CHAPTER THREE
Westchester. Two days after Logan and Remy have left…
Knock. Knock.
Rogue looked up from the fashion magazine she really wasn’t reading, her evergreen eyes landing on the door. ‘Hmph. Ah knew she’d come sniffin’…’
“C’mon in.”
The knob twisted slowly, the door opening only a small crack, enough for Jean’s lithe form to slide through. She closed it behind her as quietly. For a few seconds the 2 women simply stared at each other in suffocating silence. Jean met Rogue’s almost openly-accusatory glare with calm politeness. Rogue wasn’t fooled; she realized the fiery red-head was there for one reason only, and would gladly patronize whomever she pleased to accomplish her goal.
When Rogue finally tired of their game of Stare-down, she calmly continued to read the magazine as if Jean had left.
“Rogue?”
Her eyes still scanning the page, the saucy Southerner answered, “Yeah?”
“Rogue, I’m not going to waste either of our times by patronizing you. I’ll just get straight to the point.”
“That’s pr’ferred…” Rogue kept turning pages.
Biting her tongue at the cool dismissal, Jean came closer to stand at the foot of Rogue’s bed, leaning against the high post to regard the other woman carefully. “We all know Gambit wouldn’t just disappear on you like this for days…without checking in with you…”
Suddenly very tired of the whole thing, Rogue snapped the pages shut and tossed the magazine toward the pile on her right. Gauging Jean with cold green eyes, she said simply, “F’get it.”
“Wait, now, Rogue, hear me out”“
“F’what? Besides, you claimed y’weren’t up here t’waste muh time. Ah think that’s a good idea. You wanna know where Remy and Logan are. I ain’t gonna tell ya that. Wow, all that an’ Ah didn’t even need telepathy.”
Jean’s patience wearing thin, she faced Rogue fully, gripping the foot board of the bed with both hands as she leaned in close. “Look, Rogue, I didn’t come up her for the 3rd degree. I thought maybe you would be inclined to help me, since we both know what it’s like to have to fight for the men we care about. With everything you and Remy have gone”“
“Oh, no. Dontchu’ dare try that card! Remy is not Wolverine, an’ Ah sureashell ain’t you, Sugah. Besides, maybe you’ve done enough to that man. Far as I can tell, Logan must not want to be found. ‘Meybe we’d bettah oblige him, huh?” She picked up a Cosmo and began flipping.
Jean’s face was the picture of calmness as her temper raged just beneath the surface. She was conflicted inwardly, unsure whether she should cut her loses and curse the auburn-haired woman or continue the charade to eventually hope to regain Rogue’s favor once more.
Following Jean’s silence, Rogue raised her eyes only, barely visible above the rim of pages, and added, “Go ‘head. Why don’cha jus’ poke around up here and get it over with?”
At that remark, Jean stood straight, allowing the slight hurt, frustration and anger she felt to show through (all the better to mask the truth that she’d already contemplated doing just that). With a stiff lip she turned on her heel, yanked the door open, and closed it soundly behind her. Once on the other side, she took a breath, smoothing her hair and shirt as if to wipe the anger away. ‘There’s no rush, I’ll get what I want soon enough.’
Later that night, around 10:00 pm…
Ororo leaned back in her leather chair, crossing her ankles on top of the mahogany desk before her. The club was only moments from opening, but instead of the expected feeling of anxiousness, she felt unusually calm. Almost languid. It was Sunday night, and she decided to take the night off, from patrolling the streets. Her prideful nature wasn’t going to allow her to believe the decision had anything to do with the events of two days past. She simply needed a break, was all.
“Well, we certainly look relaxed.”
She came out of her thoughts quickly as she turned to see Forge standing at the door. Smiling lightly she drew her arms from behind her head and attempted to look more businesslike. “Hey, well, you should be happy for me. Usually you complain I’m always on pins and needles.”
Catching the serious note in her words, Ororo’s GM came to stand opposite the desk, a look of concern mixed with pity in his dark eyes. “Hey, you know I’m just kidding. Seriously, I’m glad you’re doing well, then.”
She smiled, but broke the searing eye contact between them. Forge knew too many of her secrets for Ororo’s taste; sometimes she forgot that, and then was unnerved by his sporadic displays of affection. “Yeah, thank you.”
He smiled that type of smile that often made other people want to wring his neck; like he knew she knew he knew something privileged but wasn’t sure if he could keep his mouth shut about it. The wheels that turned in Forge’s head were a complete mystery to Ororo, so often she simply let them be. This was no exception.
“Anyway, don’t you have a club to open? It is after ten.” She glanced at the small, obviously feminine silver watch on her wrist.
Forge shrugged his shoulders, but eased back toward the door of the spacious office. “Whatever you say, ‘Boss’…”
Ororo leaned over the stacks of papers that littered the desk before her, once again immersing herself in work. As Forge slid through the door, closing it behind him, she heard, “…and don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out for your Little Friend.”
Her head snapped up quickly, but not quick enough to respond to the comment. For several seconds she sat, pen in hand still poised over the paper that required her signature, just staring at the door. The mixture of curiosity and annoyance didn’t clear from her face for several moments. Licking the inside of her jaw purposefully, Ororo scoffed softly and twisted the pen in the air before mentally dismissing Forge’s tasteless sense of humor.
She could not, however, dismiss her thoughts of that “little friend” he spoke of. Since that night she first laid eyes on him, the X-man they called Wolverine had haunted Ororo’s thoughts. She knew him, in the way one knew a celebrity”from a distance. The increasingly public exploits of the unsanctioned team were difficult to ignore. By no means an expert or even casual observer, Ororo had, nonetheless, heard of Charles Xavier and his “gifted students”. Encountering one in the flesh, though…honestly, she wasn’t impressed. His superficial attributes aside, the Wolverine showed no obvious mutation that Ororo could see would inspire even the least bit of concern. In fact, she mused to herself, he seemed like any other professional drunk out bar-hopping on the weekend. And his friend..? the one who evidently didn’t know when to say ‘when’??...
Ororo shook her head, barely withholding the laughter at the memory of the younger man scurrying off to the men’s room. Of course, she recognized him as a Team Member, but at the moment couldn’t recall his ‘name’. “Goddess, if that’s the sort protecting mutant-kind, heaven help us…” she muttered, returning to her paperwork with a soft chuckle.
---
Several hours later, The Xile in full swing and nearly occupied to full capacity, Ororo took a much needed break, excepting her usual drink from Angela at the bar, pausing to chat with the young woman as was her habit.
“Ev’nin’, Boss…’ere ye go…”
Ororo smiled genuinely at the younger woman, though as usual with no teeth showing. Sipping from the polished glass, she turned to watch the dancing throng below, inwardly pleased with herself. “I never tire of seeing that…”
Angela grinned, leaning closer over the bar with her towel clutched in one hand. She eyed the sometimes melancholy, always enigmatic owner of The Xile, not even attempting to hide her “hero worship” as the other employees called it. She wasn’t the first one there inexplicably drawn to the successful businesswoman, and knew somehow definitely not the last…
“Canne ask ye a question?”
Ororo nodded her head, but for a moment Angela wasn’t certain if it was to her question, or to the pulsing beat of the music the DJ played, until she turned puzzled blue eyes her way.
“I’ve ne’er seen ye out on th’ Floor yeself…ye always ‘ncourge the rest o’ us te “go where th’ music takes ye”, but I’ve ne’er seen ye once out there…” her words trailed off at the guarded expression they invoked, and suddenly the younger woman seemed very uncomfortable under the intense stare of those cerulean-blue irises.
Ororo could sense the girl’s unease, and for a moment considered letting her stew some more, but honestly didn’t have it in her. Not with Angela. They were a lot like sisters, at least as much as possible considering the wealth of info about Ororo’s life that remained closed to her. After all, it had been Ororo who’d taken the former runaway off the streets of NYC and given her a job, a sense of stability…belonging. The close-knit ‘family’ of employees at the club took care of each other”and their ‘Boss’.
After a sustained length of silence, Ororo carefully placed the now empty martini glass on the counter between them, as if a symbol to remind Angela of their working relationship, and gave her a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, I think that’s the sort of carefree behavior best left to my devoted employees, don’t you think?”
Angela, unsure how to respond to that, opened her mouth, and then closed it promptly. Ororo wasn’t waiting for a response anyway…
“Besides, someone has to steer the boat…”she grinned, this time with a twinkle in her eyes that relaxed the girl a bit.
“Aye, Boss…” Angela smiled a little sheepishly.
Ororo slid away from the counter, nodding to her once, and waved a signal indicating she was going back into the office. As she headed that way, she watched the people around her closely, admiring their skilled dancing, all the while secretly envying their carefree attitude.
Suddenly, she felt the uncomfortable throb in her gums, could taste the metallic tangy-sweet blood that erupted from the disrupted tissue. It only fed the Need more, and in an instant she could feel herself gravitating toward a young couple dancing near the door to her office, totally engrossed in each other, never suspecting they were in harm’s way.
‘Come on…just one more time…’ her clouded mind begged, ‘invite them in…no one will know…it’ll be over quickly.’ With the painful pulsating in her jaw, of that she was sure.
The young man looked up as she closed in, a smile immediately coming to his face as his girlfriend also realized they were in the audience of the popular club owner. “Hello, Ms. Munroe! We love your club!”
Her boyfriend nodded eagerly, agreeing, “You know, you’ve given a lot of people a place to just chill out… y’know, when shit’s goin’ on in their lives…Means a lot…”
‘Look at them. They want you. Just as much as you do Them. Go ahead; you know you need this…’ She shook her head at the voice, almost in a near panic as her eyes darted from the kids to her office and back again. She wasn’t even sure she could utter a single word of thanks without pulling them willing or otherwise into the depths of the sound-proof room. ‘Do it…’
“Ms. Munroe, are you alright?” The girl stepped forward quickly, as if she believed Ororo was near passing out (which wasn’t so far from the truth), reaching a steadying hand to the wavering woman.
Watching the smooth skin of the girl’s wrist, surely throbbing with warm sweet blood, Ororo suddenly became sick, swallowing hard and backing away as if she’d been scalded. “’Scuse me…”
The two youths watched, startled at her reaction, as she abruptly darted for the door to the office.
Slamming the heavy door soundly, Ororo willed her labored breaths down, resting her head against the cold surface. Eyes closed, she felt tears welling behind the lids, at how close she’d come this time. It wouldn’t have been like that street punk…they were her patrons, they trusted her, admired her, and she was about to serve them up like a buffet. “Goddess..! Make It stop..!!” She hissed, begging the unseen deity”not for the first time”to take the Need away.
For several moments she stayed there, her weight against the door, the only sound that of her deep breaths as the throbbing slowly began to subside and the canines retracted. As the sensation dissipated, and her awareness returned she suddenly realized she wasn’t alone. “Whoever you are, you picked the wrong night to fuck with me…”
With a light scoff, He stepped out of the shadows across the room to confront her openly. It was painfully obvious to her that he was not hiding. “Yeah? Why’s that, darlin’?”
Ororo’s eyes narrowed at the X-Man, as she struggled to regain & keep her composure in his presence. “I realize you people must need a ‘night out’ or whatever, but aren’t there establishments more to your tastes, say, Anywhere else?”
Logan noted her agitated appearance, could smell the fear rolling off of her. He was puzzled, however, sensing that the emotion was not because of him. “Not t’ let you get away with changin’ the subject, but ‘you people’?”
Growing even more uncomfortable, she sneered, “Yes. You know, you “super-hero” types. Is this your idea of ‘slumming it’?”
At that, the X-Man almost laughed out-right, taking a step toward her.
“Don’t come any closer.” She warned, raising a hand to the open space between them. “I don’t know why you’re here, and frankly, right now I don’t care. If you leave quietly, I won’t call security.”
Wolverine raised a thick brow to her, shifting his weight to one side and crossing his arms. “I’m not too worried about your “security”, Lady. If I could get in here without havin’ ta gut any of ‘em, I can sure as hell get back out.”
She balked at his frankness, and for the first time concern came over her face. Of course, Logan misunderstood it as fear of his intentions. “What do you want, then?”
“Answers.”
She lifted her own finely arched white brow at that, noting the somewhat relaxed stance he took. “You want to know about the club.”
He sniffed, as if the prospect was beneath him. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about your little mutant hideaway, here, darlin’. I’m talkin’ about that little stunt you pulled a couple nights ago. Downtown?”
For a moment she was puzzled, then the encounter came rushing back to her. She eyed Logan carefully, as if trying to figure out his angle, of which she was positive he had one. Evidently unafraid of sassing him, she countered, “Do you moonlight as a cop now?”
“Funny.”
“Because the last time I recall hearing something about your exclusive mutant ‘club’, I don’t remember hearing the term ‘government sanctioned’.”
Stepping only close enough to lean against the edge of her cluttered desk, Logan regarded the feisty woman with a level of intrigue. “You’re one to talk, twistin’ necks in alleys an’ shit. That sort of vigilantism is gonna get you arrested. Or worse.”
“Well, thanks for caring, but I’m fine from here.” She gestured to the door. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a lot of work to do…”
When she made the mistake of turning her back to him, Ororo realized it immediately, even before the rush of air reached her back.
His heavy weight pushed against her before she had time to turn again, sending her against the wall. “I don’t think so, Lady. I know what yer game is, an’ I doubt my “unsanctioned” ass would get much flack for takin’ you out.”
Quickly realizing to struggle was near hopeless, Ororo suddenly ceased when he said that. “What?”
Close to her shoulder, Logan lifted his face, never relinquishing the pressure that kept her pinned to the wall. “I know what you are.”
He could feel her body tense suddenly at that statement, and knew his hunch had been on the mark. Just as suddenly, though, she composed herself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Unhand me, dammit!”
“You don’t have ta admit it. That ain’t why I’m here. If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’a come.”
“You don’t know anything!”
“Don’t I? I know you’re the proverbial fox in a henhouse. Or I suppose next you’ll claim it’s all just one big cosmic joke that put a vampire in a club full of stupid drunk kids?”
For a moment, Ororo opened her mouth to deny it all, but then she hesitated. There was a part of her that just wanted to let everyone know, to stop hiding from what she truly was. Maybe it was time to stop running. “Stop it. Please…”
He felt her relax, albeit rigidly, against his crushing weight, the sound of defeat clear in her voice. “Why? You put yourself in this situation. You had ta know I’d come back after what I saw.”
“You don’t understand…none of you understand…” she mumbled against the wall, feeling the need to release the pent up anxiety that was welled within.
Logan stopped for a moment, his own anger and adrenaline waived to allow him to see this woman for exactly what she was: Tortured. He watched her face from the difficult angle behind her, glimpsing the anguish behind the tough façade. His senses told him she wasn’t going anywhere, though he didn’t release the suffocating hold on her. Quietly, he said, “Then make me.”
Having not expected that from this man who charged into her domain--the one safe place she felt she was in control--Ororo couldn’t take it anymore. “I…I…”
Logan instinctively reached for her as her body let go, sliding to the floor with her as she broke down in tears. Unsure, he kept his body tense in case this was a ploy to get free, but cradled her against the wall as she cried.
“Goddess…I tried (choke) so hard..! You don’t know what…been through! How hard it is not to…to Feed…”
Curious, he asked quietly, “How long has it been?”
“(sniff)…Over four years…”
Logan wasn’t sure what that sort of denial could do to someone like her, but he had a pretty good idea it couldn’t be good. “If it’s so hard to resist, then why put yerself in a place like this? That’s insane.”
“I have my reasons…” she began to compose herself once more, wiping at her tears as if angry with them. “Besides, what else am I to do? Stay in my casket?”
He stifled a laugh at that, unable to help himself from imaging the visual. “Sorry. I know it ain’t funny, but..”
“Goddess, I can’t believe I’m actually telling you this. I don’t even know who you are…well, of course I know who you are, but I don’t Know you…”
“Oh? A couple minutes ago, sounded like you knew everythin’ about me and my renegade friends…” He teased, easing up on her a little.
“Oh, that…” she gave a short laugh not meant to imply humor. “There’s more to it than that.”
“Don’t apologize. If that’s the way ya feel.”
“That’s a discussion for another time. Right now, I’d really just like to be able to breathe again, if you don’t mind…” she lightly elbowed him, then wiped her eyes again quickly.
Logan barely hesitated before standing, releasing her from his grip. For a minute he stood above her, watching as she vainly tried to clean up the mess of her reddened eyes and running nose. “You’re a mutant, too.”
“Yes,” she glanced up at him briefly, “so?”
“Well, look, I didn’t mean ta give ya a hard time about this place. I guess the whole idea kinda took me off guard. The people I’m with don’t go ‘round advertising their mutant status for nothin’, is all.”
“You think we should all just run and hide?”
“That ain’t what I said.”
“Well, okay then. That’s exactly why I opened Xile. Maybe I was hiding, in my own way, but at least this place lets others like Us feel like they didn’t have to do that anymore.” She lowered her head, eyes cast to the floor, when he stared at her.
“Look, I understand what you’re tryin’ ta do here. But in your…’condition’, if I kin call it that, I think you’re playin’ with fire.”
“Don’t you think I know that? I haven’t given up on finding some reliable treatment or even a cure for this. But right now, this is the hand I have been dealt.”
He paused, choosing his next words carefully. “You know, despite what happened Friday night, I think you mean well. I know some people, they might be able to help you…”
“If they carry garlic and crosses, no thanks, “ she said dryly.
“I’m serious. It’s at least worth a try. Before you can’t control these urges anymore, an’ someone else gets hurt.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I have to say, in my defense, what you saw Friday night, wasn’t what it appeared to be. Obviously, you must realize that young man wasn’t as innocent as most of my patrons here.”
“The kid was tryin’ to mug me. O’ course I realize that. But sometimes that ain’t enough to twist someone’s neck…” ‘Christ, did I just say that??’
“With all due respect, things are a bit different here than in Westchester.”
“Ohh..There we go. I was wonderin’ when the soapbox was gonna make an appearance.” Logan crossed his arms, eyeing her suspiciously. “You have absolutely NO friggin’ clue, Lady. I ain’t got the time ta sit here and defend the X-Men to ya, so we’ll just have to agree to disagree on that one. At least, for now.”
“Fine. Then what now, Mr….what is your name? I feel sort of odd calling you ‘Wolverine’, if you’ll pardon me.” She said this with the hint of a smile on her full lips.
He cocked his head to one side, sizing her up.” You can call me Logan, then.”
“Logan, “ she extended her hand immediately, forthright as if the past ten minutes hadn’t happened, and they were meeting for the first time in a coffee shop, “you may call me Ororo.”
He took her hand firmly, and the two shook, the unusualness of the situation lost to neither. ”Look, I’d better be goin’, Ms”uh, Ororo. But the offer for some help still stands. On one condition…”
“Oh? And that is..?”
“Leave the “super-hero” gig alone for a while?”
She gave him an admonishing look, but smiled slightly, replying, “I’ll consider it, if you’ll agree to come with me one night; see what it’s like on These streets.”
Logan slid through the door, turning to grin at her. “Deal.”
“I am not kidding.”
“I know.”
“Then how will I find you?”
“You won’t have to.”
After he was gone, Ororo stood in the middle of the room, hugging herself closely for a moment. It was arguably the weirdest encounter she’d had in a long time, but there was something about this Logan that definitely intrigued her. She had heard he was widely considered the most abrasive, headstrong and aggressive member of the team, so his almost gentle reaction to her plight this night was a complete shock. She had to concede maybe she really didn’t know as much as she thought about the mutants calling themselves X-Men.
---
Upstairs, in the Security Control Room…
Forge sat back stiffly in the leather chair at the console, one hand raised to his jaw in some concentration. His eyes ached, but not because he’d been staring at the spot on the screen where Logan had been standing in Ororo’s office. Having witnessed most of the encounter, he was disturbed for entirely different reasons.
Finally moving, he kept one eye on Ororo, who eventually returned to her paperwork as if nothing happened, and reached for the secure line beside him. After several rings, the line clicked over.
“Hello, General? Yes, it’s Forge. I have something I believe you will be most interested in…”
To Be Continued…
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