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7. Revelations

“Ororo please join us in my office”

“What were you THINKING?” Scott yelled as he pacing in the office, his face as red as his eyes.

Ororo did not answer; her arms crossed at her chest and her face expressionless as she sat in Charles Xavier's office. Xavier had asked Ororo to join him in his office. What he hadn’t specified was that Jean and Scott would also be present.

“Scott” Jean tried to placate him. She looked outside the window and realized that although Ororo seemed outwardly calm, the weather outside was growing more unpleasant and foreboding with each passing moment and comment from Scott, something he wasn’t paying attention too.

“No Jean” Scott silenced her. “She needs to answer for her actions. What she did to Forge is unforgivable. She…she literally fried his leg. He won’t be able to stand let alone walk for at least a week. And for what….” he sneered. “….for that THING…that ANIMA…” he jumped back startled as a loud boom sounded in the sky outside the mansion.

“He…IS….NOT….AN…ANIMAL” Ororo’s eyes were shaded white, anger written all over her face, the telltale smell of ozone in the air. “He is a mutant….JUST…like you and me.” Scott tried to speak again but Jean telekinetically clamped his mouth shut.

“Ororo…” Xavier's deep soothing voice sounded for the first time since they had entered the room. He had sensed her emotional mood and didn’t want to do anything to that would ruffle her further. Ororo acting this way was something new to him too.

At the professor’s voice, Ororo seemed to draw back; her eyes clearing once again, her face regaining its stoic look. However, the storm outside continued to rage, a clear sign of the storm brewing inside the weather goddess.
“Scott….please….sit DOWN” stressed Xavier. Scott Summers, sat down next to Jean, scowling at her as his furrowed brow mirroring his crossed arms.
“Ororo” the professor smiled at her. “From what we have seen, you know Lo…Wolverine personally….even intimately.”
“Very” was the single word answer.
“Am I correct in saying that he is your *male* companion from your dreams and nightmares” he probed further.
“Yes”

Jean could sense that talking to the Professor was helping her friend regain control of her emotions. She had never seen Ororo put forth so many intense emotions and it was unnerving to see her this way. Even her nightmares couldn’t match the emotional responses she had given to the real person.

Xavier and Jean, both had seen and experienced Ororo’s nightmares, but even they had been unable to recognize Wolverine as the Logan of her dreams.

“Would you mind telling us about your experience with Wolverine,” Xavier was treading cautiously, so as not to alarm his erstwhile student and present team leader.

“NO” Ororo answered bluntly. “No yet…..I need time…”

“Very well” Xavier smiled at her. “I understand it has been a taxing night and you need your rest. However, I would like you to answer a couple of questions, before you leave. If that’s fine with you.”

At Ororo’s nod, Charles asked his first question. “When did you first meet Wolverine?” he took care of using Wolverine and not Logan. He wanted to honor Wolverine’s *request* that his real name was only for Ororo. He understood that it was a sort of defense mechanism on his part and was confident that once the feral mutant became comfortable and trusted them, he would allow them to use his real name.
“Eight years, three months and eleven days ago” Ororo answered to the point, impressing and stunning everyone with the accuracy of her memory.

“How old were you when you met him?” was the second question.
“Seventeen years and a few months old.”

“How old was he then?”
“Don’t know” Ororo asked frankly.

“Didn’t he tell you?” Scott interrupted. “Ow” he let out as Jean elbowed his ribs and gave him a *one more word and you’re dead* look.
“No” Ororo answered without looking at him.

Charles didn’t pursue that line, just asked “How old did he look?”
“As old as he looks now…..exactly the same.” “……Exactly the same” she repeated a second time, more to herself than to the others in the room.

“How can that be” Jean asked, unable to contain her own curiosity. “How can he look the same? He must have aged?”
Ororo seemed unwilling to answer her question. “He…..doesn’t age” she answered finally.

“Doesn’t age’ blurted out both of the younger mutants. The professor just nodded his head. Ororo’s words had just confirmed the information he had about the elusive Wolverine.

“His *Healing Factor*” mused the Professor. Ororo merely nodded her head. “Healing Factor?” questioned Jean. She had seen Wolverine’s healing factor working, but didn’t know about its strength or to what extent it healed him.

“Yes Jean” Xavier pulled a file from the drawer and slid it across the table. Jean picked and opened it, her eyes widening as she looked sideways at Scott, who seemed equally astonished by the data and pictures before him.

“Professor according to this…..” Jean began.
“Yes Jean….Wolverine’s age is unknown. As you might see, one of the photographs is from the Second World War. Look to the person in the top right corner….” he waited as Jean fingered through the various photographs to arrive at the correct one.
“How…” her green eyes further widened as she recognized the person in the black and white photograph.
“As you can see….” “The soldier in the picture is the same person we have under our roof. Moreover, he looks the same as he does now. I suspected it earlier, but Ororo’s words just confirmed my suspicions.” “Wolverine fought in the Second World War….in the Canadian military.”

The room’s occupants were silent as the information sunk in. if what the professor was true, which he was, that would mean that Wolverine was at least eighty five years old….maybe even older.

“Professor Do we know, how old he exactly is?” inquired Scott.
“No Scott” “The oldest records which I have been able to gather, from the files from the lab and from the information Ororo and Forge obtained from Washington….show that he was born sometime in the late 1800s.”
“1800s….” was all his student could say. ‘That would make him over a hundred years old.’
“Yes” smirked Xavier at their bewildered expressions. “I guess somewhere between hundred and twenty five and hundred and fifty years old.”
----

Meanwhile, in another part of the mansion

Kitty Pryde stood silently observing the strange happening in front of her. She had brought Wolverine to his room and stood at the door, waiting as he checked the room out.

“What are you doing?” she asked timidly, unable to contain her curiosity any more.
Wolverine merely grunted at her question, effectively stopping any more talk, let alone a question from the nervous teenager.

“Hey…What are you doing?” Kitty exclaimed. Having checked out the room, Wolverine had turned his attention to the wisp of a girl. He was giving her a once over – smelling her. “What are you doing?” she asked again, feeling self-conscious.

Having finished his inspection, Wolverine stepped back into the room, motioning her to follow him. “Hey half-pint….come in” he said, using the latest of his nicknames for the mansion residents.
Thanking him, she made her way to the center of the room.
“This is for you” she motioned to the box lying on the bed. It was a simple cardboard box, except for the large ‘X’ on the top.
“What is it?” Wolverine looked at her warily. During his inspection, he did not detect any warning smell from the box and had disregarded it.
“Clothes and stuff….you know….for you” she answered, flipping the top open. The box contained three set of standard x-men issue sweatshirts and pants, a pair of white shorts, a few t-shirts, towels and toiletries.
“You might want to get washed up before breakfast,” advised Kitty. The words were barely out of her mouth, when Wolverine started to peel off his dirty, slightly wet clothes. She immediately turned away, her throat dry and her eyes bulging at the sight of the naked man….so near to her.
“Kid….ya wait here,” Wolverine instructed her as he made his way to the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his shoulders.
“Uh…Ok” muttered Kitty, unable to turn to face the now ‘naked’ Wolverine. She shook her head, trying to lose that mental image.

----

Xavier’s office

Xavier had just finished discussing all the information his sources had provided him – about the elusive ‘Wolverine’. He was rumored to be the best assassin in the world. His skill and reputation were comparable with Elektra. However, while Elektra was human and used weapons, Wolverine was a mutant with his own inbuilt weapons – his claws. Also, while Elektra was a free lance agent, working for money; Wolverine was *owned* by the secret government organization in charge of the Weapon X project.

Ororo sat silently; stunned by the news Xavier had given her.

A few minutes earlier,

“So his whole skeleton is covered with metal” Scott had gone through the *Weapon X* file they had taken from the lab, from where they had *rescued* Wolverine. “Adamnatium” That was the metal’s name
“Yes” Xavier sighed. “The metal is the strongest in the world, extremely rare and almost impossible to process. It has to be kept it in liquid form, because once solidified, it cannot be worked on again. The only reason he survived the bonding process is due to his healing factor.” “However, I feel that the experiments and bonding process has caused him to lose his memory…well most of it” he amended, recalling that Wolverine still remembered Ororo.
“And that is when he got those….Claws” mused Jean, remembering the ten inch long claws, she had also been on the receiving end of.
“I believe so,” Xavier said.

“No” Ororo spoke for the first time since they had started discussing the Weapon X matter. “It’s a part of his mutation. He had the claws earlier too….but they were bone claws.”
“Bone…” Jean whispered. “So you have seen them earlier?” she asked, wondering how anyone could *not* be afraid of those claws.
“Of course” Ororo answered incredulously, staring at Jean as if she had said the most *obvious* thing in the world.

“We will continue this at a more opportune time” Xavier had sensed that Wolverine was ready and was looking for Ororo. “I believe your presence is desired at another place” he smiled at Ororo.

“Thank you Professor” Ororo thanked him, leaving the room immediately.

“I don’t like this” Scott declared, once Ororo was out of hearing distance. “I don’t like him and I definitely do not like what he’s done to her.”
“Scott” Jean tried.
“No Jean, not anymore,” he pushed her hand away. “He’s a loose cannon and he’s turning her into one. You yourself saw what she did to Forge. He was just trying to help her – protect her from that…..Wolverine” he bit the word animal back. “And what does she do? How does she thank him? She electrocutes him.”

“Scott I believe that that was not the case” Xavier stated calmly. Jean had informed him about the events of the holding cell.
“Yes Scott” Jean spoke up. “I also think that what she did was wrong, but Forge was the one who made the first move. He carries an equal amount of blame, if not more.”
“BLAME” Scott sounded shocked. “How can you say that? He was trying to help her.”
“NO” Jean replied with equal fervor, “Helping her was the last thing on Forge’s mind. He wanted to hurt Wolverine…..cause him pan” she added, voicing the thoughts she had sensed from her injured teammate.
“Why would he do that?” Scott asked unbelievingly.
“Because of Ororo” clarified Jean. “And the way she was acting towards Wolverine.”
“Why?” Scott was still confused.

“Jealousy” was the single word answer.

Scott burst out laughing. “Je….Jealousy” he managed between laughs. “Good one Jean. You almost had me going there.” “Forge jealous of that Neanderthal.”

“Yes Scott” Jean answered. Her serious tone conveying that she wasn’t joking. “He’s jealous of Wolverine, because of his own personal feelings towards Ororo.”

Scott was silenced at her revelation. He knew about Forge’s feelings towards Ororo and his efforts to *try* and date her. They had been discussing the same thing before the holding cell incident happened.

Both Forge and Ororo were his friends and teammates, and he was happy that they seemed to be drawing closer. Even he had noticed that Ororo’s hard exterior was somewhat softened by the Cheyenne Indian. ‘Maybe she’ll finally get over that *Logan* and move on with her personal life’ was the thought he had had, but that was before…..

Now he wasn’t sure anymore. Logan, or rather Wolverine was here and any emotions Ororo might have had towards Forge were washed away by the flood of emotions that *HE* inspired in the normally stoic Storm. It was too late for Forge.

….Or was it?

----

“Mr. Wolverine…we should go downstairs for breakfast” Wolverine wasn’t even paying attention to the young mutant.

Stepping out of his room, he had sniffed around and caught Ororo’s scent immediately. Following the scent, he was making his way towards Ororo’s loft apartment.
“Mr. Wolverine” Kitty tried again, but a smooth melodious voice, silenced her.
“I’ll take it from here Kitten,” Ororo said as she reached near them.
“Uh…Thank you Ms. Monroe” Kitty was gone in an instant, phasing through the floor to the dining room.

“Looking for me?” Ororo asked impishly. The soft growl and the way in which Wolverine grabbed her and pulled her to him, answered her question.
“’Ro” he growled, nuzzling into her neck as they had done earlier.
“Logan” Ororo moaned breathlessly.

The next moment she knew was that they were in Logan’s room, the door locked as he carried her to the bed, their lips never leaving each others.

-----

*SNIKT*

Within a flash, Ororo’s nightgown was shredded, revealing her to the heated gaze of the feral mutant.
“’Ro” Logan whispered, drawing closer to breathe deeply at the valley between her breasts. “’Ro” he said again, reveling in her earthy scent. Just hers – the vanilla and sandalwood.
Ororo knew what he was doing. He always did this….even in her dreams. He was refreshing his memories of her scent. He did this just as other people memorized faces and other physical features.

“Uhn…Logan” she moaned as he turned sideways, rubbing his stubble on one engorged nipple, taking its counterpart into his mouth and gently suckling at it. “Lo…..Logan…..” her entire body was on fire, his mere touch converting years of ache into hot, raw desire. Threading her long fingers into his thick raven hair, he pulled him nearer as she arched, trying to get more of herself into his mouth. There could be no other….no one….only him…only Logan.

----

“GRRR…” Logan gave an angry growl, his passion turning to anger as his nostrils caught something. Something he almost missed; lost in his desire for the dusky beauty writhing before him.

Ororo’s eyes snapped open as Logan leapt off the bed, his metal claws extending, ready to attack.

“What happened?”





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