Journal Entry:
Age 6-13


I do not know why I have not done this sooner, but it is better late than never.

To say that my life has been hard would be a gross inaccuracy. Born to a princess and a photographer, I was… I am truly an African American. My mother was an African Princess and my father, a black photographer from America, but I would never grow to really know them as most children get to know their parents. Uncalculated events took them away from me when I was six.

I was born in Harlem, NYC but my father was on assignment in Cairo, Egypt that fateful day a plane veered into our hotel suite and killed them. I was huddled under the rubble with the dying body of my mother and blood of my father. Hence, why I am claustrophobic. I, by the grace of some god or goddess, made my way clear of the debris and found myself alone on the streets of Cairo. Not many people spoke English and I being only six seemed like just another discarded child littering the street with my presence. Afraid, melancholy, hunger, I felt all these things and then some for the first time. I also realized how different I actually was, after all, how many snow-haired, sky eyed people are there with cinnamon skin? Later I came to learn the answer to that question.

Days and nights passed. So many of them melded into one that I can barely distinguish the difference from one day and the previous or the next. I walked the market place and gotten to know it very well. So well in fact that my hunger got the best of me one day and my hand absentmindedly found its way onto a merchants fruit cart. Though I staked the territory, I was no Disney Aladdin. I was not quick enough to escape. He was at least 5 times my size and with one grab of my wrist he lifted me in the air.

“Mommy, daddy, mommy, daddy, mommy, daddy, daddy, daddy,” I closed my eyes tight and repeated those two words like a mantra. I tried so hard not to cry but I was scared. I held out for as I long as I could and then I heard his voice.

“Release my child,” his words were not as foreign to me as they once would have been but I opened my eyes to stare into the face that would be my savior. It was not my father but he gathered me into his arms anyway and I was beyond refusal. “Whatever it is she took can be paid for.”

“Yes, Achmed. Please, please, I did not know she was your child. Please, your money is no good here.” He was apparently a well-respected man and everyone knew him, so they too knew that I was not his daughter, but that would soon change. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, my legs around his waist, and burying my face in the pit of his neck, I cried for the first time openly and freely. I remembered what my parents told me about strangers but I was in a strange land with people who spoke a strange tongue. I had to trust someone.

He took me home with him and by the point of reaching our destination I cried myself to sleep. When I awoke it was to sunlight peering through vibrant curtains of an open window and it was two days later. The room was bigger than my little body could cope with. My eyes adjusted to the vivid blues, purples, yellows, oranges, greens, and reds. There were mountainous pillows on the bed and on the floor. It was a fairy tale and I was the pauper turned princess.

Days turned into weeks and the weeks into years. I truly became the daughter of Achmed and his prize pupil. He turned me from the clumsy could be, to the master thief, pickpocket, and lock picker. All things I pilfered I did in honor of him because I owed Achmed, possible I owed him my life. But, he noticed one day that those walls could not contain me and he heavy heartedly let me go. I took all the lessons he taught me and put them to use, especially one. The streets are no place for the beautiful and he let me know that I was beautiful. So I never went anywhere presented as more than I was, an orphaned girl. I soon discovered I was more than that orphan girl. Someone once told me I was more, a man, a white man with no hair and blue eyes. I tried to pick his pocket but somehow he knew my actions before I and I was forced to retreat. He found me and all he did was stare into my eyes and then I heard his voice in my head. I have only encountered one man who spoke from his mind and I did my best to stay from him. I should treat this man no different, so I ran. Little did I know I would meet him again years from then and he would become my second mentor and surrogate father.

When I was thirteen, I started to fill out as puberty allowed, but breast were not the only things to make themselves known. I have always felt different from other people, I have always looked different, but I learned just how different I was the hard way. After leaving my palace of thieves, I made my way down the east coast of Africa, not exactly sure of where I was going, just following the wind. There were some men in a drunken stupor and one of them took notice of me instantly. All of my skills could not keep me out of their grasp.

“Hey there, girly. Where do you think you’re going?” Twisting, tossing, turning wildly, his friends restrained me as he unbuckled his pants. Achmed warned me of such things. All I remember was reverting to that scared little girl in the market place.

“Mommy, daddy, mommy, daddy, mommy, mommy…” the sound of thunder broke my barely audible chant. I felt it surging through me as his hands roamed my body and took comfort in my most private places. I felt the lightning in me and closed my eyes tight and then I felt him in me.
Pain. Anger. Pain. Hurt. My eyes shot open and I saw his grunting form over me.

“What the hell?! Look at her eyes,” it was the first time my eyes clouded over. I felt it, the lightning. I felt it surge within me. Calling me a ‘freak bitch’. ‘Arab whore’, he stabbed into me relentlessly and the pressure built, the pressure in my body and the pressure of the atmosphere. There was going to be a storm and I knew what the first strike of lightning was going to hit. Focusing my anger, I let it go.

“Aggghhhhh…”

“What the hell? Let’s get out of here.” They left their friend there roasting. The smell of lit flesh was nothing compared to what I just endured and I felt no remorse. Gathering what belonged to me, and the possessions of which he would no longer need, I changed into other clothes and allow the violated evidence to burn with his corpse and I went on my way. I was alone again but now with an unknown truth coursing through my blood.

Reaching where my winds died, I made peace in a village in Kenya and there I put my new power to good use and they in turn worshipped me. How many women can say they were actually worshipped as a goddess and have it true? I would think not many.

In my tragedy, I have been blessed once again.

Age: 13-17

Where did I leave off? Oh yes…
In my tragedy, I have been blessed.

The man I destroyed left me a part of him growing within me. I feel no remorse for killing him, but I did vow not to kill again. I do and have cherished life and thus I will no longer take it. The thought of my parents was the only thing at that point that could bring me to that conclusion and the impending birth of my child.

The village had no western concept of the importance of clothes then and thus I took on that custom. My body was once violated but that did not make me hate myself. I now had the knowledge of a woman and the purpose of my birthright. Later I came to learn that not all men were like them. There were some really good men in the world I would come to be called friend and sister by. I would later marry the best, but that is a story for later. As, I was saying, I forwent the clothes often. I was still developing physically through both puberty and pregnancy. The villagers went unaware of my pregnancy because I was only three months. Most likely they thought I was just filling out as a woman, if they thought anything at all about it.

One day as I leisurely sat by the lake to think of everything and nothing; I felt a stab in my womb followed by the onrush of blood from my center. Pain. Hurt. Pain. ‘Help’, was all I thought. Curled into ball, all I could do was wince at the pain and try to control it. If I can control lightning and fly on the winds then why can I not control my own pain? I tried in vain but I did not go unnoticed. There was a young girl, Nima, perhaps a year or two older than I gathering water no doubt for her family, who came to my aid. I did not ask this of her, but she felt she could not let anyone see their goddess in such agony. For that I was and am still very grateful to her. My fever broke the next day and I was childless. I was empty for a while but in my misfortune I gained a friend and she was the only one who saw me as once human. Nima was a good friend and I attended her wedding a few years later. She asked me to bless her, it was the least I could do. It is funny looking back at my life then, the faith that was put into me, a child, because I was mutant, but then it was not known to many what a mutant was.

My time in the village was spent being worshipped and bringing rain. People paid tribute to me every so often but at one point I refused to accept anything more. They thought I was angry with them and I would incur my wrath from the heavens. I tried to reassure them that I was as human as they were, but they would not have it and started to bring twice as many tributes from villages all around. So there I was, a goddess and lonely. Nima had gone to live with her husband in another region.

By this point I was sixteen and my hormones were very much in overdrive and I now know that it was because of my mutancy and puberty, although the X-gene seems to heighten that. All I could do was try to control myself. My emotions tied into the weather therefore I did not want to cause a heat wave, it was already hot enough. I met a man-child later, a prince. Prince T’Challa. He was very… beautiful, a humble prince. He came in search of seeing the goddess he had heard of from his neighboring villages.

We spent days and nights talking and he was as taken with me as I was with him. Though he may tell this differently, I say he was the first to start the kiss. My heart raced faster than a cheetah after its prey and I damn near jumped out of my skin when he scooped his right hand around the back of my neck to lean me in closer. He released me and I pulled back slightly and there we sat on the ground looking at each other. I could still feel the imprint of his hand on my neck and his tongue pressed against and twirling with mine. I was suddenly a fledgling vampire and wanted more.

When with him, I wore clothing, but not much. I was accustomed to nudity by now but somehow I did not want to seem inappropriate, even though I was a goddess and he just a prince. Well, I suppose technically I was… I am a princess, but no one knew that. Sitting back on my heels I faced him and with courage and a goal in my eyes I looked him dead on as I removed what little cloth I had adorn. Mimicking me he did like wise but with amusement in his eyes. We embraced in another kiss but this one was different, not like the first. Our chests were one and our arms intertwined. He leaned forwards and I leaned back allowing myself to go down with him. I left my arms and hands on him so I would not have flashbacks of bring held down. His kisses left my mouth and traveled to my pulse below my earlobe and then down my jugular to the valley of my breasts. It sent a shiver through my breasts and my nipples reacted instantly. (It is funny how I remember my first voluntary time very vividly.) He started to go lower but I flipped him over to where I was now on top and his arms were pressed above his head. There was no hate in me then, but it was something I needed to do. I was in control and he quickly got that hint as I lowered myself over him. Before either of us moved I wanted to get accustomed to the feel of him. It was both delightful and very thrilling and then we started an ageless rhythm. He rested his left hand on my waist and his right under my left arm holding me while my hands were braced against his shoulders. I threw my head back in reckless abandon as a loud moan left my lips. (I almost feel as if I am writing pornography.) Pressure was building again but this was different, it was pleasurable and wanted. The pressure of the atmosphere responded causing winds to pick up force. I tried to control them so innocents would not be harmed in my moment of passion but all I could do was get it to a less forceful breeze. My eyes clouded over and I closed then as not to scare T’Challa but he begged me to open them. I did and when I looked at him he had the eyes of a cat and claws to match but he did not hurt me. We knew each other’s secret. Well, I suppose it was not really a secret where I was concerned, but we shared it none-the-less. He used that moment to switch places and I was on the bottom without protest. He increased his stroke in both pace and firmness. My nails raked his back as my internal pressure subsided very audibly and he let loose a roar that would make Sabertooth seem like a mere kitten. To say that I did not like what we did would do to the memory, a great disservice. I loved every single mind-numbing minute of it. There were not many that followed him but there is only one other who surpassed where the prince took me physically.

Was it love? No. It could have been, given time, but it was not. He asked me to marry him several times before he left. I declined each one of those times. I had those feelings many times after he left, but usually his memory helped, it would have had to do for a long time. I did not make it a habit of sleeping around. He was special and we gave each other an extraordinary gift. No, not a child, but perhaps a part of ourselves was discovered. I was no longer afraid of his touch or anyone else’s for that matter and he learned extreme pleasure and a great friendship. I too value his friendship very much but a year later I would come to know different friendships, eternal bonds.

I had been seventeen for a few months when he entered my land. The villagers showed the stranger to my dwelling place. I came out to greet the stranger and there sat my past. At first I did not recognize him but the baldhead and compassionate eyes were the same that I stared into all those years ago.

“This is our goddess, Ororo.” The man in the wheelchair stared at her the same way he did all those years ago.

“I told you, you were special. I just didn’t know how special. Although, you are no goddess.”

“How dare you be insolent in my land,” I shrink every time that I remember how arrogant and uninformed I was. If only I could take it back…

“You are what is called a mutant, the homo-superior in nature. You have what is called an x-factor, which has mutated your genes and allows you a special ability and I deduce you are quite powerful. My insolence, as you put it, comes from my knowledge, Ororo. Just as I know that you have the ability to control the weather and are the same young lady you tried to pick my pocket all those years ago.” Flabbergasted as I was, he smiled and I knew he was harmless as far as his intentions. Some how, I was convinced by him to be a part of his dream of mutant and human cohabitation so to speak. He proved to be a great ally. He soon became so much more.

Age: 17-21

So the half American child in the foreign continent of Africa has now returned to The United States and it was all but familiar. How did this man convince me to leave peace and familiarity for what, a society based on commodities? I admit this was once my home, But I did not remember much. He, Professor Charles Xavier, wanted to get my history and to inevitably pick my brain, but I was resistant at first. Later I would come to accept. I was shown around and introduced to the others. There was Scott, a young American boy. He was actually a year or two older than I but something about him seemed young. Perhaps it was the way he responded to Charles, like a father and his son. I was told you could tell a lot by a man’s eyes but his I could not see. So I was polite but I kept my distance. Attached to his hip was a young red head, Jean. She was rather pleasant and seemed eager to get to know me. That too was a bit overwhelming, but I can understand her wanting to get to know me, she was the only female in the mansion for a long time. Then there was the metal Russian, Piotr. He was quite charming yet shy in the beginning. Kurt perhaps took me off guard the most, but I learned there was nothing to be afraid of. He was thin, covered in wisps of fur all over and he was a most endearing midnight blue and most amusingly, he had a tail. If I could be a goddess, he could be a demon, but we were neither. He was such a gentleman from day one. My fondest memory of him in the early days, is one I will never forget, neither will Piotr or Logan.

I was eighteen and had been in America for about a year now. It had been a warm day and I wished to go for a swim, so I did sans bathing suit. I still could not wrap my mind around wearing clothes to swim. I was alone, so there was no harm. Twenty minutes later Piotr and Kurt appeared with a new resident Logan. As I lifted myself out of the water, all attributes very visible. I introduced myself Logan. Kurt immediately took off his robe and adverted his eyes while wrapping it around me.

“You Westerners and your rules. I fear I will never understand them all.” I sighed.

“I’m German, Fraulin.”

“I’m Russian”

“I’m Canadian,” We enjoyed a laugh.

“I do hope you enjoy your stay here Logan.” I smiled and walked back inside leaving Logan with a cigar half lit hanging from his lips and a wide-eyed Russian, whose heart beat loudly against his tin chest. But I did hear their next comments as I stepped away.

“Mein Gott! That woman’s going to give me a heart attack.”

“Tovarich, Russian women don’t look like that.”

“What a woman!!” Logan said with a mile wide grin. “I just may like it here.”

Time past and we all came together, an adopted family, for most of us. We all became close in one way or another. Scott and Jean were as serious as ever about each other. Logan often interjected his self between them just to stir Scott’s blood and to make Jean blush. I would sit back and watch all this transgress and could not help but think that there was something wrong with me. I did not always feel this way at the mansion but there were times it would be a consuming thought. Back in Kenya, I was worshipped. Men and women kneeled at my feet. Here, I was just another woman, but I often felt I was just a girl. These were major feelings to overcome. This was a major change. In this house of men there was only two women, Jean and I. Jean was by far more extroverted than I. I would almost swear she loved the attention she received. She apparently did not feel threatened by my presence because she still commanded much of the attention. As selfish as she may have been in that way, she still proved to be my best friend and I love her still. But it still got to me, her relationship with Scott that is. I could have been married to a prince right now, but there I was, alone in a strange land. Sometimes those feelings came over me again but I had learned to control them for the most part. I had found it best to come up with a hobby, something I like to do. I thought about it for a while and it seemed that everything I thought of could get me arrested in this country, but once again Charles came to my rescue.

“Ororo, you do not seem to be at peace.”

“I am fine I assure you.” He smiled at my English. It had gotten much better. I had to relearn a lot of things when I came to the mansion, especially how to read in English. Achmed made sure that I was not like all the other children. He made sure I could read and write Arabic, French, Swahili and a little English, but I was out of practice in all those things.

“Well, I have something for you. It is specifically for you and you may do with it as you wish. Will you come with me?”

“Y...yes, but why would you do something for me? I did not ask for anything.”

“You need not had to have asked. I am happy to do things for all of you if you need it.” We stopped in front of a vacant window-paned structure. It was breath taking.

“Charles, it is a Greenhouse, a beautiful one at that.”

“Is that what you see, Ororo? A greenhouse?” He looked at me with those all-knowing eyes. “This is yours to do what you wish with. If it is a greenhouse in your eyes then that is what it shall be.”

I do not think I have ever been given anything as thoughtful ever. I loved him from that moment on and he knew it. I did not have to tell him, I had almost been moved to tears and that was enough for him, but was it enough for me? I had to tell him. “Thank you…father.” I felt I had to say it. No one since my biological father and Achmed, had anyone treated me with so much respect and love, had tried to teach me and cultivate the inner beauty. These men and life’s lessons has in part made me the woman I am today. He looked up at me. For once, I could not meet his eyes. My blushed hue must have given off a fair amount of heat or perhaps he felt my emotion and the truth in my words, because he grasped my hand in the most gentle of gestures and a tear escaped my eye. I give that moment credit for when the goddess finally came to Earth and realized how human she was.

Days passed and I was allowed the peace of my greenhouse, but I made it open to everyone. The time that I spent setting up tables and specific climate regions, I thought about the moment he gave this paradise to me. I thanked him and called him father. I questioned my decision. Should I have done that? Should I have elevated him to that status in such short of time? But then I thought of all the things he has done for me and all the time we have spent together. I enjoyed his company late at night when I could not sleep. He taught me how to play chess, a game of the mind. It did not take to long to get the hang of the game and eventually I beat him once or twice. We had late night talks on everything, especially books. Once I was reintroduced to reading, I took to the library easily. He then suggested that I was smart enough to finish school and so I did. It was all well worth it. There were many stories I did not share with him on those nights but I assume he has withheld many things from me as well. After all, we must be able to keep certain things to ourselves. I concluded that I was not mistaken in my choice of words.

Nursing my plants took my mind off of many things and it was my favorite pastime in my free time. Little did I know that so much time has passed that my twenty-first birthday had come. I was legal and the professor had given my housemates permission to show me a great time at night on the town at his expense. Looking back and knowing Jean, she would have anyway. We all went out, Jean, my confidante and sister, Scott, our auspicious leader, Piotr, my brother, and Logan, a man whom I did not know what to make of, but he was a friend. When Jean was ‘preoccupied’ with Scott, which was often, I could find a friend in Logan, the Wolverine, claws and all. The professor stayed at the mansion and Kurt was in Germany at the time, so the five of us enjoyed a night in New York City. They said I could do anything I wanted, but the one thing I wanted to do I had done earlier that day. Charles invited me to his office.

“Yes, Professor?”

“There was a reason why I asked you here. When you first came here, Ororo, you had no recollection of your part of your past. You are twenty-one and officially legal. Through some extensive work and help from a friend, I found some information that I think you’d appreciate.” He handed me a file that I would later learn held the beginning of my life.

“By the goddess, professor, how did you get this?”

“I have connections.”

“My parents…”

“David and N’Dare Munroe. That would make you Ororo Munroe. You were born at Harlem hospital and lived in a brownstone on 135th and Lenox Avenue. Your mother was an African Princess and your father a photographer here in New York, the city to be exact and that brings me to my next surprise.”

“There is more? I do not know if I can handle anymore.”

“This I assure you, you can handle this. A few days ago at a gallery, I ran across an exhibit on Africa tribal/traditional family. I believe it was called ‘Revisiting the Family’, it displayed photographs of the various family structures in Africa. There was one photograph of a young woman, an extraordinarily beautiful woman. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen in the picture. Anyway, I thought of you when I saw it so I had to get it. So, if you go behind my desk it is there wrapped. Go on, go get it.”

I looked at him a little nervously but said thank you none-the-less. “Don’t thank me yet.” He retorted with amusement and anticipation. “Go on, open it.” I did and then I sat there shocked beyond belief. In that picture my own face stared back at me but the caption below it read ‘Princess N’Dare’ and right below the caption a picture of my father. Looking up at him with tear stained eyes, “Is this really my mother and my father? I mean, of course there is not a doubt, but it seems so unreal. I had long forgotten the clarity of their faces. Thank you. I am not sure if just saying thank you is enough. This is… I mean, there are no words for how I feel.”

“Then that is all the thanks I need. I think your parents would be proud of the women you have become.” After taking several deep breaths, I got up and kissed him long but chastely on the lips. There was no confusion in that kiss, he knew it was totally gratitude, and I would do it again a thousand times over.

I went into the city later that day. I felt there a stop that I needed to make, to bring a sense of peace and to find an iota of familiarity. I found both. The familiarity I searched for I found in Central Park. Flashbacks began to swarm through my mind like misguided bees and then I remembered one of the last times I was with my parents in this city. Mother, Father, and I spent the entire day in the park. We walked the entire perimeter and circumference of the park starting at 110th street. There were various stops we made along the way, like at Wolman Skating Rink, Cleopatra’s Needle, the Children’s Petting Zoo, the Central Park Zoo, and other places. Every now and then, mother wanted to take a break from walking so we stopped at a few of the many playgrounds. She would sit on the bench while daddy and I made use of the park. I loved the swing. I would always beg to be pushed higher, but he said that would probably give mommy a coronary. I did not understand then but at that point I could care less because I was with him, with them and I was safe. The only time we exited the park was to eat and then to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. He said he wanted to show me the exhibit on Egypt, where we would be going. So I went to the MET again, fifteen years later and sadly without my parents. Amazingly, there was still an exhibit on Egypt, though updated, I still felt as though it was the first I saw it, like all those years ago. I got what I came for.

So we went out that night, the five of us. Piotr was the youngest of our five, but he was allowed in with us. Jean and I together could charm a snake from its skin. We went dancing and for a few drinks. I was not a drinker then and I am not much of one now. One of Achmed’s lessons involved alcohol and how to handle it. I was a fast learner and I did well, but I did not see the point in attempting to drink oneself unconscious. That night Jean and Scott were inebriated to say the least. Piotr nursed his second drink and danced some. It was quite a sight to see the tall Russian shake his groove thing with 5’5 plastered blonds. I still laugh even now. Logan and I were the designated adults for the night, mostly because Logan cannot get drunk and I did not wish too.

It was late and we gathered the gang and headed back home. Logan drove, and I sat in the passenger seat. Piotr was asleep in the seat behind us and Jean and Scott were mating in the back seat. I was amazed that they had the self-control to keep on their clothes, but every now and then someone hands would disappear and I nor Logan wished to know where it went. Reaching the mansion, Piotr helped Scott and jean inside, but as I went to exit the hand on my arm stopped me. I was more than a little surprised.

“Yes, Logan, what is it? Is there something wro…” My words were cut short with is mouth. I was unprepared for the feeling of him and at the same time the feel of him was not the same as his exterior would make it seem. His lips were like velvet, very soft to the touch. They were moist but firm. I gave in. How could I not give in? After what seemed like time standing still we broke apart.

“Why should Scott and Jean have all the fun?” I smiled. I did a lot of smiling then. “Happy Birthday ‘Ro,” he tossed over his shoulder. “Thank you, Logan… in more ways than one.” I whispered. He chuckled. Somehow I knew he would hear that. I could not take it back now, but if I was mistaken there was something I could only described as passion behind that kiss. Oh, well. We were definitely friends and I had a very happy twenty- first birthday.

Age 21-24

I have never loved a man the way a woman loves a man until I met Forge. The kiss from Logan on my twenty-first birthday gave me hope for that kind of love in life. My life was in a transition period and thanks to a former girlfriend of Wolverine’s, Yukio, it was given a little direction, just a little. Its results were, well daring would be a good word. I cut my hair and began to sport a Mohawk and I began to adorn leather. Leather against bare skin felt as if I fell asleep with a possessive arm wrapped tightly around every inch of me. Yukio definitely had an affect on me. She almost got me to get a piercing, in a remote location. She is a very convincing woman, but I did not budge that time. I was sent on a recruiting mission. She, Rogue, was a wanted woman by the government and by the X-men but for two separate reasons. The government wanted a mutant weapon and we wanted an ally.


Thankfully after some convincing, she chose us, but not to the liking of the government. They had a mutant engineer, Forge create a weapon that neutralized a mutant powers. Unaware of the affect of the gun, I thought I was protecting Rogue from death. Instead of her being shot, I took her place. At one point, I wondered what the hell was I doing? But I knew what I was doing and I would do it again for any innocent. Her life was being threatened and she was young, too soon to die, so I traded places. A few days I awoke to a man bandaging my shoulder, from further injury due to my collision with the land after being shot. I was stripped of my security, my leather, and placed in a strange bed with warm sheets. I was a little more than confused. Where was I? Who was this man?


After learning who he was and experiencing his compassion and kindness full on, I almost loved him instantly. That was a mistake! I have often wondered why and how I could have done such a thing. I know it is because I was searching for the missing relationship I had with my father. There was a part of me that dies the day he did and I wanted to rekindle that relationship. I was looking for the wrong things to begin with. After spending a few days with him I overheard a conversation he had with a government official wanting to get rid of me. I felt betrayed and enraged and I wanted blood! I do not think I have ever been so hurt ever. All this negative emotion was riled inside of me and I no longer controlled lightning. I would have given anything to have lightning strike at that moment. I wanted that release. I wanted my birthright. It was mine and he took it! He tried to stop me from leaving claiming he could explain.


“Ororo, please wait. It is not as it seems, honestly. I…”


“Do not attempt to coddle me with virtues you do not possess!”


“But, please lis…” He wanted to give an explanation but my fist did the reasoning.


Powerless, I made my way back to the mansion to face my new found past. From that moment, I spent a lot of time in my greenhouse and in my loft. I did not want to see anyone, I barely wanted to eat, in fact, it was almost rare if I did. Perhaps I was starving myself because of guilt or jealously. I was angry and I had every right to be. The ability of the winds, pure snow, lightning was at my whim one minute and sent all back to mother nature the next. I needed to vent and fast, so I found the danger room as a way out of a slump. Instead, my exit was an entrance into another. I spent all my time in there now. I literally beat the stuffing out of the equipment, but I did not notice the audience I acquired.


“Ya know, Windrider, ya leave your right side open often when ya attack.”


“Do not call me that. I am no longer the Windrider, I never will be the Windrider you knew.”


“First off, Ororo, you’re speaking past tense. We will never have the Windrider back ‘cause ya don’t want it and two ‘cause we are never the same person we were a minute ago, hence the term past tense.”


“Look, I do not need one of your philosophical lectures. I am fine, Logan. Thank you for your concern.”


“It’s not just concern, love.” There was something in his tone of voice, something beyond concern. We had been true friends for a while now, much closer than family. We needed to rely on each other and he often had, but now to him it seemed as if I had lost my safety when I lost my powers. Anyway, that is the way that he would come to explain it years later.


“Look at yourself. You’ve been in here for hours, darlin’, non-stop, and for what? Because you can’t regain something you were. Well, maybe ya weren’t meant to recover it, instead to improve what ya do have. So, like I was sayin’, ya leave ya right side open when you attack.” He and I spent the next few days in a fit of self-defense lessons. He never went easy on me although I was powerless and that I will always be grateful for. I felt as though the others were coddling me. Everyone was willing to leave me to my peace, although I was not at peace. There was no peace to be found in the stares and words of condolences of my teammates, or rather former teammates. I no longer felt a part of the team, not completely. Therefore, there was only one option I needed to implore. I needed to leave. I knew I would not be gone indefinitely, just temporarily. I made the professor aware of my decision and he heavy-heartedly agreed.


“I thought our sessions would do you some good, but I see they have not done as much as I had hoped. I don’t, by all means, wish to guilt-trip you into staying, but I just wish there was more that I could do. I almost feel as though I have failed you. I managed to be there for you other times but this is different.”


“Please, do not put this all on yourself. You cannot be expected to solve everything, especially with a gift. Perhaps that is the problem. You were always there to pick up most of the pieces but now I have to do it all. I need to find peace within me and make my own way back home, when I am ready.”


“Until then, this home will not be the same without you. You carry the heart of this team, whether you realize it or not. Powers or not, you are still a part of this family and we welcome you back with open arms.”


After that confrontation, I said my good-byes and I left. I had decided to make two stops. The first stop I made was to the home that I left, to rediscover myself. Well, now I was returning to rediscover who I was, the part of me that I left behind. I felt I could not go back to the village in Kenya because they would be expecting their goddess to return. I was no longer their goddess. I was no longer a goddess. So, I went to my home in Egypt, to my palace of thieves. There were new things, but some that were very familiar. For instance, the hotel site in which my life was first shattered. I knew where it was but now there was a new building erected in its place. Even today, I still say a silent prayer whenever near or in passing of that site. There, in Egypt, I stayed for months. My twenty-second birthday had passed and I was still in Cairo. I had trained the street urchins in all the lessons I have learned from Achmed and I incorporated much my X-men training, but the lesson I found most beneficial to teach them were the lessons that Logan taught me. Just the thought of his name at the time caused my heart to thicken and pound just a little harder. Why I was unsure but of course I felt indebted to him. Years later I realized my reasons for that reaction.


“So, my child, you are going to leave us once again.”


“It is was not to be a permanent arrangement. Farewell teacher.”


“My child, I hope you should confront whatever it is you are running from.”


I was not surprised at his accusation, because he was correct. With his last words, I kissed him and went on my way. I decided I needed a little refueling. I found myself in Japan with Yukio. That woman has the strangest effect on me, but then I assume most people have that problem when in her company. By the time I reached her, my hair had grown out considerably being that it was previously a Mohawk. It was long enough to where it could rest comfortably behind my ear and curl under my chin if it was swatted back. Once again she tried to convince me to cut it but this time I would not.


“You know Ororo, you need to let your hair down.”


“I would, dear friend, if you would stop trying to convince me to cut it.” She laughed and I smiled.


“You know what I mean, love. When was the last time you laughed? Tonight you are going to let down all those inhibitions and have fun whether you want to or not!”


She was forceful and very determined that I should have a good time while with her. She got her wish. The evening started off with a few drinks and a lot of dancing and then a few more drinks and then a little more dancing. I had never been so carefree as to when I was with Yukio. Her quest for self-fulfillment and thirst for life was at all times quite contagious. We stumbled into her home laughing of the evening’s events, said and done. Every time I think of visible erections men got from watching Yukio and I dance together with out male intervention I still laugh because that was her desired reaction she wanted. We made our way up to the master bedroom without accident miraculously. I think she had many more drink than I and was almost incapable of functioning. I started to undress her as she held onto my shoulders to stay standing and not land derriere first on the floor. She was no more self-conscious than I about her body. I discarded her shirt on a nearby chair. I felt her grip my shoulders a little harder and then I knew she was staring at me. I looked up to meet her eyes and I was overwhelmed by what I saw, but that was soon negated by what I felt. Her lips were on mine in a matter of seconds. How they got there I am unsure. The last thing I remembered was that I was staring into her eyes and now she was kissing me. I soon found myself responding. The first thought that popped into my mind was, “I wonder if she learned this from Logan, or did he learn it from her”? Moments after her nimble fingers divested me of the dress I wore and found their way to my breast, other thoughts surfaced. By now we were both unclothed and kneeling in the center of her bed kissing and touching each other as if exploring our bodies for the first time. “What am I doing? What is she doing? What are we doing? What am I doing”? I knew this had to stop, but what made it stop was the random thoughts that had just started on a rampage through my mind. She felt my resistance and growing distance. She pulled back to look at me again, all signs of drunkenness were erased from her face. Placing a platinum strand behind my ear and leaving her hand to cup my neck she seemed to have something to say, like an apologize.


“Please do not apologize, Yukio.”


“Me apologize for what, love? There is no way in hell I’m apologizing for a damn thing! I’ve been wanting to get you like this for a while,” she said while waving her dark brow with a smile. “’Ro, you know what I think about love.”


“Yes, I do. To you, love knows no gender.”


“So, love, are you gonna tell me his name?” I was shocked at her revelation. Was I that obvious? “Stop the bullshit and tell me his name, Windy.” (What is with all the nicknames I receive?)


“His name, since you must know, is…”


“Logan?” I glared at her for cutting me off with that name of all names.


“No. His name is Forge.”


“Aww, damn. I always that you and Logan looked perfect together!” I laughed at the thought, but it was not that funny. “So this guy, Forge, he’s the one that made you leave, huh.”


“That is not all he did. He is the reason why I am rendered powerless and he is why I am so confused.”


“You’re caught between love and hate. If you didn’t love or hate him would we be talking right now?”


“Yukio!” She could be quite perverse at times. “Yes, I would have stopped us. I love you very much, dear friend, too much in fact that I could not have allowed us to continue.”


“Damn you and your sense of friendship,” she snickered pretending to be upset and surprised by my answer. “You need to find this Forge and tell him you want your powers back and then tell him how you really feel…or you can tell him where he can shove himself.” She sounded as if she would drift to sleep at any moment. By this point we were relaxed on the bed, my head on the pillows and her head on my stomach. I could see her face through the valley of my breast.


“If things were that easy.” By now her eyes were closed, her arm draped around my breast and her right thigh settled on mine. She was fully aware what she was doing; her sleepy grin gave her away. So I planned a little payback.


“You know, I have been wondering something.”


“Yeah, What’s that?”


“Did Logan teach you how to kiss like that or did you teach him?


She began to answer sleepily, “He… wait a goddamn minute! How the hell do you know how Logan kisses?” Her eyes were wide open now. “Ororo, answer me damn it.” I would say she was just a little upset that I had never told her about the kiss I shared with Logan.


“Good night, my hell raiser.” With that I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. Sleep was not forthcoming but extreme laughter was.


“Oh hell no! You don’t get out of this that easily. What the hell is so funny?”


“You are dear friend, you are.”


I stayed with her for a few more weeks and never did answer her question about Logan. She does have a habit of making life interesting. I returned to the mansion unnoticed, or so I thought. Logan was there, in my loft, watering my plants. That was very thoughtful.


“Welcome back, goddess.”


“Thank you, but I am not back yet. There is something that I must do first.”


“Need help ripping his heart out?”


“No thank you, I can handle it.”


Well darlin’ you know who ta call should ya need my help? Oh, by the way, ya could’ve warned me about the gettin’ phone calls from Yukio.”


“Oops. Sorry about that.” We both laughed and I was on my way.


I was going to have what was taken from me returned to its rightful inhabitant, me. I found him in his compound and before I could demand anything he shot me. It is not as dramatic as it sounds. He fired the antidotal equivalent of what neutralized my power. He knew I was coming for him. I should have figured he would know based on the amount of technology he harbored. But there I was on completely not prepared for that particular welcome. I wanted to at least try to beat him until he was hollow, like it did in my mind so many times over and then I made love to him to. I suppose at that point my mind was a twisted place to be.

My anger directed towards him did not subside instantly, but over the next few days that I spent with him, it dissipated. He at times seemed arrogant but I myself once could have been called that, granted it would have caused that person a lightning bolt but it would have been true. As arrogant as he occasionally was he was also polite, gentle, accommodating to my recent physical needs (By the goddess, no I do not mean sex!!!) I mean the fact that I was bedridden. I came to love him again. That is when a lot of things went haywire. For instance, I returned to the mansion a week after the confrontation at Forge’s complex and my powers were restored and working better than ever. It did not take long for me to control them and my emotions in regards to my abilities. Forge started to hang around the mansion more, mostly as a consultant on our facilities and equipment. He and I started to spend much time with each other. He definitely lived to the name Maker. A month or so later on a mission, Forge accompanied us. It is still unclear how but at some point he and I were transported to what can only be described as a Limbo world of some sort. It was beautiful, very real and we were stranded there.

To us, days were passing and there was no one and nothing to interfere with our relationship. We learned a lot about each other and on the 8th night we made love. He had told me he loved me, and I had finally reciprocated it verbally. And then just as suddenly as we were transported there two months previously, we were transported back to our reality. There was a slight difference though, time passed differently. The physical difference made the experience all the more real. My hair had grown out, almost to my waist. I now think of my hair as important as a tree. Like the rings in the tree, the length of my hair relays a history almost. But also, what was two months for us in limbo was two hours in our reality. This is all so confusing, even today years after the incident. Anyway, the other X-men found us unconscious in the woods. Neither, Forge or I, remembers how we got to that destination but we did.

The life of an X-man is anything but dull and it proved that again. I was now twenty-four and unknown to myself I would be transformed to the age of twelve.

Age 24-26


It seems that when writing ones life down, it is hard to include all that has happened and so to explain the next part I have to elaborate on one of the previous parts written.


I suppose I should have mentioned the time I spent with The Shadow King. In Cairo, Achmed was a well respected man but even he had to answer to someone. That someone was Amahl Farouk, The Shadow King. I suppose he was behind all organized crime in Egypt or North Africa for that matter. He was a mutant who fed off of the hate, rage and sometimes fear of others. We, the street urchins stole for Achmed and Achmed had to pay a percentage to Farouk, a large percentage. Once, there had been a slow season for us and Achmed come up short when the Shadow King sought payment and therefore he had to punish Achmed. As a punishment, Farouk took Achmed’s top pupils, his children. That meant Amir, Kamal, Kamilah, Shariff, Fatima, and I would be in the service of The Shadow King for a year. He did not want to let us go but he had no choice. We thought we understood what the terms of service but we were mistaken. We thought it just meant that we would just steal for a year. We were mistaken.


For a year we were taught to go after big game, jewels from the museum, money from banks. I did not like it. I much preferred the unsuspecting tourists. They were easier. I also liked the guys who hurt others. They deserved to be robbed blind. I know that two wrongs do not make it right but I was not one for absolute logic at that point in my life. A few times while on a job, we witnessed his men kill in order get what they wanted. We were not accustomed to killing and neither of us really cared for, but every now and then Shariff, Amir, or Kamar went with these men. We would later learn that they were being trained to kill, ‘just in case’. Then, every so often Kamilah, who was the oldest of us girls, would disappear for a night. She would return the next day and sleep for hours. What could make her so tired? I often wondered, but one day she sat Fatima and I down and told us some things.


“Sooner or later, probably sooner the longer we are here, you will not be seen as little girls anymore. Things will be asked of you, things that you may have never thought of doing. Do what you feel in your heart is right.” She looked so sad as she spoke. She took our chins in her hands and was as gentle as I remembered my mother being. It was becoming harder to remember my mother, but times like these bought it all back. Her face was now tear-stained. I had never seen her cry until then. My heart was breaking and I had no clue as to why.


Achmed was allowed to visit occasionally. One night I could not sleep, but it was not the heat that made sleep impossible, it was pure restlessness. I overheard a conversation between Achmed and Kamilah. She was upset and he tried to comfort her, but he barely made a dent in her emotion and she would not allow him to touch her. I could only make out a few words and phrases like, “I only do it to keep Fatima and Ororo safe.” I had no clue as to what was meant by that until I dwelled on those words years later. At that moment I began more observant of the things that went on around us, like the conversations and reactions. I watched the men watch us and I was disgusted.


One day, The Shadow King called for me. I looked in Kamilah’s eyes and they were holding her breath, she raised her chin along with mine and told me to go. He circled me like a rabid dog looking to infect another. Occasionally her touched my hair and asked me if those were my real eyes. Goddess, I was so sick of that question. If I could pluck them out to prove they were real I would wear them around my neck for all the world to touch and check their validity. It would seem that looking at my face was not enough. Family genetics made it possible. How often do I have to scream that mentally and say it calmly?


“Do not touch me!”


“You dare to give me an order, child?”


“Yes and I said do not touch me.”


He laughed at my seriousness. “You have too much personality for one so small. I would never dream of hurting you. You are the best of Achmed’s pupil. He even loves you as a daughter. I could see why, you are too beautiful not to be protected at all times. You are his little princess.”


“I am not above anyone else in our home. He treats me like he does every other.”


“Then child, you are ignorant and blind.”



I did not like working for him, but I was good at what I did and he noticed me more and more. After that year of servitude, Achmed never let us out of his sight and he made sure to make quota every month. It seemed his heart was torn out with out having us around.


I suppose that brings us to where I left off last time, being reverted to twelve year old. It seems that The Shadow king certainly did not forget about the outspoken little street rat that I was and he devised a plan to get me into his services again. He used an accomplice to get the job done, Nanny. Her job was to recreate the child that I was, literally and then to capture me so that I would wake up in the services of Amahl Farouk or whatever new hateful human vessel served as his host. The job was half done.


On a day that I ventured out of the mansion and into Salem center. As to remain inconspicuous, I drove Scott’s car. To be correct I drove Scott’s car into a tree. There was something in the road and as not to hit it, I swerved off of the road into a tree. The airbag deployed almost immediately causing me complete confusion and disorientation. Moments of darkness gave way to clarity but I was no longer in the car at the crash site. I was at a facility.


“My master wants you, young lady.” I knew not to panic but I was beyond angry and feeling violated.


“Who would this master be, that thinks he could have me?”


“The King of Shadows, is his name. And from the look on your face my dear, you remember him clearly.”


Unless the look on my face registered anything but disgust, yes I remembered him clearly and none of the memories fond. Minutes were flying rampantly and I was tethered to an apparatus that for the life of me I could not figure out why, but attentions were made clear agonizingly long moments later.


“He wants you as he remembered you, a young girl, who had yet to reach FULL potential.” I did not like the way she said full. Something had to be done and my powers were useless with being tied up so I saw my only option as telepathic intervention. I tried to contact the professor and silently hoped that maybe Jean had heard my call, but it was it was caught short. I am almost certain that they felt my agony as I was fired upon by blue beam of some sort and then felt nothing.


When I awoke, I had very little memories and the ones I did retain were jumbled. I was in a bedroom fit for a queen. I got up, shaking off sleep and traveled to the nearest bathroom and the reflection in the mirror was one of a child, a pre-teen. I had the body of a twelve year old and the mind of a thief from Cairo, again. I had mixed memories of the X-men, the village in Kenya, Forge, Charles, Jean or Logan. But the room, it seemed all too familiar, as if I had been in it before or one like it. I searched for a way out but when I went to the door it was guarded by a beast-like creature. They looked trapped between the existence of a dog and one of a human. “How tragic” I thought. I did not dare test their ferocity and sought to find another way out and find where I was. The bars on the window were easily mobile and we were not too high up so I would not hurt much if I were to jump. I did just that and I made a clean get away. Somehow it all seemed a little too easy but I kept my wits about me and disappeared quickly.


Still having no clue as to where I was, I knew my stomach did not lie as it growled so I was off to find something to eat. Wherever I was the streets were narrow and the streets were long with building. I was beginning to feel a little claustrophobic, but hunger took those thoughts away. I blended in as much as I could with the look of the people, but a white haired girl barely goes unnoticed. I watched the open food cart that stood across from me and when the moment was right, I went in for the kill so to speak and made a clean getaway. Or so I thought I did.


“Nice work petite, but dat can’ possibly fil your little belly, non?”


“Stay away from me. You work for him, leave me alone.” Trust no one, she thought over and over.


“Remy not work for no one but himself petite.”


“Stay away from me.” Just as she spoke those words the Hounds leapt towards their prey, knocking Remy out of the way.


“Oh no ya don’, leave her alone, Remy was talkin’ to da young fille an’ somet’in tells me petite here don’ wanna talk ta you.”


“Mommy, daddy, mommy, daddy, daddy, daddy…” I could not be strong all the time. Remy heard the low mummer that she emitted from her crouched position against the wall. Her hands were shutting out all sounds as she rocked her body in a to-and-fro motion caused by fear. She barely heard the man try to get her attention.


“Petite, listen to me. You have to get up and go. Can you hear me, chere?”


“Course she can’t hear you LeBeau. Hand her over and we won’t hurt you… much.” The voice was harsh and demonic.


“How da hell do you know my name?”


“Our master knows all about you, Remy LeBeau.”


“And who is dis master”


“The Shadow King”


“Not again, not again, not again…” She started a whole new chant.


He turned around and looked down at the child thief, she looked him straight in the eye and the chanting stopped. He couldn’t simply hand her over.


“Tell your master he can go ta hell.” He pulled a playing card from his inner breast pocket of his jacket and to Ororo’s amazement it glowed bright red. When he threw it, it explode sending the hounds that weren’t recoiling in pain. Remy grabbed Ororo in his arms and proceeded to run. Judging by her size, he expected to be as light as a feather. He was happy his judgment was right for a change. After he was sure that hey were on the clear he put Ororo down.


“Thank you for helping me, but I think I will be okay now.”


“Petite, are you crazy? Those t’ings be after you soon again. What will you do den? Come wit’ Gambit, he know a place where you can go.” She stood there debating.


“Chere, Gambit not gonna hurt you, he promise. What is your name anyway?”


“Ororo.”


“Ororo, eh? Well, dis Cajun be Remy LeBeau or you can call me Gambit.”


“So where is this place Remy?” He smiled at the use of his name.


Remy took me to the place where he dwelled and introduced me to Tante Matte and to his father Jean-Luc LeBeau. They were both warm yet cautious. Knowing Remy the way I do now, I suppose I understand why. He was beyond charming and soon became closer to than a brother. Two weeks went by without incident or sound of the Hounds. I did not doubt that they were out there but I was with Remy and he was all that mattered. We went out on heists together, usually after dinner. Tante Matte was adamant about my eating. She swore I was too thin and that she would fatten me up. That did not happen as she would have hoped but I did get fine meals out of the deal. One night, on one of our late nights, Remy asked me about the shadow king. He refused to press me about anything that happened until now.


“I worked for the Shadow King in Cairo. The capital of Egypt, not the Cairo in Illinois.” He laughed at my comments generally. He usually asked me if I was really twelve years old, because I knew too much for a twelve year old. If we only knew, literally.


“You be a smart one petite, but you are a long way from Cairo. What brings you ta N’Orleans?”


“I do not know how I got here. When I close my eyes at night I see people that I think I should know but I do not. I see a place, a big house, like a mansion and I feel as though I should know it somehow, but I do not. I am so confused. I also get feelings about things and I do not know how to explain it.”


“What kind of feeling?”


“Well, like, I know that tonight I feel the rain. Tonight it will rain.”


That nights mission went smoothly and we returned home I went to bed almost immediately. Remy laid beside me, with his armed thrown around me, my protector and before he fell asleep, he listened to the rain belt the windowpane. Looking down at the girl besides him, “you definitely not what you seem ta be, are ya petite?” he whispered, ending with a kiss placed at my temple.


My days with Remy were numbered because the Shadow King had a plan to get me back. While with Remy my memories returned slowly and so did my powers. It certainly made the jobs we went on easier. It was certainly easier from the homeowner to blame the shortage of their power on lightning than anything else. They never suspected they were burglarized until it was too late. Remy stayed by my side and I his, especially when the Hounds found us again. And then as if like a dream the X-men showed up ready to play hero. They have a habit of just appearing at the right time and sometimes at the wrong, but this was definitely a good time. Remy fought along side of us and he even returned to the X-mansion.


“Stormy? Is dis dat big house you were talkin’ ‘bout?” I laughed while grabbing his arm and guiding him in.


With my body restored, I was once again with Forge, but I did not notice the adjustment me in Remy. Certainly I was his sister still, as he was my brother but he did not look at me as he once did. I was not his little Stormy anymore. In the open I loathe that nickname, but secretly, I would not feel complete if Remy did not refer to me as his Stormy. It meant that I would always have that part of his heart and he would never let anything happen to me that he could have prevented. I loved him. I love him still. He was instantly tattooed to the list of my protectors, whether I liked it or not. He joined the X-men but not only for me I am sure. When he met Rogue, I guess he figured there was another reason worth staying around for. For whatever reason he decided to stay, I am happy that he did because we would come to need each other a lot.

…Continuation of Age 24-26

I said, “Yes” and he said, “No”.
I said, “Yes” and he said, “No”.
I said, “Yes” and he said, “No”.
I said, “Yes”…

It was a beautiful day but work around the mansion had to be done. I would have given anything to stop what I was doing and spend the day with Forge but what I needed to do not only affected me but the whole mansion on a whole and that was more important. He should have understood that, after all it is not as though what he was doing with the mansions security was trivial and obsolete. On the twenty-minute break I procured for myself I went to find him, to spend some time with him but he was with Cyclops re-sequencing security codes and he could not tear himself away. I went back to work to not think about it.
Later, I found his pet that he showed up with wondering the halls on the mansion. Mystique is, was and probably will always be a security risk

“Hey, Weather Witch, seen that boyfriend of yours lately?”

I was tired and irritated and that was the wrong thing to say. It was not completely what she said, it was how she said it. She was almost taunting me, like a child with a desirable new toy. Or like a kidnapper with a ransom note waiting to be satisfied. I was not conscious of my hand shooting out from its resting place at my side and grabbing her neck. My arm found an amazing power source to draw from because of its own volition it began to lift her off the floor.

“Ororo, have you gone mad?” Forge said while rushing from around the corner. “What the hell bought this on?”

“I just asked the bitch a question and she went psycho.”

“You may want to watch who you call names, you…”

“Ladies, please. Mystique would you please leave me with Ororo for a moment.”

“Sure, just watch your neck. The bitch is bound to strike again.”

I promised I would never use my powers to intentionally hurt another again but she was trespassing on my last nerve and I was dangerously close to slipping off the plane of sanity. But she left at his request, for which I was thankful for but also a little uneasy about. She just seemed a little too compliant with his requests in general. I wondered if I had any right to be suspicious, but if I had any sense then I should have been.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Ororo?

After those words jumped from his lips and slapped me, I do not remember things going so smoothly after that. We said a lot of things that we were feeling and clashed. It was ugly and frightening at the same time. It was the first time since our initial meeting that I have felt so much towards him, felt the good and the bad. Apparently he felt the same tumultuous combination because the next words the he spoke made time stand still.

“Ororo, marry me?”

“Wha…”

“Marry me.”

“But, what about my life here, as an X-man. I surely cannot abandon the hard work and fight we have been campaigning for.”

“Is this a dream that you believe in Windrider? Why can’t you live apart from this? What’re you afraid of?”

“How could you say such things? This is also the same fight you battle, all mutant kind for that matter. It is selfish to…”

“No, you are.” It sounded more like childish projection. The more he spoke, the more I felt like a child. “You’re being selfish, or maybe that’s it. You’re not being selfish and for once you need to be. Think about what you want for a change, Ororo.”

“I…I need some time.”

“Your wish is my command, but first…” He kissed me. It was…breathless, at least on the receiving end. It was as if he was taking the breath from my lungs and replacing it with his.

I needed to think. I needed to think and one place I found solace was on the roof. I knew if I truly wanted to be alone I would have gone to the Greenhouse. I needed to talk and I knew my brother would be on the roof, by the window leading towards the sky from my room.

“Eh, petite. Comment allez-vous?”

“Je suis tres confondre”

“First, you speak da language well, Padnat.”

“Thank you. I had an excellent teacher.” Well, Remy was an excellent teacher when he set his mind to it.

“Second, why are you confused?”

“Forge asked me to marry him.”

“Congrats Chere.”

“Do not thank me yet because I did not say that I would marry him. I have not given him an answer yet.”

“Why not Stormy? You love him don’ you?”

“Of course I love him, but he wants me to give up all that I know. My life here as an X-man would come to an end and I would become his wife permanently.”

“Gambit neva t’ink his Stormy ‘fraid of commitment. Are you sure dere not be somet’in’ else that keep you from your decision?”

“Maybe. Maybe there is. I think that I need some time alone. Thank you for listening.”

I gave Remy a feather-like kiss across his lips and went to a place I knew I could guarantee alone time. Not the greenhouse, because there is always the possibility of interruption. Instead, I went for a walk in the clouds. The sky was teetering on sunset and darkness, as was my decision. I thought hard about what Remy said about there possibly being another reason for my apprehension. From, the time I was a child, I have always done what men wanted, except for when I was worshipped as a goddess. I followed certain men throughout my life. They were very good men; Achmed, the professor, my father, but this would be a little different. I would be giving myself completely to one man. I had to let my heart decide because if I would have thought about it longer, I doubt I would have had the courage to answer him.

I went to his room but he was not there. I caught him as he was exiting the garage and he did not look so happy. His face had an expression I did not think would be associated with this moment. I loved him and was prepared to tell him yes but he cut me off and broke my heart with that one action. His works were not of love. One did not have to be a telepath or empathy to feel the range of rocky emotion excreting from his pores. I felt so small, like a child again. Correction, I do not think I felt that small even as a child, after all I had been through. I was going to say “Yes”, and he said “No.” A single tear threatened to expose itself as I dropped to my knees. He cut out my heart with little effort as I was prepared to hand it over completely and freely. Shivering, I shivered at the instant replay in my mind and released a piercing scream that reached most levels of the mansion. The only sound that rivaled it was the thunder I caused. I decided to join the lightning and rain. I made it rain. If that one tear that threatened to fall was the only bodily reaction I would have, then the heavens tears certainly made up for what my body lacked. I watched him leave with his pet and I saw her kiss him and he not reject. I wanted to strike him with lightning, I wanted to strike him really bad, but I thought that breaking the promise to myself would have been worse than what he did to me.

It took a long time to get over Forge and I barely did. I do not think I would have really if it was not for Remy’s concern and love and Charles’s fatherly projection, Jean’s sympathy and Logan’s honesty. He made restored a part of me that I thought was long gone. I found a part of myself in his eyes. It got to a point where I cared so much about the way he saw me. He was, he is a great friend and I do not know what I would have done without him.

My twenty-sixth birthday, I did not wish to celebrate. It had been a while since Forge, but I still had no desire to go out and join the rat race of the dating game. So there I sat in my loft, on my bed, reading “A Thousand and One Nights” under a dimmed light.

“Hey, Darlin’. Didn’t ya hear me knockin’?”

“No, I am sorry Logan. My mind has been else where lately.”

“S’Okay, I just wanted to drop this off.” He dropped a wrapped gift on my bed in front of my folded legs. The wrapping paper was a navy blue with silver snowflakes.

“Yeah, Sorry, I couldn’t find the right friggin’ wrappin’ paper.”

“No, Logan, do not apologize. I love it!”

“I thought you might. Oh, Well, enjoy.”

“Thank you very much dear friend.” I kissed his cheek before he left and returned my attention to the gift. The man known as Wolverine is very thoughtful, much more than he is given credit for.

That night I went to bed thinking about the kiss between us on my twenty-first birthday. It inspired so much in me. My thoughts were like poetry when it came to that, so much so that I had to write them down. I have it vividly memorized.

It went something like,

Kisses are stains on your lips that you hope to never be rid of. The thought of his kiss burns me inside out. My lips tingle with internal heat and they pulse like a drumbeat. I am sure he could hear my heartbeat. I could feel it pulsing with anticipation behind the cage of my ribs. I close my eyes and I see that moment replay itself. Our head tilted to their respective rights, the heat, the energy could be felt just inches away. The warm air of you breath invading my space and invading my senses. Your lips against mine, soft and chaste, yet, the friction sent my nerves in all directions changing the momentum of how it feels. Soft and chaste is no longer soft and chaste but now passionate and uncompromising. I feel you part your lips against mine and I comply, allowing you access to my mouth completely. Ravaging and ravishing you were as you reveled in the accepted territory of my parted lips. There was passing tongues aggressively exploring each other and yet there still was a calm temperance that kept us together yet at bay. Our clothed chests were pressed together but my body had betrayed me long ago.

It was just a kiss but I felt so much. That thought helped me to sleep and it forced me to see another level to Logan that I did not have the option of seeing. It was something that was definitely worth exploring.

Age: 26-29


It was too beautiful to wear everyday but it would have been a waste to have left it untouched in its jewelry case, so I opted to wear it on special occasions and just when I had the need to feel it on my person and or to feel special, as Logan had a habit of making me feel. Of course, I should be clear as to what I speak of. I mean the birthday gift that Logan unceremoniously gave to me. It was a necklace, well a beautiful, real sterling silver chain with a snowflake charm. On the tips of the snowflake there were sapphire chips and in the core of the snowflake was a diamond. It had to have cost him a small fortune. I had to thank him immediately, but no ordinary word of thanks would suffice the feeling he had erupted in me.

I put it on immediately hoping that it would give me incite as to how to thank him. It is silly to put so much stock into a single possession but every now and then a goddess is allowed to experience humanity, is she not? Pacing the floor of my loft in bare feet, I found myself perplexed and contagiously happy. How is it that a man that is known for his bravado and killer temper can make me grin like a Cheshire cat well fed on catnip? Damn him for this ability and damn me for feeling it so strongly.

“That is it!” It was as if the snowflake caused an epiphany.

I busied myself with numerous phone calls until my task was done. It took three days but all the paper work was complete and everything was paid for. Now all I had to do was convince him to accompany me. So I went on a Wolverine hunt and found him in the gym practicing Tai Chi. The lights were low and it almost seemed like there was a spotlight directly on him. His movements were methodically slow and circular, he was hypnotizing and captivating, I did not wish to interrupt, sort of.

“So now ya do the voyeur thing, eh ‘Ro?”

“Go pack a bag Logan.” I said catching him in mid stride.

“Come again?”

“Go pack a bag Logan. You are coming with me.” I repeated trying not to laugh at myself or at his expression.

“What? Chuck didn’t do the mind thing, so this can’t be a mission.”

“It is a mission of sorts, a personal mission.”

“Personal, eh? What’re you up to Snowflake?” Caught off guard, I was so caught off guard. It was the first time he used that name. It was unexpected.

“Snowflake?”

“Yeah… Snowflake. Ya gotta problem with that? What’re ya gonna tell me, ‘Do not call me that’, like ya do that Cajun kid when he calls ya Stormy? I know ya like it. I could smell it on ya.” Logan always has some mystical revelation that is proved through his nose. Irritating, but I love it. I had to laugh.

“Pack a bag and meet me in the hanger in an hour.” With that said for the third time, I left and prayed to the Goddess herself that he would adhere to my command.

An hour later, there I was standing in the hanger. The mini-jet was fueled and stocked with the need supplies, enough supplies to last three weeks in fact. There I was and where was he? There I was and where was he? I started to doubt he would show. Fifteen minutes later my face was buried in my hands thinking, “What the hell did I think I was doing?”

“What’re ya doin’ sittin’ there darlin’? I’m ready, where we goin’?” He said while walking past me to board the plane. Stunned I was, to say the least. I sound like Yoda.

Half hour into the flight…

“So where we goin’?”

“It is a surprise.”

“I trust ya Snowflake,” was the last thing that he said before closing his eyes. He did not have the chance to witness a smile creeping on my face, but I am more than positive he knew it was there.

Putting the jet on autopilot, I had a chance to glimpse at his sleeping form. “He is beautiful.” I had no clue as to where that thought came from. I know I thought him to be attractive but I was looking forward to seeing much more of him as he was, sleeping.

Sometime later, I found a place where we could land.

“We are here, Logan.”

“Huh, what?”

“We have landed at our destination.”

Exiting the plane, we had our bags in our hands and as for the rest of the supplies, I wanted to wait until we really reached our destination.

“This place smells familiar, it feels familiar. Canada?

“Yes.”

“Darlin’, what the hell are we doin’ here?”

“This was my way of saying thank you for my birthday gift. I doubt I can ever really repay you for something so beautiful but this was a start.”

“What exactly is this?”

“Look over there, behind those trees.”

“It’s a cabin.”

“Well, you are certainly perceptive, but to be exact this is your cabin. Yours to do whatever you wish to do with. I remembered long ago that you mentioned you once had a cabin here in Canada but then you learned that it could have been a false memory. Well, now you have a cabin here in Canada to make new memories whenever you want.”

He was speechless.

“What, no retort or witty comebacks?”

Logan, the Wolverine, was speechless.

The area was breathtaking and the cabin was homey. It was two-story log cabin with three bedrooms each equipped with a bathroom. Downstairs there was a kitchen and living area. I am not sure if this was more for me or for him but he loved it none-the-less.

I did it for him, there is no doubt.




He instructed me on chopping wood and tending to a fireplace. He was so at home there and it made me happy and comfortable. We took care of each other. When he grew frustrated with small tasks I was there to ease him through it before they well prey to his rage. If the slightest part of me felt tense, he would massage the tension into submission. Although my body temperature regulates itself, he thought I did not dress for the weather, so he allowed me to wear his flannel shirts. “It looks good on you.” It felt good. It smelled like him.

That first week, I would lay on the sofa and he would sit on the floor. There we were staring into the fire and talking. He talked about Paris and Japan. Mariko and Yukio. We talked for so long I would fall asleep on the sofa and wake up in bed. By the second week, I would fall asleep with my head in his lap and wake up in my bed in my nightclothes.

We learned so much about each other in those few weeks. We especially learned that there was a love between us that was unlike any other. He shared with me so much, especially all that he could remember. Nothing meant more to me at that moment then his confessions.

“Thank you Ororo.”

“What was that Logan?”

“I said thank you. Thank you for everything. This cabin, this time that we’ve been spendin’ together…” I knew he was not done, “the fact that you love me.” My eyes were wide in surprise at his revelation. How the hell did he know?

“Wha…how…”

“I could smell it on ya, darlin’. It smells sweet.” Making use of the silence, I turned to him kissed him. I initiated it this time.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought!” He laughed. Settling in his arms I leaned my head on his shoulder. “I knew ya loved me, but that’s okay ‘cause I love ya too, Snowflake.”

Hating to ruin the mood with more talking, “How long have you been wanting to call me Snowflake?” All he could to do was laugh, it was a welcomed sound.

“Honestly Logan, how long have you wanted to give me this necklace? You are not the type to do something, for lack of a better phrase, half-assed. You planned this. How long ago? How long have you loved me? Why did you not stop Forge?”

“You’re right, I did have it planned a long time ago. It jus’ never seemed like there was a right time to give it to ya. When the whole thing with Forge started I thought I missed my chance. You could also say it was love at first sight.”

“Logan when we first met I was nude.”

“Well, at least I knew I was physically attracted to you.” I blushed while he laughed and then things turned serious again.

“Darlin’, uh, there is somethin’ I need ta tell ya. It’s about Forge. You may be happy, you may not.”

“What is it?” I asked him face to face.

“The night he left with Mystique…”

“You can say it. I am not fragile. The night he proposed and then retracted it.”

“Yeah, well, that night. I talked to him before he left…sort of.” He mumbled the last part.

“Talked…sort of? Really, you ‘Talked’ to him for me?” I asked with a raised eyebrow fully aware what he meant by ‘talked’.

“Well, it ain’t like he walked away needin’ another bionic limb.”

“Is that all?”

“Well, no. Don’t get mad at me for this, ‘cause I only slightly feel bad about it.”

“What, what did you do?”

“I slapped that stupid bitch.”

“Logan!”

“Hey, I know hittin’ women ain’t cool, but she soooo had it comin’”

“It is not that. It was your choice of words.”

“’Ro, you’re a real piece of work!”

By the third week, I would fall asleep in his arms and would wake up with him by my side…devoid of clothing. It was wonderful to feel him, literally. We did not have to have sex. He nor I had a nightmare once during our stay and neither of us wanted to go back.

“How about we don’t go back, yet. I wanna spend more time wit’ ya first. A relationship in the mansion ain’t easy. We get wrapped up in shit and stuff gets in the way and…aw, you know ‘Ro.

He could be quite persuasive when he wanted to be, especially when his hand teased places he wanted to get to know.



He wanted to be candid in our relationship and he wanted to know everything about me. He knew so much already and I was not sure I wanted him to know everything about me. That would have required that I let down all defenses. Logan loved me and if he was willing, he of all people, to let down his guard and give himself completely to me, then I had to reciprocate, not out of obligation, but out of total and complete respect and love. So we talked for hours and hours on end. He wanted to know everything that our friendship did not allow and his nose could not detect. I swear sometimes that man is like a human bloodhound.

“So Snowflake, what haven’t we talked ‘bout yet?”

“Good question although I am positive we have not covered everything.”

“Sex.” Was he expecting it? Why did that single word have so much power coming from his mouth?

“Excuse me?”

“That’s one thing we haven’t talked ‘bout yet.”

“There is a reason for that love,” I said while making myself comfortable in his lap. “I do not think it is humanly possible to know everything about a person. But, I also think that if we learn everything tonight we limit the things that we have to look forward to.”

“Oh yeah? And what do we have to look forward to?”

“What the future holds, self-evolution, and this…”

A kiss to his pulse under his earlobe…

“And this…”

A kiss next to the corner of his left eye…

“And this…”

The ultimate act of trust, a kiss to knuckles…

“And finally this…”

A to kiss claim his lips. That is right, I used a word Logan would more than likely use. Claim. I staked a claim on what was mine. Mine. But that is how I felt, possessive. We belonged together and it was finally realized by both parties, he and I. To hell with what anyone else thought, except Remy or Charles. I never outright asked what they thought but in some way, it did matter to me that they approved. Although if they did not, Logan and I still would be as we are now, both refusing to give up something so good.

We engulfed each other on my bed, on top of my sheets. Sex was not going to be had that night, but then again I doubt that Logan and I would ever just have sex. Sex would be too easy. He… we were much more intense. I was content with having him nuzzle my neck and wrap his arms around me as I felt his chest rise and fall into sleep. Occasionally during the night I awoke to a wandering hand but… well, let us just keep it as but.



A month and a half and we both returned to the mansion refreshed and prepared to get back into routine. We kept the relationship to ourselves for a while, but gradually people noticed. They noticed when Logan stopped making advances towards Jean and how he elected to help me in the greenhouse. He was calmer than usually, although he still called Scott a dick amongst other things. Days evolved into years and we still loved each other. What I had with Logan was stronger than anything I had with Forge. I know what it is like to feel like a woman, a leader, respected and loved and when we consummated our relationship I felt physically capable of anything that would ever come my way.

It happened on a rare night when the mansion was completely empty. Scott and Jean were away on a little vacation. Remy wanted alone time away from Rogue. Rogue wanted a ‘down home’ experience. The Professor was with Hank at a conference on Genetics. Everyone else just thought it was going to be a drag around the mansion with so many people gone that they just disappeared. I cannot complain. That left me with Logan. The night was young, and so were we…well, I was for that matter. (Insert laugh here).

“So what do you want to get into tonight, Logan?”

“That’s a loaded question, Darlin’.”

“Oh, you! I meant what do you want to do tonight?”

“Darlin’, you’re really makin’ it way too easy.”

“Humph! Well, while you continue with the sexual innuendos in that thick skull of yours, I am going to watch a movie.”

I found myself in the Rec Room and watching ‘Interview With The Vampire’ for the millionth time. One would think after my stint with Dracula my fascination would have ended. Louis and Lestat had just given birth to Claudia when I could no longer see.

“Logan what are you doing?”

“’Ro,” he warned, “Don’t ya dare touch that blindfold!” It sounded more like a snarl so I opted to listen.

“Do ya trust me darlin’?”

“Y...yes.”

“You hesitated. Do ya really trust me Snowflake?”

“I gave you my heart. I trust you AB-SO-LUTE-LY.”

“That’s good.”

He took my arm and began our walk. In bare feet we walked to where I could only guess was towards the lake. With my eyes covered, I had to use my other senses. I could smells the water, feel the cool breeze from the water and under my feet I felt the leaves and small branches. We made our destination and he sat me down.

“Take it off.”

“That was a loaded statement!” Turnabout was fair play!

“Funny, ‘Ro. Blindfold off. All other items come later.”

I knew I was sitting on a blanket but before me was a lovely candle lit dinner.

“Logan, this is beautiful, but we could have done this in the mansion.”

“I reserve the mansion for other purposes.” He winks.

After dinner, we sat there content in his arms… for a while. His hands gave themselves permission to roam from my waist to under my shirt. He grabbed my breast and I grabbed his thighs. My breast, to him seemed like a source of life and to me his thighs were a source of power. To every action there is an equal reaction and we proved that true that night. He put his hot mouth on my cool neck. I was prey to his vampire. He nicked the skin and tasted my blood. There was something feral and erotic about it. No this was not going to be just sex.

Slowly we made it back to the mansion, still clothed. We entered through the kitchen and I found myself on the counter and my shirt being shredded from my back. That mouth of his certainly does some wonderful things. If I am correct, we left his shirt lodged between the door of the kitchen and the hall to the Rec room. In the Rec room we left my pants and on the stairs to the loft we left his.

What I experienced with Logan that night I have never felt before. With T’Challa, it was not love and it was not like this with Forge either. We were wrapped in each other mentally and physically. He paid attention to every detail. He learned that running his fingertips down my spine elicited a moan from deep in my throat. When I clench my legs tight around him, he growled something guttural. His kisses on my inner thigh causes dark clouds, his tongue on the button of the juncture of my thighs causes lightning. When I swallow him whole he thrashes wildly. But there is nothing like when we join. Sometimes it is like two wild animals unwilling to relinquish control to the other. Other times, one of us is willing to submit to the other. But this all gave way to a peaceful nights sleep after the rainstorm and the thunder.

The next day we were wrapped in each other and it was no longer morning.

“Um, love, what time is it?”

“Don’t know Snowy.”

“Do not dare call me that. Snowflake yes, Snowy no.”

“Okay Snowball.”

“Damn you!” I said jabbing him in his side.

“You love it. Oh, it’s 3.” I shot up in bed.

“3? As in 3 in the afternoon? Shit, shit, shit.”

“Ororo, Such profanity.”

“Damn the jokes Logan. Charles and Hank will be back any moment and our clothes are thrown all over the place. They will surely know what we did and where we did it. I am sure the Rec room is a wreck.” By the time I finished that sentence I was partially dressed.

“Alright darlin’. I’ll be down in a moment. I need to go get some clothes.”

I made my way down the steps and gathered the extra clothes hoping that the Professor and Hank was not back yet. Heading down the stairs with my arms full, my hopes were confirmed, I was wrong. I heard a throat clear and I turned around. Charles was sitting there with my pants, shredded shirt and Logan’s shirt in his lap.

Mortified. I was mortified. For a person of my hue, I learned that turning red was not impossible.

“I do believe that these belong to you and this,” holding up Logan’s shirt, “belongs to Logan.”

Just then we turned and saw Logan walking down the stairs. He uttered the one word I was thinking.

“BUSTED!”

I was soooooooo mortified. Maybe the Professor and Hank will keep this between us. Just then Remy walked through the door.

“Damn, What’d Remy miss?!”

Age: 29-30


To be 29 and have a sex life in the mansion of genetically mutated Homo sapiens is almost inconceivable. I say almost because it is manageable, providing the timing. I was mortified as the professor sat there with our carelessly discarded clothes from the night before. How could I have been so impulsive? That is an easy answer; I was with a man who brought out my animal instinct. I loved it. But what I did not love was the shrinking feeling I was slapped with under Xavier’s stare and the undeniable evidence in his lap. I have always felt like his daughter but this was unreal! I was now the daughter who was caught with her boyfriend in a compromising position.

There Logan stood, on the stairs, with a grin on his face. That grin was discontinued as Remy walked through the front door. Assessing the situation almost instantly.

“Good for you Stormy!” he said while kissing my cheek. He headed towards the stair and past Logan and not a word was said between for their eyes held the entire conversation. I almost expected a showdown at sunset.

All day I was waiting for the professor to call me to his office and tell me how irresponsible I was and to basically reprimand me for my behavior. I should have known better. But that never happened. I may be mistaken but I believe I heard him snickering at one point through our mind link.

Things quieted down about that incident. Occasionally I would feel a glance from the professor or from Remy but it was them looking out for me, something I was now accustomed to. Sometimes I think they elevate me so high I can barely live up to their standards. Logan is not only worthy of me but I am fortunate to have him. He understands nature, human nature. He understands me, he may not know everything but we are all afforded our little inner truths.

Our days are filled with things to keep us busy. There are the conferences on Mutant Rights, the leisure time, Systems Checks, Missions, Security checks, team meetings and such things. Our nights are filled with tossed, sweaty sheets or making ripples in the lake. This in no way cuts my time with Remy. We still engage in our late night talks on the roof, occasionally joined my Logan. We have a non-sexual threesome. An understanding. There are nights when Remy cannot sleep and he lays by my side. Being that Logan is sometimes present, they have learned a great deal about each other.

To an outside person the situation may seem perverse: my tendency to have two men in my bed, but it is nothing of the sort. One is my lover, the other my brother. I felt protected. Things gradually changed. Remy frequented my bed less and less, leaving the nights solely for Logan and I. But there are still times that I may wake up in an empty bed and find them talking on the roof.

On such night I awoke to the combined smoke of a cigarette and one of a cigar. Their banter held low and barely audible in the humid night. It was so humid that their words literally hung in the air. I made my way to the roof and it seemed they quieted instantly. Curiously, I raised an eyebrow.

“I sense a conspiracy.”

“Non, Chere, no conspiracy. The Cannuck and I jus’ talkin’ man t’ings. Mostly ‘bout you.”

“Yeah? what was said about me?”

“You know, man stuff.”

“I do not think I like where this conversation is headed therefore I think I will make my way down to the kitchen. Want anything?”

“No. T’anks, Stormy.”

“No ‘Ro, just hurry back,” he said with a pat on my ass. As I was heading down they started to talk again.

“So mon amie, you t’ink you really, really ready ta make you an’ Stormy legal?”

“Yeah, Cajun, I say it’s ‘bout time. Maybe we could st…”

By that point I was out of range and as giddy as an innocent child. He was going to ask me to marry him and I was so happy. But then realization set in. He was going to ask me to marry him. I have traveled the path of proposal before and it did not work out, and ultimately left me broken… temporarily. I loved him and he was no Forge. Definitely not a Forge. If Remy is Casanova, then Logan is Don Juan. He was the missing link to my mystery and the kindling to my fire. I was the reason to his rage. There was no way after knowing something so grand with him that I could do without it. I would marry him. He just had to ask.

The next day after his conversation with Remy on the roof had come and gone and still he not asked. I figured he was not ready yet. I would give him time. After all, I am patient. A week passed and then two, three, a month. I could not take it anymore. I wanted this so bad and my patience had become anorexic. I had to find him. Finding him was not hard at all. He was in the garage with Scott, Remy, Warren, Bishop and Robert working on a vehicle that they seems to never wanted to finish because it was the one area where they would all agree and did the male-bonding they were accused of never taking part in.

I pushed through the dual-swing door and caught their attention immediately.

“Is somethin’ wrong, petite?”

“N…no,” I stuttered, “Well, yes there is.”

“What is it Ororo?” That was Scott, jumping straight into Leader mode. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yes, Scott. All is well except with you.” I said pointed accusingly at Logan.

“Me? What the fuck did I do or didn’t do?”

The winds started to shift and whipped my hair around; my eyes lost their hue.

“She’s pissed!”

“I agree wit’ future cop on dis one mon amie. I ‘ate to be you righ’ now.”

“You want to know what the fuck you did.”

“Stormy, you said the F word.” That earned Robert a lightning bolt to the tool in his hand. I knew he would not speak again until warranted.

“For the past month I have waited patiently and now my patience has worn very thin, therefore I am taking matter into my own hands. We will be married next Autumn.”

That comment raised eyebrows and stunned silence. Logan made his way to me and proceeded carefully to wrap his arms around me.

“Sure Snowflake. I’ll marry ya.”

“In case you are unsure as to what I said, it was not in the form of a question.”

“Your wish is my command. I’ve been meanin’ ta ask you but I had ta find the right time and… Shit, you know me “Ro. I was gonna ask ya but…”

“But you didn’t. You were stringing along this poor woman for weeks.”

“If I were you Warren, I’d shut up before he clips your wings and she fries them,” Scott said. The men laughed and thinking about that moment, it was very funny.

“Now with that said, I feel better. And…”

“And what Darlin’?”

“I think I am going to pass out now.” I did just that.


* * *


The wedding was the most emotional day of my life to date since the death of my parents. I will never again experience going from hot to cold, happy to sad, nervousness to elation in a few seconds time. If it was not for the pictures I wonder if I would remember ever wearing a white strapless gown that had an embroidered blue pattern like those on the tapestries that hang in the Cloisters from the middle ages. The letters of our first name were embroidered on the back and joined by a knot. Just like on the tapestries. The nobles would take the letter of their name and the name of their love and join them with a knot. The dress lined the length of my legs to graze the floor and inch past my toes. The bridesmaids wore navy and the length of their dresses were of a similar nature.

I remember that Charles walked me down the isle. I suppose the word floating would do better in reference to him. We took our time down the isle and enjoyed a mental conversation.

“I am proud to have you as a daughter, Ororo. You have bought me nothing but joy as you grew into the lovely woman you are now. Thank you for the privilege.”

“I should be thanking you, Charles. Without all you have done I do not know where I would be right now. I know I would not be looking at one of the most handsome men I have ever known.”

“Why thank you.” He can be such the comedian when unexpected. “I know you meant Logan. I could not resist.” It was good to hear him laugh. “You two will have beautiful children. I just hope they are not conceived on the kitchen counter.”

My heart could have stopped right there because I was sure that it missed a beat. He was teasing me I know but that event was so mortifying. There he sat with our clothing in his lap. “Busted, busted, busted!”

By the time I got my thoughts truly focused on the event, we were already at the alter, arms intertwined with Logan’s and Charles was acquiescing to giving me away. From there on things were set in a normal pace, except for the beating of my stomach. I am not quite sure that it should have been beating to begin with, but it was. We spoke the words we were beckoned to but with emotion that could not be directed.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You ma…”The kissing of the bride was well taken care of.

As the best man, Remy made a toast. If roughly boiled down to, “If you do anyt’ing ta eva ‘urt Stormy, you be a dead man. No ‘ealin’ factor gonna bring you back from da level of dead you’d be, homme.” Goddess I am happy that they are friends. The Professor seconded that motion. It was definitely a comedic night for him. Everyone was in such good spirits. Logan and I danced together to a song that I allowed him to choose. I told him the song must come from his heart. I was almost expecting to hear ‘Born To be Wild’, not that I would dance to that anyway. But he came through as always. What most do not know about Logan is that he is a closet Michael Jackson fan. He may call him a flamin’ Nancy-boy in public and may never attend his concert, but he likes his music. I do not think I would know if it was not for me catching him dancing in the mirror to ‘BAD’. May that sight never be tainted. He chose a song from Mr. Jackson’s latest album ‘Invincible’, ‘You are My Life’.


Once all alone
I was lost in a world of strangers
No one to trust
On my own, I was lonely
You suddenly appeared
It was cloudy before, now it’s all clear
You took away the fear
You brought me back to life


We were so close it was hard to tell where I began and he ended. I took in all that he was, inhaled him as I placed my head on his chest. His face buried in my neck, I felt his breath as I listened to him croon the words in my ear.


Chorus
You are the sun
You make me shine
Or more like the stars
That twinkle at night
You are the moon
That glows in my heart
You’re my daytime, my nighttime
My world
You are my life


Now I wake up everyday
With this smile upon my face
No more tears, no more pain
‘Cause you love me
You help me understand
That love is the answer to all that I am
And I’m a better man
You taught me by sharing your life

Chorus

You gave me strength
When I wasn’t strong
You gave me hope when all hope was lost
You opened my eyes when I couldn’t see
Love was always here waiting for me

This song was from his heart. He obviously put every inch of himself into this selection; one would think that Michael wrote this song just for Logan, as if they were personal friends.

“There is a song that I wanted to save for later. It is meant for you and I wanted to wait until we were alone.”

“Don’t worry darlin’ when were alone, you’ll be singin’ a whole new tune.”


* * *


Logan and I departed before the ceremony was over. I would have stayed to the end but at the insistence of Jean and the others, I was to go and quote “Wear out that new husband of mine” unquote. Logan and I left for Cumberland Island, the honeymoon a gift from Warren and Elizabeth. We stayed at Warren’s private house on the beach. He said it has not been used in a long time and we should make use of it. We walked in and instantly admired our surroundings.

“The kid’s definitely got taste.”

“Yes, he does.”

“But I’d rather taste you right now, Snowflake” His penetrating stare is as usual, unbreakable and he knows the way he drags his tongue over his canines drive me wild. Drawing me closer he kissed the hollow part of my throat and then my lips. He released his suctioning of my tongue to tell me I tasted of wine, chocolate and strawberries. I smelled of his favorite scent, lust/love, mixed in with Victoria’s Secret ‘Love Spell’. Most importantly I felt as soft as baby lotion. Until recently I never pictured Logan to be anywhere near a baby, to let alone know what baby lotion felt like.

He tasted like a man, a meat and potatoes kind of man. He was certainly edible by my standards and he knew that by the gentle nips to his bottom lip and the way I captured it between my teeth and lingered over it. There was only one thing I asked of him for the evening. He must keep his claws sheathed. If one thread came out of place, he would become a human conductor for lightning. Hi cool hands on my heated skin as he unzipped, untied and unfastened was sugar to a child, I wanted more. Thankfully he accommodated me.

The rest of the night shifted from gentle to intense reckless abandon. We are seriously going to have to apologize to Warren for one or two things. We found ourselves in bed, finally. I leaned on the headboard cushioned by a harem of pillows. There Logan laid between my naked thighs, with his head against my breast, one arm around my waist and one hand stroking my quad.

“Sing ta me, please Mrs. Logan.” Although he identifies with a single name, I did keep my last name, but he likes to call me by his name and I like it. Like the song we danced to, this was very modern and from my heart. I heard Jean play it once and I fell in love with it instantly.


It’s the only explanation
To the question at hand
Like years of pain gone away
In a single day
There’s nothing that compares
To the way
You make me feel inside
And I’m so glad you’re my…


Chorus
Prince charming, my angel
My king, and my friend
My lover, my one
He is, he is
The beat in my heart
The kiss on my lips
My lover, my one
He is, he is


I smoothed his sweat-slicked hair back, as to not irritate him. He would purr and I could continue to pet him. If I ever thought of him as an animal, it was because he was mine. He is mine and I like those animal noises he makes.


They could take away the money
My fortune and fame
But as long as you stay
Here with me
I would be OK
I look at you
And I see me
Just reflections of the love you made with me
And I’m so glad you want to be my…


Chorus


Bridge
My sun, my shine
My heart, my mind
He is everything
I gotta love you like no one has ever loved before
I gotta give you what you gave baby so much more
I wanna take it fast, but I want to take it slow
Addicted to your love and I can’t let go


Chorus


“Sure hope you were singin’ ‘bout me.”

Our honeymoon continued in much of the same fashion. Walks on the beach, making love under the stars, swimming, sex against a tree or two, watching the wild horses roam, animalistic copulation, serenades followed by the roughest love-making ever. It is amazing that either of us remembered food was a necessity or that I could walk. Then the day came to leave. It was a shame to leave such a paradise.

Within a month of returning to the mansion, he was well moved into the loft and I was pregnant. Although it could be said that Logan and I were together in one way or another for a very long time, it felt a little soon to have a child. The fears began to control me. I did not know if Logan was truly ready to be a father and I was so worried about being a mother. I know at one point Katherine and even Jubilation were, are like daughters to me but I did not raise them completely. I lost my mother at such a young age and I can barely remember what it was like to have a mother. I remember some things, even the smallest things but often they do not seem like enough to guide me in raising my very own child. How do I know when a baby, my baby needs to be fed or when he or she wants to play, needs to be changed. I am pretty sure I will know when the baby needs to be changed, but it was things along those lines that I stressed about. I had no clue as to what I was going to do.

Age 31


Mother, I am going to be a mother and I do not know how to be a mother. What kind of mother will I be? How do I discipline my child? Do I discipline my child at all or leave it up to Logan? I would not want to break his or her spirit completely. I believe every child should know a certain amount of discipline but should also be allowed to express his or herself as long as they do not pose too much of a threat to anyone else or inflict serious harm on themselves. I guess that I talked myself out of one fear but what about al the others. They were handled, with grace, moodiness, and all that is expected from a pregnant woman.

The first trimester:

The initial shock of finding out that I was pregnant faded and that just left telling Logan. I was not quite sure on how to tell him. Maybe I should let him sniff it out. I am sure that he does not currently know. I figured it was best to tell him over dinner at one of my favorite restaurants. It helps that he likes the place too. That night we went to the city just for a change of pace.

“So, snowflake, are ya gonna tell me why ya dragged me to the city?”

“I though you liked the city.”

“I do darlin’ but it obvious that something is bothering ya. So what is it?”

“There is something that I must tell you.”

“What? Let me guess. Umm…you are pregnant?”

“Actually, yes that is it.”

“Ya don’t say!”

“You knew? How could you know and not say anything?”

“Wasn’t easy darlin’. I wanted to wait until you told me in your own way. I’ve been sitting on this for a while and I thought I was gonna bust before ya told me. I wanted to scream to everyone, “’She’s having my kid! Mine!’”

“Very possessive, are we not?”

“You know it darlin, even more so now, you’re having our kid.”

He started to chant, “she’s having my kid, having my baby” in his head but she knew he was really ecstatic when he started to tap a beat on the table. She could suppress her smile, but she had to suppress that sound because it was drawing attention to them.

“Relax, love. This will not be our last.”

“Are kiddin’ me? Of course it ain’t gonna be our last!”

***

The ride home was one not filled with silence.

“So, if it’s a girl what do ya wanna name her? How about if it’s a boy? Is the crib in our room? What if the kid is a mutant like us? What if one of my enemies comes after my family?”

His questions went from mild to spicy in seconds and his anger at the last question caused him to grip the wheel a little tighter. Ororo placed her hand over his, as she did in the restaurant.

“Dearest, as far as names go, they can wait, we have time. That also goes for where we will set up a nursery. We know that our child has a great chance of being a mutant because we both possess the X-gene, but there is the chance that they will not be, either way, it does not change our feelings about our child or children, ever. As far as enemies,” she exhaled a deep breath “both you and I have accumulated a series unwanted admirers, many unwanted admirers, but I think that you and I and a home full of aunts and uncles can deal with that problem.”

“Seriously, ‘Ro. We can barely handle it when we are kidnapped. That Zero Tolerance shit was fuckin’ ridiculous! If I ever get my hands on Bastion, I will open my claws in his ass and laugh while I’m doin’ it!”

“Back on topic, please. And, yes, I know what you mean. We are often in tight spots and I wonder if it is fair that I should bring a child into this world. But then I think that if I wait too long, then that time will have come and gone and I shall never know the happiness that I already feel. We cannot wait for others, Logan. We are to live life now and not wait.”

***

Because the first trimester is the most crucial, Ororo stopped going on missions, so that meant that she would have to find things to keep her busy. In the beginning it was easy. She would prepare the medlab just incase those who went on the missions needed it. Every instrument was sterilized. By the second trimester it got to the point where she’d sterilize the entire room from top to bottom, left to right, under, over, and in between.

Ororo spent hours working on her garden until the weather started to get hotter. She never had to deal with a change in body temperature because controlling the weather kept her naturally regulated. She hasn’t really felt the heat or the cold since she was a child, before she became the weather-toting goddess; she only played the part for the public by wearing coats and such apparel. Where she used to take solace in leaning over a flowerbed to work, she now dreaded the thought of falling down and not being able to get back up.

Well, since she had the time Ororo figured she’d take up something new like art. At night while she laid in bed waiting for Logan to return, she’d place the 18X24 sketchpad as high on her lap as she could get it without straining to reach over her still forming stomach. She’d start with a basic shape, something simple like a circle or a square.

“Piece of cake” she said triumphantly. “Screw this, I think I am ready for portraits.”

Following the standard outline for drawing a face, she attempted to draw Logan from memory since he was not by her side. Her tongue peeping form the corner of her mouth was a sign that she was in sheer concentration. When Logan returned to their room to go to bed he could smell the pencil shavings and the well-used eraser.

“What’cha doodlin’ now, ‘Ro?”

“A portrait of you actually. Wanna see?”

“Sure, darlin’” It took one look at it before he was on the floor.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA…” His thunderous laughter caused her to stare at him, but not with a look of amusement. There was no way she was going to join in on his unending fit. She then did the one thing that even he rarely seen her do.

“What the hell?!” he thought.

“’Ro, stop that.” One tear…

“I didn’t mean…” Few more tears…

“I was just…” And army of salty soldiers marched down her face at rapid speed.

“Don’t touch me you insensitive bastard! I don’t care if I ever see you again. Get the fuck out!” Trying to comfort her was not an option.

He reached for a pillow but instead a lightning bolt reached it first. “Just Go!” she said through clenched teeth.

”Damn mood swings. She must really be po’d if she’s usin’ contractions and swearing. Damn what’d I do? Maybe Gumbo’s still up. That’s his sister. I ain’t doin’ this alone.”

Searching for Gambit wasn’t a problem. He just followed the direction of those funny French cigarettes he imports.

“T’ought you were goin’ t’ bed, homme?”

“Me too until “Ro tried t’ fry me!”

“Pregnant women be crazy, homme, but what ever y’ did, don’ bring Remy inta it. I jus’ got back in chere’s good graces ‘gain.”

“Y’ know Gumbo, I still don’ know what y’ did.”

“Well, I was on da roof and Stormy heard some noises…”

“Stop right there. I don’ wanna know anymore than that!”

“Yeah, whateva, homme. Where you gonn’ sleep t’night?”

“My old room.”

About 2am, after he had gone to bed he was visited by his wife. He had expected her to come see him eventually. He was expecting her to snuggle under him, but what he did not expect was to be drowned by a storm cloud over his head.

“What the flamin’ hell?”

“I waited for you to come back and you left me up there all alone. I thought that maybe you ran away again.” She was torn to tears again and he hated to see her cry.

He was now fully awake and looked much like a drowned rat. He took off his wet shirt and embraced Ororo. No more words were needed because if he did say something chances are it would have been the wrong thing. He couldn’t say, “But, you told me t’ go away! You called me an insensitive bastard!” Saying either of those things would have resulted in him being a human conductor.


***

The third trimester was about as turbulent as the second but more so. I was hungry all the time. I do not think I ever left the kitchen except to sleep and to go on that mandatory walk Hank instructed. He said that it was good if I went for walks, but not for too long or too far. What business did o have walking? I felt like roast ready to go **pop**. A roast actually sounded good at the time. That is another thing that set off changes. That baby turned me into a carnivore again. I made a conscious effort to fully convert to vegetarianism, but the baby wanted steak! This was definitely Logan’s child. There was no getting around it. There were times I thought my body would start to hurl itself involuntarily because the baby’s movements were sporadic. This baby had his strength already and would not let me sleep.

Nights were wasted tossing and turning. I paced the bedroom, I was reluctant to fly at that point, but I did take full advantage of the hot tub. The hot tub usually put me to sleep. Logan often stuck around often to make sure that I did not drown myself. What a morbid thought and a horrible way to go. Oh well.

Time was drawing near and I was just a few weeks away from having my body back. I do not think that I have ever really been vain but I would like to have my body back to where I could see my feet again. I have considered being absolutely honest within the confines of this journal, but if anyone should ever read this passage, I would be mortified.

My water broke two days before I went into labor. There is a reason why I did not notice, it was because I had to go to the bathroom for the millionth time and this time around, I strained when I should not have. If taking a shit while pregnant were easy at this point, it would not have happened.

My water broke on a Tuesday, I gave birth on a Thursday. There is not much to tell because I believe I passed out at one point. I remember Hank yelling at me too push. I vaguely remember the smell of burnt hair. The next day hank looked like a blue naked cats. I remember grabbing Logan by his throat and threatening to electrocute every ounce of sperm in is body. I think I passed out after that, but I awoke to the sound of a screaming child. The sound was both incredibly beautiful and incredibly unnerving, but it was the sound of our child, out first child.

Logan’s Has a Say


So, ‘Ro was keeping this journal, but since the kid was born she hasn’t had much time t’ keep writing. She said I should give it a try. So if i write about anything, it’ll be about the kid! That’s where she left off. You better believe I read that other shit! Who knew ‘Ro had some of that shit in her? Coy, my ass, she’s a Minx. Anyway, I’m a daddy. Me, the Wolverine. Damn, I’ve gone soft and that kid has got me wrapped around her little finger.

My daughter, our daughter… it feels good to be able to say that. The kid is my pride and joy but she’s a handful. If ever there was a pain in the ass it would be her but that she gets from me. That’s the best part of her…well, it ain’t the only part I like but ya know what I mean.

There ain’t words to truly show ya what I mean but if ‘Ro can do this journal thing than so can I… I guess. When she was a baby, she’d wiggle her lil’ ass outta that baby chair thing. Y’ know the one I mean, the one with the bar on it so y’ can carry the lil’ crumb snatchers around. Look away for a minute and she’d be laying on the floor face up and arms and legs flarin’. She’s a fighter.

For the record, there ain’t a play pen or cage for that matter that can hold the kid. She climbed out of everything! ‘Ro and I, we’d place her in the crib, in a separate part of the attic. Actually her crib was away from our bed, just in case she ever woke up while me and ‘Ro were gettin’ it on, but did that stop her? Hell Naw! One night after ‘Ro and I…well…I heard the kid. She’s pretty quiet for a 2 year old, but she ain’t that quiet. I got up and put on my shorts, I didn’t wanna scare the kid with Captain Lively down there, and I peeked around the corner.

Watchin’ a sleepy kid rub their lil’ eyes is a cute thing but, that look she had after was, well she ain’t get that from me! She raised that little dark eyebrow of hers, but not like ‘Ro, or maybe it was just like her. It’s that shifty, mischievous, ‘i’m about t’ do somethin’ ya won’t catch me look’, in other words, the Remy LeBeau look! ‘Ro got it too, she just saves it mostly for me. But that ain’t the point. She’s been pickin’ up shit from Gumbo. I watched her though. She swung one leg over the bar and then the other. Half of her was hanging in the crib and the other half tryin’ t’ find somethin’ t’ land on. If I thought the kid was in danger I would have ran over there faster than lightin’ but I figured it won’t hurt the kid t’ get knocked around a bit, she’ll learn better that way ‘cause she’s my baby.

There she was hoverin’, I had t’ laugh. I think for once the kid was stuck. Then she did the weirdest shit I eva seen a baby do. She climbed back in, threw her pillow over the edge and then she climbed back over. Instead of strugglin’ again, she let herself go. What kinda shit is that? Kids are just a bit too smart nowadays. She landed with on her ass, I guess that’s fine, she has a well-padded diaper. Lucky for us it was a crap-free diaper or I’d be cleanin’ it!

I stood there watchin’ her. Should I have been mad? Maybe. What was I feelin’? Proud. That’s me, proud papa bear! Hell, I could take her callin’ me that instead of what she heard on that damn cartoon! Watchin’ Animaniacs with Jubes she learned a lot and I‘m not sure how much of it good. All I know is she started callin’ me Dadu and her ma she calls Lady.

There she was on her ass, triumphant as ever. I stood therewith my arms folded just waitin’ to she what she does next. She got up and faced me.

“Dadu,” she said running towards me in her two-year old body. She looked more like a teeterin’ duck, but was cute teeterin’ duck.

“Uh, huh. You’re busted duckie. You should be asleep.” I said picking her up.

“No sleep”

“Yes sleep, now”

“Noooooooo sleep.”

“Don’t wake your ma.”

She looked at me with those big blue eyes. Two-years old and she already have me wrapped around her finger, ain’t that some shit?

“No sleep”

“How ‘bout you sleep with me and mommy?”

“K.”

Uh huh. Of course she’d agree to that! Why wouldn’t she? I wish I could remember what it was like t’ be close to my parents, but I do just find with my new memories. So she slept with us that night. All I know is that I woke up with a kidlet blanket.

But here ain’t no memory I could ever regain that would out do the one when she was 4.

With so many eyes in the mansion, you’d think she wouldn’t be able to escape from anything, but the playpen that Hank built her didn’t contain her either. Maybe she’s a mutant after all and that her power. Anyway, one day after the night of a dinner party, Charles asked me to dismantle an ice sculpture. “A chance to do some slicin’ and dicin’? hell yeah!” Well, I took it outside to the front yard. Hey, when it melted it would save ‘Ro some time on watering the lawn. Well, Duckie found herself perched on the window sill and watchin’ me. She waved when I noticed her and flashed that ‘I see you’ look. She was curious. I popped the claws and went at it without thinkin’ nothin’ of it. No preparation could have helped my ears for what came next.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…” That kid can hold a damn note at high pitch.

I ran in to see what was wrong with her, but the closer I got the more she screamed. I had to grab my damn ears. ‘Ro came through the front doors with Jean and Jubilee and dropped her packages instantly. On sight, the kid ran to her and clenched her legs in a death grip. Talk about a look of surprise on ‘Ro’s face! I could hear her heavy sobs and dry heaves as she soaked my wife’s long, smooth… Not the point. What the hell was wrong with the kid?

I watched ‘Ro’s face go from surprise to panic. She bent down to the kidlet’s level and she started to talk to her. I think ‘Ro is the only one that calls the kid by her name.

“Simone Alexis Logan, what is wrong with you child?”

“Da…da…daddy…”

‘Ro looked at me. “What? What’d I do? I didn’t do shit.”

“Logan, watch your language. Simone, please calm down and tell me what happened.”

“Yeah, duckie, tell us what happened.” I shouldn’t have tried to get too close to her.

“No. Go ‘way,” she managed to say through wrenched sobs.

“Logan, what did you do?”

“Damned if I know darlin’”

She turned her attention back to the kid, hell I’m not good at shit like that.

“Sweetie, please tell mommy”

“Da…da…daddy…KILLED uncle Bobby. He… little pieces… outside.” She began to cry into the hollow of her neck. I swear she tried to bite me any time I went near her or her mommy.

Well, they were all still confused, so Jean did a mind scan and sent it to ‘Ro and Jubes.

On the moment of impact Jubilee hit the floor laughing like a goddamn hyena.

“Wolvie…HAHAHAHAHAHAHA…killed Drake…HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…”

“Not funny, Ju’lee,” Simone furrowed her brows disapprovingly at Jubilee.

Jean on the other hand tried not to laugh for so long that she began to tear. She excused herself with the reason of going to find Bobby. It didn’t take her too long to crack. I could hear her.

“Baby, I promise I didn’t kil…”

“Noooo… leave me ‘lone!” she yelled in my face and threw her little hands in that classic ‘hear no evil’ gesture.

“I am sure Daddy did not kill Robert.” Why was ‘Ro looking at me with that evil eye-thing?

She wouldn’t listen to ‘Ro either. She had to see for herself. So she broke away from ‘Ro and ran as fast as her legs could carry her to ice cube’s room. She didn’t have to go to far, he was on his way down the stairs.

“Uncle Bobbbbbbyyyyyyyy!” I ‘ve never ever seen a kid jump like that. She really thought I really killed ice chip.

“Hey S.A.L what’s new?”

Bobby had the kid as a shadow for a week. She didn’t forgive me until then either. I didn’t know whether or not she would. But that morning I woke up with a human blanket, half ‘Ro and half kid.

Yup, life is good!

Infiltration


I’m gonna continue to write in this thing, even if it kills me, ‘cause I want my kids to know always how much me and ‘Ro care & love ‘em. There’s never a day that goes by when me or Ororo aren’t thinking of our family.

Anyway on with the kid stories. I left off with the adventures of Duckie. Well, they never end. Ro and I didn’t go on a mission together often. Occasionally we would but we never made a habit out of it. This time I went on a mission with Red, Gumbo, Ice Cube & the Firecracker. I let Jubes co-pilot, she actually learned something at that school. Nah, I guess we’re all just finally noticing how much she ain’t a little girl anymore. Since I was pilot, I was focused on that.

You wanna talk about security risk, kidlet snuck aboard. I thought that kid may finally be the death of me. No one really noticed her right away. Bobby was cracking jokes as usual and Red swatted him upside the head. Things were going as usual, until the smallest voice was heard.

“Dadu, I have to go to the potty.”

“”K, Duckie, just give daddy a… WHAT THE FUCK?!?” She was sitting in the last row, strapped in and staring out the window. Her little hands were in her lap as if she was meant to be there.

“HOLY SHIT!” that came from Jubes.

“Sweetie how did you get here?” Jean asked.

“I wanted to say bye-bye but the doors closed behind me, so I sat down and stayed quiet. Why?”

Jean unbuckled her and took her to the lavatory in the back of the jet. The whole time I was thinkin’ how the hell she got past ‘Ro and why the hell didn’t I notice? I couldn’t smell the kid ‘cause I am covered in her and ‘Ro. Because she has a distinct smell, I barely notice, except for when I wanna. This shit makin’ me soft! I’m losin’ my edge!

We made our destination and we had no idea as to what to do with her. This wasn’t a seriously dangerous mission, but we couldn’t exactly take the kid with us. I mean, it was us versus the FOH goon squad. They are seriously stupid, but stupid is dangerous. We couldn’t leave the kid on the plane alone, not my child! Only option we had was to take her with us.

“No way, mon amie! We can’ take le petite chat, Stormy’ll kill us all. Gambit’ll stay behind an’ watch petite.” He then squatted to her level, “You like that non, petite?”

“No.” she then clung to her Uncle Bobby. Frankly I think the kid had a few issues, but she knows whom she likes.

“NO, we need everyone. She comes, she just sticks t’ me. If ‘Ro’ll kill anyone, I have a better chance at survival then the rest of you.”

As we started to exit the blackbird, the sky started to rumble and was lit by lightning.

“Shit, ‘Ro’s pissed. I know she is!”

“It’s your ass, homme!” Simone giggled and mentally took count of the naughty words being thrown around.

“Jeanie, can ya…”

“I’m on it Logan.”

Jean contacted Ororo to tell her about the current situation and that her first born child was not in immediate danger… yet. The sky began to clear and then it started to rain.

I kept the kid close to me at first. Then we all split. Me, Jean and Bobby went one way, Gumbo and Jubes went the other. The kid followed close behind me and did as I told whenever I said, “Stand off to the side” and then the fighting began. She stayed off to the side like I told her too but she sat on the floor like she was watching a danger room session or a damn movie. She never realized the real danger that she was in. Then again, how many four year olds would, definitely not my child. Kid probably lives by the motto, “I laugh in the in the face of danger.” I wouldn’t be surprised if she started dancing around singin’ Hakuna Matata, she knows all the damn words by heart. I sorta liked having the kid there. I know I sound like a sick puppy but hear me out. The kid was an extra pair of eyes. She kept lookout. She warned us when there was someone behind us or someplace off to where we couldn’t see. I know my senses would have gotten to them sooner or later but she made everything happen faster.

“Daddy, that man has another sharp thingy on his belt.”

“Thanks, Duckie.”

“No problem” and then she went back to humming a song while watching. Sure enough it was Hakuna Matata.

Well, something went wrong and the damn FOH got the best of us and we ended up chained in a cage like freaks on display, but not the kid. They overlooked her. I’m not surprised they did. She’s small for a four year old. I was going ape-shit. If they touch my kid I was gonna kill them without a thought. I was gonna give them a real reason to hate mutants.

Just then, I saw a little face peek out from around the corner smiling and waving like she did the day she thought I killed Ice Cube. She then checked to see if the coast was clear. We watched her and didn’t say anything. We figured this was how she got around in the mansion without any of us knowing. She watched the guards and then just walked right up to the cage and squeezed herself through the bars of the cage.

“Hi Daddy”

“Shh, give Uncle Remy your hair clip.” I was really counting on the FOH’s natural stupidity, thankfully I was right.

“But mommy gave it to me.”

“I know, petite. Uncle Gambit’ll give back, he promise.”

“Okay.” She sounded just a little disappointed.

Gambit jimmied the lock to his chains open and then did the rest of us. Frost boy froze the bars, Firecracker blinded those stupid asses and I took the lead fighting our way out after we did what we had to do. Gumbo carried Duckie like a football, but she enjoyed it and didn’t know any better. Jean protected us for the most part with a TK bubble.

We made it to the Blackbird ten minutes top. I took kidlet from Gumbo and strapped her in.

“Can we do that again, Dadu?”

“Maybe some other time. A long time from now.” I’d love to fight by my kid’s side one day. She has good instincts and she gets in and out of places like a pro. We all got out with minimum injuries. Luckily the kid was unharmed. Ro would skin me alive with my own claws if the kid was harmed with the slightest scratch.

Jean took my place as pilot so I could be near the kid. Five minutes after takeoff she was out cold.

“Too much excitement for SAL, eh Wolf-man?”

“Yeah, I guess so Ice Cube”

We made it back to the mansion and ‘Ro was standing there as royally pissed as a three month pregnant woman can be. Two and a half months ago, we discovered she was pregnant again. Oh joy. 3 months down and 6 more t’ go. God help me.

Everyone exited the jet first, I was the last t’ get off with the kid clinging t’ me like a Koala. ‘Ro just looked at me. Her eyes were squinted and arms folded over her almost there stomach. The other X-men tried to speak t’ her but their words were fallin’ on deaf ears. Her eyes and expression spoke volumes. She took the kid from me and carried her up to her room. I stood in the doorway as Ro was puttin’ the kid in her PJ’s.

“Hi, Lady.” She said half asleep and eyes barely open.

“Hello, Sweetie”

“I had fun with daddy and everyone. I got t’ be the lookout… I crawled in the cage… I watched daddy kick some bad guy ass. Night, Lady” With that she was out like a light again. I couldn’t help but laugh at the last part. Where do kids get that stuff from?

“Sweet dreams, my child.” She kissed her forehead, but unfortunately she heard me laughing.

“YOU, up stairs NOW!” she said through clenched teeth.

“Oh Shit!”

“I heard that.”

I wasn’t aware I spoke those words allowed. She chewed me a new one that night. I knew better than to argue with a pregnant woman. I learned my lesson from the first time.

***

Duckie officially started kindergarten that September. That was also the month her little brother was born. It was obvious he was gonna have the same creamy color skin as his sister except he was born with a slight skin condition. My boy looked like a little Pup. He had a mocha patch around his left eye. It was only in that place. So I had my Duckie and Pup. We officially named him Nathaniel Alexander Logan. We could have named him James Nathaniel Logan, he would’ve been a junior. That’s right! I’ve known my name for a while now, but it just wasn’t that important anymore. I went by one name for so long who really gives a shit?

Pup was definitely not like Duckie. He was a quiet baby, no trouble… until later. He slept through the night for the most part. He definitely liked his mama. He would light up at the sight of her. I figured it was because he was hungry. Hey, I would light up too if I was being breastfed by, ‘Ro. By the way, I can’t wait ‘till the little man is passed that stage, ‘cause they’re mine, just out on temporary loan.

‘Ro love babies. She’d sit in that rocking chair I made for her around the time Duckie was born and sing to the baby. For obvious reason ‘Ro and I couldn’t show as much attention towards Duckie, but we still tried. I helped her with her homework and stuff, but I couldn’t show her the same attention she had before. Not yet at least. Lookin’ back, I’m sure kidlet didn’t understand why. She became quiet and out of the limelight. But that would change too.

One day Duckie home from school and she didn’t feel so well. I was in the garage, a place she wasn’t allowed, as if that’d stop her. ‘Ro was in the garden, so she went there instead.

“Mommy, I don’t feel well.” She finally got out of that Dadu and Lady shit!

‘Ro dropped her shears wiped her hands as clean as possible and tested her forehead. There was slight warmth.

“You do look tired. Come on. We will drop your brother off with daddy and then you will get into bed and I will bring you some soup.”

“Okay.”

She did just that. She stayed with the kid even after she fell asleep. I was trying t’ put little man t’ sleep but he wanted to stay up. So I thought I’d check on ‘Ro and kidlet.

“How is she?”

“Okay, she is just really tired. She barely ate the soup.” Then she cocked her head to the side as she moved errand strands from Duckie’s face. “Look at how big she is. I do not think I have noticed until now. I have not spent much time with her lately, not since Nathaniel was born.

“Maybe Hank should take a look at her. She said she was all itchy, so I gave her a bath.”

“Itchy? ‘Ro, these bumps she has on her arm, does she have ‘em all over?”

“Yes, why?”

“Haaaaaaaaaaaaank?”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Why on earth do we need to be quarantined?”

“I’m sorry, my dears, but Chicken Pox is very contagious”