Logan sat propped against the painted wood of the larger of the three windowsills, clad only in his red boxer briefs, his bare back pressed to cool glass as he silently observed the woman sleeping not three feet away from him. He took a long drag off of his cigar, savoring the taste before a slow exhale, the blue-gray cloud filtering through the slight opening of the window, drifting into the snow swirling morning.
Ororo was much like a fine cigar, he thought, wincing slightly at the unromantic analogy, but it was true. She was strong and bold, rare and best savored slowly, her taste lingering on his pallet. He shifted against the sill, propping his leg and resting his forearm across his knee, the cigar dangling from loose fingers.
Ororo rolled onto her side and her long hair spilled across the bed in a snowy cascade. He loved her hair. Soft, softer than any silk he‘d ever felt, it flowed about her face like a sleek cloud, its color and texture defying description.
She defied description, he corrected. She was unlike anyone he had ever met, and he’d run across every sort of person one could run across in his time. Her stubborn pride and determination were akin to his own, but where he was a loner by choice, and avoided close relationships with people, Ororo was fiercely protective of those that she considered friends. She was duty bound to the X-Men, and he knew that she would fight for Chuck’s ideology fiercely, but more than that she would fight for those that she referred to as her family. She was loyal to a fault, and it humbled him to think that she loved him.
She was mumbling in her sleep, as she had done for most of the night. He knew she hadn’t rested well, tossing and turning until well after dawn. He pondered what plagued her dreams, keeping her from sleep.
Logan tossed the burning remains of his cigar out the window before returning to the bed. He was about to lay back beside her when he heard the muffled buzzing of his cell phone vibrating against the floorboards through his carelessly discarded jeans.
With several muttered words, he picked up his pants, pulling the phone from the front pocket. “Yuh.” He answered. “No.” He turned away from the bed, lowering his voice. “Look, I said I’d get there when I get there. No. I ain’t yer beck and call boy, so yer just shit outta luck. Yeah. Fine, whatever… When I‘m damn good and ready.” He snapped the phone shut, running a hand over his face and expelling an irritated breath.
“Problems?” Ororo was propped up on one elbow looking at him, her sleepy blue eyes showing concern.
For him, he realized with a surprised clench in his gut. He couldn’t remember the last time a person looked at him like they cared about what was going on with him. Even Jeannie, who he was certain had loved him to a degree, had like so many others, assumed he didn’t want to be cared about.
“Nothin’ for you ta worry about.” He yawned, an almost roar-like sound coming from him. “What?” he asked when she laughed.
“Nothing.” Ororo smiled.
“Hnh.”
“Oh, no. Not that again. I thought we were passed the grunting phase.”
She should have known what his response would be, but it gave her chills regardless when his lips curled and his canines flashed. “We ain’t never gettin’ past the gruntin’ phase, darlin‘.” He crouched low and lunged at her.
Ororo squealed, laughing out loud as he pinned her to the bed in a tangle of limbs and sheets. “You are such a pervert,” she teased.
His eyes flashed and his mouth curved in the sexiest of smiles. The man literally exuded sex appeal. “You have no idea.”
Ororo wrapped her arms around him, her fingers threading through thick ebony strands. “Show me.”
Logan was just about to do just that when they were interrupted by pounding on the bedroom door. “Wake up, lazy ass!”
Ororo stifled an amused groan. Ali.
“She’s busy, Sparkler! Go away!” Logan called over his shoulder. He sniffed. “You too, Elf!”
“Logan!” Ororo couldn’t believe he just announced his presence in her room like that, so nonchalantly, like it was perfectly normal for them to be interrupted mid foreplay.
“What?” He glanced down at her.
“I didn’t think we’d be broadcasting where you spent the night is all.”
“I’d think that thunderstorm this morning was broadcast enough.”
Ororo blushed, remembering the blinding flashes of lightning filling her bedroom as Logan had shown her how fun handcuffs could be.
She wiggled from beneath him, tugging the sheet and wrapping it around her torso. “That’s not the point.”
Logan’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Then what exactly is the point?”
“I just don‘t think we need to make our relationship gossip fodder--”
“You ashamed?” He interrupted suddenly, his voice was more growl than anything.
“What? No! Of course not. I just thought it best to give everyone time to adjust…give us time to adjust, Logan. We don’t even know how this will work…or how it will affect other people.”
He gave her a heavy look. “You mean Jean.”
She tensed at that. “Well, you and she do have history.”
“Yeah, and it’s just that, ‘Roro. History.”
She cast him a speculative glance. “If you say so, Logan.”
He sat up, clearly frustrated in more ways than one. “Just what in the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Ororo turned her face away, wishing she hadn’t opened her mouth.
“Well?” he prompted when she remained silent.
She sighed, returning her gaze to his. “It means I saw the way she looked when she saw us together last night, Logan. And I know you saw it too.”
“So what?”
“So what? So, this is a woman you were willing to kill for not a year ago, you can‘t tell me those feelings have completely died off like they didn‘t exist.”
He chuffed, but didn’t confirm or deny that statement. “I repeat, so what?” There was a rough edge to his voice and Ororo wondered if she’d somehow hurt him.
“Logan--”
“Look, darlin’, I ain’t gonna go around pretending anythin’ for anyone. If Jeannie has issues with you and me then too fuckin’ bad.”
Ororo‘s brows crowded each other. How much of that was because Jean hadn’t cared how her and Scott had effected him, she wondered.
As if sensing her inner thoughts Logan swore aloud. “What brought this on?” he demanded. “We were doin’ just fine last night.”
She ran her free hand through her disheveled hair. “We still are.”
“Funny, but you don’t smell fine.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Nice.”
He stalked towards her, his movements fluid and graceful as always, the muscles rippling in his chest and abdomen. “Whatever it is yer uncertain about ‘Ro, don’t be. I’m exactly where and with who I want to be.” His fingers wrapped around her upper arms, hauling her closer. “We clear?”
Ororo tilted her head, studying his serious expression, feeling tension slowly ebb from her body at the intensity she saw there. He meant it. “Clear.”
“Good.” He kissed her quick and hard. “Now let’s get nekked.”
Ororo gave a breathless laugh. “We can’t lounge about naked all day, Logan.”
“Sez who?” He cupped her breasts through the sheet.
More insistent knocking. “Says them.” Ororo said with a regretful smile.
With an aggravated snort Logan strode past her, yanking open the door before she realized his intent. “What the hell do ya want?” he snarled.
Charles Xavier raised an eyebrow at the growling man in the bedroom doorway.
“Oh, hey, Chuck.” Logan ruffled the hair on the back of his head. He should have smelt the different person, but his mind had been elsewhere. “What’s up?”
Charles made no immediate reply, instead his eyes flicked from Logan’s face to tight boxer briefs and back again, then he peered past Logan‘s broad frame towards a startled looking Ororo.
Ororo maneuvered herself so that was pressed back behind the door, glaring at Logan. Instead of feeling contrite or embarrassed, Logan grinned from ear to ear.
Xavier cleared his throat. “You have guests.” He stated simply.
Logan frowned, immediately on alert. “Who?”
“I believe General Fury and several friends would like a word with you.”
From his tone Logan gathered that the “friends” were armed, and probably scaring the shit out of everyone. “I’ll be right there,” he growled. Fuckin’ Fury!
Xavier nodded. “Nice to see you up and about, Ororo.”
Behind the door Ororo buried her face in her hands, shaking her head.
When the door closed she raised her head, giving Logan a curious look. “What’s up?”
“Nothin’ fer you to worry about.” He yanked on his jeans.
“Mmhm.” Ororo moved to her closet, pulling out one of her black knit tops and leather pants.
“Where you goin‘?”
“With you, of course.”
“I already said--”
“At what point in our relationship have I ever listened to you?”
“Hnh. Good point.” He felt a swell of possessiveness at the word relationship.
She smiled cheekily.
The lobby was crawling with S.H.I.E.L.D agents and people in lab coats. A fact that immediately set Logan on edge and made him ornery.
“What the fuck is this, Nicky?” He growled fiercely the moment he saw the tall general.
Nick Fury was not a man easily intimidated. His solitary gaze never wavered from Logan’s steel eyed glare. “I didn’t have time to wait for you to come to us when you were ‘damn good and ready’, so we came to you.”
Logan shook his head, disbelieving at Fury’s audacity. “You had no right. Now, take yer goons and go before I forget what ‘pals’ we are.”
“Afraid I can’t do that, Wolverine. I need to run these tests ASAP.”
“Why?” Ororo stepped beside Logan, glaring white fire at Fury.
“Confidential.”
“Then I suggest you piss off.”
Logan glanced at her, a smirk barely suppressed. Seeing her stare down Fury in his defense and Nick’s look of surprise was priceless. Surprise didn’t last long and was quickly replaced by cold, calculating authority.
“We can do this the easy way, or…” The General let his voice trail off as his men raised their weapons. “I’m sure Xavier, much like myself, would prefer the easy way.” He glanced at Charles who was seated behind Logan. “Isn’t that right, Professor?”
“Cooperation would be best.” Xavier held Fury’s eye. “But not required.”
Logan curled his lip. It wasn’t unusual for Nick to be difficult, but this went beyond his usual steamroll tactics. “Fine.”
“I believe our med lab will suit your purposes, General.” Xavier’s tone was seemingly indifferent, but there was a hard edge just beneath the surface.
“Very well.” Fury gestured to a couple of guards and lab coats. “Lead the way.”
Medlab
“Excuse me, Mr. Logan,” A slender, attractive blonde nurse approached him. She gave him an appreciative once over, her mouth parting slightly. She cleared her throat. “I’ll need you to remove your shirt please.”
“Not flamin’ likely, lady.”
“Aw, what’s the matter, Wolverine? You never were the shy type.”
Logan swiveled his head, following the accented, seductive voice of one of his many former mistresses as she strode through the hydraulic doors. “Natasha.” He glanced over at Ororo who was leaning against the far wall, her pose deceptively casual. She seemed uninterested in the conversation going on around her but he had picked up on the slight inclination of her head in his direction.
Ororo tried not to look but she couldn’t help herself. The woman approaching Logan was stunning by mild definition. Her blood red hair was pulled back in a tight braid, and her curvaceous figure was sinfully accented by her black leather uniform. Her full lips were a vibrant smear on an alabaster face. As she passed Ororo noticed the red hourglass on Natasha’s back. Natasha Romanov, The Black Widow. Nearly as legendary as the Wolverine. Great. Ororo thought with a narrowing of white eyes. Another damn redhead.
“Long time.” Logan acknowledged when Natasha stood directly in front of him.
“Not long enough.” Her voice was cold.
One side of his mouth kicked up. “Still sore are we?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His eyes drifted to where the red haired assassin’s hand rested on the hilt of the knife at her hip. “Gonna stick me?” He asked mildly.
“Considering it.” She smiled acid sweet. “One good poke deserves another.”
“Hnh.”
“It’s funny how we keep running into each other.”
“Yeah; real laugh riot.”
“Why you’re so damn important to Nick is beyond me.”
Logan didn’t say anything.
“Take your clothes off.”
“I thought it was just my shirt.”
“We’ll need to do a full examination.”
“Ya always were eager to get me stripped down.”
Natasha gave a small bark of bitter laughter. “Some things never change. Still as arrogant and cocky as ever.”
He gave his patented feral snarl. “I’m the best there is at what I do.”
“Debatable. Strip.”
“No.”
“As you’ve just so gentlemanly pointed out, it’s not as if I’ve never seen you naked before, Wolverine.” She reached forward, snapping buttons from his shirt.
Across the room Ororo made a short snort, crossing her arms over her chest.
The hydraulic doors hissed again allowing Cyclops, Jean, Warren and Alison entry. Ali approached Storm. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
Ali leaned against the wall beside Ororo. She shoved her hands in her pockets, jingling the silver chains at her waist. “So, what the fuck’s going on? Xavier just mind wired us into coming down here. I was in the middle of…something. Talk about an annoying jumpstart.”
Ororo cocked her head, smiling slightly despite her growing foul mood. “Any particular reason you’re using jacking analogies?”
“Just so ya can relate better to my trauma,” Ali said dramatically.
“Mmhm.”
“So what’s really going on?”
Ororo shook her head, her brow furrowing. “I don’t have a clue.”
“Something to do with Badger-boy, though right?”
“Naturally.” A short pause, then, Badger-boy?”
“He started it.”
“Ah, yes, Sparkler.”
“Hey, you I’ll smack.” Ali warned. She turned towards the milling about soldiers and apparent doctors. “Who’s the S&M broad?”
“The Black Widow.” She said through closed teeth.
Ali raised a pierced brow. “Do I detect some hostile intentions, Stormy girl?”
“Only if that tart doesn’t step back about two feet in the next ten seconds.”
From his position across the room Logan winced. Natasha’s hearing was damn near as good as his own. No way she didn’t hear that.
“Are you referring to me?” Natasha asked, placing her hands at her hips.
“Easy, ‘Tasha.” Logan interceded.
“Don’t you ‘Tasha me.” She snapped. “If you have something to say little girl, then come say it to my face or I suggest you be silent.”
“Oh dear.” Ali murmured as Ororo straightened away from the wall.
Logan turned towards Ororo. “’Ro, this is--”
“I know who she is.” Ororo’s eyes snapped snippets of electricity.
Natasha smiled thinly. “I unfortunately can’t say the same. You are?”
“Ororo Munroe.” Nick Fury’s deep voice interrupted. “Weather manipulating mutant, team member of the X-Men, appropriately codenamed Storm, master thief, carjacker and illegal immigrant.”
“You forgot weekend stripper,” Ali added.
Ororo elbowed her in the side. “Former thief.” She raised her chin.
“We’ll see.” Nick turned his attention to Natasha. “Isn’t there somewhere else you need to be?”
“No.”
“Widow.” There was subtle warning in Fury’s tone.
Without another word the tall, statuesque woman turned and strode away from them without so much as a backward glance.
“She’s still angry about Russia.” The General said.
“Figured.” Logan grunted.
“What happened in Russia?” Ali asked impishly.
“Nothin’.” Logan glared.
Fury glanced at his watch. “The sooner you start cooperating, Logan, the sooner we’re out of your hair.”
“Fine.” He shrugged out of his shirt.
Pretty blonde nurse dropped a handful of glass tubes, blushing profusely.
Ororo rolled her eyes. For the love of--!
Logan cocked his head, interested in the scent Ororo was giving off. Possession. She was jealous. He grinned devilishly. Deciding he liked irking that little green monster he stretched, purposefully flexing as he did, giving the women quite a show. “So, who wants to examine me?”
Ororo grit her teeth as several female doctors and one male nearly tripped over each other trying to get to him. “You’re obviously going to be well taken care of, so I think I‘ll go where I‘m needed.” Her voice was sedate, and for anyone that didn’t really know her they’d assume she was laid back and relaxed, but Logan knew better.
Before she could take a step his hand shot out, grasping her wrist. When she lifted her eyes to his he murmured, “I need you here.”
Warmth spread through Ororo. She felt Logan’s thumb stroke against her pulse point. “Ok.”
Fury looked between the two, his dark gaze speculative, his mind running on overdrive. “If we’re set, then let’s begin.”
Two hours later
“You were jealous.”
Ororo paused mid-bite, her sandwich gripped in both hands. “What?”
Logan rocked back in his chair. They were seated in the kitchen, eating for the first time that day. “You were jealous of ‘Tasha.”
Ororo set her sandwich back onto her plate carefully. “I was no such thing.”
“You were.”
“No. You are mistaken.”
Logan leaned forward, his elbows on the table, smiling. “And yer full of shit.”
Ororo sighed. “That obvious?”
Logan chuckled. “It was…unexpected.”
“Yeah, for me too,” she admitted. “Sorry.”
“I ain’t.” His eyes darkened. “Ya really amaze me sometimes.”
Ororo blushed. “Yes, getting insanely jealous and wanting to scratch out eyes is very amazing.”
Logan pushed his chair back, moving around the table so that he crouched beside her chair. Ororo turned towards him and he settled between her thighs, wrapping his thick arms around her waist. “Yer good fer me, baby.”
Ororo smiled. “Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.” Logan lifted the bottom of her shirt, running his hands along her bareback and over her toned midriff.
Immediately Ororo felt herself melting. Then she was squealing in the most unladylike manner as Logan mercilessly pressed his whiskered face to her belly, blowing against the skin in a wet rumble.
Logan!!” Ororo tried to wiggle from his grip, her peels of laughter washing over Logan like warm rain.
He lifted his head, laughing. “Beg fer mercy!”
“Never!” She shrieked again as his fingers tickled her ribcage and his tongue assailed her navel. The chair wobbled, sending them crashing to the floor. In that moment the kitchen doors swung open and Scott, Jean and Xavier filled the entryway.
Logan picked his head up, his eyes dancing. Ororo tilted back, blowing strands of hair from her face. “Uh, hi.” She couldn’t remove the smile on her face.
Logan adjusted Ororo’s shirt, his own grin undiminished by the intrusion. “Afternoon.”
“Good afternoon, Wolverine, Storm.” Xavier greeted smoothly as if seeing his two most reserved and independent X-Men laying in a giggling heap on the kitchen floor was an everyday occurrence.
Logan helped Ororo to her feet, before lifting the fallen chair and righting it. “Just having some lunch,” he informed the three onlookers.
As if to verify his statement Ororo grabbed her sandwich, holding it slightly aloft as though for observation. She caught Logan’s eye out of the corner of hers and she knew she wasn’t out of the woods yet by the wicked gleam in his. “Excuse me,” she murmured hurriedly, dropping the sandwich back onto the plate and sprinting for the back door.
Logan growled, giving chase, the door slamming shut behind him.
Jean, Scott and Xavier stayed motionless for a moment.
“Weird.” Scott said finally. “You know I didn’t even know he could do that.”
“What?” Jean asked, still a bit flabbergasted.
“Laugh.” Scott supplied.
Xavier remained silent, his thoughts turned inward.
Later
Ororo lay in bed her heart thundering in her ears. Nightmares had once again invaded her sensual dreams and left her feeling cold inside. Cold…and scared. There had been blood, so much blood. And the screaming. She shuddered. She didn’t think she’d ever get the sounds of the screaming from her ears.
She rubbed her arms absently, listening to the sound of Logan’s breathing.
He lay on his side, one arm slung around her waist possessively, his hand resting under the swell of her breast. Just that small gesture sent her heart into fluttery overdrive. Feeling slightly cramped she shifted position. The moment she did the arm snaked about her waist tightened. “It ain’t even light yet, darlin’.” His voice was gruff from sleep.
She loved that sound, savoring the rough timbre. “It’s almost dawn,” she whispered.
“Hnh.” He rolled onto his back, his eyes drifting moodily over her face. “Something happened.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.
She scooted upright, leaning forward so that her hair fell in a shimmering curtain between them. “Yes.”
Logan stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. When it became apparent she wasn’t going to without a nudge he too sat up. “What is it?” He brushed her hair aside.
Without a word Ororo held her arm out to him.
For a moment he didn’t understand, then he saw. “’Ro!” He gripped her arm firmly, but carefully. From wrist to shoulder burn marks were swelling, darkening against the smooth caramel of her skin.
She felt her chin quiver, hating that, and she took a deep breath. “There’s more. I’m seeing…differently.”
Logan cradled her face. “What do you mean?”
Ororo lifted her shoulders a bit defensively. “It’s hard to explain. I see…energy. I think that’s what I’m seeing. It’s different waves.” She turned towards him. “I can see the electrical synapses in your brain, Logan.”
“This hasn’t ever happened before?”
“No.” She shivered. “And I’m cold.”
“You don’t get cold.”
“I do now.” She bit her lip. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ll go wake Chuck.” He moved towards the edge of the bed.
“No!” Ororo grabbed his shoulders.
“’Ro. You said yerself ya didn’t understand. Maybe Xavier will.”
She knew he was right. “Okay. But in the morning, at a respectable hour.”
He wanted to argue, but decided that he’d take the small acquiesce. He lifted her wrist, tracing the burn marks with puffs of cool air. “These hurt?”
She shook her head. “Not much.”
He pulled her towards him, stretching out so that she could curl against his chest. He stroked wisps of hair away from her face.
She tangled her fingers through his. “I killed you.” Her voice was tired.
“Hm?”
She snuggled closer, like she was trying to press herself inside of him. “In my dream. I killed you.”
He gave her a reassuring squeeze. “It was just a dream, baby.”
Ororo closed her eyes, trying not to think about the dream. Trying not to remember the blood and screams…trying to dim the horrors of her mind, but most of all, she lay pressed against Logan, shivering, trying desperately to forget how good it all felt.
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