“Ororo,” Charles Xavier returned as his daughter leaned down to hug him. Near fatally injured in a car accident years ago, he legs crushed beyond repair, the fifty plus, Charles used his trusty wheelchair to get about. Although, it took him almost a year of strenuous physiotherapy, along with a weekly visit to a psychiatrist, he overcame the shock of losing the use of his legs. Since then, he gained his life back, opened up a school, which, thanks to his and the people he chose, and was among the top private schools of the state.
---
Standing beside him was Dr. Moira MacTaggert. A friend of the family, Charles and Moira’s association went way back to when they first met at Oxford. He had been admitted on a scholarship and so was she. Starting as classmates, they soon became friends and in time something more, except….Moira Kinross, as she was known then, was already seeing somebody. Marine Corporal Joe MacTaggert. However, that problem took care of itself when Moira ended her association with the handsome, and when he wanted, charming, Joe.
Engaged to be married, the two lovers had their plans put to a halt when Charles joined the military and was sent off to war. Moira promised that she would wait; a promise that Charles returned and cherished with all his heart. They even met during Charles’s ‘somewhat’ mandatory and sorely needed R&R break. Things started to go wrong when, during the last two months of his duty, Charles did not get even a single letter from Moira. Puzzled and more than slightly worried, the newly discharged Lieutenant Xavier returned home to find the love of his life, the woman he was engaged to, married and already expecting her first child.
What happened next is something that Charles regrets to even this day. Going against Moira’s ‘Dear John’ letter, the one she left with a mutual friend, Charles tracked down the, now, Mrs. Joe MacTaggert. His anger and hurt, already blazing by Moira’s betrayal, and that too with that man, crossed all limits when a ‘puffed’ chest and intoxicated Joe, took a swing at him. The same had happened before, before Charles and Moira were together. In a show of his ‘manhood’ and ‘control’ over his woman, Joe kissed Moira in a way that was scandalous at the time, and then with the same passion and much more force, sent a upper cut flying towards the shorter, lighter Charles. Never a proponent of violence, Charles remained silent and let Joe bask in his superiority his being ‘the man’ complex. However, that Charles wasn’t the one who tracked down his ex-fiancée and faced off against her husband. This new Charles was a hurt, tired, war-fatigued man…..and this Charles did not step down or turn the other cheek. He did not even wait to retaliate; he took matters into his own hands and beat the living daylights out of the man who had four inches and at least fifty pounds of body weight over him.
That was not what troubled him or was the cause of his guilt. His shame came from what happened next….Moira intervened, and in his rage, Charles pushed her back when she tried to stop his blows. In his trying to free himself, his elbow connected with the side of her head, knocking her unconscious. Horrified at what he had done, Charles instantly came to his senses. He carried Moira and the bleeding and almost unconscious Joe to inside the house, called the paramedics….and fled before the police could get there.
Never forgiving himself for what he had done, it would be years before he would see Moira again. In the meantime, his whole life changed around him…just as hers did.
---
Delving into archeology as a hobby, on trip to Cairo, Egypt, he met a young and struggling photographer named David Monroe. Working as a freelance agent, David followed such expeditions with a hope to make some extra money and possibly a name for himself. The two of them hit it off almost immediately. Although not knowing much, very practically nothing, about the intricacies of archeology, David did have a good eye for detail and a steady hand, and if that wasn’t enough, he had a never say die attitude that rivaled the most dedicated of professionals. Working with him, Charles found himself pushing further to perform better. Thus began their partnership, a symbiotic relationship that soon grew into friendship, until David and his newly married wife, a Kenyan tribal princess, N’Dare, whom David met on one such exploratory expedition, became like family to the orphaned and completely alone Charles. When David and N’Dare passed away, in accordance with their wishes, it was who got custody of their barely five-year-old daughter.
Things went on like that for years; Ororo slowly came out of the shock of losing her parents and grew under the care and guidance of her adopted father. As for Charles, he gained much more than a daughter in Ororo. Growing into an intelligent, smart and self-confident, but at the same time caring, young woman, she became not only his daughter, but also his closest confidant and his greatest personal achievement….ever.
…and then, Moira came back into life.
---
What Charles did not know, or in his rage, did not even try to find out, was the reason behind Moira and Joe’s sudden matrimonial. It was true that she had betrayed him, but….well, there were a lot of ‘buts’. In Charles’s absence, she and her Joe grew closer again, and although she had no intention of leaving or even betraying Charles, it all changed in a single night….in a single moment of loss of reason. Ashamed at what she had done, Moira wanted to profess it all to Charles. She knew that he loved her, just as she loved him….and she would have, once he finally returned from his assignment, had it not been for what happened next….she became pregnant. Her parents, fearful of the shame it would bring them in the community, and not even considering abortion in keeping with their strict Catholic faith, married her off to the first man at hand, the father of her unborn child, Joe.
Already a marriage of convenience, things grew even worse after Charles beat up Joe. Favoring the ‘bottle’ for quite some time, Joe’s bruised ego sought escape in even more alcohol. It all ended when one night, after unsuccessfully trying to get Moira to withdraw from her studies and stay home doing what, in Joe’s eyes, a good wife should, Joe rode off into the rain….never to return. According to the police, he seemed to have taken a turn too fast. That coupled with the rain and the wind and his intoxicated state, sent him hydroplaning into the stone wall.
The shock caused Moira to go into labor prematurely….her baby born stillborn.
It would be weeks before she would even venture out, months before she finally resumed her studies. Losing Charles, and then Joe and finally her baby, turned off Moira from everything and everybody, including her family….and left only one avenue for her, her studies and her work. Throwing herself headlong into it, she excelled in her field of choice, pediatrics. It was that choice and the name she earned from it, what brought her to America, more specifically, New York….and finally reunited her with her true love, Charles.
The road back to togetherness was a long and arduous one for both of them….one that they persevered and crossed. Together for almost seven years now, and living in the same house for almost five, they had regained and even crossed the love and happiness that they once shared and lost.
Moira had come to treat Ororo as a surrogate daughter, a mother-daughter relation that the then teenaged, but mature for her age, girl returned. Things hit a minor bump when Ororo expressed her desire to move out and live on her own….even though they were practically in the same city. Both Charles and Moira feared that it might have something to do with Moira’s moving in, a doubt that Ororo soon laid to rest.
----
“Moira,” Ororo reached out from her father’s embrace and towards the redheaded Moira, only to gasp in surprise at the sudden leaping out of her best friend and ‘usually’ mature, Dr. Jean Grey.
“What are you doing here?” Ororo narrowed her eyes at Jean, her twin sapphires glittering in mock annoyance. She knew why Jean was here. She also suspected that it was Jean, who had commandeered Charles and Moira to visit out of their usual Sunday afternoon visit.
“We’ve come to take you to the club,” Jean seemed to have had a bit too much coffee. ‘Late night at the hospital,’ mused Ororo.
Even before she could say no, Jean stepped up the stairs and launched her ‘groveling’ assault.
“Ororo, please, please, please,” she grasped Ororo’s hands, practically pulling her back into the house; Charles and Moira close behind them. “I need you to go with me today. Please.”
“Sorry Jean,” Ororo apologized as she freed one hand and closed the front door. “I already told you that I won’t be accompanying you guys to that sodden country club. Not this Saturday.” ‘Or any other Saturday, for that matter,’ she smirked silently.
“Ororo!” Jean’s voice rose in pitch. “Plleeeeeaaas….mmph.”
“Ssshhh,” Ororo clamped her mouth shut. “I have a student in there,” she jerked her free thumb over her shoulder, pointing towards her living room. “So keep your voice down. You are a doctor. Act like one.”
At Jean’s hurried nod, Ororo let go of her mouth, freeing her to talk.
“I AM a doctor,” Jean straightened her jaw. “A doctor, who has a day off from work and intends to enjoy every moment of it. Too bad her fiancé found this very day to take his baby to some stupid bike show. Now she has come to her best friend to beg her to join her and help salvage what is otherwise going to be a completely ‘sucky’ day.”
“Ok, Ok,” Ororo stifled her giggle. “You don’t have to be melodramatic. Why didn’t you go with Scott? You know how much he loves that motorcycle of his. He had saved a whole year to get enough money to buy it and then spent six months, *tricking* it out.”
“Don’t I know it,” Jean huffed. “Sometimes, I think he loves that piece of junk more than he loves me.”
“Jean its not that,” Ororo smiled and shook her head. “Its just that, that bike IS his first love. And its not as if he does anything *wild*, as you call it.”
“Yeah, boys and their toys,” chuckled Jean. “Honestly Ororo, you are right. I am supposed to be the mature one in this relationship, but Scott, he makes my grandfather, God bless his soul, and look like a punk rocker.”
---
“Scott has always been like this,” Ororo led Jean and the others to the living room where the young student sat reading from her book, a half chewed up end of her pen, stuck into her mouth. Seeing Ororo come in she instantly pulled it out, cleaning it against her denim-covered knee.
“Amiko, you remember Dr. Grey,” Ororo smiled as she gestured towards Jean.
“Good Morning miss,” Amiko greeted as stood up from her chair.
“Good morning Amiko,” Jean wished back, as she sat down on the single seating couch next to the large one.
“And this is my father, Professor Xavier,” she neglected ‘the Headmaster and Principal of our school’ additive, instead proceeded onto Moira. “And this is Dr. MacTaggert, my mother,” there was no hesitation on her part something that both gladdened and honored Moira….as well as Charles.
“Good morning sir, ma’am.”
“Amiko, that will be all for today,” Ororo reached for the phone. “Would you please call your home to let your father know that we will be free early and that I will be dropping you off.”
“Yes Miss,” Amiko nodded as she took the phone and dialed her home number.
----
“Its still coming engaged,” Amiko frowned after the first time. “Jubilee must be on the phone.”
“Oh,” Ororo smiled at the mention of the Amiko’s motor mouth sister.
“I could call and leave a message at his office,” Amiko offered hopefully. “He must be on his way there. Once he gets there he will get the message.”
“Office? On a Saturday?” Ororo asked.
“Yes,” Amiko nodded. “The workshop.”
“He works there?” Jean was surprised as how some one working at a workshop could afford to send, not one, but two children to a school like Xavier’s.
“Yes,” Amiko answered truthfully.
“Doesn’t he have a cell phone?” Ororo inquired, not wanting to leave a message. She had sensed the urgency in Jean’s voice.
“No, but Remy does. I could call him and he could give the message to dad. Or he could come here and pick me up.”
“That will be great,” Jean lit up….but only for a second.
“I guess,” the idea of letting the student go with anyone other than immediate family did not sit well with Ororo either.
-----
Half an hour later, Jean’s red Accord coupe came to a halt in front of an ‘under construction’ sign. Under it printed in big bold letters, OPENING SOON!! WESTCHESTER VW-AUDI.
Charles and Moira left in Moira’s Mercedes and would meet the at the club.
Pulling into the unpaved walkway, the three of them, Ororo, Jean and Amiko, stepped out only to come face to face with a tall smartly dressed young man.
“Amiko cherie,” Remy called out as he sauntered towards the trio.
“Hey uncle Remy,” Amiko grinned back as she led her teacher and her doctor friend towards the nearly finished double story structure.
“Your pepe inside,” the words had barely left his mouth when Amiko sprinted towards the building.
“Remy Lebeau at your service,” the charming Cajun flashed his perfect teeth to the red-n-white beauties.
“Is Mr. Logan inside?” Ororo inquired for formality sake.
“Mr.” Remy chuckled in surprise and led them along the path that Amiko had taken. “Don’t call ‘im Mr. He be called Logan or he be called Wolverine, but not Mr.”
“Wolverine?” Both women chimed up at the same time.
“Long story,” Remy looked sideways at them. “Maybe Remy can talk it wit’ you over dinner.”
“Engaged,” Jean flashed her ring. “Sorry.”
“Dat’ be bad,” Remy winked at her. “Beautiful women like you, taken away…tsk tsk. How about you cherie?” He looked towards Ororo, not letting up.
Before Ororo could answer, she saw Amiko coming back outside.
“What happened babe?” Remy turned towards her.
“Dad told me to wait outside,” Amiko scrunched her face as she kicked at a flattened bottle cover. “Didn’t sound too happy.”
“Is there something….” Ororo started.
“I don’t give a FUCK about you and yer SORRY EXCUSES,” Logan’s voice echoed right through the open door. “YA TOLD ME THREE MONTHS AND ONLY A WEEK IS LEFT. WHERE DO YA THINK THE CARS ARE GOING TA BE PUT UP, ON YER BALD HEAD?”
“Doesn’t sound good,” Jean frowned, her thoughts going back to Scott’s words about Amiko’s father. “Sounds angry.”
“Nothing t’ worry cherie,” Remy flipped his hand.
“Sure,” Jean crossed her arms at her chest, her frown fixed on her face. ‘Nothing to worry about.’
Just then, a shrill whistle rang out from inside signaling Amiko to come back inside.
------
Soon,
“So Mr. Lebeau,” Jean turned to her companion. Amiko was sitting a few feet away from them, completing her reading lessons, while Ororo was inside the only closed-off room in the place, with Logan, whom Jean had just seen briefly in passing. “Do you work with Mr….uh, with Logan?”
“Yes,” Remy answered cryptically, not giving out any more information than requested…it was an old habit, one from his not-so-legal days.
“And what exactly do you do here?” She gestured to the empty building.
“This be our new work place,” Remy stated with a smug smile. “At de old place, Remy be da manager and head salesman. Here, ‘e also part owner.”
“Part owner?” Jean’s eyes widened. “How big a part?” She blurted out even before she could contain herself. “I’m sorry, its none of my….”
“No much cherie,” Remy winked at her. “But enough t’ get Remy some honest money for ‘im to buy a nice house for himself and his Marie.”
“Oh,” Jean grinned back at him and the way he said, ‘his’ Marie. “So, you were just flirting around with us. What about Logan?” she inquired further. “Does he own a part here too? Or does he just work here?”
“Logan,” Remy pointed a finger at the closed door. “He be da big man ‘ere, but he don’ own nothing.”
“How can he be the big guy?” Jean double-quoted with her hands. “When he doesn’t own anything?”
“He is the head mechanic there,” Remy stated about their current place of operations. “Here, who knows?”
“Oh,” Jean nodded her head, still thinking something was missing from what Remy had told her.
What Remy had avoided telling was that although Logan did not own anything; he was the ‘big guy’ because he was one who was doing ninety-two percent of all the investing, the remaining three, after Remy’s five, was from Marie and Kurt. As for the question of the ownership, he had named his daughters, Amiko and Jubilee as the owners, not wanting to use his name to avoid dredging out his ‘illustrious’ and ‘infamous’ past.
------
Meanwhile, on the other side of the door,
Logan and Ororo had been talking for almost twenty minutes and had yet to bring up the topic of their next meeting, in place of the one she just cancelled. Feeling comfortable around each other, both of them had lost track of the time. It was only when Jean knocked at the door, did Ororo bring up the supposed main topic for their meeting.
“Sorry about the sudden change of plans,” Ororo apologized to the man before her. He was dressed in pretty much the same way, as he had been the evening before. The only thing different was that his hair seemed to be a little less unruly. ‘Must be from being indoors,’ she mused silently. Even his clothes much the same, only the shirt had changed, the red and green checkered flannel shirt giving way for a plain white one. ‘Formal clothing,’ she thought again, admonishing herself for getting distracted by things like combed hair and changed shirts.
“Don’t worry about it,” Logan answered evenly as he took in the sight before him. Ororo was dressed in a simple but smart, blouse and dress combo, with a thin silk shawl thingy draped over shoulders. ‘What do ya know about fancy clothes?’ Logan smirked at himself, finding it odd that he actually even cared to pay attention in the first place. “We can do it later.”
“Thank you Logan,” Ororo flashed an easy smile. “I hope you don’t mind me calling you Logan. Mr. Lebeau said….”
“Remy speaks a lot,” Logan arched his brow. “Many things that he shoudn’t. Guess it comes with the whole master salesman deal.”
“Sorry,” Ororo apologized, thinking that she had stepped over the boundary. “Mr. Howlett.” Although possessing an excellent memory, Ororo was surprised at the way his name just seemed to pop up and roll of her tongue….all by itself.
“Logan’s just fine,” the usually gruff and currently tense Canadian felt an unusual calm when talking with her. He had felt it the first time, during that meeting, and he felt it even now. At the same time, there was another feeling, one that he had never felt, no, only once felt towards a woman…..interest to know. Almost shaking his head to clear that feeling away, he asked his next question. “So when are ya free?”
“For?” Ororo questioned absent-mindedly. “Oh, for the meeting,” she remembered. “Today evening, hmmm, around six-thirty.”
“Sure,” Logan shrugged his shoulders. “Want me ta get Amiko with me?”
“If you wish, although there is no compulsion or requirement for her to be present.”
“Ok, Ororo,” he stood up along with her. “See ya in the evenin’.”
------
The day passed easily, too soon for Jean, but too slowly for Ororo. She found herself looking forward to her six-thirty appointment, the thoughts swaying between wanting to meet and know more about the enigma that was Logan and scolding herself to feeling this way towards a strange man.
She smiled softly at his parting comment. ‘It was nice t’ see ya again,’ his words echoing in her ears. Although a commonly used farewell greeting, it seemed something unique from his mouth…almost as if he truly meant them. From what she had heard and seen about him and from him, Logan did not seem like a person to just throw his words around. If he said something, he meant it. ‘He did like meeting you, even if he actually didn’t say that.’ Her smile grew wider at that particular thought.
‘You shouldn’t be feeling this way,’ a small voice tried to remind her, only to drown in her thoughts about Mr. Dark-and-Dangerous. That is what Jean had called him, after she had seen him up close.
However, one good thing did come from Jean seeing and meeting him. She had been able to see first hand, the love and care he showered on his daughter. That had cleared up a lot doubts in her mind, the ones she had of her own and the ones Scott’s impression of Logan had planted in her. During her time at the construction site and later with Ororo, she had sensed Ororo’s attraction, or at least fascination towards Logan. It was similar to something she had felt in herself, but while hers was a mere appreciation of a fine specimen of the opposite sex, Ororo genuinely seemed interest.
None of that seemed to affect Ororo. She was only thinking one thought.
‘Hope he comes on time.’
Note: The Charles and Moira story is similar to the one in Uncanny X-Men #117 and #389, but with a different twist and reasoning. Joe MacTaggert’s character and thoughts are from the same issues.
Pics: The Uncanny X-Men #117
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