Logan leaned one elbow on the black laminate of a small bar as his heavy gaze moved over the crowd of people in the main hall. He hadn’t been aware he was searching for anyone until his gaze found and rested on the singular form of Ororo as she entered the room. Dressed in a tailored black suit, with her long hair pulled high in a bun, she appeared more reserved than usual, but he assumed that was due to the circumstances.
He himself had shrugged off his suit jacket almost immediately following the funeral, but remained in his dress shirt and black trousers.
Sean Cassidy’s funeral had been simple yet deeply moving, like the man himself. In the time after, many of the mourners had taken to the hall in order to surround themselves with others who felt Sean’s loss. Sharing the burden so none would be crushed under the weight.
Logan took a drink from the bottle of beer in his hand, recalling Cyclops’s words from the other afternoon. Who did Ororo share her burdens with? At one time Logan could have said that she shared herself with him, but things had changed over the past year. Dramatically.
During the fiasco with Scarlet Witch, Ororo been removed from the only family she’d ever known and set to rule Kenya. He wondered now how much of that experience did she remember, and of what she remembered did she regret them turning things back the way they were now.
He never asked her, and she never asked him.
He took another drink, swirling the amber liquid in his mouth. In a world where nearly everyone was given everything they’d wanted, he had been shacked up with Mystique, hooked on booze and drugs, and still a government killer. The premiere agent of S.H.I.E.L.D’s Red Guard division. How fucked up was he?
“Deep thoughts?”
Logan glanced away from Ororo who was currently speaking with Peter and Kitty, giving each a motherly embrace, holding them as they struggled with their grief. “Evn’in’, Emma.”
Emma Frost, Former White Queen of the Hellfire Club, current paramour of Scott Summers and Head Mistress of the Xavier Institute. A position, that as far as Logan was concerned, by right belonged to Jean or Ororo.
“Sean would be surprised by how many people came.” Emma murmured. She held a glass of champagne in one hand but from what Logan could see she had yet to drink any of it. Instead of her signature sexy white attire she donned a simple black dress with her hair pushed back by a dark headband.
Logan gave her a speculative look. “You all right, Em?”
“Em.” She gave a vague sort of smile. “Sean called me Em.” She lifted her eyes to Logan’s. “Do you think he knew?”
“Knew what?”
“How much…how…I…” Her champagne glass slipped from trembling fingers.
With uncanny reflexes Logan snatched the glass before it hit the floor. He straightened, setting the glass and his beer on the bar. “Looks like you could use some air,” he suggested.
Apparently, Emma was taking Sean’s death harder than she had been letting on. Logan knew of their brief romantic history, but not the details. She nodded at his suggestion, allowing him to lead her from the room.
Once outside Emma took several deep breaths. She removed her headband, running her red-tipped fingers through her ash blonde tresses. They walked slowly down the drive. “I didn’t mean to get all dramatic on you in there, Logan.”
He shrugged. “No one expects you to be made of ice.”
She smirked. “Just diamond.”
“Where’s Scott?” Logan asked. He hadn’t seen Slim since the service.
Emma’s mouth curved sardonically. “Where do you think?”
With Jeannie. He left the words unsaid, but Emma supplied them.
“With her.” She turned narrow eyes on Logan. “I’ll never measure up, will I? I’ll never be good enough? No matter what I do, I will never compare to the immortal perfection that is Jean Grey.”
“Whoa. I ain’t the guy to be talking to about this.”
She gave a small brittle laugh. “I think you are. After all, you’re just as obsessed with her as he is.”
“Look--”
“What is it? Huh? The red hair? The porcelain skin?” She was ranting now, her blue eyes as frosted as her namesake. “Because I’ve felt it, Logan. I channeled what each of you felt for her in the arctic. I know exactly how much you all loved her, and more than that I know how she felt about all of you. And let me just say little miss Grey was by no means a perfect little X-girl.”
Logan stiffened, his own ire coming to the surface. “This ain’t the time, Emma.”
She threw one hand in the air. “I think it’s the perfect time. You know, Sean was the only person to see me for what I was and he never judged. He never compared me to some epitome of perfection and found me lacking. He wanted me for me. No totem stacked against me.”
“You’re outta line, Emma. You’re with Scott now. That ought to be enough for you.”
“It isn’t.” She turned towards him. “Is it enough for you to be Jean’s consolation prize, Logan? Because that’s what you are, you know. You’re the runner up.” She was inches from him, her breath fanning his lips. “Is that enough, Logan? Or do you want more?”
He growled a warning in his throat.
“You want more…I can feel it.” Her hands slid along the front of his stark white shirt, over his chest until her arms circled his neck. “Go on, Logan. Take it…unless you’re a coward?”
There was superiority in her tone, a snide cockiness that pushed Logan’s buttons. Despite being obviously shaken by Sean’s passing, the woman was still making moves on him. Logically he knew she just wanted to be held, comforted in her time of sadness, but the animal in him was pissed that someone, anyone, would act superior to him. Taunting him.
With a snarl he crushed his mouth to hers, hefting her against his chest and plundering her mouth.
Emma moaned, closing her eyes, kissing him ardently, squeezing her arms around his neck, straining against him.
Jesus fuckin’ Christ, what was he doing? The same instant that thought went through his convoluted mind he heard an angry male voice demand the exact same thing.
Emma turned her head, stepping away from Logan. “Scott--”
SHKOW!
Logan tumbled backwards along the ground, a high powered optic blast striking him dead center in his chest. His head collided with the base of the fountain in the courtyard. He rolled to his feet, the tattered remains of his smoldering shirt flapping in the breeze. “Just calm down, Cyke--”
“Calm down?” Scott scoffed. “First Jean, now Emma? You’re a real piece of work. Taking advantage--”
“Hold up there, Sparky. I took nothing’ that wasn’t blatantly offered. I ain’t the one that can’t keep my women!”
SHHHHHKOOOOOOOOW!
Logan ducked his head, stone and dust flying through the air as the fountain behind him exploded, raining down upon him.
-SNIKT- “Ya ain’t gonna like where this goes, Scooter.”
“What in the heck is going on out here?” Katherine Pryde raced down the front steps of the Institute towards the two combatants, kicking off her small pumps as she went. “Didn’t we already do this once?” She shouted, referring to an altercation between the two men, very similar, not too long ago.
“Apparently neither one has learned the error of their ways,” Hank McCoy, commented following Kitty down the steps in one acrobatic bound.
“What did you do?’ Kitty demanded of Emma.
In response Emma merely raised one perfectly plucked brow. “Do those two need incentive?”
“Stay outta this, Punkin. Been a long time brewin’.” Logan’s shoulders hunched forward, his attack pose, six claws extended and ready.
Scott smiled grimly, only too happy to oblige the unspoken battle cry.
KRAKKABOOOM!!
“By the Goddess, what is the meaning of this?”
Logan flinched, Ororo’s incredulous tone holding a wealth of contempt for the two men below her hovering form.
“It would appear our two teammates are suffering from an excess of testosterone,” Beast supplied mildly.
Ororo landed between the two squared off men. “This is unacceptable. Today of all days.” Her blue eyes snapped with disbelief and accusation.
Scott lowered his hand from his visor, yet his jaw remained clenched tight. “Agreed.”
“He started it.” Logan muttered, retracting.
“I do believe it was your pawing me that started it, Logan,” Emma interjected, her cultured voice completely unruffled. Her composure seemingly fully restored.
He snarled at her.
“Whatever you’re implying, Emma, is disgusting. Logan has better taste,” Kitty’s nose curled. She glanced at Logan for confirmation. His stoic silence was answer enough.
Ororo’s stunned gaze traveled between Emma and a still steaming Logan. “You didn’t,” she asked dubiously.
Logan ran his hands through his hair. “Look, she was upset and all I was…” He stopped, realizing the utter stupidity and futility of what he was about to try and defend.
Ororo found her eyes drawn to self satisfied icy blue chips. Emma’s lips curved minimally, but Ororo saw it and knew that this little stunt was for her benefit and her benefit alone.
~He’s so passionate and possessive.~ Emma’s singsong voice entered Ororo’s mind. ~Not at all as seductive as Scott, but I can definitely see his appeal. Not that you‘d know of his passion, would you? That‘s reserved for anyone but you.~
Ororo lifted her chin, ignoring Emma’s well placed barb. Once, Ororo had confided in Logan her loathing of Emma.
A short time after Ororo had first joined the X-Men, the Hellfire Club had ambushed the team and Emma had bore herself into the very core of Ororo’s mind, switching bodies with her. Logan had commented that after that Emma probably knew Ororo better than most anyone, and probably knew the worst ways in which to hurt her.
Something Ororo hadn’t given much credit to, until this moment.
“I suggest you make yourself presentable, Wolverine.” Ororo began walking back towards the mansion, her spine ramrod straight. “Sean deserves more respect.”
Logan watched her go, tearing the remnants of his shirt from the waistband of his pants. No need for enhanced senses, he could almost see the waves of disapproval and disappointment radiating off of her.
Beast tried for levity as they climbed the steps. “The excitement ‘round here never ends.”
Kitty nodded. “You weren’t here for the last one,” she said to Storm. “It was a doozie.”
“I believe that one was over Jean,” Henry added.
Ororo turned and glanced over her shoulder towards Logan who was stalking into the shadows, away from the mansion. “When isn’t it.”
Logan sat in the familiar gloom of the forest, his head cradled between his palms, for a very long time.
“What the fuck were ya thinkin’, Canucklehead?” he cursed aloud. Kissing Emma Frost. Emma Frost for fuck’s sake. Not only Scott’s girl--again-- but Ororo’s worst enemy. Brilliant.
He growled, thinking of the look of disgusted disbelief that he was certain Ororo hadn’t even been aware that she was wearing. But he had seen it. It was a look that shook him to his core.
Ororo was disgusted with him.
That bothered him.
A lot.
“Dammit.” He stabbed the tree stump he was seated on. There were very few people whose opinions of him mattered, and Ororo was damn near at the top of that list. Her respect was hard earned, but well worth it, and now he’d gone and made a complete ass of himself in front of her.
Thunder groaned in the distance.
With a disgruntled snort Logan rose to his feet. Rain splattered against the ground. Time to go see if he could make amends with a Goddess.
Ororo Munroe, Storm, the stoic goddess of the X-Men was sick to death of crying. She had tried her best to contain it, but the tears had emerged despite her best efforts, making her angry. She was the master of her emotions, and this weakness of late was unacceptable. Taking a ragged breath she lifted her head from its resting place on her forearms, wiping her hands across her damp blue eyes.
So what that Logan had kissed Emma? So what that the knowledge of Logan holding the former White Queen in his arms, in a way he’d never held her, hurt almost as much as the recent loss of her friend? What kind of person did that make her, she wondered. What purpose did it serve for her to sit here in the dark and mourn for a friend lost and a love never had?
Knowing that Logan had kissed Emma was disturbing, but not so much as the realization that act had caused her to face. Logan needed to be the hero. The protector. She saw that now. She’d never really analyzed it before, but looking back she noticed a definite pattern. Logan had a fundamental need to “play mutant in shinin’ armor” as he once put it. Mariko and Jean were both fine examples. Beautiful, intelligent, fragile, women. Women that needed him to be in control, to take care of them.
Mariko was the epitome of femininity and obedience. Her only thought was to be worthy of a warrior such as Logan. He was her fierce samurai and tender lover. Seeing to her needs above his own.
Then there was always Jean. Scott fulfilled Jean’s basic needs, but she needed Logan to be her possessive protector. The man that would slay her dragons for her if she but asked. The one willing to pick up her pieces time and time again.
Ororo knew she would never be that. She did not want or need Logan to protect, provide for or defend her in any way. She was more than self-reliant. She was a leader. His leader to be specific, and though he may find her attractive, she would never be the fragile creature that he longed to nurture. He could never play hero with her, because she didn’t want a hero. She wanted a partner.
She rose from her still made bed and made her way to the French style double doors of the remodeled boathouse balcony. Sitting in her room, crying over things that could not be changed, was helping absolutely nothing.
A night flight may settle her frayed nerves, and give her some semblance of peace.
Her hands came to rest against the brass handles, turning them slowly. The familiar soft thud of two booted feet dropping from her open skylight caught her attention. Damn. She closed her eyes. Not now, Gambit. Not now.
Taking a deep breath and plastering a fake smile on her face Ororo turned to greet the man she loved like a brother.
"Storm." It wasn't her handsome Cajun Charmer that strode towards her, instead it was the man who was at the root of her emotional distress. He moved like the graceful predator he was, running one hand absently through his damp ebony hair, shaking silver droplets onto his bare shoulders and the hardwood floor.
"Taking lessons from Gambit?" She asked quietly, gesturing towards the semi open skylight, Remy’s frequent means of entrance.
"Hardly." He smirked.
"What brings you here, Logan?" She asked in a deceptively light tone, ignoring the roll in her stomach at his smile. She crossed her arms over her chest, all at once self conscious of her frazzled appearance, waiting for his reply.
Logan gave her a penetrating look "The weather." As if to emphasize his point a clap of thunder echoed overhead.
Ororo shrugged one bare shoulder. "Mother nature can have her bad days too you know. Some things are beyond even my control."
Logan stood directly in front of her, his nearly black eyes searching her upturned face. He reached out with one rough hand, his fingers caressing the silken smoothness of her cheek.
She flinched almost imperceptibly.
"Storm?"
Ororo sighed. "There is nothing for you to worry about, Wolverine. I am fine." She stepped away from him, pushing open the balcony doors, and stepping out into the night despite the torrential rain.
Stubborn and determined, as tenacious as his namesake, Wolverine followed her out. "Why won't you talk ta me. We've never had secrets before, 'Ro, don't start now. I know what happened with Emma is buggin’ ya.”
Instead of responding, Ororo stared across the expansive, well manicured yard of the Xavier Institute’s estate. Logan swore softly under his breath, wrapping his thick arms around her from behind. He rested his whiskered chin in her hair.
Clenching her teeth against the fresh wave of anguish that tore through her Ororo said, "I am very tired, Logan.”
He made no move or reply for a long minute, then with a weighty sigh, "All right, ‘Ro. I’ll tuck ya into bed." He moved as though to lead her back through the doors.
"No!" Her voice came out harsher than she had intended. At Logan’s narrow look she tried to smile reassuringly, but deep down she knew it looked forced. Her face felt ready to crack from the falseness she was trying so hard to maintain. But maintain it she would. "I would rather be alone tonight." Liar.
Storm knew he would be hurt by this, she had never turned him away before, always welcoming their late night conversations. Over the years he had become almost as regular midnight visitor as Gambit.
She hated hurting him. She hated the fact that she was hurting. She felt smothered, weighed down by suffocating sadness. Ororo closed her eyes, a single tear slipping past the thick veil of her dark lashes.
"’Ro.” Logan couldn't remember the last time he’d seen Ororo cry, she hadn’t even at Banshee’s funeral, and the vision disturbed him. He pulled her close, ignoring her stiffness, whispering into her sodden white tresses. "Sssh...Ororo, talk to me.”
A broken sob slipped past her full lips before she could stop it. "Leave," she whispered. "Please, Wolverine, just go..." The codename. The barrier.
Feeling helpless and confused Logan tilted her face up to look in her eyes. The pain he saw there tore at his heart. As he stared at her, her blue eyes clouded, becoming solid white orbs, glowing faintly the dark. She was running from him, he realized in awe. The bravest person he had ever known was suddenly hiding from him.
"Please, Wolverine. I ask so little of you. Can you not just go?"
He reluctantly stepped away from her, acknowledging the truth of her statement. She never asked anyone for anything. "If that’s what you want…”
She waved her hand and the thunder ceased, the rain halting. "Yes. I just need some time to collect myself, all right?” Lie! Lie! Lie! “It has been a long day and I wish for nothing more than it to be over.”
There was something terrible under her words, Logan could feel it, but she was closed off to him now. She was his best friend, the only person in the mansion he felt safe sharing himself with, the only person that understood him, really understood the forces that drove him, and he knew she felt the same was true about him. So, why was she suddenly pushing him away?
Things had been different between them since her return from Africa. Strained. At first he believed it was the grief over Sean. Now he wondered if it was something else, and he had no idea what it could be. He tried to reach for her again, wanting nothing more than to ease the tormented look on her exquisite face.
With more willpower than she believed she possessed, Ororo turned from him, her heart aching brutally within her breast. It was killing her inside, being so close to him, yet pushing him farther and farther away from her.
He was finally adjusting and coming to terms with all that he had done under the Hand’s control, finally piecing together his fractured prism of his recently remembered past. He too was grieving for a lost friend, and parts of him were still mourning Jean’s loss. He had his own issues and baggage to deal with.
The last thing she wanted to do was burden him with her… problems. He meant far too much to her for her to risk ruining what they had together. She knew him well enough to know that he would shelve his own needs to try and take care of her, he‘d done it before…but she couldn’t allow that, not knowing what she knew now. It was best this way. But, oh, Goddess, she hurt.
Logan’s fingers closed helplessly in on themselves, curling into his wide palm, his hand empty. Ororo was once again looking anywhere but at him. Frustrated, but not wanting to push her, he decided it best to let her have her space--for now. With a heavy sigh he grumbled, "Good night, Storm. Y‘know where ta find me." He leapt over the balcony railing, landing with animal grace, disappearing into the shadows of the night.
A wild thing and hunter through and through, Ororo thought with a tilt of her trembling lips. She pressed her fingertips to her mouth, then sent the invisible gesture towards him on a gust of gentle wind.
With purposeful strides Storm made her way to her closet, pulling out her still unpacked suitcase. Within minutes she was dressed in a pair of tan khakis and black pullover. Giving her room one last lingering look Ororo summoned the winds at her command and soared through her open skylight, her small case in tow.
She didn’t want to believe that she was leaving the team forever; she couldn't. In her heart of hearts she was an X-Man, and always would be, but she needed some time to clear her head and sort through her raw emotions.
The truth of the matter was, that since her injury at Viper‘s hands, and perhaps long before, she had begun falling in love with Logan. Having him take care of her, work her, push her, demand her to get better, and being there to catch her when she fell had meant the world to her. Slowly, through the months of therapy she had felt herself melting. The icy encasement around her heart collapsing.
She knew he cared a great deal for her. She also knew he found her attractive. And, once upon a time, that may have been enough for her, but not anymore. She wanted more for herself than to be someone’s consolation prize. For Logan there would always be Jean first and foremost. Always Jean. Forever Jean.
Despite her intention not to look, Ororo found her gaze drawn down as she passed over the lake. The silver light of the moon revealed a lone figure seated on the dock. He seemed so isolated, reminding her of how she felt. So very alone. For a moment she faltered in her flight, a pang of longing pierced her heart, so acute it nearly felled her from the sky. Logan…
No, leaving was the right thing to do.
Aside from the emotional reasons for her leave, there was the physical ones laying just beneath the surface. Her legs had given out on her twice last week, and she did not want anyone to know that, nor of the times at night she would wake and there would be no feeling from her waist down, or the times that she woke, a scream lodged in her throat as the pain shot from her spine through the rest of her body. Painful reminders of Viper’s attack, but also of her own mortality. Life was short. Life as an X-Man shorter. If she wanted a family, a future of her own, then she needed to act now.
With one last glance at the man on the dock, Storm increased her velocity, needing to leave before her resolve wavered.
From the lakeside dock Logan stared out across the black water, towards the opposite shoreline, his mind weighted by thoughts of Ororo. She had been so distant from him and he hated it. The gulf between them was growing larger every day and he didn't know how to stop it. Something was changing between them, and for awhile he had felt it was a good thing. His feelings for Storm had evolved over the years. He admired her, trusted her and respected her. Tonight she had been so vulnerable, so fragile. Not at all the commanding force he was used to seeing. It had troubled him, and he had wanted to comfort her as she had so often done him, but she had refused. Why? Why now?
"Are you a complete moron?”
Logan turned his head, glancing at Kitty who was approaching from behind. "Don't know."
She sat beside him. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Not about Emma, no.”
“Yeah, well, me either. That dye-job tramp needs a smack down. Maybe I should tell Storm that Emma wants to remove the greenhouse to make room for a second garage.”
“Hnh.”
“What?”
"Storm. Something’s wrong with her.” He sniffed the air, the scent of rain still heavy. “She said anything to you?”
Kitty shook her head. "You know Storm. She's not the emotional type. If there’s something wrong with her she'll handle it."
Logan thought of the tear he had seen sliding down Ororo's cheek. He had wanted to cradle her face and kiss the pain away. The urge had been surprisingly compelling, but he had resisted. He was still unsure of his footing where Ororo was concerned. Had they been as they once were he doubted he'd have hesitated, but now, since her leaving the team and unexpected return, things were different.
"You gonna be ok?” Kitty nudged his shoulder.
“Who me? Right as rain.” Logan pulled a cigar from his pocket, his dark eyes contemplative. “Right as rain, darlin’.”
[Reviews - 194]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story |
Has been viewed 3921 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story | - Text Size +
You must login () to review.
