Chapter Six: Eye of the Storm
With you, I’d withstand
All of hell, to hold your hand
I’d give it all, I’d give for us
Give anything, but I won’t give up
~Nickelback
Ororo flipped the kickstand down on Scott’s old motorcycle just outside of Roman, Indiana, pulling the sunglasses up into her cropped black hair. Wiping at her dirty cheeks, she rested her aching back against the leather seat.
Hours on the road seemed to fly by, her mission giving her all the fuel she needed. After spending only minutes researching the riots in North Dakota, she had done the unthinkable. With a slice of Jean’s sewing scissors, she chopped off ten years of growth. A bottle of at-home hair color had changed her trademark white locks to black.
Henry would be upset when he discovered the dark-tinted contact lenses he had given her for undercover missions had gone missing, but Ororo knew that traveling into the snake pit would mean disguising her more distinguishing features.
Jubilation’s leather top and pants were somewhat too tight, but that fit the image she’d been looking for. Swinging her leg off of the bike seat, she raised her hands above her head, stretching knotted muscles.
After digging through her bag to find the prescription pain medication “ label scraped off just to be safe “ she took two, dry. There would be hell to pay when she finally got back to the mansion, but for once in her life, she was following her heart.
Glancing around the small city she had stopped in to wash up and refuel, she shivered. Anti-mutant signs hung in the nearby diner window, flanked by a group of young men in t-shirts and baggy jeans, obviously looking for a fight.
Roman was another area cram-packed with protests, demonstrations and violence. She had taken a risk, coming here. However, if the city did play host to the Friends of Humanity, there was a chance she might locate Logan or at least information regarding her wayward love.
Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Ororo made her way toward the diner, swallowing her pounding heart and covering the limp in her left side. With a saucy smile to the young men on the street, she swung the door open, entering the crowded eatery and moving directly to the booth in the corner.
Various bits of conversation wafted her way as the portly waitress took her order. Most of it was simply talk of work or family. Ororo smiled at a middle-aged woman flashing photographs of her grandchild around to the woman across from her.
“Damn, morons. They should have known Kinney’d have something up his sleeve.”
Perking her ears toward the counter, Ororo glanced to the side, opening her bag and digging through it to keep her hands busy. The older men at the counter were hunched together, speaking in low tones.
Ororo snorted with quiet laughter. She could almost hear Logan’s growling voice, telling her how ridiculous and conspicuous they looked that way. He would go on and on, detailing to her how they should be acting while talking about something covert in public.
Looking into the empty seat across from her, she could see his grumpy form, hunched over the table, cigar burning in the ashtray, a cup of black coffee in his hand, that small, private smile on his lips.
Heart aching with a bitter yearning for his presence, she concentrated her ears to listen in to what the men were saying.
“Kinney, fucking bastard,” the blonde man’s voice was filled with laughter. “Took off in the middle of the night. Rankin’s going on and on about how he knew Kinney would find her.”
As though someone had just “walked over her grave” “ as Marie often said “ a foreboding shiver went down Ororo’s spine. Without knowing how or why, she knew they were speaking about her.
“How would he even know?” the darker man growled in response to the blonde.
“It’s Kinney. He was always three steps ahead of Idiot Rankin. You just wait and see. He’ll show up in a few days with the white-haired bitch shackled to his truck.”
Ororo held her breath, glancing up at a lock of dark hair that had fallen into her brow. She could not be certain, but the way the duo spoke about this mysterious “Kinney” reminded her of Wolverine.
Swallowing hard, she gave the waitress a smile as her meal was brought to her. Eating slowly, to not rouse suspicion, she kept her ears alert for any other tidbits of information her lunch would bring her.
To her dismay, the men beside her did not continue their talk of Kinney and his “plan”. Ororo slipped a pair of brass knuckles into her pocket before paying for her meal. Bag over her shoulder, she headed for the door of the diner. A few minutes to refuel the motorcycle and she would be off again. There were hundreds of miles to cover before nightfall. If the roads and weather cooperated, she could be in North Dakota by tomorrow.
Just as she exited the diner, she felt a malicious presence behind her and looked up slowly, her face a mask of bored curiosity.
“Hey there, pretty lady,” one of the boys loitering outside said to her, a cocky smile on his teenage face.
“What do you want?”
“Oh, she’s a friendly one, isn’t she?” he chortled to his friends, whom laughed easily.
“Be sure she ain’t a freak before you go hitting the sheets,” a boy with spiked purple hair laughed, giving Ororo’s leather-clad for a thorough once-over.
Heart pounding in her ears, she slid a hand into her pocket, fitting the cool brass of her weapon into her fingers, preparing to defend herself without her mutation. The boys had already begun to surround her. Cutting her eyes to the street around them, she noticed a few of the on-lookers hurrying into various buildings.
Obviously, she was on her own.
“I think she’ll be a mite friendlier once we get to know each other, that’s what I think,” the first boy said, stepping closer to her.
When his over-shirt opened, Ororo could see the dingy t-shirt beneath and the embossed logo that chilled her blood…but provided her a quick plan.
Taking the metal-laced hand from her pocket, she waited until the boy’s hand found it’s way to her rear end. Whirling with natural grace and trained aim, she slammed her knuckles into the boy’s cheek.
Spitting blood, he fell to the sidewalk, howling with pain. As the others, shocked by her quick defense, moved in around her, she put up her bloodied hand, glaring at them all.
“Do you really want to hurt a Friend?” she rolled the last word off of her tongue meaningfully.
The boys stopped immediately, looking to their bleeding ringleader. For a moment, no one moved. Ororo held her breath, hoping she had bought herself time and a way to locate Wolverine. If they knew the Friends, perhaps they would believe a quickly conjured story that would get her into their ranks.
“You’re one of us?” the spike-haired terrorist said softly.
“Canon County cell,” Ororo supplied easily. “Recruited by Kinney.”
“How do you know you aren’t fucking us around?” the spike haired youth challenged.
Ororo allowed herself a naughty smirk, turning her hand palm-side up and beckoning him closer, her stance daring him to make a move to her. It was risky, they could call her bluff, but she had little choice.
“I’m here on Kinney’s orders, do you really want to defy him?”
“Prove it.”
She did not move for several moments, keeping her eyes on the new leader of the ruffian group. Taking on a growl she had learned from Logan, she motioned for him to come at her again.
“Make me.”
With wide eyes, the boys stepped back, a few stepping forward to snatch up the one with a broken jaw. Feeling a bit of pride that she had cowed an entire group of young men, she relaxed her battle stance.
“She’s with me. Anyone have a problem with that?”
Ororo’s heart stuttered to a stop in her chest. Dropping her brass-decorated hand, she turned quickly, a slow, seductive smile on her lips when she came face-to-face with the Wolverine.
He stood stoically against the afternoon sun, his leather jacket covered with a thick layer of dust, a cigarette held carelessly between his lips. But it was in his eyes that Ororo saw the restrained rage, the barely controlled hint of recognition.
“Gettin’ into trouble already, girl?” he inhaled from the cigarette deliberately, cocking a brow at her, a sneer on his perfect lips.
“I told you,” she said whimsically, flashing the brass knuckles at him. “Little Rory can take care of herself.”
Logan’s smile was easy, though she could see he was going to unload a heap of rage on her when he managed to get her alone. Swallowing her trepidation, she stepped closer, wrapping a hand behind his neck and taking the cigarette with her blood-streaked hand.
Pressing her lips to his in a noisy, wet kiss, she put on a good show for the on-looking teens, wanting to sell this new story they were following. He kissed her back, but it was nothing like the kisses she remembered. Stepping back again, she inhaled from the cigarette before handing it to him.
“Whoa, nice piece, Kinney. Sure you don’t want to share?” one of the boys catcalled, another whistling to back it up.
Jerking his head over his shoulder, Logan grunted at them, gripping Ororo’s arm possessively, almost painfully. “Fuck off, don’t you have homework to finish?”
The boys all stammered excuses, then filed away, not sparing Ororo another glance. Before she could speak, Logan tugged her forcefully away from the diner. When they reached her motorcycle, he handed her a helmet, hopping onto the seat and kicking the engine to life.
Strapping the helmet on, Ororo took her place behind him, holding on to his jacket as he raced the bike onto the street, narrowly avoiding a multi-car collision by the hair on his backside.
As they rounded a sharp turn, Ororo pressed her chest into his back, leaning with him.
Storm had found her Wolverine.
~@~
“What the fuck are you DOING HERE?”
Logan’s booming voice rattled the windows of the tiny cottage he had driven them to. Thankful they were in the middle of nowhere, their cover safe, Ororo pulled the bag from her shoulder and tossed it onto the beer-bottle filled table, not even wincing when a few of the empty containers shattered on the floor.
He was in a rage. She had known it would happen the second he had appeared behind her. There was no avoiding it. Swallowing over the lump steadily forming in her throat, Ororo met his gaze and planted her aching feet firmly on the floor.
“Looking for you.”
The silence was deafening. Only the sound of labored breathing dared touch it. Ororo wanted to run across the room, envelope her lover in her arms and caress every pain and worry from his soul.
It was the look in his eye, that borderline feral stance that kept her resolutely where she stood. The cabin had obviously been occupied recently. Layers of dust covered nearly everything, a bag of clothing spilled open on the bed, which she could see through the open door.
“Kinda figured, after I heard you’d gone AWOL from the mansion,” he ran a frustrated hand through his unruly hair. “You have to go back.”
Ororo shook her head. “We have to go back, Logan.”
He glared at her for a moment, then stomped into the small kitchen. She heard him rattle around before he produced a bottle of beer, opening it with his hand. Raising a brow at him, she bit her tongue to keep from chiding him about the drinking. Now was not the time.
When his eyes found her again, he looked her over carefully, as though really seeing her for the first time. His gaze lingered on her legs and she allowed herself to smile.
“I had to walk to find you,” she said in a quiet tone.
She saw his face crumble, emotions other than anger finally reflected on his handsome face. Pain was the most evident. Unable to restrain herself any further, she crossed the room cautiously. He let her approach, though the look in his eye reminded her somewhat of a skittish deer. If she moved too quickly, she would frighten him.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered, not reaching to touch her.
Ororo’s hand found it’s way to his, tracing the lines between his knuckles where she knew his dormant claws lay in wait. Looking up into his eyes, she shook her head.
“I will not leave you,” her voice was soft, though determined. “I could not stay behind when I knew where you were.”
“’Ro,” he pleaded, closing his eyes as her hand traveled further up his arm. She could feel the restraint in his muscles and silently begged him to released.
“Why did you leave?”
At her question, his eyes opened again. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Working for the Friends of Humanity?”
“Protecting my family.”
Leaning up on the balls of her feet, heedless to the scream of protest from her back, Ororo spoke in a husky whisper against his lips.
“And I am reclaiming mine.”
The beer bottle fell from his hand, crashing against the floor when Logan released it. Then he had her in his arms, crushing the breath from her lungs with a searing kiss. As he lifted her into his arms, she wrapped her legs about his waist, her arms snaking around his neck.
She could hear the frantic beat of their hearts, feel the primal energy between them as Logan shoved her against the nearest wall he could find. As he plundered her mouth with hungry kisses, Ororo reached up, tearing his white t-shirt from his body by pure force.
When he pulled away from her lips, he met her eyes, panting for breath.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“My place is wherever you are.”
Her words seemed to unleash his final restraint. Pulling her back into his arms, Logan toed his boots off, carrying her to the bedroom just beyond the doorway. Lust pounded through Ororo’s body, reminding her that they had not done this dance since long before the mansion fire.
Logan tossed her carelessly onto the bed, Ororo holding back a wince of pain by force. He wrenched the remaining cloth from his chest before unbuckling his belt as Ororo ripped her shirt from her body, shimmying out of her leather trousers.
As Logan dropped his boxers to join their pile of clothing, she slid her panties down her dark legs, reaching for him almost instantly. When his hard, heavy body covered hers, she leaned up, stealing another kiss from his lips.
His taste, of sweat, liquor and smoke, was achingly familiar, sending wetness flooding between her legs. Logan’s hands found their way into her short hair, pinning her to him as he deepened their kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth to trace the ridge of her teeth.
Feeling the hard length of him against her damp thighs, Ororo groaned into his mouth, her body screaming for his touch. It had been too long since they had touched and teased in the darkness, since they had pressed their sweating bodies together.
“Almost didn’t recognize you,” he breathed when their lips parted in demand for air. He tugged on a lock of her hair. “Doesn’t suit you.”
She could not help the small chuckle that escaped her lips. “It was necessary. How did you recognize me?”
Logan dropped his face into the crook of her neck, sniffing her wolfishly, traveling down the column of her throat until he reached the hardened peaks of her breasts.
“No two women smell alike…and I know every scent you’ve got.”
A feminine, possessive thrill rushes through her as he continues to sniff her skin, as though remembering her scent. Arching her body into his touch, her flesh crying out with familiar pleasure, she whimpers, wanting to beg him for more.
“I want you.”
His answering growl preceded his mouth covering a distended nipple, her hands flying into his hair to keep him in place. Groaning as his tongue swirled over the taut flesh, she brought her legs up, bending them at the knee to cradle his muscular form between her thighs.
There was no rift between them, the pain of the last months seeming to wash away. It could all be different in the harsh light of day, when their brains caught up to their bodies, but for now, she would take this fragile moment for what it was. A reunion.
Without another word, she felt Logan shift against her, his hips rocking into her own. The heat of his erection against her wet folds nearly finished her on the spot. He soothed her with a tender kiss to her nipple, palming the other in his massive hand.
She wiggled beneath him, trying to get him closer, to silently tell him that she wanted to feel him inside her. As though understanding, Logan shifted his hips once more, plunging into her without pause.
Her head thrown back, a long moan of his name was torn from her throat, punctuated by a growl from her lover. Nearly mindless with the bliss of having him hard and heavy inside her, she arched her hips against him, meeting his thrust with one of her own.
“Fuck,” she felt him lick his way up from her breast until he could gently nip at her earlobe. “Better than I remembered.”
Within seconds, Logan’s pace had moved to frantic, his thrusts rough enough to move the bed several inches until the headboard slammed against the wall with resounding cracks. Digging her heels into the lumpy mattress, Ororo could only groan, her inner walls clamping down on the cock buried deep inside her.
Logan’s arms folded around her, bringing her fully into his arms. With their chests pressed so intimately together, his frenzied pace slowed somewhat, but she could feel the rapid pace of his heart.
She wrapped him into another scorching kiss, raking her hands into his hair. For so long pride or thousands of miles had separated them, but she had him back. She was keeping him.
“My ‘Ro,” he grunted as her body began to shake with the onset of a long-overdue climax.
“My Logan,” she panted in response, their lips clashing together again and again.
Finally, his moved just slightly to the right, as if remembering exactly which buttons to push. A breathless cry against his lips was all she could manage as white-hot light erupted behind her eyes, her neglected system shuddering her into orgasm.
The motions of her inner muscles milking him, Logan grunted loudly, his hands tightening around her as his body stiffened, his hot seed spilling inside of her as he climaxed. Both shaking to the point of violent shivers, their eyes met.
They said no more. There was nothing to say.
~@~
Ororo woke to the sound of a mobile phone ringing. Blinking sleep from her eyes, her body blissfully sore, she looked up, brushing the hair from her eyes.
Logan’s voice broke through the early morning silence, gruffly providing his false surname into the receiver of the phone. He glanced at her, as though sensing she was awake. A spark of alarm in his eyes made her sit up immediately.
“Yeah, I understand,” he clicked the phone off quickly, marching back into the bedroom.
Cautiously, Ororo drew the sheets around her nude form, swallowing the fear building in her chest.
“Logan?”
His eyes were cold as steel as he bent at the waist, pulling his jeans on to cover his own state of undress.
“They found us.”
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