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Xavier Institute for Gifted and Talented
Westchester, New York
Boathouse
9 months since the defeat of The Shadow King


“Rrraaaaurrgggh!!” Six blades of lethal adamantium shot forth, spraying blood against a soft beige comforter. Heavy panting filled the still night air.
“Logan!” Ororo shot up in bed, immediately reaching for her husband.
He turned on her suddenly, savagely snarling at her, pinning her to the bed, his claws burying deep in the down pillows beside her head. He growled viciously, his gleaming white teeth bared against the haunted shadows of his face. He lowered his face to hers, snarling and sniffing.
Ororo tilted her head, giving him full access to her neck, making herself vulnerable to his attack should he so choose. He wouldn’t, she knew. He never did. Slowly, so not to startle him, she moved her hands up his tense forearms, along his shoulders, burrowing her fingers in his thick mane of midnight hair. “It’s all right, Logan. I have you now,” she whispered, pulling him closer, rubbing her lips over his, not kissing, just touching. “I’m here, love.”
“…’Ro?”
She nuzzled him, an imitation of his familiar, affectionate gesture. “Hi.”
Slowly reality began to set in and Logan was horrified to find his fists planted beside his wife’s lovely face, claws buried through the pillows, into the mattress. He retracted instantly, searching her frantically for any sign of injury. “Are ya alright?” he demanded, his voice raspy.
“Of course I’m alright.” Ororo said in her soothing, velvety timbre. “Another one?”
Logan sat back, sighing heavily, running one hand through his constantly disheveled hair. “Yeah.”
Ororo sat up as well, hooking her arms under his, hugging him. At first he was stiff and unresponsive, as he always was right after the nightmares, but soon he relaxed against her, his thick arms circling her. He nuzzled against her neck and his whiskers scratched lightly on her skin. It was a most welcome sensation, reminding her of his maleness and of his recent possession of her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Another heavy sigh. “There’s not much ta talk about, darlin’. Same as always. I wake up and it’s gone.”
She hugged him tighter. “It’ll come.”
Logan shifted so that he was looking down at her upturned face. He traced one finger along her brow, along her jaw, moving to tease her full bottom lip. She was a miracle, he thought, gazing into her trusting blue depths. She had unflappable faith in him and unconditional love for him, both of which he was certain he didn’t deserve. He clasped her to him, concealing his face in her neck, inhaling the sweet vanilla and earth scent that was hers and hers alone.
His nightmares were getting progressively worse, each one more vivid and real than the one before. Although he hated lying to Ororo, he wasn’t being entirely honest with her about how much of his dreams he remembered. He didn’t hide the truth because he thought she wouldn’t understand the dreams, because he knew she would, if anyone knew nightmares, it was ’Ro. The reason he didn’t tell her about the rooms with the scientists and the tubes and needles was because of the way it all made him feel. Afraid. It was a disturbing sensation, for Logan. He was known as the X-man who was not afraid of anyone, or anything, and he hadn’t been…until now. He was more than afraid of the monster in his dream; the one person that haunted him, that relished in the blood, hungered for the hunt, delighted in the pain. That person terrified him, but what terrified him even more was tonight the monster that took such pleasure in killing had a face and Logan had recognized it. It was him.
Sensing that he was still feeling the lingering effects of the dream, Ororo began to trail silky kisses along his neck and along his stubbled jaw. She never badgered him for more than he was willing to share, she simply held him, gave him her support, her unconditional acceptance, offering him her heart and her love to keep the darkness at bay.
In the few short months of their marriage Logan was continuously amazed by Ororo. He remembered how she had touched him the first night she had been witness to one of his nightmares. Instead of screaming and cowering away from him she had wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, speaking to him in low soothing tones. That had been four months ago and although the dreams were coming with less frequency they were arriving with far more intensity.
Still, Ororo was unafraid, and nonjudgmental. She never flinched from his fangs, never once looking away from his glittering black gaze, and never allowed him to feel shame at himself, telling him in no uncertain terms that being forced to do horrible things did not make him a monster, those that used him were the monsters. She said that he was redeeming himself daily with his fight against evil alongside the X-Men, she argued that he had saved himself and was a man of uncompromising honor. He didn’t fight with her over it, it would be pointless. Once Ororo made up her mind about something nothing would sway her. However, she was wrong. It wasn’t himself that kept him from falling back into the darkness that he harbored inside, it was her. She was his salvation.
Fresh beads of sweat broke out across his forehead and he shuddered. He felt his beautiful Windrider‘s soft lips on his cheek, her fingers running through his hair. He tilted her face towards his. “Love me, ‘Ro.” he murmured against her sleep plumped lips.
She smiled tenderly at him. “Always.”
Without taking his eyes from hers he gently pushed her back against the bedding, kissing her hotly, ferociously, his hands sliding down her body, parting her thighs, caressing her gently, making her moan and wiggled against him. He groaned, shoving the blankets out of his way so that he could settle himself in the cradle of her hips. He entered her slowly, drawing a sharp breath as he felt her body clench around his, welcoming him home.
Logan closed his eyes as she wrapped her gloriously long legs around his waist, pulling him tighter against her, undulating her hips as he moved in and out of her. His breathing turned ragged, his heart threatening to burst from his chest with each powerful stroke.
Ororo kissed him slowly, moving her tongue in and out of his mouth in the same rhythm that he was moving in and out of her. No matter how many times they were together it always felt magical and unique. He made her feel loved, and wanted and brought out in her a scorching passion that she hadn’t known she possessed.
Their tempo was increasing, the springs of their mattress groaning as he shifted position, driving in her tight velvet with more force, unable to hold back, needing to lose himself in her. Ororo was arching beneath him, crying out as her body quaked with her orgasm. God she was beautiful. Logan growled, latching onto the soft spot between her shoulder and neck, biting her as he came. Marking her. His. Always…
Gentle fingers stirred the hair at Logan’s temple, moving in lazy circles. He was already fast asleep, drained from the dream and their fierce lovemaking. Ororo sighed contentedly, enjoying the feel of her husband pressed against her. She knew he would not be moving from his current position, he never did after a nightmare. He would spend the remainder of the night still buried within her body and every so often would move his hips, stroking in and out of her in his sleep. Ororo didn’t mind. If her body offered him comfort and gave him even a moments peace, she would offer it up to him gladly.
“Sleep well, husband. I’ll keep the nightmares away.” Ororo kissed the top of his head. Logan rumbled softly in his sleep, nuzzling her. For a long time Ororo laid awake, stroking his hair, trying not to imagine what horrors would make her husband lash out like a man possessed. Her eyes began to glow white in the dark Whoever had hurt him would suffer, she vowed. She thought of Wraith and his sick look of pleasure as Wolverine was riddled with bullets, collapsing to the ground. She ground her teeth, thinking of all Logan had probably endured at that cruel monster’s hands. Closing her eyes Ororo wished that man a slow and painful death followed by a quick ride to hell.


Morning

The sound of loud, pounding bass and heavy grinding guitar rifts filtered through the steel doors, causing Wolverine and Gambit to exchange knowing glances. The heavy music blaring from the Danger Room could only mean that Ali and ’Ro were the room’s current occupants.
The two men entered the small elevator that lead to the observation turret and a moment later had their suspicions confirmed. Below them on the floor Ali was blasting several robotic attackers with streams of powerful laser light, her head bobbing to the music all the while.
***If you wanna step up (step up),
***You're gonna get knocked down (knocked down).
***If you wanna step up (step up),
***You're gonna get knocked down.
Behind her a droid raised its arm to strike and beside Wolverine, Gambit tensed. He shouldn’t have worried, as Ali leaned back, capturing the robots featureless face between her palms and twisting around, flipping the droid.
The heel of a thick black boot came down, smashing the robot’s head, small sparks shooting into the air. Ali looked over at Storm who was currently going hand to hand with several interactive soldier holograms and smiled. This was fun!
Storm moved with precision and grace, hitting and kicking, deflecting and throwing, making it look as easy as breathing. Whatever Wolverine was teaching her was effective and it showed. As Ali watched, a slight smirk on her face, Storm flipped, wrapping her legs around the last hologram’s neck, twisting and snapping. The soldier fell to the floor with a thud.
“Der be worse ways ta die,” Gambit said, nudging Wolverine.
“Can it, Cajun.”
In the Danger Room, the gun turrets swung open, firing on the two girls. In a spectacular display of acrobatics, Storm avoided the stun pellets, flipping and twisting in fluid motions, trusting her instincts to guide her. Ali on the other hand took a different approach. Tearing the front torso from one of the fallen robots and using it as a shield.
Lightening danced along the walls, shorting the circuits of the motion detectors, freezing the guns where they were, giving Ali ample opportunity to knock them out of commission with some concentrated light.
As the smoke cleared and the room settled, the two women stood laughing triumphantly.
“You two wan’ a real challenge?” Gambit said over the intercom, startling them.
Storm shielded her eyes, looking up at the reflective glass. “If you think you’re man enough.”
Gambit tossed Wolverine a look over his shoulder. “Wanna?”
A feral grin.
“Be right down.”

An hour later the four of them, showered and changed, made their way through the halls on their way to the scheduled afternoon briefing. “We are so gonna own you next time,” Ali said tugging the sleeves of her dark sweater as they walked through the main lobby.
“Is dat right?”
“You better believe it.” She said smugly. Gambit took her hand, bringing it to his lips, kissing it slowly.
“You already own my heart, ma petite bella,” he murmured. “Leave me and da Wolverine our pride, non. Such a fragile man as ‘e is, ‘e wouldn’ take da defeat well. Poor lamb.”
Wolverine chuffed. “It seems to me that the root of your tongue goes straight through to your ass, because you talk so much shit, Gumbo.”
“You jus’ be jealous of dis Cajun boys charm,” Gambit replied good naturedly.
“Yeah. That’s it.” Wolverine said flatly.
“Let’s go see if big C will let us ride to the meeting on his lap,” Ali suggested.
“Non. You and Stormy sit on him, you give dat man a ‘eart attack.” Gambit chided.
Ali pouted. “Prude.”
Ororo laughed. Prude is not a term she associated with her brother. He gave her a dirty look, which only made her laugh harder.
They paused beneath the decorative arch separating the lobby from the family room and Gambit began nudging Ali, pointing up. A bough of shamrock hung directly overhead. It had been one of the new teacher’s, Sean’s, idea for St. Patrick’s Day to use clovers like mistletoe.
Also noticing the leafy ball, Logan pulled a startled Ororo into his arms.
“What are you doing?” Ororo laughed, surprised.
“There are rules about these things,” he said seriously. “Strict rules.” Then his mouth claimed hers in a scorching kiss. Ororo shuddered, eyes closing as she was immediately lost in her husband’s embrace.
Gambit had to clear his throat three times before they broke apart. “Dis be a place of learnin‘,” he scolded with humor.
“Ali’s right. You are a prude,” Storm responded. “What happened to my Gambit, huh? The flirt? The charmer? The--?”
Gambit shouldered past Wolverine planting a bold kiss on Storm’s lips.
Wolverine’s low growl only encouraged him and Gambit tilted Storm back over his arm in a low dip, her long hair held from the floor by Gambit‘s threaded fingers. He turned his head up towards Wolverine with a devilish grin. “Dat’s ‘ow you do it, mon frere.”
“Ya got two seconds ta unhand my wife, Gumbo, or I forget yer family and carve ya like the turkey ya are.”
“Behave.” Ororo laughed, swatting Gambit’s shoulder. He pulled her upright again giving her a wink.
“Jus’ keeping’ da man on ’is toes.”
“Mmhm.” Ali tapped her foot, trying her best to appear angry. “Hey, Wolverine, c’mere, big boy.”
Ororo placed a hand on his arm. “I don’t share,” she teased.
“Man hog,” Ali pouted dramatically.
“Oh, all right.” Storm said with a sigh. “But I guarantee you’ll never look at Gambit the same way again.”
“Non, non. Not necessary,” Gambit drawled, enveloping Ali in a warm embrace.
“Well if he kisses as well as he’s hung--”
“Alison!”
“Just saying.”
Wolverine cleared his throat. “Well, if we’re done talkin’ ’bout my anatomy, there’s a meeting ta get ta.”
“Of course, sweetie.” Ororo winked at Ali, mouthing: Better.

War Room

“These are our most recent satellite images of a small base cerebro located a few weeks ago. I believe it is a mutant detention center of sorts.” Xavier indicated a large cylinder shaped building. “I sense there are several mutants housed here.”
Jean leaned forward anxiously. “A prison?”
Xavier nodded. “Yes.”
“No.” Wolverine said.
All eyes turned towards him.
“No?”
“No. It’s a training facility.”
Storm gave him a questioning look and under the table he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “One of many created by Weapon X.”
“Weapon X?” Ororo asked.
“Weapon X is a program designed for the explicit purpose of using mutants for war, raids, assassinations, and any number of other high risk missions.” Cyclops answered her. “Wolverine was once a member.”
Ororo nodded. “So, you don’t think this is a containment unit?” she asked Wolverine.
“Yes and no. Almost none of the mutants used for the program are there voluntarily. They are usually kidnapped and forced to fight. The bases are usually set up with cells in a center building, training facilities in the back and guarded areas in the front.”
Xavier pushed a button and a new image came into view. Three large underground holding cells. “And these?”
Pain. Needles. Nightmares. Blood. Pain. Pain. Pain.
Wolverine shook his head, trying to clear it. “Don’t know.”
“Hm. Well, we are going to find out. I’m sending a strategically strike force to infiltrate the base and recover those captured people.” Xavier shut off the hologram projector. “I will of course take volunteers first.”
“I’m in.” Ororo said.
“No.” Wolverine gave her a hard look.
She slowly turned her head towards him. “Excuse me?”
His dark eyes glittered. “A small unit would be best. Me, with Slim and Beast as backups.”
With controlled calm Storm said, “I am going. There are people that need help, Wolverine.” She turned back to Xavier.
Xavier sighed. “Storm I know you want to go, but I have to agree with Wolverine. Cyclops, Beast and Wolverine will go in. You leave in thirty minutes. Cyclops will have point.”
Ororo nodded, standing. “Wolverine, a word please.”
He grumbled something under his breath but followed her out of the room.
“What the hell was that?” She demanded once out of earshot of the others, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Look, ‘Ro-”
“Storm.”
“Ok.” he glowered. “Storm. Look, this is going ta need ta be surgical precise, and quiet. Let’s face it, yer powers ain’t the most subtle on the planet.”
“That’s not it, don’t lie to me.”
Wolverine shifted weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t like the idea of you in danger.”
“Wolverine, I’m an X-Man. There will always be danger. It’s part of the job. There are innocent people to be helped and I plan on doing everything I can to help them. What good is being an X-Man if all I ever do is sit around in my leather uniform and watch from the sidelines.“
“Ya’ve taken at least three assignments a month for the past six months, Storm. Ya ain’t sitting on the sidelines by far. Just let this one go. It won’t make ya any less of an X-Man.”
Ororo gave him an incredulous look. “You’re being ridiculous. Not only am I an X-Man, but I’m your team leader, and I didn’t appreciate you pulling that little stunt in there. You don’t get to make my decisions for me.”
Wolverine gave her a hard stare.
“We clear?” she asked when he didn’t respond.
“No. I’ll never be okay with you throwing yerself headlong inta every assignment that comes our way. What is it yer tryin’ ta prove?”
“Me? What about you, mister solo? What are you trying to prove?”
“Storm-”
“If you two are done your marital bickering, we should probably go over a plan of attack,” Cyclops said opening the door.
Storm gave Wolverine‘s impassive features a long look. He didn‘t even blink, just continued to stare at her angrily. “We’re done.” Ororo moved past him.
He watched her walk into the room, her back a straight line, her chin slightly tilted. He’d hurt her feelings, he knew, but he wanted her safe. Far away from anything that had to do with Weapon X. Unbidden a deep voice came into his mind:
~She’s a pretty little thing. I can only imagine the plans Wraith has for her.~
Smith. The fat fuck that had tortured him. Just thinking about that day made his knuckles ache, his claws screaming for release. That bastard had not only flayed him wide open, he had injected him with rage, making him go after the other X-Men, damn near killing Storm. Fuck. He wanted her as far away as possible from this shit and she wanted to run straight into it. With a growl he followed her back into the War Room.
“Let’s get started, people.” Cyclops moved to the head of the table.
“A Blackbird approach is our best bet. We move in hard and fast, take out the front guard units and move into the cells.”
“What about the underground buildings?” Beast asked.
“Wolverine?”
“It’s doubtful anyone’s alive down there.”
“We can’t just assume that,” Ororo said. “We should make sure.”
“I’m sure.” he snarled.
“Okay, never, ever, attempt t’ correct Wolverine ‘bout anyt’ing.” Gambit said. “If’n he bitin’ Stormy’s ‘ead off, der no telling’ what ‘e gonna do t’ da rest of us.”
Wolverine growled, his eyes drifting to Storm. She was looking at him strangely, like she was trying to peel back his layers and see inside. He looked away.
Cyclops ignored the banter, used to it by now. “This is the main ’housing’ area. It’s the best image we have.” It was a long narrow building, divided into many small square rooms.
“How big are those cells?” Storm asked.
“Best guess, five by six. Small.”
The green wire image rotated and on the back wall there were several objects shown white. Metal. Hooks and flails, spikes and rods.
“Cozy.” Beast muttered.
“Yeah. Cozy, if you're Hannibal Lecter,” Ali said. “Torture devices?”
“Looks that way.” Cyclops confirmed. “We enter here.” He pointed directly in the middle of the building.
“Der isn’ a door.”
A flash of ruby quartz. “I’ll make one. What’s the security like at these places, Wolverine?”
“Minimal. They’re hidden and overconfident, not expecting mutant liberators ta come chargin’ in if ya know what I mean.”
Cyclops nodded. “We leave in fifteen. Get your gear, be ready.”
“A raid, how jolly.” Beast murmured.
Wolverine was silent, walking from the room, leaving Storm to stare after him. She rubbed her gold band comfortingly, knowing he just needed some space, that it wasn’t her, but it still hurt.
“Ya alright, padnat?”
“Fine, Remy.” She gave him a quick smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Let’s set up watch.” She busied herself logging on to the comm link frequencies, pulling up the internal Blackbird cameras as well as the external. All shots came onto the large flat screen TV on the wall.
“Ali, can you get Kitty. I’ll want her here on the computer.”
“Sure thing.” Ali was out the door.
“Ready for da show?” Gambit leaned back in his chair.
The door suddenly opened and Wolverine strode in, a fierce look on his face. He yanked Storm from her seat, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her fervently, meshing his lips to hers, stroking her tongue with his, making her knees weak. When he pulled back she looked dazed. “Fer luck.” He turned and was gone again.
Ororo touched her lips with the tips of her fingers, smiling.





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