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By Linage and RefleX

“You ok ‘Ro? I heard ya cry out fer me,” Wolverine stood at her door, his steel gray eyes staring at her trying to figure out what was wrong. It had been only days since Logan had impaled the man named Victor Creed; better known as Sabertooth, with his claws giving the monster his “final” glow. It was not that final though, Creed had survived it but now was more or less a vegetable. The night it happened Logan took to sleeping outside where as he had said “animals” belonged. It was Storm, his ‘Ro that had come out to him as a friend to help him. He heard her cry while he stood above her window and decided it would be best if he came to her door instead of through her window. He knew that she had nightmares every so often after what Hodge of the Phalanx had done to her. Logan would never forgive himself for that. He should have been there faster. He also felt the hail beginning to fall as he landed on a balcony from the roof. She was having a nightmare, a bad one.

“I…I had a nightmare.” Ororo replies as her mind finally grasps reality. She had a dream about Logan, about them on a date and they making love. It felt so real; she could still feel her body quivering. She had to control it for her own sake.

“I could tell. The storm outside is intense Darl’n.” Logan answered as he looked upward toward her skylight. He knew she had to take control quickly or the weather would become worse. That was when he smelt it LUST. He was taken back for a moment as he realized it was coming from Ororo. He could smell her, the heat from her, the pure sexuality. He could smell the same smell on Psylocke after she and Warren were alone together for an extended period of time, or on him when he had sex.

“Wha..,” was all Storm could say as she had followed Logan’s eyes skyward to see the hail slapping her window. “I am sorry old friend.” Within seconds the storm died out and the peace returned.

“Its okay ‘Ro. I was just worried was all fer ya,” Logan replied trying to shake her smell from his nostrils. “Ya need’n anything Darl’n?” Logan asks before he even thought.

“I am..am fine Logan.” Ororo answers from her mind. Her heart yelling “YES YOU!”

“I can stay for the night if ya want Darlin. I’ll even sleep on da floor,” Logan grins, his canines showing. It was amazing how his mutation had progressed without the presence of the adamantium. To Ororo though he was her wild man.

“If you wish Logan, but you are welcome to sleep with me as long as you don’t scratch me,” Ororo says jokingly.





---Three years later---

Over the last three years the X-Men have had there share of joy, pain, hardship and rejoicing. They have survived many ordeals from Sentinel Primes to Xavier’s twin sister. Each trail testing the bond of each individual X-Man including the latest tribulation. Jean Gray becoming the Phoenix once more and taking to the stars, never willing to return. None though has had it harder than Logan, the Wolverine. He became a pawn of Apocalypse, as his horseman Death, then dying. He was then brought back to life as a near mindless killer, and though it was Stick and Electra that was able to detain him, Ororo was his tether back, but not before he killed Northstar. It was this and watching Jubilee through her trails that hurt him the most.

Logan stood by the window in the study watching Ororo’s greenhouse, wondering if he should go and speak with her. He had not in so long, not really. He was allowing her to slip away, something he hated but decided to permit due to his inability to protect those women he loved. Logan watched for any movement, still contemplating when he witnessed his friend Kurt enter the greenhouse. Logan casts his eyes downward, taking a deep inhale, filling his lungs then exhaling. He knew of Kurt’s interest in Ororo, ever sense the two of them waltzed, he knew and allowed Kurt to try.

“Logan why do you watch her from here when you should tell her.” The intruder’s voice was cool, nearly ice.

“Non ya business Emma,” Logan answers curtly. He didn’t mind Emma as much as he once did, but he still found her difficult to swallow at times. Logan also couldn’t forgive her for driving the last wedge in between Slim and Red. He knew Emma began it as a game, because she didn’t like Jeannie but then fell head over hills in love with Scott. Served her right he thought.

“She’s not interested in Kurt, or at least in that department,” Emma retorted, a smile appearing on her face.

“I suggest ya not come near me less you have a death wish Emma or its important,” Commanded Logan.

“Actually Scott wishes to speak to you.” Emma grins, knowing how to push Logan’s buttons. “Its about a mutant in New Orleans.”

“Send da Cajun.”

“This requires a personal touch Wolverine and besides Scott is actually going as well. He wants back-up.” Emma turns as she continues “Besides Gambit is with Rogue on leave as of last night.”

“Why?” Asks Logan waiting for her answer, still watching the greenhouse, spying Rachael as she came into view. “This might get interesting.” Logan says silently.

“Because they are in a relationship. You do know what that is don’t you. Its where two people get together…” Before she could finish her sentence Logan shot across the room, grabbing the white queen around the throat hoisting her in the air against the wall.

“Ever since I came back from Apocalypse its harder for a telepath to try and control me. You want to try Frail because I am in the mood to snap your neck right here. Don’t push it,” growled Logan. His fingers tighten around Emma’s throat as she gasps out.

“ Can..Can I help it if you..” Emma tries to swallow “you’re a coward when it comes to..to her.”

“Logan!” Cyclops actively states, his visor glowing red. “Put her down!”

Logan looks at the man named Cyclops, growling deeply. “Your lucky day Emma. I don’t feel like having Scooter mourn another woman. He drops her as he begins to walk out. Scott allowing him room to leave. He’ll talk to Logan later, but right now he had to check Emma.

“One day you’ll push to hard and he’ll kill you Emma.” Scott reluctantly explains. “What did you say to him?”

“Called him a coward,” Emma rubs her throat her voice sounding ruff.

“That was smart,” smirked Scott. “Why?”

“You and I both know why Love.” Coldly Emma began to rise.

“Ororo.” Scott places a hand near Emma’s neck examining it. He could see the bruises beginning to show on her fair skin. “Lets get you down to the lab so you can get something for that.”

“He is dangerous.”

“Yes he is but he’s on our side.” Replies Scott. “Do you want to know why Logan will not approach Ororo?”

“No.”

“He’s afraid, but not because he is a coward Emma. HE feels as though he won’t be able to protect her. Look at Silverfox, Mariko, all the women he cared for,” says Scott. “ They are all dead. Killed by Sabertooth or others.”

“Its not his fault Scott.”

“He doesn’t see it that way.”
--Outside”

“RROOAAAARRRRRR!!!!!”

“Oh great, sounds as though Logan had a round with Scott, or Emma, or both.” Kurt answers as he turns away from Ororo who had been working on her plants, enjoying the talk she and Kurt was having.

“I better go,” remarked Ororo as she brushed off her hands, that were caked in mud and soil.

“I know you can handle him Mein Freund, but perhaps he needs to calm down more.” Responds Kurt rubbing his head.

“No, I think I can handle him.”

“Would you like me to teleport you near him Schöne Frau?” (beautiful woman)
asks Kurt trying to be helpful.

At that moment Rachael walks into the green house, a smile on her face, mixed with an uncomfortable look in her eyes.

“Roro I think you might want to handle Logan before he slices out of his clothes, though it wouldn’t be a bad idea to wait. I can see what my mother saw in him.” Rachael giggles as she blushed, knowing Kurt was there. “His eyes, those muscles, that animal machismo. Makes a girl feel all warm and squishy inside.”

Kurt’s face told the story, a look of shock and dismay plastered on it. Ororo walked past Rachael as she thought. “Like mother like daughter.”

“I heard that.” Rachael mindspeaks to Ororo.

--The next afternoon----

Cyclops and Wolverine fly the blackbird toward New Orleans, both enjoying the quiet moment until Logan speaks….

“So why really are we goin ta New Orleans for this guy?” Logan opens up a file he had read recently.

“I told you, to ask him to join us.” Rebuffs Scott, his voice on edge. An edge Logan could see.

“Old friend?” Asks Logan.

“What?”
“You know him.” It was a statement not a question.

“You could say that.” Scott answered. “We went to school together.”

“At Xavier’s?” Logan asked.

“There were only five original X-Men Logan, but there were more students.”

“So tell me the story. What’s not in the mission brief.”

“He and I were friends, pretty good ones in fact. One day it changed and went down hill. He didn’t believe in the Professor’s goals, thought that they were as extreme as the other sides. Would say the Professor had his telepathic head up his astral ass.” Scott tenses as he explains to Logan. “That and I started to date is cousin Jean.”

Logan’s eyebrow raised slightly remembering Jean had spoken of her cousin Jack, though Logan never had the opportunity to meet him.

“Report says he’s a homicide cop in the big easy, has been for several years. Made Lieutenant faster than most, also says his mutant powers allow him to see into the past by reading objects, enhanced reflexes, some type of Danger sense like Spider-Man, also something to do with a type of reincarnation sense. Attended Xavier’s for three years, went to college at LSU.” Logan continues to read. “Also says he could see things astral as well as ethereal, followed by a type of photographic reflexes. Pretty interesting but why give a rat’s ass.”

“It’s also his knowledge and sharp mind we’ll need. That and I owe it to Jean.”

“Why is that?” Logan asked quizzically.

“They were close for awhile. Jack could always get her to laugh when we all could not. He was her stone in more ways than I ever was. He was the only real family she had left.”

“Well interesting as that is I take it the reason I’m here is to make sure you don’t do something you’ll regret One-Eye.”

“Yes.”

Meanwhile near Salem center, in Westchester County a confrontation is about to begin.


“Ororo please come to my office.” Emma telepathically spoke to the white haired Nubian princess named Ororo Monroe; the world though knows her as STORM.

“Emma can it wait? I was going to take a bath.” Ororo replied mentally. Today was a long day for her as she taught classes, as well as handled two disputes between different class teams. She could not remember when she felt so much stress. She took a deep breath as she actually could remember…”Last time Logan left.”

“Please,” insisted the white queen. “I have to speak to you.”

Ororo furrowed an eyebrow in amazement and slight apprehension. Emma and She did not try to pretend to get along, both women strong-willed and determined, although Emma was more materialistic and enjoyed drama more than she admitted. Every time Emma was near Ororo could feel her skin crawl with disgust, she still could not forgive Emma for what she did to Jean. She could remember seeing Jean upset and their conversation after Jean had called someone.

---Flashback---

“I know what I saw Jack. My husband is sleeping with that blonde Slut!” Jean’s voice a loud whisper, trying not to scream.

A slight pause over from Jean indicated she was listening to the person on the other end. Jean’s face visibly angst as she is listening to what this “Jack” had to say. “I know. The bad thing is I went to Logan and tried to seduce him.” Another pause. “No he told me it wasn’t like that anymore, and that he and I were only friends.”

Ororo heard Jean speak those words and her heart jumped. Logan told Jean they were only friends.

“I know it was stupid, God I hate Scott so much at this point. I just wanted to hurt him as much as he hurt me,” tears began to fall down the redhead’s cheeks. “What am I suppose to do Jack? I love him so much.”

“No you don’t need to come up here, your needed in New Orleans.” With this Ororo’s shock was evident. Who was Jean speaking too? Moreover, why was she listening to Jean’s private conversation?

At this point Ororo decided to make herself known to Jean. “Jean is there anything the matter?”

Jean looked toward Ororo and motioned for a moment as she finished with her conversation. “Thank you Cousin for listening. No, I don’t think it would be a good idea if I came down there either. You are married to your job and it wouldn’t be fair of me to dump on you. Hey look I need to go, I think I have someone here I can dump on.” Jean laughs slightly as she listens to the person. “No I don’t think Scott needs to be placed in a holding cell in the purple section over night. I love you too.”

Jean hung the phone up on the wall and ran over to ‘Roro gripping her tight. “Men are Assholes,” Jean says to Ororo as she cries a little more.

“Do you wish to go somewhere and talk Jean?” Ororo replies comforting Jean.

“Yeah I want to go get drunk,” answers Jean. “Men just make me want to become gay.”

Ororo laughs slightly as she and Jean begin to walk out of the mansion. “So what did your husband do?”

Jean looked into Ororo’s eyes and began to break down again. She looked as though her world was coming down around her. “He is sleeping with Emma.”

“What?!”

--Present”

Ororo knocked on Emma’s office door waiting for the blond ice queen’s voice. After a moment, she heard Emma say come in. As she entered the office, Emma was sitting at her large oak desk, a picture of Scott on the mantle behind her to the left. This was the Professor’s office and where the picture of Scott stands once stood the pictures of the X-Men. Ororo didn’t enjoy the fact that the White Queen had made herself at home.

“What do you need of me Emma Frost?” Ororo asked, her tone colder than usual.

“I don’t need anything from you Ororo,” Emma stated “ I wanted to speak with you.”

“About what?” Ororo didn’t sit down, she remained standing, her stance defiant and regal.

Emma grinned slightly, enjoying this posturing from Ororo. It was one of the things she enjoyed about Ororo. You knew where you stood with weather witch, much like the Wolverine.

“Actually three things. One Forge is coming to the mansion, he needs cerebra but also wished to speak to you. Two Logan went with Scott to New Orleans to try and get Jean’s cousin to come here and become head of the homicide division of the XSE. Three even though its none of my business personally but professionally it could harm this institute or the X-Men in general, what is going on between You, Wolverine, Nightcrawler, and Marvel Girl?”

Ororo was taken back by the White Queen’s direct line of information and her question. She quickly regained her composure though and began to speak.

“First I don’t really think Forge and I have anything to discuss, second the Professor tried to bring Jean’s cousin here more than once but was refused. What makes you think he will come now? Third, personally it is none of your business but professionally Kurt and I are only friends and he is like a brother to me. Logan.” She paused. “We are only friends.” Emma could hear the slight disappointment and ache in Ororo’s voice. “Rachael reminds me of her mother in many ways, though she possesses her Father’s tenacity.”

“I just wanted to tell you Forge was coming. That way you are not surprised, although he wanted it to be. I don’t owe him anything, and though he once was an X-Man he no longer is. What he does is none of my business as long as he doesn’t cause any undue waves within this school or team.” Emma turned to the window as she continues.” Jonathan was asked at the request of a letter from Jean. Scott went to deliver it personally.”

Emma’s eyes closed as she exhaled faintly harder, as though a greater weight was on her chest. “I don’t want to see Logan become hurt Ororo. Do you?”

“How dare you even use his name Queen,” Ororo was becoming furious. “ I know, more than you or any other, the depth of his heart. He is my best friend, something you don’t have experience in.” The clouds became dark, thunder rolled in the distance.

The last statement cut Emma like a dull knife, she didn’t show it. “I take it as a no then?”
Emma asked.

“You assumed right.” Ororo answered, her emotions being reeled in.

“I don’t need to be a telepath to know that you are in love with Wolverine. I suggest that you and he need to talk about it before something happens.” Emma got out of her chair, walking to the door. “Now if you will excuse me I have to finish up my paper work so I can evaluate the hellions.”

“What is your angle Emma?” Storm asks as she walks toward the door that is now being held open by Emma Frost.

“As hard as it is to believe Storm I actually have respect for you and Wolverine. Though I am not welcomed by this dysfunctional family I do what is best for you all out of the love I have for Scott.” With this Emma shut the door as Ororo made it in the hall.

Meanwhile in New Orleans’ lower ninth ward a tall blonde headed man walks into the coroner’s office. His name is Detective Jonathan Anthony Mitchell, he has worked for the greater New Orleans Police Department for ten years. He was born to Alexander Mitchell and Michelle Grey, his mother was John Grey’s sister. His cousin was Jean Grey, former member of the mutant terrorist known collectively as the X-Men. In his youth he even attended Xavier’s institute for the gifted to help control his mutation as did his cousin. His abilities were different from that of his cousin Jean in which hers included Telepathy and Telekinesis, his included heightened perception that includes post-cognition, a danger sense allowing him to feel danger seconds before an event happens, detail orientation, photographic and autographic memory, photographic reflexes, as well as some kind of reincarnation awareness. His second mutation was that he possessed reflexes at the speed of thought. His last mutation was some type of combat awareness that allowed him to match any person he faced move for move. Along with his photographic reflexes, his combat awareness allowed him to quickly become one of the greatest hand-to-hand combatants ever known.

“Morning Alan what’s the good word?” Jonathan asked the coroner. He had known Alan for a few years, they even hung out on their off time sometimes.

“Not the Saints that’s for sure.” Alan replied. “So are you on this case Jack?”

“Yeah placed on it an hour ago by the Lieutenant,” Jack looked at the bones on the table, found only days ago near Old River Road. It had began with the belated discovery of human remains reduced to the 206 component bones of the skeleton. Found near the forested area of River Park across the river, some scattered over twenty acres. Every last bone was recovered miraculously after an intensive five day search by police and more than ninety volunteers. The discovery made large headlines to the media as the “mystery bones” teased both sides of human nature. The entire city seemed to find something intimately sad and ultimately vulnerable about this unknown individual. No one knew whose life had been destroyed in that forest, nor how long they had been dead.

The basic nature of the person’s death, which had been learned was a woman, seemed in little doubt. With two thirds of the remains that was unearthed from a shallow grave after the other third had somehow reached the surface, one being snuffed out by a walking dog. Damage done to a number of the bones-fractured skull, crushed hyoid, chipped ribs, and more-further suggested the violence of foul play. But was the evidence antemortem, and therefore evidence of wounds inflicted by a murderer, or merely caused by postmortem scavengers and/ or environmental conditions? The answer was probably both, some damage caused by the murderer and some by scavengers, but which was which?

This all ran through Jacks head as he studies the bones of the Jane Doe who now made her home on the forensics table of Dr. Alan Moorehead.

“So are you ready to start Jackie boy?” replied Alan as he looked over at the Jane Doe.

“Ready? Always,” answers Jack methodically studies the bones vigilantly. “Was there any tissue left?”

“A little, I removed as much as I could before I boiled them clean. Before you ask I have the samples preserved.” Alan responded.

“It looks like a female European approximately twenty-five to thirty-five, five-seven to five-nine in height.” Says Jack.

“What else?” Alan asks.

“Other teeth features and bone conditions, including what appears to be a childhood leg fracture, further indicate a good diet, excellent dental and medical care, and a fairly sedentary lifestyle. In other words, a woman of relative privilege rather than deprivation. Her life was short but not hard.” Jack turns to look at Alan grinning and takes it that he wishes Jack to continue. “Well there is no bumps, calcified ridges, nicks, specific ware or noncongengenital deformities. A transversed crooked spine for example would be characteristic of a longtime postman slinging his heavy load over his shoulder. But if I had to make a guess this woman was either a neat-freak or devoutly religious.”

“Why is that?” Asked Dr. Moorehead.

“The patella.” Jack pointed to the knee joints, “And the tibia, both of them. This wear here and build up here-especially for someone her age-suggests she either prayed a lot, and I mean hours, or scrubbed every inch of her floor on a regular basis. She spent more time doing something on her knees, far more than the average person.”

“You know you missed your calling Jack.” Alan replied.

“So I have been told by a cousin. So what about the trauma?” Asks Jack as he looks at the fractured skull.

Alan lifted the skull as he began to speak…
“First we have the skull fractures in the occipital and right parietal regions, multiple and overlapping. It indicates the victim was struck several times, with different degrees of force, the angles suggest from behind by a right-handed individual wielding a blunt object and downward as well. She probably was stooped or seated when it happened. Then there is this,” Alan responds as he places the skull down and picks up a u shaped bone. “Crushed hyoid, typical of choking.”

“Usually by gouging thumbs.” Jack adds.

“Yeah. Also multiple chips and scoring to the carpus, metacarpus, radias, and ulna, all inflicted with a sharp instrument. Its all characteristic of defensive wounds.”

“Well that tells a lot.” Jack says as he places his hand on the skull. It happens immediately as he opens his mind to the history of this person. Flashes of insight that his mutant abilities give him, then after a moment, he sees her entire life. Her name was Nicole Melbourne, she was born in France to a family well off. She moved to America to come to college and met a man named Simon. She was in love with him, but she wanted more than Simon could offer. She broke it off with him, and he stalked her. HE felt the murder, saw it, lived it.

“COME OUT OF IT JACK JESUS!!” Yelled Alan, “I hate when you do that.”

“Yeah I know.” Jack rubs his head as if suffering from a headache.

“What did you see?”

“All of it.”

AS Jack replies to Alan the doors open casually to reveal a man in red glasses along with a short gruff man. The taller man looks at Jack, a grim expression on his face. In his hand a letter addressed to Jack. Jack is the first to say something…

“Scott been awhile. The wedding I believe?” asked Jack.

“Whose this?” Alan Asked.

“Jeans husband Scott and a friend; I believe the name is Logan, though we never met.”

-----So please tell me what you think.....





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