“Ororo. Ororo. Wake up.” A deep graveled voice was calling to her from a thousand miles away, through the thick fog surrounding her. Warm hands were firm on her shoulders, anchoring her to the here and now. “Darlin’? Wake up. Yer scarin’ us.”
Ororo slowly opened startled blue eyes. “Goddess, Logan, what happened?”
“Ya slipped on a patch of ice,” he said, glaring in the direction of one apologetic looking Bobby Drake. “Hit yer head pretty hard.” he added, helping her to her feet, holding her arm even as she stood on her own.
Ororo blushed, noticing all the stares. She turned her head, seeing Jean’s worried face in the archway behind her, waiting to walk down the aisle to her future husband. *Jean, I am so sorry.* Ororo sent, embarrassed.
*Are you all right?*
*Yes.*
*Had me worried.*
*Come, sister. Your future awaits.* Ororo turned, smiling a warm thanks at Logan. “Here we go.”
“Ya sure yer alright?”
Ororo remembered the dream she’d just had, of her and Logan together, of it being their wedding day and how happy she had been in those moments. Her heart screamed at her to tell him. Confess it all! She had desperately wanted to stay trapped in that dream world, with him. She shivered slightly as she remembered him touching her, kissing her, treating her like a woman and not a friend or a teammate, but a flesh and blood woman, his growly voice hot in her ear as he slid… “Fine, Logan. I am fine.” She ran one hand down the front of her dress, smoothing away imaginary wrinkles, avoiding his eyes.
It was a gesture most untypical of Ororo, who was known for her forthrightness and determination. Ororo backed down from nothing and no one. It was one of the many things Logan admired about her. That and her long legs, flat stomach, tight ass, great rack and lips that could…Ok. Settle down boy. He gave her hand a quick squeeze before retaking his seat, watching her with hooded watchful eyes as she approached the flower covered altar where Slim stood, anxiously waiting to make him and Jeannie official. As if they needed the ceremony. Jean and Scott were married long before today as far as everyone at the Institute was concerned.
Ororo took her place at the altar, flashing Scott an apologetic smile for her disruption of the ceremony. He inclined his head, a dimple on his cheek. Nothing could upset him today. Ororo tilted her head, noticing a dark cloud coming to cover the sun, she narrowed her eyes and it dissolved as though it never was. She smiled. Not today. Today Mother Nature took a back seat to Storm, mistress of the skies. It was her best friend’s wedding and not one thing, aside from her falling on her ass in front of everyone--again, was going to spoil it.
Jean proceeded down the aisle, her bright green eyes locked on the tall, handsome man with the red quartz glasses waiting for her. She looked beautiful in her white gown, the material whispering on the blades of grass as she walked. Her dark red hair was swept in an elegant chiffon that had taken Ororo over an hour to create and fifty pins to keep in place.
Leader, teacher, mutant, hairdresser. Hm. Not a bad list of qualifications. None of which apparently caught her a man of her own, but... She stiffened, lifting her chin slightly. Self pity was not an option for her. She had friends, she had a good home and she had a purpose. It was enough. Even as she thought it her blue eyes traveled the guests, unerringly finding the only man that made her heart stop dead and then redouble on sight of him. Logan. The Wolverine. She wondered how he was holding up today of all days. He had loved Jean intensely upon meeting her, and he had made no secret about his affection. More often than not Ororo felt it was to get a rise out of Scott, some sort of Alpha male thing, however, she also knew that Logan was not a man to give his affections lightly. If he said he loved Jean, he loved her. Looking at him now, she wondered if he was hurting inside. It was hard to tell with him. His gruff exterior hid so many things.
Logan felt like he was being watched and shifted slightly, an imperceptible movement that went undetected, but gave him a better vantage point to see the altar, and the woman who had laid slow siege to his heart over the years. Unbeknownst to Ororo, Logan was hurting, but not for the reasons she assumed. Watching Jeannie walk down the aisle to Scott was like watching a sunset. Beautiful and inevitable. They were meant to be. His chest was filled with a dull ache because he had wasted so much time, so many moments tossed away because of uncertainty or fear. He growled subtly. They were X-Men and being such required sacrifices. Friends lost and loved ones taken. It was a hard life with many trials, but the rewards were more than worth it and if the end result came anywhere near Xavier’s dream, then it would all be worth it. However, a life of danger did not have to mean a life of loneliness as Scott and Jean were pointing out as they stood before them all, hands clasped, reciting the vows Kurt Wagner instructed them to. Life was fragile, short, even for him and he hated the idea that he had wasted so much time. This could have been his wedding day. Should have been his wedding day.
He glanced up at Ororo. She was so breathtakingly stunning, the sunlight making her chocolate skin glow, the silver strands of her hair glittering, a few stray curls bouncing across her smooth shoulders. She had once been worshipped as a Goddess in Africa, and without a doubt he could see why.
“…You may kiss the bride.”
Jean and Scott embraced as though they had been apart for eons. It was a moving sight and Ororo felt tears mist her eyes. Keep it together. Just a few more hours. Then you can go to your greenhouse and toil and till until the pain fades into a numb ache like always. Breathe. Just breathe.
Once inside the mansion’s rarely used grand ballroom Jean and Scott took the floor for their first dance as husband and wife.
“Yer awfully quiet, darlin’.”
Ororo jumped at the sound of Logan’s deep voice, standing so close behind her that she could feel the warmth of his body through her dress. “After the spectacle I made of myself earlier, drawing attention is not something I wish to do,” she sad with a half smile.
“Hnh. That’s it?”
She turned slightly. “What else?”
“Weren’t yer fault ya fell. Popsicle sneezed.”
“Yes. Well, falling seems to be something I am doing a lot of lately.” She turned her gaze back to the couple waltzing around the room like they were the only two people in the world, and Ororo had a feeling for them, they were. The music shifted, the frst song ending and others joined Scott and Jean on the floor.
“Dance?” Logan asked, surprising her and himself.
“With you?” Ororo blinked.
“Nah, I thought maybe ya’d take this chair fer a spin. Yes, with me.”
Ororo nodded, setting the bouquet still clutched in her hand down on the silk covered table. Logan took her hand in his and led her onto the marble floor. They stepped together, bodies touching through fabric. He rested one hand in the small of her bare back, the other hand holding her slightly trembling one aloft. Without thought she tucked her head into his shoulder, breathing in his earthy male scent.
“’Roro.” He moved her across the floor, his natural predatory grace making his movements smooth and sure.
“Mm?” She leaned into a turn, her eyes closed, enjoying the feel o him with her.
His breath tickled the small hairs beside her ear as he whispered, “I‘m in love.”
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