[Reviews - 31]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story |
Printer Chapter or Story |
ePub eBook Chapter or Story |

Has been viewed 5783 times

- Text Size +




Then:


The Aerie, industrial complex and penthouse, Dallas, Texas:

“Ororo?” The voice calling her name held a faintly Western inflection and held the quiet patience of someone who followed direction rather than giving it. Her limbs felt lax and heavy beneath the tangled bedclothes. The bedchamber was sparely furnished, bearing little decoration.

Footsteps light as a cat’s reached her ears, starved already for the sounds of human contact, though she’d die than admit it. She caught the shift in his weight, in his paces, only a hair uneven as he entered following his brief knock.

“Leave me.” It wasn’t a request. Her voice was hoarse and low, foreign to her own ears.

“Be a shame, wasting a day like this,” he countered, continuing his task as though she hadn’t spoken. He moved to the window and reached for the shade, its loose flap already allowing fingers of sunlight to pierce the darkness of the suite.

“LEAVE ME BE!” Her voice cracked, still a strained rasp from lack of use over the past several days.

“Fraid not, ma’am. You’re in a strange place “ not strange to me, mind you, since it’s mine. This is my home. You’ve been too quiet.” He set down the tray, and the teacup rattled slightly against its saucer. “Kinda like the air right before an earthquake. So still, you can’t even hear the wind blow. Everything still feels charged. Makes the hairs on your arm stand on end.” She’d hunched down further, burying her face miserably in the down pillow. “Or the calm before a storm.”

“Get. Out.”

“Not unless you come with me. I’m not letting you languish in this room one more second. Not like this.” He tugged on the shade to release it, allowing it to retract and snap back onto the roller. She gasped sharply, nearly blinded by the golden glow, washing over her. Her pupils had remained dilated like a cat’s nearly since her arrival to her Spartan surroundings. The Goddess who once craved light and fresh air now cleaved to the shadows.

He felt a pang wrack him as he stared into those eyes and witnessed the anguish in their depths.

“Don’t. Don’t look at me.” She closed her eyes against his gaze, hating the compassionate, pitying stance of his body as he stood tall, with an almost military bearing.

“I’m sorry if I’m taking any liberties, then.” His sigh was gusty. “You nearly died. I know who you are, Ororo. The same man that was trying to bring Rogue in on a federal charge for nearly destroying a SHIELD helicarrier meant to take you into custody. I brought you here, where it was safe. I didn’t want anything to happen to you.” His tone was straightforward, even earnest.

“The worst that can possible happen already has,” she informed him, narrowing red-rimmed eyes. “I’m lost. I. Have. Nothing.”

“You’re alive. You’re a healthy, normal, beautiful young woman with her entire life ahead of ““

“Burn in hell,” she grated out before burrowing beneath the covers, away from the offensive light and the concern in his eyes.

“Have a little conviction when you tell me that,” he retorted. “I’ve been told to go to hell by bigger, badder folks than you. Say it like you mean it.” He had the audacity to sit beside the bed on a black leather ottoman.

“Get out.”

“Make me.”

He never saw her fist coming.

Her shrieking cry of defiance and pent-up rage tore itself from her chest as her knuckles connected with his jaw. He was knocked off the ottoman and landed so hard his teeth rattled. He turned to face her from his vantage point on the floor, cradling the throbbing tissue in his gloved hand.

Humor sparked in his eyes. “Don’t ever let anyone after me tell you that you have no conviction. Or a vicious right.” Her chest heaved as she scrambled to sit up. She clutched the sheets against her chest, unaccustomed to the draft hitting her bare back.

She uttered no apology. He asked for none.

“If you truly believe you have nothing, Ororo, then stay up here in the dark. I can’t make you see the light.” He collected himself and strode out of the loft.

She rose from the bed, wrapping the sheet around her body and tucking the ends like a sari. She contemplated following that outspoken upstart down the stairs, her pride rearing its head.

The lure of the sun and the racing clouds was too great. She padded to the enormous window and stared down at the cars on the street, seeming to mill like ants through a tunnel from her vista of thirty stories up. Her fingertips stroked the cool glass, aching to touch the clouds.

She couldn’t feel them. She was empty.


~0~


Now
Tokyo, overlooking the cliffs:


“Don’t fight angry, Pryde. Fight smart,” Logan grunted, watching Kitty size him up warily as she resumed her stance with the bo staff. They circled each other lie a pair of rival tigers; Kitty’s fawn brown eyes narrowed tellingly as she crouched and swung deftly, nearly clipping Logan in the neck. His staff spun easily in his fluid grip, parrying it and ducking her next attempt. He whistled as the polished wood skimmed the tufts of his hair.

“Not bad,” he huffed. “Decent,” he assured her as their staffs met again and again, the sounds nearly rhythmic and a counterpoint to the waves crashing below.

She was nimble, but not nimble enough.

His sweep was clean and brutal, knocking her legs out from under her. “WHOOOOUULF!” She landed hard, the impact jarring her staff from her grasp, making it clatter uselessly to the ground.

She met the business end of Logan’s staff, whistling through the air to plant itself in the center of her sternum, a neat, non-lethal clip that would leave an annoyingly tender bruise. Her eyes traveled up the staff as she struggled to catch her breath, raking over his weather-beaten hands and broad, shirtless torso and staring into his familiar, gruff face. There were still faint shadows under his eyes.

The glaring scars over his chest served as a reminder of when she’d fought angry. His expression was solemn, as though he’d read her mind.

“Don’t keep beatin’ yerself up over it, Punkin’. I’ve survived worse.” He leaned down and extended his hand to help her up. He’d done it countless times over the past few days. She wanted to scrub her hands of the feel of her own sword, plunging into Logan’s body and cleaving through him like a ripe melon…never. Never again.

They adjourned to the veranda of the bungalow and seated themselves on the mats for their daily meditation. Kitty removed the thick white jacket of her gi and folded it, setting it aside to allow the coastal breeze to kiss her sweat-drenched flesh. Kitty’s face still held traces of the gauntness earned from days of grueling training and a strict regimen under Ogun’s tutelage.

Logan had nearly given up hope, until he realized that wasn’t an option. Come hell or high water, Pryde was coming home with him. Images of Ororo enduring heartbreak over such a loss were unthinkable and intolerable.

Logan and Kitty faced each other with eyes closed, bodies at rest and focused on their core. Kitty’s breaths were deep, puling slowly in through her diaphragm and flaring out through her nose.

She wasn’t fooling Logan.

“I can smell how uptight ya are,” he growled, eyes still closed. She continued to breathe, but tension still made her muscles twitch. Another minute drifted by as she struggled against the voices whispering in her head, pricking her with insidious needles.

She didn’t want to run anymore.

She’d opened a new pair of ice skates on the first day of Hannukah, savoring the last crumbs of a humbly prepared dinner at her father’s apartment. The lake was frozen solid, pristinely beautiful, almost a sacrilege to lash its smooth surface with spanking new serrated blades. The air bit her cheeks and stung her lungs slightly as she trekked through the snow. She was free. No worries.

No aliens. No classes. No ex-boyfriends to avoid. No one telling her she was just a kid. The world wasn’t coming to an end yet, and she didn’t have to help save it this time. Just this once, she was out for recess. And why not? Logan took a break whenever he pleased. Ororo took a break. Even the Professor took a break every now and again, and didn’t limit his vacations to staying in orbit. Ororo told her that everyone inevitably walked their path alone. The inevitable came along and smacked Kitty across the chops.

She wanted to surprise her father at work. She knew Chicago’s public transit like the back of her hand. His receptionist suggested she wait; he wa sin a meeting. He’d been impatient with her. He couldn’t be interrupted.

So she’d phased into the wall. Gotten close enough to eavesdrop a little, in the interest of seeing when he would be done. Her stomach growled at her, clamoring for a slice of homestyle extra cheese, extra pepperoni pizza.

Instead, she heard her father cry out. She shivered and strained her ears from her hidey hole. Carmen Pryde. Divorced father. Humble businessman. And now, embezzler.

She fled, tears frozen on her cheeks as she hurled herself out of the building and into the wind and pelting sleet. He was going to Tokyo. Without her, he was as good as dead.

She hadn’t bargained on the risks to her own life. She had no money. A nearby ATM provided an emergency measure that proved too tempting. She phased through the console and grabbed a handful of bills, and the alarms went off, pounding in her ears. Her own stunned face was captured in the security cameras. Once again, she ran…

A man in a red demon’s mask caught her unaware. She inhaled a cloud of noxious dust that went straight to her head, fogging her vision. She woke up in hell.

He called himself Ogun. She’d called him Master. Her sensei. Her captor. She danced while he pulled the strings.

Recess was over. She was no longer a child. She didn’t recognize the face that stared at her from the mirror. The demon’s mask kept getting in the way. Blood spilled in Ogun’s name became her calling. She was the Daughter of the Demon. And he sent her after the man she’d loved like a father for vengeance so bitter it burned her lips.

The school no longer mattered. Her father didn’t matter. Losing Piotr was a fading memory that flitted on the edges of her consciousness like a bothersome fly. She no longer ran from the pain. She dwelled within its shelter, drawing succor and letting it sustain her.

Logan sniffed, capturing the coppery tang of blood carried to him on the breeze. He opened his eyes and scowled at the sight of Kitty’s teeth worrying her lower lip until it bled. Her diligent lotus position was still stiff, and her mind was anything but clear.

“Aw, screw it,” he muttered, rising from his mat. He didn’t stop walking as he approached Kitty and hauled her to her feet and dragged her along with him. She met his gaze with wide, confused eyes.

“Where are we going? What happened to meditating?”

“We’re goin’ fer a walk. Can’t center myself with ya throwin’ off so much tension I can’t hear myself think.”

“Oh.” She twisted herself around and fell in step beside him.

“Why’d ya run, Kitty?” Without naming their destination they strolled to the beach. Soft white sand swallowed their footsteps; there was something comfortable about the faint burn of her muscles pushing against it with each stride.

“Seemed like the thing to do at the time.” It was nearly time for high tide. Kitty slipped off her shoes and allowed the incoming breaker to suck the moist, glittering sand from beneath her feet and cool her flesh.

“Gotta hand it to ya, Pryde. It took courage ta come ta Charley’s school and deal with yer gift. Ya seemed like ya weren’t afraid t’just jump right in with both feet. And when ya weren’t sure, ya didn’t make any bones about tellin’ us. That’s why ya surprised us when ya left. Twice. Goin’ ta Emma’s school and landin’ right in her hot little hands gave me gray hair. We get ya back, and it’s off ta Chicago fer some R&R, except Ororo fretted about ya from the moment ya left, Piotr’s been walkin’ around with his face draggin’ along the floor, and that blasted dragon of yours had been chewin’ the furniture since ya left. Illyana misses ya. Charley misses ya.”

“The Professor doesn’t know what to do with me. He almost booted me to the X-Babies.”

“Ya seemed determined ta give him reason. Ya made yerself a royal pain in the butt, Punkin’.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did NOT!” He snorted when her foot kicked a wave of itchy sand over his feet as they walked.

“If anyone’s an authority on bein’ a pain in the butt, Punkin’, it’s yers truly.” WHACK! Kitty yelped as he swatted her in the butt, and he broke into a run when she flashed a dangerous gleam in her eye and gave chase, shoes raised over her head to take umbrage.

They were exhausted and wind-tousled by the time they returned to the bungalow. Kitty was relaxed and peaceful, which had been the purpose of the meditation in the first place. He caught her retreating steps and her promise to start lunch before the phone rang on the side table.

“Yeah?” he muttered, dispensing with salutations. A privileged few knew where he was, and only when he allowed it. And only if he was in a good mood.

“It’s Kurt,” he announced in his faintly accented English. He sounded despondent and fretful. “Come home.”

“What’s happened?”

“Bring Katzchen home with you. There’s been a horrible accident. Something happened to Ororo.”

Logan’s fingers tightened dangerously around the receiver, and his claws popped free of their own volition. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. That’s what he got for assuming everyone could manage back at the school without him.

And this time, ‘Ro got hurt.

“I’ll be on the first flight back tonight. Kitty’s comin’ with me.”

“Can I tell her hello?” Kitty, as though on cue, peeked her head around the corner.

“Not now. There’s someone else I need ta call.” He rang off, giving Kurt the reassurances that he wouldn’t do anything rash.

He went outside after lunch and ran five miles down the beach before he was calm enough to dial Yukio’s number. When he broke the news, he heard the light leave her voice before it cracked. He had no answers or solace to offer her.


~0~


Down in the tunnels, thousands of miles away, Sarah played hide and seek with Analee’s four children, giggling behind her hands as she listened to them stumble through the muck. She was good at hiding by now, and she prided herself on being too smart to let herself get caught. The subways rumbled overhead, shaking the roof, and she wondered when the Wind-Rider would come back with more big bags of the supplies and gum like she promised. Her funny friend who made wolf-man sounds with his mouth never showed up, either, making Sarah pout. He was fun to play with; no one ever wanted to play with Sarah. She scratched her cheek, her stubby fingers scrabbling around the rough cartilage protruding through the skin.

She heard footsteps, too big and fast to belong to any of her friends. She gasped and leapt back on a shriek when Callisto poked her lean face behind the wall she hid behind and seized her by the arm.

“Sarah! Come with me NOW!” she barked, and the vein in her temple that ran just below her angry red scar throbbed. Hard, skinny arms swept Sarah up against her chest, and Sarah felt her heart pound, even through the cracked leather of her tank-cut bodice.

“We wew pwaying,” she complained petulantly. Her little legs dangled and flew out behind Cal as she carried her, and Cal swore under her breath, her patience gone.

“HUSH!”

“Whew aw’ we going?”

“We have to hide,” she snapped. “We have to run. You have to be a good girl, baby. Just do as big Cal says, and you’ll be all right.”

“Why?”

“There’s someone that doesn’t belong here. They might not be nice to us.” She hated to hedge like that, but she had no time. She just wanted to grab as many of her kin and move them out of the great tunnel, even if they had to go above ground.

Where was their precious Wind-Rider with her fucking fancy words and band-aid approach to fixing their problems? She could hide them away like good little mice, but she wasn’t there to save them.

She didn’t have time to ponder it as the screaming began, and gunshots rung out.


~0~


Two weeks later:

She could no longer hear the winds’ song. The energy patterns and currents that she saw within the atmosphere were gone. She felt blind.

She no longer commanded the rain. She as at its mercy.

A light knock on her door interrupted her reverie. She put her water pitcher aside and went to open it.

She met Rogue’s worried green eyes through the narrow crack.

“This a private pity party, shoog, or can anyone join in?”

Ororo’s only reply was to back away from the door and leave it ajar, turning her back and making Rogue feel like an interloper. She resumed her chore, namely giving the assortment of potted plants a drink from an old-fashioned aluminum watering pot. It fit, Rogue reasoned. Doing it the old-fashioned way.

“Did you need something, Rogue?”

“Naw. It’s just…Ah wanted ta ask ya what you needed. You’ve been awful quiet since what happened at the river, Storm, an’-“

“Ororo.” Her expression was solemn and tolerant, but her voice was harder than Rogue had ever heard it. “That is my name. Ororo N’Dare Munroe.”

“All right.” Rogue toyed with her gloves and seated herself on a bamboo papasan chair, looking nervous and uncomfortable. “M’sorry.”

“Storm…is just not who I am anymore.” She felt the soil of the tall ficus tree in the corner and saturated it carefully, baptizing it with tepid water and soothing words.

“Guess not. So tell me, shoog, who are ya? What’re ya fixin’ t’do now?”

“I don’t know how to answer that, nor do I know what to tell you.”

“But…yer still one of us. Yer an X-Man…heck, shoog, yer a fighter! We need you, Ororo!”

“For what?” She set down the pot and folded her arms. “It’s stretching the truth to call me an X-Man. I’m no longer a mutant. I’m more of a liability than a team leader. You’d spend more time protecting me in the field than following me.”

“Damn. That’s what ya think? Ororo…Ah came up here ta talk, and ta tell ya I’m sorry. Sorry ‘bout everything. Havin’ ya in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Ororo, ya took a hit meant fer me. Y’all didn’t want me when Ah first came here, and y’all were probably right not to. It shoulda been me. Ah mean, you were the leader. The good one, Storm, you were the boss, and a teacher, and ya’ve done so much ta hold us all together. Ya had this amazing, beautiful power. Ya don’t know what it was like, seein’ things through yer eyes. It was so damned beautiful. Bein’ so connected ta life.” She twisted and wrung her gloved hands. “All mah power does is take away what’s precious. Memories, feelin’s, powers. Ah hurt everyone Ah touch. If ya had just let me take that hit, ya’s still be flyin’ high. Ah’d be what Ah was s’posed ta be, just an ordinary Southern gal who could kiss a man without killin’ him. Ah ain’t connected ta anything, or anyone.” She leaned back into her seat and crossed her legs, swinging one booted foot. “You folks are as much of a ‘connection’ as Ah’ve got. Ah know it was hard for ya, lettin’ me in when all Ah did was try ta take ya out, when Momma was eggin’ me on. But ya gave me that chance. Ya acted like there was somethin’ worth knowin’. And if ya take off, Ah’m gonna lose the one person Ah really connected with. Ya mean more to us than yer powers. Ya gotta believe that.”

“Charles has Moira to help him in the infirmary and with school affairs. I learned what I know of hand-to-hand techniques from Logan, so he would be best suited for that duty with the new incoming students.”

“Roro, quit it; yer makin’ excuses.”

“I’m telling you the truth. Charles is already training Kitten on the use of the Danger Room and the mansion security systems. Nearly a half a dozen X-Men still reside in active, full-time status to protect the students and handle out work in the field.” She moved a spider plant away from the window and clipped off a sprig of dry brown leaves. “I’m not needed here.”

“Yer detachin’ yerself from us. And that’s a lie, anyway, sugah.”

“I don’t lie,” Ororo informed her, and her back was up. Rogue was secretly glad. Ororo had been so listless and dispirited since she returned.

“No, you don’t lie,” Kitty agreed from the doorway. She let herself in and seated herself on Ororo’s bed, hugging a small russet throw pillow against her abdomen. “You’re just following what you told me to the letter: We all travel our path alone. Big whoop. Guess it’s easier that way. You won’t feel so guilty if you leave us now. You have an excuse.” Ororo’s blue eyes flashed with indignance.

“Nothing about this is easy, Kitten! Don’t the two of you see? What do I have to offer a school for mutants? Or you?” She met their baffled looks with a faint glare. “Charles brought me here with the purpose of experiencing what the whole world had to offer, not just my own corner of it. To learn, but also, to teach, and then to lead. You’ve both exceeded what I could possibly teach you. Kitten, I hardly recognize you anymore. You’ve grown so much.” Her voice was nostalgic, and the warm admiration in her face made Kitty feel a rush of hope.

“You were the reason I came here, y’know. Piotr was cute, the Prof made me nervous, and Logan was scary, but you were the one who made me feel like everything would be all right. I didn’t feel like a freak, and when everything at home was falling apart, I had you.”

“I will always be your friend, Kitten. I care about you so much.”

“Sure you do. That’s what Piotr said before he dumped me. That’s what everyone says before they leave.” Kitty chucked the pillow aside. “Let’s go, Rogue. We can’t make her stay if she’s all fired up to leave. Ororo, I rushed home to see you. I didn’t know it was just to say goodbye.” She phased through the door to the loft, and Rogue sighed.

“Kid’s got a point.” She poised herself by the door. “Ah’ve said mah piece.” She no sooner opened it when a gruff voice made Ororo freeze in the act of tucking a plant food spike into a large terra cotta pot.

“Maybe I ain’t said mine.” Logan looked dangerous, the corners of his mouth petulant and unappeased. Ororo straightened up to her full six feet and stared him down, her arms crossed beneath her breasts. She peered at Rogue, who was watching the scene with interest. Logan directed his words at her, even though his eyes were still locked on the pair shooting off blue sparks. “Scram, kid.”

“Um. Yeah. Heh.” She skedaddled, but not before Kitty phased up through the floor as she reached the end of the hall. She grabbed Rogue’s gloved hand.

“Maybe we can hear them from beneath the floor?” Kitty suggested on a whisper.

SLAM! Rogue and Kitty both flushed and fled.

“Ooooooooo,” Rogue declared, not wanting to be in Ororo’s shoes for a change. “Wish Ah was a fly on the wall.” Kitty phased them back down to the second floor.

Logan’s eyes flicked briefly over the profusion of plants. “Thought ya gave all of these away.”

“They keep finding a new home here. Every time I walk inside this loft, there’s another one mysteriously left there to greet me. And the students look strangely guilty.” The corner of her mouth quirked. Logan grunted at her, unamused.

“Ya just take off as soon as anyone’s back’s turned.”

“You would know.” One platinum eyebrow arched itself in challenge.

“That ain’t you.”

“This isn’t me!” she snapped. “I can’t sense the energy within these accursed plants. I can’t hear them anymore.”

“Ya used ta hear plants?” he scowled, somewhat baffled.

“Anything that springs from the earth.”

“Useful enough, if ya wanna be Charlie’s gardener, but not worth missin’ much. Ya water ‘em, ya give ‘em some air, an’ they grow. Problem solved.” His cavalier attempt at consoling her wasn’t well received.

‘What do you think you know about my problem?”

“I think yer lettin’ it eat you up. The Storm I know -"

“ORORO!” Her face was thunderous. “There’s no Storm in this room, Wolverine!” His mouth flattened into a thin line.

“The Storm I know,” he continued, “hated bein’ locked up inside all day, moping about losses she couldn’t change. The Storm I know didn’t keep burying herself outta sight and clamming up like a little mouse.” The image was ludicrous in her mind as she stood staring down into his eyes. “Life’s fer the livin,’ darlin’, even if I hafta drag ya kickin’ and screamin’ back to it!”

“I dare you to try.” Logan exhaled gustily and cracked his knuckles.

Moments later, Logan got a mouthful of the back of Ororo’s shoulder as she struggled to free herself from his hold, as unyielding as a grizzly’s when he hoisted her up. Her arms were pinned to her sides as she cursed him in Egyptian. Her heels bounced off his shins and knees, bruising wherever they landed, but he carried out his self-appointed task and flung open the balcony doors. Cool, moist air beckoned to her, but Ororo shrank away from the dim sunlight dappling the ledge.

“The Storm I know… shit! That don’t tickle, darlin’! The Storm I know craved light and life. She didn’t take anyone’s shit, and she didn’t shrivel up and die when something knocked her down.”

“Let me go! Don’t make me do something we both regret, Wolverine!”

“Like what? What’re you gonna do? Big, bad Storm coulda given me a run fer my money. Ororo can’t cut the mustard, from the looks of it. Ya might look like her, but ya ain’t got the fire and sass Storm always had!”

“The devil you say!” She struggled against him, her muscles beginning to burn, and she shivered against the breeze that whipped up and ruffled her hair, fortifying her. “It would have been better if that blast had killed me! I’m no one now! I have nothing! You don’t understand!”

“I know ya don’t believe that,” he rasped beside her ear. “If anyone knows anything about wantin’ ta die when ya got nothin’ ta live for, yer lookin’ at him.” He loosened his grip and let herself free from him, and she spun on him, wielding her words like knives.

“You don’t know what it’s like, Wolverine! My mother and father died protecting me, and I was lost for so long! The Bright Lady gave me a gift in exchange for what she took from me, and she made me her daughter. I was a guardian of every creature that walks, swims or flies. She blessed me with a precious burden to protect life and nurture it, and I’ve failed.”

“Bullshit.” Logan didn’t believe in a higher power that could take anything more from him than what he’d already lost. But he wouldn’t belittle her faith.

“Everything happens for a reason,” she reminded him.

“That reason’s on government payroll and rebuildin’ that fancy penthouse, last Rogue told me.” She threw up her hands as though she were explaining it to a child.

“I’m. Not. Worthy,” she spat. His hackled relaxed, and he unclenched his fists, the wind suddenly taken from his sails.

“Aw, ‘Ro, damn it…” She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself before she turned her back on him.

“You heard me. I can’t lead you. I can’t lead the Morlocks. I can’t protect anyone, and I won’t have you obligated to protect me.”

“Then maybe yer fergettin’ somethin’, darlin’. I don’t take obligations lightly, and I only place ‘em on myself.”

“I can protect myself.”

“And I protect what I love.” She froze and Logan heard the hitch in her breath. Her scent flew back in the breeze to stroke his senses and entice him. “And yer gonna catch yer death out here like that.” She wasn’t dressed for the chill in the air, but she stubbornly stood her ground. You’re the one who insisted on this little excursion, she mentally accused him.

“What did you say?” She didn’t turn all the way around to meet his eyes, so all he saw was a glimpse of her patrician profile.

“I’m grabbin’ you a jacket,” he grumbled evasively, realizing that somewhere in the last few things he’d said he’s suddenly lost ground and shown his hand.

“Oh, I think not,” she retorted, and her voice held more starch, telling him his pep talk was helping, even if it wasn’t in the way that he’d hoped. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Ya wanted me ta take a flyin’ leap a minute ago, and ya acted like ya were gonna follow me down when ya were spoutin’ off this ‘I’m not worthy’ crap. Wasn’t too long ago a certain woman told me I was worthy when I was feelin’ like shit, and like my life had gone ta hell. I lost someone precious, even though she was so close, but just hoverin’ out of fingertips’ reach. That certain women saw somethin’ in me worth tryin’ ta pull bacl from the ledge. That woman held me and cried fer me when I was done with tears, and made me feel like my dirty hands were clean again. Like I was worth something. Vital. Needed. Cared for.” She stood motionless over the balcony rail.

“You didn’t need me to tell you that.”

“The fuck I didn’t.”

“Mariko loves you with every breath.”

“She ain’t dyin’ without me.” His arms still craved the feel of her, even struggling. There was a vestige of her scent clinging to his clothes, and he held himself back from reaching for the source.

“I think she is.” Upon their return from Tokyo, Ororo had placed Mariko’s letter in Logan’s aluminum safebox of keepsakes in his closet, knowing he would want to re-read it and savor it again when it didn’t hurt as much. She remembered those eloquent words in her copperplate script and sighed.

“Guess it chaps my hide that I can’t return the favor an’ show that woman I was just tellin’ ya about that she needs ta follow her own advice and quit hidin’. Yer just lickin’ yer wounds, but they’re still bleedin’. And for the record, darlin’, that woman’s name was Storm.”

“She’s gone.” Her voice shook.

“No, she ain’t.” She reached up to lace her fingers behind her neck, and her shoulders slumped. It was like watching her wilt.

The breeze picked up, making the trees sway, and the clouds rolled and billowed in a darkening blanket.

“I won’t keep you.”

“I ain’t leavin’ you.”

“Then you’re very stubborn and wasting your time.”

“I’ve got nothing but time, ‘Ro.” She wouldn’t budge. “But let me know if I’m wastin’ yours. If pinin’ away over this is all ya want, and nothin’ else’ll make the pain go away, then end it. Jump.” She finally faced him, and shock was written over her features.

“Logan…” Her mask had slipped; the omission of his codename made him hope.

“Ya don’t wanna live. Ya don’t wanna let anyone in, especially this old soldier who’s dyin’ a little each time ya shut him out. Fallin’ might feel like flyin’ for about ten seconds, ‘Ro. Four stories up. Can’t hurt the kids or Charlie or Petey, Elf and Kitty any more than ya are now. Do it.” Her heart hammered, and she didn’t feel the drizzle of rain kissing her arms, exposed by her kaftan.

“Yukio was my teacher, Wolverine,” she murmured. “Don’t put it past me.”

“Then don’t put this past me: I love you.” He didn’t make a move toward her, not wanting her to turn around and make good on her threat.

“Liar.” The rain pelted the roof and began to pool in the gutters.

“Ain’t never lied to ya, darlin’.” She shook her head, and her chin trembled. “I want the woman who held me in the rain. I want the woman who’s followed me ta hell and brought me home. She’s stubborn as a damned mule, though, and she’s probably getting’ cold.” He closed the gap between them and reached for her hands, which were now covering her mouth, and pried them away. Her entire body tensed, screaming for the contact, but she stood fast. His thumbs stroked her knuckles as he lifted them to his own lips, his warm breath bathing her flesh. “I love that woman. Not just the high and mighty goddess. Not just the hero, the teacher, or the good little soldier in a pretty uniform. I love a real woman who talks in her sleep and tastes like lemon drops.” She was trembling; he only warmed her hands. He wouldn’t make her come in from the cold; she had to figure that out for herself. “I love her sass.” He kissed her fingertips, and he felt her eyes devouring him hungrily, but still kept his own down, studying her smooth skin and slender hands. He turned one of them face up and brought it to his cheek, leaning into its softness. The rain was soaking him, but he didn’t care.

“Blast you,” she hissed. “You “ you think you can say you love me, and…” She shook her head. He nodded, and his eyes silenced her. Raw emotion blazed within their depths. Concern and pain warred with passion and a need so intense it burned her.

“Not think. I know. And I’ll say it til ya believe me.” The winds howled and buffeted them, tearing at their drenched clothing. She returned her fingers to his lips to hush him, but he chanted it into her flesh. “I love you, ‘Ro. Love ya do damned much I can’t think.” Saline and raindrops mingled on her cheeks.

Wordlessly she enveloped him, holding onto him like a life raft. He smothered a groan of relief and returned the embrace. His hands warmed her, flattening against her back in greedy caresses, and he heard himself offering soothing words amidst the din of the storm. The rhythm of his breathing was all she heard, and she took shelter in the hard, sculpted planes of his body, and he felt her heart slamming inside her chest. She drew back and bit back a sob, but she cradled his face within her palms.

“Then a certain woman’s about ready to come inside.” She breathed a sultry trail of kisses starting at his hairline down the bridge of his nose, gradually, sweetly landing on his mouth. Her kiss replaced oxygen and nearly threw him off balance, but his arms tightened around her just as desperately as they had when he brought her to the balcony. She melted against him, deepening the kiss and basking in his heat and strength. She broke the kiss just long enough to breathe.

“You’re an infuriating, stubborn, hardheaded man.”

“Uh-huh.” His smile was lazy and wicked before he leaned up and caressed her throat with his lips, grazing her pulse with his teeth. She moaned and trembled as the rain lashed her back wherever his arms didn’t reach.

“And I loved you from the moment we met.” She might as well have socked him in the gut.

“Shit.”

“I love you, Logan.” She memorized his features with her eyes, savoring the moment that passed between them and the soft look of affection and quiet passion, just for her.

“Yer not just gonna tell me that and jump off the roof? Just ta spite me one last time, darlin’?”

“That’s only fun when you can fly. Yukio never convinced me any differently, though she tried.”

“She’s carryin’ a torch for ya.”

“Tell her my heart’s already taken.” Her fingers combed through his dripping hair. “Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we go inside?” She kissed him again, stealing his reply from his lips, and he found himself nearly stumbling backward toward the door. He kicked it shut after him and growled in triumph as she pounced on him. Her hands stroked him and explored him, impatiently tugging aside the barrier of his clothes. Her kaftan hit the floor with a wet plop, and he couldn’t get his fill of her, lapping her satiny skin dry. He drank the rain from its hiding places in every dip and sweet hollow of her body, and she clung to him, tugging that marvelously thick hair to encourage him back to her neck.

“Don’tcha ever tell me yer not worthy, or that ya failed. I need my ‘Ro.”

“I need you,” she breathed, and she moaned as his palm cupped her breast, making her tingle. He warmed each nipple in the velvety heat of his mouth as he suckled her. She felt the pull of sensations pooling in her womb and feminine center and cried out for more.

And he gave her more. They tumbled onto the bed and took shelter in each other’s bodies and searching hands. The press of Logan’s body covering hers, the luxurious feel of his taut muscles and warm skin covered with a crisp mat of hair thrilled her. No inch of her body was left untasted or uncherished. He wanted to drown in her caress, even though he knew she’d always pull him back to shore.

“I love you,” he cried out. He repeated it as he laced his fingers through hers and stretched her hands above her head, rocking his mouth over hers as he thrust home. He groaned in delight as he sank into her hot, wet silk, and she moved beneath him like a wanton.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Love me with everything you have. I’ve wanted you too long. Far too long.” Her words died away as he swiveled and pistoned his hips, and she was lost in the feel of him. The maelstrom raged outside, and the scene of rain enhanced the fragrance of Ororo’s plants, the only audience to the play of limbs atop the mattress. Her legs locked around his waist as he rode her, his voice exultant as he grated out her name.

“Oh, God! Ororo! Need you,” he insisted. “Love you…” She clamped down around him, increasing the friction as he pulsed within her until everything else fell away. He couldn’t get enough of her. He couldn’t stop thrusting, filling her, plunging faster, harder, knowing he couldn’t ride his own high unless she came with him. He needed her with him, as badly as water and air.

“Logan! GODDESS! So good,” she moaned. “You feel so good. I love you. Love you,” she chanted. Their bodies were slicked with sweat and sensitive to every touch. Their eyes met, and she cradled that determined face that she loved in her palms. Her kiss scorched him. Nourished him. She felt her climax waiting, coming to claim her. Her nails raked his back and he roared, his hips reflexively pounding into her until she bucked. Her eyes beseeched him to follow her, and the clench of her muscles squeezing him undid him. His body jerked, and he bowed his face into the nook of her shoulder as he came; their bodies rocked together in sync, and she wouldn’t let go.

Their breathing was ragged as they sprawled in a limp tangle.

Above them, the rain dwindled to a fine mist, dripping in slow, narrow runnels across the skylight. For a fleeting moment, Ororo swore she felt the retreating roll of thunder, but it was Logan’s heartbeat, which she palmed over his back.





You must login () to review.