nodded to both men, then moved away, joining Storm who was now with Colossus and Jean.
“He’s lying.” Wolverine growled.
“No shit, homme.” Gambit frowned as Shinobi touched Storm’s hair, and she flinched. It was almost indiscernible but he saw it.
“She’s uncomfortable,” Wolverine said, clearly irritated.
“Yes. She don’ like t’ be touched.”
Wolverine recalled several previous occasions when she’d said as much to him. “You touch her.” He said to Gambit.
“I don’ want t’ screw ‘er.” Gambit returned, his eyes hard.
Wolverine looked back at Storm, who glanced at him over the gentle curve of one caramel shoulder. “What happened?”
Gambit sighed. Storm would kill him, he knew, but something in Wolverine’s intense gaze told him he could trust him. “She was attacked.”
Wolverine tensed. “Attacked?”
“Oui.” Another deep breath. “She doesn’t talk about it.”
Wolverine scowled, his eyes turning black. “When?”
“She was twelve.” Gambit sat on one of the many strategically placed boulders around the conservatory. “Stormy, was always beautiful. She was admired from da time Papa and I took ‘er in. Women and men would stop us and remark on what a beautiful li’l girl we ‘ad. It was common.” Gambit swallowed.
“Go on.” Wolverine was tense.
“So, no one saw it unusual when one of da Guild regulars said da same t’ing. Always saying ‘ow pretty she was, ‘ow sweet she smiled.” Gambit spat on the ground. “He was always touching ‘er ‘air, kissing her cheeks. Not‘in real noticeable, but lookin‘ back da signs were dere. We was jus’ too blind ta see…Den, one night when Papa and me was out on a job, da man broke into our ‘ome. Stormy was alone, asleep in ‘er bed.”
Wolverine felt his blood run cold.
“She fought.” Gambit smiled faintly. “She always fights. Dere was a struggle and she stabbed ‘im.”
“Stabbed him?”
Gambit nodded. “Since before she lived wit’ us she slept wit’ a blade under ‘er pillow. She still does. I’ll be ‘appy when da day comes it ain’t dere, cause dat’ll mean she feels safe. Somet’in I don’ t’ink Stormy ‘as ever felt.”
“What happened then?” Wolverine asked, his heavy gaze on Storm. She was petting a pale cockatiel, smiling at something Shinobi was saying. Wolverine ran one hand through his unruly hair, exhaling, waiting for Gambit to continue.
“She ran. Papa and me found ‘er two days later in da subway. A very clever place for ‘er t’ hide.”
“Why?”
“She’s a claustrophobe. Being underground…well, let’s jus’ say she’s not comfortable wit‘ dat eit‘er. Anyway, we found ‘er. She was frantic, thinking she’d killed da man.”
“She didn’t?”
“Non.”
“What happened to him?”
“I killed ‘im.” Gambit said it without a trace of remorse and Wolverine nodded. “Made ‘im eat a deck of cards.” Yup, he liked the Cajun.
Gambit was continuing. “I don’ t’ink dat’s da only reason for ‘er fear of touch, but it magnified ‘er dislike of it and now, I’m just about da only one she let’s get close.” Gambit paused. “And you.”
Wolverine was surprised. He wasn’t sure how much Gambit knew of him and Storm. “I ain’t gonna hurt her.”
“Ya already have, Wolverine.” Gambit stood. “Do ‘er a favor and stay away. This assignment is important to Xavier, and I don’t t’ink she can do it wit’ you around.”
Wolverine grimaced. “What exactly does Xavier want her ta do?”
“Get close, get information.” Gambit rotated stiff shoulders. “Dat be all, not what your Jean said.”
“She ain’t my Jean,” he snarled. “And fer the record, Gumbo, I can think fer myself.” He looked at Storm. “She’ll be fine. She’s a strong leader.” Without another word Wolverine stalked away, his mind running through everything Gambit had just told him. Christ.

Later

“Well?” Wolverine asked Jean as she stepped from the med lab.
“Positive.” Jean cried, her green eyes running over.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Your sure?”
“I just said positive,” she snapped. “What are we going to do?”
Wolverine shook his head. “I don’t know. I need a second here, Red.” He took a deep breath. Fuck!!! He wanted to slam his fist through a wall. “Well, first thing we do is get you whatever medical appointments ya need ta stay healthy.”
“Of course.”
Wolverine began pacing. “I need some air.” He left the lab, shoulders hunched.
“How’d he take it?” Henry McCoy asked stepping from the examination room.
“Pretty good,” Jean smiled.
“Just pretty good? I figured the man would be ecstatic.” Hank shook his furry head. “Go figure.”
Jean crossed her arms, her smile evolving into a grin. “Yes, go figure.”

Xavier Institute
1 am

Ororo rolled onto her side, blinking weary eyes. Something had woken her. She lay in silence for a minute, the only sound her shallow breathing.
~tink~
There it was again.
Ororo stood, moving towards her balcony windows where the sound came from.
~tink~
A small pebble struck the glass. Ororo opened the door, stepping into the balmy night air, the gentle breeze molding her nightdress to her legs. Below her in the shadows Shinobi Shaw stood dressed as casually as she‘d ever seen the man dress, a dark blue pair of jeans and long sleeved red shirt, marked with a black dragon in the center. He smiled up at her, a completely boyish smile that threw her. “Hi,” he whispered.
“Uh, hi,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
Shinobi gestured to the picnic basket at his feet. “I thought maybe I could interest you in a midnight snack.”
Ororo was surprised to say the least. They had already been out several times since her visit to Shaw Enterprise’s Conservatory two weeks ago. She thought of her previous dates with Shinobi and felt a small smile tug on her mouth. He was surprisingly pleasant company, she had come to realize. His blatant honesty about wanting to seduce her should have frightened her, but instead it actually made her more comfortable. It made things a lot easier for her, knowing his intentions. With Shinobi she didn’t have to worry about hidden motives, or mixed signals. He laid it out straight, he wanted her. Simple. Despite his forward statement and occasional suggestive comments he was always a perfect gentleman, surprisingly funny and unquestionably bold. He was…interesting. He had taken her to the Opera, which despite his assurances she had loathed, then to the theatre, which she had loved, and the two trips back to the Conservatory, minus the crowd of people, and now he offered a surprise picnic.
“How did you get past security?” she whispered.
“You have security?” he teased.
Ororo leaned over the railing. “Apparently not.”
“Well?” he prompted.
“Where’s your entourage?” She asked, referring to the minimum three body guards and several associates that were always hovering around him.
He smirked a bit. “Probably still guarding my bedroom door. They believe I’m…entertaining.”
Ororo laughed. “Ah. And were you?”
“Not tonight.” Shinobi held out his hand. “Come with me.”
The man was temptation. Ororo looked over her shoulder, wondering if she should tell the others she was leaving. No, better not. Gambit would throw a hissy fit. “Let me change,” she called back.
“Why? I think you look captivating.”
Ororo said nothing, shaking her head and grabbing a pair of jeans, pulling on a standard issue gray sweatshirt, and her canvas sneakers. She jogged towards the railing, leaping over and floating to the ground.
“Shall we?” Shinobi held out his hand.
Ororo hesitated only a moment, then she took it, his strong fingers interlacing with hers.
After the blanket was spread on the grass, and the dinner laid out, Shinobi said, “Tell me about yourself.” He sat cross-legged near her, eating, of all things, a ham and swiss sandwich.
“Not much to tell,” she said biting into her own sandwich.
“I find that exceedingly difficult to believe.”
“How about you start,” she countered.
Shinobi shrugged one broad shoulder. “What would you like to know?”
“Hmm…anything?”
“Nearly.”
“Okay.” She thought for a moment, slowly chewing her food. “Favorite movie?”
Shinobi smiled. “Any western, particularly Steve McQueen.”
Ororo laughed. “John Wayne for me.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“Give me an impersonation.”
“No.”
“I bet you do a mean pilgrim.” He grinned.
Ororo smiled, biting into her sandwich. “Moving on,” she said. “What about hobbies.”
Shinobi’s smile faded. “I don’t believe my hobbies would interest you.”
She looked at him. “Why not?”
He leaned back, unfurling his legs and resting on his elbows. “My life has been…blessed with excess,” he said carefully. “I have money, I have power but I grow bored easily. At times the things I do to amuse myself are not the things most would deem appropriate.”
Ororo put her sandwich down. “I may surprise you.”
He tilted his head, dark strands of hair falling against his cheek.. “You are a constant surprise, Storm.”
She reached out, brushing the strands away before she caught herself. He made no move to stop her, or grab her so she relaxed. “I still want to know bout you,” she said.
“Very well, fire away.”
“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” She returned to the soft questions.
“You forget, Storm. I’m richer than God, I can go anywhere in the world.” His gaze was steady. “I’m right where I want to be.”
Ororo felt her cheeks bloom. “Oh.”
Shinobi sat up. “My turn. Where are you from? You have a very faint accent.”
“I was born in Harlem, but lived in Egypt until I was eight.”
“Your Egyptian?”
She nodded. “My mother’s native land.”
“She must be very beautiful.”
Ororo looked at the sky, watching the stars. “She’s dead.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“You didn’t know.” She forced a smile. “Okay, me again.”
“Hey, I only got one question.”
“Yes, but you didn’t answer my second question, thus forfeiting a second question of your own.”
“Oh, I see how you work,“ he laughed.
Ororo shifted her weight, leaning on her elbow, facing him. “Tell me something about yourself that you think I can’t handle.”
Shinobi became still. There was a long pause, then he sighed. “The night I first saw you at the club, I masturbated while you danced. And I wasn‘t alone.”
Ororo raised one eyebrow. “That’s it?”
“That’s not enough?”
“I saw what was going on in the upstairs of that club. Nothing you could say about that place would surprise me. Besides, you never struck me as mister straight and narrow.”
He was mildly surprised by her easy acceptance she could tell. In truth the idea of him touching himself well he watched her dance was unsettling, but she knew many a male who did the same thing in the shower. Granted they didn’t have an audience, but from what Gambit told her growing up, if they were horny enough, it wouldn’t matter if they did.
“And what about you, Storm? Do you travel the straight and narrow?” He had shifted again, leaning towards her.
“Mostly,” she said softly.
“Yeah…?”
“Yeah.” Her lips tingled with anticipation. His lips were soft and undemanding, brushing hers in light strokes. Ororo’s eyes drifted shut as he wrapped one hand behind her head, his fingers massaging her scalp.
He pulled back slightly, his brown eyes heavy lidded with desire. “Should I stop?” he whispered.
“In a minute,” she smiled.
Shinobi returned his mouth to hers, slowly cajoling her to part her lips, allowing him access to her inner recess. As his tongue met hers, Ororo’s fingers clenched and she felt a wave of guilt assail her. Wolverine….Her heart cried out for him. No, he was Jean’s! And Shinobi was here, and he felt so good…Where in the hell did that thought come from?
He pulled back again, his breathing slightly erratic. “If I don’t stop now, I may not be able to.”
Ororo scootched back. “Then we stop.”
Shinobi stroked his hand down her hair. “All right.” He was serious as he said, “All you ever have to do is say the word, and we’ll go as fast or as slow as you need.”
Ororo closed her eyes. Damn, why did he have to be so…different, than she had first envisioned. “Thank you,” she said.
“No, thank you, Storm. You are a rare treasure, and I would be a fool to not see that.”
She smiled. “Favorite ice-cream?”
Shinobi laughed.


Xavier Institute
Morning


Ororo chewed the end of her Bic ballpoint thoughtfully, looking at the notes she had scribbled on the yellow legal pad in front of her. She jotted down another thought, then blindly reached across the kitchen table for her coffee mug. She sipped the dark steaming liquid and sighed. Oh, caffeine…heavenly bliss. She returned the mug to its resting place and continued to write.
Trapped deep in thought, the smooth voice over her shoulder startled her. “Morning, padnat.” Gambit kissed her cheek, his early morning stubble tickling against her skin.
Ororo gave him a disgruntled look for jumping her. “Good Morning, Remy.”
Gambit took the seat directly across from her, watching her with hooded eyes. “Whatchya workin’ on, chere?”
“Hm? Oh, I’m making plans for the fall semester. Summer break is right around the corner and Xavier wants me to teach a Botany class next semester. I thought I’d get a head start. I’m thinking of adding a field trip to Shaw’s Conservatory to the schedule.”
“Mmhm.”
“What?”
Gambit leaned towards her on his elbows, steepling his fingers against his chin. “Don’ you t’ink you’re spending’ way too much time wit’ dat guy?”
Storm shrugged one shoulder. “I’m supposed to spend time with him, Gambit.”
“You’ve been out wit’ dat man like five times in two weeks, Stormy. Dat’s a bit much even for your assignment, non?”
Storm tilted her head, a cascade of soft hair falling over her arm. “No.”
Gambit frowned. “Don’ let it get personal, chere.”
Ororo thought of their picnic last night and the hours of conversation she‘d enjoyed with Shinobi. “He’s just a mark.” she replied after a moment, returning to her notes.
Gambit didn’t respond, watching her. She looked up annoyed. “What?”
“Not’in’.” He leaned back in his chair, rocking it to and fro, a sly smile on his handsome face.
“Isn’t there somewhere else you could be? Someone else you could be irritating?”
Gambit held his hand over his heart. “Ah, you wound me, Stormy.”
“I just may if you keep calling me that ridiculous name.”
He chuckled. “Papa’s gonna call tonight,” he said after a moment.
Storm brightened. “Really? I‘d love to talk to Papa-Jean.”
Gambit nodded. “Dat is if your even ’ome and not out on some whirlwind romance wit’ Shaw.”
Storm wrinkled her nose and poked out her tongue.
“That’s mature.” Jean said, walking through the swinging door with Wolverine, catching the last of the exchange.
As always Ororo’s breath caught at the sight of him. Although she’d seem him almost everyday, training with the team, they hadn’t spoken more than ten words to each other, and still the effect he had on her only increased daily.
He looked gorgeous this morning in a black muscle shirt and faded jeans, black boots, an open flannel and a cowboy hat, oohhh, the cowboy hat. Ororo felt her heart hammer against her ribs. Damn him.
Despite the wrenching in her gut at the sight of the reunited couple, Ororo managed a smile over the rim of her coffee cup . “Maturity is overrated, Marvel Girl.” She sipped and suddenly grimaced.
“What’s da matter?” Gambit asked.
“It’s gone cold.“ Storm teasingly accused. “Someone was distracting me with their blathering.”
Gambit grinned. “I distract you?”
“You are incorrigible.” Ororo muttered.
“I love when you talk dirty,” He winked at her.
“Do you flirt with everyone that moves?” Jean said to Storm, seating herself at the table. Storm rolled her eyes.
One corner of Gambit’s mouth turned up. “So, chere, where are you and Shinobi off t’ today.” He intentionally ignored Jean, and brought up a subject he knew irritated the shit out of Wolverine. The other day Gambit had trained with him in the Danger Room and at the mere mention of Storm and Shinobi Wolverine had unsheathed his claws and practically brought the room down around their ears.
“Yer seein’ that dirt bag again?” Wolverine growled, opening the fridge and pulling out a beer.
Jean gave him disapproving look. “It’s a little early don’t you think?”
“No.” Wolverine turned to Storm and demanded, “Are you?”
Leveling him a cool look she said , “As a matter of fact, no. I hadn’t planned on seeing Shinobi today. He has meetings and I have training.”
“Meetings, right.” Wolverine snorted. “Yer takin’ yer sweet time with this assignment, Storm.”
“It’s only been two weeks. What would you have me do, Wolverine. Say, Gee, Shinobi, would you mind spilling the dirt on your dad and giving me the combination to your safe? I‘d sure appreciate it.”
“I’d have the information by now,” Jean said confidently, giving Wolverine a smile.
Looking at her Wolverine grimaced. Why had he ever found her attractive? Sure she was pretty enough, but her personality left much to be desired. When the hell did he start caring what their personalities were like? He snapped open his beer, taking a long drink. Since he’d met a woman who made him laugh, who stood her ground, who inspired him to want to be more than a viscous killer. He glared at Storm accusingly.
Ororo looked at Jean. “No you wouldn‘t. Shinobi‘s not easily manipulated. He thinks, and he calculates. He‘s a very astute individual.” Ororo stated, drawing shocked looks from both Gambit and Wolverine. There was far too much admiration in her voice as far as both men were concerned.
“And not to mention he’s dynamite in the sack,” Alison said, strolling through the door, stifling a yawn.
Gambit shot her a narrow look. Wolverine rumbled.
“So I’ve heard,” Ali added with a shrug, making her way to the coffee pot.
Storm laughed ruffling Gambit’s hair. “She’s a handful,” she whispered.
“So are you,” he countered.
“I’ll see you later.” She said gathering her things, heading towards the swinging doors.
“Storm, wait up.” Ignoring Jean’s scowl Wolverine followed Storm into the living room.
Giving him an impatient look she asked, “What?”
Wolverine scowled at her. “I don’t trust, Shaw.”
“I don’t think we’re supposed to. That’s kind of the point behind my assignment.” She moved to walk away. He stepped in front of her.
“The guy is dangerous. I did some research, he’s a womanizer, a playboy and a suspected murderer, for Christ’s sake.”
“How does that make him any less redeemable than you?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
Wolverine flinched as if she’d slapped him.
“Oh, hey, I didn’t mean--”
“Just watch yerself, kid. I‘d hate ta see ya get hurt.” He walked away, back stiff, head bent.
Ororo sighed. Perfect.

Danger Room Turret
Three hours later

“Can I get a word, Chuck?”
“Of course, Wolverine.”
Wolverine leaned against the console, crossing his arms over his chest. “Pull her off the Shaw assignment.”
Professor Xavier, examined a printed readout . “I appreciate your…concern… for Storm, but she is quite capable of handling herself.”
Wolverine grunted. “Look, there are some things you may not be aware of,” he began.
“I am aware.” Xavier interrupted, lifting his gaze to Wolverine’s. “Anything else?”
Wolverine growled. “If ya know about her past, how in the hell can ya send her on an assignment that requires her ta get close with the scumbag?”
Xavier’s mouth thinned. “Take a look down there, Wolverine, and you’ll get your answer.”
Stepping past the Professor Wolverine peered through the glass, taking in the room below. It was dark, the only illumination provided by several red lasers, rotating about the room.
“It’s almost an exact replica of Shinobi Shaw’s home.” Xavier said.
Below in the Danger Room Wolverine noticed a lithe figure dressed in one of the X-Men’s skintight black pajama suits, entering through a window, dropping to the floor silently. Storm. He’d recognize her anywhere, even with her face cloaked by a mask and snow hair hidden. As he watched she moved forward, arching her back, maneuvering her body around the laser beams, doing acrobatics Olympic gymnasts would envy. She paused, on her hands, her legs in the air, bent at impossible angles, and he could almost hear her counting, waiting for the rotation. Sure enough, as the lights began to move, so did she, slinking past and under the last of them. She stood in front of a bare wall. Wolverine stood transfixed, watching her slide her hands against the surface, wondering what she was doing.
Once again Xavier spoke. “She’s sending small currents of electricity through the wall, when they come in contact with the safe, she’ll know where to extract. She’s the best chance we have of getting in and getting what I’m after.”
“And what is that exactly, Chuck?”
“Artifacts.”
“My ass.”
“Whether you like it or not, Wolverine, I am in charge of this institution and my orders stand. Storm is the best shot we have of infiltrating Shaw’s home.”
Wolverine snarled, “Ya have a god damn replica of the guys home. Send the Cajun.”
“I need more than a good thief, Wolverine. I need information.” Xavier rolled back. “Storm holds some sort of fascination for young Shaw, and if need be, we’ll exploit that.”
“What about her?”
“Storm will do her job, Wolverine. She has no choice.” With those words Xavier wheeled himself from the room, leaving Wolverine growling after him.
Ororo felt the latch give and the safe open. She smiled triumphantly. “End program,” she said and the lights flickered back on, the interactive holograms vanishing. Ororo gasped at Wolverine, who was leaning against the wall, staring at her.
She yanked her mask off. “How did you get in here?”
“You think yer the only sneaky one around here?”
Ororo shook her head. “No, I think there are plenty of sneaky people here. What can I do for you, Wolverine?”
“Ask ta be let off the Shaw assignment.”
Ororo sighed. “Are we back to that? Wolverine, let it go.”
Wolverine stalked towards her. “I can’t let it go. I’m worried about ya.”
“Don’t be. I’m fine.” She stepped away from him.
“Don’t.” his voice was rough. “Don’t walk away from me.”
Ororo lowered her head. “What do you want, Wolverine?” her voice was very tired.
Instead of vocalizing any answer he lifted her chin with his thumb and forefinger, gazing into her swimming blue eyes. “This,” he kissed her. His mouth covered hers, his lips possessing hers gently, he nipped and tugged, but didn’t pressure. Then she made small sound of acceptance and he was lost, jacketing her with his arms, holding her close, deepening the kiss.
Ororo moaned, her arms wrapping around his neck, a sob in her throat. The kiss was long and full of everything left unsaid the past few weeks and Ororo’s chest hurt. She pulled away. “I can’t.”
“’Ro.”
“No, Wolverine. Jean is who you need to be concerned about.”
“I don’t love her. I…”He stopped.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Ororo stepped from his arms and he let her, very reluctantly. “I need to go.”
“Yeah.” Wolverine turned away from her.
Ororo wanted to comfort him, she could see the pain in his eyes, but it hurt her too much. Jean, was with him again and pregnant with Logan’s child. Hell, that fact had lead Cyclops to disappear with Hank into parts unknown., and made her stomach roll.
Before she reached the door Wolverine caught the scent of saline and his gut tightened. All he ever did was hurt her, it seemed. Fuck.


Lunch
Student Cafeteria

“Hi, Kitten.” Ororo slid into the chair beside the young woman.
Kitty didn‘t even glance up. “Hey.”
Storm studied the other girl for a moment. Her normally sparkling honey eyes were flat and no perky smile graced her pretty freckled face. “Why so down?”
Kitty sighed. “It’s Kurt. He won’t sit with me in here because he’s afraid of what people will say.”
Ororo was surprised. Kurt had been doing so well. “What happened.”
Kitty jerked her head towards Jean’s table, where she sat with Warren, Colossus, a girl named Dani, and several other mutants that Ororo didn’t recognize. “What happened?” Ororo asked very softly.
“Kurt, commented on her… on her…you know, and she said, and I’m quoting here, ‘Yes, thankfully I won’t have to worry about any blue furred freaks in my family.’”
Ororo tensed.
“I told him to ignore her, but, he’s been real withdrawn.”
“When did this happen?”
“Yesterday.”
Ororo shifted, glaring at the redhead. “Why wasn’t I told?”
Kitty shrugged. “Kurt didn’t want to bother you with it. Said something about it just being words.”
“Damn.” Ororo stood.
“Where are you going?”
“To make a certain princess eat some words.” She marched towards Jean’s table, her eyes frosting. Once there Ororo slammed the flat of her palms into the table, jarring the food trays and spilling some drinks.
Jean looked up at her, a small smile on her porcelain face. “Storm.”
“Next time you open your mouth, I want you to think real hard about what it is you’re about to say. You’re a telepath, Jean, you know what hurts and you use it like some childish little girl. I’m sick of watching people bow down and kiss your worthless feet. It‘s not right.” Ororo glared *You reading me?* She sent out an image of Jean’s flesh melting away as lightening tore through her body.
Jean jerked away from the table and over Storm’s shoulder caught sight of Wolverine bearing down on them.
*Eat shit, cow. I only told your worthless little freak-show what you’re too chickenshit to say. Besides, what‘s a two-bit thief and murderer doing lecturing me on right and wrong. At least I didn‘t crush my mother‘s skull under a ton of rubble.*
“Bitch.” Ororo’s lip curled back and she reached for Jean’s throat.
“Oohhh,” Jean moaned, backing away, clutching her stomach.
-SNIKT- Ororo was pulled back by her hair, three blades pressed to her neck. “What the fuck are ya doin’, Storm?”
Storm’s eyes returned to normal, reflecting a look of absolute disgust at him. “Put them away, Wolverine, before I turn you into a lightning rod,” she hissed. For a minute he didn’t move, just stood glaring at her, claws extended and fangs bared.
Wolverine retracted, rounding the table and rubbing Jean’s shoulders. “You all right, darlin‘?”
Ororo couldn’t stomach it, the sight of him, comforting her…that witch, and she walked away. As she crossed the now silent cafeteria she was overwhelmed by a mental images of Jean and Wolverine, together, writhing and moaning in ecstasy. Memories, she realized that Jean was sending to her in graphic detail. Wolverine’s mouth on her chest, his hands in her hair as he entered her, his hoarse voice saying deliciously wicked things to her…to Jean. For a moment Ororo faltered, her body staggering under the heavy emotional toll so many images wrought. More pictures, saturating her consciousness…. Jean screaming in release… Wolverine growling and sweat slicked. Ororo placed her hand to her head, but the images and emotions were relentless. She felt a burning sensation behind her ears and knew that the neural inhibitors Xavier had made for her were burning out. No. No! She tried to fight the mental onslaught and regain control. Thunder boomed overhead, lightening crashing into the ground, and the cafeteria darkened as black clouds swirled overhead. Ororo pressed her hands to her eyes, trying to block it all out, knowing it was futile. Stay in control!! Stay in control! Suddenly memories of her mother surfaced, her beautiful face bloodied, her eyes glazing as she welcomed death, her hand icy in Ororo’s grasp, the heavy weight on her chest, the air hard to breathe as her home collapsed around her. Jean was brutal and Ororo wanted to scream.
An blast of air shattered the windows, the explosion sending shards of glass across the room at dangerous velocity, causing everyone to dive under the tables except Wolverine and Storm, and effectively breaking Jean’s hold on Storm.
“Stormy!” Gambit rushed the cafeteria, catching her as her legs gave way, her body pierced with glass in several places, blood running from her face, and arms. He glared at Jean and Wolverine. “What did you do?!”
*Gambit! Bring her to me!* Xavier summoned.
Gambit lifted Storm into his arms. As Wolverine approached them, Gambit swore at him, “You miserable, Salaud! Stay away from her.” He raced her through the halls. “I’m ‘ere, padnat.”
Storm made no reply, clutching her hand over her ears, the roaring unbearable. “Help me, Gambit! Before he gets in, help me!!” She clutched his shoulders. “Don’t let him in!!” She was screaming now, her eyes stark white. Wind howled and thunder cracked. Gambit’s feet flew across the carpet, down the halls, to Xavier’s office. He kicked the door open and rushed inside.
“Lay her down,” Xavier motioned to the long leather couch in the corner.
Gambit laid her down gently. “It’s all right, chere.”
Ororo struggled to sit, a raw scream tearing from her throat. “Help me!!”
“Leave us,” Xavier commanded.
Gambit shook his head. “Non.”
“*NOW!*” It was both a verbal and mental command that Gambit had no choice but to obey.
Gambit rested his head against the slammed door, his palm flat on the surface. He heard the distinct sound of a lock clicking into place. “Oh, Padnat, not again…”
“What’s going on?” Wolverine came up behind Gambit.
A blood curdling scream came from the locked room, reverberating around them, then a deep silence.
Wolverine’s claws burst forth. “Move.”
“You can’t get in. Xavier’s wit’ ‘er.”
Wolverine felt his chest tighten, every breath harsh. “What happened, Gumbo?”
Gambit whirled on him. “Go away, Wolverine. She doesn’t need you now.”
The door opened and Xavier rolled out. “Professor?” Gambit asked.
“She’s sleeping. I’ve sent for Warren to come cleanse her wounds.”
“What happened?” Wolverine snarled, patience gone.
“That question would be best directed at Jean, Wolverine.” Xavier said mildly. “And I plan to ask her myself.”
“She’s resting.” Wolverine stated. in a tone that said he would make sure she stayed that way.
Xavier closed his eyes, then, “I see. Perhaps this situation is best left until tomorrow.”
“I’m here.” Warren said, flying down the hall, medical bag in hand. As Xavier rolled back allowing Warren entry Wolverine was startled by what he saw. Ororo’s head was crowned with some sort of electronic device, with blinking lights, two rods seemingly embedded into her temples.
“What the hell is that for?” His voice was a deep rumble.
“Protection.” Xavier said calmly.
“What’s she need to be protected from?” Gambit asked, glancing at Wolverine.
“It’s not for her. It’s for us.” Xavier rolled back into the office, closing the door with a solid click.

Xavier Institute
Westchester, New York


Sunshine was pouring through the semi-open skylight and her sheer white curtains danced playfully in the warm afternoon breeze. Ororo blinked several times, trying to focus her blurry eyes. She was still very groggy, even though she‘d slept a large part of the past forty-eight hours away. Xavier had commanded her to rest and she had not bothered to argue, too drained from Jean’s attack and the removal and reinsertion of her neural inhibitors. She touched her forehead, groaning. She had a killer migraine. Trying not to jostle herself too much Ororo scooted herself back against her stack of pillows, her elbow rubbing against a warm body.
Ororo turned with a welcome smile for who she assumed to be Gambit only to have it freeze on her face. Wolverine lay next to her, bare chested, clad only in dark pants, revealing his well muscled abdomen and the hair covered broad expanse of his chest, one well muscled arm lay across his head, his sullen mouth parted in sleep. What the hell?
Sensing her eyes on him Wolverine opened one dark eye. “Hey you.”
Ororo just stared.
Logan sat up slowly. “I bet you’re wondering what I’m doing here?“
She nodded slowly so as not to induce another stab of pain through her temples.
“I know Chuck said ya weren’t ta be disturbed, but I needed ta see ya, ’Ro. I needed ta make sure you were all right. Yer developing a real knack fer scaring the shit outta me, y’know.” He explained, propping himself beside her. “I needed ta be near ya.” His voice lowered and the husky rumble sent shivers along her spine.
“So you broke into my room?” Her voice was hoarse.
He shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.” He slipped from the bed, easy enough to do considering he was on top of the covers, and went to her bathroom. She watched him walk, noticing how fluid he moved. That was a man very comfortable in his own skin. He came back with a small Dixie cup filled with tap water. “Here.”
Ororo took the small cup gratefully, swallowing carefully. Her throat was sore, like she had a cold. Or screamed herself numb…Ororo’s brow furrowed.
“’Roro?”
She looked down at the bedding, not wanting to look at him. Logan. Sharp pain in her head. Ororo grimaced, her breath hissing from clenched teeth.
“Are you all right?” He was at her side in an instant, his hands cradling her face, concern on his, forcing her to look at him.
Ororo winced at the sight of the man who held her heart, because it meant she had to remember everything that had transpired between them, how he had hurt her, the horrible memories of him kissing, holding, touching Jean, her guilt over attacking a pregnant woman, the lingering guilt over her mother’s death, and that was the killing blow--him comforting that witch… Angry tears fill her eyes. She blinked them back, allowing them to evaporate under the heat of her anger. “I’m fine.” She pushed his hands away.
He stepped away from her, crossing his arms over his chest. “Ya don’t have ta lie ta me, ‘Ro.”
Ororo ground her teeth, not liking the way it made her feel to hear him say that name.
“I’m willin’ ta listen if ya want ta talk. What the hell happened the other day?”
“Go ask your girlfriend, I’m sure she’ll fill you in.”
“I’ve already talked ta Jeannie and she claims ya attacked her unprovoked.” He shook his head. “I’m interested ta know what would make ya attack a pregnant woman, Storm.”
Ororo snorted, standing quickly. Far too quickly and the room spun, her legs giving way. Logan was there instantly, his arms wrapping around her, holding her up against him. Her hands grasping his bare shoulders, her eyes trapped by his. The thin cotton of her nightdress provided little barrier between her breasts and the hard wall of his chest. She could feel the heat radiating from him through the material into her skin, and it made her bite her lip.
Logan ran his thumb across her trapped lower lip, his eyes darkening from steel gray to deep midnight. His breathing became raspier, and his arms tightened involuntarily, pulling her closer. “’Ro…” He whispered her name as his mouth descended onto hers.
She tried to pull away but he held fast, capturing her lips, his mouth hot and demanding, moist and intoxicating. Ororo’s nails dug into his skin and Logan groaned, his tongue pushing past teeth, drinking from her. He molded her to him, one hand cupping her firm backside, lifting her slightly into his bulge. It was always like this with her, all other thought vacated his brain, and he was instantly hard, constantly aroused, his blood pure fire pounding in his head, his inner animal screaming to possess her. Claim her. Mate with her.
Ororo’s eyes closed, his hot mouth moving from her lips to her neck, teeth grazing her skin directly over her leaping pulse, followed by the stroke of his tongue. A soft moan traveled from her throat to his ears and Logan growled. His teeth nipped her earlobe, his breath panting in her ear. “God, ‘Ro,” he groaned, slowly lowering her to the bed, following, his body in constant contact with hers. “I’m sorry,” he rasped.
She didn’t want to feel this, she thought, even as her hips arched off the bed into his. He was pushing her legs apart, his hand sliding under the hem of her nightdress, stroking her thighs. His mouth was on hers again, moving over her top lip, tugging on her full lower lip, the very tip of his tongue tracing intricate patterns. One hand moved to tangle in her silken tresses, the other moved to stroke her center through her lacy underwear. Ororo cried out, instinctively trying to close her legs, but he murmured against her lips, low, soothing sounds. He kissed her eyes, her nose, burying his face in the space between her shoulder and neck.
“I only wanna touch ya ‘Ro.” He moved his hand. “…Just feel, darlin’.”
Ororo gripped the pillows behind her head, unable to vocalize anything more than pleasured gasps as he pushed his blunt finger past the elastic guarding her most secret spot and his flesh made contact with the slick heat of hers. He stroked again, parting her nether lips, his tongue swirling in her ear. “Just feel,” he whispered again and Ororo held back a sob. Did he know the things he was making her feel? The terrible ache in her heart from loving him? She wanted to pull away, make him leave, but her traitorous body betrayed her, lifting into his hand, moving against him in silent petition.
“That’s it, darlin’. Yer so sweet, “ he murmured against her lips. “So wet,” he slid one finger inside and Ororo struggled for breath. “Ahh, ya feel so good, babe.” He stroked again.
So enraptured with her he didn’t hear the footfalls on the stairs, the door knob jiggling and not even the door banging open, all he could hear was the pounding in his ears and her gasps of pleasure.
“Get your ‘ands off my sister!”
“Gambit!” Ororo jerked upright, wincing as pain shot through her temples, making her see stars.
Wolverine looked over his shoulder into the glaring red on black eyes of a very angry Cajun. “Dis is where you spent da night?” he demanded.
Wolverine sat up, shielding Storm from Gambit’s view as she tugged her nightdress down. “Where I spend the night is none of yer damn business,” he said.
“If yer trying ta fuck my Stormy den it most certainly is my business.” Gambit responded angrily, he walked into the room, carrying a breakfast try, setting it down on her bureau.
“I don’t see how,” Wolverine snarled, watching the other man with narrowed eyes.
Gambit lifted the fork from the tray, it glowed brightly. “You want I should take out da trash, Stormy?”
“You threatenin’ me, Gumbo?” -SNIKT- Three claws shot out.
“Step away from da bed, homme, and find out.”
“Enough, both of you.” Storm stood, slowly this time. “Gambit, Wolverine was just leaving.”
“No I wasn’t.”
Ororo gave him an angry look. “Yes, you were.”
“Besides, don’t you ‘ave another girl ta be fondling?” Gambit added, deceptively mild. “Aren’t you supposed ta be fallin’ all over Jean right now? I’m sure she misses da attention.”
Wolverine shook his head. “I’m there for the kid, not Jean. There’s a difference.” He was growling now, shoulders hunched, ready to strike.
Ororo tensed, hating herself for the flare of jealousy she felt. Gambit was right, however, Wolverine had no place here. She gave them both icy looks. “Get out, both of you. Take your little song and dance soap opera out of my room. Now.” Her cell phone was ringing.
She picked it up off the nightstand and unwittingly a smile graced her face as she recognized the number. Shinobi. She held up a hand to silence them and answered, “Hello?” A pause. “No, I’m fine. That’s sweet.” Another pause. “Breakfast sounds lovely. All right. Twenty minutes. Bye.”
“But, Stormy, I brought breakfast.” Gambit said with a frown as she hung up.
“No thanks, Gambit.” Ororo moved towards the bathroom. “By the time I am showered and changed I expect both of you to be gone.” She called over her shoulder. “And no fighting.”
“Well, where’s da fun in dat?” Gambit muttered. Once the bathroom door was shut he looked at Wolverine. “Bioque.” Gambit spat.
“What was that?” Wolverine’s lip curled.
“I called you an idiot.” Gambit said. “Trying to knock up two women?”
Wolverine’s head snapped up. “Leave it alone.”
“You should take your own advice.”
In the shower it wasn’t thoughts of Wolverine that plagued her, Ororo was surprised to realize, but thoughts of her impending breakfast with Shinobi Shaw. He was confusing her, she thought sliding the shower door shut. From everything the Professor had on him, Storm had learned that Shinobi Shaw was a ruthless man, with a strong and varied sexual appetite, but he always stopped when she wanted to. Her problem, she realized, was that the more they were together, the less she wanted to stop. She turned the knobs forcefully, stepping under the sharp spray, head hanging down. He was just a mark, she told herself. Just a mark.

Diner

“The Shaw Charity Ball is coming up this weekend,” Shinobi said, forking a small mound of scrambled eggs into his mouth. He was once again dressed casual, in tan khaki’s and a dark green shirt, his hair tied back at the nape of his neck. They were eating at a small but cozy diner, a few miles away from the Institute, seated in a booth beside a large window.
Storm nodded, she knew of the event. Xavier was counting on Shinobi asking her to attend, as the Ball was at his mansion and would be the perfect night to perform her heist. “I had heard about it. I thought that the ball was your father’s deal,” she poured syrup over her pancakes.
Shinobi’s eyes briefly narrowed. “My father finds himself otherwise occupied.”
“I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject,” she said softly.
He reached across the table, stroking her cheek. “It doesn’t matter.”
Storm chewed her food, waiting.
“Would you like to attend?”
“I’d love to.” She was about to take another bite of her pancakes when she heard the familiar rumble of a motorcycle outside. She turned her head warily, watching as Wolverine pulled into the parking lot, his dark gaze fixed on her as he dismounted. He brushed one hand along the arm of his leather jacket, making his way to the entrance.
“Isn’t that your bike?” Shinobi asked.
“Uh, no, it’s his. I was just…borrowing it.” She gave the bike a wistful look.
“Hm.” Shinobi leaned back, his eyes on the door as Wolverine strode in. “I think he’s looking for you.” He commented.
“He knows where I am,” Ororo murmured, taking another bite, ignoring the frission of awareness that traveled her body.
“Storm.” Wolverine was beside their booth.
She looked up at him. He was too attractive for his own good, she thought, loving the way his hair stood all disheveled from the bike ride, and the stubble that grazed his stubborn jaw. Stubble that had tickled her throat earlier. She pushed that thought aside angrily. “Wolverine.”
“We need to talk.” His dark gaze was unreadable.
“I’m eating,” she stated flatly.
“Could this wait?” Shinobi asked, an amused smile hovering on his lips.
Wolverine ignored him. “Now, Storm.” He reached down, grabbing her arm, hauling her to her feet.
“That’s not a very nice way to treat a lady,” Shinobi stood.
“But out, Bub.” Wolverine snarled at him. “This don’t concern you.”
“When you are touching Storm, yes it does.” Shinobi’s normally smooth as silk voice hardened and Storm was surprised by the vehemence in his tone.
Wolverine cocked his head and Ororo knew he was contemplating planting his fist in Shinobi’s face. “It’s fine, Shinobi. I’ll be right back.” She tugged her arm from Wolverine’s grasp, marching out the front door. Once outside she turned on him. “What are you doing here? I’m busy.”
“How far ya planning on takin’ this, ‘Ro? How far ya gonna go with Shaw?” Wolverine demanded.
“What do you care? Damn it, Wolverine, I’m not some helpless little girl that needs you to protect her. I’m your leader, remember, not the other way around.”
“Ya haven’t answered my question.” He crossed his arms.
Storm glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of Shinobi watching them through the window. She smiled at him, then turned back to Wolverine with a glare. “Mind your own business.”
“You are my business.”
“No. Jean is your business. I am your team mate.”
Wolverine rumbled. “Don’t fuckin’ kid yerself, Storm.”
She ran her hand through her hair in frustration. “I am not the one kidding myself. Go home, Wolverine. Go back to Jean.”
He stepped forward. “I don’t want Jean.” His eyes were intense. “I want you.”
“Well, it looks like you’re stuck with her.” Storm turned away from him before she flung herself into his arms.
“Storm, don’t push me away.”
Her steps halted and she gave him a cold stare, pulling on her reserve of careful control. She couldn’t let him know how badly she wanted him, how much she loved him. She was many things, but home wrecker was not one of them. “The moment you placed your claws to my neck you made a choice, Wolverine. I am willing to be your leader, your team mate and even your friend, but never anything more. You chose, remember that.”
Wolverine growled irritably. “I was trying to protect my child, ‘Ro. You were attacking a woman pregnant with my child.”
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “I am sorry for that,” she said at last. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my date is waiting.”
“This ain’t over,” he called after her.
“Yes, it is.” She whispered, opening the diner door.
Shinobi stood as she approached. “Everything all right?”
Storm glanced out the window. Wolverine was mounting his cycle, staring at her. “It could be better.” She looked at Shinobi. “Kiss me.”
Shinobi needed no further urging, stepping forward, cradling her face in his smooth palms and covering her mouth with his. Ororo opened her mouth, allowing him access, relaxing into his embrace. A part of her hated herself for this tactic, but another part of her enjoyed the way Shinobi made her feel wanted and treasured. She pulled back, smiling into his warm eyes.
“You think he got the message?” Shinobi asked quietly.
Storm was startled, though she shouldn’t have been. He was a very perceptive man. “I hope so,” she said sincerely.
“Were you and he…?”
“No.” Storm shook her head.
“But you wanted to be?”
Storm slid back into the booth. “He’s a team mate. Nothing more. Is that jealousy, Shinobi?“ She asked at his frown. “It‘s not like you‘ve had a sheltered life of limited experiences. I don‘t imagine you even spent last night alone,” she teased.
Shinobi followed suit. “Fair enough. But I would give up all others for you. All you have to do is say the word.”
Storm tilted her head. He seemed awfully serious about that. “Maybe I will,” she smiled.
He covered her hand with his. “I hope you do.”

Xavier Institute
Westchester, New York

“It’s like a damn greenhouse in here,” Alison commented pushing open Ororo’s bedroom door, carrying yet another large potted plant. She set the leafy package onto the floor, giving a Storm a gentle smile, which was a comical contrast to her darkly painted eyes and spiked hair. “I’d say the man’s smitten. Job well done.”
Ororo glanced up from her seat on the end of her large bed, looking around her room at the lush and assorted flowers and plants Shinobi had been sending her for the past three days. All of them potted, uncut and beautiful. Without a word Ororo looked back at the book in her hands.
“Yep, a man in love,” Alison continued doggedly. She pulled open the small envelope attached to the dark blue pot and read, “Ororo- I anxiously await our next meeting. Please, know that you are on my mind, and I am at your beck and call- Shinobi Shaw.”
Still no response from Ororo and Alison quelled the desire to stomp her booted foot. “Look, lady, the Storm I know wouldn’t be up in her room, sulking like some beaten dog because of some dumb bitch and a stupid man who can’t see what’s right under his nose.”
This got Ororo’s attention. “I killed their baby, Alison.” Her voice was whisper soft.
Ororo recalled the unbelievably painful moment when Jean had come into the rec room a few nights ago night screaming that she had almost lost her baby because of the strain Storm had put on her. Immediately Ororo had apologized, but that hadn’t been enough and Jean had telekinetically thrown several pool balls at her. Ororo had used her winds to deflect the balls and Jean screamed some more, becoming increasingly upset. Ororo had told her to go away and Jean had, and she immediately sought out Wolverine.
After a much heated conversation Jean had crumbled to the ground, claiming abdominal pains. Wolverine had immediately scooped her up and carried her to the med-lab, where a newly returned Hank had been. Jean had shooed Wolverine away, claiming that she could sense his anger and it was upsetting her.
After an hour Storm had gone down to the lab to check on him, and see how Jean was. Wolverine had been sullen and silent, barely glancing at her and she knew she was making things worse, so she had turned to leave, but Jean had emerged from the med-lab eyes red-rimmed, glaring at Ororo. “Happy now?” she’d cried. “Our baby is dead.”
Storm was at a loss. Wolverine had said nothing, simply embraced a sobbing Jean. Ororo had left, her heart aching for his loss. She had tried to speak with him shortly after and winced at the recollection of their painful confrontation and a fresh wave of self-loathing washed over her. She had found him in the garage, packing one of the Institute’s black SUV’s. “You’re leaving?” She’d asked.
“Yep.” Slam! He moved around to the driver’s side. “I need ta get away from everything.”
“Logan… I am so--”
“Don’t.” He had growled. “I don’t want ta hear it, Storm. Whatever yer gonna say, I don’t wanna hear it.”
“No,” She had agreed, tears spilling from her eyes, creating silver ripples down her cheeks.
He had whirled on her, teeth bared, face contorted in anger. “Ya want ta know the sickest part of all this, Storm? The sickest shit of all? I fuckin’ dreamt of you last night. Pregnant with my kid.” He gripped the door handle, his knuckles white. “I can’t be near ya now, Storm. I don’t trust myself not ta hurt you. I’m takin’ one of Xavier’s solo assignments.”
“Logan-”
“Wolverine.” he snarled. “You will call me, Wolverine.”
“I’m so sorry.” She whispered brokenly.
“Go cry prettily for Shaw, Storm. I ain’t interested.”
He opened and slammed the driver’s door, starting the SUV and backing away from her.
“I understand,” she’d whispered, and she did, knowing he was lashing out in his pain. She had wanted to hold him, comfort him, tell him she loved him…but instead, she walked away, forcing herself not to look back, silently crying all the way into the mansion. She had fallen to her knees in her room, grieving for the little soul she had unwittingly taken.
Wolverine had yet to return. She knew eventually they would have to acknowledge each other, but she wasn’t sure she could face him yet, knowing what she had done.
Ali sat down heavily on the bed beside Storm. “Storm, it was an accident. You didn’t mean to-”
“Didn’t I?” Ororo stood, pacing the floor, her bare feet silent on the hardwood. “I attacked a pregnant woman, Ali. No matter what the provocation I attacked her, and the cost of my mistake…is far too high.”
“For crying out loud, Storm, she was what? A month along?“
“That doesn’t matter, Alison. A life is a life.“
“Ok, fine, but it doesn’t mean you have to give up living. Look at you, Storm.” Alison gave her unkempt appearance a once over. “You’re a wreck. I know it hurts and as much as you may want to, you can’t change it. You just try and move on.”
Storm shook her head. “I don’t know that I can.”
“I wish ya would, padnat,” Gambit said from the door. “Even if it’s wit’ a man like Shinobi Shaw.”
Ororo turned, surprised, never expecting Gambit to promote any type of relationship with Shinobi. “My assignment is nearly over, Gambit. Tonight I get the documents, the artifacts and a lead on what Sebastian Shaw is up to. Mission accomplished.”
“You do your job well, Stormy, as always. But after dis I t’ink dat maybe you should try and be jus’ a woman wit‘ a man. If not Shaw, den someone else.”
“I don’t have it in me, Gambit.”
“Yes, you do.” He approached her slowly, his eyes faintly glowing with the intensity of what he was saying. “Der’s no one stronger den you, padnat.” He gripped her shoulders. “I want ta see you smile, chere. And da only time ya done dat lately is when you’re wit’ Shaw.”
Ororo sighed. She had enjoyed Shinobi’s companionship very much over the past weeks, and she knew she would be confusing him by simply stepping out of his life without explanation, but she didn’t know what else to do. As it was she felt guilty for betraying him, even though she knew he was into some shady things and was capable of things she’d rather not know about. That part of him was known, but never seen. When they were together, however, he was always good to her, and always made her feel wanted. It was a feeling she had come to enjoy, possibly too much. “I am acting, Gambit.”
Alison scoffed. “Not all of it’s an act, Storm. I saw you look at him, you like him.”
Ororo nodded. “Yes, I like Shinobi.” But I love Wolverine, she thought but left it unsaid. Before any of them could continue Kitty’s head phased up through the floor, held a loft by Colossus below.
“Hey, Storm, Hank wants to see you.”
“All right.” Storm said, thankful for the excuse not to continue their current conversation. She reached out her hand, grabbing Kitty’s outstretched arm, allowing herself to be phased through the floor. Once in the kitchen she was greeted by Hank, who looked…uncomfortable. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, I require a word in private, if you do not mind.” He motioned towards the back door and Ororo followed.
“What can I do for you?” Storm asked, shielding her eyes from the sun.
“It is perhaps what I can do for you.” He handed her a folder.
“What’s this?” She asked.
“Confidential.” He said, looking over his shoulder.
Ororo opened it. It was list of codes for medical files. “I can’t see this, Hank.” She snapped it shut.
Giving her a grave look Beast placed his furry paws on top of her hands. “Please, Storm. I wanted to say something sooner, but I have been unable to bring myself to fully accept my participation in these events.”
Storm looked at him. “What are you trying to say?”
Hank shook his head. “As a doctor I am not saying anything. As a friend of one of the best thieves in the world I am saying I will be taking lunch away from the med-lab from noon to one.”
Ororo looked at him confused.
“I only hope when this is all done you can forgive me.”
“Hank?” But he was already walking away. Ororo opened the folder again, reading the highlighted name and code: Grey, Jean 0011 0100 100100 6.


Med-Lab
12:15 pm

“What are we doing down here?” Kitty asked, moving through one of the white tiled walls.
“I’m not entirely certain.” Storm answered. “I need you to hack me into the medical database.”
Kitty’s mouth dropped. “No way.”
“Way.” Alison said, moving into the room as well. She pulled up one of the rolling stools, settling on it and spinning across the floor.
Kitty took the seat, studying the screen in front of her. “What am I looking for?” she asked, her slender fingers flying across the keypad.
Storm leaned over her shoulder, peering intently at the flickering blue screen. “Student records.”
After only a few minutes Kitty exclaimed, “We’re in.”
“Wow, we really need to work on the security around this place,” Storm said.
“Why? Any more late night visitors?” Ali asked with a wink, having heard about Shinobi’s surprise picnic.
“Who’s getting late night visitors?” Kitty asked.
“No one.” Storm gave Ali a narrow look, but there was a subtle lift to her mouth. “Okay, here’s a code I need you to put in.” Ororo handed Kitty the file.
“Unh-uh,” Kitty stood up. “I got you this far, the rest is up to you.”
“Scardey-cat,” Ali murmured.
“No, she’s right.” Storm took the seat Kitty had vacated, pushing her hair out of her way with one black gloved hand. Old habits, she thought, having donned her black pants and tight black tank with a pair of black leather gloves and heavy boots. It was a look she had imitated from Gambit growing up, and one that stuck when she was feeling dangerous.
She entered the code Hank had given her earlier and an image of Jean Grey appeared, with a brief bio and list of allergies. Storm scrolled down, skimming as she went. When she got to Jean’s most recent visit’s the air seemed to thicken, her blood alternating between icy and boiling. Ororo re-read the entry in front of her: Controlled Pregnancy test: results (Negative). Then another entry three days later: Controlled Pregnancy test: results (Positive).
“Holy shit.” Alison whispered, reading over Storm’s shoulder. Then very dryly, “Who knew she was allergic to peanuts?”
Storm didn’t even blink, just kept reading. “She’s been injecting herself with low levels of progesterone.” She read quietly.
“Why?” Kitty asked.
“Progesterone is a pregnancy hormone,” Storm replied absently.
“Yeah, but why inject it into herself? I mean it’s not like it’ll make her pregnant.“ Alison said, leaning back and crossing her arms.
“No,” Ororo murmured. “It could confuse a test, though.”
“Yeah, it could.” Alison swore. “She‘s still taking the injections,“ Ali noted. “Why?”
Storm thought for a moment then gasped, her blue eyes wide. “Not only to confuse a test, but to confuse a man.”
“Excuse me?” Kitty asked, chewing her thumb nail nervously.
“Wolverine,” Ali nodded, following Storm’s train of thought. “He’d have smelled it on her.”
“Whoa, that’s just…Wow.” Kitty shook her head disbelieving.
“That’s fucked up.” Alison said angrily. “So, Jean was just playing some sort of sick game,” Alison shook her head, truly astounded by the gall it would take someone to do that. “What now?”
Storm could feel each and every heavy beat of her heart. She had grieved that baby, she had mourned their loss and she had watched as Wolverine became even more withdrawn. Her blue eyes faded, replaced by brightly glowing white fire. “Now, I let her know that playtime’s over.”
Storm strode away from her teammates, the air sizzling around her body.
Ali glanced at Kitty, a wicked grin on her face. “Ooohhhooo, this is gonna be good.” She then left the med-lab, hot on Storm’s tail.

Courtyard

Jean was leaning against the base of the fountain in the center of the circled drive, surrounded by several friends and sniffers. The term Ali used to describe the students who wished popularity by association and trailed Jean like a follower. She currently had her head leaned on Cyclops’s chest, his arm around her shoulders protectively. Ororo’s eyes narrowed. How dare that witch take comfort from another man when it was Wolverine’s heart her little game trampled. Storm felt her entire body tremble with rage.
The only warning Jean received before Ororo’s fist slammed into her face, was a loud rumble of thunder, then the cracking of her nose, spraying blood. Several of the students screamed, backing away from the obviously enraged Storm, who stood ramrod straight, eyes white, gloved hands clenched, hair whipping around her head, crackling with electricity. The temperature dropped quickly, Ororo’s breath fanning in front of her face.
“Storm!” Cyclops reacted immediately, reaching for the button on his visor, but the heel of Storm’s boot caught his temple, knocking him to the ground. She raised her foot again, bringing it down in his solar plexus, knocking the air from his body.
She placed her foot on his chest. “Stay down, pretty boy. This is between me and Pom-Pom.” With that she reached down and ripped his visor off his head, flinging it aside.
Jean staggered to her feet, holding one hand to her nose, a look of fear on her face. Storm could feel her trying to penetrate her mind again and she smiled slowly at the redhead. “Not so easy when I have my defenses up, is it?” She moved quickly, rushing Jean and spinning, her elbow driving deep into the other woman’s chest, sending her reeling once again. Jean cried out.
“Do you know what this is?” Storm asked quietly, her gaze steady. “This is karma, Jean.” Her foot lashed out, catching Jean at the knees, dropping her.
“Hey! Hands off!” Bobby Drake was freezing over, racing towards them. Storm inclined her head and a swirl of air lifted the other man from the ground, flinging him into the pool.
She turned back to Jean. “Get up.”
Jean shook her head, “Please, haven’t you done enough to me?” she cried out loudly, for all to hear.
Storm grinned. “I haven’t even started, Marvel Girl.” She crouched low, watching Jean scramble. “As for what I want? Your head on a platter sounds nice.” She dove forward, rolling so that her feet landed on Jean’s outstretched legs, connecting with her kneecaps. Ororo sprung to her feet. “I thought being an X-Man meant giving as good as you got? You’re disappointing me, Jean.” She lifted the other woman by her hair.
“Storm, halt!” Peter Rasputin commanded in his thick Russian accent. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He was moving towards them, skin rippling solid steel.
Storm’s eyes flashed. “What makes you think you can?” With a wave of her arm a wall of raging winds enclosed around her and Jean, leaving the others outside the swirling barrier, staring dumbfounded.
“Now, where were we? Oh, yes, you were about to scream.” Storm threw the other woman across the ground with a viscous twist on her red hair.
“Someone!” Jean screamed clambering to her feet. “Help me!”
“I know what you did, you lying bitch.” Ororo stalked the other woman slowly, her head lowered, her teeth bared, in a stance that was remarkably similar to Wolverine’s.
Jean gave a mental push, a telekinetic pulse, pushing against Storm. Storm slid back, but not far, using a powerful blast of wind to counter the pulse, and propel her into Jean. She caught her on the wrist, twisting her arm behind her back, slamming her into the dirt, Ororo’s knee planted in her back. She lifted Jean slightly, then slammed her down again. “How’s that feel, Jean?” Storm leaned close, her breath stirring the hair at Jean’s temples. Jean struggled futilely, screaming for help. “Come on, Pom-Pom, is that all you got?” She slammed her head into the ground.
Several students ran towards the porch, where their leader and mentor sat. He stared across the yard, his eyes resting on Jean and Storm. Without a word he rolled around, back into the mansion.
“He can’t be serious?” Colossus demanded. “The Professor’s just going to let them fight?”
“Not much of a fight, really,” Alison muttered with a smile. “Not when it’s a fair one anyway.”
Storm’s eyes glowed brightly and she yanked Jean‘s head back. “You hurt people maliciously, and without regard. That kind of behavior makes me sick. Tell them what you did.” She shoved the Jean towards the small crowd of people brave enough to stay in the courtyard.
Jean glanced at Cyclops.
“What’s going on, Jean?” Cyclops asked warily, his eyes closed tight.
“She lied.” Storm said.
“Jean?” Scott asked guardedly.
“I’m so sorry, Scott,” Jean said. “I don’t know why I did it. I just did. I’m so sorry.” She turned to Storm. “You’re a two-bit con artist and murderer. I was trying to protect him.”
“No, Jean. You wanted him for yourself.” Storm’s eyes flashed. “Stop lying.” Thunder boomed. The clouds split, rain pouring from the sky, drenching everyone and everything.
“You don’t belong here!” Jean screamed.
Storm floated slightly above the ground. “Why do you hate me?”
“Because he loves you! He never loved me!” Jean cried angrily, tears pouring from her green eyes.
“But I loved you,” Scott said, voice cracking.
Jean sobbed openly now. “I know, Scott. I know. I love you too, it’s just…oh, God, I just have always been the favorite…and then….” She waved one arm at Storm.
“All this because you weren’t the favorite?” Alison asked. “Holy narcissist.”
“Shut up,” Jean spat. Ororo dropped and slapped her.
“You don’t get to talk to my friends like that, Jean.” Storm looked at Cyclops. “I am sorry for you, Cyclops. I know you still love her.”
He nodded. “I do.”
Storm gave Jean a hard look. “Why not try being worthy of that kind of unconditional love as opposed to chasing a man who doesn’t want to be caught.”
Jean lowered her eyes. “I’m so sorry…Scott…Storm.” Her shoulders shook with her cries.
Storm closed her eyes. She moved towards the other woman, pulling her into her arms, holding her as she cried.
Alison’s mouth hung open. Gambit approached from behind, using his index finger to close it. “Dat’s why I love ‘er.” He said proudly.
“Unfuckingbelievable.”
Gambit smiled. “Yes, she is.”
“Okay, who gets to tell Wolverine?” Alison asked with a trace of genuine trepidation.
“Jean will tell him,” Cyclops stated flatly.
Alison smiled. “Can I watch?”

Shinobi Shaw’s Mansion
Manhattan, New York


“You look…unbelievable.” Shinobi greeted appreciatively as Ororo exited the long black stretch limo. She smiled at him in thanks. She had taken her time getting ready, Xavier had given her his credit card to go buy a dress and she had been very selective in the one she chose. She stood before Shinobi wearing a simple long black strapless dress, with a rather daring slit up the right thigh, her white hair layered in thick curls atop her head, Ali had done her makeup for her, giving her a smoky, sultry look, calling it the “bedroom” look. The only adornment she wore was a slender black watch.
“You are remarkably handsome yourself, “ Ororo commented. Shinobi was wearing a silk suit of deep black with a scarlet shirt, open necked, no tie and his dark hair hung loose about his handsome face. He handed her a blue velvet rectangle.
Storm raised one winged eyebrow. “Open it,” he encouraged.
Opening the gift box Ororo gasped. Inside lay a thin gold necklace with a large diamond solitaire drop. She raised her eyes to his. “I can’t accept this.”
“Of course you can.” Shinobi lifted the chain from its resting place. “May I?” He held it up for her.
Storm turned a bit reluctant to accept such an expensive gift, allowing him to drape the necklace around her slender throat, clasping it at her nape. She felt the brief caress of his fingers, followed by the moist heat of his lips. She gave him a brief glance over her smooth shoulder, her eyes concealed by her thick lashes.
“I couldn’t help myself,” he said, completely unapologetic.
Ororo smiled. “I can tell this is going to be an interesting evening.”
“One can hope.” He took her hand, placing it on the crook of his arm, walking with her up the red carpeted front staircase.
“Aren’t you going to greet your other guests?” she asked, giving the other cars a glance over her shoulder. She lifted the her skirt so as not to tread on the material as they moved.
He shook his head, affording her an indulgent smile. “I greeted the only guest that matters.”
Ororo blushed, and said, “You can’t ignore these people, they’re here to donate money for your charity.”
Shinobi laughed. “They are pompass over indulged upper crusts that come to events like this to show what honorable and charitable people they are, when in fact, tomorrow they will be bugging their CPA’s, making sure their donation is written off. They care not for who greets them, Storm. They only care that they are recognized in the society page of the Times as social humanitarians”
Storm was about to agree with his general assessment of his guests, but the words never came, instead she was fascinated by the glorious ball room he had lead her into. It was made entirely of white marble with gold trim, exotic dragons and beautiful chandeliers hung from the high ceiling. A beautiful mural was painted overhead and a large glass dome gave a stunning view of the night sky. Ororo gazed in open mouthed wonder.
“It’s a bit much,” He said, following her gaze as she took in the room. “But why not?”
“I dreamed of such luxury while eating out of trash cans,” Ororo murmured softly before she realized what she was saying.
Instead of being appalled, Shinobi gave her a speculative look. “This from a woman who said there wasn’t much to tell about her life.”
Ororo walked beside him. “You don’t seem to care that I don’t have a penny to my name,” she commented after awhile.
“Why would I?” He asked. “I have more money than I can ever spend.”
“How nice for you,” she said, a bit tart.
Shinobi paused, looking down at her. “You do not seem the type to covet material things,” he stated.
Storm didn’t respond, busy counting in her head how many steps it had taken from he door to where they stood. Then she turned to him. “No, material possessions mean very little to me. However, when one has the ability or the means to help others, it irks me that they do not.”
“That is what tonight is all about, Storm. Shaw Enterprises donates heavily to charities such as the one we are here for tonight.”
Not wanting to argue over something as foolish as how the rich spent their money, Storm asked, “What is tonight’s charity?”
Shinobi gave her a quizzical look. “Tonight we are raising money for an institution where mutants can go to be free of social persecution, and have a safe haven.”
“That sounds like Xavier’s.” Ororo said.
Shinobi winked. “It is. I thought Xavier told you.”
Storm shook her head frowning. “No, he hadn’t mentioned it.” If Shaw was donating money to the institute, and he and Charles were working together, why the cloak and dagger to get Shinobi to spill on his father. From everything she had seen, he disliked the man intensely, he would probably give Xavier whatever he was after if it meant Sebastian Shaw would suffer.
As a waiter passed with a tray of champagne flutes Shinobi deftly removed two glasses, handing her one. “Thanks.” She sipped the bubbly liquid. They made their way around the room, Shinobi making polite but brief conversation with several people, always taking a moment to introduce her, making her feel inordinately important as he did.
“You seem a million miles away,” Shinobi murmured awhile later as the stood near the upper staircase.
“I’m sorry.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “I’ve had a long day.”
He inclined his head towards hers. “Let’s see if we can take your mind off of it, shall we?” He raised one hand and a curtain lifted, revealing a small orchestra on a center stage. They began playing a waltz immediately. He held one hand out to her, giving her a slight bow. “Dance?”
Ororo smiled. “I would be delighted.” She gasped slightly when he pulled her into his arms, sensation rippling through her body. He held her close, his steps smooth and flowing, moving them about the room flawlessly, one hand holding hers aloft, the other pressing the small of her back.
“You are breathtaking.” He said as they moved. “An exotic orchid among daisies,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.
Storm’s pulse raced, her breathing shallow. She was a little startled by this, because it was a reaction normally only induced by Wolverine. She looked up into Shinobi’s brown eyes, finding them dark and intense. “We’ve stopped moving,” she whispered.
“Really? Because for me the room is still spinning.” He lowered his head to hers. Ororo sighed softly as he took her mouth in a slow kiss. He never rushed her, always moved slowly, seducing her senses with infinite patience. Her fingers flexed on his arm, and a low sound of pleasure emanated from him.
“Well, well, Son. It looks like you’ve found yourself a decent trophy this evening.”
Shinobi and Storm broke apart and Ororo felt him tense. He leveled a look at the dark haired man beside them. “I was not expecting you, Father.”
Sebastian Shaw was not an unattractive man, Storm noticed, large and well built, with a face that had probably at one time been very handsome, but was now etched with deep lines. He carried none of Shinobi’s sensual energy, however, none of the subtle mystery. In fact, Ororo couldn’t really see a family resemblance at all.
“Plans changed.” Sebastian gave Ororo an assessing look and she straightened meeting his gaze directly. “Who’s the new toy?”
Shinobi frowned, but Ororo spoke before he could. “My name is Storm.”
“Storm is a weather phenomenon, not a name,” Sebastian said with a cold stare.
Ororo allowed her eyes to fade. “It is a most fitting name.” she said. Thunder rumbled outside.
Sebastian Shaw looked surprised, more by her refusal to look away from his direct stare than by the rumble of thunder. “Hmm.” He returned his gaze to his son. “Where is Tessa?”
“Here I am.” A beautiful dark haired woman was walking towards them. She was wearing a form fitting dress of deep red, matching the color of Shinobi’s shirt, her dark hair pulled tight against her head. She stepped beside the older Shaw. “You’re back early.”
“Unexpected change of plans.” Sebastian glared at the woman disapprovingly, then turned that same look on his son. “I will have a word with you, son.”
Shinobi grit his teeth. “I am entertaining.”
“I’m sure your ‘entertainment’ can find ways to amuse herself while you’re gone.”
Storm gave Shinobi a smile. “I believe I will get some air.” She glanced back at Sebastian Shaw. “The air in here is suddenly unbelievably stuffy and old.”
Shinobi nodded, but did not return her smile. He was still glowering at his father.
Storm strolled away from the trio, making her way out of the ballroom and out the front doors. A doorman gave her a bow as she passed. She moved along the stairs slowly, making her way towards the shadowed side of the mansion. She watched as two security guards walked by, flashlights in hand. She lifted her wrist. “Gambit?” she said into the watch.
“’Bout time.” he muttered.
Storm smiled. “I was enjoying myself.”
“Uh-huh. You get t’ drink and dance and I get t’ sit in dis tiny little jet.”
“You’re the one who insisted on shadowing me,” she reminded.
“Are you going now?”
“Yes. Be ready.” Storm made her way to her limo, where Winston was waiting.
“Good evening, Miss Munroe.”
“Hi, Jeeves.” She slid into the back of the car. Within minutes she had slid out of her dress and into the dark outfit she had worn in her danger room exercises. She gave Gambit the go ahead and counted to ten. A small explosion towards the front gate brought security guards running, and Ororo slipped from the car unnoticed.
As she moved in the shadows, floating to the third story of the huge mansion she heard one guard saying, “Damn anti-mutant activists.”
Ororo took out her lock pick kit, opening the window she knew belonged to Shinobi’s bedroom. She drifted inside, cautious, knowing that though the lower portion of the house was currently unarmed the top two storied were still set. She paused, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. A large wrought iron king-sized bed was in the center of the room, covered in black and red silk bedding. Over the bed on the ceiling was a silver mirror and Ororo found herself mildly amused and confused. For someone with a voracious sexual appetite, he was very good at keeping himself in check while he was with her. Aside from that first meeting he had never so much as said an inappropriate comment.
She moved quietly through the room, opening the drawer on his black nightstand. It wasn’t part of her mission, but she found herself curious as to what he kept in there. She pulled out a novel, turning it in her hand. “The Da Vinci Code.” Did everyone own that damn book, she wondered thinking of the numerous copies floating around the Institute. Under that was a photograph and she was startled. It was her, from the night at the club. It must have been taken by a security camera, but it was surprisingly clear. She was on the dance floor, arms over her head, eyes closed. She was admittedly a little flattered by the fact that he had a photo of her. She set it aside, pulling out another book. This one was more of a journal, she realized, opening it. She flipped through the pages, torn between shock and intrigue. It was a list of women and men that Shinobi had been intimate with. Under each name was a small passage describing the experience and more often than not Shinobi was horribly dissatisfied and frustrated. She then reached her name, and she read the passage carefully.
“She’s like none other that I have known. I can’t stop thinking about her and the brief tastes of her that I’ve had are intoxicating. I burn for her. I find myself waking in the night, tormented by the most vivid dreams I’ve ever had. At times the throbbing is so painful all I have to is roll over and I come all over my mattress like some teenage schoolboy. She commands the elements, Xavier told me, but more than that, I fear if given the chance that she may be able to command me. I war with myself, I have the desire to seduce her, woo her and then almost as intensely I desire to break her, fearing the hold she carries on me already.”
Storm reread the passage, a mixture of emotions running through her, she‘d be lying if she didn‘t acknowledge part of her was pleased by his interest, but there was also a part of her that locked onto the words ‘break her‘ and wouldn‘t let go. She then turned the page, but it was blank; no names followed hers. Why that surprised and thrilled her she didn’t know, and wasn’t about to try and figure out her mixed responses to Shinobi right now. She returned the books and picture into the stand, silently making her way to the bedroom door.
She opened it a crack, peering into the dark hallway. There were two cameras at each end of the hall. Ororo concentrated, filling the hall with a field of electrostatic energy, effectively shorting the cameras. By the time it was noticed she would be long gone. She raced down the hall towards the upstairs gallery, where she knew the safe sat behind a Van Gogh.
Outside the door was a security panel, that required fingerprint identification. She smiled. Technology sometimes made things so much easier. She hovered her hand over the green screen and a layer of frost appeared. After a moment she heard the distinct hiss of circuits shorting and she turned the knob slowly. Inside the room was empty, but Ororo wasn’t concerned. She made her way to a tall bookcase, pulling on the false copy of Moby Dick, stepping back as the bookcase shifted, opening a small passage to a narrow hall. She moved stealthily along, coming to another large room, guarded by a more advanced security system. Red lasers rotated about the room. A delighted smile appeared on her face beneath her mask. She was having fun. She always did.
She moved quickly, flipping and sliding through the beams with practiced ease. Once she reached the far wall she tilted the Van Gogh up, revealing blank space. She placed her palms to the wall, sending small charges of electricity into the wood. Nothing buried behind. Storm bit her lip. What now? She glanced back towards the door. She didn‘t have much time. She was struck by a thought, pressing herself fully against the wall, knowing there was a chance the safe was simply in a different spot. As she moved she sent small charges seeking. After a few tries she felt her palms tingle. There you are, she thought with another tiny smile. She pulled a small silver cylinder from her pocket, pointing it at the wall where she felt the tingle, disrupting the image inducer and revealing the safe. It only took her a minute to open the safe, pulling out two objects that resembled the pictures Xavier had shown her, as well as several sealed envelopes, containing files that Xavier wanted retrieved. She closed the safe quickly and placed a small charge on the wall.
Storm made her way hastily back the way she came, out Shinobi’s window and down to the limo again. She gave Gambit the all clear and he had breathed a sigh of relief saying, “Never doubted you, padnat.”
Storm changed quickly, making her way into the ballroom. Shinobi was still with his father, but Ororo made her presence known to several of the people he had previously introduced her to. She was speaking with the owner of a profitable diamond mine when a small explosion sounded on the third floor, causing several people to gasp and Ororo to hide a smile behind her hand.
The door to the gallery burst open and three armed guards rushed the room, weapons drawn. “Don’t move!”
The room was empty.


Alberta, Canada

His beer was getting warm. Wolverine glanced at the bottle in his hands dispassionately. He was seated on a stool at a local bar, had been for several hours, having left his hotel room after destroying it in a murderous rampage. He swore, taking a drink of his piss warm ale and then swore again. “Fuck.”
He slammed his fisted hand into the bar, drawing a frown from the bartender, but the larger man made no move towards Wolverine, his own instincts for self preservation preventing him from doing so.
Wolverine tossed a twenty on the bar, pulling on his leather jacket. Outside he pulled a cigar from the front pocket. Even the familiar and welcome taste of his stogie did nothing to settle him. He was furious. That lying, fucking bitch! That fucking useless whore! His knuckles itched.
When his cell had wrung last night and he had heard Jean’s voice he had thought she was calling for comfort, but two minutes later he wanted to kill her. Not metaphorically, literally. Smart girl telling him while he was miles away.
His anger had been uncontrollable. As soon as the words “I lied,” left her mouth he had thrown the phone against the wall, roaring in rage, slashing his pillows, throwing the television against the wall. He had raged all night, and into the morning. Now, he walked the narrow road, trying to burn away his lingering anger. Not only directed at Jean, but at himself for not realizing…Fuck!!
As he traveled his thoughts turned to Storm. He was comfortable wanting to have sex with Storm. Hell, any man with a functioning cock would want Ororo, but what made him so uncomfortable with her was that he wanted more then to make her moan and writhe with pleasure, though that would be nice, what he really wanted was to make her happy. It was more than simply wanting her to fulfill some carnal desire, he knew. He loved her. Wolverine felt his jaw clench at the admission. He had never been in love, at least not that he could remember. It had always been find ‘em, fuck ‘em and leave ‘em. No strings, no commitments. He liked it like that, it kept his life simple, but ‘Ro…well, she was…everything.
His heart ached, a pain so intense for a moment it blocked out his anger. He had been so heartless towards her, he remembered. Pushing her away, probably straight into Shaw’s waiting arms, he thought with a savage growl. His actions confused even himself. His attraction to Storm was undeniable and he thoroughly enjoyed her company, but he had felt guilty, wanting her even though Jean had lost the baby. Lying Bitch!!
He flung the barely burnt cigar into the road in frustration. He remembered Storm’s blue eyes, so sad when he had last seen her. She had tried to soothe him and he had shoved her away, not because he was truly angry with her, but because she terrified him. He had wanted to let her take away his anger, to heal his hurt, but what would that leave him with? Anger was his only constant, his reliable defense, if he allowed her to strip that from him, then what? He’d be open and raw and she would see how much he loved her…needed her. So instead of letting her in, he closed her out, leaving, running away from her. He cursed himself. And he cursed Jean.
He had completed the recon mission last night, but wasn’t heading back today. He needed some more time, knowing that if he headed back now he would do Jean bodily harm. Wolverine continued to walk along the long road, wondering how Storm had handled the truth about Jean, how he was going to make things right with her, and what she was doing now…


Club HellFire

The music pounded and bodies thrummed together. Ororo watched from the balcony as Ali and Gambit danced below. They moved together nicely, but every once in awhile Alison would throw an aggressive slam at Gambit, catching him off guard. Ororo chuckled at his expression.
“Having a good time?”
Storm turned. “I am.” It had been nearly two weeks since her heist and despite initially planning on stepping out of Shinobi’s life, she found herself missing him , he gave her much needed distraction and fun, so she had accepted several more dates with him. She had surprised him by suggesting the club this evening.
“Have I told you how amazing you look tonight?” he asked.
Storm’s mouth quirked. “Several times.” She was wearing an outfit similar to the one she had originally worn to the club, a red and black corset, laced in the front, low slung leather pants and chunky boots. Her hair was not up, however, instead flowing freely down her back.
Shinobi stepped towards her, himself dressed in leather pants and body hugging black tee. She preferred this look to his suits and she told him so. He smiled. “Really? So my expensive suits do nothing for you?”
“Nope.” She grinned.
“Hmm. I’ll try and remember that.” He was close now, only a breath away from her.
Ororo tilted her head. “See that you do,” she murmured. She moved into him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
He grinned at her, pulling her closer. He lowered his head until their lips brushed, but didn’t kiss her. “What do you want, Storm?” His lips teased hers as he spoke.
Storm pulled his mouth down to hers. To forget, she thought to herself, but not aloud. The kiss started slow, but soon turned heated, tongues dancing and teasing, her hands in his hair, his cradling her hips. He slid one hand along her back, to the base of her scalp, tilting her head, moving his lips across her neck, nibbling and sucking. Ororo gasped, enjoying the tingles that followed his lips. Shinobi returned to her mouth quickly however, teasing her with his tongue. Ororo pressed herself against him and he groaned, one hand moving up her corset, cupping one full breast through the leather.
Storm jerked back. “I’m sorry,” she stammered.
Shinobi took a deep breath, but said, “It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not,” she argued. She glanced down at the front of his pants, his erection obvious. “I know I’m causing you discomfort.”
“Discomfort? Now there’s a word for it,” he teased.
“I just…I can’t change who I am,” she said.
Shinobi ran one knuckle down her cheek. “I don’t want you to.”
He was so good to her, she thought. After reading his journal and knowing the inner struggle he had where she was concerned, made his patience with her all the more unbelievable. Storm bit her lip, thinking. Turning away from him she pressed the button beside the observation window, darkening the glass. She turned back to him, smiling slowly. She grasped his hands in hers and walked him backwards to the leather couch. He gave her confused look and her smile broadened. She gave him a gentle shove, sending him onto the couch.
“Storm…?”
“Hush.” She took a few steps away from him. “Let me dance for you.”
Closing her eyes Ororo let the music flow through her, moving with it seductively, running her hands along her body. She could hear Shinobi’s breath quicken as she moved and she partially opened her eyes. “It’s all right,” she whispered. “You can.”
She watched with lowered lids as his hand slid down his body, undoing the button of his pants, lowering the zipper. He raised dark eyes to hers and she nodded, still moving to the music, bending and swaying to the rhythm. Storm would not have believed how erotic a sight watching him touch himself was had someone told her, but it was, she thought. Completely erotic. And it made her feel strangely powerful to know she effected him this way. His hand was moving inside his pants and his breath quickened even more, but his eyes were on her. “Let me see,” she whispered, surprising herself as well as him.
He shifted, pulling out his erection, moving his hand against the hard flesh in jerky motions. Storm took a shaky breath, watching him… wanting him, she realized. How was that possible? She wondered. She loved Wolverine, she knew she did, but her attraction to Shinobi was growing rapidly. Her head was fuzzy and once again a dull pain throbbed at the base. She ignored it, moving closer to the couch. She was still dancing, but now she was touching him, her hands on his thighs as he worked himself.
“Storm,” he groaned her name. She leaned in, kissing him, her tongue licking across his lips and he arched off the couch, eyes shut, coming forcefully.
She leaned away from him. “Better?”
He shook his head. “Worse. I want you so bad,” he said, pulling her across him. “But I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
Storm’s head swam. “Shinobi…”
“Yes?”
“Something’s wrong…” The room went black.

Storm blinked several times, she lifted her pounding head slowly. She was tied to a chair, she realized, her arms yanked behind her and bound, her ankles tied to separate chair legs. There was a dryness in her mouth, a slightly antiseptic taste lingering there.
“Ahh, you’re awake.” Shinobi sat across from her, lounging comfortably in a plush black and red wingback chair, one ankle resting on his knee as he swirled a glass of scotch, watching her.
“Shinobi…?” Her brow furrowed. What was going on?
“You look troubled, Storm.” He leaned back, smiling at her.
Storm looked around the room, taking in her surroundings. She was in Shinobi’s bedroom.
“Recognize my room?” he asked softly. “You should. You broke in here not two weeks ago.”
She didn’t deny it, simply stared at him, waiting.
“Not feeling talkative?” He set the glass he was holding onto the small table beside the chair, rising to his feet with familiar feline grace. He walked to her, crouching so that there faces were level. “That’s all right. I don’t feel much like talking either.” He caressed her cheek and she flinched away. He scowled at her. “Back to that are we?” He moved away from her. “You were a challenge, Storm.” he said mildly. “It took more than just my flare for seduction to get you here. Isn’t that right, Emma?”
A woman with ashen blonde hair dressed entirely in white stepped forward from behind Storm’s chair, her pale blue eyes glittered with hidden mirth. “Yes. Most definitely a challenge.” She leaned up, kissing him soundly.
“What is it you want, Shinobi?” Storm asked quietly. Her vision blurred, her voice slightly slurred. She had been drugged she realized, barely able to form a coherent thought.
He smirked at her. “I want you.”
Storm frowned. “I thought we were together...”
He shook his head. “No, we weren’t.” He slid one arm around Emma’s bare waist. “If not for Emma’s help I doubt you would have ever come within fifty feet of me.”
Storm gave the woman a vacant stare. “Let me guess, telepath.” Her head lolled forward again. She struggled to lift it.
“Clever girl.” Emma said caustically.
Shinobi lifted his glass from the table, taking a swallow from the amber liquid before returning his attention to Storm. “You see, Storm, Emma here has been helping me…woo you. The key to getting close to you was to use elements of truth.” He looked at her again, an ugly smile twisting his handsome face. “I did want to seduce you, Storm. I thought I could, but you were damn stubborn.”
Emma gave a low chuckle. “But really not all that hard to manipulate once we learned what it was you wanted.”
He strode across the room in three angry steps, the back of his hand connecting with her cheek. “You could have been my queen, but all you wanted was that worthless assassin.” He took a ragged breath, fixing his shirt.
Storm winced. She had been with Shinobi hadn’t she? What was he talking about? Her head ached. Emma kneeled down. She stroked Storm’s hair away from her eyes. “Hurts, I know.” She tapped Ororo’s temples. “I had a devil of a time working past those nifty little gadgets.” She stood, running her hands down her short skirt. “I was never able to get past them completely to control you. They kept shutting you down when I tried.” She smiled. “So I simply manipulated what was there. Transferring your feelings for one man to another.”
It was sinking into her muddled brain. Storm stiffened, listening to the far away female voice speaking to her. They had taken her feelings for Logan and manipulated them so that she would be attracted to Shinobi. But it hadn’t worked completely, she realized. The headaches, the blackouts, her inability to let Shinobi touch her, all of it was her body’s way of fighting the intrusion.
Ororo raised her eyes, glaring at Shinobi. “She’s not in here anymore,” she said quietly, referring to Emma’s manipulation. There was no attraction for the man before her, no lingering feelings, nothing that even resembled fondness, only disgust and anger.
“No,” he agreed. “I didn’t want anything ruining this night for us. I want you to be aware of everything. Fully as yourself. No outside interference.” His grin was distinctively cruel. “No more manipulation, Storm. You are once again entirely you.”
His voice was muffled and there was a dull echo in her ears, her eyelids heavy. Whatever they had drugged her with was powerful, and she couldn’t get a grip on her thoughts, couldn’t summon her powers. “You’re a sad, pathetic little man,” she said. “Brainwashing,” she laughed. “Even that wasn’t enough to make me want you to touch me.”
His grin faded and his breath escaped in a long hiss. “You will pay for that disrespect.” He lunged at her, increasing the density in his hand so when he struck she felt like she had been hit by a brick. Blood trickled from her mouth, her head hanging forward. He tilted her chin, forcing her head up, kneeling in her face. “Stay awake, Storm. The fun is just starting.” He kissed her nose.
She spat on him.
He smiled. “I knew you were a fighter.” He held out his hand and Emma handed him a cloth. He wiped it down his face, removing her blood and spit. “I shall truly enjoying breaking you.”
She gave him a sweet smile. “It’ll take more than you.”
Shinobi leaned towards her, his smile cruelly sexual. He stroked his hand along her thigh, watching her face as he moved towards her core, left unguarded by the tied position of her legs. “I look forward to the challenge.” He cupped her sex through the leather of her pants and Ororo stifled a scream, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her afraid.
Emma strolled forward, handing Shinobi a decorative curved blade. Holding the heavy handle he leveled the razor sharp edge at Storm. She glared at him, unable to do anything else, telling him with her eyes how she loathed him.
“You’ve awoken something in me, Storm, something that I enjoy.” he said softly. “A feeling of power like no other, especially knowing you will soon be at my feet begging for mercy.”
“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” she said, meeting his gaze directly.
Shinobi brushed the blade against the slender column of her throat. He stroked it along her almost like a caress, drawing a thin line of blood across her neck. “Beautiful,” he whispered.
Revulsion welled up and Storm tried to sit back in the chair. She could feel sweat beading on her forehead, running down the valley of her breasts. Her heart was pounding despite her calm appearance. If only she could clear her head…
Taunting laughter filled her mind and Storm shot a pointed look at Emma. “I thought you said no interference.”
Shinobi gave Emma a look over his shoulder. “Get out.”
Emma pouted. “But I want to watch.”
He turned the tip of his blade towards her. “Get. Out.”
Emma glowered, but strolled past them, casting Shinobi a disgruntled look. “I guess I won’t expect you tonight.”
“I will be occupied.” he confirmed. “Storm and I shall be very busy for hours to come.”
Emma left the room, tossing Ororo a kiss over her shoulder as she went.
“Where to begin?” He mused, tapping the silver knife blade against his chin.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
His gaze was heated as he spoke. “Because there has never been a woman that has said no before.”
“All of this…because I didn’t want you?” Damn, why couldn’t she focus. “And I thought Jean was a narcissist.”
Shinobi tilted the chair back, lifting her feet several inches off the floor, looking daggers at her. “Such hurtful words coming from such a luscious mouth.” He kissed her, shoving his tongue into her mouth. She clamped down, tasting blood, smiling in satisfaction even as her back hit the floor. He jerked back, clamping one hand to his wounded mouth.
Shinobi stomped on her tied ankle, cracking it against the wood of the chair leg and despite her best efforts a hiss of pain escaped her. “How very brave of you, Shaw. Beating a helpless woman.”
Shinobi stomped her again, and there was the distinct sound of bone breaking. She cried out. He grinned. “Do you consider yourself helpless?” he asked mildly.
“Untie me and find out.” She inclined her head, looking up at him. “Unless you‘re afraid.” Even from the flat of her back she held herself proudly and Shinobi felt the stirrings of desire.
Another sexual smile lit his face. “Very well.” He moved behind the chair, lifting it upright once again. He kneeled, slicing the ropes around one ankle. Storm stayed very still. He looked up at her, then sliced through the other set of ropes. Instantly her legs shot out, catching him around the neck, squeezing. With a laugh he lowered the density of his body, phasing through her legs, much like Kitty through walls.
“You shall be my most prized conquest.”
Storm shakily rose to her feet, her arms still bound to the chair, her right ankle throbbing. “I am far from conquered.”
Shinobi lunged at her, knocking her to the wall, splintering the chair. He pulled the blade up under her chin, pressing himself against her. She moved to strike him, but her arms were numb from their long captivity and he captured her wrists easily, holding them together with the rope above her head with one of his larger hands. The other hand still held the razor sharp knife and he drew it down her front, slicing the laces of her corset. It fell open, revealing her breasts to his demented gaze.
At the touch of his mouth to one nipple Ororo shut her eyes, hot tears spilling past her lashes. Nonononono. Her brain was fuzzy, her arms numb and her body exhausted, but still she struggled against his bruising strength. White hot pain sliced through her as the edge of his blade slid along her collar bone, down the swell of her breast. She cried out in protest, but it only fed the madness in him.
“I will have you,” he swore.
“Never.” she replied. Another long cut along her torso, down to the leather of her pants.
“I will hear you scream my name, one way or another, Storm.” He jerked her away from the wall, throwing her across the room. She rolled, trying to stand, disoriented. Shinobi was lifting her, walking her towards his bed. No! She thrashed wildly and he dropped her. She scrambled away from him. “You can’t run, Storm. Resign yourself to the fact that tonight you will be made a woman. My woman.” He reached down, yanking her up by the split sides of her corset, ripping it from her, leaving her bare to her pants.
She head butted him, a move she had learned from watching Wolverine. She winced, apparently an adamantium skeleton came in handy for that move. His fist caught her jaw, sending her crashing into his nightstand.
“I will have you,” he said again.
“Shinobi.” She was on her hands and knees, panting.
He looked at her patiently.
She lifted her head, eyes glowing. “Stick to fucking yourself.”


Club Hellfire

The room was alive with the heartbeats of countless people. He walked among them, moving with the natural grace of a predator. Their scents were strong in his nostrils. Perfume, sweat, soap, alcohol and drugs to name a few.
The club was large, with hundreds of people crowded together. Wolverine blended into the shadows, moving stealthily around the room, his gaze searching. He needed to find Storm. When he had returned to the mansion Kitty had been the only one brave enough to approach him, which he admittedly found surprising. When he asked for Storm she had told him that Storm was out with Ali and Gambit.
His jaw had clenched tight when she had told him where they were. “I thought she got everything Chuck needed,” he growled.
Kitty had taken a step back. “She did. This isn’t work.”
Wolverine hadn’t bothered to bring his bags to his room, dropping them right there in the foyer, turning and marching back out the door an angry scowl on his face. Instead of taking the SUV, he had gone to the garage, tearing the tarp from his baby and roaring into the night.
He had sped through the mostly deserted streets at dangerous speeds, fury and jealousy raging alongside need and hurt. How could she be with that guy? There was something not right, here. It just didn’t smell right.
Wolverine made his way onto the dance floor, shoving several people aside none to gently. He grabbed Gambit’s shoulder, spinning him around. “Storm. Where is she?”
“Easy, homme.” Gambit shrugged him off. “Why you want ‘er?”
Wolverine glowered at him. “I wanna see her, Gumbo. Where is she?”
Alison’s spiky head appeared over Gambit’s shoulder and she gave Wolverine a narrow look. “Why?”
“It’s between me and her, Ali. Where is she?”
Ali looked him up and down, then jerked her head towards the guarded stairs. “Upstairs with Shaw.”
Wolverine didn’t think his mood could be any darker, but he was wrong, his eyes glinting hard steel. “Upstairs?”
Ali nodded. “Yup. Ya snooze ya lose, buddy.” She took Gambit’s hand, walking away.
“You can’t go up there.” A bulky bodyguard said as Wolverine approached. “Private party.”
“Yeah?” -SNIKT- “Here’s my invitation!” The blades rested against the soft flesh under the larger man’s chin.
The man moved and Wolverine struck, head butting the guy, sending him to the floor with a groan. He stepped over the unconscious man, taking the stairs two at a time. Once upstairs Wolverine paused, sniffing. Various scents invaded his nose, none of them pleasant. Drugs, opiates, sex and blood. His lip curled back, thinking of Storm with Shaw, up on the balcony, doing things together that he dreamt of doing with her.
The mirrored balcony doors were shut, sealed tight, but that didn’t stop him. Wolverine jogged back down the stairs, picked up the still unconscious body guard in a fireman carry, then returned to the locked glass doors, heaving the man through them. Glass tinkered to the ground and Wolverine shouldered his way in, sniffing the empty room. Storm had been there. With Shaw… and someone else, a woman. The scents were faint, and he cursed, they’d been gone awhile. Wolverine went to the overlook, staring down at the floor where Ali and Gambit were still dancing. They were apparently too lost in their own world to notice Storm was missing, and Wolverine felt an angry growl form in his throat. Where the fuck was she?

Shaw Mansion

Glass shattered as Ororo’s back hit Shinobi’s mirrored closet. The man sure liked looking at himself she thought, hardly able to believe they were able to transfer her feelings for a man like Logan to a pretty boy like Shaw. It explained a lot, but disgusted her all the same. How she couldn’t see…Ugh!! Shaw’s foot caught her midsection. Ok, Storm, fight now, analyze later. She tried to stand, but was completely unable to at this point. She crawled away from him and his mocking laughter followed her.
“On your knees is only one of the many positions I envisioned us in.”
Fear, real and undiluted clogged her throat as she felt Shinobi’s hands grab her ankles dragging her back towards him. She dug her fingers into the carpet to no avail. He was on her in a flash, pulling her against his erection, grinding himself into her through their clothes. He groaned in her ear and Ororo felt the urge to vomit. She elbowed him in the gut, clambering away only to have him tackle her, rolling her to her back.
He brutally crushed her breasts in his hands, pinning her to the floor. “If I had known how exciting you were, we would’ve done this long ago.” he shoved his knee between her legs, parting her for him.
“Get off of me!”
He slapped her, splitting her already raw lower lip again. Thunder boomed overhead, and she knew the weather was responding to her fear and rage. If only she could summon a coherent thought long enough to control it. He hit her again and the edges of her vision faded black. NO! she struggled to remain conscious.


The sky was a swirling vortex of rolling clouds and flashes of light. Wolverine rode like a man possessed towards the cauldron of clouds. His heart hammered in his chest, the reasons for the unnatural weather warring in his head. Storm was either in trouble or having a very good time. It was almost comical that he wasn’t sure which one was preferable.
He lowered his head, gunning the engine, swerving in and out of the downtown Manhattan traffic with unerring skill. He was five minutes away from Shinobi Shaw’s estate, but for Wolverine that five minutes felt like forever.

Shaw mansion

She was jostled by hands on her hips, trying to yank her pants down. Ororo blinked rapidly, trying to clear her eyes of fresh tears, swatting at Shaw futilely. She was losing this fight she knew, but refused to give in. The silver of his blade glittered in the light moments before he sliced up the side of her pant leg, then the other, leaving her clad only in her black lace panties.
Shinobi paused, staring down at her, running his hand over her flat stomach and touching her lower.
She kicked him in the head, rewarded by a deep stab to her upper thigh. She kicked him again.
“I find your struggles far less amusing now,” he warned, slamming her legs to the floor. He was frustrated she could see and angry. Good.
She moved to kick him a third time, but he flipped her. He wrapped one hand in her hair, pulling her back against him. He was fumbling with his own pants now and Ororo felt a scream welling up in her chest. Oh, Goddess, no. Please, no. She cried internally, but remained stoically silent even as she felt the tip of his dick pressing at her through her underwear. He rubbed himself against her, groaning loudly.
“I want you to know I would have treated you like a queen, Storm. But now you will be my whore.” He reached down sliding her underwear to the side, and she screamed loudly, raw and bloodcurdling, the night turned day by the white hot flashes of lightning whipping across the sky.
The bedroom door splintered open and a dark shadow stood in the archway, six long claws extended. “Get yer fuckin’ hands off her!”
Shinobi rose, lifting Storm in front of him like a shield. “You obviously never learned manners, Wolverine.” Shinobi hissed.
Wolverine didn’t reply, his head lowered, the beast within him intent on the kill. He had been outside when he had heard Storm’s bloodcurdling scream and he had never moved so fast in his life as he did in that moment. Now, seeing her, bloody and beaten, her eyes shadowed with horror, all he wanted to do was kill.
Wolverine stepped into the room and Shinobi placed the edge of his knife to Storm’s throat.
“You just signed yer own death sentence,” Wolverine snarled.
Ororo gave him a steady look, catching his attention. She jerked her head back, surprising Shaw and clipping his chin. It was a small distraction but it was all Wolverine needed. Ororo dropped to the ground as he moved.
Shinobi swore, flinging his knife in Wolverine’s direction, but Wolverine was simply not there, moving with fluid grace and speed. He thrust himself between Shinobi and Storm. With blurring speed he attacked, contemptuously marking Shinobi’s face with three deep furrows. Shinobi screamed, trying to harden himself against the attack.
Wolverine’s low growl sent chills down Storm’s spine. She watched the battle, unable to tear her gaze away. She heard Shinobi’s whimpers of pain as Wolverine coolly, relentlessly and mercilessly slashed him to pieces. Blood splashed the floor, splattering the walls. Storm backed away slowly, her gaze on Wolverine’s face, it was an implacable mask of death. His assault on Shinobi was the coldest most merciless thing she had ever seen. Each slash was deliberate, intentionally bringing the most amount of pain. Shinobi didn’t stand a chance and within minutes he was covered in thousands of cuts.
“You thought yerself fit to touch her,” he was snarling. With a quick slice Shinobi’s hand fell to the floor. “To look at her!” He ran one blade across Shaw’s closed eyes. “To use her!!” Wolverine’s voice was more growl than vocal and Storm turned away as Wolverine effectively castrated the man who had attacked her. He followed by burying his fist into Shinobi’s chest, ending the other man’s life ruthlessly.
Storm realized she was still sitting in just her underwear and she grasped for something to cover herself with and a low sob escaped her when she realized there was nothing.
The sound brought Wolverine out of his killing frenzy. His troubled eyes settled on where she was huddled on the floor. He moved towards her and she slid back. He slowed, watching her carefully. Her teeth were chattering and her eyes were glassing over. “’Ro?” he reached for her, his hands dripping with Shinobi’s rhesus negative. He swore, wiping his hands on his pants for the lack of anything better. “It’s all right, darlin’.”
“Logan…” Ororo held her arms up to him, unable to stand.
He removed his jacket and scooped her up, covering her and holding her like she was a child. Once outside he zipped his jacket on her, apologizing that all he had was the bike. She didn’t respond, simply rested her head on his shoulder. He seated them so that she sat curled against him in the front of the seat. It was an awkward and highly illegal way to drive, but he didn’t really give a shit.

Xavier Institute
Loft

Steam poured from the faucet as Logan washed the blood from his hands. When he was done he grabbed some washcloths and towels, filling the bathtub with hot water. He turned to Ororo who was seated on the toilet lid in her robe staring at the wall, her expression vacant. He knelt in front of her. “I’m just gonna clean ya up, darlin’.” he whispered, throat clogged. He dabbed her bloodied lip with the edge of a washcloth. She didn’t even blink. He wiped away the blood from under her nose, gently cleaning the cuts on her forehead, talking to her in low soothing tones the entire time. Once her face was clean he tossed that washcloth in the trash, picking up a new one. He soaked it and gave her a pained look. “I need ta see the rest of yer wounds, baby.”
She made no response and Logan placed his hand under her elbow, helping her stand. He untied her robe, taking in her form. He went perfectly still, angry and horrified at her wounds. A sound raw and wounded tore at his throat. How could anyone have done such a brutal, unforgivable thing to someone as pure as ‘Ro? There was nothing sexual in his appraisal, only concern. Long deep cuts graced her torso from collar bone to waist and Wolverine felt the urge to kill that fucker all over again. He ran the warm cloth over the injuries, taking care to be gentle. Once her front was clean he turned her, stroking her back, cleansing the cuts, pulling glass from her skin. Once that was done he carried her limp body to the steaming bath, hoping the heat would ease some of her soreness. She was still silent and he worried. After a few minutes he rinsed her hair, lifting her back out of the tub, drying her carefully, wrapping her in her robe. Her ankle was still very swollen, so he carried her to her bed, laying her down gently.
He tucked the blankets around her, moving to shut off her lamp so she could sleep. Ororo’s hand shot out, gripping his wrist almost painfully. “Don’t leave me,” she whispered hoarsely.
Logan moved to her side at once. “I ain’t leaving,” he assured her.
Ororo nodded, but didn’t release him.
Hesitantly, uncertain of what to do, Logan sat on the bed beside her. Ororo lifted the covers in silent invitation. Without a word, Logan slipped off his boots and slid under the covers, fully clothed, pulling her into his arms, her head resting on his chest. He stroked her long hair, watching her. She didn’t close her eyes, just stared straight ahead, her breathing shallow and he knew she was fighting tears.
“It’s all right ta cry,” he said in hushed gruffness.
Ororo was silent, listening to the steady drum of his heart under her ear. She breathed in his earthy, male scent and was comforted. Her body trembled with the aftermath of Shinobi‘s attack, but her mind and heart were clear. She couldn‘t stand the idea of one more day passing without him knowing what he meant to her. “I love you, Logan.” she whispered closing her eyes. Her softly spoken words seemed to drain the last of her energy, her breathing deepening as she welcomed sleep.
Logan continued to stroke her hair, even as his chest heaved and silent tears coursed down his face. “I love you too, ‘Ro.”

Xavier Institute
Loft
Dawn

Ororo woke to find Logan leaning over her, staring at her with dark eyes. She reached up, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw.
A stubborn jaw. Determined. But nice, she thought.
Logan shifted slightly, capturing her hand in his. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his thumb tracing the lines of her palm.
“Drained.” She ran a hand through her tangled hair. “Unkempt.”
Logan unfolded himself from the bed, stretching with the lazy grace of a predator, walking to her bureau and picking up a silver comb. He returned and sat behind her, mindful of her bruises, and began to patiently smooth the tangles from her hair. It felt good and Ororo closed her eyes, allowing herself the comfort of the bristles moving along her scalp.
Behind her Logan’s gaze darkened at the sight of a particularly ugly bruise on her neck. He bent his head, stroking his tongue soothingly across her skin. It was an instinctive act on his part, wanting to ease her hurt.
Storm jumped at the velvet roughness of his tongue moved on her neck. His head was bent, nuzzling her behind her ear, rumbling low sounds, comforting her in the only way he knew how.
Unbidden fear clawed through her, swirling in her brain in her blood. She was completely vulnerable now, helplessly drained. It was going to happen all over again, brutal possession and tears welled in her eyes, a moan welled in her throat.
Her fear ate at him. It shouldn’t have-he knew he wasn’t going to hurt her-but it did, turning him inside out. He touched her silky skin softly, a man who many believed held no gentleness, touching her with extraordinary tenderness. “I won’t hurt ya, darlin’. I know yer afraid.” He slid her robe from her shoulders and nuzzled her again, inhaling her fragrance, his hand moving over her shoulder, down her arm. His hands traced her body, finding every scratch, every bruise. Storm gasped when she felt his warm fingers tracing the long wound on her thigh.
Ororo could barely breathe, his touch soothing her hurt, taking away the horrible memories of Shinobi’s hands on her. She needed him to heal her, and that both frightened and enthralled her.
Logan turned her gently, his heart hitching. She looked at him through lowered lashes. “Yer beautiful,” he whispered. Pride and possession warred in his steel eyes as his gaze swept over her bare skin. Tears glittered on her raven lashes.
The was a low murmur, a rumble of something she didn’t quite catch and then his fingers were brushing her tears away, closing his hand around them, holding them fisted to his chest as if they were as precious as diamonds. He then took her hand, meshing it with his, her tears trapped between their palms. His eyes still holding hers he leaned forward, his tongue stroking her bruised knuckles.
Ororo stirred, a small sound escaping her. Logan bent his darkened head to the deep bruise at the corner of her mouth. Her heart lurched crazily. She closed her eyes against his masculine beauty, against the tenderness etched on his handsome features. His tongue lingered over her lips, then slipped inside to sooth the cut on her inner cheek from where her teeth had broken skin. He was soothing her every physical hurt, but at the same time easing the terrible ache in her heart, healing her body and soul.
Logan’s body naturally responded to hers, the taste and feel of her, the sight and smell, but he ignored it. This was for her, and her alone. He was determined to replace every bruise, every scratch, every bad memory with his touch.
“Logan?” Her breath was coming in small pants, caught somewhere between pleasure and terror.
“Every wound, ‘Ro.” His tongue swirled against her shoulder. He them moved lower, trailing his moist mouth over her collar bone, lapping her salty skin, then further still, his tongue rasping her nipples, easing the pain, covering the ugly marks Shinobi left with his fingers.
Ororo’s fingers tangled in his thick mane, weaving through the surprisingly silky ebony strands.
Logan closed his eyes. She was melting his heart, his empty existence with her beauty. She was all that he was not. Compassion, forgiveness, light and goodness, where he was dark, merciless, without feeling, a killer, a beast. Love for her was growing in his chest and it was a dangerous and powerful emotion. He caressed and soothed, but didn’t demand anything from her in return, only wanting to ease her pain.
All of Ororo’s fears were being pushed aside by the heated tenderness of Logan’s mouth, by the gentleness in his touch.
So lost in his ministrations he almost didn’t hear her softly spoken words. “Twice in my life someone has tried to take what is solely mine to give.” Her voice broke, her heart in her tear-filled eyes. He raised his head to look at her. “I give myself to you, Logan. Freely and without reservation.”
“I know you’re afraid, “Ro. I can smell it.” He ran his hands along her ribcage to her breasts. “I won’t hurt ya, darlin’.”
“I know,” she whispered.
Logan slid his thumbs along the underside of her breasts lightly. “I’ll show ya how it’s supposed ta be, ‘Ro.” He kissed her flat stomach. “Special.” He moved lover, his tongue sliding along the crease of her hips. “With such pleasure.”
Flames raced through her body as his mouth claimed her. She moaned, low and soft. His hands slid under her back, holding her gently but firmly as he worked his mouth against her silken flesh. His every thought was for her, to ensure her pleasure, to show her how much he loved her, to worship her the only way he knew how, with his body.
She arched into his mouth a startled cry coming form her as his tongue found her hidden pearl. Tremors started in her stomach, pressure building. He stroked the center of her heat with infinite tenderness, building her need. Ororo moaned his name. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. The pressure was building inside her and she gasped, trying to squirm away from him, not understanding. But he did.
“Let go, darlin’. I’m here ta catch ya.”
At his rumbled words and the return of his tongue to her she shattered. Her body seemed to fragment, colors exploding behind her eyes. Logan held her as her body rippled with pleasure. He pulled her close into the shelter of his broad frame, desperately needing to be close to her. He was bathed in sweat and his own body clambered for release, but he ignored it. Only wanting to see to her needs.
Ororo met his hungry gaze. Hot. He was so hot. Her hands tangled in his thick hair, crushing it as she pulled him to her. Somehow his shirt open to his tapered waist, the hard muscles of his abdomen revealed, though neither one of them could say how it got that way. The rough, dark hair on his chest rasped erotically over her nipples. Ororo’s hand pushed his shirt from his wide shoulders. She watched with enormous blue eyes as he shrugged out of it, his heated gaze holding her captive. Eyes filled with intense desire, so much hunger for one woman. Her.
Uncertain of what she was committing herself to Ororo cautiously touched the tips of her fingers to his chest. He took a ragged breath, closing his eyes at her touch. His hunger was deep, wild and urgent, she could tell. How could she deny his fierce need? Or her own for that matter? He slid her robe completely from her, tossing it to the floor. His own clothes were becoming increasingly tight and uncomfortable. He gave her a questioning look, asking.
“Yes.” she said.
His clothes were gone scant seconds later and he covered her body with his own. He heard her gasp as the hot hard length of him pressed against her thigh. For a moment she went utterly still. She caught his face in her hands, taking a deep breath, trying to calm down. “What if I can’t do this, Logan?” she sounded frightened. “What if I can never do this?”
“I would never make ya do anything ya didn’t want ta, baby.” he replied, kissing the hollow of her neck.
“You don’t understand,” she said. “What if I can’t please you?”
A puff of air escaped his mouth. Not please him? He leaned up over her. “You are heaven’s gift to a man, ‘Ro. I am plenty pleased just holding ya.”
“I want this,” she said quietly. She arched slightly, rubbing against him. “I need this.”
Logan understood. She wanted to forget the pain and he was only too willing to erase the hurt from her eyes, soothe her body, make her his. His. Logan’s body moved on hers, hard and hot, but his hands were gentle as he cupped her head in his palm maintaining eye contact. One knee slid very slowly between hers, giving him access. He pressed intimately at her entrance. She was slick and hot, tight and velvet soft. Her fingernails dug into his back as he eased his way inside, inch by excruciating inch. He felt the thin barrier of her virginity give way and was surprised by the burn in his eyes and the ache in his chest, moved by her gift to him. “Relax,” he whispered on her lips. “Relax fer me, baby.” He gave a final push, his breath hissing between clenched teeth as he was fully engulfed in her fiery heat. So tight. So hot. He growled, low and long. He feathered kisses on her temples, on her nose, his mouth settling on hers as his hips began to move in a gentle coaxing rhythm.
She could feel the sheen of perspiration on his back, evidence of the effort he was exerting to hold back. He moved into her with exquisite care. In spite of her initial fear and the fading memory of her attack Ororo felt her body responding to his. Slowly the burn between her thighs gave way to fiery pleasure, her body relaxing, accepting his. “You were made fer me,” he breathed as though reading her thoughts.
Logan buried himself deeper, his strokes long and slow. Her nails dug into his back once more, his name on her lips. God he loved how she said his name. She clutched him to her, following his tempo, moving together as they were meant to, their hearts beating in matching thunder. His hands slid over her, gently and reverently, his soft words of encouragement tickling her ear. He was incredibly loving, initiating her with care and tenderness, as if she were the most precious thing in all the world. It was unbelievable the way he made love to her. He pulled her legs around him, and she complied, pulling him closer.
Logan’s knees were on the thick comforter, his hips pressing forward, and he made certain that each thrust rubbed her tingling flesh. The pressure was building in both of them. He cupped her breasts, lowering his mouth to lick each coffee nipple, turning them into beckoning peaks. Ororo lifted into his suckling mouth, a broken cry coming from the depths of her soul. Beautiful. He was so beautiful. Her fingers dug into his buttocks, urging him deeper into her.
He burned for her in his body and in his mind, there was a dull roaring in his head, wiping out all thought, leaving only sensation. Outside the winds picked up. Neither heard or cared. Logan moved over her, kissing every hollow and shadow, his rough velvet tongue igniting a fire on her flesh. He drove away her demons, the terrible fear, the bitterness. She took away his loneliness, the memories of hideous deaths and terrible sights best left forgotten.
His body took hers in possession, demanding and giving all at once, a mating that went on and on. A bolt of lightening sizzled and danced across the early morning sky. The very earth seemed to move beneath them. None of it mattered. He took his time, ensuring her pleasure.
Ororo was gasping and moaning heatedly now. Sensation like she had never known before pooling in her abdomen. Her breathless cry of release was swallowed by Logan’s mouth as he claimed hers in a deep penetrating kiss, his hips surging forward. The tight tremors squeezing him inside her velvet sheath were his undoing. With a hoarse shout he pounded into her, his own release mind numbing. He arched his head back, the tendons on his neck in stark relief. “I love you,” he roared, his seed spilling in an endless torrent. He bucked against her, in the throes of an orgasm like nothing he’d ever felt before.
When it was finished her rolled, pulling her across his chest, both of them slick with sweat, chests heaving. They lay in silence as their bodies returned to normal, his lips brushing the snowy cap of her head. He held her close, listening as her heart slowed, as her breathing eased, breathing deep her scent mixed with his. Theirs. He hid his smile in her silken tresses.
“You love me?” Her hushed whisper surprised him, he had thought she had returned to sleep.
Logan modified their position, leaning against the pillows, cradling in his lap, her head on his shoulder. “Yeah, I do.”
He felt her smile against his skin. “That’s nice.” she yawned.
Logan chuckled. “My declaration of love boring ya, darlin’.”
She bit him playfully. “Thank you.” She lifted her face to his, kissing him softly. “You made me feel loved. Cherished. Honored.” She punctuated each word with a brush of her lips.
He captured her face in his hands, staring into her liquid blue eyes. “I do love ya, ‘Ro. I ain’t ever letting’ ya go.”
She smiled lovingly. “The same goes for you, Mr. Bad-ass Wolverine.”
“Ye’ll get no complaints from me.” He slid from the bed, holding her to his chest. He padded across the room towards the bathroom, holding her tight. He never let her go, not for a second. Not when sliding the glass door open, not when adjusting the shower temperature and not the entire time they stood in the glass rectangle. He cradled her under the warm spray of water and her fingers trailed absently down his neck and across his shoulders.
Need slammed into him low and wicked. His dark eyes slid over her wet form, slowly, possessively. In his head a dull roar began again. He had just had her and already he wanted her again. He knew he should wait, she was probably still tender, but he wasn’t sure he could. Ororo lifted her head from his shoulder as she felt him stirring against her rump. She raised one eyebrow.
“Healin’ factor,” he mumbled.
A slow sultry smile spread on her face. “Again?” she breathed.
“I don’t wanna hurt ya…” his protest was weak.
Ororo kissed him slowly, her tongue teasing his, her eyes drifting shut as she enjoyed the feel and taste of him. “You won’t,” she replied an he was lost.


Headmaster’s Office

“I see.” Charles rolled from behind his desk. “You’re sure he’s dead?”
Wolverine snarled. “As a fuckin’ doornail.”
“Profanity,” Charles reprimanded absently. He turned to Storm. “I am terribly sorry for what has transpired.”
Storm tilted her head, her eyes ice blue chips. “I find it hard to believe you couldn’t sense another telepath messing with my marbles.”
Wolverine shot her a surprised look. She hadn’t mentioned she suspected Chuck of any wrong doing. Then again, they hadn’t done much talking this morning. He tried not to smile at the memory, finding it a rather difficult task even in the circumstances they found themselves in.
Xavier didn’t reply and Wolverine straightened from his leaned position against the wall. Storm was staring at Charles unflinchingly, waiting for a response.
“There were extenuating circumstances to you association with young Mr. Shaw.” Xavier began.
“Uh-huh, like his million dollar donation to the Institute.” Storm rose from her chair. “You knew,” she accused. “You knew the entire time what they were doing to me and you let them. You pimped me out like some…some…well, pimp!” she snapped.
-SNIKT-
She turned towards Wolverine. “No,” she said quietly. “this is between me and him.” She didn’t ask him to leave, however, and Wolverine retracted, but continued to watch with predatory eyes. She turned back to Xavier, her eyes glowing white. “Let’s get one thing perfectly clear, Charles. You may have pulled me in off the streets but we both know why you did it. These others may buy your benevolent leader bullshit, but I don’t.” She placed her hands on the arms of his chair, leaning in so their faces were only inches apart. “We both know what I’m capable of. Let’s not piss me off anymore, ok?”
Wolverine couldn’t contain his smile this time. Damn.
“Yes, Storm, we both know why you are here.” His tone was indifferent, but Wolverine could smell unease emanating from the man. “I have not forgotten.”
“Good.” She stepped back. “My team is taking the week off.”
“I don’t think-”
KA-BOOM!
“Very well.”
“In Vegas.” She didn’t know why she threw that out there, but there it was.
Xavier rolled behind his desk once again. “Take the smaller jet.” He picked up his phone. “I have some clean up to manage. It may be best if you were out of town for a few days. And Storm, I truly am sorry for what happened.”
“No, Charles, I don’t think you are.” She opened the door to his office. “I hope whatever it is you’re after is worth the sacrifices I see you making to your soul.”
The door closed quietly behind her and Wolverine. Xavier took a deep breath, his head bowed slightly. “Me too, child.”
“Wanna fill me in,” Wolverine asked as the walked the hall, leaving Xavier to his calls.
“Which part?”
“All of it, any of it. Your call.”
She loved that about him. His trust in her. It seemed he‘d always had it, since that first walk in the woods. “Let’s get some lunch. I’ll fill you in without my grumbling tummy distracting me.”
The cafeteria was crowded when they strolled in and Wolverine suggested they head to the main house. Storm shook her head, scanning the crowd of students for her team. Kitty was waving wildly over her head and Storm smiled, wincing at the small pain that action caused her bruised mouth. Aside from her split lip and bruise her face was otherwise unmarked and she had no intention of filling everyone in on what had happened, so she was thankful for that.
“It’s just teenagers, Wolverine. They don’t bite.”
He tugged her braid gently. “But I do.” he said the words low and soft, at once his dark gaze possessive.
Ororo was a bit startled by the power his gaze had on her, her face flushing and her blood heating immediately. Her fingers brushed his jaw deliberately and he trembled beneath her touch. It took them both a moment to realize the cafeteria had gone completely silent.
Storm glanced at the doorway, where Jean stood frozen, like a deer in headlights. The growl that came from Wolverine was terrifying. She placed her hand on his arm, soothing him. He turned to her, his teeth bared, but she was unafraid, knowing now he would never hurt her. She flashed him her teeth in return. “Grrr, baby.”
Wolverine felt his lips quirk. Was this what it was like to be loved? To be teased? No one had ever teased him before, none daring to incite his wrath, all terrified of the animal in human clothing. All but Storm.
“Come on, Kitty’s arm’s going to fall off.” She laced her fingers with his.
Wolverine gave the room a dark look and everyone immediately returned to their conversations, slightly louder than before.
“Hi guys!” Kitty beamed. “Wowsa! What happened to your face?”
“I can’t hold my liquor,” Storm said flatly, sitting across from Shadowcat. The marks would probably be gone by the next day she knew, but for now she’d just acknowledge them only if someone else did first.
*BAMF* “Hello Storm.” He kissed Kitty on the cheek, sitting beside her.
“Hey, Crawler.” She greeted. She and Kurt had engaged in a long discussion after the events with Jean and it had helped the fuzzy elf tremendously.
“Have a seat, Wolverine. You’re making me nervous,” Kitty said semi-serious. Wolverine didn’t respond, but he did take a step closer to Storm, resting his hands on her shoulders, absently massaging the tendons there. She leaned back into him, content to let him touch her.
“Everybody can relax! Gambit has returned.” A familiar Cajun drawl sounded behind them. “”Ey der, Stormy!” Gambit’s smile froze on his face. He dropped to his knees in front of her, reaching up to touch her swollen mouth. Wolverine’s fierce growl echoed. Gambit ignored him, his red eyes searching hers. “What ‘appened?”
“She got drunk,” Kitty supplied.
Gambit frowned, knowing it was a lie. Storm didn’t drink in excess, hell she barely drank at all. “Padnat?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Honestly.” She leaned back into Wolverine’s hands.
Gambit stood, looking the other man up and down. “Why do I get da feelin’ I should be t’ankin you?”
“Don’t.” Wolverine snarled. “Some big brother you turned out ta be.”
“Wolverine.” Storm said firmly. She looked at Gambit. “Where’s Ali?”
“Here I am.” Alison was strolling towards them, her dark hair in two short pigtails, wearing a punked out school girl uniform with combat boots. “Thought I’d pull a Shaw. Whatdya think?”
Storm’s stomach rolled.
“Easy, darlin.’” Wolverine was crouched in front of her in a second, seeing how ashen her face had gotten. “I’m right here.” He ignored everyone else, his heavy gaze on Storm.
She trembled under his hands, but she gave him a small smile. “I know.” She leaned forward, resting her forehead on his. He cradled her head, his thumbs tracing the contours of her ears. “I know,” she said again.
Around the table the other members of X-Men Black glanced at each other, knowing on some subconscious level that something had happened and nothing for the two mutants holding each other would ever be the same again.
After a short silence Storm glanced at Ali again. “I think it looks better on you.”
She stood. “Okay team. New assignment.”
They looked at her expectantly.
“After you eat I want each of you to go to your rooms, grab a suitcase, put in a swimsuit and some shades and meet me in the hanger by three o’clock.”
“What’s up?” Alison asked.
Storm gave her a devilish smile. “What happens in Vegas…”
Alison laughed. “Stays in Vegas!!” She grabbed Gambit’s hand. “C’mon, Yummy. We got packing to do.”
Kitty and Kurt were staring, mouths agape. “Really?”
“Really.” Storm laughed. “See you in two hours.”
Walking back up to the loft Wolverine growled in her ear. “It don’t take two hours ta pack.”
She smiled at him with warmth and love. “I know.”

Las Vegas, Nevada
Bellagio Hotel and Casino

Hot. He was unbelievably hot and it had nothing to do with the sweltering sun overhead and everything to do with the woman gliding through the water of the pool he was lounging beside, beer in hand, dark shades concealing hungry eyes. He had taken her three times yesterday, each time loving it more than the last. Loving the way she moaned his name, the way she arched her back, the way she…Logan groaned, changing position in the lounger, tugging his shorts.
Ororo swam to the edge of the pool, her white hair slicked back from her gorgeous face. She really was breathtaking to look at, he thought taking a drink, with her caramel and gold Egyptian skin, wide lips, straight nose and dancing cerulean eyes. Her long locks fanned the water behind her, surrounding her like a protective cape. She was smiling at him with unabashed affection and he couldn’t believe how fortunate he was to have her in his life.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked in her familiar sultry voice. Dark velvet is what that was, he thought.
He leaned forward in his chair, resting one elbow on his knee. “C’mere and I’ll show ya.”
Ororo placed the flats of her palms against the side of the pool, levering herself from the water, giving him a nice view of her ample bosom as she did. He watched with genuine male appreciation as the water sloshed down her body, trailing sparkling rivulets over seductive curves. She stood, tall and graceful, clad in a white and silver two piece. He enjoyed the way clothes hung on her, almost as much as he enjoyed her naked… almost. She always appeared carelessly sexy. He knew she never intended to look alluring and that was part of her charm. Innocent seductress.
She walked over to him, her hips swaying in a purely feminine fashion and his eyes glittered behind his lenses. When she was close enough he snatched her hand, tugging her down onto his lap, eliciting a startled laugh from her. It was good to hear her laugh. He lifted her chin with the crook of his index finger and she removed his sunglasses, staring into his eyes without reservation. “I love you.” She was becoming increasingly comfortable saying the words and he never tired of hearing them. He couldn’t look away from the rich blue of her eyes, probably couldn’t have moved if his life depended on it. He blinked to keep from drowning in her gaze and found himself staring at her lush mouth. Her lips parted expectantly. He groaned, accepting her invitation, kissing her lightly.
“Ororo,” he whispered. An ache, at least that’s the way it came out. An ache from the bottom of his black soul. He knew he was unworthy of her but he was too selfish to care. She was his, only his. She teased his mouth with her tongue and he shook with desire. He wanted her with every cell of his body, and so did the beast. Untamed. Wild. He wanted to bury himself deep inside her, mark her, claim her. No. He took a ragged breath. Not like that. No.
Sensing he was having some sort of inner struggle Ororo brushed the tips of her fingers against his lips, soothingly, lovingly. A muscle twitched in his jaw and his steel eyes turned molten mercury, a look she had never seen before.
“You’re a temptress, ‘Ro,” he growled, cupping her face, running his thumb along her delicate cheekbone. She was so strong and yet so utterly feminine. A worthy mate. Again the beast raised up, his blood pounding in his head.
She sensed his need for comfort, sliding closer, wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her damp head on his broad shoulder.
She was wreaking havoc on him. Unfamiliar emotions surged wildly through him, making his fist clench in her wet tresses.
Ororo delighted in the feel of his arms holding her, but she wanted more. She sensed a wildness in him, beckoning her, calling her truest self, but he repressed it quickly and she felt slightly bereft. Her lips drifted to his ear. He growled, standing, swinging her into his arms, ignoring the startled eyes of the other tourists as he carried her from the pool, up the walk, through the lobby and into the elevator.
Her breath was heated silk, her mouth hot satin as she kissed his neck. Her teeth nipped gently and he almost dropped her. All thought left his mind, replaced by mindless scorching hunger. Her teeth nibbled his collar bone, her fingers tangled in the dark hairs on his chest, tracing his defined muscles. Need spread through his body until he shook with it.
They made it to the bed only because he refused to take her up against an elevator wall, not that he wasn’t tempted to slam his hand on the emergency stop, but he had a feeling that they just may shake the foundations of the hotel. She lifted her head when her back hit the mattress, a smile curving her lips. Mysterious. Sexy. His.
Logan made a sound part groan part chuckle. His little innocent was seducing him, and doing a damn good job of it. He lowered himself over her, taking possession of her sweet mouth, his tongue exploring her full bottom lip, his teeth tugging, demanding. Ororo sighed sweetly, opening, allowing him access. He gave her long, drugging kisses that made her heart catch and body scream. He moved against her, letting her feel his desire, his hunger, his need. Lightning sizzled and danced overhead right in their room, and the roaring in his blood increased. She was nature, his perfect mate.
Ororo tilted her head, moaning his name, undulating her hips against his. Logan felt his vision turning red, the beast so close now, wanting to mark her. No. He fought it down. He wouldn’t take her like that. Not ‘Ro. Yes, ‘Ro! His inner animal screamed. Only ‘Ro!
He found her throat, soft and vulnerable, her heavy pulse beating under his silken lips. His teeth clamped against her firmly, but not breaking skin. She sighed in pleasure. Hands tore at her bathing suit, needing to feel her supple skin. Not fast enough! -SNIKT- Material floated to the floor in strips.
Ororo’s breath caught, realizing that something was about to be unleashed in him, something far beyond her control. She should be frightened, but she wasn’t, he excited her. He was everywhere, his body hard and demanding, his superior strength slightly intimidating. His eyes were feral and he grabbed her waist, dragging her to him, bending her back to feast on her breasts. She tangled her fingers in his rich hair, holding him to her, each flick of his raspy tongue sending moisture to her core.
He moved against her, hard and thick, still clad in his cargo shorts. He lifted his head and his eyes glinted, reflecting heat and…pain? Ororo leaned up against him, tasting him. She trailed her tongue over the beads of sweat glistening in his dark chest hair, moved lower, teasing his stomach muscles with her fingers, then following with the caress of her tongue on his ripped abdomen. She reached around him, grasping the muscle of his buttocks, pulling him even closer. His groan was guttural, torn from his throat. She continued her assault, tugging his waistband. Logan stood, dropping his shorts, completely unabashed by his body. And why would he feel insecure? Ororo thought with a wave of pleasure. He was perfection. Hard muscles, male essence and a feral quality that made him a full on assailment to her senses. She moved to the edge of the bed, tugging his hips, pulling him closer. Her tongue slid against his navel and he shuddered. She liked the effect she had on him. She let her breath tease the velvet head of his erection and his fingers tangled in her hair, bunching reflexively.
Ororo took his heavy heat in her hands, stroking him, cupping him. His hips bucked of their own accord. Her tongue flicked the head. “Ya don’t have ta ‘Ro,” he said, barely able to get the words out.
She glanced up, a heated look beneath lush lashes. “I want to.” Hot moist heat enclosed around him.
Logan threw back his head, his hands tightening in her thick silk. His breath panted between clenched teeth. Never had he felt such intense pleasure.
Ororo kissed, stroked touched and licked, fascinated by him. He was hot and hard and heavy, but surprisingly soft to touch, like steel wrapped in silk. He braced his feet apart, urging her on with his grunts and groans. She swirled her tongue along the ridge in her mouth and Logan jerked. “Fuck,” the breath left his body in a rush. “Ya just might kill me.” Her tongue swirled again, and his hips rocked, a rhythm he suddenly had no control over. She was going to make him come, and he didn’t want that. Wanted to be buried in her, holding her as he found release. Calling on a will he didn’t know he had, he caught her under the arms, tossing her backwards onto the bed.
He covered her instantly, felt her moist heat, enticing him. He bent to her throat, nuzzling and nipping. He moved away from her slightly, then surged forward in one powerful stroke. Filling her, making her whole. She cried out with the pleasure of it, clutching his shoulders. She bit his neck.
“Aw, fuck, ‘Ro.” His voice was a haunted growl, low and deep. His lips curled back, revealing his longer canines. His tongue lapped her neck and she felt him tense. Again an inner struggle seemed to be going on and she had no idea how to help him.
She cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. His eyes were faintly reflective, like a wild animal and she knew then what his struggle was. He had been so gentle and loving with her, forcing himself to move slow, for her, so he wouldn’t hurt her, or remind her of anything bad. She wanted to cry with the love she felt over his actions. But didn’t he know? Didn’t he understand that she didn’t fear the violence and aggression she knew lingered just beneath his surface? It was a part of him, a beautiful part, that held her enthralled and called to her deepest core. She would show him that the fire that raged in him also raged in her. She gave him a slow smile, then very deliberately lifted one leg around his hips, locking him to her as she arched up and clamped her teeth to his chest.
His body jerked, but her leg kept him locked. The roaring need in his body suddenly engulfed him and his body took hers with aggression, domination, his teeth finding the soft skin of her throat, canine’s piercing, tasting the addicting coppery essence of her blood, his mouth moving with frenzied hunger and he fed on her and loved her. He became insatiable, taking her harder and faster. Her body convulsed in pleasure, but still he didn’t stop. It wasn’t enough, he would never get enough. He plunged deeper, his low grunts and rumbles rasping in her ear. Ororo placed her hands over her head, palms upside down against the wall, bracing herself as he thrust in and out of her, forcefully moving the mattress. He was beautiful in his lust. Savage and animalistic, but beautiful to her all the same. This was her Logan, the one no one else could have and her heart sang.
She turned her head, finding his mouth with hers, their tongues battling. She caught his lower lip, tugging, nipping. He rested his forehead on her shoulder, his body driving into hers. She cradled his head, her frantic cries increasing. The earth rocked.
He gripped her hips, his strong fingers firm , nearly bruising, holding her steady as the pleasure mounted in them. Once again he felt her inner walls tighten around him as she found release, screaming his name as electricity danced along the walls and thunder crashed, echoing through the city. They exploded together, a moment he would never forget. White hot heat momentarily blinding him.
When the shudders subsided he laid his head beside hers, closing his eyes, hiding the moisture there from her. He held her tightly, never wanting to let her go.
Ororo ran her hands across his shoulders, stroking, soothing. She was always soothing him, he thought. Always having to sooth the beast. His lip curled. He had taken her like a fucking animal. His precious ‘Ro, like an animal. He was disgusted with himself, but not with the act. How could he get such pleasure from taking her like that? He was a monster.
She lay quietly beneath him. He was heavy, but was supporting most of his own weight. He went very still, except his breathing which was harsh. Fighting his inner demons again.
“Logan?” she kissed his shoulder. “Stop beating yourself up over who you are.”
He glanced up at her, a bit surprised that she had known his inner turmoil. “You mean what I am.” he snarled.
She grabbed his stubborn jaw, forcing his eyes to hers. “What you are is the man I love.”
His arms tightened, nearly suffocating her, but she made no complaint. “I’m dangerous, ‘Ro. More dangerous than ya know. I’ve killed so many. Taken so much life. I’m known as the soulless killer. An animal without mercy.“ He cradled her head in his large palms. “I can’t even remember most of my life and what I do remember ain’t pretty. I think maybe the pieces of my soul were destroyed a long time ago. If I was a man, any kinda man at all, I’d let ya go, leave ya to lead a happy life.” Even as he said the words his gut clenched at the thought of being without her.
Her hands stroked his sweat dampened hair away from his forehead. “You have been through so much, and you may feel empty, but I’ve seen into your heart, Logan and I see the man you are. But you are only ever going to be half a man if you don’t accept everything about yourself. You are wild, untamed, a part of nature. Can’t you feel the answering call in me?”
He pulled her closer still, not letting her go. His body was still buried in hers and he felt himself stirring, his hips moving once again, insistently. He centered his attention on the feeling of gliding in and out of her body, slowly, savoring each motion. She opened her mouth to speak again and he silenced her with his tongue, kissing her passionately. “Later, ‘Ro.”


Bellagio Lobby
Much Later


“Are you sure I look okay?”
Kitty gave an humorous exasperated sigh. “For the hundredth time, yes, sweetie, you look fine.”
Kurt stood in front of her, looking perfectly normal, an X-man image inducer hiding his fuzzy appearance beneath an interactive hologram, much like the ones used in the danger room. “Although,” she said, grabbing his hand. “I prefer the fuzzy elf.” She leaned up, kissing his cheek.
“Ja?” Kurt smiled.
Kitty leaned her head on him. “Mmhm.”
“Careful guys, my shoes are sticking to the floor with all that oozing sweetness.” Alison said giving the younger couple a wry look. She turned to Storm. “What’re they doing again?”
“Getting tickets to some UFC fight.” Ororo said. She was leaning against the concierge counter, fiddling with the black band she wore around her wrist, waiting with Ali for Gambit and Wolverine to return from their errand.
“Oh, yeah.” Ali gave her a searching look. “So, you and the lone warrior, huh?”
Storm couldn’t contain her smile. “Yes.”
Alison was quiet again. “Uh, hey, Storm. About the other night--”
Storm placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Ali, don’t. It wasn’t your fault.”
Ali hadn’t bought the drunk and stumbled excuse any more than Gambit had, and had questioned Ororo relentlessly on the plane ride. After it became clear Ali wasn’t going to drop it, Storm had filled her in on everything from Shinobi and Emma to Wolverine’s timely rescue. It was the first time Storm had ever seen Alison cry.
“I love ya, girl,” Ali said now, hugging Storm. They stood that way for a long moment, friendship morphing into sisterhood.
Wiping her eyes Ororo looked over at Kitty and Kurt. “What are you two doing tonight?”
Kitty clapped excitedly. “We’re going to Circus Circus.”
Ororo gave Kurt a questioning look. He hated the circus, said it reminded him too much of the time he spent there, being gawked at and feared. His yellow eyes were on Kitty and Storm knew he was going only to make the younger girl happy. She ruffled his hair. “Sounds fun. Behave.”
Kurt gave her a devilish grin, that would have been unbearably charming as the elf, but was still adorable.
Kitty laughed. “Yeah, right.”
“Ok, don’t get arrested,” Ororo amended.
“Deal.” Kitty took Kurt’s arm and the two of them were off. “See you in the morning!”
Alison and Storm moved to the center of the room, to the furnished waiting area, each plopping down onto the overstuffed beige cushions. Simultaneously they propped their booted feet on the glass coffee table.
“I like your hair like that,” Storm said.
Alison touched her dark strands with ring laden fingers. Instead of the familiar spikes, her hair bounced in multiple layers, still wild, but not gelled. “Yeah, Yummy likes to run his hands through my hair.”
A smile played with Ororo’s full lips. “Uh-huh.”
“Hey, I’m not cock whipped or anything,” Ali defended.
Ororo shook her head. “I wouldn’t think that possible.” A startling visual entered her mind and Storm burst out laughing.
Ali gave her a disgruntled look. “Oh, now that’s just wrong.”
Ororo continued to laugh and Ali swatted her with one of the tacky throw pillows from the couch.
“Der dey are.” They turned, watching over the back of the couch as Gambit and Logan sauntered across the lobby.
Ororo felt a familiar warmth at the sight of Logan, He was wearing his trademark black body hugging sleeveless tee, bulky muscular arms revealed for her viewing pleasure, dark jeans and cowboy hat. Goddess she loved that hat. He grinned when he saw her staring at him, a flash of white on his shadowed face, a purely sexual smile that pooled heat low in her abdomen. Damn, the man even had a dimple, she noticed faintly disgruntled by how easy it was for him to melt her insides.
“Hey there, darlin’.” He slid one arm around her waist, pulling her from the cushion. She smiled, kissing his stubbled chin, giving it a gentle suck as she did. He rumbled at her, inflamed by her faintest touch.
“Don’ know if I can ‘andle you wit da Wolverine, chere,” Gambit teased. He stood behind Alison’s shoulders, bending to rub his nose against her cheek. “Petite bella,” he whispered in her ear and Ali felt the shivers to her toes.
“Deal with it, Gumbo,” Wolverine growled, but there was a distinctive glint of humor in his steely eyes. Apparently the two of them had buried whatever hatchet needed to be buried and Ororo was pleased. Beyond pleased. She looked at the people before her with the startling realization that they were no longer just members of a team. They were all so much more than that. Her brother, Gambit, her best friend, Ali, her soul mate, Logan and two innocents that she would die to protect making their way to Circus Circus Her family.
“Ready ta get going” Wolverine asked.
Storm nodded. “Did you rent a car?’
He grinned. “Two of ‘em.”
“Two?”
Gambit chuckled, walking past her. “Vroom vroom, chere.”
“No. Absolutely no racing.” She said, but her blood stirred at the idea.
Gambit gave a mock shocked gasp. “Who are you and what ‘ave you done wit’ my Stormy?”
Ali stepped forward grinning. She gave Storm a wink. “Boys versus girls. Losers picks up tonight’s tab.” She challenged.
Logan was smirking at her. “Darlin’?”
Storm eyes twinkled. “Prepare to buy some expensive drinks, Wolverine.”

Goddamn, the girl could drive! Wolverine watched with a mixture of fear and admiration as Storm swerved her low Mitsubishi sports car under the belly of a roaring semi, coming out the other side, passing them. He heard her laughter on the wind.
They were racing along a long stretch of desert highway, deciding to head out of the city before heading back to the fight. First one to the MGM Grand won. Wolverine swerved around another truck whose horn was blaring, pressing the brand new Mustang’s gas pedal to the floor, burying the speedometer.
Gambit braced his feet on the dash saying, “You ain’t gonna catch ‘er, homme. When it comes t’ carjackin’ and racin’ der’s no one better den Stormy.”
Wolverine slid him a sidelong glance. “Carjackin’?”
“Oui. Stormy be a t’ief.”
“I knew that, Gumbo. I just didn’t know what she stole.”
Gambit shrugged. “Whatever she could t’ put food in our bellies.”
Wolverine swerved again, passing a sleek black Porsche easily.
“Now dat’s a shame. If dey gonna own da car, dey should learn t’ drive it, non.”
Wolverine said nothing for a minute. He appeared to be concentrating on his driving. The red taillights of the Mitsubishi came into view and he gave a wicked grin. “Hold on, Cajun.” Wolverine maneuvered the car alongside of Storm’s.
“Goin’ our way?” Gambit called through the open windows.
Ali blew him a kiss. “Maybe!”
“Only if you can keep up,” Storm laughed. They were quickly approaching a narrow corner and she flashed Wolverine a devil may care smile.
“We ain’t both gonna fit, darlin’.” he warned over the roar of the engines.
“Then slow down,” she laughed back. Wolverine shook his head. “Have it your way.” With that Ororo slammed the brakes, making a quick jerk on the wheel and manipulating the car to the opposite side of the Mustang, her driver’s side tires elevated against the rock canyon. She gunned it, the car climbing the side, hugging the wall, flying around the corner in a stunt that one would have thought impossible.
“Christ.”
“Toldya.”

MGM Grand

Storm was leaning against the driver door, long dark denim clad legs crossed in front of her, hands resting on the open window casing. “What kept you?” She asked mildly as Wolverine and Gambit pulled into the space beside her.
Wolverine shook his head. She was amazing. She was looking at him, her head cocked, an impish smile on her face. He exited the Mustang, tossing the keys to Gambit. “I’ll be ridin’ with her,” he said.
Ororo laughed. “What can I say, I’m the best there is at what I do.”
Logan’s head lifted. “Hnh.”
“Okay, folks, we ready to rumble?” Ali asked from her seat on the top of the car. She tapped one black booted foot impatiently, apparently eager to get inside.
Gambit approached her, swinging her down into his arms. “You’re a bloodthirsty little t’ing, non?”
“Sometimes.” She grinned cheekily. “Complaining?”
“Not at all, chere.” He grinned back and Ali was lost. The man was walking charm, charisma personified and she was helpless against it.
They were making their way across the parking lot when Alison said, “If this is half as good as the throw down Storm gave Princess Grey I can’t wait.”
Wolverine stopped walking, raising one black eyebrow. “Throw down?”
“Ali,” Storm said, but was ignored. Gambit chuckled.
Ali grinned. “Oh yeah, it was awesome! Thunder booming, fists a flying. I think my favorite moment was the roundhouse to Cyclops’s head. I mean seeing Jean begging and eating dirt was nice, but Cyke on his ass, blind and bumbling was sweet too.”
Wolverine was staring at her and Storm flushed. “Ali…” she warned again, only to be ignored again.
“Then there was the wall of wind!” Ali waved her arms and made a whooshing sound. “And Bobby in the pool. Man, it was WCW material in our front lawn. Personally I think Jean got off light, but ah well. At least I had front row seating.” She nudged Wolverine. “Too bad ya missed it.”
“Yeah, too bad.” His dark gaze was unrelenting and Storm had to meet it.
“Oh, all right. I got a little miffed.” She rolled her eyes. “The girl’s still walking isn’t she?” She was surprised when Logan pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply despite Gambit’s exaggerated groan.
“Thank ya, darlin’.”
“For what? Kicking the snot out of Jean? My pleasure.”
“No. fer loving me enough ta fight fer me.” He whispered it in her ear and she hugged him.
“I’ll always fight for you,” she whispered back.
Ali sighed. “I wanna see blood, peeps.”
Storm gave her a threatening smile. “How badly do you want to see blood spilt?”
Ali laughed, racing across the lot, Storm chasing her.
“Der a ‘andful, non?”
Wolverine chuckled. “So are we.”
Gambit grinned.

Las Vegas, Nevada
MGM Grand



“Oh Yeah!!” Alison cheered loudly as one of the two male combatants in the octagon shaped ring landed a particularly vicious blow, sending the other man into the wall of the enclosure.
“Enjoying yourself?” Gambit asked as she sat back down.
“Hot, sweaty, heavily muscled men duking it out? What’s not to enjoy?” she replied, and Gambit looked mildly ruffled.
From her seat beside Alison, Storm smirked. Ali was fun, and somehow managed to keep the roving Cajun clearly enchanted. Storm couldn’t think of one other woman that Gambit looked at like he looked at Ali. Granted they had been apart for six years, but she doubted he’d had any great loves during the separation. Ali had a mind of her own and wasn’t afraid to use it. And a mouth. Ororo shook her head, thinking of the parking lot incident. Ali sure made things interesting. She returned her eyes to the ring, cheering herself as the fighters clashed and grappled.
Blood sprayed across the matt and after a brief discussion with the referee, they resumed fighting. Storm applauded loudly, having a good time. Wolverine drank in the sight of her, ignoring the fight. He’d seen better, been in tougher. She was leaning forward, mouth slightly parted, watching the caged battle with avid interest. He felt a small flare of jealousy, but pushed it aside. It was the fight itself, not the fighters that held her attention.
He stroked a hand along her long hair that hung loose down her back, brushed straight before they left, a striking contrast to the black lycra top with lavender trim she was wearing. Her top stopped a few inches before the waist of her jeans, leaving a glimpse of smooth flat abdomen. She wore her simple black bands on her wrists and one ring on her thumb. She didn’t require make-up or decoration, Wolverine thought, remembering the countless lipstick applications Jean did in a day, and the number of other women he had been with that couldn’t pass a mirror without fussing or primping. Not ‘Ro. Of course it didn’t hurt that she was stunning without it.
She sensed him staring at her and cocked her head his way.
“Having fun?” he asked.
She nodded. “You?”
He nodded in return, the roar of the crowd drowning out any response he would have given. Wolverine glanced at the ring, watching as they raised one fighter’s hand in victory. Couture or someone. He turned back to Storm, knowing they were almost finished here. “What else ya wanna do tonight, darlin’. The night’s still plenty young.”
Before she could answer a large, muscular man in a dark coat with the letters MFC came up to them. He was grinning excitedly, his brown beard twitching. “Hey man! You’re Wolverine right?”
Wolverine tilted his cowboy hat and gave the guy a cold stare. “Who wants ta know?”
“The name’s Derek. Derek Miller. I saw you fight a few years ago up in Canada, bare-knuckle boxing. Man you were unstoppable!”
Wolverine stood with a growl. “What is it ya want?”
“Here’s my card.” Derek held out a small white rectangle. “I sponsor a fighting circuit for mutants. We’ve got an event taking place later this evening, it’s a ten thousand dollar purse so we have a lot of fighters tonight. Come check it out.”
Wolverine took the card, sniffing slightly. The guy smelled truthful enough.
“Ah, hell yeah!” Ali said leaning back past Gambit’s shoulders, giving Wolverine a thumbs up. “We should go!”
Derek finally noticed the rest of them. He nodded to them and gave Storm an appreciative look, lingering on the generous swell of her chest.
“Eyes up, Bub.” Wolverine snarled causing the other man to jump and hastily remove his eyes.
“So will you come check us out?” Derek asked. “We’re not a normal tourney man to man circuit. You fight until you fall, last man standing wins. It’s interesting.”
Wolverine glanced at Storm. Truth be told he was itching for some violence. It’d been too long since his last real fight and the temptation thrummed through his veins. She nodded at him.
Wolverine turned back to Derek. “We’ll stop by.”
The man grinned broadly. “Great. The directions are on the card. It’s in the desert, bare hands, no weapons, no holds barred, just to warn you. Some of the fights are pretty brutal.”
Wolverine said nothing. “Okay, then,” Derek continued, “the fights start at midnight. Doors lock at twelve fifteen.”
“We’re going?” Ali asked excitedly when he was gone.
“Storm?” Wolverine looked at her. “What do ya say?”
She could sense the anticipation in him and she would not deny him his fun. She winked at him. “I say we go and you win us some spending money.”
“Sweet ass!” Ali exclaimed jumping onto her chair.
“Funny, I was jus’ t’inkin da same t’ing.” Gambit drawled, gazing at her behind.
Storm rolled her eyes in good humor. “Come on, Wolverine, we should go grab some food before the fights.”
“Are you sure about this, darlin’?” He asked as they strolled through the parking lot, her hand interlaced with his. He caressed his thumb across her satin skin.
She paused to touch his cheek. “You want this,” she said.
He didn’t deny it.
“Yes, I’m sure. Let’s have some fun.”
His grin was positively feral.


Midnight
Unnamed Location
Nevada Desert

The first fight was over before it began. Wolverine stood, muscled chest bare, in the center of an erected cage, not even breaking a sweat as his opponent lay bloody and moaning in the sand. The cage door swung open and the fallen mutant was removed and a large black bald man came in. He was solid, Wolverine could tell, and comfortable with violence. The man crooked his neck back and forth , popping it, bouncing up and down. A long forked tongue flickered from his mouth. Interesting.
“Now entering the ring, please welcome Python!”
The man lunged forward immediately but Wolverine sidestepped easily, reading the other mans moves before he made them, his fist planting against the larger man’s temple, then under his jaw, knocking him to the ground. The crowd of onlookers cheered. Wolverine took a step back, allowing the man to get up. He knocked ‘em down but he didn’t kick ‘em while they were there.
The man shook himself, then jumped in the air, spinning, aiming his foot for Wolverine’s head. Thwap. Wolverine caught Python’s heel with one hand, holding it aloft for a moment, making the man hop on one leg before shoving him away. Crouching low Wolverine moved in with four rapid punches, breaking the man’s nose, his jaw and a knee to the midsection, cracking three ribs. Over.
Again the cage door opened and two large men came in to remove the doubled over Python. Wolverine scanned the crowd for Storm. She was standing beside Gambit cheering. She smiled at him. He grinned. It felt good to have her here.
Four matches, two broken arms, five broken noses, a ruptured spleen and a shattered pelvis later and still Wolverine stood untouched, now covered in sweat, and the blood from his fallen adversaries, feeling exhilarated. His body hummed with adrenaline, the anticipation of the next fight. He flexed his fingers, rotating his shoulders. The cage door opened and his seventh challenger entered the ring. Wolverine hunched his shoulders, the muscles on his back contracting and expanding as he did.
In the crowd Storm heard several women gasp and sigh. Alison heard it too and gave Storm a teasing look. “Looks like I’m not the only one with a Yummy.”
Storm crossed her arms over her chest. “These girls may find themselves smacked up and slammed into that cage if they don’t put their tongues back in their heads.” She glared at the ogling women close to her.
Ali laughed. “I know the feeling.”
Storm nodded, knowing how often Gambit was hit on and looked at by women. That devil encouraged it though, with his flirtations and charm. Although, Storm had noticed a severe decline in wandering eyes of her brother. “Where’d Gambit disappear to anyway?” She asked after a minute.
“Taking a leak.”
“Oh. Good to know.”
“You asked.”
“So I did.”
The newest fighter went down with the tread of Wolverine’s boot imprinted on his chest and Storm hollered with the crowd. Wolverine pushed one hand through his damp hair and gave her a delicious wink, making her heart stutter.
“My, my. he is rather yummy,” Alison said with warm appreciation.
“Talkin’ ‘bout me again, petite?” Gambit returned. He held out a beer to each of them. Ali didn’t answer, just smiled mischievously and opened her beer. Not one to take a backseat to a brew Gambit captured her mouth in a slow kiss. Ali responded with verve like she always did and Gambit barely repressed a groan. She did things to his insides no woman had done before. He couldn’t explain it, since he was a boy he’d always been attracted to the groomed, prissy beauties or the forbidden fruits. Married women, friend’s girlfriends, women he’d steal from. Never had he been attracted to the independent, tough girl. Though Ali was far more sensitive than she let on, and was extremely loving when they were alone, he thought. She was always whispering things in his ear that drove him mad. Gambit believed that maybe for the first time in his life, he was falling in love.
Storm grinned at the couple beside her, then returned her attention to the make-shift ring. There was a longer pause between this match and the others, and Storm was grateful, because this allowed Logan’s body to heal from the mild injuries he’d sustained. The ring announcer’s voice came over the bullhorn. “An unexpected challenger, folks! What a match this will be! Wolverine versus Sabertooth!”
The crowd was on it’s feet, the roar deafening. Ali leaned close. “What the fuck is this? Animal Planet? Wolverine, Python, Cougar and I think there was a Matador and now Sabertooth. Why can‘t there ever be a Bob?”
Storm didn’t comment, her eyes on the hulky shadow approaching the caged ring. Whoever he was, he was a substantially sized mutant. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as he came into view. He was a rugged looking fighter dressed in black and gray army fatigues, and a white wife beater, a mane of shaggy blond hair tumbling over broad shoulders. He was leering at Wolverine, revealing a row of jagged, sharp teeth against his scruffy face. His light eyes flashed in a predatory manner that seemed familiar.
“Ready fer a real fight, runt?”
Wolverine sniffed the air, smelling the other man’s adrenaline, and anticipation. He cracked his knuckles, loosing the tendons in his shoulders. The cage doors opened and the other man pounced before he was fully inside, his movements quick and predatory, his talons slicing Wolverine’s chest, leaving four oozing trails in their wake. It was the first real wound Wolverine had received in the cage and the circle of spectators yelled excitedly in response. Storm clutched Gambit’s arm.
Gambit patted her hand. “Don’ worry none, chere. Da Wolverine be jus’ fine.”
Sabertooth’s assault was fast and furious, his talons and teeth raking Wolverine’s flesh. Wolverine crouched low, blood dripping from his chest and neck. Lightening zigzagged across the sky jumping from cloud to cloud. ‘Ro was worried for him. He was both pleased and insulted by that.
“Ya don’t stand a chance, boy. I’m gonna slice ya apart.” Sabertooth growled. He lunged, grabbing Wolverine, heaving him overhead and tossing him to the ground, kicking up swirls of sand.
Wolverine was on his feet instantly. His mouth eased up in a idle smile. He was enjoying himself. “Who you callin’ boy?” Wolverine glided, a fluid motion, so fast it was almost impossible to follow him, striking hard and repeatedly. His fists and feet connecting over and over in a matter of seconds. Blood and spittle spraying from the taller man’s mouth. With a savage snarl Wolverine kicked the other mutant through the steel cage, chain links embedding in the blonde’s body.
The crowd scrambled, cheering wildly. The other man didn’t get back up.
“Ladies and Gentlemen we have a winner! The Wolverine!”
Wolverine turned, seeking out Storm, grinning. He’d have to thank her for this. She and Gambit and Ali were making their way towards him, but were held at bay by the throng of people rushing forward to congratulate him. Women began touching his arms and chest, phone numbers being shoved in his pants, one gorgeous redhead even cupped him. Normally this wasn’t an issue, but suddenly it irritated the shit out of him. He growled fiercely, causing most to back away.
“Good man.” Ororo said, stepping in front of him, placing her hands on his bare shoulders. He pulled her closer, his hands on her hips. She gave the women still bold enough to be hovering around a glowing white look over her shoulder. “Find somewhere else to be,” she said dangerously calm.
“Jealousy?” Wolverine said, mildly surprised.
“No. Irritation.” she corrected.
He tapped his nose. “It don’t lie.”
Ororo gave him an annoyed look, but didn’t argue.
“C’mon, homme. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Gambit chuckled at Stormy’s fired up expression. She was jealous, he knew. Who would have thought it?
Wolverine and Gambit disappeared into the shadows, towards one of the few tents around the ring. Several scantily clad women followed them and Ororo felt her teeth grinding.
“He wants you.” Alison said sensing her tension. “A blind man could see that.”
Ororo sighed. “I know. It’s just…I can’t explain it.”
“You love him. No explanation necessary.”
She smirked. “Thanks dear Abby.”
“Hey that crone ain’t got nothing on me. My advice is universal and cosmic.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Hey baby.” A low grumble sounded directly behind Storm. She turned slowly, the hairs on the back of her neck once again standing on end. Sabertooth stood behind her. “Ya smell good.” He grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling it to his nose, inhaling deeply.
Storm tried to wrench it away. “Back off, pal.”
“You like ta play rough?” He gave her hair a hard yank.
Light erupted in Dazzler’s hands. “Step off, Shaggy.”
The furred back of the stranger’s hand caught Alison upside the head, sending her to the ground. His other hand clamped around Storms esophagus, talons digging into her skin, piercing her. They were in too close proximity with others now for her to bring down a bolt, but she didn’t need to strike him, she just needed to get Wolverine’s attention. Thunder boomed in the open desert, echoing across the wide expanse.
Several people jumped, looking up into the quickly clouding sky. Wolverine emerged from the larger tent, and he lost whatever self-control he had at the sight of Storm held hostage by the large bruiser of a man he’d just defeated. The urge to kill in a mindless rage was overwhelming. “Hands off, Fuckface!” he roared.
Sabertooth held her up, her feet three inches from the ground. “This yours?”
Wolverine was across the distance separating them in two heartbeats. Gambit right behind him, cursing in French and English when he saw Ali cradling her jaw, semi upright on the ground.
Sabertooth snarled, and it sounded almost joyful. “She’s a pretty piece, ain’t she?” He sniffed her hair. “Smells good enough ta eat.”
-SNIKT- “Got six good reasons for you to walk away!” Wolverine’s voice was quickly losing it’s human quality, borderline feral.
Sabertooth licked Storm’s cheek.
Wolverine launched, surprising everyone, flipping over Sabertooth’s shoulder, six blades entering his back over and over. Storm was immediately released, landing with a thud and a gasp as she inhaled air into desperate lungs. Sabertooth dropped to his knees, then fell forward, face planted in the sand, unmoving, scarlet rivers flowing from his still body.
“Is he dead?” Ali asked quietly. Gambit was holding her against his chest, despite her assurance that she was fine.
“Yes.” Wolverine said without feeling. He had wanted him to be dead, but didn’t want to kill in front of Storm again. Didn’t want her to once again witness the monster he was. “Let’s go.” He tugged her hand, following Gambit and Ali back to their parked cars. She glanced over her shoulder once, then hung her head, watching her feet as they walked.


Bellagio Hotel
Ali and Remy’s room

“Let me do dat.” Gambit held a washcloth wrapped around ice to Ali’s swollen jaw. “Better?”
“Yeah.” She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. “I can’t believe he killed him. Just like it was nothing.”
“Gambit woulda done da same t’ing ‘ad it been you dat fucker choked. Merde, I wanted t‘ kill ‘im fer dis.” He nudged the ice.
Ali opened her eyes surprised. “You wanted to kill someone for touching me?”
He removed the washcloth from her face, replacing it with his warm palm. “Oui.”
Ali didn’t know what to say. She decided not to say anything, instead grabbing the bottom of her shirt and pulling it over her head. Gambit leaned back, watching her with his devil eyes that glowed faintly. She unhooked her black bra, letting it slide down her arms. Gambit leaned forward again, cupping her petite breasts in his hands, tracing the soft pink nipples with his thumbs. Ali moaned.
“Mon Dieu, Ali,” Gambit breathed, taking one tight peak into his mouth, suckling. “Je t’aime, cherie. Je t’aime.”
“D’accord, Etienne” she murmured, lost in his heat.


Ororo and Logan’s Room

The scent of crushed herbs filled the room, and from the old fashioned claw bathtub in the large bathroom Logan knew Ororo was burning her incense. Traces of her native land. He shifted in the water, steam rising as he did.
Ororo entered the room, going to the sink, brushing her teeth. She was wearing one of his flannel shirts and nothing else. The first few buttons were undone and as she walked he got enticing glimpses of her satiny breasts. Her long hair cascaded about her shoulders and down her back, a silken snow waterfall.
Immediately he felt the blood pounding in his head, pooling in his groin. She gave him a faint smile in the mirror and his gut tightened. How could she smile like that at him after watching him kill yet again.
She rinsed her mouth, returning her toothbrush to the ceramic holder. “This is nice,” she said softly, making her way to the edge of the tub and sitting.
He wasn’t sure what she was referring to and couldn’t form a coherent thought with her so close so he simply stared at her with black eyes. She didn’t elaborate, just bent, retrieving a ceramic pitcher from the floor. She dipped it in the tub, pouring the warm water of his head, soaking him. The touch of her fingers massaging shampoo into his scalp sent bursts of fire through his veins.
“What troubles you?” she asked, rinsing his soapy hair.
He growled, knowing he couldn’t hide from her. Ororo saw straight into him, had from the beginning. Her brightness could dispel any shadow. “I’m a soulless killer.” he answered raggedly, his body raging for hers.
“I know you believe this.” Her voice was mild. “But it’s not true.”
“Damn it, ‘Ro.” He grabbed her wrists, stilling her hands. “Look at me, I mean really look at me. Yer so good, maybe ya just can’t see what I am.”
Ororo disengaged her wrists from his grip. She returned to rinsing and massaging his scalp. “You believe you are a soulless killer. Ruthless, without mercy and without feeling?”
He grunted. “It’s what I am.”
“Logan, a lifetime of guilt for things you didn’t have control over is blinding you to reality.”
“What about tonight, ‘Roro? I killed without feeling.”
She poured water over his chest, running her fingers through the tight curls. She tilted her head, studying his harsh features. She was peering into his soul he realized with a jolt. Her voice was soft, ringing with truth and love when she spoke. “You go blank when you hunt. I know. But what would you want to feel, Logan? Sadness? Remorse? You have been forced to kill for goddess only knows how long, perhaps killing family and friends. But there is something proud and honorable in you, and that’s why you joined Xavier, participated in his dream. I know you were sent to kill him, but you didn’t and you’ve stayed for years. Stayed to fight because you have a soul and it is good.” She leaned closer, rubbing the tense muscles of his shoulders. “It’s foolish to want to feel while you’re doing your job, Logan. Feeling would slow you down, cause hesitation, perhaps cost lives. You’ve been programmed to kill, and it’s in your nature. But it’s in all of us to kill. In me, in Gambit, in all of us.”
“But ya don’t kill.” he said throat raw.
Ororo gave him a loving look. “No, we don’t have to live with that torment because you handle it all for us. You take the burden onto yourself. If that doesn’t show you a noble soul, then I don’t know what else to say. Except that I love you. All of you. And I see,” she leaned even closer, her forehead on his, staring into his tormented eyes, “who you really are, even if you don’t.” She kissed him.
His body was fully engulfed now, burning for her, the beast inside writhing in need, wanting to believe her, needing to posses her. She stood, unbuttoning his shirt, his glittering gaze was hot, hungry and wild. Untamed. She allowed the shirt to slide from her shoulders to the floor.
His breath left his chest in harsh pants, watching her. Wanting her. Logan stood, water sloshing onto the floor. “C’mere.” he growled, his body rock hard with need.
Ororo shook her head. “No.” She stepped away from him. “I don’t want a soulless killer. Come to me, Logan, if you believe that I see you. All of you, and love you. Come to me and share in that love…or let me go.”
He leapt from the tub, crashing into her, driving her into the wall. He held her there, his mouth on hers hot and demanding. He slammed her hands above her head, exposing her delicious breasts to his hot mouth. “Mine.” he rasped, suckling hungrily.
“Why?” she asked, breathless. “Why am I yours? Why not let me go?”
He didn’t respond, his mouth working its way to her other breast, distracting her. She clenched her teeth against the insane pleasure. “Answer me, Logan.”
He lifted his head. “I am answering ya darlin’. With every touch, with every kiss. I’m telling’ ya why, I’m showin’ ya how much I love ya.” He swung her into his arms, carrying her to the bedroom. He sat her on the edge of the bed, kneeling before her on the floor, parting her thighs.
Ororo cried out at the touch of his mouth to her throbbing center. She clutched his wet hair in fisted hands. He lifted her legs to rest on his shoulders and she fell back, rippling against him, broken gasps coming from her. “Please…” she moaned, not knowing what she was begging for. For him to stop? To continue? Ahhhh, Goddess…. She lifted her hips and he grunted. He stood, moving over her. “Hurry,” she rasped. “I burn for you.”
He thrust into her, crying out hoarsely as he did. There was no restraint this time, only the desire to be complete with her. To make her scream his name, to lose himself in her hot velvet, to love her.
Ororo arched under him, her nails scoring his back.
“Oh, God, ‘Ro.” He slammed into her. “Yer so tight.” Again. “So wet.” Again. Mineminemine!!! The beast roared in his head and he clamped his teeth into her jostling breast, marking her, claiming her. His. Ororo. His. Ororo. His. “’Ro!” he growled, licking her wounds. His precious ‘Ro.
She was frantic, moaning his name now, lightning flashing outside, thunder shaking the windows. He thrust harder, anchoring her hips with his hands. He watched her through hooded eyes and was undone by how sexy she was. Her kiss-swollen mouth parted, giving him a glimpse of perfect pearly teeth, and soft pink tongue. Her eyes were closed, long lashes fanning her cheeks and her demanded she open them. Ororo complied, gasping at the feral glow in his. He pinned her hands above her head once again, feasting on her mouth. His tongue was hot and wet, and she loved it. Loved him.
He could feel the ripples beginning in her body. Her head thrown back, her body arched tight as a bow. He moved faster, harder, deeper. Ororo opened her mouth, screaming his name. The windows shattered with the force of the wind battering against them, glass raining across the room, lightening dancing in the air. They didn’t stop. Both too consumed. Logan’s release was like nothing he imagined possible. White hot heat, fiery colors exploding in his mind. He shook with it, trembled and roared. Her name came out on a long howl. An actual howl.
They lay tangled and sweaty, Ororo sobbing against his shoulder, him soothing her tangled hair away from her face. “Don’t cry, baby. Please.” He kissed the tears from her lids, his tongue running along her lashes.
“Do you see?” she cried. “I love you. The real you.”
“I see, ‘Ro.” He rasped. “I love ya, baby. Fuck, I love ya.” He rocked against her, slowly, unwilling to leave the hollow of her body. “Love ya.” He kissed her.
Ororo sobbed harder, the rain coming in through the shattered windows. They didn’t care. Logan continued to rock in and out of her, not for sexual pleasure, just content to be with her, not wanting to lose this moment.
The sun was climbing the horizon when they finally closed their eyes to go to sleep, still joined in the most intimate way they could be. By their hearts.

Las Vegas, Nevada
Bellagio Hotel


Ororo awoke to gentle but insistent lips against her own. It was a decidedly pleasant sensation and she savored it. She slowly lifted her eyelids, and found herself staring into Logan’s dark steel. He brushed her mouth again, parting her lips as his hands parted her thighs. She was already hot and wet, throbbing for release and she had the distinct impression he’d been working on her sleeping body for awhile now. She moaned as he slid into her, moving in gentle rhythm. “Logan.” she sighed, tangling her fingers in his wild mane. He increased his pace, and soon both were moaning and straining against each other. She came with stunning swiftness, clamping her legs around his waist, lifting her hips off the mattress, and Logan followed, his hoarse cry of completion in her ear. They lay panting and entangled, murmuring softly to each other.
His lips grazed her shoulder. “I could get used ta wakin’ up with you in my arms.”
Ororo smiled. “I could get used to being here.”
Logan’s eyes twinkled. “Then get used ta it. I ain’t spending’ another night without ya.” He nuzzled her cheek, chin and throat.
They made there way to the shower, taking their time, enjoying the warm spray, washing each other, kissing and holding one another. Logan had never wanted to fall in love, never thought he was the type, but with ‘Ro he felt whole. The missing piece of his soul was her, and he was never going to let her go. As he thought it he pulled her into his arms, simply holding her.
Ororo sighed. Who knew he was so loving? Constantly touching her, just little gestures that made her feel, well, cherished. Precious.
They were drying each other off with large fluffy hotel room towels, which she suggested they take with them when they returned to New York, when a soft knock sounded on their door. “Housekeeping.” A low voice said.
Ororo pushed back her wet hair, pulling one thick white towel around her, securing the end under her arm. She gave the sparkling shards of glass on the floor a wary look. “I don’t think they’re ever going to let us back in here,” she said with a frown.
“We can ignore ‘em.” Logan rested his hands on her hips, brushing his mouth over hers slowly, drugging her senses.
More knocking, louder this time and a…giggle? “Housekeeping. Open the door.”
“I don’t think they’re going to leave. Did we forget the do not disturb sign?”
“No, it’s there.” Logan lifted his head, sniffing. He rumbled a bit, strolling to the door, still unabashedly, completely, naked.
“Logan, what on earth are you doing?” Ororo demanded in a hushed voice as his hand closed around the doorknob.
“It’s quarter past seven ‘Ro. Housekeeping don’t show up fer another hour. I smell crawfish and hair gel.” He opened the door with a quick jerk. “Go away.” Wolverine growled.
Ali and Gambit stood in the hallway. Ali’s eyes lowered involuntarily, and her mouth dropped open, a startled gasp coming from her. “Oh wow.”
Gambit quickly clamped his gloved hand over her eyes.
“Sorry, mon frere. We be goin’ for breakfast now, but I can see dat you‘re busy.” Gambit attempted to maneuver Ali away, while keeping one hand firmly placed over her blue green eyes.
They were halfway down the hall when Logan heard, “That Storm sure knows how to pick ‘em.” Followed by a distinctly unpleasant sound from Gambit. He closed the door.
“You’re terrible.” Ororo chided with a smile.
Logan smirked. “That’s not what you were moaning in my ear not thirty minutes ago.” Ororo snapped a towel at him. He easily avoided the cotton whip, removing it from her hands with a playful growl. “Breakfast don’t sound like a bad idea though,” he added.
Yawning Ororo nodded. “I could sure use some caffeine.”

Downstairs Restaurant

“The others are over there.” Ororo nodded her head in the direction where Kitty, Kurt, Gambit and Alison were seated at a table, engaged in friendly conversation. Kitty was feeding Kurt spoonfuls of scrambled eggs, her cheeks a rosy hue. Gambit attempted the same with Ali only to have her nip his finger.
Logan nodded, but made no move to join the others. “Yeah, I know. Let’s get our own table before they see us.“ A hostess escorted them to a table and once they were alone again he said, “Ya were gonna tell me what’s the real deal with you and Chuck.”
Ororo sighed softly. “What do you want to know exactly?” She pushed her thick ponytail over her shoulder, leaning in with her elbows on the table, resting her chin on folded hands.
“How’d ya meet?”
“It was a while ago, actually. I was on the streets of New York city. Homeless, starving, dirty. Charles pulled up in a limo and asked if I wanted a ride. I refused at first, thinking he was some sort of perv, but he did a little mental nudging and soon I was in the car, listening to his ‘Dream’ spiel.”
“Go on.” Logan leaned back in his seat, listening intently.
“He approached me several times after that, each time I felt a little more drawn to the idea.”
Wolverine nodded, not really liking the idea that Xavier had mentally nudged Storm into accepting a position on the X-Men.
A waitress approached, asking for their drink orders.
“Coffee. Black. And Orange Juice.” Ororo responded. “Also, I already know what I want to eat. Small stack of pancakes, two eggs, over easy, three strips of bacon and a couple of sausage links. Home fries if you have them and a fruit cup.”
Logan raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“Nothin’, darlin’.” He barely glanced at the waitress, his eyes on Storm. “I’ll have the same, minus the fruit cup and orange juice.”
“It’ll be just a few minutes.” The petite brunette removed their menus.
“Ok, so then what?” he prompted when they were alone again.
Ororo took a sip from her ice water. “Then the nightmares began again.”
Logan leaned forward, remembering what she had told him about her parents.
“Remember that freak series of floods last year?”
Logan nodded. The mayor of New York had declared them a federal emergency, requesting aide to help fortify the streets and install pumps to remove the water. “Well,” Ororo was saying. “that was me. My powers are linked to my emotions and when I’m upset violent weather occurs.”
Logan remembered the windows shattering in the cafeteria at the Institute and again in the hotel room last night. “Hell of a way ta live,” he said, not without feeling.
“I get by.” She shrugged but he caught a strong whiff of sadness from her. “Anyway, Xavier realized what was going on and tracked me down. He offered to help me with my…problem, and in return I would be an X-man.”
Logan was silent for a long minute, watching her carefully. “There’s more to it than that,” he said quietly.
There was a heavy silence. “Yes.”
Logan waited, not pushing her for the answers.
Ororo shifted uncomfortably under his steady gaze. “There is a man, if you could call him that, that I am running from.” She was looking at the table now, not at him.
Every muscle in his body tensed. ‘Ro was being hunted? “Who?” Wolverine growled.
“His name is unimportant.” she replied.
Wolverine gave her a hard stare. “His name,” he demanded again.
“Amahl Farouk.”
Logan nodded, logging it to memory.
“Xavier has given me a means to stay undetected from him.” She tapped the spot directly behind her ears. “The neural inhibitors scramble my psychic signature, making me near impossible to locate and they somehow can block out him. Seeing as how both Jean and that Emma freak were able to get in my head, as well as Charles, it’s a pretty safe assumption that they only block him out.”
“So, Chuck’s protecting ya.”
“In a manner. In all actuality there are a couple of reasons I think Xavier’s keeping me close. One being that he’s afraid of what will happen if Farouk gets a hold of me again.”
“Wait.” Logan’s brows lowered. “Again?”
Ororo took a deep breath. “Yes. I was a slave of his until I was kidnapped when I was eight by Papa-Jean. That‘s how I came to be Gambit‘s little sister.” She cast the dashing Cajun a loving glance over her shoulder. The four others were still enjoying their meal, not yet noticing Storm and Wolverine on the other side of the restaurant.
Wolverine’s teeth gnashed together. His beautiful Ororo a slave. Motherfucker. He reached across the table, warm fingers stroking her cheek. “I’m sorry, darlin.’”
She gave him a brittle smile. “Me too. Those are times best left forgotten.” For a moment Ororo could almost smell the opium haze that clung to Farouk, she could almost see the women being subjected to perverse sexual desires, girls as young as ten. She shuddered, thanking her goddess that Jean-Luc LaBeau had found and rescued her before it was her turn. As it had been, many a male would request her from her owner, but she was Farouk’s favorite, his best thief and would not be used until she had outlived her usefulness. She knew that he himself desired her, though he never touched her, but she knew even as a child, and it sickened her. No, Farouk would not share her. He would whisper to her in her mind as she slept, speaking of how one day she would help him rule the world, how he would make her his queen. Ororo shuddered.
“Darlin.?” Logan was peering at her worriedly.
“Sorry. What?”
“Where’s this guy now? Is this the guy you wanted me ta kill?”
Ororo blinked, remembering her comment to him their first walk. “No.” She took another drink of water. “Farouk is nowhere and everywhere now.”
Logan cocked his head. “I ain’t following.”
Ororo exhaled slowly. “Long before Charles met me, Xavier met Farouk. Maybe he sensed what he was and wanted to meet him, I don’t know all the details, I was living in New Orleans at the time.”
“What he was?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Farouk is a mutant telepath.”
“Hnh.”
“So, Xavier met him. I don’t know what exactly transpired, but it wasn’t good.”
The waitress approached with their food. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Ororo said, unfolding her napkin, placing it on her lap. She took the cup of coffee gratefully. Logan may be able to function one hundred percent on two hours of sleep, but she needed at least four.
Logan took a bite of his eggs, though his appetite had significantly decreased. “How do you know it wasn’t good?”
For a minute Ororo’s eyes clouded with pain. “It’s because of Farouk that Charles is in a wheelchair.”
Logan was startled. He had never questioned Chuck as to what had happened, firmly believing it was none of his damn business. “How?”
“Some sort of mind-duel. Xavier won, trapping Farouk’s mind on some sort of astral plane, but the physical cost to his body lead to his paralysis. Even defeated and in another plane of existence Farouk managed to leak out, corrupting people, hurting them, searching for me.” She hugged her arms around her body. “He found me in New Orleans when I was sixteen. The nightmares were…unbearable.” She was momentarily distracted, recalling the awful dreams of her killing Gambit and Jean-Luc and relishing in it. “They wore me down to the point of insanity. I traveled trying to escape him, and I would from time to time, but he always managed to find me. His Hounds were always on my heels. I started downing uppers to stay awake, going days without rest. It was pathetic, and that’s how Xavier found me. A pathetic drug addicted lost soul.” Her tone implied a great deal of self disgust, and it tore at Logan’s heart.
“It seems a bit coincidental that Xavier would ‘happen’ upon you.”
Ororo nodded. “He’d been searching as well. When he mind-dueled Farouk he learned of me, of the destiny Farouk had in store for me. That‘s why Xavier wants me as an X-Man, he‘s afraid of what could happen.”
“What could happen? What‘s this Farouk bastard want from you?”
She gave him a level look, her eyes very blue. “He wants to use me to destroy the world.”
Logan frowned. He knew of powerful mutants, hell he was surrounded by them. Cyke could blast a hole through a mountain, Jean could shred your brains, Colossus could take out a nuclear sub, and Magneto had been in a league all his own. Hell, Chuck could mindfuck the world if he chose, but even he had limits. He couldn’t destroy the world, no one could.
“I can.” Ororo stated with infinite sadness when he said as much. She took a ragged breath. “It’s one of the reasons I avoid human contact, avoid getting close. I fear what my emotions will do, especially if something were to…” just at the thought of something happening to Logan Ororo felt her muscles stiffen. Logan could smell ozone gathering. “Imagine hundreds of storm systems merging, converging becoming a global rampage. Bringing mass flooding, mudslides, maybe even an ice age.”
“You can do that?”
Ororo nodded. “Just imagine the devastation of the tsunami in Indonesia on a global scale.”
“I see.” He lifted his mug. That much power in one woman? It was mind-boggling. “So Charles searched ya out, tracked ya down, offered ta protect ya and in return you what? Take on leadership of half the X’ers?”
“That wasn’t part of our agreement.” She smiled ruefully. “Charles is a smart man, he knows what I want more than anything is a place to call home. Friends. Family.” She paused. “Love.” She finished her coffee. “That’s why he brought Gambit to me. To give me an anchor so I wouldn’t drift away.”
“Go on.”
“This is where things get complicated.” She set the mug on the table. “Xavier knows the threat I bring, but he also sees what I can bring to his team. Power. Besides, I’m his failsafe.”
“His what?”
“If Farouk gets free enough to come after me full force, chances are he could destroy Xavier and his dream in the process. I’m a pretty nice bargaining chip.”
Logan was growling now. “Are you saying that Xavier would give ya t’ this S.O.B?”
“Not without a fight, I don’t think, but yes, if it meant me or the dream. C’mon, Logan, the man let me get hacked for a million bucks. I wouldn’t put much past him.”
“But if he gives ya ta Whatshishead, then won’t it all have been fer nothing’?”
She tilted her head. “Not if he kills me.”
They were silent for long minutes. Realization slowly dawned on Logan as he recalled their first real conversation:

~He said that you were an assassin. The best assassin in the world.~
~And what do you think of that?~
~I hope he’s right.~
~Why, darlin’? Is there someone you want killed?~
~I hope it doesn’t come to that, but yeah, maybe.~

“It’s you.” he said with narrowed yes. “Yer the person ya want me ta kill.”
“Like I said, I hope it doesn’t come to that but--”
“No.” His voice was a savage growl, low in his chest.
Ororo simply pushed the food around on her plate. “You won’t have a choice if the time comes, Wolverine.” She used his code name so that he would understand that she wouldn’t be asking Logan for anything, she would demand compliance from her team member.
“Then we make damn sure that time never comes.”
Ororo tried to smile, but failed. “That’s the plan.” she confirmed.
They finished their breakfast in silence.

Las Vegas, Nevada
Bellagio Hotel
Casino/Night


“Winner!” The dealer exclaimed, handing Gambit several multicolored chips. The tall Cajun was seated at the high roller black jack table, looking every inch a smooth operator in his black silk shirt and dark pants, leather choker and dark shades. He grinned his trademark sly grin, tossing a blue chip at a buxom brunette, before sauntering away from the table to find Alison. It was the last night of their week off and he wanted to enjoy it with his love.
He found his petite imp giving hell to a slot machine. Gambit stopped a few feet away, admiring her. Ali hated when he stared, but he couldn’t help it, he was fascinated by her. She didn’t think she was attractive, he knew; not because she said as much, but because he felt it from her whenever he would tell her she was beautiful. And to him she was beautiful with her cynical aquamarine eyes, her little upturned nose, with how her top lip was slightly rounded and fuller than her bottom lip, the freckle above her left eyebrow, her short spiky lashes, and her dark, wild tresses. She was shorter than he was by a good six inches, and though tough, she was slight in frame, with slender tattooed arms and small perky breasts, that he enjoyed immensely. Gambit had always used his voice and words to seduce, but with Ali whenever he commented on her appearance in any way she would subtly withdraw from him, telling him that he needn’t be charming, that he was guaranteed the goods. Remy was at a loss sometimes, not knowing how to show her she meant more to him than a good- make that great -lay. With a determined smile he made his way to her side.
“Bonjour, ma petite bella.”
Ali gave him a quick look, then turned back to the machine. “Hey, Yummy.” She pulled the machine’s arm, sending cherries and lemons spinning. “How’d you make out?”
“Gambit won of course,” he said with supreme arrogance. “And you, chere?”
“Pfft.” Ali poked her tongue out at him.
Gambit stepped closer. “Der are better uses for dat tongue of yours.”
Ali flushed as she always did when he flirted. She went to look away again but Gambit caught her chin, forcing her face back to his. He used his thumb to coax her mouth open, covering it with his own, swirling into her. Ali was in his arms instantly, wrapping herself around him and Gambit enjoyed her immediate and uninhibited response.
“Ahem.”
They broke away slowly. Ali gave Kitty an irritated frown. “You have lousy timing.”
“Sorry to interrupt, Ali.” Kurt said with a chuckle. “Have you seen Wolverine or Storm?”
“Ohhh, yeah I’ve seen Wolverine.”
Gambit swatted her ass. “Dat’s enough of dat, chere.” he teased.
Kitty looked confused. “Huh?”
“Not’in.” Gambit said. “Wolverine’s in da lounge and Stormy is comin’ dis way now.” Gambit looked over their shoulders towards the open entrance. “Mon Dieu,” he said as she approached. “Da Wolverine’s gonna ‘ave ‘is ‘ands full tonight.”
Ali grinned. “Yes, he will.”
She had taken Storm shopping that afternoon, while Gambit and Wolverine did whatever it is Gambit and Wolverine do when they’re together. Kitty and Kurt had tagged along, but ended up kissing and cuddling for a majority of the shopping excursion, drawing rolled eyes and groans from Ali and pleased smiles from Storm.
They had stopped for lunch, and chatted. Kitty had done most of the talking, chipper as ever, saying she was having the time of her life. The others had listened, nodding as she rambled. Ali had cast Storm knowing looks over the table during their meal, wiggling her pierced brows every chance she got and had delighted in Storm’s flush. She took it in stride though and as they left the little café Storm had asked, “Jealous?”
The afternoon was filled with touristy activities and shopping. They had stopped at a few shops that Ali had found interesting and that had borderline frightened Kitty. Eventually Ali convinced Storm to go with her to a tattoo parlor where Ali had gotten herself a tattoo of fanned out cards, with a prominent ace of spades on her lower back. Gambit hadn’t seen it yet and she wondered what his reaction would be. Once in the parlor she had asked Storm if she wanted a tattoo. Storm was reluctant, rubbing the back of her neck and Ali sensing that it was a touchy subject and had quickly changed topics. She instead suggested adding a piercing to which Storm had smiled with mischief and agreed.
Now as Storm walked towards them Ali could see the sparkle of Storm’s dangling jeweled belly button ring against the exposed skin of her toned midriff. Storm looked dangerous tonight, Ali thought with a smirk. Storm was dressed in a short, but flowing shredded black skirt that brushed her thighs as she walked, revealing plenty of gorgeous long leg as she moved. Her shoes were ones Ali had helped pick out, thin strapped black heels with criss-cross ties that ran up Storm’s claves to the underside of her knees. Her top was one she had already owned, but the two of them had modified it. A tight black off the shoulder shirt with long sleeves, a hole cut in the cuffs for her thumbs, then cut again with a blade under her well rounded breasts and then sliced with a razor, giving glimpses of flawless rounded skin. It was more revealing than Storm’s usual attire and at first she had hesitated, but Ali said, “What happens in Vegas,” and Storm had laughed. Ali had then applied the same razor to Storm’s hair, chopping off a good six inches, so instead of resting against the swell of her backside, it hung just below Storm’s shoulder blades. Ali then proceeded to cut the thick white mane in different places and at varying length, giving it a wild, untamed look. Storm had instantly loved it, running her fingers through the multiple layers, praising Ali as an artist.
Seeing her handy work fully packaged, Ali would have to agree with her.
“Hello everyone.” Storm greeted.
Gambit gave her a low whistle. “Good t’ing you be da Wolverine’s problem tonight, chere. I’m exhausted jus’ t’inkin ‘bout da trouble you’re going t’ be.”
“Har-Har, Gambit.” Storm said with a smile. She looked around. “Where is he anyway?”
“Right behind ya, darlin’.” Warm breath tickled her neck, strong hands clamping to her hips, pulling her back against a solid wall of muscle, moist lips brushed against the soft skin just behind her ear, making her shiver. She turned into him, inhaling the heady scent of cigars and alcohol, mixed with the masculine smell that belonged to him alone. Logan. She let herself fall back against him, completely trusting that he would be there to support her. She felt more than heard the low rumble in his chest and smiled anew.
“Ya look stunning’,” he said against her ear.
“How would you know, you’ve only seen me from behind,” she teased.
“It was enough.” He turned her, however, a slow smile of appreciation spreading across his face, and his eyes took on a possessive gleam.
Ali cleared her throat. “Okay then, if Wolverine’s done ogling Storm, what say we get this show on the road.”
“D’accord.”
“What he said.” Kitty chimed.
“You look nice, Sprite.” Wolverine commented to Kitty, who practically glowed under his praise.
“You think?” She turned, the hem of her cream colored skirt swirling as she did. “Thanks.”
“Yeah, yeah, we’re a bunch o’ beautiful muties. Let’s move.” Ali said herding them towards the lobby.
Storm gave her Ali a look over her shoulder. “Where are we going first?”
“Thought we’d stroll the strip, see what’s what.”
“Sounds good ta me, so long as we grab a brew.”
“Do you like anything more than beer?” Kitty questioned.
Wolverine’s smile was sinful. “There is one thing.”
“Lalalalalala!!” Kitty placed her hands over her ears.
Storm ran her hands down her skirt. “Who’s up for some dancing?”
Wolverine smirked. “You always want ta dance.”
“And you never do.” She retorted, but without anger, a smile on her face.
They left the hotel and made their way to the parked SUV they’d rented for the night. Once at the vehicle Ororo gave Wolverine a sly grin. “You want to drive?”
“Naw, darlin’. I’ll leave that in your very capable hands.”


Club Nova

“She’s good.” Wolverine commented, watching Ali on the stage, working the crowd. She was currently jumping up and down, her white tank top lifting to expose her stomach, one hand in the air, lights flashing, moving the small mob into a frenzy.
They had stopped into one of the many bars lining the strip and upon arrival Ali had been recognized and invited to sing with the house band. She had eagerly accepted.
“Ja. I can see why her band was called Dazzler. She’s amazing,” agreed Kurt.
“Dat she is,” Gambit agreed with warmth that didn’t go unnoticed by Wolverine.
Gambit took a swig of his beer before saying, “So I take it you and Stormy be a couple now? Cause she’d better not be some fuckin’ fling for you, homme.”
Wolverine leaned back, his eyes moving to the dance floor where Storm and Kitty were dancing. His gut clenched at the sight of her, just like it did every time he looked at her. Damn, would she always have such a startling impact to his senses? He thought she probably would. “We’re most definitely together.” Wolverine stated.
Ali sang for another half hour, her voice ranging between low and sultry to punk and hard. The crowd cheered and swayed as if hypnotized by her and her ‘lightshow’.
“Wow, I haven’t had a rush like that in awhile!” Ali said when she was done, planting herself in a chair beside Gambit. “That was fun!” She reached for his beer.
Wolverine tensed in his seat, sitting up straighter as he watched a dark haired, good looking man approach Kitty as she tried to leave the dance floor. He watched as the guy said something, then as Kitty shook her head no, turning away from the young man. The guy looked over his shoulder towards a table where a group of guys sat, catcalling and making lewd comments, egging their friend on. A low growl rumbled in Wolverine’s throat as the guy too dumb to take a hint grabbed Kitty’s arm.
Kurt was on his feet, but Ali grabbed his wrist. “Wait for it,” she said with a grin.
There was a loud thump as the dark haired man’s face hit the floor, Storm stood behind him, yanking his arms behind his back, her heel planted between his shoulder blades.
“Problem, darlin’?” Wolverine asked nonchalantly, stepping beside her.
“Not at all, love. Thanks for asking.” She gave him a quick kiss on the lips, digging her heel down. “This idiot was just about to apologize to Kitty for touching her.”
“Ugh..yeah, yeah…s-sorry.”
Storm released him. “Shoo.” The guy scrambled away from her, rushing back to his friends. Several of the larger guys stood up, chests puffed up. Wolverine grinned feral. They sat back down.
“C’mon, darlin’. I’ll buy ya a drink, and a soda fer Sprite.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, casually draping his hand against her hip.
“I’m not much of a drinker,” Storm said as they sat.
“Aww, come on, Storm. It’s our last night in Vegas,” Ali protested. “VEGAS for crying out loud! You have to live it up!” She grabbed a passing waitress. “Blow jobs all around,” she ordered.
“Kitty close yer mouth. They’re shots.”

Several drinks later

“Strip club?” Ali asked, pounding back her third shot of tequila.
Storm tilted a little to the side, slightly unsteady on her seat. “Why not?”
Wolverine shifted his weight against her, helping her stand, a wide grin on his face. ‘Ro was hammered.
“I think I’m gonna puke,” Kitty moaned, holding her stomach.
“You better not, pipsqueak,” Ali ordered. “There shall be no splatter art this evening. Or else.”
“Or else what, chere?”
“Or else it’s on…it’s on like Donkey Kong!” Ali slammed her fist into the table.
Gales of laughter from the three girls.
“Dey be ‘avin’ fun,” Gambit murmured dryly.
Kurt’s brow furrowed. “Did I miss something?” He asked, returning from the bathroom.
“Yeah,“ Wolverine nodded, lighting a cigar. “About twelve shots. Get lost in there?”
“Nein. I accidentally got the inducer wet washing my hands and had to wait for it to kick in again.”
“Riiiight.” Ali laughed. “Let’s go.”
This time Wolverine drove, with Storm in the passenger seat, the other’s in the back. She leaned over to him, nipping his ear. Wolverine’s teeth clenched. “Yer gonna cause an accident,” he warned.
“Do I distract you, Wolverine?” Storm slid one hand into his hair, twirling the dark locks around her fingers. Her other hand slid along his jean clad thigh.
“Yer playin’ with fire, doll,” he growled.
“No,” she said huskily. “I’m playing with you.”
He gave her a heated glance. “Same thing.”
“Mmmm.” Her lips fluttered over his neck, down to the black collar of his tee. “I’ll behave.” She sat back into her seat, but cast him a sultry look. “For now.”
Wolverine’s breath hissed out. Vixen. He felt his body throb, his knuckles white with the pressure he was exerting on the steering wheel. He suddenly turned the vehicle, making a sharp left.
“Easy, Wolverine. Kitty’s all set to hurl.” Ali warned. “Where the hell we going?”
“Spur of the moment change of plans.” Was all he said.
“What about the strippers?” Gambit asked, earning a pinch from Ali.
“They ain’t goin’ no where, Gumbo, relax.”

Forty-five minutes later

Storm circled his waist with smooth arms, her hands moving over him, slipping under his solid black tee shirt to explore his skin, pressing him back against the cool wall.
Wolverine’s hand bunched the hair behind her head in a tight fist, lowering his mouth to claim what was his. Ororo returned the kiss with equal hunger, moaning into his mouth. She pulled at his shirt, rending the seam, trying to tear it off him.
*Ding.
Finally! Wolverine lifted her, her long legs wrapping around his waist, his hands cupping her ass, moving her against him as they stumbled from the elevator, still kissing feverishly, tongues dueling.
“Hurry,” she rasped into his neck.
Wolverine fumbled for the hotel card key in his back pocket. Ororo leaned back slightly and gave a small wave of her hand, shocking the security box. There was a faint click and Logan kicked the door open, slamming it shut with the back of his boot. He turned, slamming her into the newly shut door, his hands sliding under her skirt. -SNIKT- Her sexy black panties fell away.
“Uuuhnnn, ‘Ro.” he groaned, her hands inflaming him. She was pushing at his jeans, her palm sliding down the front of him to cup his heavy fullness. The beast inside, already close to the surface broke free, taking her to the floor, ripping and slicing the clothes from her body as he did. One knee shoved hard between her legs, spreading her open, giving him access. He probed her with his fingers, making her ready for him, spreading her sweet juices along her walls. He pressed his throbbing cock against her damp center, watching her face with hooded eyes as he began rubbing the head up and down against her swollen flesh, making her sob with need. His dark eyes glittered feral in the shadows of their room. “Yer mine!” he vowed, surging forward, filling her completely. “Mine!” He wanted to roar his love for her, but as he was gripped by her fiery sheath he lost the ability to speak, so he told her with his body. He surged and thrust again and again, lifting her hips from the floor, grunting as she gasped and panted, biting her lip to hold back her screams.
Ororo writhed beneath his fierce onslaught, her body on fire, screaming for release. She clutched his shoulders, staring up at the face she loved so much. His features were set in harsh lines, contorted in pleasure. He bared his teeth at her, a damp tendrils of midnight falling across his forehead, making him seem younger. Ororo lifted her fingers to his face, tracing his jaw, up along his sideburns into his thick mane, tugging at him, pulling his mouth down to hers.
He took his time, kissing her slowly even as his hips bucked against hers furiously. The contrast was highly erotic and Ororo wanted to weep with pleasure. Goddess, but he knew how to please a woman! He buried himself in her over and over, hard and fast, then slow and tender.
With a ferocious growl he moved off of her, grasping her hips and flipping her, forcing her head towards the floor, and jerking her hips back onto his throbbing cock. God, he’d never get enough of her. Never. He ran his hands along the smooth perfection of her back, his nails raking slightly. Ororo bucked against him, tossing her head back, sending her hair raining over them in a silken cloud.
Her body was made for him, he thought. Hot. Tight. Strong. He felt unexpected moisture sting his eyes at her unconditional acceptance of him. She gave herself to him freely, without reservation, accepting him, accepting the dominance of his body taking hers. He thrust forward holding her to him, his hands cradling her hips. She raised herself up, leaning back, the back of her head resting on his shoulder, the long column of her throat exposed. Logan reached down between them, spreading her thighs over his so she was seated on him. “Trust me,” he rasped.
“Always,” she breathed.
With a low snarl he flicked his fingers against her clit, causing her to flinch, her inner walls gripping him in tight reflex. He groaned. “Fuck, ‘Ro. Yer so goddamn tight.” He moved his fingers again and she whimpered.
He removed his hand from her snowy patch only to grab her hands, interlacing his strong fingers with her slender ones, bringing them up to cup her full breasts. He growled his pleasure at that, then removed his hands, leaving only hers. “Yer incredible,” he panted returning one hand to her damp nether curls and the other reaching around her to cradle her throat in his palm, the very tips of his fingers brushing her jaw. Ororo turned her face into his neck, an act of complete submission.
Working his fingers against her he began to move. Ororo moaned his name, squeezing her breasts, rubbing her thumbs over her nipples. Wolverine grunted in approval, his erection swelling even more.
As the pressure began to build Ororo lifted herself and settled on him, riding each thrust. Logan was completely lost, his fingers tightening on her throat as he bared his teeth, sinking his long canines into her tender skin, joining them completely, his hips bucking violently, his grunts savage.
“I can’t get enough,” he swore, lifting her and walking, still joined to the bed. He flung her across the mattress, crawling up her body. Ororo pressed her face into the bedding to muffle her screams as she felt his mouth on her from behind. He was growling against her inner walls, incoherent in his hunger, devouring her, lapping her sweet essence, savoring the flavor on his tongue. He ran his fingers against her saturated skin, wet from him and her.
She felt his finger probing between her cheeks and she did scream when he pushed in through her tight anus, moving his finger in time with his tongue. She came against his mouth, crying, clutching the sheets in her fingers. Still he didn’t stop, relishing her bodies ripples, leaning back to watch her. As the tremors began to subside he returned to the task and Ororo thought she died. “Logan!” She was frantic, a wild thing screaming and writhing.
With an animal roar he flipped her once again, slamming into her, lifting her legs over his shoulders. She was exquisite, panting and crying out for him. For only him. His. Only his. He covered her mouth in a deep kiss, his tongue demanding entrance, filling her with her own pungent sweetness.
She clutched at him, her nails digging into his shoulders, her small cries of satisfaction muffled against his lips. He held her tightly, feeling the white hot pleasure approaching. Her body was clinging to his, her sweat dampened skin pressed as close as humanly possible to his and still he wanted more. Fuck, she was going to kill him. Who cares, Bub. You’ll die a happy man.
He roared as his orgasm exploding with blinding force, his hips rocking against hers. He moved her legs, wrapping them around his waist, holding her to him, lifting her head, cradling her to his chest as he came and came and came. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck…” He tightened his hold, bruising her with his strength but she didn’t care. She held him, her body still rippling from her own multiple orgasms.
Slowly Logan released her, pushing her sweat dampened hair from her face, brushing her lips with butterfly kisses. Hot tears coursed down her face and he kissed them away, flicking the salty diamonds away with his tongue. “Shhshh, darlin’. Don’t cry.” She cried harder.
Logan stroked her face, nuzzled her neck, murmured meaningless sounds. When still she cried he began to hum in her ear, his deep bass soothing. Soon the words of a children’s lullaby were being sung in his deep growl and it was comforting.
Ororo pressed her face to his chest, hugging him tight. She loved him, so very much. Only Logan. Her Logan. Her miracle. He had done something she had hoped no one ever to do, but now was eternally grateful for. He had given her a reason to live.
As the last words of the lullaby were rasped in her ear Ororo whispered, “I love you.”
Logan smiled with a tenderness he had never shown anyone before. He glanced at their linked hands, his molten gaze resting on the matching gold bands. “I love ya, wife.”
Their mouths met in a kiss that touched souls, their hearts beating as one in a rhythm as old as time. They were one.

Xavier Institute
Westchester, New York


Logan stroked the tips of his fingers along Ororo’s bare arm. She made a small sound of contentment in her sleep, snuggling closer to him. He kissed the top of her head softly before returning his stare to the ceiling with a heavy sigh. They’d been home for less than two full days and already he wanted to leave again, to take her away from this place.
Xavier, Jean and Scooter had met them in the hanger upon arrival, and Xavier’s somber eyes had immediately noticed the rings around his and Storm’s fingers. “I see it was an…eventful trip,” he had said dryly.
“It had it’s moments,” Wolverine had responded swinging Storm up into his arms.
“What’s the matter with Storm? Is she injured?” Scott had asked taking a step forward down the metal ramp.
“No. Wolverine just likes to carry his wife around,” Ali had said nonchalantly. She and the others had been witnesses, very drunk witnesses, but witnesses none the less to the small ceremony between Wolverine and Storm at The Little White Chapel. Gambit had protested mildly, only until Storm had asked him to give her away, which he then did with flourish. Two hundred bucks and fifteen minutes after their entrance to the chapel the two of them had left married and the four remaining X-Men Black members had taken a cab back to the strip while he and Storm had celebrated their vows.
“His what?!?” Jean had exclaimed, her voice about three octaves higher than necessary, eyes practically rolling down the ramp.
Wolverine smirked now, thinking of Ali’s response to Jean.
“Is there something about the phrase ‘his wife’ that’s giving you trouble, princess? Cuz I can dumb it down if you need me to.” Ali had drawled.
Jean had stood sputtering for a full ten seconds after that and Wolverine made a mental note that he owed Ali one. He liked the kid, she had spunk.
Now, laying in ‘Ro’s bed, the morning light slowly creeping over the horizon, a reminder that he couldn’t stop time, his thoughts kept drifting to the one fateful conversation he and ’Ro had in Vegas over breakfast, the day she had revealed why she had come to the Institute. Something had been set into motion that day, and he wasn’t sure what, but he felt it all the way to his adamantium laced bones.
Though she had told him what he had wanted to know, he knew she was still holding back. Unconsciously he tightened his arms around her. He was still having a hard time to wrap his mind around everything she had told him and for days he’d chosen to ignore the fact that she was counting on him to kill her if push came to shove and that Farouk fucker got a hold of her. Never. He closed his eyes, trying to get rid of the pain that thought caused. Never, ‘Ro.
Ororo stirred against him, her breathing becoming shallow. Outside the wind picked up, and a low rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance. She was having a dream, good or bad he didn’t know, but held her close, whispering comforting words in her ear regardless.
He was normally a very observant man, and it surprised him that he hadn’t noticed the connection between her moods and the weather. Granted he doubted anyone else had either, but now that he knew, he saw it and felt it all the time. A smile would often mean a gentle breeze, a laugh was sometimes the stirring of air and the scent of summer on the wind, a frown could be a brief chill, but it was when they made love that he was in awe of her. The thunder boomed, lightening flashed, winds howled and rain fell. He got the impression that even then, she kept herself under careful control and he wondered what it would take to make her lose herself completely, and even as he wondered it, he thought how dangerous that could be.
“Logan…” she was mumbling in her sleep.
“Here, baby.” he murmured, rubbing her bare back.
She stirred again, her sleep fitful. “The… hounds…” Lightning flashed.
“Shh. It’s all right, I’m here,” he whispered against the sworls of her ear. Ororo relaxed, her mouth parting, her warm breath stirring his chest hairs. “I won’t let anything happen ta ya, darlin‘.”
Despite his whispered reassurance he watched her hand travel instinctively under her pillow, even in sleep, clutching the dagger hidden there. He shook his head, closing his eyes, inhaling against her soft tresses, breathing in her unique scent . “What the fuck happened ta ya, baby?”

Back lawn
Mid-morning


“Welcome back from your vacation,” Cyclops said a bit sarcastically, pacing in front of the six members of X-Men Back, hands behind his back, jaw jutted forward in his best leader pose. “Today we’re running a joint training exercise.” He showed them the round orb he was carrying. “This is a live bomb. The object of today’s training will be to safely remove the bomb from the civilian occupied area, i.e. the field, and keep the other team from achieving the same objective. Those two posts are your goals, the two at that end are ours.” Cyclops pointed to opposite ends of the field where his team stood waiting. “The rules are simple. You can use your powers, you can make physical contact if necessary. Once the bomb is removed from it’s cradle and put into play we have five minutes to clear it before ka-boom. Let’s try to keep everyone alive today. Clear?”
Storm didn’t miss the subtle dig. She gave a nod. “Perfectly.”
He motioned his team forward. “Let’s go.” The bomb was settled into a white holder halfway between the two teams. They moved to opposite ends of the field.
“What’s the plan, boss?” Wolverine asked, rotating his shoulders under the tight spandex of his uniform his dark eyes glittering with anticipation.
Storm studied their opponents for a moment well she tied her wild hair back with a black elastic. “Cyclops is going to be gunning for Wolverine,” she said thoughtfully. “And if they have half a brain they’ll be wondering if we’re going to have the fuzzy elf bamf his way to the bomb and out again, which means Jean’ll probably try to lock onto you Kurt. Warren’s not much of an issue,” she added seeing how he hung back away from the others a bit in the Red team’s huddle. “I have a feeling Beast will be sent for retrieval. So that leaves Colossus and Iceman as their offense.”
“You sound pretty sure,” Kitty said.
“Well, given that that’s a real bomb, I’d want my resident genius on top of it, not to mention Hank can move like nobody’s business.” Storm said with a measure of pride towards her furry colleague.
“Okay..” Ali’s lips were moving but Storm couldn’t make out the words, a monotonous humming filling her ears, and her vision wavered. She blinked several times to clear her head.
“Stormy?”
“Huh?”
“Ali asked you a question, chere.” Gambit was leaning against his long bo.
Storm rubbed her temples. “Sorry.”
“You all right, Storm?” Wolverine stepped to her, peering into her eyes.
She looked away. “Yeah, just thinking.”
She was lying. He could see it and he could smell it. “If yer not feeling-”
“I feel fine.“ She had taken on her leader voice and Wolverine stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest, the set of his mouth grim. “What was your question, Ali?“
“Do we play nice?”
Storm glanced over at the Red team, and Cyclops parading around in front of them, his chest puffed out, his head tilted in a supremely arrogant manner. He was a good leader, Storm knew, but he was far too cocky today for her liking. “Let’s hand Cyclops his arrogant ass.”
Wolverine grinned.
“Gambit and Ali, take down Colossus, I got Iceman and Warren covered. Wolverine make your way through and get me that bomb. Kurt, give Jean a run for her money, bamf as much as you can before she grabs your mind. Kitty, when Jean has Kurt, get to her and take her down.”
Kitty was surprised but pleased by the faith Storm had in her to get to Jean. “Will do.”
“What about Beast?” Kurt asked.
“Wolverine will just have to get the bomb first and handle both Cyclops and Beast. No problem right?” One corner of her mouth was turned up in a confident smile.
-SNIKT- “No problem.”
One of the junior students seated on the sidelines launched a flare, signaling the start of the match.
X-Men Black took immediate action. Kurt bamfed towards the center of the field, then again and again, making it look like he was making his way to the bomb. Storm immediately took to the air, sending a strong current against the oncoming X-Men, making it hard for Warren to maintain flight. She glanced down at her team, watching as Wolverine dodged countless blasts from Cyclops, maneuvering his way towards the blinking orb, Ali and Gambit were trying to hold off Colossus and holding up fairly well, but the big Russian was closing in on them.
“Ok, Heavy Metal, try this on for size!” Ali shouted, launching into a rousing rendition of ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, feeding her mutant power with her voice, blasting multicolored beams of light against Peter’s steel skin.
Colossus charged, forcing Ali back, but his momentum was halted by a low whistle and the explosion of three glowing cards in the ground directly in front of him.
“Careful, Gambit, don’t get too close to the bomb with those,” Storm warned. Suddenly a large ice fist closed around her and Iceman stood on the ground below cheering himself.
“Oh yeah. Who da man? You da man! Oy-oy~!” His free hand pumped up and down.
Storm rolled her eyes, trying not to laugh at his antics. She summoned a low voltage bolt, separating her from Bobby, causing him to shout “Ow!” She crashed to the ground, shattering the ice encasing her, and soared into the air again, summoning a swirling vortex to close around Iceman, and she also sent a cloud of pouring rain directly over Warren’s head, soaking him and his wings.
“Aw, C’mon, Storm!” Bobby called being lifted. “Not the pool this time!”
Splash!
He came up spluttering.
“Storm heads!” Kurt called.
Storm glanced up to see Warren leaping up at her, flapping his soggy wings. He reached for her ankle, trying to pull her down to the ground, but Storm quickly increased the wind holding her aloft, keeping Warren up in the air with her.
“Hi, Angel.” She returned her gaze to the field, checking on her team. Kurt was on his knees, holding his head. Kitty was close to Jean and Storm watched with no small amount of pride as Kitty phazed her hand into Jean’s back, saying, “Let him go, or I crush your little heart.”
“Jean’s out.” Ali called. A low powered optic blast caught her in the head.
“You are too, Alison. Your brains are splattered all over the ground. Bye-bye.”
“Shit!” Ali sat on the ground, one hand on her chin, elbow on her fatigue covered knee.
“Kurt’s done too,” Warren said floating beside Storm. “Jean has ‘shredded’ his mind.”
Storm inclined her head giving Warren an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Angel.”
Warren nodded. “I understand, Storm.” She let him drop, pushing him down with a gust of wind. Warren crashed into the ground, dust flying. “Out!” Ali hollered.
Cyclops joined Colossus and tried to hit Gambit with an optic shot, but the agile Cajun avoided it, back flipping away from them. He swung his staff, but Colossus caught it, pulling it from his hands. “Merde.” Gambit flung two cards.
Wolverine crouched low, his hand snatching the black orb from it’s cradle, moving with preternatural swiftness towards their goal just before Gambit’s cards detonated, blocking Colossus from Wolverine.
“Good morning, Wolverine. Fancy meeting you here.” Beast loped beside him, his furry face parted in a wide grin, revealing thick, sharp teeth.
“Blue boy.” Wolverine greeted. He then shifted all his weight to one leg, rotating on the ball of his foot, coming around Beast and tackling him from behind. -SNIKT- Three long claws buried themselves in the ground beside Hank’s face. “Yer out.” He looked up, catching Storm’s eye. “Hey, baby.” He grinned at her, teeth gleaming. He then shoved himself off Beast, running towards the goal posts. Storm caught sight of Cyclops Moving parallel to Wolverine, aiming. She sent a gust of wind towards her husband, forcing him aside. “Thanks, darlin.’”
Wolverine was almost to goal when a telekinetic pulse plowed him into the ground.
“Hey!” Kitty exclaimed. “You’re out!”
Jean elbowed her in the nose, causing Kitty to shriek.
Storm dropped from the sky marching towards the redhead. “That was uncalled for.”
“Hey, it’s war!” Jean exclaimed with a smirk.
Storm’s eyes clouded white. “It is now.”
“Wait, Storm!” Cyclops was racing towards her, sensing an impending fight. A muscular straight arm caught him across the chest, flipping him onto his back.
“Leave it, Scooter.” Wolverine stood over him, arms crossed.
“Up yours, Wolverine. You weren’t here last time. Storm damn near killed her.”
“Good thing it was her then and not me. I would’ve.” He strolled away, tossing the still blinking black orb at Cyclops. “Ya got ten seconds before boom, buddy. I suggest ya disarm.”
Cyclops pushed the cancel button, following Wolverine towards the two women now facing off.
“We’re supposed to be on the same team,” Storm said. “All of us are X-men. There’s no need for such animosity between us.”
“Fuck you.” Jean said.
“Alrighty then,” Ali rolled her eyes. “Look, just cuz you’re all pissy Storm got your man doesn’t mean you have to be a bitch twenty-four seven.”
Kitty coughed behind her hand covering a giggle. Jean glared at her. “Mind your business. I don’t care what some trailer park reject thinks of me.”
Ali’s eyes narrowed.
Storm placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder, focusing on the redhead across from her. “Jean, I warned you once about how you could talk to my friends.”
Ali chuckled. “I say you give her another bitch-slap and refresh her memory.”
Jean took an involuntary step backwards. “Touch me and I swear you’ll regret it.”
There was a distinct challenge in the air. “Really?”
Jean glanced at Cyclops and Wolverine, who were quickly approaching. *He only married you because he felt betrayed by me. You’re just a way for him to try and get back at me.*
The air stilled, temperature dropping rapidly. “I don’t think so.”
*Hit a nerve? A little insecure, Storm?* Jean gave her a knowing look.
“No.”
*Mmm. He sure fucks good don’t he? All growling and sweaty. Does he eat you out for hours too, or was that just me?*
KRAKA-BOOM!
“Duck.” Ali said as Wolverine stepped beside her. “The shit is about to hit the fan.”
Wolverine ignored her, stepping beside Storm. He glared at Jean, wrapping one arm around Storm‘s waist. “Whatever she’s saying to ya, baby, don’t listen.”
*He would fuck me until I begged him to stop.* Jean continued mercilessly. *And then he’d fuck me some more.*
The clouds began to roll together, darkening.
“Uh, Jean, whatever you’re doing, knock it off.” Warren said, staring up at the sky with genuine trepidation.
Thunder rolled, clapping with enough force to shake the ground. Storm’s eyes were glowing faintly. Wolverine caught the faint scent of ozone hovering in the air.
He touched her cheek, turning her face to his, catching sight of the faint shimmer of unshed tears. He buried his fingers in her hair, pulling her face to his for a long, slow kiss. He moved his mouth against hers leisurely, uncaring of the crowd around them, only wanting to ease her pain. He parted her lips, pulling her fully against him, holding her tight. “I love ya, wife.” he said in a low growl, loud enough for those closest to hear.
“Awww,” Kitty sighed happily.
“Get a room,” Jean grouched storming away.
“Not a bad idea,” Wolverine said into Storm’s hair.
Storm shook her head. “I have a meeting with Charles. I’ll catch up with you all later.” She brushed her mouth over his again. “Thank you”


Xavier’s Office

Storm sat across from the mahogany desk, her hands clasped together. “…and you have a problem with it?”
Xavier sighed. They were discussing her and Wolverine’s marriage. “It is just very unexpected.”
Storm nodded. “Yes, it was, but it’s done.”
“Storm, he has a tendency to disappear for months on end. How will you handle that?”
“I’ll manage.” She leaned back, crossing her legs. “What’s the real issue here, Charles?”
Xavier looked at her point blank. “He’s dangerous.”
“So am I.” Storm shrugged. “As long as Wolverine’s here, so am I,” Storm stated, catching Xavier’s attention. “He believes in your dream and is willing to fight for it. I’m willing to fight for him.” The warning didn’t go unnoticed by Charles.
Charles raised his brows. “Very well.” He nodded. “Now, what was it you wished to speak with me about.”
Storm drew in a deep breath. “The dreams have started again.”
Xavier dropped the pen in his hand. “How long?”
“Since that day the inhibitors burnt out.” She smiled a bit ruefully. “Looks like they aren’t going to be enough anymore.”
“I see.”
“So…” she closed her eyes. “Call Forge, have him make the preparations.”
A pained look crossed Xavier’s face. “Storm…”
She opened her eyes, giving him a direct stare. “We knew this day might come.”
Rolling from the desk to her chair, Charles took her hand in his. “Yes. We did.” He squeezed her fingers.


Second Floor Hallway


Jean closed the door quietly behind her, walking into the dim bedroom. She made her way towards the bed against the far wall, pulling her shirt over her head as she did, discarding her bra. She was unbuttoning her green pants when a voice startled her.
“Jean.”
Jean gasped, whirling around, peering into the dark corner. “Wolverine?”
He stepped from the shadows, broad chest and shoulders shifting as he stalked towards her, making her breath catch in her throat. How a man could make a black sleeveless tank so goddamn sexy was beyond her, but he did it. He made her quake with want just by looking at her.
He stalked her until her back was pressed to the wall. He kept coming until his well muscled chest rubbed against her rapidly rising and falling breasts. He placed one hand beside her head, the other catching her chin.
“Wo-Wolverine.” Jean trembled beneath his fingers.
“Been a long time, Jeannie.“ He leaned his head in, sniffing, his breath brushing her lips as he spoke. “What’s that I smell, Red”
Jean groaned, knowing he was scenting her rising desire. “You know,” she whispered.
“Hnh.” He ran the hand holding her chin down her neck, along her collar bone, cupping her breast, squeezing, his thumb teasing her nipple. “You like that?”
Jean was panting now. “Uhhn, yes.” She lifted her hips off the wall, rubbing his thigh, riding his leg.
“Ya come up her fer old time’s sake?”
“I know you still want me,” she whispered. “You’ll always want me.”
“Jean…” He was so close now, she could almost feel his lips on hers.
“Yes…?”
-SNIKT- Two long claws shot into the wood on either side of her neck, the third extending very slowly until it pricked her pale skin, a thin line of crimson flowing. “You ever go near my WIFE again and I’ll gut ya, ya fuckin’ whore.” His voice was a savage snarl, causing her shivers of desire to quickly chill into fear. His eyes glinted steel at her. “I was gonna let ya slide, let yer lies and deceit go. I was willin’ ta just put it all behind me and move ahead. But ya had ta go and step across a line that I ain’t gonna let no one cross.“ He growled. “No one.! Now I want ya ta get the fuck out of my room before I change my mind and slit ya open now.”
Jean’s lip quavered. “Why’d you marry her?” She asked before she could stop herself. “Why wasn’t I enough?” Jean asked beseechingly.
Wolverine bared his teeth. “Ya want it spelled out? Fine. I married Storm because I love her. Because I ache fer her in ways that defy description, because every wakin’ minute away from her is like slow torture. She is my other half. That’s why I married her!” He shoved himself away from Jean, giving her a disgusted look. “You make me sick,” he stated flatly.
Hearing words of love come from a man she had been certain possessed no heart and was incapable of love made Jean’s stomach plummet. Reality was sinking in and she hated it. He didn’t want her, he wanted Storm. Only Storm. He raised his claws. Jean gasped, crossing her arms over her bare chest, racing for the door.

Attic Loft

“Give me one reason not to barbeque you right now.” Storm said, her voice dangerously soft as Wolverine finished recapping the events that happened earlier in his bedroom. He had finished packing his belongings after Jean had left and now they were packing up the loft. Deciding they needed to be away from the prying eyes of the Institute, they were moving down to one of the larger boathouses.
Wolverine grinned at her. “Ya love me.”
“Hm. There is that I suppose. However, I suggest you drop to your knees and kiss my feet right now.”
He chuckled. “If ya insist.”
Storm’s mouth twitched. “You will?”
He sauntered towards her, his arrogant swagger warming her heart. He pulled her into his arms, nuzzling her neck. “You bet. Then I‘ll kiss yer ankles,…” a kiss on her throat, “and calves,” another, “ and yer gorgeous thighs,” the rough velvet of his tongue. “Then I’ll make ya scream my name,” he whispered huskily.
Storm sighed, content.
Wolverine pulled back slightly. “Yer the only woman fer me, Ororo, never doubt that. Now and forever.”
“And you are the only man for me.”
“Mmhm.” He agreed, nibbling her ear. “I want ya, darlin’.” He was unzipping her uniform top. “I need ya,” he groaned, pushing his hands inside the stretchy material, cupping her.
Storm moved against him in sinuous motions, making him growl in pleasure. “I am yours,” she whispered.
They never made it to the bed, consumed as they were, falling to the floor where Logan proceeded to make good on his words.

Xavier Institute
Westchester, New York
Rec Room/ Early Evening

Several students glanced uneasily towards the pool table in the corner of the room, where Storm and Wolverine were engaged in a game of eight ball. In the two years the fierce warrior had been a member of the X-Men he had never ‘hung out’ in the rec room, hell, more often than not he wasn’t even on the mansions grounds, but here he was, drinking a beer watching his girl bend over the table to take her shot, an appreciative gleam in his hunter eyes.
He glanced up sensing stares and several eyes glanced guiltily away. He merely smirked. No feral growl, nor baring of teeth tonight. Marriage to ‘Ro was like a good cigar, relaxing and invigorating, keeping him content. He glanced at the ring on her finger and felt his chest tighten. He was still amazed she had said yes. He had expected her to say no, to balk about them only knowing each other for a short time, only really together for a week, or hell, to tell him to go twiddle on his thumb, but she hadn’t, instead she had laughed her beautiful, sultry laugh, asking, “Are you serious?” To which her had planted a thorough kiss on her delectable mouth and growled, “Very.”
“It’s your shot, hon.” She was leaning against the table, one arm extended holding her stick at an angle against the floor. She was clad in low rise faded blue jeans and a lace toped pink camisole, and a cowboy hat, which he found unbearably desirable. Her new thin gold bracelet glittered under the hanging lights as she took a sip of her water. He had bought it for her today, along with the dangly lightening bolt belly button ring he saw peeking from beneath her shirt. He’d had the bracelet inscribed: For my beautiful Windrider, my loving wife and my best friend.
Ororo had been elated, her smile brighter than the sun. She had laughed then, pulling out a box from their closet, handing it to him. Inside was a very expensive and well made cream colored cowboy hat with a strip of black leather around the middle. He had been touched. In all the time that he could remember no one had ever gotten him a gift before. He had put it on immediately.
Ororo had smiled broadly, remarking how sexy he looked in her smoky bedroom voice. The hat had come off, along with all of their clothes as he made love to her on the couch in their new living room. He had called it christening the furniture, which had made her laugh, both of them looking around the boathouse at all the chairs and counter space they had.
He moved to the opposite side of the table, pushing the brim of his hat up, sinking two solids in succession. He winked at her as he pocketed the third. She smiled trailing her fingers on the green felt. She tilted her head, and he was captivated by her blue gaze under the shadow of his old cowboy hat. Vixen. “Darlin’, ya keep givin’ me those looks and I may have ta make proper use of this pool table.”
No matter that he’d seen her naked countless times already and had kissed and licked every inch of her delectable body Ororo still flushed, a fact that Logan found endearing.
“Storm!” Kitty and Kurt entered the rec room.
“Hello, Kitten,” Ororo greeted. “Kurt. What are you two up to tonight?”
“Not much.” Kitty answered. “Thought about maybe a movie. Wanna join us?”
Ororo looked at Logan, who simply shrugged one shoulder, swigging off his beer, as if to say it was up to her. “What movie?”
“It’s a toss up. Kurt has never seen any ‘Star Wars’, but I have a hankering for a good scary flick, Something to make me jump.”
-SNIKT-
“Ah!”
Wolverine rolled his eyes. “That’s done.”
“Very funny, Wolverine.” Kitty griped. She swatted his arm. “But, yeah if you want to join us, we’ll be in the screening room.”
“Not tonight.“ Storm handed Kurt her stick. “Tell you what, Crawler, take my husband to the cleaners and then we’ll make a reign check to go watch a movie with you.”
“To the cleaners?” Kurt asked, blue brow drawn, unfamiliar with the expression. “I’m sorry, sometimes my American is not so good.”
Ororo nodded with a wry grin. “Don’t worry, Kurt. American is a very difficult language occasionally mixed with English; it takes awhile.”
“Oh.”
“She wants us ta play,” Wolverine supplied.
Ten minutes later Wolverine was muttering about what a great shark the elf would be. Ororo laughed, taking his hand. “Let’s go for a walk,” she suggested.
“Sounds good, darlin’.”
The night air was humid and warm, an impending thunderstorm looming. Ororo inhaled deeply, savoring it. Logan leaned down, kissing her bare shoulder, interlacing their fingers. They walked in mutual silence towards the woods, both listening to the night sounds. They had only gone a few feet into the brush when Logan pulled her to a stop, moving to stand directly behind her, pointing to a rusty fox and her kits. Ororo smiled at him over her shoulder. They spent the next hour walking and listening, with Logan pointing out different animals in the night. Nocturnes like them.
When they reached a familiar clearing Logan sat onto the fallen log, pulling Ororo onto his lap, holding her against him. She went easily, laying her head on his chest, watching the stars twinkle above through the breaks in the clouds. She sighed heavily, feeling tired.
“Whatchya thinking, babe?”
“I’m not,” she yawned. “I’m just relaxing.”
Logan smiled into her hair, rubbing one hand up and down her back soothingly. She was soon sound asleep, her deep breathing stirring his protectiveness. He lifted her against his chest, carrying her through the woods, careful not to jar her, walking the two miles back to their boathouse with her cradled in his arms.
Once at their home he climbed the stairs to their bedroom and laid her on the bed, stripping her jeans from her body, pulling her camisole over her head. She barely stirred, lost in whatever dreams she was having. He tucked her in, kissing her lightly on the forehead.
Logan made his way back down stairs, removing his dark shirt, leaving his chest bare for the night air to caress as he stepped onto the porch, lighting a cigar. ‘Ro never complained, but he didn’t smoke in the house. He puffed into the stillness, his mind wandering over the past couple of days. Jean had thankfully gotten the hint and avoided him, and more importantly avoided ‘Ro. He had gone nearly feral when Storm had finally told him the things Jean had been putting in her mind. He had been enraged and he had hurt for his wife, knowing he wouldn’t have been able to picture her with someone else, much less live it and have it thrown in his face. Just the thought of anyone else touching ’Ro made his stomach turn. Fuckin’ Jean. Vindictive bitch. He ground his teeth, gnashing his cigar.
He stood outdoors for several minutes, enjoying the stillness of the night and the quiet of the boathouse. No pounding music from the dorm rooms, no pattering feet in the hallway. It was a nice feeling. The thunderstorm in the distance was fast approaching and Logan crushed his cigar under his boot, going back in through the screen door. He went around the house, making sure the windows were closed, securing the latches. Once that was done he tied up the trash, taking it outside to the small dumpster.
Two figures were approaching. “Evenin‘, homme.”
“Gambit. Alison.”
“Howdy, Wolverine.” Ali said. “Where’s Storm?”
Wolverine looked back at the upstairs bedroom window. “Sleeping.”
Gambit raised one eyebrow. “Already? Dat not like Stormy. Is she sick?”
Logan shook his head. “Not that I can tell. Just tired.”
“Oh. We were going to see if you two wanted to go out to Harry’s for a bit.” Ali said. “You wanna?”
“’Ow ’bout it, homme.”
Again Wolverine looked back at the window. He was nowhere near tired yet, and he knew ‘Ro wouldn’t mind. “Sure, Gumbo. Let me go leave a note fer Storm in case she wakes up.”
Gambit nodded. “Let ‘er know it’ll be a late night,” he suggested with his devil may care grin. “And put a shirt on.”

Boat House
Upstairs bedroom
Midnight

Ororo knew she was dreaming, knew she was asleep, but couldn’t wake up. She was deep in the woods, lost and alone, and surprisingly cold. Her teeth chattered, her hands were rubbing her arms frantically, trying to work some frictioned heat into her icy flesh. The snow whipped around her and she cried out in pain.
“It’s only a dream, Storm. Wake up.” She squeezed her eyes shut and when she opened them the world was gray, colorless and blurry.
Suddenly the colorless ground gave way beneath her and she was freefalling through empty space. She waved her arms wildly, trying to grab anything that may be hidden in the shadows. She landed with a hard jolt, dust and sand flying around her face. “What now,” she grumbled.
She looked up from the dirt, staring open mouthed at the market surrounding her. She was home, in Cairo. Carts an people milled around, children ran barefoot through the streets. A wild dog sniffed at her face and she shooed it away. Ororo rose to her feet, feeling the warm rays of the African sun on her face, smelling the slight sickly sweet smell of rotted fruit. It all felt very real.
From behind she heard warm tinkling laugher and she stopped breathing. Slowly as to not shatter the images around her, Ororo turned. Her mother stood a few feet away, speaking with a local merchant, haggling over some fruit.
“Mama?”
The figure of her mother looked over at her. “Ororo?”
“Mama.” Ororo reached out her hand.
Her mother recoiled. “Murderer! Murderer!” She was backing away from Ororo.
“Wait, Don’t go!” Storm stepped towards her retreating mother. “Please.”
“Evil child!” The smooth cocoa of her mother’s face turned ashen, a wound appearing over her right eye, then another along her supple cheek. The wounds she had received the day Ororo’s nightmare had tumbled their house around their heads.
“Mama, no. I didn’t mean to…” Ororo was trying to move, but the sand below her was sifting, dragging her down, sucking at her legs, pulling at her. “Mama, forgive me!” Ororo was frantic now, trying to reach her mother, who had dropped to the ground, her vivid blue eyes glazing in death. Ororo screamed, and the more she struggled the further down it pulled her. The last thing she heard before her head was fully engulfed in the small granules was her mother’s voice in her head, “Killer, murderer, destroyer. Accept your master, Ororo, only he can save you from yourself.”
Ororo was panicking, unable to scream anymore or she’d have her throat flooded with dry sand. Darkness was all around and soon low male laughter echoed around her, surrounding her. “There you are, my beautiful child. There you are at last.”
“Nooooo!”

Downstairs

Wolverine was just sliding the key in the front door when he felt the wind shift, the temperature dropping and the splattering rain turning into hail.
Above him he heard a soft thump and he froze. “’Ro?”
No response. Then the awful, familiar smell of blood.
“Fuck.” He shoved open the door and took the stairs two at a time. He plowed open the bedroom door and his heart stopped. Ororo was on the floor, her back pressed to the mattress, a bloody blade in her hand, crimson coating her fingers, repeating the same thing over and over, “Dontlethinindontlethimindontlethimin.”
“’Ro!”
She snapped her head up. “Logan?” She blinked a few times.
He knelt in front of her, taking her dagger from her fingers. “What happened?” she asked him.
“I was gonna ask ya the same thing.” He turned her hands over, wincing at the sight of a deep gash on her right palm. “C’mon, darlin’, we gotta clean that.” He scooped her into his arms.
“I can walk,” she protested. Logan made no response, making his way to the stairs.
“Logan, I can walk,” she repeated.
“I don’t care.” He carried her into their small bathroom, flicking on the overhead lights, setting her on the edge of the tub. He opened the medicine cabinet, rummaging through gauze and alcohol.
Ororo heaved a disgruntled sigh. “I had a bad dream. It happens.”
“Yeah and ya reached fer that goddamn dagger and nearly cut yer hand off. That’s it, that thing comes out from under the pillows.” He was firm. He took her hand, gently holding it over the tub as he poured warm water over it. Ororo hissed a bit but made no other complaint. Logan turned her hand, examining the wound. “It’s deep,” he said with a rumble. “Probably need stitches.”
Storm shook her head. “It’s fine. Just slap a band aid on it and call it good.”
Logan gave her a frustrated glance. “We’re at least wrapping the damn thing.” He carefully applied a thin cotton pad to the center of her hand, wrapping gauze around her palm and thumb. When he was done he asked, “Do ya need anything fer pain?”
“No.” Ororo stood. “I could use a glass of water though.”
Logan grunted. “I’ll be right back. Yer gorgeous ass had better be in bed when I come up.”
“Yes, sir,” Ororo muttered with a brief smile. He swatted her rear as she walked past him.
In the kitchen Logan ran the water until it was ice cold. He was taking deep, measured breaths, trying unsuccessfully to calm down. Seeing ‘Ro covered in blood, knife in her hand had jarred him, shaken him to his very core. He knew he loved her, but that moment of frozen panic, something he had never felt before, made him realize how very much he loved her.
Storm was seated in bed, propped against the pillows when he returned. She smiled at him when he placed the water in her left hand. “Thanks, sweetie.” She took a long drink, setting the glass on the nightstand.
He couldn’t help but smile in return. He loved when she used endearments with him. He undressed and slid into the bed beside her, not missing the slight darkening of her eyes as she watched him. He reached around her shoulders pulling her close, into their familiar seating of her against his chest and his chin on her head. “Wanna talk about it?”
A deep shuddering sigh. “No.” She turned in his arms, her lips grazing his whiskered chin, his collar bone. “I want to forget it, Logan. Help me forget…” Her tongue flicked against him, teasing one flat nipple.
He inhaled sharply, his body immediately responding to her, rock hard in an instant. He tangled his hands in her hair, trying to maintain focus. “’Ro, we can’t just ignore yer dreams. They’re happening- ugh- far too- oh God, baby- frequently.”
Ororo murmured something incoherent against his chest, her mouth still playing with his nipples as her deft fingers locked around his turgid erection, stroking him. Ororo swung one leg over his muscular thighs, straddling him. Logan reached up, cradling her elegant jaw, pulling her mouth to his. She was in his arms, where she belonged but he wanted her to talk to him, to open up. To trust.
He had spent a majority of the night speaking with Gambit, learning as much about Ororo’s past as he could. What he had learned made him value her faith in him all the more. Taken in by the LaBeau’s at eight she was already an accomplished pickpocket, Gambit had told him. She was then taught the thieves trade, and had learned quick, breaking and entering, mastering carjacking. Gambit told him she had been withdrawn for a long time upon arriving to them, but soon she and he had developed a bond. Gambit referred to her as a little girl with an ancient soul, and Wolverine could see that was still true today. He had asked the Cajun more questions but Gambit had shaken his head, saying some things were up to Stormy to tell and others he didn’t even know fully. “She ran away when she was sixteen, homme. Gone for six years, and I don’ know nothin’ ‘bout dat time. Sometimes I t’ink she jus’ wanna forget it all, mon frere. Maybe we should let ‘er.”
Now holding her to him, with her asking for his help in alleviating her nightmare, Logan allowed his lashes to drift down, his lips moving against hers in slow seduction. She wanted to forget and he wanted to remember, what a pair they made, he thought with bitter humor. He wanted to ease whatever tormented her, but he could not- would not- make her tell him. If and when she did open up for him he wanted it to be because it was her decision, not one forced upon her.
An evil monster had taken her childhood, forcing her to witness acts of degradation and humiliation, forever scarring Ororo’s perception on the world. Alone for years, trapped in a world he knew nothing about, a slave without freedom and unspeakable horror for one as free as she was.
Ororo moved restlessly in Logan’s arms. “’Ro.” there was an ache in his voice and her heart fragmented.
“Logan.” She responded, shifting her body, raising herself so that she could position herself over him, sliding down his long, thick length in one slow glide.
His hips raised off the mattress, meeting her halfway. This was a new experience for them, Ororo on top, in control. Logan growled low and deep as she began to move, slowly at first, but soon finding her rhythm. Her excited little gasps were wreaking havoc on him, making it nearly impossible not to garb her hips and flip her, but he enjoyed the sight of her on him too much. Her head was thrown back, long neck exposed, breasts moving as she rode him. She opened her piercing blues and he was lost, thrusting up against her, holding her hips and forcing her against him, grinding them together.
“Come fer me.” he commanded on a groan.
“Yes..ohhhh, yessss!” She arched her back, long nails scoring the crisp mat of hair on his chest. She flung herself forward, her head on his shoulder as tremors wracked her slender frame.
He rolled her then, moving in long, slow strokes, drawing out her pleasure. He kissed her fevered skin, moving over her neck, along her jaw, claiming her mouth. He had never been much for kissing, in the past he rarely did it, found it a waste of time and energy, but with his beautiful wife it was as intimate an act as sex itself. He teased the inner recess of her mouth with his tongue, rumbling as her tongue stroked against his. He suckled her lower lip, teased her upper one, no corner left unattended. His body rocked with hers in easy rhythm, cherishing her. He made slow, sweet, unhurried love to his wife, his mouth never leaving hers until hours later when his climax came and he roared with familiar blinding ecstasy, wiping out everything but the feel of her tight velvet wrapped around him and the swelling love he held for her in his heart.

Headmaster’s Office
Morning

“Is he here?” Ororo asked, opening the heavy door.
Xavier nodded. “Forge arrived an hour ago. He’s in the chamber now.”
Ororo nodded. “Has he met Peter?”
Xavier shook his head. “Why do you ask?”
A small smile played with Ororo’s mouth. “I think they’d hit it off.”
The Professor gave her a humored look. “Playing match maker again, Storm?”
Ororo shrugged. She paced the room, touching the newly added plants with care. “I want to thank you for all you’ve done,” she said after a minute. “I may not trust you, Charles, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like you. You have a good thing here. Possibly an unreachable ideal, but a dream worth fighting for, and I thank you for sharing it with me.”
Charles cleared his throat. “Ororo--” It was the first time he’d used her given name since her arrival at the Institute and for some reason it made her want to cry.
“Okay then. Well, I have a combat session with Wolverine now, so I’ll be off. See you later.” She was gone in a flash, leaving Xavier staring at the closed door. Slowly he opened his locked drawer, pulling out a picture he had stored there. It was one of him during an excursion to Egypt that he and Eric had taken. He was standing at a vendor’s stand, smiling at the camera, dressed in khaki shorts and top, archeological hat on his head, but it wasn’t him that he was looking at. Behind him in the picture, standing out amongst the throng of people, a little girl with snow white hair and haunted eyes was reaching into some unsuspecting tourists pocket. He’d felt her that day, like a brush of butterfly wings against his mind and gone again, much like just now. He placed the picture on his desk, where he cold see it as he worked.

Danger Room

WHACK!
Storm hit the ground hard. Wolverine reached down, helping her to her feet.
“Ya all right, darlin’?”
“Yes.” She flexed her back. “Again?”
Wolverine chuckled. “If ya insist.” He took his stance opposite of her.
“So, what am I doing wrong?” she asked.
Wolverine studied her stance. “Yer projecting yer attack. I can read yer stance, I know which way yer coming.” He moved behind her. “Here.” He nudged her knee with his, bending it slightly. “Good. Now, ya feel the difference?”
Ororo shifted her weight back and forth. “Yeah, I feel looser.”
“Gives ya a chance ta shift momentum, change attack if needed.” He resumed his fighting stance. “Ok, come get me,” he challenged.
Ororo moved swiftly, balanced on the balls of her feet. She maneuvered right, but changed direction at the last possible second, punching Wolverine straight in the throat, knocking the wind from him.
He took a step back. “Better,” he wheezed.
Ororo smiled.
They continued for another hour, with her getting better each time, Wolverine noted with pride. She was adept at hand to hand already, but with his training she could probably give him a run for his money. They were sweating and panting when the buzzer sounded, notifying them that the Danger Room was needed by another group.
“Ya did good, babe.”
Ororo panted. “Thanks. I still think you should teach a class on this. It would be invaluable for the other’s to learn to fight.”
“Hmph.”
Ororo didn’t push. She reached for his hand and he wrapped hers in his strong grip. “I’m famished,” she said.
“Whattya in the mood fer?”
“Mmmm, grilled steak and potatoes and corn on the cob and maybe a fruit salad.”
Wolverine chuckled. His wife could eat. “Sounds good.”
“We should invite Ali and Gambit down for a barbeque.”
He nodded. “If ya want. I’ll run up to the kitchen and grab some stuff, then find the lovebirds and see if they wanna come by.”
“Okay. Grab Kitty and Kurt if you see them too.”
Wolverine grunted. “Yer pushin’ it, darlin’. There‘s only so much cute and cuddly this ol‘ canknuckle head can take.”
“They’re fun, and besides they’re family. I’ll meet you at home.” She leaned into him, kissing him sweetly knowing she would get her way.
“Vixen,” he murmured, deepening the kiss. She pushed his shoulder laughing. “Go.” she laughed.
She was making their way down the fluorescent lit hallway when she caught sight of Jean and Scott arguing outside the elevator. For a moment Ororo felt a pang of sympathy for the other woman, recognizing the look of love in the tearful green gaze of the spiteful redhead.
“I am not taking that animal’s sloppy seconds!” Ororo heard Scott ground out.
Jean reached for him but he caught her hand and squeezed hard. “Scott, you’re hurting me,” Jean whispered.
He gave her a nasty smile. “After fucking that animal I’d think you’d be used to it by now.”
Ororo’s teeth clenched. A sharp blast of arctic air slammed Scott away from Jean and into the steel wall. She moved forward, eyes flashing. “One more derogatory remark about my husband, pretty boy, and I’ll make you eat your visor.”
Jean rushed forward. “Scott!”
Ororo caught the redhead around the neck with one hand, forcing her back against the wall. “No.” She gave her an icy stare. “Let’s get one thing settled here and now. I don’t like you, Jean, but only because you make it damn near impossible to. I don’t want to be your enemy any more than I want to be your friend. So let’s agree that recent events are best left forgotten and move on.”
Jean was silent. Ororo gave her throat a squeeze. Jean nodded.
“Good.” Ororo let her go. She gave Scott a cold glance. “If you want to blame anyone for Jean yanking your chain so long, Cyclops, look in the mirror. You let her do it for so long it became habit. You love her, I can see it, so stop being a jackass and act like it.” She moved past them.
“Storm.” Jean called.
Storm paused but didn’t turn.
“You’re a better person than I am. I was wrong about you, and I’m sorry.”
Storm cocked her head turning. “Apology accepted. However, Jean, you weren’t wrong about me. I will kill anyone who attempt to screw with my husband.” Thunder rumbled. “Have a nice day.”


Boat house

“Gambit like da new digs, chere.”
“Thanks, Remy.” Ororo gave him a loving smile.
“You look happy.” he commented.
Ororo’s gaze wandered to the water’s edge where Wolverine was preparing to toss Kitty from the dock into the lake. “I am.”
Ali made sloppy kissy noises and Ororo threatened to fly her to the center of the lake and drop her. Ali laughed it off, turning on the cd player she had hooked up outside. Gwen Stefani’s voice filled the air and Ali began dancing and singing with the music, stomping her feet and shaking her ass.
“C’mon, girl, don’t leave me hanging!” Ali pulled Ororo off the lawn chair, and Ororo moved with her.
“Hey! You guys having a party?” Bobby Drake called. He and Warren as well as Peter and a new recruit named Betsy were making their way down the hill separating Wolverine and Storm’s home from the Institute.
“We weren’t.” Wolverine growled, coming up behind Storm and hugging her back against him. It was still an unusual thing for the others to get used to. An affectionate Wolverine.
“Oh, ok man.” Bobby backed up.
Ororo laughed. “Come on down,” she called. “We have plenty of food.”
As Peter lumbered towards them Wolverine whispered in her ear, “Ya sure about that, darlin’?”
She laughed, leaning into him. This was the life she’d always wanted. A home with friends and filled with love and laughter. She closed her eyes, tilting her head against Logan’s shoulder, basking in the warm rays of the sun. No matter what her future held she would never forget this moment with the warm sky and the laughter of her family in her ears and the arms of her soul mate around her middle. Home.

Xavier Institute
Westchester, New York


The early morning light found Ororo and Logan down by the lake, both wearing white Gi tops and Hakama bottoms, moving their bokkens in synchronic harmony. Logan was a master of many Japanese fighting styles and was currently teaching Ororo Kenjutsu, which was an exceptionally difficult art, and often never seen outside of Japan. She learned remarkably quickly, and was always an eager student. She was curious about the culture and though he could remember little except for how to fight, he explained what he did know, told her he lived by Bushido. She had seemed fascinated, enthusiastically asking questions, participating in his practices and meditations.
He shared with her a side he had never shown anyone before and one few even knew he practiced. She had gathered the importance of his sharing and had been immeasurably moved by it.
Now, watching her through veiled eyes he was taken aback once again by how exquisite she was, both physically and spiritually. Her soul the purest he’d ever known. She stretched her arms over her head, rotating the wooden sword in a smooth circle, flowing like he’d told her to, making the weapon an extension of her body.
“Yer improving every day, ‘Ro.”
“Only because of your expert guidance,” she smiled at him.
Logan removed the brokken from her hands, laying it gently on the ground. He closed the small space between them, wrapping his powerfully built arms around her, hauling her against his broad chest, allowing her to feel the distinctive hardness he harbored in his Hakamas.
Ororo twined her arms around his neck. “You seem most invigorated this morning, husband.”
Logan felt a satisfying warmth spread through him at the use of the word husband. He chuckled low and deep, pressing her closer, one large hand molding the small of her back. “I’m glad ya noticed.”
“Mmm. It’s kind of hard to miss, love.” She moved against him subtly, just a small rotation of her hips, but it caused a fierce reaction in Logan. He wrenched open her Gi, revealing the perfection of her breasts to his ravenous gaze. He slowly ran his hands up her body, cupping her.
“Perfect,” he whispered, bending his head, his lips teasing the budding nipple into a taut peak instantly. Ororo weaved her fingers into his thick hair, holding him to her as she curved her back, giving him better access.
“Will it always be like this?” she whispered softly, moaning faintly.
Logan raised feral eyes to hers. “Yes,” he growled.
Ororo felt her heart skip at his possessive look. He pushed the Gi off her shoulders, then tugged at her loose fitting pants, dropping them to the ground. He stepped away from her to remove his own when she caught his wrists. “Let me.” She ran her hands over the material, pushing it aside to see his glistening chest. “Goddess, Logan, I love touching you.” She lightly raked her fingers down his abdomen, teasingly lingering just above his waistband.
Logan grumbled in frustration. “It ain’t nice ta tease a man, darlin’.”
She rubbed her hand against him through the cloth, making his erection jerk. “I want to taste you, Logan,” she breathed, sliding gracefully to her knees, lowering his pants as she went.
At the touch of her lips against him Logan felt his whole body clench. God, but she was sweet torture. Her soft pink tongue darted out, catching a bead of moisture from the tip of his aching cock. His growls were coming deeper and faster now, his hips bucking impatiently against her of their own accord. How she made him lose his iron control so quickly was beyond him. No one ever had before. In the past for Logan there had been very little love in the making of it. Cold, detached conquests to get a nut, that was it. But not ‘Ro. Never ‘Ro.
He fisted her hair as she enveloped him in her succulent mouth, moving on him in slow, languid motions, unhurried, seemingly oblivious to the devastation she was inflicting on him. “Fuck, ‘Ro. Awww, hell, baby…” He was panting, his breathing harsh. Ororo placed one hand at his base, moving it in time with her mouth, the other moving behind him, squeezing the hard muscles of his ass, pulling him even closer. “Babe, uuunnghhh, babe…yer gonna…” his hips shuddered. “Aw, fuck.” He felt her finger press against his anal opening and he shook, sweat breaking out on his forehead. “’Ro…?”
She licked his length. “I want to taste you,” she said huskily. “Come for me, love.”
Holy Mary Mother of God!!
Logan’s entire body was engulfed in flames, every muscle contracting to the point of pain as she stroked and sucked him dry, his orgasm so powerful his knees gave way and he collapsed against her, chest heaving.
Ororo stroked his back, holding him to her, kissing his hair. He shuddered again as if little aftershocks were rocketing through his body, which unbeknownst to her, there were. He lifted his head and Ororo was moved to tears by the love she saw there. “Why?” he rasped unbelieving the beautiful gift she had just given him. No one had ever done that for him before.
“I wanted to.” she murmured with a loving smile.
Logan leaned his weight against her, pressing her into the still dew-dampened grass. He watched her face as he ran his hands down the length of her body, his nimble fingers parting her honeyed folds, stroking her sensitive treasure. Ororo’s eyelids fluttered, and she sighed before emitting a soft whimper, biting her lower lip. “Ya like that, darlin’? Ya want more?”
Ororo nodded.
Logan pressed one thick finger into her while his thumb rubbed against her swollen clit. “Tell me,” he said, still watching her face.
“More,” she moaned.
Logan inserted another finger, thrusting them in and out of her. “Yer so tight, baby.” He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse. “So hot.”
Ororo turned her head into his, burying her face in his silk. She could feel her body tingling, the familiar fire pooling in her abdomen. Suddenly Logan’s fingers were gone and she felt the searing heat of his mouth against her. She shattered into a million pieces, her keening cry of release music to his ears. He held her to him as her hips convulsed, captivated by the magnificence of her passion. She looked like a wild wood nymph, laying there, writhing in the grass. A seducer of senses, a creature of nature. His wife.
Feeling his body rousing again at the feel of her ripples against his mouth, Logan moved up her body, sinking into her before her body had stopped shivering. Amazingly Ororo felt herself soaring once again, her second release blinding her and she screamed his name, uncaring if it carried on the wind.
Logan pumped furiously, he too feeling the immediate pressure in his groin, exploding almost immediately. He bit her shoulder, convulsing against her. She in turn bit his, marking him and he rumbled with satisfaction.
“Oh my,” Ororo said in soft awe when their breathing had returned to a semblance of normal.
Logan grinned. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Later
Courtyard

“Hey you two!” Ororo called to Ali and Gambit who were seated next to each other on the fountain’s rim. Gambit was carefully tucking a piece of Ali’s dark hair behind her multi-pierced ear.
“Padnat!” he greeted enthusiastically. “Lookin’ lovely today, chere. Makes dis Cajun sad ta know you be wed.”
Ororo grinned, flashing perfect white teeth. “Flirt.”
“Shameless too,” Ali pointed out with a laugh. “But he’s right, Storm. You look, well, damn blissful. It‘s faintly nauseating.”
Sighing happily Ororo sat beside her two best friends. “You two seem rather chipper this morning yourselves. What gives?”
“Nothin’.”
Ororo raised one eyebrow. “Uh-huh.” She leaned back, filtering the clear water in the fountain’s base through her fingers. “Pregnant?”
Ali smacked her arm. “Not funny. And no! You?”
Storm shook her head, and a brief look of pain crossed her face. “No.” She stood. “Excuse me.”
Ali watched her friend walk away, back ramrod straight. She turned to Gambit. “Did I say something wrong?”
Gambit stroked her hair. “Non, petite bella.” He watched his sister and sighed. “Stormy can’t have children.”
“What? Why not?”
Gambit sighed. “Because of ’er mutant powers. It’d be awfully ‘ard t’ carry a bebe when you’re conducting hundreds of thousands of volts of electricity through your body.”
Ali splashed the water. “God, I’m such an idiot!”
Gambit pulled her into his arms, kissing her spiky head. “You did’n know, Ali.”
Ali leaned into his comforting embrace. “For a scoundrel, Remy Labeau, you have your moments.”
“Sshh, don’ tell.”
Ali leaned forward, kissing him sweetly. “Your secret’s safe with me, Ace.”
Gambit grunted. “What happened t’ Yummy?”
“Oh, you still are.” Ali trailed one hand over his chest.
“And you call me a flirt.”
“I never said I wasn’t. I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.” Gambit stiffened against her. “What is it?”
He stood slowly, peering around the yard. “Jus’ a feelin’, chere. Let’s get inside, non.” He was tugging on her hands.
“Okay, sure.” Ali said a bit befuddled. “We should get to the conference room for the briefing anyways.”
Once inside the Institute Gambit only appeared more agitated. “You all right?”
“Oui. Dis Cajun jus’ got da spooks is all.”
Ali gave him a searching look, but left it alone. “I wonder if we get little happy face stickers at this meeting.” she said opening the conference room door.
“Not today, Alison, but I will make a note of it,” Xavier said dryly.
“Oops.” Ali slid into one of the empty chairs. Gambit didn’t sit, instead standing behind her, almost protectively.
Scott was seated at the far end of the table, speaking quietly to Hank and Jean was busy looking through some folders.
“Hey peeps!” Bobby opened the door, followed by a forlorn looking Kitty.
*BAMF*
Ali noticed Kurt sit at the far end of the table, away from Kitty and she raised an eyebrow. Uh-oh, trouble in fluffy-lovey paradise. Speaking of fluffy-lovey…
Wolverine and Storm strode into the room. Storm was stilling wearing that newly married blissful expression and Ali chuckled. Someone was getting some good lovin’.
Storm turned to Wolverine as he sat. “How about a ride after the meeting?”
“Sounds good.” he nodded. He rocked back in his chair, a lazy smile on his face.
Oh, yeah, good lovin’.
After the other members of the teams arrived as well as some of the graduating underclassmen Xavier began to speak. “Good morning, everyone.”
“Good morning, Professor.” Several students replied.
“As some of you are already aware we are already receiving students for the fall semester.” He clicked on the 3-D projector. “Elizabeth Braddock, telepath. Her family is quite well known in England and being such they decided to send her here. I believe, Warren, you are already acquainted.”
“Yes, sir. Her parents and mine sometime vacationed in the Alps together.”
“Very good. Elizabeth will be on X-Men Black in the fall semester. Next up is Sam Guthrie, aka, Cannonball. He’ll be joining X-Men Red in the fall semester.” A few more clicks. “These are the latest pictures of the sentinel upgrades that are being implemented.” An image of a sentinel wielding long metal whip-like tentacles came on. The whips flayed a jet wide open, sending it to the ground.
“Peachy.” Ali muttered.
Xavier continued, flashing slides, talking about recent FoH activity, new mutant regulations and penalties but all Storm heard was a low humming in her head. She rubbed her temples, trying to concentrate on what he was saying. She was feeling dizzy, the room spinning in front of her.
Low, malicious laughter touched her mind. The feel of fingers stroking her neck, leaving ice cold imprints. No, oh goddess, no! She thought she’d have more time…just a little more time to be happy…
“Professor.” She interrupted him.
Xavier looked at her. “Yes, Storm?”
Wolverine reached for her hand noticing how tense she suddenly was. “Darlin’?”
Storm raised her head slowly, giving Xavier a pleading look. “Get everybody out.”
No hesitation from him. “Everyone out! Now!”
“What’s going on?” Ali demanded, Gambit yanking her from her seat.
“It’s Stormy!” Gambit cried. He gave Ali a hard kiss, shoving her towards the door. “Go!”
Ali reached for him, but Xavier was pushing them all out the door. “Gambit!” Ali screamed as the winds escalated and thunder boomed so loud the ground shook.
Storm flung her hand out. “Brother!” she cried, throwing him with a gust of wind into the hall with the others. “Stay quick,” she whispered, covering her ears with her hands, trying to block out the hideous laughter.
Xavier pushed with his mind, but he couldn’t budge Wolverine, who was kneeling at his wife’s side, holding her hands.
“ Storm what is it?”
She yanked herself away from him, flipping the chair, spilling backwards onto the floor. “Get away!!”
“Storm.” He was moving towards her, worry etched on his face.
“Please…” she moaned. “Go, before I hurt you…”
Wolverine’s entire being focused on the woman before him. His wife. His other half. “It’s him ain’t it? That Farouk fucker.”
Unexpectedly low laughter erupted from Storm as she lay sprawled on the floor. When she spoke it was as if two voices were coming from her, one of them her sweet dulcet tone, another low and dark. “You’ve heard of me? How touching.” A pause, her head cocking to one side. “Stop screaming, child.“ She gave Wolverine a conspiratorial look. “She seeks to protect you, poor thing. She suffers so needlessly.” Storm’s head swiveled and the malevolence in her face turned Wolverine’s blood cold. “Hello again, Xavier.” Wind howled and the walls moaned. “You’ve failed.”
Lightening smashed through the ceiling, throwing Wolverine and Xavier to opposite sides of the room, brick and mortar tumbling from the gaping hole now overhead, the swirling sky now in view. Storm shot straight into the air, her dark laughter echoing on the wind.
Wolverine shook himself, dislodging white paint debris and shoving fallen wood from his body. “Chuck?”
“I am unhurt, Wolverine. We must stop him.”
*X-Men! This is an emergency! Bring Storm down!*
“No!” Wolverine roared, his claws popping out towards Xavier. “Call ‘em off!”
The Professor shook his head sadly. “You are an X-Man, Wolverine. Go do your job!”
“Fuck you, Cue ball! That’s my wife yer talkin’ about.”
Again Xavier shook his head. “No, Wolverine, it isn’t, not anymore. If we don‘t stop her the storm cells she has already begun to create will merge--”
“Yeah, yeah, end of the flamin’ world. I heard it before, and I still don’t give a fuck. Call them off, Chuck, or so help me I’ll be shinin’ that bald head o’ yers over my mantle.”
“Not the end of the world, Wolverine. The enslavement of it! The Shadow King wishes to rule the world, not destroy it, but he will kill many to reach that lofty ambition.”
Lightning flashed, angry white steaks against the darkening clouds. Colossus came crashing through the wall, steel turning to skin as he lost consciousness. Storm was holding her own against the others, but for how long?
“She’s fighting, but he is strong.” Xavier was saying.
Outside thunder boomed and Wolverine caught a glimpse of a red laser streak across the sky. The others had engaged. “Fuck!” He glared at the Professor. “If she’s fighting, then she’s still in there. Call them off!”
“He’ll kill them. They do not matter.”
“They touch her, I’ll kill them!” Wolverine swore. He meant it, Xavier realized. A brief touch of his mind and Charles knew with certainty that Wolverine meant it. He would kill anyone that touched her.
Charles closed his eyes, wincing as though in pain. *Fall back, my X-Men.*
Wolverine retracted his claws.
Rain poured in through the open ceiling, soaking both men instantly with the heavy weight of it. The dull roar of a tornado could be heard as well as screaming students.
Xavier pressed his eyes tighter. “She’s getting…weaker…He caught her… off guard… she thought he’d come while she was… sleeping, she was …prepared for that…She wants you… to stop her,” Xavier rasped opening his eyes.
Wolverine was ballistic. “No!”
“She’s coming.” Xavier said quietly.
Storm dropped through ceiling, waterlogged and weary. She plowed into Wolverine, who caught her up against him, grunting on impact. “Storm!” He tried to pull her close but she pushed at him.
“I don’t have much time,” she said. She touched his face. “I love you, Logan, never doubt that. But I need you to do what you do best now.”
“No.” he ground out.
“Yes!” she cried.
“Yer fighting him, ‘Ro! Ya can beat this.”
She hung her head, long, wet clumps of hair falling in her face. “I can’t.”
“You can!” He shook her. “Goddamn it, you will!”
Ororo looked up at him and the tormented pain he saw in her blue eyes ate at him. His heart thudded dully, the sound echoing in his ears. She was crying in the rain, begging him to help her. “Fight, ‘Ro!”
“I can't fight him! Not every second of every day, never slipping, not even for an instant, Logan, please!” She pressed his knuckles against her chest. “If you love me…Please!”
Ororo watched as every emotion in the spectrum of human emotions played across his face. His jaw clenched, and his teeth ground. He stared at her with his dark eyes, his breathing ragged and torn from his chest. His lower lip trembled slightly as she tugged on his hand, begging, and his chin dimpled with a repressed roar.
“Logan, millions will die…please…”
He took a deep, shuddering breath. He nodded at her and she smiled. “I love you.“
“I love you, too, ‘Ro,” He clenched his fist. She was smiling at him, all the love she held for him there in her cerulean eyes for him to see, thanking him for this favor, this release from a lifetime of torture and torment, and…he couldn’t do it. Wolverine the hunter, the assassin, merciless killer and man rumored to be without a soul, couldn’t do it. Sworn protector of innocents and he was going to let the world be destroyed because he couldn’t unsheathe his claws into his wife’s chest.
“Logan…” Ororo whispered in forgiveness. Her shoulders started shaking, dark laughter boiling up from inside her throat. “Coward,” the duel voice hissed. “You shall be the first…What? Charles, help me! You know what must be done! Silence, child!” Storm looked back at Wolverine. “Before this is over, I shall let you watch as I make her my queen in every way.” Storm ‘s hands roamed up her body. She was suddenly still, almost frozen, then “XAVIER!!”
Flashes of bright white light, the heaven’s raining down upon them and Wolverine felt his body being lifted and thrown across the room with such force he plowed through four walls. He lay sunned and bleeding, his vision blurring and then the world went black.

Xavier Institute
Westchester, New York
Med Lab


The fucking light was blinding him. Wolverine growled, placing one arm over his eyes. His nose told him who was hovering over him and he snarled, “Get that Goodman penlight outta my eye, Blue boy, or I’ll shove it so far up yer ass--”
“He’s awake, Professor.”
“Wolverine.” Xavier rolled to the side of the elevated bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a truck.” he growled. His head was pounding, a lingering pain his healing factor hadn’t yet dealt with. Wolverine sat up slowly, trying to recall how he’d ended up in the med lab, dark and disturbing images flashed in his mind. He looked up and his eyes met Alison’s. He had never seen Dazzler cry, but she looked positively red rimmed and Gumbo was holding her, looking just as bad. Immediately he tensed, demanding, “Where is she?”
“Wolverine--”
He was on his feet in an instant claws bursting forth with a -SNIKT- and he snarled again, “Where. Is. She?”
*Easy, Wolverine. I will take you to her.*
Without a word Wolverine snatched his shirt from the chair beside the bed, pulling it one even though it was tattered and ripped.
As they exited the room, Cyclops asked, “Sir?“ Giving Wolverine a wary look.
*He needs to see her, Scott.*
Scott nodded in understanding.
Silently Xavier lead the way from the med lab towards the elevator. Wolverine noticed that Scooter, Jean and Colossus were tailing them, as well as Gambit and Ali but he didn’t give a shit. If they were heading to the elevator that meant ‘Ro was upstairs, and that meant she was unhurt. He felt his heart beat excitedly. He needed to see her, to hold her, needed it so much so that his arms ached with it.
On the elevator Wolverine felt the floor shift as they began to descend. Going down? He felt the hairs along his body stand up. He finally noticed the fear emanating from the others, could almost taste it, it was so strong. There was a hiss and the doors opened into a long hallway.
“Where is she?” he demanded again, his own fear pricking at him.
Xavier held up a hand, halting the others, giving he and Wolverine space. A flat pad sat on the wall beside him and the Professor placed the palm of his hand against it, entered a password, followed by a voice identification and retinol scan, finishing with a DNA swab from his mouth.
Wolverine tensed further. That was some damn tight security. As the gray steel doors slid apart a large glass wall was revealed. Wolverine took a few halting steps forward. He pressed both of his open palms to the glass, leaning his forehead against it, his chest heaving. ‘Ro.
Behind the thick glass barrier, in the center of an empty room was a faintly glowing tank, long wires and cables running from it, filled with a strange, thick looking pink liquid. Storm was floating inside the tank, eyes closed, her long cloud hair fanned out above her head, wires and metal rods poking all over her body, her head held in place by two long dowels in her temples. She looked so young and so broken that for a minute Logan couldn’t draw air into his body, completely consumed with emotion.
The others watched him cautiously, expecting violence. Jean turned her face into Scott’s shoulder at the look of acute anguish that crossed Wolverine’s face. The grief and agony pouring from him was staggering, and the rage was terrifying. He was close to losing it, she knew and she was afraid of what would happen if he did.
“What the hell is this place?”
“It’s a stasis chamber. Built by a gifted young man, who in his own right--”
“Not really giving a shit about who built it.” Wolverine growled. “I want my wife out of there.” He took an uneven breath. “How long until we can get her out?” No one responded. Logan turned, giving Xavier a hard stare. “How long ‘til we take her out?”
It was Ali who spoke, her tough as nails exterior cracking. “They aren’t taking her out.” She clutched Gambit’s hand, giving Xavier an accusatory glare.
“Like hell!” Wolverine snapped. “Ya can’t expect her ta spend the rest of her life in a fuckin’ tube?” He slammed his hand into the glass, but it didn’t even crack. “Let her out!”
“I can not,” Xavier said with quiet conviction. “This was her idea, Wolverine. This was the only means she was left with.”
“I don’t believe you,” Wolverine snarled, his lip curling back. His fist slammed the glass wall again. “Let her out!”
“We can’t.” Xavier insisted. “The Shadow King has her mind. To let her out would mean destruction on a scale we can not possibly deal with. That is only her body, Wolverine. Storm is lost to us.”
“If that fucker I is in control, then how the fuck didjya get her in that damn thing?”
Xavier sighed. “Storm had planned for this eventuality a while ago. She knew I could trap Farouk briefly an that’s all the time she needed to draw the storm back into her body, shocking her system, effectively knocking herself out cold.”
Wolverine stared through the glass. She looked so fragile, and so alone. “There has to be another way. Let me in there with her. I need ta talk ta her.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
-SNIKT- “Make it possible.”
Beast was approaching from the hallway, saying in his rumbling gentle tone, “What the Professor is trying to convey to you, my friend, is that we can not get in the room itself even if we wanted to. The air has been vacuumed from the chamber. There is no atmosphere in the room beyond the glass, Wolverine. We cannot enter.”
Wolverine felt his anger mounting, his body trembling in rage. If they thought they could keep him from ‘Ro, they were sadly fucking mistaken.
The claws on Wolverine’s hands began to extend and retract in a menacing manner. “I want my wife back!” he roared. He lifted his fist to strike the glass with his adamantium claws when Xavier sounded in his head.
*No. If you breach the glass an automatic safety launches and the tank will be infused with a toxin, killing her.*
“YEEAARRGGG!” Wolverine pounded the glass savagely again and again with his bare knuckles until crimson streaks ran along the clear wall. He wanted to claw his way in that room, bust open that tank, rip his love from the offensive wires and probes and take her away with him, where she belonged. ‘Ro. His wife. The light to his dark. Trapped. Frozen. Lost. “AAAARRRGGHHHH!”
Ali bit her lip to keep from screaming with him as they all watched in silence as Wolverine sank to his knees, panting, holding his bloody hands up to his face. “Give her back,” he whispered hoarsely to no one in particular. They had expected the violence, been prepared to subdue him if they could, but the unbearable sadness was altogether unexpected.
“I am sorry, Wolverine.” Xavier placed his hand on the fallen man’s shoulder.
“Move it, or I slice it off,” Wolverine snarled. He rose to his feet, saying deadly soft, “I want to be alone with my wife now.”
The Professor studied Wolverine‘s impassive face. “Of course.” Xavier motioned for the others to leave.
As Gambit passed he placed his hand carefully on Wolverine’s shoulder. “You made ‘er ‘appy, mon frere. ‘Appier den I ever seen ’er. T’ank you.”
No response from Wolverine.
The doors hissed shut leaving Logan staring through three feet of bullet proof glass and fifteen feet of empty space towards the tank that encased his wife. He ran one bloodied hand through his hair. “Fuck, ‘Ro.” he whispered.
After a few silent moments he reached out and touched the glass. “I’m so sorry, baby. I failed ya, darlin’. I promised ta keep ya safe and I failed.” He took a ragged breath. “I know ya can’t hear me, but I need ta talk ta ya now. Ineed ya ta know a few things.“
He smiled sadly. “Yer the only thing in my life that ever brought me any happiness, darlin’. Ever. I knew the day I met ya that you were gonna be trouble, but I couldn’t stay away.“ he chuckled softly. “I felt ya calling ta me, stirring my blood, making me ache…and right now I’m scared, darlin’, cuz I don’t feel ya now.” He leaned his forehead against the glass. “Xavier says yer already gone, but I don’t buy it. Yer in there, I know ya are, even if I can‘t feel ya. Yer too strong ta give up, ‘Roro. Yer the strongest woman I know. Hell, yer the strongest person I know. Who else can take down four sentinels in one strike? Who else would raid a military base just ta save my worthless ass, and have the guts ta face me down, and bring me back from the edge.? You did that, darlin‘. You saved me, and I‘m sorry, baby…so sorry, I couldn‘t save you.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I don’t deserve ya, ‘Ro. I never did, but it didn’t stop me from taking ya. I still can’t believe ya said yes.” a short bark of humorless laughter. “Never woulda thought I’d be married. Then again, I never knew there was someone like you out there. Yer so goddamn good. Shit, Ali told me ya went and hugged Jeannie after ya whipped her ass. That‘s a special kinda class, ‘Ro. Yer an exceptional woman. I don‘t think I ever told ya that.”
His hands fisted and a wave of pure anguish tore threw him. “Now I have ta be honest here, darlin’. I am royally fuckin’ pissed. The others are afraid I’m gonna go feral and wipe ‘em out. God knows I want ta make something’ hurt right now, but I won’t. Not because I’m a big man or some other self righteous, lame ass excuse, but because I know ya’d be disappointed if I turned. And I ain’t gonna let ya down again.” His fingers stroked the glass. “Can ya feel me here, baby? I’m here. I’m here. I won’t leave ya alone.”

Four days later

“You have to eat, Wolverine,” Ali was shoving a sandwich towards him. It was early in the morning and Ali was surprised she’d caught him. Gambit had told her he thought he’d seen him heading to the boathouse and Ali had immediately followed. This was the first anyone had seen of him in the past four days.
A dark menacing growl rumbled in his throat. “Go away.”
“Eat and I’ll leave.”
Wolverine’s dark eyes glittered. “Go away.”
Ali sat on the floor in the doorway.
Wolverine bared his fangs at her.
Despite the trickle of genuine fear she felt, Ali held her ground. “Eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Storm wouldn’t want you to kill yourself, Wolverine.”
He swatted the plate from her hands, the ceramic shattering on the floor. “I’m not hungry!”
“Fine!” Ali stood angrily. “You’re not the only one who misses her, you know!”
Wolverine let out his breath in a long sigh. “I know, Alison. I’m just the one that misses her the most.”
Ali touched the hand holding the cheesy wedding photo of the group of them that the wife of the Justice had taken right after the ceremony. Goofy drunken grins on all their faces, Ali on Gambit’s back, Kitty giving Kurt bunny ears and Wolverine and Storm locked in a passionate kiss. “I know. You bringing that to the room?”
“Yeah. I thought she may--”
“Wolverine!!!!” Kitty was screaming, racing over the small hill, tears streaming down her face. “She’s dying!!”
He was in motion before the words had completely left Kitty’s mouth, racing for the Institute, his heart thudding frantically in his chest. No. She wouldn’t leave him!
He burst through the front doors, not even pausing, sliding across the foyer and racing along the hall, students pressing against the walls to stay out of his way. He could hear Ali and Kitty coming behind him and he caught a whiff of cigarette as Gambit’s hand shot out, holding the elevator for him.
“What happened?” He raged.
“Don’ know, Wolverine. One minute evert’in was quiet, da next an alarm is going off and Stormy’s vitals dropped clean off.”
Wolverine felt like someone just kicked him in the gut. “Is she…?”
Gambit shook his head. “Don’ know.”
The elevator doors slid open and the two men were greeted by a savage looking man with matted, lank hair and gnarly fingers, his mouth open to reveal pointed yellow teeth. He lunged at them and Wolverine slit his throat without so much as blinking. There were three other such creatures in the hall.
“What the fuck?”
“Hounds.” Gambit said in a low voice. “Saw dem once before, right before my padnat ran away. Dey be his pets.”
“Dey be ground meat!” Wolverine snarled, leaping from the elevator, slicing the two figures closest to him. Blood sprayed the walls and they fell away from him, to the floor, scarlet pooling around their prone forms. The third hound was busy trying to get through the glass.
A faint tink was the only warning before the glass began to crack, a long branch forming and splintering its way across the barricade.
The elevator doors opened again and an optic blast flung the third hound away from the wall. Xavier and Jean followed Scott from the shaft.
“It’s crackin’,” Wolverine said, watching in horror as the glass shifted, ready to fracture. “We have ta get her out of there before it opens.”
“We can’t get to her,” Charles said. “The room was designed to never be opened.”
“I won’t accept that!”
“Professor, surely we can’t just let her die,” Jean said softly.
“What do you suggest I do, Marvel Girl? I have tried to reach her mind and I can not. She is no longer there.”
“Or maybe you’re just not the person she needs to reach her,” Jean shot back, surprising them with her tenacity.
For a moment Storm’s words came back to him ‘I’ll fight for Wolverine.‘ Xavier gave Jean a stare. “You do not know what he is capable of, Jean. The Shadow King is a dangerous adversary.”
Wolverine growled down at him. “Yer fear is no reason ta give up on Storm. She wouldn’t give up on you!”
The comment was not understood by most present, but Wolverine knew the Professor understood. Charles looked at the splintering glass and sighed.
“Don’t you think I want to save her? I do! I just know my own limitations when faced with Farouk. I can’t anchor you and fight him at the same time, Wolverine.”
“Then let me anchor him.” Jean stepped forward.
There was a stunned silence.
“What?” Jean crossed her arms. “I’m not completely heartless.”
With a curt nod, Charles motioned Jean forward. “We shall try,” Xavier said. He reached for Jean’s hand and she in turn for Wolverine’s. “Once inside the final decision will have to be hers. We can pull her back by force if necessary, but it could damage her. I won’t do that unless forced to, I would rather let her decide.”
Jean gave Wolverine’s fingers a gentle squeeze. “We’ll get her back.”

Blackness. Disorientation. Fear. Overwhelming.
~Where are we?~
~Storm’s mind.~
~Where are you?~
~Here.~
~Yeah, that helps.~
~Hush.~
Moving. Black sand rolling. Burying them.
~What’s goin’ on?~
~It’s Farouk, trying to dislodge us. Hold onto something.~
~Like what, a fuckin’ handle bar?~
~Like a memory.~
Laughter. Warm and sultry. Music to the senses.
~That’s good.~
~Where is she?~
~I don’t know. I still can’t see.~
~Where’s Chuck?~
~…Holding off Farouk. Not much time to find her. Call to her.~
~Storm!~
~What’s that?~
Flashes of white light. Tingling. Warmth. Darkness. Falling. Cold.
~Wolverine?~
~Still here, Jean.~
~Try again.~
~Ororo! You answer me damn it!~
~Charming.~
Burst of white. Falling. Clouds. Cerulean eyes.
~Hey, beautiful…~
~…Who are you?~
Child’s voice. Small and afraid.
~She’s regressed. Pushed her mind to a youthful state of limited awareness.~
~In English.~
~She’s a kid.~
~Hell.~
~Storm, you there?~
~Go away!~
Fear. Falling. Fading to black.
~How ‘bout ya leave the talkin’ ta me.~
~Well, talk then…the Professor’s growing faint…~
~’Ro.~
~…~
~I ain’t leavin’ here without ya, wife.~
Soft feminine laughter. Cool breeze. Damp blades of grass.
~That’s right, baby. Remember me.~
~…Logan?~
Blue sky. Tall trees. The boat house.
~There you are.~
~Logan, what are you doing?~
~Came ta get ya.~
Tears. Sadness. Aching. Tenderness.
~Oh, Logan. You have to leave. I can feel him coming.~
~I ain’t going without ya.~
~You must.~
~Nope.~
~Stubborn man.~
~Vixen.~
Warm wind. Scent of rain. Love.
~Wolverine! Look out!~
Jean. Afraid. Far away.
“She’s mine!” The Shadow King appeared in physical form, exhibiting how much power he had. No vacant mist or impression like they were, instead a solid mass of dark energy.
Wolverine felt the danger and tried to jerk his astral self out of the way but he felt red hot talons rake across his mind, making him roar in agony. He could feel the pain so acutely, like nothing he’d ever felt before. His mind was a pit of acid fire. How could she stand this? He could feel himself drifting, the pain making him lose what presence of mind he had here. He felt Jean and Xavier pulling him back and he roared in fury. Ororo!
~Logan!~
Anger. Seething. Fury, Tempest.
“You dare touch him!?!” Storm slowly materialized from the mist.
Farouk was surprised, but he hid it behind a sickening smile. His jagged teeth gleamed at her. “Come to me, Storm. You know your destiny.” His voice was low, almost musical, compelling.
Clouds swirled. Ororo closed her mind to everything but the abomination in front of her. She focused completely, unblinking, making him squirm.
He spoke again, sweetly, his words compelling in their ancient tongue. “Come, my queen. Leave the worthless animal to rot.”
Ororo was still, balanced on the balls of her feet, her breath moving evenly in and out of her lungs as Logan had taught her. Farouk. Shadow King. Hideous monster. Mortal enemy.
He reached one talon covered hand out to her. “Come.”
Storm rushed him, straight as an arrow, imagining a dagger in her hand as she moved, plunging it straight at his heart. The movement caught him off guard and though the blade sank deep in his chest he managed to slam his talons into her shoulders, raking deep, oozing furrows in her flesh. He dissolved into shadows and mist, swirling around her.
“Fight me, coward,” she hissed.
The air shifted and so too the clouds, changing into dark oil, the muck sucking at her feet, clinging to her ankles like a living thing. It began to crawl up her legs, tightening as it went, threatening to cocoon her. Ororo tried to block her fear.
Steel gray eyes. The gentle scratch of whiskers. Smell of cigars.
She opened blazing eyes. The darkness dissolved and once again she stood on a white cloud. The air became thick, hard to breathe, stale.
“Behind you, Ororo.” The Shadow King’s voice whispered in her ear.
She whirled, visualizing another dagger as she did, plunging it into his neck. Farouk roared his hate at her, tearing the blade from his neck.
Ororo whirled, lashing out with her foot, sweeping his legs out from under him.
Farouk snarled at her revealing long fangs. “Why do you fight me? You never have before,” he hissed.
Ororo didn’t respond.
“I see.” Farouk cocked his misshapen head. “You fight for the animal.”
“I fight for my husband, as he would fight for me.” She threw two blades at him, striking him in the chest.
Farouk dissolved, a roar of agony echoing in her mind.
~You did it, Ororo. Come to me and we’ll go home.~
Logan shimmered into being. Dark shirt, jeans and cowboy hat. Just how she loved him.
“You know something?” she asked huskily, moving towards him.
“No, what?” he asked when she was almost in his arms.
“Not fooled.” She crouched low, driving her hand through bone and muscle, straight to the heart. She closed her fingers around it and leapt backwards, tearing the blackened organ from his chest.
The Shadow King screeched like a wounded animal, his hands covering his gaping chest.
“Your in my mind, Farouk, and I’m no longer the frightened child you once knew. This time we play by my rules.” Lightning burst from every direction, converging on the beating heart in her hand, turning it to ash. “Bye, now.”

Stasis Chamber

Logan opened his eyes, blinking against the fluorescent lights. “Storm?”
Jean and Xavier shook their heads, neither of them had pulled her out.
“No.” Wolverine wanted to howl the pain was so intense. They’d lost.
“Uh, guys…” Ali was in the room now, watching as the glass spider webbed further. “I think we should back up.” She was pushing Kitty behind her, moving back towards the elevator.
“I ain’t leavin’ her here alone!”
“The atmosphere will correct itself as the glass shatters, Alison. Jean has telekinetic shields in place. We are safe here.” Xavier said, his voice mournful. “She will not be alone.” He sent that to Wolverine.
“It’s not the glass I’m worried about.” She grinned, pointing. “It’s Storm.”
In the center of the room, floating in the thick liquid Ororo’s eyes shot open, glowing against the dark. The liquid in the tank began to bubble, nearly boiling. Cracks ran up the sides.
“How is she doing that? There’s no atmosphere in there.” Jean whispered.
“I don’t think she cares.” Ali stated, still ushering Kitty backwards. “To quote visor-boy: Move people!” They all moved towards the elevator.
“Jean!” Xavier commanded as the tank exploded, the entire room shaking.
Jean grunted with the effort to maintain the psi-shield she erected as pink liquid and glass sloshed from the stasis chamber. As soon as Jean released them Logan raced into the room, slipping on the slimy fluid. He didn’t care. All he cared about was the woman kneeling in the center of the room, coughing and pulling wires and rods from her body.
“’Ro…?”
She looked up, eyes white. Low evil, maniacal laughter.
Wolverine froze.
Suddenly she burst into warm, sultry giggles. “You should see the look on your face.” She grinned up at him.
He growled down at her. “You have a sick sense of humor, wife.”
“Mmmhm. But you love me anyway.”
“Yes I do.” He knelt beside her, cradling her face.
“Great, then help me pull out the rest of these things. I feel like a pincushion.”
“Storm?” Xavier rolled as close to the broken partition as he could.
She looked up at him, her grin brilliant. “I don’t think I’ll need my inhibitors anymore.”


Later

“I can’t believe you came after me.” Ororo was drying her hair with a white towel. Immediately upon arrival at their house she had wanted a shower, claiming she felt like an escapee from the center of a jelly donut. Unwilling to let her go for even a moment Logan had washed her, dried her and placed her on the bed.
“You woulda done the same.”
She smiled. “Yes, I would have.” She tilted her head. “Only sooner.”
He crawled up the bed towards her. “Vixen.”
“Mmmm.” She traced his jaw. “I love you, Logan.”
He turned his face, nuzzling her palm and placing a moist kiss in the center. “I love ya, ‘Ro.”
She leaned forward, pressing her damp lips to his. Logan groaned, hugging her close. Ororo moved her mouth, tugging at his lower lip. “I need to be with you.”
Logan’s blood heated and thickened. “Are you sure you’re feeling up to it?”
Ororo deepened her kiss, sending her tongue into his mouth to stroke and cajole. “Definitely.”
Logan needed no further urging. He laid her gently back against the pillows, pulling the blankets away from her, his rough hands skimming their way down her flawless body. She moved against him wantonly. “I need you.”
Logan removed the towel from around his waist, covering her with his body, savoring the feel of his skin pressed to hers, the way her nipples hardened into tight peaks against his hard chest, the way her legs parted almost involuntarily, accepting him without reservation. He watched her eyes darken to a midnight blue so deep they nearly rivaled his for opacity.
His beautiful wife swung one long leg around his waist, urging him forward. With a deep rumble he slowly entered her, filling her to the point of bursting. Ororo’s head rolled back, her mouth opening as a throaty moan escaped. “Logan!” She moved against him restlessly, driving him mad with desire. God, he was already inside her and still he swelled. She opened her eyes, holding his gaze as he moved. Her lips parted and her breath hissed between clenched teeth. Fuck, she was sexy. He’d never seen anything as erotic as ‘Ro in her passion. He cupped her generous breasts, bending his head to flick her nipples with the tip of his tongue, watching her face as he did. She twisted against him, her little squirms making him pant. “’Ro. I’ll never get enough of this.” he warned.
“Me either,” she grunted as his thrusts increased. He moved his hands down her body, spreading her legs wider, sitting back on his haunches, watching their joined bodies as he slid in and out of her. It was an indescribable sensation being inside of her, with her tight heat and small convulsions gloving him.
“Yer mine, baby. I ain‘t ever gonna let ya go,” he swore, his hips increasing tempo, one hand moving between them to stroke her as he moved.
Ororo sobbed in ecstasy, feeling her orgasm approaching. She clutched the pillows behind her head, arching off the mattress to meet his hard surges eagerly. “Goddess!” The air sizzled, electricity arcing between them. It was another new experience for them, sharing the low voltage current, making every nerve ending intensely sensitive.
Logan moved fully on her now, his face in her neck as he thrust forcefully into her, his body hammering into hers. She accepted him willingly, relishing the feelings he invoked in her. He caught her face in his hands, kissing her as though he was afraid she would dissolve into thin air, a quiet desperation in his hunger tonight. She felt her body quaking and shook with the first ripples of release, soaking him in her heat.
“That’s it, baby,” he grunted. “Ahhh, yer so hot.” He kissed her again frantically, his own body shuddering.
Ororo kissed him back reassuringly, her arms leaving the pillows to circle his neck. She wrapped her legs around his hips, clinging to him. “My fierce warrior. You saved me,” she said into his mouth.
At her gentle words Logan’s orgasm took a sharp pinnacle and he bit her shoulder to keep from screaming. He collapsed on top of her, drenched in sweat, unwilling to move away from her.
“Hold me, ‘Ro,” he growled. “Don’t ever let me go.”
“Never,” she promised. “Never.”