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By the Midnight Sun
CHAPTER NINE


Hell’s Kitchen…
It’d been over four days and Logan had not seen hide-nor-hair of ‘Ro; frankly, he was getting a little suspicious, and even though he’d never admit it at this point, maybe even worried. Though she’d been in jovial enough spirits when she’d left his apartment in Hell’s Kitchen, he could have no idea what lasting effects their Midnight Encounter (as the two had coined it) would have on her. The longer he went without word from her, the more he began to re-evaluate his decision, hoping that giving her a taste of what she’d craved for so long hadn’t been a big mistake.

“Why don’chew just find de petit, eh?”

Logan blinked, so deep in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed Remy standing near the front door. Settled in his usual spot at the window, the older man returned his gaze back to the encroaching evening. “Didn’t know you read minds, Gumbo.”

Remy only grimaced at that, the reference involuntarily bringing his thoughts to a certain red-head who’d found it conducive to masking her appearance in his mind, enough that he didn’t even realize he’d been followed back to the apartment several days prior. Remy was still sort of hot about that, and apologized to Logan even though the other man had insisted there wasn’t much he could’ve done about it. He hadn’t told Rogue about it yet, and upon discovering the rift between the two women since his and Logan’s absence, he thought it better to keep it that way. “You know where she at…or, at least you got a good idea.”

Logan only shook his head, not really wishing to reveal his own thoughts on ‘Ro’s whereabouts to Remy, yet unable to stop thinking of the possibilities. After several more moments of silence, Gambit shrugged, and bent briefly to pick up the tote he’d brought with him. Hefting it over his shoulder, he leaned back to unlock the door, still looking at Logan. “Well, ami, if you change your mind, d’ black Harley’s waitin’ for you downstairs…as for Gambit, he gon’ head back to de Mansion…”

Wolverine ignored the open-ended part of that statement that would’ve required acknowledging that he wanted Gambit to stay longer. “You brought the Harley? I’m surprised Scooter didn’t take it out back and trash it.”

Remy grinned, “Don’chew t’ink he know better ‘den that, ami?”

Logan only shrugged one shoulder, but inwardly he was glad Remy had been thoughtful enough to bring him back a ride. He suspected the young man realized he was serious about bringing home ‘company’…if he could find that company. “I guess he does, then. Thanks fer the ride, Gumbo.”

“You gon’ go to her?” Remy couldn’t help but be curious.

Logan shrugged again, although he knew his mind was already made up. “We’ll see. Safe trip back, alright? I’ll be ‘long in a couple days.” There was hardly any point to staying; especially now that Jean had discovered the place. The last thing he needed was another meeting like the first time she’d shown up. Despite his feelings, Logan honestly wasn’t sure if he could say no twice…

Remy nodded, and without another word quietly closed the door behind him. Once Wolverine was alone, he promptly tore himself away from the window, going to retrieve his jacket, and the keys Gambit had left on the kitchen table.

---

A couple hours later, inside the Xile…
Forge’s fingers gripped the cordless receiver of the telephone, nearly crushing it to his ear as he attempted to calm his feelings. The tell-tale jaw muscle ticked relentlessly as his teeth ground against each other. Stiffly, he whispered, “You don’t have to do this.”

On the other end, Ororo’s lips parted just enough to allow a shallow sigh, connoting her assumption that he wouldn’t take the news of her departure well. Without really meaning it, she asked, “And what would you have me do? It’s painfully obvious that I can’t go on like this forever. Don’t you want me to get well?”

His eyes narrowed, lips drawn into a tight line at that comment. He knew ‘Ro couldn’t possibly be aware of his plans, or the little stunt he’d pulled with the medication, but all the same he felt his defenses rise. “I said I was sorry about the Medicine. How many times do I have to apologize??”

She debated whether or not to ignore the defensive remark, as she stared at the neatly packed bags at her feet. She and Forge had been through so much, she did feel she owed it to him to let him know she wouldn’t be using his expertise anymore. She just didn’t realize he’d take it so personally. “Look, Forge, I don’t want to turn this into an argument. I thought you’d be pleased, now that you don’t have to put yourself out to get that medication together anymore.”

“’Put yourself’”‘? Is that what you’ve been thinking I thought about you? Ororo, baby, you know it wasn’t like that. You know I care about you; we’re friends…”

“I know.”

“…We were a lot more, too….”

Her eyes closed, fighting back memories of their tumultuous attempt at a romance. The relationship had stayed on life support for about four years, every once in a while breathing on its own and giving them the false hope of a recovery. Once it was painfully obvious no such revival was in sight, it’d been ‘Ro to finally pull the plug and make her peace. She’d thought it was a mutual decision in the end, but when he made comments like this…

“Forge…I have to do this. For myself, as much as for The Xile and all of you, and I could never forget how you’ve been by my side all these years. I shutter to think how my life would’ve turned out if we hadn’t met. It’s that same appreciation that made me pick up the phone tonight.” She didn’t want to have to resort to rank with him, so Ororo tried the friendship-angle. She knew this call would be the most difficult of all, and that’s precisely why she’d left it for last.

He gave a terse sigh in what she could only assume was extreme reservation. “Where are you going?”

She hesitated, not only because she didn’t really feel comfortable telling him, but also because she still wasn’t sure herself. “Don’t worry Forge, as soon as I get settled, I’ll call.”

“You know it’s dangerous to just run off like this without anyone knowing where you’ll be.”

She smiled at the almost paternal tone he took with her, even though she suspected he knew she wasn’t about to give him more information than that. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

She paused at that, her resolve softening ever so slightly despite the historic difficultly marked time after time in their relationship. “…I’ll call. I promise. Angela agreed to help out. Just take care of things for me, please?”

“You know I will.”

There was an awkward silence for several seconds, as each was unsure what to say next. Finally, Ororo whispered quickly, “Goodbye, Daniel.”

He couldn’t find his voice until she’d already removed the phone from her ear. “Ororo--?”

His last-minute plea was met only with the silence of the dead line, then the dial tone. She was gone. Forge stood there in his office, surrounded by security technology”most of which he’d built himself. The part of his wounded heart that hated her callously reminded him that this was all he could depend on; machines, science, man-made articles…that which could be controlled. That inability to do so with her was what Forge abhorred and loved about her the most.

Finally hanging up the phone, he wiped his face as if to clear his thoughts and his heart of her, quickly switching gears and heading to the door on his way back upstairs.

---

Angela looked up from the bar where she was wiping down the polished surface, her alert eyes glued to Forge’s stiff (even for him) posture as he emerged from the elevator. His steps slowed ever so slightly as he passed the locked door leading to Ororo’s office, then he seemed to snap out of whatever trance had momentarily captured him, and the grim countenance returned with a vengeance.

As he came toward the bar on his way down to the floor, she called after him. “Mr. Forge? Sir?”

He was quite unsuccessful at hiding the momentary look of chagrin before he turned back to the bar. “Yes, Angela?”

She reached across the counter, the glistening martini glass casting an impressive reflection. For an odd moment he stared at it, then only his eyes moved to watch hers. The silent communication between the two was brief; Angela hoped it would help him get past the obvious pain, while Forge was interested only in that it appeared as though he had a new source of information to bleed.

He accepted the martini with a forced smile, and nodded to the young woman as he stood there a moment to taste it. ‘So, no one knows where you’re off to, indeed..?’

Before he could even take the second sip, a shuddering crash and raised voices reached them even over the music of the dance floor. The martini was forgotten, as Forge turned toward the dance floor entrance, where the guard posted right inside the door raised a hand to his earpiece, then looked up as though searching for someone. When his eyes met Forge’s, he nodded briskly and disappeared outside.

“Excuse me…” Forge abandoned the glass and Angela, as he scurried down the levels. Most of the dancing patrons were oblivious, though some of them slid out the door to see what the ruckus was about.

Angela watched him go, curious as to what the hell was going on outside. Of course there was the occasional bar fight at Xile, but they were far and few between, thanks to the thoroughly frightening size of the bouncers. Coming from around the counter, she wondered what (or who) had been stupid enough to take on the likes of Lucas and Josef??


Outside the Xile…
Wiping gingerly at his busted lip, Josef looked at the man with a murderous glare; he guessed the last time someone had managed to strike him was probably when he was about twelve years old, and he didn’t like the reminder of the memory.

Standing quickly, he cracked his knuckles loudly as he stepped toward the older man who was waiting for him several feet away. Just like he had then, he planned now to make sure it didn’t happen again.

Logan growled low in his throat, as the pissed off bouncer advanced. His equally huge and angry buddy side-stepped, obviously attempting to initiate a two-front campaign. Wolverine fought the itch of his knuckles, refusing (for the moment, anyway) to bring out his claws. It wasn’t a fight he was looking for, but if it brought ‘Ro out of hiding, then maybe he didn’t mind roughing up her help a little. “Look, ‘Bruno’, I ain’t got time fer this shit. Jus’ lemme inside.”

Lucas dove at him as he said this, but the Wolverine was too quick for him, sliding out of the way and managing to lay an elbow between the man’s shoulder blades as he sailed past. Lucas slid along the hard sidewalk, picking up concrete burns and gravel as he went.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere, old man.” Josef reared back, clasping his fists together over his head. Logan quirked an eyebrow, realizing the man was still a couple steps out of his muscled arms’ length to strike him. Josef had no intention of physically hitting him, though.

With a grunt, he slammed his fists into the ground, pieces of gravel and concrete and the dirt beneath flying everywhere. Bystanders were sent running (or flying) as the mini-quake ricocheted outward. Logan was thrown off balance, but managed to stay away from the man’s jack-hammer fists as they came down again and again.

As the sidewalk began to look more like a phosphate mine, Forge and another guard burst out of the club’s main entrance, immediately losing their own footing with the cascade of tremors. “Josef!!”

Unable to hear beyond the noise of his own making, the young bouncer kept pummeling the earth toward Logan, who made it look too easy as he kept time with the tremors, bouncing from an over-turned car, to a mailbox, to the side of the building…

As Josef raised his arms again, he realized too late he’d opened himself up to attack, as Logan’s powerful legs pushed off the side of the building like springs and sent him flying directly at him. Logan crashed into the man’s chest, the weight of his adamantium-laced skeleton and the force of the impact sending Josef flying backward, laying him out prostrate on what was left of the side walk behind him. Before he could think to react, Logan had a hand pulling at the man’s open shirt collar and the other rose, pointing downward as all three claws emerged.

“Stop!!”

Logan let his claws come down to barely centimeters away from slicing through Josef’s thick neck, as he looked up to see Forge just outside the door, another man beside him with a glock pointed squarely at Logan’s head. The two men met gazes, each recalling their first meeting. Logan didn’t like the look in Forge’s eye one bit, so he kept his blades dangerously close to Josef’s skin. “You wanna call off yer dogs, b’fore one o’ em gets hurt?”

When Logan’s gaze moved pointedly to the man with the gun, Forge waited a few moments before he brought his hand up to lower the man’s automatic. Only then did Logan sheath his claws and lifted his weight off of Josef. “You don’t have any business here, X-Man. I suggest you leave, before the police arrive.”

Logan sniffed, stepping closer to the entrance several feet. Hooking a thumb in one of his belt loops, he shifted his weight to one foot, evaluating Forge. He could tell the man was hiding something, but he was curious at the sense of frustration and loss he also picked up. “Last time I checked, you didn’t own the joint, Forge. Whatever business I got inside is ‘tween me an’ the Lady you call boss.”

At the mere mention of Ororo, Forge seemed to ice over even more, if possible. He watched the ease and familiarity with which Logan referred to her, and his blood pressure shot up several notches. He was only comforted with the thought that if this X-Man was here, he must not know of Ororo’s plans for an indefinite absence. Torn between his emerging Plans for Logan and a compelling need to hold on to his place in ‘Ro’s life, Forge hesitated when Wolverine said this. He couldn’t very well let the man out of his grasp since Logan had gone through the trouble of delivering himself so neatly to Forge’s front door, but his curiosity at what he wanted with Ororo warred with his better sense. “As far as you’re concerned, I do. Besides, Ororo isn’t here.”

The surprise in Logan’s eyes was well worth the leak of info, as Forge smiled smugly, crossing his arms. Before Logan could open his mouth, the young bartender Angela rushed out of the door, panting slightly, as her bright eyes assessed the situation quickly. “Mr. Forge, sir, Carlos got th’ cops headin’ this way…”

Forge nodded as if this only confirmed his already low opinion of Logan. Turning back to the X-Men member, he said, “Now look what you’ve done. I don’t suppose you’ll want to stick around to explain all this to the police, will you Mr. Logan.”

Wolverine grunted, but he really wasn’t paying too much attention to Forge at this point. His eyes had been drawn to the young bartender; the look she was giving him gave Logan pause. It was definitely a message of some sorts, but he wasn’t sure what she was getting at. He kept his eye on her as he growled to Forge, “Let yer watch-dogs over there tell ‘em what happened. B’sides, I’m sure some o’ these fine people that were jus’ waitin’ t’get in but got their heads shook up instead will be more than willin’ to sing some songs fer the cops.”

Sneering, Forge turned momentarily, barking at the two dazed bouncers, (not exactly helping them to their feet) as the sounds of sirens became louder. The other patrons quickly got their bearings and dispersed, many not wishing to get into the middle of whatever it was they’d stepped into. In the commotion, Angela innocently slid down the sidewalk, disappearing down the dark alley after making eye contact with Logan one last time. This time, he needed no other sign to get the point.

By the time he came down the alley behind her, the girl was gone. Logan wondered if this wasn’t some trick, but he kept going anyway. Just when he thought better to stop and turn back, he came upon a door on the side of the building. There was a slightly damp white towel tied around the knob. Untying the towel, Logan slipped inside the unlocked door, closing it soundly behind him.


Somewhere deep inside Xile…
Angela wrung her hands to the point the skin was beginning to tingle, as she willed her heart to slow its tumultuous beating against her ribs. She’d been waiting there for almost five minutes, all the while alternating between wishing she hadn’t just done what she’d did, and hoping this Logan man hurried the hell up. She stopped pacing, convincing herself she was doing what was best for Ororo, but first she needed answers herself.

When the door to the storage room opened quietly, and he slid inside, she suddenly wished she’d taken all this on good faith. Logan watched the girl in the dim light of the small room, obviously attempting to determine whether or not she was on the up and up. Tracking her scent hadn’t been that difficult at all, considering her perfume mixed with the smells of a night club fairly rolled off of her. What had taken Logan so long, was in the decision to follow this little white rabbit down the hole.

“Mr. Logan…” Angela chastised herself mentally for the slight waver in her voice. The last thing she wanted to appear was weak or afraid to this man.

“First off, it’s just ‘Logan’. Second”Kid, you got a lot of nerve. Forge finds out ‘bout this, it’s yer ass.”

She raised her pointed chin, indignant. “Don’che think I know that? Ye lemme fret over such things…Logan.”

He grinned, deciding he may like her already. “Fair enough. Now what’s with all the subterfuge?”

Here, Angela’s resolve seemed to weaken, as she leaned against the wall. “I spoke with ‘Roro b’fore she left. She told me ye were gonne help her. Yet here ye are, sniffin’ round th’ club like ye don’ know where’n she is. What the hell’s up?”

Appreciating her straightforwardness if not the attitude along with it, Logan cocked a brow at her. “Okay, Third, watch the tone, girl. Remember, you brought me in here. If Ororo told you about me, then you know my intentions t’help her are genuine. I ain’t here ta jerk no chains. I thought she’d be here, is all. ‘Haven’t seen her in a couple days.”

“Ye don’t think som’thin’s ‘appened te her, d’ye?” Angela seemed about ready to call the search dogs.

Logan stopped himself from commenting on the last time Ororo had disappeared. He had to remind himself that ‘Ro had told him not many people knew about her condition. This girl seemed to know something was up with her though. “Well, a woman in Ororo’s…condition, may just want to be left alone for awhile. I doubt it’s really anythin’ to get all up in arms about. But I need t’ find her all the same.”

Angela came away from the wall, tentatively stepping close to him, searching his eyes closely. Lightly gripping his jacket’s sleeve, she pleaded, “Please, Logan. If’n I give ye her home address, ye got te promise me ye’ll get her the best help ye can. Find out what’s wrong with her! ‘Roro tries te be so strong sometimes…she does’ne like te ask f’ help, ‘specially when she be needin’ it the most.”

‘So, the kid doesn’t know…’ Logan was glad he hadn’t blown Ororo’s cover, but wondered why she kept such a secret from someone she’d told him was such a close friend. When they’d spent all night talking at his apartment, Ororo seemed so proud of the progress the little bartender had made. It made little sense to him that she wouldn’t let the girl in on her affliction. “I’ll do my best, kid. Now…you said you have her address..?”

Angela whipped out a small note pad from her short apron, and jotted it down. Tearing it off and handing it to him, she held on a second longer than necessary so he’d look at her again. “Give ‘Roro muh best, mate, ‘kay? Tell her t’call me soon as it’s proper.”

Logan wasn’t the sentimental type at all, anyone who knew him could’ve said, but still he hesitated at the real concern marked in the young woman’s eyes. He could tell her care was genuine, and for that, he’d do his damnedest. Wordless, he only nodded briefly, sliding the paper out of her grasp, and quietly disappeared back the way he’d come.

---

Smoothing her apron and hair, Angela turned the corner back onto the street, where a half dozen squad cars were parked along the up-turned sidewalk, lights flashing. Most of the officers were questioning potential witnesses, while two in particular were crowded around Forge, Lucas and Josef.


As she tried to slide unseen back into the club, Forge suddenly looked her way, and his eyes held a mark of both relief as well as consternation. “Angela! Over here.”

She calmly walked to them, looking up at Forge with just enough naïve curiosity. “Aye, sir?”

“I was looking for you, where’d you run off to??”

Before she could answer, one of the officers chimed in, “Ma’am, we’re trying to gather enough eye-witness accounts to piece together what happened out here. Anything you saw could help us.”

Forge turned to the man angrily. “I told you what happened, officer! One of Charles Xavier’s X-Men came to my club and caused an out-right disturbance when asked to leave. Now why don’t you find out where he’s gone and make some arrests??”

“Calm down, Mr. Forge. We’re following procedure. Want to make sure things are done right.” The officer barely spared him a glance, turning to Angela again. “Ma’am?”

She briefly looked at her manager, then back to the officers. “I thought I saw ‘im headin’ down the alley, so I tried te follow, but the buggah must’ve been too quick, cuz I lost ‘im.”

Forge groaned deep in his throat. She turned to him again, reigniting the apologetic façade she’d seen him spare so many times. “Sorry, mate.”

“That’s great, that’s just great. These people can come down here and make a mess of my property, and there’s not a damned thing the NYPD will do about it??!” Forge turned away from the officers before they could answer, heading back to the club. He stopped only briefly to instruct one of his guards to stay glued to the cops, then stalked back inside. He was burning with anger, but more at himself than anyone else. He knew he’d let Logan slip through his fingers for a third time in as many weeks, and it was getting a little ridiculous. At this rate, if he couldn’t deliver the X-Man to General Wolfe, he’d be stuck in this dead-end job, in a dead-end city forever. Now that Ororo was gone as well, he couldn’t even depend on her to be the unwitting bait for the Wolverine.

As he watched his plans fall apart before his eyes, Forge stormed through the halls beneath the Xile, more determined than ever to see this through.

---

Ororo’s Brownstone Apartment, about thirty minutes later…
For someone who was going to disappear without the aid of any friends, Ororo was having a difficult time deciding what to take and what to leave behind. She kept reminding herself that she wasn’t leaving forever, but it didn’t seem to help. As she stood before her bedroom’s walk-in closet for the fifth time since re-packing her four bags, she finally let go of the compulsion to take her entire wardrobe, sighing heavily and stepping back.

‘It’s not as though I can’t get whatever I need on the road.’ She thought, then remembered she didn’t have a personal car, let alone a driver’s license. The irony was not lost to her that the Xile had a fleet of company cars, none of which would do her much good right then. Chuckling to herself, ‘Ro ran a nervous hand through her hair, which she’d spontaneously decided to let grow out. It’d been a cool decade since she’d worn anything longer than a messy Bob, but for some reason, she now felt as if a change were in order.

Digging through the mess she’d left around the foot of the bed, Ororo lifted the heavy yellow pages, sitting on the edge of the bed to leaf through in search of the nearest taxi. As her eyes and fingers did the searching, her mind drifted back to Logan, whom she had tried not to think of in some days. There was a very real part of her that regretted just ditching him and his offer of help, especially after what he’d done for her, but honestly, ‘Ro just couldn’t imagine being around him, knowing he was someone else’s. Witnessing his little rendezvous with the redhead had definitely spoiled any appetite for pining away for something she couldn’t have…

Shaking thoughts of Wolverine aside, Ororo seriously searched the pages, arguing with herself that there had to be another way to cure this disease; she didn’t need Logan and his X-Men. She’d survived this long, she’d find a way to keep surviving.

Deciding on a cab service, she picked up the cordless by the bedside, and began dialing.

“Liberty Taxi Service.”

“Hello, I need a cab to come out to”“

Ororo nearly jumped out of her skin at the loud knocking downstairs at the front door. She cursed inwardly, suspecting she’d taken too long to pack, and now Forge was going to try to stop her from going.

“Ma’am?? What’s yer address??”

Ignoring the banging going on past the bedroom door, ‘Ro tried to focus her thoughts. Maybe if he thought she was already gone, he’d leave soon…”Oh, yes, I’m at 11600”“

Now the pounding was getting ridiculous, and the sensible side of Ororo became concerned the neighbors may call the police if it kept up. She tried to concentrate on her address, feeling trapped and just a little bit peeved.

“Lady, d’ya need a ride or not??” The voice on the other end was getting testy.

In answer, Ororo clicked the phone off roughly, tossing it on the bed and stalking out of the room. “For goddess’ sake…! Forge, I swear to the heavens you’re a dead man…”

With each step toward the foyer and each insistent pound on the hard oak wood, Ororo’s temperature jumped a few degrees. The type of language her mother wouldn’t have approved of leapt to her tongue as she lunged toward the door, reaching the knob before her steps, and jerked the lock, swinging it open angrily. “What the fuck is your prob--?”

“Well, hello t’ you too, darlin’.”

“”lem…” Ororo stared open-mouthed at the wind-tussled Wolverine clouding her door step, his hands on his slim hips as he conveyed the patience of a two year old. For several seconds she just stood there with the door open, her mouth opening and closing alternately, as if her lips worked independently of her will.

Logan’s eyes watched her, and it was clear that not-so-deep down he completely reveled in the shock he’d given her. He wasn’t surprised at all to discover, upon seeing her again, that it was exactly what he’d needed. “Well, you gonna invite a man in, or do I have ta stand out here in the chill?”

Still strangely quiet with that dumb-founded look plastered on her face, ‘Ro silently sidestepped to allow him in, following his progress into her home with a gaze colored with a mixture of shock and ire. When he turned to look back at her, she finally closed the door, and then faced him, her arms crossed. “Wha--? How”?”

“You plannin’ on goin’ somewhere without me, ‘Ro?” he asked pointedly, ignoring her stuttering attempt at a question.

She stepped up to him, openly puzzled. “How do you know that?”

He shrugged one shoulder, giving her a wolfish grin. “I got my sources. Lucky fer me, you got people ‘care enough t’worry ‘bout ya.”

With a wry smile, she shook her head, knowing immediately the only person who would’ve given Logan that sort of information. “Yes, lucky me. Now, am I to assume you have become one of those people?”

Wolverine cocked a brow at her fresh tone (just barely laced with a dose of sarcasm). “I never said that.”

“Then why are you here? To send me off?” she chuckled, walking past him to sit gingerly on the edge of the nearest couch.

Logan jammed his hands deep into his pockets, studying her face closely. He looked a lot younger to her then, his clear grey eyes shining in the dim light of the room. He rocked back and then forward on his booted heels, the leather of his shoes and the jacket creaking momentarily. “I told ya I’d help ya. I’m here ta’ keep my promise.”

She searched his eyes closer, her fingers lightly drumming along the couch’s arm as she studied his every move and gesture. “What if I said I didn’t need it anymore?”

He couldn’t miss the undercurrent there lying beneath those words, and decided maybe it was time to stop with the cat and mouse. “’Ro, you can talk t’me, ya know. It’s obvious somethin’s botherin’ ya, and I gotta admit I was startin’ ta take offense when ya didn’t get back to me. I thought we had a deal.”

“Oh, so is that what this is about? You want me to return to Westchester with you so the X-Men can keep tabs on another ‘dangerous’ mutant?”

“Where the hell’d you get somethin’ like that from?? Listen, darlin’, if I did somethin’ to irk ya, then that’s fine, be mad at me. But don’t cut off yer nose just ta spite yer face. The X-Men are your only real chance o’ beatin’ this thing. I thought that’s what ya wanted.” He said quietly.

Ororo’s eyes fell away from his face. She knew it wasn’t fair to give Logan the cold shoulder, especially since all he’d ever done since meeting her and hearing her plight, was to offer help. She would’ve gladly accepted it, too, if it weren’t for the fact that every time she looked at him, she saw him with that woman…”Logan, I just need to get away for awhile. I thought going to Westchester with you, meeting the X-Men and hoping they could help would be good for me…”

“An’ now ya don’t?”

She bit her lip, chewing in silence. She didn’t want to get into this with him right then. She couldn’t relive the embarrassment of what she’d seen and definitely didn’t want to do so with him! Truth be told, ‘Ro couldn’t say what it was that made her think so irrationally about this whole situation. She knew it was in her best interests to go with him, but something in her chest hurt at the thought of being by his side when he stepped back into the X-Men’s fold, into the arms of another woman.

Seeing the indecision warring just beneath the surface, Logan stepped close to where she sat, so that he was directly in front of her, and knelt there. When she still refused to meet his questioning gaze, he reached out to lift her chin. “Hey…”

Ororo gave him eye contact only briefly, afraid he’d see what she so desperately was trying to hide. “No, of course I still do. I’m fine, really. Just…apprehensive, I guess.”

Logan wasn’t fooled, but for the second time since he’d known her, let the white lie slide. “That’s understandable. But you don’t have to go through none o’ this alone…the X-Men will take good care o’ ya. B’sides, you know me now, so it ain’t like yer too much a stranger in a strange land, right?”

“Yeah…” she smiled a little weakly, but tried to sound more assured.

That decided, Logan stood once more, and then held out his hand. “Good girl. So, what’d’ya say?”

She looked at his palm for several seconds, then up into his eyes. All she saw there was the concern of a friend, and it both reassured and disappointed her. Taking his hand, she stood and then gestured upstairs. “My bags are already packed.”


And So…
After retrieving her things (one bag she had so sling over her neck, as it wouldn’t fit on the back of the Harley), Logan settled into the comfortable groove of the leather seat, then ‘Ro behind him. He handed her the helmet he never used but always carried, and helped her secure it properly. “Ever been on one o’ these?”

“…No.”

“Then ya’d better hold on tight, darlin’. ‘She’ really moves.”

Before Ororo could get a clarification on exactly how fast that was, he pumped the bike into action, the rumble beneath them loud and powerful and to her exciting and frightening at once. Lacing her hands around his torso, ‘Ro clung to him as she felt the wheels begin to turn, and the wind pick up around them.

Even through the turbulence of the ride, Logan could feel her heart thumping quickly against his back, and he slowed just a bit as they rode, enough to quickly lay a hand on hers pressed against his chest. When he could feel her nervousness subside, he picked up the pace, and headed for the open road.

Despite her initial misgivings, Ororo couldn’t deny the whipping wind all around them, reminding her of many midnight flights she’d indulge in when she was sure no one was around. She realized this was not unlike soaring high above the clouds, and she smiled to herself.

She didn’t know Wolverines could fly.

TBC…





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