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Xavier Institute
Headmaster’s Office
Mid-Morning


“Unacceptable.” Charles Xavier said with a scowl, pointing his index finger at Alison and Wolverine. “I gave specific orders that were meant to be followed.”
“Yeah, well yer orders sucked.” Wolverine snarled from where he stood, leaning against the wall on one shoulder, arms crossed in front of his black cotton clad chest.
“It is not part of your job to question my orders, Wolverine. It is your job to follow them. There were specific reasons I ordered you all to stay out of it, and now I‘ll be spending a majority of my morning explaining to General Fury why members of my school defied my orders and ultimately ruined a S.H.I.E.L.D priority one operation.”
Wolverine grunted. “If Fury gives ya lip, ya tell him ta come see me, and we’ll discuss who has priority when it comes ta my wife.”
Ali stepped forward. “Look--”
“As for you , Alison,” Xavier fixed her with a hard stare. “You have been suspended and reprimanded more times than I care to count. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t expel you from the school right now.”
Ali lowered her head, strands of dark hair concealing her eyes, unable to think of anything to say in her defense.
“Ali goes, I go.” Wolverine said, surprising both Xavier and Alison. Ali gave him a curious look, but said nothing.
Xavier frowned slightly. “Team loyalty is not something I have come to expect from you, Wolverine.”
Wolverine shrugged. It had nothing to do with teams or the X-Men. He owed Ali, she was Storm’s best friend and staunchest supporter. No way he was letting Xavier take that away from ‘Ro. “I’m just full o’ surprises.”
Xavier nodded. “So it seems.”
“If we hadn’t gone, Cyclops could be dead right now,” Alison said.
Xavier leaned back in his chair. “That is your only saving grace. You are both suspended from active duty for the next thirty days as a reminder that you are part of a team, not independent agents.” He picked up the phone on his desk. “Good day.”
Ali and Wolverine stalked out of the office, both muttering under their breaths. In the hall Wolverine turned to Ali. “Beer.”
“Definitely.”

Med lab

Storm strolled into the recovery room where Scott lay, a concerned look on her face. She was dressed in her favorite jeans and half shirt, her arms wrapped to her elbows where the wires had sliced her open. “You been here all night?” she asked Jean, who was seated beside the bed, holding one of Scott’s hands, tear tracks on her pale cheeks.
Jean nodded, running her free hand wearily through her red hair. “I couldn’t leave him,” she whispered.
Storm handed Jean a cup of coffee. “Thought you might need this.”
“Thanks.” Jean took the mug with one hand, her other still clasped firmly to Scott’s.
Storm slid the wheeled stool at the foot of the bed up towards the head, on the opposite side of Scott than Jean. “How’s he doing?”
Jean smiled a little. “He’s stable. Hank expects a full recovery…eventually.”
Storm nodded, remembering the sickening sounds of bones breaking and Scott’s tortured screams. She shivered involuntarily reaching out to brush a lock of brown hair from Scott’s forehead.
“I saw you,” Jean began before her throat clogged.
Storm looked up. “You saw me?”
Jean nodded, fresh tears shimmering in her emerald eyes. “In his mind. You wouldn’t leave him.”
Storm shook her head. “Of course not.”
Jean snorted, a tear splashing her and Scott’s joined hands. “That’s not an ‘of course not’ for many people, Storm. You saved his life. Thank you.”
Storm remembered the blood and the screams again, thinking to herself that Cyclops may not thank her for it. She nodded, silent, watching Scott’s chest rise and fall, wishing she had been able to do more than watch as he was cut and maimed in front of her, his bones broken ruthlessly, his body ravaged horribly. Smith. Ororo closed her eyes, picturing the sick smile the man wore the entire time Scott screamed. Whatever Wolverine had done to him, it had been too kind.
“Why don’t you go shower and change, Jean. I’ll stay with him.”
Jean looked reluctant.
“I’ll leave myself open, Jean. If he wakes you’ll know.”
“Thanks.” Jean knew how difficult it was for Storm to leave her mind unguarded, she had spent most of her life trying to prevent one of the most powerful telepath’s in the world from getting in. She kissed Scott gently on his cheek before slowly making her way from the Med lab.
Once Jean was gone Ororo picked up Scott’s hand. Cyclops may be an arrogant prick but he had shown her what he was made of, not caving into the pain and even at its most brutal his thoughts had been to protect her and the other X-Men. “I’m sorry I was so stubborn on the stakeout. If we had left sooner…” She lowered her head. “I’m so sorry, Scott.” He groaned in his sleep, but didn’t wake. Jean returned fifteen minutes later, her hair still wet from her shower.
Ororo stood, heading for the door. “I’ll be back later,” she told Jean.
“Okay. Storm?” Jean called after her.
“Yes?”
“It wasn’t your fault.”


Kitchen

“Unfuckinbelievable,” Alison grumbled, slamming her beer onto the small table her and Wolverine were seated at angrily. “We fly to Colofreakinrado, to rescue--rescue!--our teammates and we get benched for the effort?” She snorted. “Priceless. Y’know I think Cueball’s losing his grip on reality.”
Wolverine grunted.
“Well said,” Alison lifted her bottle in salute.
The double doors to the kitchen swung open and Warren strolled in looking like a blond Adonis, his hair shimmering in the sunlight. “Good morning,” he greeted.
“’Sup.” Ali returned.
Warren paused. “Are you drinking?”
“Naw, Fly boy, she’s playing Parcheesi.” Wolverine moved to open the fridge, pulling out two more bottles. “What‘s it to ya?”
“It’s ten in the morning.”
“So, we started late,” Wolverine said, popping the cap off his beer with a solitary claw and retaking the chair across from Ali.
“You could get in serious trouble, Ali,” Warren said moving to Alison’s side.
“Not really giving a shit right now, War. But thanks for the concern.” Ali patted his arm.
Warren caught her hand in his. “Ali--”
“Der you be, petite. Gambit be lookin’ everywhere for you.” Gambit strode through the still swinging doors, a dark look on his handsome face. “I been searchin’ all over da mansion for you, Ali.”
“Well, you found me,” Ali said with a half smile, taking another drink from her long necked bottle.
Gambit’s red on black gaze flicked over Warren. It wasn’t a friendly look. Wolverine sat forward, his interest peaked. There was some definite tension running between the Cajun and the Angel.
“C’mon, Ali.” Gambit held his hand out for her. “Let’s go for a walk, oui?”
Ali smiled widely. “Oui.” She stood up and wrapped her arms around Gambit’s neck. “A walk sounds nice, Yummy.”
Gambit bent his head, his lips claiming hers in a searing kiss, uncaring that they had an audience. Or maybe, caring very much who was watching, Wolverine considered. Warren stormed from the kitchen, slamming the doors so hard they slapped the walls.
“What’s up with , Winger?” Ali asked, looking at the doors.
“Don’ matter, chere.” Gambit ran his thumb over her moist lower lip. “All dat matter is you and me.” He cast Wolverine a glance. “Where’s Stormy?”
“She went ta check on Cyclops.” Wolverine leaned his chair back, watching Gambit carefully. The taller man seemed edgy, almost anxious.
“Could you tell ‘er dat I need ta talk t’ ‘er?”
Wolverine nodded, taking a swig from his beer, his dark eyes contemplative.
Gambit ushered Alison from the room, one arm locked securely around her waist, his head bent close to hers. Wolverine knew the stance well, it was both protective and possessive. Whatever was going on with Gumbo, one thing was obvious, the man had it bad for Alison.
“Wolvie!”
Wolverine couldn’t prevent his smile at the sound of Jubilee’s voice. She burst through the doors, and immediately Wolverine sat up, his smile turning into a scowl. Jubilee was wearing a pair of short cutoffs and a blue and yellow tankini top with sandals and shades, but it wasn’t her appearance that caught Wolverine’s attention, it was the boy hovering behind Jubilee, practically drooling.
“Drake,” he growled, standing.
“Uh-hey, man.” Bobby said, his familiar cock-sure smile making Wolverine want to punch him in the face. He had seen how Bobby had toyed with Kitty’s emotions, how he’d played on his good looks and popularity to flirt with her until she had broken things off with Kurt, only to have Bobby give her the cold shoulder when she was single.
Jubilee plopped herself at the table. “Hey, Bobby, could you get me a soda?” she asked sweetly.
“Sure thing.” Bobby practically jumped to the fridge.
Jubilee snapped her gum, pushing her sunglasses back through her short, dark hair. “What’s got you so grumpy?” she asked Wolverine.
“I ain’t grumpy,” he said.
“Right, and is the sky purple in your world?”
“Don’t get mouthy, kid.”
“Aww, sorry, muffin,” she gave him a goofy grin.
“Muffin?” Wolverine raised one dark eyebrow. “Careful, kiddo. I may let Storm get away with that, but not you.”
“Get away with what?” Storm sauntered into the kitchen, she smiled at Wolverine.
“Calling Grumpy-buns here muffin.” Jubilee popped the top on the can of soda Bobby handed her, taking a large drink, belching indelicately afterwards.
“You’ve been spending way to much time with Ali,” Wolverine grumbled getting to his feet. “Hey, darlin’.” He wrapped one arm across Storm’s shoulders as she approached, noticing how sad her eyes looked even with her smile.
“Hey.” She brushed his lips with her own, needing the contact. “How did the meeting with Charles go?” A low rumbling from Wolverine was her only response. “That good, huh?”
*Storm.*
“Speak of the devil,” she said aloud so Wolverine would know Xavier was in her head. “Charles.”
*My office please.*
“On my way.” She gave him an apologetic look. “Looks like we’ll have to catch up later.” They hadn’t seen each other since early in the morning, both having a lot to do.
“Looks like.” He gave her a swat on the rear as she walked away, earning himself a micro shower directly over his head. “Nice, darlin’. Real nice.” he said in mock anger. He turned with a snarl at Bobby’s laughter. “And just what’re ya grinning about, snowflake? C’mon, Jubilee, let’s take a stroll,” Wolverine yanked her out of her seat, flashing Bobby his teeth when the boy would’ve followed.

Loft

Gambit kicked the door shut behind them as he practically threw Ali into the bedroom, his eyes glowing faintly in his passion. He pulled his snug black tee over his head, tossing it across the room, uncaring where it landed. “I wan’ you so bad,” he rasped, pulling Ali to him, yanking her clothes off hurriedly.
“Remy?” Ali was all for aggressive sex, but this was different, Gambit’s movements were almost desperate.
“Don’ talk,” he said covering her mouth with his, his tongue sliding past her lips, hugging her close. “Jus’ let me love you, Ali.” He cradled her hips, holding her tight as he rubbed himself against her, making her gasp. Remy’s lips moved across her chin, down her neck, across her bare shoulders, down her tattooed arms, until he reached her hands where he kissed and sucked each finger. He kneeled before her, pulling her against him, his face pressed against her stomach, his arms wrapped tight around her. His breathing was labored, erratic…afraid.
Ali cradled his head in her arms, concern touching her aquamarine eyes. She webbed her fingers through his thick hair, whispering how much she loved him.
Gambit raised his head taking in the sight of her. Merde. She was unlike anyone he’d ever known. Her dark locks falling in wild disarray around her smooth peaches and cream face, her light eyes glittering down at him, her lips rosy from his kisses. She was damn adorable. A dark elf. Standing a little over 5’3” Ali was small, but powerful, with a slender frame, and delicate features that made her tough demeanor seem so much more endearing and intimidating all at once.
Slowly Gambit slid his hands along her thighs, his fingers edging under the skinny elastic of her red lace panties, sliding them down her well shaped legs. He groaned at the sight of her nakedness. “Je t’aime, ma petite bella.” He parted her legs insistently, kissing her in her most secret place, making her fingers bunch in his hair and her to gasp his name. Lovingly Gambit slid his mouth along her heated flesh, flicking his tongue against her, holding her hips as she moved against his face.
Alison surprised him, shoving him away from her. At his questioning look she smiled her imp smile. “Relax and trust me.” She pressed kisses along his chest, brushing his copper colored nipples with her tongue, moving down his well sculpted abdomen. Gambit jerked when he felt her breath stirring the hairs around his throbbing cock. Slowly, reverently Ali took him into her moist mouth, her tongue ring rubbing against the underside of him as she sucked, making him mad with pleasure. “Ali…Ali, fuck, my God…Uhhhnn…Alison. Merde.”
Ali shuddered, her entire being focused on the delicious sensations she was giving Remy with her tongue. She grunted in surprise when he lifted her and tossed her onto the bed, following her closely, his naked body pressing against hers. He lifted her legs around his hips, surging into her tight, wet core, groaning against her mouth. “Remy!” Ali climaxed as he entered her, screaming his name, her nails raking his back.
Gambit thrust into her, over and over, deeper and faster, desperate to lose himself in her. He cradled her head, kissing her fiercely, molding her to him, surging and rolling his hips. “You’re so tight and wet,” he groaned. “So wet.” He was shaking, trying to stave off his orgasm, wanting to watch her face again as she found fulfillment in his arms. She was his and only his. For all her worldly ways and tough as nails attitude Ali had been a virgin, with Gambit as her first. And last, he thought a bit angrily. No one was coming between him and Ali.
“Etienne,” she was frantic beneath him, panting as he brought her to the edge of her second orgasm.
“I’m ‘ere, bebe.” Gambit laced his fingers with hers. Pinning them above her head, rocking against her. “J’adore.” He licked her ear, teasing it with his warm breath, nipping it with his teeth. “You make dis Cajun crazy, chere. You’re da only one.”
“Oh, Oh my…” Ali pressed her heels into the firm tightness of his buttocks, arching against him, her mouth open as she cried out, light dancing overhead as she came.
Ali felt Gambit shaking, felt his shudders as he climaxed with her, buried deep inside, holding her so tight she couldn’t breathe. “I love you too, Remy,” she assured him as he whispered the endearment over and over in broken English and French.
“Forever, chere?”
She gave him a puzzled look. Forever was not something her and Gambit spoke of. They lived in the here and now. Two of a kind, energetic and carefree. She brushed her lips against his. “What’s wrong, Rem?”
He stroked her cheek. “Is it so ’ard t’ say da words, ma petite? Forever?”
Ali shrugged, “Not hard to say, no.” She eyed him speculatively briefly, and Gambit refused to meet her gaze head on. Feeling uncertain Ali pulled away from him. “I should go clean up.” She rolled from the bed, pulling the top sheet with her, wrapping it around her so that it trailed her as she went into the bathroom. Once the door was closed behind her she sank onto the edge of the bathtub, running one hand through her wild hair. Something felt amiss. She loved Gambit, loved everything about the Cajun charmer, but he was acting odd. He was the one who had told her that tomorrow was tomorrow, that today was all that mattered. So, why the forever? The desperate feeling she got from him? What had changed? She stood, running the water, splashing her face.
In the bedroom Gambit watched the closed bathroom door with dark eyes. He sat up, pulling open the drawer in the bed stand, reaching for his cigarettes. He inhaled deeply, letting the white cloud out on a slow breath. He heard the shower start and sighed. He had caught her off guard, he knew, but he had been unable to help himself. The idea of losing Alison made him physically ill. He took another drag of his cigarette, his eyes flashing red even in the light.

Xavier’s office

“Define ‘suspended’,” Storm said, her voice like ice.
Charles steepled his fingers, resting them against his chin. “It means no active duty for thirty days. They can train with the team, they can participate in meetings, but no active assignments.”
“Why? Because they risked their necks to save me and Scott?” Storm stood, hands planting on the desk in front of her.
“No. Because they defied a direct order, Storm. The X-Men are a team. What Alison and Wolverine did, should it go unpunished would only encourage that type of behavior from the other, less experienced students. It’s a behavior I can not condone and as Black squad team leader, you shouldn‘t either.”
Storm huffed, knowing that he was right, but hating to admit it, so she remained stoically silent. “What else?”
Charles was silent for a moment. “Being a leader means having to deal with issues and…complications, that often skew perception, without allowing them to do so. I have the utmost faith in you as a capable leader, Storm, which is why I feel you should know that I will be transferring leadership of Red squad over to you as well for the duration of Cyclops’s recovery.”
“Is there no one on his team capable of running it?”
“Jean or Beast would be the next most qualified, but Jean is an emotional wreck and though Henry is highly intelligent, his leadership skills are not where I need them to be to run a smooth team.” Xavier took out a small electronic device. “This was Scott’s schedule and planner. Take a look at it, and see if you can work out a training schedule for both teams.”
Storm took the PDA. “Anything else?’
Charles smiled at her brusque tone. “Yes. Could you give this to Wolverine. I believe he will find the contents useful.” He handed her a sealed manila envelope.
Storm took the envelope, feeling a small object sliding around within it. “What is it?”
“A piece of his past I believe.” Xavier nodded at her. “You are dismissed.”

Pool

Jubilee laid back in the lounge chair, sipping her iced tea and watching Bobby dive from the high dive. He sure was cute, she thought with a wider smile.
“Cut it out.” Wolverine growled at her. “Yer too damn young.”
Jubilee gave him a disgruntled look. “Who made you my Pappy?”
“I did. Now shut yer yap and listen to Pappy Logan.” He opened another beer, seemingly oblivious to the open mouthed look she was giving him. “What?” he asked grouchily when she continued to stare.
“You…you just told me your name,” she whispered.
Wolverine paused for a second, cocking his head. “So I did. Huh.” He rustled her hair. “Don’t tell nobody.” he growled in pseudo threat.
Jubilee grinned so big he could make out all of her teeth. Without warning she threw herself into his arms, resting her face against his bare chest, nearly knocking him out of his lounger. She pulled herself back hurriedly, straightening her glasses and replacing her grin with a semi serious expression, trying her damndest to look nonchalant. “Yeah, that’s cool.”
Wolverine chuckled drinking his brew.
“Mind if I join you?” Betsy Braddock strolled along the side of the pool, her lithe form clad in a very skimpy bikini, her high, firm breasts nearly spilling out of the dark purple top. She lowered the see-through sarong tied around her waist and took the chair beside Wolverine.
Wolverine grunted, his eyes flicking over her with male appreciation. Jubilee elbowed him in the side. “Married, remember?” she hissed at him.
Wolverine scowled at his dark haired sidekick, rubbing the spot she hit. “I remember.” he growled. Jubilee was nuts if she thought Bets had anything on ‘Ro.
“I could use some help with this sun block.” Betsy held out a bottle of Coppertone.
“Try wearin’ clothes. You tend not to burn as much,” Jubilee said with snap of her bubblegum and an angry frown.
Betsy ignored her. “Give me a hand, Wolverine?”
“Sure, Bets.” He took the bottle from her, squeezing a liberal amount onto his hands, rubbing it into Betsy’s back and shoulders.
“Mmm…You have great hands.” Betsy gave a soft moan, leaning forward and moving her hair to the side. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
“I tell him that all the time.”
Wolverine turned, flashing Ororo a wolfish smile that froze on his face at the sight of her in her swimsuit. Goddamn, his wife was fucking hot. She stood, clad in a soft pink two piece, barefoot with one hand on her hip, looking at him through dark shades, one silver eyebrow raised above the rims. Her mane of snow colored hair hung loose down her back and her deep caramel skin shimmered in the sun. Wolverine finished up Betsy’s shoulders, wiped his hands on his black shorts and pulled Storm into his arms. “Wife.”
“Mm. So you remembered you have one?” she teased.
For a moment Logan’s eyes left hers, and a subtle tension filled his body. He shook himself and ran his hands along her back. “How was yer meeting?”
“Ugh. Let’s not talk shop this afternoon.”
“Fine by me.” Wolverine sat, pulling her down onto his lap.
“Hi, Betsy,” Ororo greeted.
“Storm.” Betsy rolled onto her stomach, closing her eyes.
“Hey there, Jubes,” Ororo said with a smile.
“Hiya, Strom.” Jubilee grinned. “Don’t worry, I was keeping him in line.”
Storm lifted her glasses and winked at Jubilee. “Much appreciated.”
Wolverine nuzzled the back of Storm’s neck. “I missed ya,” he whispered.
Ororo leaned back into him, holding his arms as the circled her waist. “I can tell,” she whispered back. She reached down alongside the chair to where she dropped her bag. “Charles gave me this to give to you.” She handed him the envelope.
Without thinking Wolverine sliced it open, a gold band falling onto the ground, tinking against the cement. Ororo bent to retrieve it, frowning as she recognized it as a wedding ring. She held it out to him, questions written all over her face.





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