Ororo shoved open her dressing room door, yanking off her wig as she did so and tossing it and the cowboy hat atop her vanity. She hurried to the back of the room and the hanger rack, grabbing a pair of tan leather pants and red tank. She hopped up and down, swiftly buckling the pants and sliding her flat sandals on. She grabbed her keys from the hook beside her station and opened her locker, removing a small backpack and duffle. She did a quick survey of the backpack’s contents before slinging it over her shoulder.
“What the hell is going on?”
Ororo lifted startled eyes towards the towering man in her doorway. “Hey, Vic.” She gave him a fleeting smile. She winced slightly at the small graze on his cheek and split lip.
“What’s going on, Cleo?” He repeated. He shot the discarded wig a look and then took in her silvery white hair. “You on the run?”
She laughed, walking towards him. “I wasn’t before.”
“But you are now?”
She thought of Wolverine’s fierce expression as she had left the private room. It was a look that promised dark retribution. “Yeah. One could say that.”
Immediately Vic’s expression became severe and calculating. “Any problem you’ve got, you just let me handle.”
Ororo smiled, touching the taller man’s cheek. “You’re so sweet.” She carefully prodded the cut under his eye, a wound most probably inflicted by Logan’s knuckles. “Sorry about your face.”
He shrugged. “Y’know, my mom used to say the same thing.”
“Funny.” She rolled her eyes. Truth of the matter Vic was indeed a bit rough looking, but he was far from an unappealing man. With carved from stone features and intense eyes, he exuded authority and danger. He reminded her of Logan in that way. She took a step back and turned to grab her duffle. “This is for you and Gretchen.” She handed him the bag.
He cocked a questioning brow.
“Don’t open it until after the baby is born.” She said sternly.
“You leaving for good?”
“Yeah, I’m afraid so.” She had planned on staying on at Blazing Saddles for a few more months, and this little development sent her plans skittering. Nothing she couldn’t handle, she told herself. However, for the first time since she’d left the X-Men, Ororo felt a twinge of longing and regret. She really liked the people she’d met here and she was going to miss them.
She hefted her bag higher on her back and picked the Stetson up from the vanity and placed it back on her head. “Looks like this is goodbye, big guy.”
“I hate to see that little runt run you off,” Vic stated, his deep voice tinged with sadness.
She smirked up at him. “Vic, you’re damn near seven feet tall. Everyone’s a runt to you.”
He pulled her in for an impromptu hug. “Naw. Some people I know are larger than life.”
Ororo cleared her throat, feeling tears prick her eyes. “I’ll be in touch. I promise.” She stepped away and wiped her eyes. “Ok, then.” She started for the door.
“Wait.” Vic dug around in the front pocket of his jeans. He tossed her a silver key on a skull key-ring.
Ororo caught the key and turned it over in the palm of her hand, her look incredulous. “Your bike?”
He chuckled. “Well, your bike now.”
“I can’t--”
“Take it,” he insisted. “Grettie hates the fact that I drive it as is, and besides,” he lifted the unopened duffle. “With all the cash you have shoved in here I can buy a real family car.”
Ororo blinked in surprise. “How did you…?” She paused, studying his face. His healed face. “You’re a mutant.”
“So are you, Cleo,” he countered.
She grinned. “It’s Ororo.”
He grinned back. “Still Vic.”
“It suits you,” she said. “Take care of yourself.”
“You too, gorgeous. Watch your back, and if you ever need anything--”
“I’ll know who to call.” She blew him a kiss as she opened the door. “Thanks for everything.”
Vic watched her go, shaking his head, a rueful smile on his face. That woman was a force to be reckoned with. He sighed. He sure was going to miss her.
Ororo stood on tip toes to peer through the spy hole of the rear exit that led out into the employee parking lot. Seeing nothing other than a stray dog sniffing the garbage dumpster she opened the door.
And was immediately yanked from the archway and shoved back against the damp brick wall with a bulky frame blocking her escape.
“Howdy, darlin’.” Wolverine’s teeth gleamed in the darkness.
Reacting instinctively Ororo raised her knee catching him directly in the groin.
“Oomph.” His grip lessened and Ororo managed to jerk free, running for all she was worth towards Vic’s parking space. Headlights flared to life and Ororo lifted her hand, shielding her eyes as a recognizable SUV started towards her, but she didn‘t break stride.
With a wave of her hand she quickly blanketed the parking lot with dense fog, making visibility impossible. She heard Scott’s voice shout, “We just want to talk!”
“I don’t!” she hollered back.
“Jean?” Scott turned towards her, his hands tight on the steering wheel.
“She’s over there.” Jean pointed. “In that general direction.”
Ororo swung her leg over the Harley and pressed the ignition. The bike roared to life, vibrating with force. “Oh, Vic, you wonderful devil,” she laughed giddily. The machine was as much a beast as it’s former owner.
A sharp rotation from her right hand and she was gone, shooting out into the street and rumbling into the night.
Scott leaned out of his window. “Wolverine! What happened? You had her.”
Logan glowered. Getting slammed in the nuts was bad enough; getting slammed in the nuts with an erection was an entirely different level of suckage.
He frowned deeply. Just that brief moment of contact and the sight of her with her mouth parted as her back hit the wall and her eyes flashing had been enough to bring forth the savage desire she had awakened with her dance. “Shut the fuck up, Scooter.”
“Uh, guys…” Jean interrupted. She was staring out the windshield.
“What?” they demanded in unison.
“We’ve got company.”
Lining up in front of and behind the SUV were several employees and patrons of the club. Dead center of the headlights stood one of the two men that Logan had subdued in the private room. The man was cracking his knuckles, wearing a sadistic grin on his face.
Logan growled in anticipation.
Scott held up one hand, slowly opening the driver side door. “We don’t want any trouble, folks,” he said in his best placating voice.
The muscle bound behemoth of a man spoke. “Well, you’ve got some.”
Half a mile away from the club Ororo pulled the bike over onto the side of the road. She sat for a minute, shaking her head and cursing. “Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Just go, Ororo. Just go.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “Damn it.” She gunned the engine, kicking up gravel as she swung the bike onto the road and headed back the way she’d come.
The sight that greeted her as she approached the back parking lot reminded her of a scene straight out of the movies, like The Outsiders where there was one of those old fashioned free-for-alls. In the center of a circle of shouting people Logan and Vic were circling one another aggressively. Vic’s shirt was torn open from collar to hem and Logan looked like he’s taken a few hits as well if the blood staining his chin and cheek were anything to go by.
Determinedly Ororo revved the engine of her bike, only to have the sound drowned out by cheers and screams. She tried again and when that did nothing to get the attention of the slugging combatants she decided on something a bit bigger.
Lightning seared the ground directly between the two men and thunder shook the heavens.
Logan’s head shot up, his attention diverted, something he regretted half a second later as a jumbo fist smashed into his nose. Blood spurted like a geyser, washing over the front of him and across the pavement.
Vic drew back, ready to strike again when Ororo’s voice cut through the night. “Stop.” She elbowed her way through the crowd and caught his massive forearm between her hands. His eyes glinted with a feral sheen. “Stop,” she said again, softer than before, stroking his arm. She knew how hard it was for a feral to rein the beast in once it had been unleashed.
Vic gave her a worried look. “What are you doing?” he whispered harshly. “We’ve got this.” He gestured to the crowd that held Jean and Scott and to the staggered Logan.
She smiled, giving him a small nod of appreciation. These poor folks didn’t have a clue what they were up against. For her. “I appreciate that, more than I can ever say. But, some battles you have to face on your own. I’ll be fine.”
“You sure, gorgeous?” Vic asked. His gaze flickered over Wolverine with obvious disdain.
“She’s sure,” Logan snarled, wiping the back of his hand across his nose. He’d been holding back in the fight, keeping himself on tight reign, not wanting to hurt people that seemed only interested in protecting Storm, but seeing Ororo’s tender concern for the bigger man and watching her hands stroke soothingly, he seriously contemplating unsheathing.
Ororo turned towards the small crowd of fellow employees and patrons. “Thank you all for what you did here tonight, but please, no more violence.” She squeezed Vic’s arm. “Please.”
He nodded curtly and gestured for Bruce to release Scott and Jean. “You heard the lady. Everyone back inside! Drinks on the house!” He gave her a lingering stare. “Remember what I said earlier. Anytime.”
She leaned up and brushed his chin with a kiss. “Same,” she said. “Give Gretchen my love. And the baby.” She felt a small sadness that she wouldn’t get to see their little bundle.
“Will do.” He walked back towards the building, intentionally shouldering Logan as he passed. “Asshole.”
Logan brushed his pants off, straightening and glaring at Ororo. “Your boyfriend’s a real fuckin’ charmer.”
Ororo waved once more at the people filing back into the club. “Isn’t he though,” she said absently. She turned and faced Scott. “You have two minutes to tell me what the hell is it you guys want.”
Scott gave Logan a look. “Wolverine didn’t tell you?”
Ororo‘s smile was impish. “We never really got to converse.”
Jean looked between the two. “But you were in there for twenty minutes,” she pointed out to Logan.
He shrugged, his dark gaze not leaving Ororo‘s.
Ororo crossed her arms. “So I am asking again, what is it exactly you want from me?”
“There is the little matter of the million dollars,” Jean stated.
Ororo cocked her head, but didn‘t look away from Logan. “A drop in the bucket for Xavier.”
“You stole a million dollars from Xavier?” Scott asked, clearly taken aback by that little tidbit.
“It’s gone.” Ororo answered unaffected.
“You spent a million dollars in six months?” Jean looked baffled.
“What of it?”
“It wasn’t your money!”
Ororo let out a short laugh. “It was as much mine as it was Xavier’s.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Scott wanted to know.
Jean closed her mouth abruptly.
Ororo turned on Jean, disbelieving. “You never told them?”
“Told us what?” Scott looked befuddled.
“Xavier was stealing funds from Sebastian Shaw.” Ororo illuminated.
“What?” Logan and Scott echoed one another.
Jean shuffled her feet. “It isn’t stealing.”
“Uh, yeah, it is. When the money you spend doesn’t belong to you, that’s stealing. Siphoning Shaw’s accounts is stealing.”
“Shaw’s money is dirty money,” Jean defended. “He’s crooked.”
“Exactly how does that make what Xavier’s doing less crooked?”
Logan crossed his arms over his broad chest. “That why you left?” he asked.
Ororo scowled. “I had to. I couldn’t stay knowing that. The man talks a big game about helping humanity and making a show of recruiting and helping fellow mutants but what he’s really doing is lining his pockets, for what I would guess, is some sort of political agenda.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Xavier’s just as crooked and power hungry as Magneto. The only difference is that Mags doesn’t hide behind some altruistic façade.”
“I don’t believe this. Jean?” Scott looked at his longtime girlfriend, hoping to have her deny everything that Ororo was claiming.
“Xavier is a brilliant man,” Jean defended. “He is only doing what he has to in order to achieve his goals.”
“I’m sure Hitler felt the same way about what he was doing,” Ororo shot back.
Jean gasped. “Not even close to being the same thing!”
Ororo shrugged. “Whatever. I’m not interested in debating the sanctity of Xavier. I don’t have the money any more, so this conversation is over.” She started to turn away.
“Not quite.” In one quick motion Logan crossed the distance between them and caught her arm. “There’s a more important matter at hand.”
Ororo raised a brow. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” Logan leaned closer, his breath fanning her lips. “Where‘s my hat?”
Ororo lifted her hand to her snowy white tresses, patting them. “Must have fallen off on the bike. Oops.”
Logan pressed a bit closer, inhaling. “I don’t think so.”
Ororo fought down the desire to close her eyes and sway towards him. “You calling me a liar?” she asked.
“Yes.” His fingers absently caressed the baby soft skin on the underside of her arm.
Ororo shivered.
“And a cock tease.” Logan murmured next to her ear.
She jolted him.
Lightning crackled from her fingertips sending Logan soaring across the parking lot with a vulgar curse.
“What the hell?” Scott’s hand shot to his visor.
Ororo brushed her hands together dismissively. “You’ve said what you’ve come to say. I’m out of here.”
“Not so fast.” Telekinetic flames flickered to life in Jean’s eyes. “We need you.”
“Ah. Here comes the real reason for your sudden interest in me,” Ororo said with a knowing glint in her eye and a tilt of her lips. “The what I can do for you portion of this little exchange.”
Jean sighed. “I know how it must look-”
“Not how it looks,” Ororo interrupted. “How it is.”
“Whatever. SHIELD has informed the professor of a category 5 hurricane headed up the Gulf of Mexico. If it reaches land it will make Katrina look like a light breeze. They’ve managed to keep it out of the news and from becoming public knowledge, because they’re hoping that you can stop it. Charles is willing to forget the million dollars you stole if you help.”
Ororo shook her head. “Sorry.”
“Wait a minute,” Scott cut in. “Weren’t you just saying that you were mad at Xavier for not doing anything to help humanity. This is your chance to help and you don’t care?”
“Don’t for one minute think I don’t care.” Ororo stated angrily. She cared. It killed her a little each time she read or heard about some weather catastrophe that took lives, lives she could have saved, but it didn’t work like that. Nature had a course, a timeless rhythm that should never be interfered with.
“Then why not help?” Scott asked. “I mean, I don’t get it.”
“Because it doesn’t work like that.”
“You make storms all the time,” Jean added.
“Yes, but creating a storm is easy and they dissipate quickly. A storm is like a snowball. Easy to make, but if I were to let it go it would be like rolling that snowball down a mountain. You see where I’m going with this? It grows and grows. Stopping an already formed, raging hurricane is like trying to stop an avalanche with your bare hands.”
“If ya can’t do it, just say so.” Logan’s voice, gruff with irritation, came from the shadows as he trekked back across the parking lot. He passed them all and headed towards their still running SUV. “Let’s go, Jeannie. We’re wasting our time. She ain’t up to it.” He cast Ororo a mocking glance. “I’m sure she has more important matters to attend to, like getting back inside and shaking her ass.”
“You weren’t complaining earlier.” Ororo scowled at him. “And I didn’t say I couldn’t do it.”
His teeth flashed. “Prove it.”
Forty minutes later, aboard the X-Men’s Blackbird Ororo cursed herself for her damnable pride and cursed Logan for knowing just what buttons to push to get her riled. She turned in her seat, pulling her backpack onto her lap. She peered over the top of her seat, noting that Logan was leaning back in his seat, eyes closed and Jean and Scott were speaking in hushed, agitated whispers. Probably about Xavier.
Ororo turned her attention back to her lap and satchel. She unzipped it and smiled. Nestled atop her clothes sat Logan’s well worn Stetson. It was a small victory on the whole, but she’d be damned if he got that hat back.
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