The sound of hot water hissed from the silver showerhead, its constant sound lulling and soothing Ororo. Bending her head forwards she placed the palm of her hand against the smooth beige tile of the locker-room shower, welcoming the hot cascade of water over her aching muscles. Clouds of steam rose from the scalding stream washing over her, misty tendrils wrapping her in a cocoon of warmth.
Sighing softly, she turned and tilted her head back, running her hands over her face, slicking her hair away from her forehead, her thoughts once again straying to the recent mission. A complete and utter waste of time, in her mind. Aside from the treat of the island itself, a beautiful tropical paradise, the mission had been one big wild goose chase.
They should have realized that catching Magneto wouldn’t be as simple as all that. He had been long gone by the time the team had arrived, the only sign of his passing was a large Sentinel factory left in a smoldering ruin, completely destroyed. A fact that Ororo had trouble finding cause to be upset about. There were times that she felt perhaps Magneto had the right idea.
She shook her head. What the hell was she thinking? Magneto? That wasn’t who she was. Was it? She frowned, thinking of how she had felt that night at the club, the desire to kill so strong she could taste it, the urge to unleash completely and show no mercy nearly overwhelming…
Ororo was jarred from her thoughts when the warm spray raining from the showerhead abruptly turned frigid, a layer of frost and ice covering the walls and floor, causing the locker room to shift from balmy to bitterly cold in a fraction of a second.
Gasping against the shock of freezing water on her steamy skin, Ororo jerked the knobs of the shower sharply, their squeaks echoing in the empty locker room. Yanking a towel from the silver bar outside the curtain she wrapped it around her body hastily, shivering against the cool cotton. She yanked the curtain aside, stepping from the stall. “Robert Drake, so help me, if that is you--”
A voice caressed her ear, so faint and convoluted she barely heard it. Cocking her head to one side, she stood listening, water dripping from her sodden tresses. The water droplets splashing onto the floor like drum beats, the sound amplified abnormally. “Hello? Is someone there?”
Only silence.
“Bobby? If this is your idea of a joke, I’m not laughing. I--” The rest of that sentence went unfinished, her feet slipping from underneath her, sending her sprawling to the floor, jarring her elbow and cracking her head against the tile. “Ow!”
She rolled to her side, rubbing one hand along the back of her head, wincing at the lump already forming. “Smooth, Storm. Real smooth.” She pushed herself up onto one arm, her breath catching in her throat when the tile beneath he hand cracked, jagged splinters racing along the now frosted white floor. The entire surface beneath her was cracking like a sheet of ice, tiles shattering around her hand, their snaps sounding loudly in her ears. The locker room blurring, snow swirling through the enclosed room and before she could completely comprehend what was happening, Ororo found herself in the center of a full scale snowstorm.
She looked around frantically, her mind in chaos. She couldn’t rein it in; she was alarmed by the fact that she had no control over what was happening.
“Who’s there?” she demanded. Wind howled. Towels and shower curtains were torn from their holdings.
Shaking uncontrollably, the water beads from the shower freezing to her skin and her soaked hair turning into a tendrils of ice, Ororo pulled her knees to her chest, her teeth chattering non stop, an event that had never before happened to her. This made no sense, she thought, hugging her legs. The weather did not affect her. She did not get hot or cold as others did. So why then was she cold? Why were her teeth snapping together? Why were her fingertips turning purple? What was happening?
“This isn’t f-f-funny.” She blinked snow encrusted eyes. Her limbs began to lose feeling.
Locker doors clattered open, slamming into each other in the swirling gusts. The faint voice in her head grew until it sounded like thousands upon thousand of voices screaming and crying and raging at her.
Clutching her head in her hands, squeezing her eyes shut, covering her ears Ororo screamed. “Stop!”
Silence.
Ororo waited, the only sound in the room her harsh breathing.
“Yoo-hoo, Storm? You in here?” Ali‘s voice filtered through the haze. “Ororo?”
Ororo sagged in relief. “In h-here.”
Alison rounded the corner. “What the hell is up Wolverine’s ass? I just asked him about Fury and he--uh, Storm?” Ali moved forward hurriedly, concern on her face. Storm sat huddled in the shower stall, her lips trembling. “Storm, you okay?”
Ororo clutched her sodden towel tighter. “I, uhm, honestly don’t know.”
“What the hell happened?” Ali asked, noticing for the first time the opened lockers and scattered towels.
“I was thinking about Magneto, and I got upset. I fell, I think.” Ororo supplied, rubbing her head.
“Uh-huh. You think?”
“I know that sounds flaky,” Ororo shook her head, “but it’s all kind of fuzzy. Like a dream.”
“You dozed off?”
Ororo looked around. “Maybe.”
“Y’know, babe, I think so’s and maybes will only work for so long with me.” She reached down to help Storm to her feet. “Holy hell, Storm, you’re a friggin’ Popsicle,” Ali gasped, rubbing her hands up and down Storm’s arms.
“The water turned cold.”
Ali glanced up at the still steaming showerhead, her expression dubious. “Uh-huh.”
Ororo followed Ali’s gaze, a frown on her face. “Weird.”
Ali nodded, seating Ororo on one on the benches, sitting beside her. “Look, I ain’t the type to get all motherly. You’re a big girl, and a smart one at that. I figure you know how to take care of yourself, but is there anything you wanna talk about? Like why you’re not sleeping at night and falling asleep in the shower? I mean aside from reasons such as Wolverine and his kung-pow cock.”
Ororo snorted back a laugh.
“I’m serious.”
“I know, Ali.” Ororo leaned her head onto her friend’s shoulder. “But I’ve already talked to the Professor, and he’s certain there’s nothing to worry about.”
Alison kissed the top of Storm’s head before nudging her aside. “Ok, enough ‘after school special‘ for us.” Ali stood. “You need to get dressed. You have a mission. “
Ororo raised a brow. “Oh?”
“Yup. There’s a very feral looking Canadian roaming the property and he’s scaring the younguns.”
“He’s upset?”
Ali lifted her shoulders. “Who can tell?”
Ororo smirked. “Well, obviously you think he is, or else you wouldn’t have come to get me.”
“I don’t think he’s liking having the government smack dab in the middle of his life again, but that’s just my take on it.”
“He was really withdrawn,” Ororo commented, realizing for the first time that Logan hadn’t said more than two full sentences since Genosha.
Ali gave an indifferent shrug.
Ororo stood, dropping her soaked towel, reaching for one of the scattered ones on the floor.
“Hey babe, y’know you got another tattoo?” Ali commented, tousling her dark hair in one of the mirrors.
Ororo cast her a bewildered look over one shoulder. “What?”
Ali turned, nodding. “On your lower back.”
Ororo made her way to the full length mirror, turning and trying to see what Alison was referring to. Sure enough, at the base of her spine, just above the curve of her backside, two symbols were etched into her skin. Semi circular and linked together, they were similar to the other markings that had appeared and faded.
“Ororo?”
“Huh?” One coffee hand moved over the slightly raised markings.
Ali worried her lower lip. “Maybe you should talk to the professor again.”
Ororo turned slowly. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Al.”
Ali sighed, not pushing, but just as sure that it was something.
***
The evening air was cool and crisp as Ororo made her way across the back lawn of the Xavier Institute, towards the longer grass, and the man seated on an incline, half hidden in the darkness. As she approached she took the time to study his shadowed profile, the rugged contours of his face, and the way his forearm muscles flexed as he extended and retracted his claws. Even though she knew he could sense her approach, she greeted him quietly. “Hey.”
He tipped his familiar, worn cowboy hat in greeting, but his gaze never met hers.
Ororo stopped a few feet away from him, her arms crossed over her chest, an automatically reserved pose. “Want to talk?”
He gazed out at the lawn indifferently. “What’s there ta talk about?”
“About what’s happening with SHIELD, Fury, you…anything.”
“Ain’t nothing ta talk about.”
Ororo frowned. “It doesn’t bother you? Having them parade in here like they own the place?”
He gave her a hard stare. “It‘s the natural order.”
That caught her by surprise. “Hunh?”
With a semi growl, Logan cocked his head and reiterated the statement. “The strong dominate the weak. Nick’s doing his level best to keep this place from being swallowed whole by people that’d love nothin’ more than our collective heads on a platter. Chuck forgot for a moment that he wasn’t invincible, or untouchable, and now all of you are paying the price fer that.”
Ororo’s eyes narrowed. “All of us?” she repeated incredulously. “There you go again, setting yourself apart from the team. The perpetual loner. Never needs anyone for anything, right?”
Logan stiffened, and then abruptly turned away from her, grumbling.
Ororo uncrossed her arms, her hands moving to her hips. “Let me make this real simple for you, you are a part of this team. A part of this extended screwed up family that Xavier’s got going on here. You are wanted. You are valued. For more than your ability to slice and dice, mind you. They,” she gestured in the direction of the school. “Need you. I--mmmph.” The rest of her rant was cut off as Logan lunged to his feet, pulling her against him and devouring her mouth is swift and fierce possession.
Logan’s arms tightened reflexively around Ororo’s waist, keeping her upright when her knees would have buckled. “You don’t know what ya do to me,” he mouthed against her lips, his tongue flicking hers. “You make me crazy. I don’t wanna need ya like I do.” His breath warmed her as he talked a moist trail across her cheek to her ear.
She exhaled a shaky breath when his sharp canine bit her tender lobe. She trembled, turning her head to give him better access to continue the wicked things he did to her. “I need you too, Logan”
He seemed to loosen at that, his shoulders relaxing a bit beneath her fingers. “Say yer mine,” he commanded gruffly, his teeth skimming along the line of the throat.
She gave him a veiled look from under dark lashes. “You know I am.”
Logan took a step back, cradling her face, his eyes dark and once again unreadable. “I love ya, darlin‘,” he said. As he said the last, his mouth took hers, his lips moving over her, brushing softly, sharing breath. “Mine.”
Ororo blinked against the unexpected tears in her eyes. “Yours,” she affirmed with a nod.
Logan inhaled against her damp hair, closing his eyes.
Ororo smiled against his neck. “I want you,” she whispered huskily.
“You don’t gotta ask twice, darlin’.” He reached for her hand, to lead her towards the Institute, but she shook her head, running her fingers through her thick mass of snowy locks, letting it all free in a winter cascade.
“Right here.” She reached for him, grabbing his belt loop and drawing him closer, before tugging his shirt from his pants. “Now.” Her nimble fingers worked the buttons.
“Fuck, yes.” Logan shrugged out of his shirt, tossing it carelessly to the ground, moonlight touching tense muscles.
Ororo laughed at his eager expression.
His thumb skimmed her bottom lip. “Yer full of surprises, ain‘t ya?”
Ororo grinned at him, reaching for his cowboy hat and placing it atop her head. “You have no idea.”
Logan’s eyes darkened further, his breath rasping hungrily. He took a step back, admiring. “Wear the hat fer me.”
Ororo nodded and began to unlace the ribbons of her white top. Logan halted her hands, placing his over hers, shaking his head slowly back and forth. Ororo lowered her arms to her sides, mesmerized by the dark tan fingers gently untying the knots of her lacy top. Her breath hitched as he parted the silky material and his thumbs caressed her wind chilled nipples.
“You’ve got the most gorgeous tits,” he murmured, lowering his head to take one peak into the hot, dampness of his mouth.
Ororo gasped at the warm sensation, her fingers threading through his thick, unruly hair. Logan was no poetic wooer, but he got his point across just the same, and her heart still kicked. “Logan,” she sighed, his name an ache from her very soul. She tilted her head back, savoring the feel of him in her arms.
Logan’s arms tightened around Ororo’s stomach, pulling her closer as he laved her breasts in lingering kisses. Thunder rumbled in the distance and the once clear sky began to darken with thick, swirling clouds, the stars winking a farewell to the heated lovers.
He moved his mouth down her chest, along the flat line of her stomach, flicking her belly button with his tongue. At the waistband of her black skirt he looked up at her. “I wanna taste ya.”
Wrapped in a sensual spell, Ororo nodded slowly, her blue eyes clouded over with passion.
Strong hands skimmed smooth thighs as Logan gently pushed her knee length skirt to her waist, the soft material bunching at his wrists, bringing them both back to that heated moment in the elevator earlier when passion had flared, undeniable and hot between them.
With tender reverence he nuzzled her black lace panties, inhaling her arousal, the scent making his cock twitch in his pants. Slowly he pulled one of her long legs over is shoulder, her bare foot resting against the base of his back. “I gotchya, darlin’. Just relax,” he instructed, moving the panties aside and nibbling on the tender exposed flesh.
Ororo’s fingers bunched reflexively in his hair. He swirled his tongue against her over-sensitized skin, again and again. “Logan. Oh, Logan!”
“Let go, baby. Let go.”
“I can’t…Oh, oh, Logan….!!” Ororo’s hips rocked forward.
“Good. Just like that, ‘Ro. Let go.” Logan flicked his tongue faster, sensing her approaching orgasm. He grinned at the slight pain her fingers caused as she yanked on his hair. Deliberately he increased the pressure of his tongue, lingering over the tight nub of skin that was the epicenter of her pleasure.
Ororo opened her mouth on a silent scream, her body trembling as she convulsed in the throes of completion.
Watching her with hooded, hungry eyes, Logan felt his chest tighten. “My God, yer beautiful.”
Ororo’s eyes fluttered and a sensual smile played along her full mouth. She gave him a smoldering look, sliding the heel of her foot along his spine. “Your turn.”
“’Ro. You don’t--Jesus!” Logan couldn’t prevent his body’s involuntary jerk as Ororo’s eyes flashed, electricity dancing along the seams of his clothes. Within a fraction of a second Ororo had disintegrated their remaining clothing. “How--?”
“Easy. It’s making the clothes that requires concentration.” She ran her hands along his thighs, enjoying the hardness of the muscles bulging beneath skin.
Logan inhaled between clenched teeth. “You can make clothes? Outta lightening?”
“Sort of. More of electirical molecular manipulation. Henry worked with me on it.” She gave him an amused glance. “Do you really want to talk science, Logan?” She leaned forwards, poking her tongue into the head of his erect cock. “Or shall we continue?”
His breath and answer were stolen the moment her mouth covered the tip of his erection. Ororo moved on him almost reverently, licking and kissing his length. She cradled him in her hand, massaging and stroking.
“Christ!” Reluctantly he cupped her chin, lifting her face. “Ya gotta stop, darlin’.”
With a devilish gleam Ororo disregarded his urging and returned her mouth to his silk over steel cock.
“Ororo,” Logan groaned, closing his eyes, his fingers flexing in the grass, ripping it out in handfuls.
“Let go, Logan.” Her husky murmur against his shaft was his undoing.
With a growl he buried his fingers in her hair, losing himself in her mouth and the sweet oblivion of release, his muscles corded to the point of pain.
He gasped, his heart thundering in his chest. “Jesus.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “”Ro…no one--”
“Shh.” She stood, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I wanted to. I--Augh!”
Ororo jerked as a flash of pain lanced through her abdomen.
“Ororo?”
Ororo sagged against Logan. “I’m fine.”
Logan held her, his gray eyes searching her face. “What’s going on?”
What could she say? That for a moment it sounded like there were a thousand voices screaming simultaneously inside her mind? “Really, Logan, I’m fine.” She said, straightening to her full height. “Just some stomach cramps.”
Logan’s thick arm tightened further. “Like hell,” he grumbled, but didn’t push. His warm breath stirred against her ear and she was comforted by the press of moist lips against her skin. Logan leaned back, still keeping one arm possessively draped around her waist. “You can talk ta me.”
Ororo pressed her face into the warm comfort of his neck. “I know.”
“’Ro…”
“Honestly, I think I’m just a little tired.”
Logan curled his fist into her hair, brushing his mouth over hers in a slow dance. “Well, then let’s get you to bed.”
Ororo chuckled. “It’s only eight thirty, Logan.”
Another slow, tantalizing kiss. “I didn’t say we’d sleep.”
“Oh.”
Two hours later
Logan growled under his breath, quiet knocking waking him. He glanced over at Ororo who lay in peaceful slumber, her mouth parted slightly, her already plump lips still swollen from his gentle and not too gentle bites.
Swearing a colorful litany of foul words Logan tugged on his jeans, padding to the door. He paused, sniffing. Fury. He opened the door a crack, just enough to peer into the dim hallway. “What ?”
“I told you before you left I needed a word.” The General commented.
Logan glanced behind him.
“It concerns her.” Nick said.
Logan’s head snapped around. “You leave her out of anything you got fer me. You hear?”
“It can’t be helped. She’s already involved.”
“Spill it.” Logan growled stepping into the hall and closing the door.
“Is there another place--”
“Just spill it, Nicky. It ain’t like ya to be so namby pamby about anything.”
Nick leveled him a steady look. “We ran tests on the samples we took from you.”
“Yeah,” Logan grunted. What else was new. They were always running tests on samples from him.
“This may be rather hard for you to accept, but know that it’s the truth. I had the tests run three times to confirm.”
“Jesus, just fuckin’ tell me.” Logan said irritated.
“Victor Creed was your son.”
If the earth had split open and a magical fey leprechaun had sprung out and handed Logan a pot of gold he would have been less stunned by that than he was by the staggering blow Fury had just dealt him.
He swallowed harshly. “What?”
“Sabertooth, Victor Creed, was your biological son.”
Logan leaned heavily against the cool wood of his bedroom door. “Bullshit.” He said finally.
“I said it would be hard for you to accept.” Nick stated.
“And I said bullshit.” Logan growled. “No fuckin’ way.”
“I thought you should know. SHIELD isn’t releasing his body for burial--”
“I don’t give a fuck,” Logan snarled. “That piece of shit doesn’t deserve a burial.” His head was pounding. No. No it couldn’t be true. His son. His son had raped Ororo.
“I thought you might want to know, given the circumstances.” Fury’s eye flicked towards the door. “Better from me than someone springing that on you in the future.”
Logan nodded, otherwise unresponsive. “That it?”
“Yes. For what it’s worth Logan, I’m sorry that this has happened.”
Logan ran his hand across his mouth. “Who was…who was the mother?”
“An as yet unidentified female. As far as I’m aware Creed was bred in a lab, created from extracted DNA.”
“Hnh.”
Fury watched the dark eyed feral warily, wondering how much a man could take before he snapped. To have your life torn from you, over and over, then to find out you had a child, a child that you murdered. He shook his head. “Good night, Wolverine.”
Logan stayed in the hall for several minutes, running over everything that Fury had told him. With a heavy sigh he opened the bedroom door.
“There you are.” Ororo yawned, smiling a sleepy smile at him. “I was wondering where you’d gotten off to.”
Logan’s gut clenched. She was looking at him with such open adoration, her blue eyes dancing in the faint light. He couldn’t breathe.
“Logan?” Ororo stood, mindless of her state of undress. “What is it?”
“’Ro…” He shook his head. My son is the man that violated you, and I am such I monster I feel no remorse in ending that fuckers life…
“What’s wrong?” She stood in front of him , her hands resting on his shoulders.
Unable to vocalize anything beyond a deep growl Logan pulled her into his arms, holding her almost unbearably tight, his face in her hair. “I love ya, baby.” he ground out.
“I love you too,” she smiled. “Come back to bed.”
“I will in a bit. I need some air.” He kissed her forehead.
She watched him curiously. “All right. Should I wait up?”
“No, get some rest, darlin‘.”
Something was wrong, she could feel it. “Wake me when you come back, okay?”
He caressed her cheek. “I will.”
She grabbed his hand. “I do love you, Logan.”
He swallowed. “I know ya do.”
[Reviews - 194]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story |
Has been viewed 4652 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story | - Text Size +
You must login () to review.
