Chapter Eleven: Body Heat
No deceivin', nothin' up my sleeve, no teasin'
I need you to get up, up on the dance floor
Give that man what he askin' for
'Cos I feel like bustin' loose and I feel like touchin' you
And can't nobody stop the juice, so baby tell me what's the use
I said it's getting hot in here
So take off all your clothes
~Nelly
Ororo accepted the coffee mug from her friend, feeling just slightly guilty about all of this. It probably violated some best friend rule that she was completely unaware of, but in light of recent events, she really did not see any other choice. Stirring the strong coffee idly as Cyclops sat across from her at the table, she tried to order her unruly thoughts.
In two weeks, things had become rather strained at the mansion. Logan’s nightmares intensified and he steadfastly refused to allow Charles inside his mind. Every night, he awoke calling her name, trembling so hard that she feared fever. She would wrap her entire body around him, rocking him into sleep while singing several Tanzanian lullabies.
During the day, Logan seldom left her side. She had to ensure he was in class when she came to speak with Cyclops, knowing that her dear friend would likely put a stop to it if he knew. Ororo was not in the business of betraying confidences, but she worried continuously about Logan’s mental state.
“I do not understand it,” she said at last to her friend. “He was moving along just fine and now he cannot escape some obscure feeling that I will somehow abandon him.”
“That’s a bit odd,” Scott replied thoughtfully. “I mean, come on, you two have been attached at the hip for years. He doesn’t know why he feels that way?”
Ororo shook her head, braids flapping about her shoulders. “At least, none that he will speak to me of. Scott, I have never seen him this way. I have never, in all our years together, seen him so frightened.”
Her friend was quiet for a moment, looking pensively down at the coffee mug in his hands. Ororo dropped her gaze as well, not wanting to be caught staring. Along with Logan’s terrifying nightmares, things between Scott and Jean were nearly nuclear. Every time they were in the same room, one of them said something scathing. Ororo felt the problem went deeper than the teenage romp left un-confessed.
“Storm, there’s a lot that could be going on with Logan,” he said softly. “I mean, adamantium extraction aside, you two have gotten a lot closer. The whole thing with Magneto “ losing his memory and all “ I mean that’s taken a toll on you both.”
“I realize that, Cyclops,” she agreed with a nod. “But I fear…”
She stopped, swallowing thickly and averting her gaze. She did not want to admit that something was changing between she and Logan. Every time he touched her lately, he set her body on fire in a way that went far beyond the reaches of deep friendship and loyal companionship. There was just something there now when she looked at him. Something begging to be released.
No matter what they were doing, she felt her gaze linger on him a moment too long. He would hold her hand for a second longer than usual. He cuddled closer and closer still while they slept or cuddled on the sofa. Whatever was happening here…she knew she was not alone.
Ororo was still undecided as to whether or not she liked that idea.
“You fear with everything changing, you might be killing something else? That maybe he isn’t ready for this, but you don’t know how to stop it?”
“I hate it when you become astute,” Ororo teased with a small smile.
“Doesn’t take much, you know,” he countered with a slight wink. “There’s energy between you two now. The air crackles, it’s actually a fascinating thing to witness, not that I’d ever tell him that.”
“He would claw you into pot roast.” Ororo chuckled nervously, unsure how she felt about her friend’s comments.
“Look, just give it some time. Everything happens for a reason,” he reached over the table to squeeze her hand. “Maybe that’s what’s driving Logan a little nuts. Maybe he doesn’t know what’s happening here.”
He slapped his chest heartily to emphasize his point. Logan’s fear of abandonment could possibly be related to the changing friendship. Even if she did not want to admit it and was wholly unsure if she wanted everything to change, it was happening. She was not juvenile to deny it completely.
“Thank you, Scott,” she decided the talk was over abruptly.
“No problem,” he replied easily. He knew when she ended a talk it was over until she sought him out again.
A flash of red brought Ororo’s eyes up and she felt her brow raise as Jean entered the kitchen. The red haired woman ignored them both, grabbing a cup of coffee and fixing it slowly. Obviously, she was hoping to catch parts of their conversation.
Ororo watched the curiously straight line of her friend’s back, noting the spotty red marks on her face and neck that betrayed her emotions. Something kept making her cry. Ororo nearly moved to comfort her, until she caught sight of Scott’s face.
His jaw was set angrily and he glared at his lover’s back. Ororo blinked rapidly, nearly unable to believe what she was seeing. Scott only looked upon Jean with sickening devotion and undying love. What would have caused such a sudden change? She knew, more than anyone that Scott scorned was worse than any woman could imagine. He could click on his professional X-Man demeanor and make nearly anyone feel three inches tall.
Scott was an exceptional leader and he used that to keep his personal life orderly. Ororo, near to salivating with curiosity, shifted in her seat, though her facial expression betrayed nothing. Scott glanced at her, turning his head just a fraction of an inch to the left and right, silently telling her to hold her tongue.
Somehow the X-couple was in dire straits and Ororo had chosen a side without anyone telling her war was on. She thought about it, easily deciding Scott’s assumption was spot on. She would have sided with him, barring an unexpected slight on his part. Jean had driven her away easily, after all.
The red haired mutant left without saying a word, though Ororo could detect faint sounds of either crying or cursing coming from the hall.
Expectantly, she turned to Scott.
“She filed for divorce.”
Whatever Ororo had expected, that was not it. She sat heavily back in her chair, her expression an unattractive mix of dumbfounded astonishment and bewildered incredulousness.
“It wasn’t about you and me, but she said she’s been unhappy for a while now,” Scott admitted. “Then she told me about the little affair with Wolverine. When I refused to hear her reasoning, she slammed out of the bedroom. Last week she told me she’d filed.”
“My God, Scott.” Ororo reached across the table to squeeze his hand.
No matter how strong and purely angry he seemed, Ororo knew he was hurting deep inside. He had often told her that he never believed in soul mates until Jean. Though the couple had gotten together as a result of an outdoor romp with her, she had respect for a love that seemed so strong and all encompassing.
The idea that Jean had even told Scott about the affair with Logan was mind numbing. Ororo would have never guessed her friend would confess to that. She would have expected Logan to taunt Scott with it the next time their arguments turned flat out mean.
“Its ok,” Scott gave her a tight smile. “What’s meant to be will be, right?”
Ororo snorted derisively. “Who told you that?”
“You did.”
Scott stood up, taking his coffee and dropping a chaste kiss onto the top of her head. “I know where you are if I need you.”
“Anytime for any reason.”
“Yeah.”
With that, her friend left her alone in the kitchen. Thoughts of Jean and Scott and Logan swirled through her weary mind. At least something had finally driven away debilitating thoughts of Magneto away. She wondered if Jean would follow through with the divorce. If pushed, Jean could go for the jugular just as well as Logan. There was a mean streak in that woman, no matter how sweet and unassuming she appeared to be.
Sighing, Ororo glanced at the clock and decided all these thoughts could wait until later. She had a class to teach on the Civil War.
~**~
The club was throbbing with bass, walls and windows shaking under the constant bombardment. Ororo kept her hand in Scott’s as they picked their way toward the bar. She was woman enough to admit her friend looked wonderful. She was also intelligent enough to know he was proving a point, to himself and his wife.
Tight jeans molded to his long, thick legs. A tight black t-shirt only accentuated his muscular chest. His ruby-quartz glasses glinted in the flashing lights coming from the disc jockey’s booth. Scott kept her close to him, she could smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne.
If he wasn’t careful, she was likely to jump him before the night was out.
Her feelings for Logan aside, there was something inside of her that nursed an attraction to Scott. That was why his choosing Jean had hurt her so deeply. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but when Logan appeared some years ago to chase her friend’s wife, part of her hoped he would catch her. It seemed the door had been left open and she was not above stepping through it.
Most of the X-Men seemed to forget that their stoic and controlled weather witch was a woman above all other things. Logan had drilled into her head that she should not ignore the urges of her body, he continually told her that her heart would tell her what she needed.
Right now, she was telling her head to shut up. If Jean decided she wanted to be rid of Scott, there was no reason Ororo could not have some fun with an old crush.
The Professor had sent them on a mission earlier in the evening. The duo had recovered a young mutant and relocated her to the safety of the mansion. By midnight, the two were so wound up that Scott asked if she knew some place to party. Apparently, he was not as blind to her nocturnal activities with Logan as one would expect.
Scott tugged her toward the dance floor, grinning at her over his shoulder. His gaze lingered on her rather daring outfit, so she shrugged out of her leather duster, releasing his hand quickly. It might have been a trick of the light, but she was sure she caught a hint of drool coming from the side of his mouth.
She knew the song well, waving to the d-jay as she followed Scott. He waved back to her, spinning his records easily. Ororo let Scott pull her into the center of the dance floor. To her surprise he tugged her body flush against his. Their heights made dancing so close not only easy, but rather provocative. Scott’s hands found purchase on her hips and they swayed together in perfect unison.
Logan was going to kill her. And whatever was left of her body, Jean would eviscerate. Ororo turned her body so that her back was against Scott’s chest.
He dropped his face into the crook of her neck while his hands slid forward to flatten over her bare abdomen. Ororo wrapped her dark arms around his head, careful to not disturb his protective glasses.
“You know,” Scott whispered into her ear. “I was just jealous as hell that night.”
“What?” she questioned breathily over the throb of music.
“In the boathouse, when I was such a dick,” he continued, thumbs rubbing in circles over her skin. “I didn’t like it. None of these boys deserve you.”
Smiling triumphantly, Ororo turned her head to kiss his cheek. “Shut up and dance, Summers.”
They ground bodies together, bending at the knees for better contact. Scott’s “interesting” hands smoothed over curves she was sure he had long forgotten. They said nothing else as the music overtook them both. There was nothing against the friction between them. While one of her favorite male singers encouraged the club to take their clothes off, she turned to face Scott again.
His eyes, as always were hidden, but she knew his feelings from that simple grin on his face. If he was Logan, he would be able to smell the want and need pumping through her. She forced thoughts of Logan away. Thinking of him only confused her. She just wanted something to hold on to, from someone who was not reaching out for her help.
She was betraying her friend, but there was nothing she could do about it right now. She was caught up in the moment, Scott taking her back to teenage antics and the sting of a broken heart. This time, she was stronger and Jean was the odd woman out.
It would be different this time.
~**~
The sun had risen to mid-sky by the time Ororo slipped back into the boathouse. Half of her body was blessedly sore, in that positive-life-affirming way. Her clothing was in complete disarray, shoes clutched in her hands. She had no idea where her duster was and in the scramble to get out of the hotel room, she’d forgotten all about it.
Closing the boathouse door behind her, she peeked into the kitchen and sitting room, sighing in relief when Logan was nowhere to be found. She fought the lazy, sated smile on her face as she tiptoed into the boathouse. Guilt had not trickled into her thought process yet, but she was somehow sure it would make an appearance at some point.
She crept toward the staircase, dropping her shoes next to Logan’s boots. She should have noticed that none of his shoes were missing, but in reliving the previous evening, it was noted somewhere in the far back of her mind.
“Someone’s doin’ the walk of shame.”
“Logan!”
Started, Ororo looked up to see Logan leaning on the banister of the loft. He was shaking his head, grinning at her. She noticed with some trepidation that he was avoiding eye contact with her. Ascending the staircase easily, she set about unbuttoning her shirt.
“What? I was just sayin’ yer walkin’ like a fifteen-year-old sneakin’ back into her daddy’s house.”
Laughing softly, Ororo shook her head at him. Logan stepped from the banister, blocking her way from the rest of the loft.
“Logan, what are you doing?”
“Nothin’,” he said a little too quickly. “Jus’ happy ta see ya, is all.”
“Logan…” her tone held a hint of playful warning.
“Someone had a good time last night,” he teased, though his eyes still refused to meet hers. “Wasn’t that a new shirt?”
“Yes.” Her reply was curt, handing keeping the unbuttoned material closed.
“Tell me ya didn’t go all out fer Scooter?” Logan laughed heartily. “Where’d he end up when ya ditched him?
This time, she could not even bring her eyes to him. Whether she was ashamed or embarrassed or some other emotion she had yet to name, she was not sure. Logan reached out, touching her hands gently.
“Hey, what’s the…”
When he trailed off, it was to sniff slightly at the air. Ororo felt her back stiffen, knowing what was coming. It was then, however, that she realized the water was on in her bathroom.
“Logan, is someone here?”
“Forget bout that.” He grabbed her arm. “Why the hell do ya smell like Scotter?”
“Is there someone in MY HOUSE?” Ororo thundered, shrugging out of his grip.
They stood at the staircase, glaring at one another. Ororo felt her stomach sink. She had this terrible feeling that she knew exactly who was in her house, in her shower and where that woman had spent the previous night.
Ororo pushed past Logan, heedless to his soft call of her name. She let go of her shirt, letting it fall open as she found the pile of female clothing on the floor. Unable to believe her eyes, she moved toward the bathroom and pounded on the door.
“’Ro, this ain’t helpin’ anything.”
“Why? Why did you have to fuck her in our bed?” she demanded, pounding on the bathroom door again.
“Ya think I planned all this?” he replied hotly. “Yer one ta cast stones. Have a good time with yer legs around One-Eye?”
“Yes, I did!” she kicked the bathroom door, not caring that her foot screamed in pain. “But at least I respected your space enough to claw his back somewhere else.”
The bathroom door opened a moment later, revealing Jean Grey-Summers in nothing but Ororo’s blue bathroom. Her long hair was swept into a fluffy white towel and there was an astonished look on her otherwise beautiful face.
“Storm. Oh.”
“Oh?” Ororo asked, glaring at the woman. “Get out of my house. NOW!”
“Logan?” The woman addressed the man haughtily.
“Ya best leave, Jean,” he replied quietly.
“I don’t see why everyone jumps when she says to,” the telekinetic woman said as she brushed past both of them.
Ororo did not speak as Jean gathered her things and dressed quickly. Her eyes were locked onto the dark, seething orbs of her best friend. She had no right to be so upset by this, save for the fact that someone unwelcome was in her home without her knowledge.
But just the vague idea that Logan had spent the night with Jean Grey enraged her. She wanted to pummel the other mutant into dust. So violent was her reaction that it frightened her for a moment. Logan seemed teetering on the very edge of his control as well. He could likely smell the aftereffect of Scott’s presence on her.
Once she was sure Jean had left the house, Ororo took a deep breath.
“Don’t bother.” He stopped her quickly. “I’m movin’ back to the main house.”
Starting as though he had physically slapped her, Ororo reached for his arm. “No.”
“No?” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Somethin’ ain’t right ‘tween us anymore. Somethin’ I don’t know how ta fix.”
She nodded quickly, closing her shirt with her hands again. “I know.”
“Ya know?” He shook his head. “An’ ya think goin’ out with Scooter’s the answer?”
“Is sleeping with Jean?”
Neither of them spoke for several seconds. Ororo could feel space erupting between them with sudden and acute pain. Never before had he seemed so impossible to reach. So far and deep was the swift space between them that it seemed ever insurmountable.
“Sleep on it,” she said quietly. “Do not leave me alone. I swore I would stay with you, and I want the same in return.”
“We done fucked up, darlin’,” he responded before turning to sit on the edge of the bed. “Screwin’ a married couple? I mean, that’s gotta hold some kinda record.”
Chuckling a little at his words, she moved across the room to sit beside him. “I will admit that it was premeditated on my part. Part of me still wanted to get back at Jean.”
“Huh,” he grunted. “Shoulda expected that, ‘specially after she cornered ya couple weeks back.”
“What happened here?” she questioned softly. “How did you two…?”
Logan sighed, dropping his head into his hands. “Dunno, ‘Ro, that’s the bitch of it.”
“Go on.” She scooted a little closer, somewhat hurt when he flinched away.
“Sorry, darlin’,” he immediately apologized. “But smellin’ Summers on ya is doin’ wacky things to me. Jus’ don’t sit so close fer a while.”
Ororo stood and crossed the room to sit in the chair beside the window. As she buttoned her shirt back up, she watched her best friend struggle to speak.
“After ya went out with One-Eye, I sorta bummed around here, watchin’ a movie,” he swallowed hard. “Jean came up, startin’ goin’ on an’ on bout how she was leavin’ Scott. How good we’d be together, me an’ her. I tried ta tell her ta go home, wait fer her husband.”
“There is only so much a man can take,” Ororo finished for him. She sighed, sitting back heavily in her chair.
“Yeah.” He rewarded her with a small smile. “Next thing I know, she’s kissin’ me. Things got a little outta hand after that.”
“I am sorry,” she replied softly. “I was surprised and Jean just…”
“Makes ya crazy,” he answered. “If it’d been anyone else, ya wouldn’t have batted an eyelash.”
“Yes,” Ororo agreed. “I wonder what that girl was playing at.”
“She ain’t dumb, ‘Ro,” Logan warned. “She knew the second you an’ Scooter left that somethin’ would happen. Dunno how much of her shit I believe, but the part bout Scottie still wantin’ a roll wit you? I know it’s true.”
Ororo sighed this time, pushing the heels of her hands into her eyes. “We agreed that it was simply a one-night incident.”
“Can ya keep to it? That was some smile ya had on that face when ya came in.”
She might have been suffering from sleep deprivation, but Ororo was somehow certain Logan feared she would indeed abandon him. Did she want more from Scott? Not really. They had fun and she hoped she could convince him to let loose every now and then. But Ororo knew his heart still beat for Jean and Jean only. Once the two of them talked again, their marriage would be saved.
Or so she hoped.
Logan looked up to meet her eyes again. There was something unreadable just below the surface, something that made her heart skip and her breath catch.
“Somethin’s happenin’ between us, darlin’,” he said carefully. “Damned if I know what, but it’s there. We can’t just go on ignorin’ it, hopin’ it’ll go away.”
“We can try,” she said teasingly, giving him a faint smile.
To her pleasure, he returned the gesture.
“Sure we could, but we won’t.” He scratched at his nose idly. “Don’t want it to blow up on us while we’re workin’.”
“Hmm.” She hummed thoughtfully, then bit her lip. “What do you suggest?”
“What I’m suggestin’ can’t happen with ya smellin’ like Cyke,” he smiled to soften his words. “An’ I don’t mean that as a man thing.”
“I know.” She nodded. “We will have to wait.”
“Coupla days the scent’ll be gone, but til then…” he trailed off, sighing. “I’ve gotta sleep in the mansion. Somethin’ bout this just makes me wanna claw somethin’.”
“A-All right.” Ororo nodded, swallowing hard. She did not want to think about how lonely it would be in the boathouse without him.
She knew, however, that taunting the beast inside of him was deadly. In a few days, whatever Logan had planned would help them work things out.
What in hell was she going to do with Scott and Jean’s little mind games in the mean time?
