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Shadenfreude: Chapter One



Logan stretched as he walked towards the balcony. Dawn was fast approaching. Its rays appeared as welcoming arms, and he was ready for this Monday morning.



*Welcoming arms,* he thought to himself. Since when was he a fan of poetic terms, and sunrises for that matter. He scratched at one of his stubbornly thick mutton-chops.



His mind ran through the highlights he was going to have later on. Beer, food, beating on the older students...err training with the older students, tactics classes, food again, more beer. His afternoons were actually the best part of the day. That’s when he got to take the younger children out. Training with them included sports, wildlife walks, paint ball, all sorts of fun stuff. Of course, when it was suggested that he do this, he reluctantly accepted. He smirked to himself. Reluctant was a gross and disgusting understatement. Ororo had threaten him in oddly sadistic ways if he wasn’t actually going to do it. So he “relented.” He never told her that he had every intention of doing it in the first place. Where would the fun be in that?



Thinking of Ororo turned his smirk into a grin. He turned around to lean his back against the balcony railing, and lit a cigar. He loved annoying the hell out of her, and making her angry was the equivalent to handing out free cheesecake smothered in thick hot fudge to dieters. He would actually be able to sleep better at night knowing that he could make her mad as hades. She would still be more beautiful than anything or anyone he’d ever come across, and that thought no longer bothered him. Logan took a long drag of his cigar, closed his eyes and leaned his head back. His hands gripped the railing of the balcony so hard that his knuckles turned white. Oh yeah, he usually did have to brace himself when he thought of Ororo.



When she was mad, as he often saw her, cheeks would flush. She would get that adorable little twitch in her left nostril and one of those perfect eyebrows would raise. Her stance would also change. Those legs, of which he couldn’t stop from admiring even though they were kind of short, would part to be parallel to her shoulders. Her arms would tense, and depending on how mad she was they would sometimes cross over her chest. He opened his eyes and grunted at that idea. He, long ago, learned how to not make her that mad. The last thing he wanted were more things getting in the way of her breasts.




He loved how she would literally get in his face when she wanted to get her point across. She would even lean forward just a little, and that was the perfect position. He got a good view of everything that way: shoulders, which would make his teeth ache for action, boobs which would often be protruding through her many shirts. He would think that her breasts would do that on their own. It was almost as if they peeked through for some air. Poor things. Her behind would also stick out. A fairly loud involuntary growl escaped him.* Dammit,* he thought, *I need to get that shit under control.* He slammed his eyes shut again desperately trying to get the blood to go back where it belonged. Of course it didn’t work. His tri-force of power expanded and tightened, as if to mock him. He forced himself to think of something else.



He turned around to face the Xavier Gardens. The manicured lawns, the shrubbery maze, and the stunning array of flowers often reminded him of a place that also seemed like h...He forcibly shook his head. No, this was the only home he’d knew of. He raised his eyes a little more and he could clearly see the memorials. He took another drag. As he slowly inhaled, he thought of those three people who forever changed his life.



Xavier. Just the sound of the man’s name warranted respect, as did his ideas and the majority of his actions. He had opened his home and his facilities to Logan without a second thought. Well, not really. The man was an extremely powerful telepath. His thoughts happened faster than bullets. So he probably thought much more than twice about letting in strangers. But he made everyone feel welcome. Logan knew that whatever great ill that he did, or however long he stayed away, he would ALWAYS be forgiven and welcomed back at the Institute. Logan let loose a shard sigh. He never experienced that kind of security before. Logan also remembered standing at the man’s grave a year and a half ago. He was glad that he didn’t have to apologize for being wrong and completely out of line when it came to the Phoenix. Xavier was right when it came to the psi-blocks. Without them Jean was lost in her own mind. But, he still should have just told her about them. She still should have known they were there. What if she could have found them comforting? Logan’s brow folded deep. Thinking about this always hurt.



Yes, thinking of Jean now hurts. He knew how painfully ironic that was. When he first met Jean, she was the opposite of hurt. She was friendly, warm, and welcoming. (Unlike a certain resident ice-queen / weather-bitch...ha ha ha!) She was everything a man would want to come home to. She smiled at him in every way possible. With a delicious mouth, with those forest green eyes, and even in his head. It happened, oh so fast. One minute he was unconscious from getting his head kicked in and being blown up in the snow, the next he felt a soft, warm, lithe had tickling him. He opened his eyes, and she stuck a fork in him because he was done. Thanks to her, he knew that it was possible for him to feel that way about a woman. She unlocked a door that he didn’t even know existed. He would be eternally grateful for that.




Watching her get warped by her own power was devastating. He felt so helpless. Another growl came out. He was that helpless one other time in his life. Weapon X. He grunted again at even more irony. He ran away from the control of Weapon X, and he ran to the out of control Phoenix. What the hell? He was beginning to feel like he was cursed or like he was being stalked by really shitty luck.



He hated the Phoenix. She was not Jean, in his opinion. This evil thing-a-ma-jig captured Jean in a box and took her far far away. The dead bird stole her entire life. She didn’t deserve that. He hoped and prayed that Jean understood that he and Ororo knew how she felt inside the Phoenix. They were experts on how it felt to be trapped, and helpless to your environment. It was a fate he wouldn’t even wish on Sabertooth.



The last grave always made him feel like a piece of shit. Here lies a good man. Done in far before his prime. He was another that truly didn’t deserve his fate. The poor guy didn’t even see it coming. Logan remembered Scott’s downward spiral into depression. First at Alkali Lake, where Jean’s first self sacrifice allowed them all to live. He watched with awe and a hint of jealousy as Cyclops turned into Scott and never really came back. He wanted to know what it was like to love someone that much too. It was as if Scott and Jean had given up their lives for each other. Everyone else in between was cannon fodder.



He noticed something that quickly snapped him out of his revery. It looked like a body in an odd position on top of the graves. Great! That’s the last thing people need around here, death on top of death. He squinted when he thought he saw the body shift. That’s when he saw the shape and the distinguishing characteristics of the body.



“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he swore. “She did it again!” Ororo had fallen asleep on the graves for the umpteenth time.



He toke a dive off the balcony and landed with the grace of a cat. He tore through the gardens and stopped in front of her sleeping form. A funny sound came out of him. He realized that he had grit his teeth to keep from laughing at her. She looked so terrible, but painfully gorgeous at the same time. She was in her blue and white two piece cloud print pajamas, which were caked in dirt from the rain last night. Seeing her here, he also realized that the rain was her fault too. Her mouth was parted in a sleepy “O”, and her short two toned hair was tousled to high heaven and also covered in mud. She shifted again and suddenly kicked her legs out, and waved her arms wildly in the air. She mumbled something about Jean better not wake her up this early any more for classes, then she stopped, and went back to a silent sleep. When she was moving around, her shirt got stuck underneath her chest and it revealed a toned dark tummy that begged to be rubbed.



Never one to turn down a offer like this, he did so.
“Storm...,” he gently prodded.
“No flighting, no Shlorm,” was his response, and a funny sounding snore that made him smile. She was so gonna hear about that later. He bent down and shook her gently.
“Common, Roro.”
“Huuuh...” She fluttered her eyes, and squinted from the sun.
“Well, looked who finally decided to grace us with her presence.”
“I hate you.”
“Good morning to ya too, darlin.”



She was forced to see that shit eating smirk first thing in the morning. It was not going to a good day. She groaned and tried to roll over. A warm and calloused hand on her stomach stopped her. And much to her chagrin started something else deep inside her. *Oh common,* she thought to herself, *can I please catch just one break.* She looked at his hairy mug and noticed that his eyes were closed and he seemed focused. *Goddess no, please tell me he can’t smell it!*



“Common, you gotta get up now, they’re callin’ for you inside. Did you have a conference call this mornin’ with the Academy of Tomorrow? Hmm...I think ya did.” He pulled her up to her bare feet. “We need to get ya inside so they can stop sceamin for ya.”



“Is that what you where doing, listening to them call me?”
“Yep.”
He didn’t miss the brief flash of relief that flew through her pretty face. He decided to let her slide on the other thing his enhanced scenes caught. It looked like she had a busy day ahead of her, so he’d bring it up at another more inconvenient time.





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