“What the flamin’….?”

Logan!” The feral mutant famously or infamously known the world over as the Wolverine, cringed like a wet-puppy at the regal voice from the next room, an easy but firm admonishment clear in the honey smooth yet naturally husky tone.
“Sorry ‘Ro,” as quick as the apology was, it was just as false, a fact the Nubian beauty knew from years of hearing it.

“Logan,” Ororo’s silvery tresses cradled head poked from the side of the door, her snow colored eyebrow quirked in knowing amusement.
“She can’t hear…”

“What the flamin’, what the flamin’, what the flamin’,” a playful voice squeaked from the porch.

“You were saying?” Ororo stood straight to her full height, crossing her arms at her chest to present her goddess persona.
“Uh, yeah, uh….” Logan scratched the back of his head, fumbling over his words.
“Let me guess, sorry ‘Ro,” Ororo supplied a corner of her lips curving up in an amused smirk.

His goose or in his case, Adamantium encased bones ready to be cooked, Logan made a very intelligent decision, he remained silent.

---

“What is it this time?” Ororo relented. Loosening up, she flopped down on the couch, next to the denim shorts and plain white t-shirt clad Wolverine.
“This,” Logan scowled as he shoved the computer print-out in front of her.
“What is….oh,” Ororo trailed off mid-sentence, her twin sapphire like eyes momentarily widening at reading the first line of what seemed to be a wedding invitation.

“What the fu…what is this ‘Ro?” Even in his anger Logan found his control over his rather free language.
“This,” Ororo put on an innocent look as she held up the page. That action of hers was for a very specific reason.

-SNIKT-

RRrrrrrrrippppp!! Except for the part she held in her hand, the rest of the sheet was shredded into four equally strips.

“Feeling better.” Ororo’s words were less of a question for of a sarcastic statement.

“Harrumph,” Logan hung his head and exhaled audibly. Ororo barely controlled the laughter bubbling up in her throat. In that position, he looked very much like an innocent child, a child with muscles on his muscles, a mutton chop to write home about and three foot long metal claws hidden underneath his forearm….but a child nonetheless.

-----

“Logan, you need to control yourself,” Ororo said, wanting to bite her own tongue as soon as the words left her lips. She might as well have had said that he should give up on his cigars, beer or steaks.

“What do ya expect ‘Ro?” Logan pouted, holding up the shredded piece. Those Fu…sers at Marvel are gonna marry ya off to that pi…e-wad T’Challa and I ain’t gonna do anything about it. Not gonna happen, not in this life time atleast. Just look at the freakin’ invitation,” he started to read from it. “The Royal Family of Wakanda requests your presence as His shittin’ Highness, Prince T’Challa is joined in matrimony with Ororo Monroe.”

“Logan,” Ororo laid a hand against Wolverine’s bunched up shoulders, both of them feeling the spike of seemingly electrical energy surge through them just from such a simple contact. “You know nothing is going is going to come out of it. It is just a marketing stunt. The readers have been put off by the recent House of M arc. It was meant to shake the Marvel universe and shake it did…”
“….just in the wrong direction,” Logan growled, completing her sentence as if by telepathy.

“Yes,” Ororo nodded. “See the half dozen or so new comic series or miniseries they have started, New Excalibur, Son of M, X-Men: Deadly Genesis, The 198, and Generation M. It is all to get as much mileage from this as they can before the readers’ interest wanes.”
“Yeah, I know,” Logan’s scowl deepened. “The freaks didn’t even leave Jubes. Took the poor kid’s powers.”

“Someone say my name?” The spiky haired, pink goggled, bubblegum chewing face of Jubilation ‘Jubilee’ Lee leaned in from the front door.
“NO,” both Ororo and Logan chimed up at once. They knew about and had personally experienced Jubilee’s rants and weren’t in any mood to listen to another one….anytime soon.
“Sheesh. What a couple of spoil sports,” Jubilee blew and popped a bubble in their direction. “Someone listening would think that they didn’t love me,” she yelled out as she turned away from the door, to carry on with whatever she was doing before Logan and Ororo interrupted her.

----

“What was it last time?” Ororo commented, drawing Logan’s attention to his last such outburst, about three weeks ago.
“Uh, it was…” he mumbled something under his breath.
“What?” Ororo asked again, louder the second time around.
“It was that trailer for that new picture they are making.”
“And the photographs they released,” the ex-goddess supplied.
“Yeah.”

“I thought you might like that atleast,” Ororo sighed. “Seeing that we seem to be together in that one….even if you do get all googly eyed over Jean.” It was her turn to mutter, and Logan being Logan, possessor of enhanced senses, hearing being one of them, caught everything.
“’Ro.”
“Hmph,” Ororo leaned back, her back ramrod straight. It was her; I am on my way to be annoyed, so you better get onto some serious ass-kissing, pose.

“’Ro, it wasn’t like that,” Logan turned sideways to face her. “It wasn’t that I minded us having a thing in that. I was yer hair in it.”
“My hair?” Ororo echoed, still not completely convinced.
“Uh-yeah,” Logan nodded. His fingers crossed under his thigh, he tried to explain himself. “You know, how they gave you that shi…that pis…uh, that yellow colored hair in the first one.”
“Yes.” A nod
“And how ya hated it.”
“Yes.” A nod, as well as an hmph.
“And how they got the color right in the second one.”
“Logan, what are you getting at?” Ororo asked directly.
“Well,” Logan sighed and ran a hand through his unruly mane. “I kinda liked it that way. You know, the way you have it now, long.” He emphasized his answer by running a hand through Ororo’s snowy locks, taking advantage of the situation to slide his fingertips against the side curve of one generous breast.

WHACK!!

Logan!” Ororo swatted the frisky hand away, trying to squelch the effect his single gentle touch had on her mind and body….her complete body.
“Sorry ‘Ro,” this time his apology was uttered in a lustful growl, as Logan moved his hand back to a respectable distance….on Ororo’s cotton skirt thigh.
“You were saying?” Ororo drew his attention to the matter at hand, not his hand.
“What-oh, yeah. I kinda liked the long hair look,” Logan started from where he left off. “Mind it, it was kinda plain, not like yer flowing look, but atleast it looked good. Even the actress they use, that Berry chick,” Logan was in full flow now, but still vigilant for any raised eye from the regal Ororo. “She’s ok, got a good figure n’ everything…”
“You do have a point in that,” there was that raised eye. “Don’t you?”
“Oh, uh, yeah,” Logan wanted to carve himself a new one. “I mean, she a jig and all that. Got a good set of tits too…”
Logan.”

“Oh, sorry ‘Ro,” this time Logan did upchuck himself. “I mean, she’s all that, but she ain’t you. Yers are bigger,” he slipped in as he continued. “And his new movie, fu….freakin’, they screwed up the hair too.”
“What’s wrong with her hair?” Ororo asked as she ran a hand through her hair, straightening them along her shoulder and front, her eyes following Logan’s eyes following her hand.
“Its-Its kinda…” Logan tried to soften his words, giving up on that fight pretty soon. “It looks as if someone took the end of a mop and put it on her head.”
“What?” Ororo gasped, an unguarded chuckle finally making its way through her lips.
“Hell yeah,” Logan thumped the sofa armrest. “Just look at it. For cryin’ out loud, she’s got gray in there. You don’t have gray hair….not even a single one.”

“Logan, its not….” Ororo started.
“And while we are on that topic, what’s the flamin’ wrong with those other people, the Ultimate ones.”

“What the flamin’, What the flamin’, What the flamin’.”

“Oh shi...fu….damn it,” Logan finally found something he could use as a measly slang word.
“What did they do to warrant your wrath?” Ororo sighed, knowing that even if she did not ask, she was going to get to listen to it.
“They chopped off all yer hair in that one,” Logan threw up his hand in exasperation. “Made ya look like street trash for a coupla issues.”
“Logan it was just a….” Ororo tried again.
“And the short hair now,” Logan’s excitement interrupted her again. “Its just wrong. It makes me think of Ke …..”

“WOLVIE, STORM. COME OUT QUICK.”

---

Jubilee’s loud screaming charged them both into action, both x-men out and primed for attack.

“What the….” Logan’s eyes widened to saucer size at the sight before him. “’Ro, when did this….”
“Uh,” it was Ororo’s turn to hesitate now. “Ta da, surprise,” she tried levity, the tired arched eyebrow look she got telling her she failed at it. “Three days ago,” she finally relented. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“This is one flamin’ surprise,” Logan growled half-heartedly, turning his eyes back to the now drenched Jubilee, and then to the mocha skinned snow haired child hovering about five feet in the air.

“What the flamin’, What the flamin’, What the flamin’.”

Eight year old, Kendall Logan squealed with joy at the new trick she had discovered, her happiness causing a fresh rain cloud to form over Jubilee’s head.

“WOLVIE,” the Chinese-American teenager cried out. “Stop her.”

KKRRRAKKABOOM!!

“What the flamin’, What the flamin’, What the flamin’.”


Note: This has been my first completely ‘light-n’-fluffy’ work in Marvel. Hope you liked it. The Wolverine and Storm in this one are not from any specific universe, not even the What If? One, although the character of Kendall Logan is from that one.

As for the wordings of BP-n'-Storm's wedding, they are from Marvel's release. You can check it out here: http://www.geocities.com/batman_wolverine_306/wedding.jpg

Just keep a puke-bucket/bag handy.

An' please Review!!





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