Chapter Fifteen: Heart and Body
Be careful with my heart
You could break it
Don't take my love for granted
Things could change
Sometimes I go insane
I played the fool and you'll agree
I'll never be the same
Without you here with me
~Ricky Martin
“By the Goddess.”
“Holy shit.”
Ororo stared at the security monitor in mute horror, one hand flying up to cover her passion-bruised mouth. Her head still swam from the unexpected kiss, from Logan’s sudden fervor just seconds ago on the sofa. It was unlike anything she had experienced before.
She wanted to go back to that moment, though her eyes were frozen on the figure currently thrashing the mansion’s electrified gate. From the camera number, she knew it was closer to the boathouse than the mansion, which meant she and Logan were to be the first line of defense.
Deciding to chance a glance at him, she swept her gaze to her companion. Logan’s hand had somehow made a grab for hers, entwining their fingers as they watched the figure pull out the enormous posts that held the gate in place. Ororo knew those went at least five feet into the earth. What sort of creature was this?
“Its robotic.”
Logan’s voice betrayed the same concern and troublesome fear that she found in his eyes. Confused, she darted her gaze back to the monitor before turning to him fully.
“What?”
“That’s the same thing we fought a while back,” he said quickly. “My first mission back.”
“When I was gone,” she added, trying to not think about that day.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “We’ve gotta stop it ‘fore it hits the school.”
“How?” Her word ended in a surprised squeak as Logan tugged on her hand, all but dragging her toward the boathouse’s front door.
“Slow it down an’ wait fer the cavalry.”
She swallowed air in an audible gulp, following Logan as best she could. If he knew this monstrous thing, perhaps there was a way to stop it altogether.
Outside, the snow bit into her bare feet, more from the sharpness of icy snow than the bitter cold. She could see the robotic menace from the porch of her home, but that did not reassure her in the least. Her mouth fell open in shock and she dropped Logan’s hand, halting dead in her tracks in front of her home.
Logan, seemingly noticing something was wrong, stopped on the porch stairs.
“You ok, darlin’?”
“It is huge.” She blinked, staring at her new enemy in the gleam of early morning light. “How can we defeat such a thing?”
“It ain’t so big, baby,” he said soothingly. “Come on, get yer ass in the air an’ make it a lot colder.”
Ororo nodded, shaking herself forcibly. They had fought more terrifying foes before, always returning victorious. Even if the robotic opponent did seem larger than life, she knew more than anyone that everything had a weak point. Everything could be killed.
“All right,” she swallowed hard, looking to Logan expectantly. “Weak spots?”
“Neck, mainly,” he replied promptly. She leapt from the porch, landing beside him as he began to run.
The grating sound of his claws releasing heralded battle, something Ororo had not heard or even wanted in months. But now, in this snow-blanketed afternoon, the thrill of combat slipped into her veins, pumping adrenaline through her system. Her heart rate increased as she and Wolverine bolted across the lawns spread between the lake and her boathouse.
It had finally completed it’s assault on the fence. Storm watched as it stepped over the remains, it’s enormous red eyes scanning the surrounding area.
“Halt mutant! You will be detained for processing.”
Storm raised one white brow, coming to a halt beside Wolverine when he apparently thought they were close enough.
“Yeah, yeah,” he was shouting toward the robot. “Halt mutant, my ass.”
She managed to smirk, lifting her arms and summoning the winds to obey her command. Wolverine glanced at her, blowing a kiss over his shoulder. Storm was shaking her head in mock dismay as the temperature around them plummeted.
“Come an’ get the mutie, bub,” Wolverine was still shouting; taunting the robot.
High aloft, Ororo could see the other X-Men coming from the mansion. Many of them had not bothered with their uniforms as well, but immediately flew into battle. Warren, who dove toward the robot at impossible speeds, distracting the monster for precious seconds while the others moved in closely, joined Storm in the air.
Iceman, completely covered with a thick shielding of frost, rode one of his “slides” toward the flying pair.
“Hey Storm?”
“What?”
“Drop the temp a lot more,” the young X-Man was saying breathlessly. “Lets take its legs out, work our way up.”
Biting at her lip, Ororo contemplated this. What Bobby proposed would likely work, but it would require below freezing temperatures. Each pair of blue eyes met, reflecting the concern and stubborn determination. They could do this and working in tandem would mean they would not overtax themselves.
“Angel.” She turned to the other man sharply. “Tell Psylocke and Jean to shield the X-Men as much as they can. It is going to be extremely cold for a few moments.”
“All right.”
In a flutter of feathery wings, he was gone, swooping through the chilled air toward the laser flashes and purple psi-blades of the others.
“Bobby, we have to do this fast.”
“I know,” he agreed. “We can handle the cold, but they can’t. Shadowcat was ordered by Cyclops to get inside of it, try to get some information.”
“Of course he did,” she said disdainfully. Shaking it off, Ororo nodded, raising her hands.
“GO!”
Iceman back-flipped off of the iceslide as she dropped the area’s temperature. Though the cold had no effect on her, in mere seconds icicles were forming on her hair and clothing. Sweat instantly froze to her skin, breaking out in many little cuts over her face and arms. Grunting with force, Ororo fought the coming snow, keeping the visibility of a clear day with temperatures more welcome in the Arctic.
She watched as her friends dodged in unison, evading the towering foe’s massive arms and the laser blasts coming from its hands. Logan had slipped from her sight, along with Kitty, making worry clench in her chest.
Bobby was in rare form. He slipped, slid, and glided along his iceslides, hand pointing toward the robot’s tree-trunk sized legs. Ice crept like wild ivy, halting the enemy’s progress in her family’s direction. Gritting her teeth with the effort it was taking to keep the cold from overwhelming her, she brought down hail the size of grapefruit. It was localized on the robot, though her friends only narrowly evaded it once or twice.
A laser blast came her way, but she darted sharply to the right. Lowering one hand, she barely restrained a lightning strike from escaping her control. Psylocke took a laser hit to the chest and Ororo had to calm herself by sheer force of will. Angel swooped in, collecting his beloved and whisking her to safety.
Satisfied that her darling Betsy was in good hands, Storm turned her attention back to the matter at hand.
She never saw it coming.
A whip-like tentacle lashed out from the robot’s hand, wrapping around her unprotected midsection like a vice. Breath was shoved from her lungs, her arms dropping in self-defense. The cold began to abate and though she felt as though the tentacle was squeezing the life out of her, she raised one arm, bringing back that biting cold.
“Get off of her!”
Not Logan’s voice, but Jean’s. Storm, unable to breathe, mentally screamed for help. Several red-hot optic beams tore at the mechanical whip holding her, but it did not loosen. Kicking her legs in a vain attempt to free herself, Storm could feel her hold on the elements weakening again.
“Ya heard the lady.”
That was Wolverine. Ororo glanced over her shoulder, noting he seemed to be floating beside her. Likely Colossus had tossed him into the air, keeping him aloft with Jean’s help. The slicing of metal against bone made her teeth ache, but she knew he was getting through.
Before the metal vice released her, a sharp pain bit into her belly. Gasping against it, she felt the grip weaken and she kicked the ropey metal away.
“I have her!”
She heard Peter’s booming voice a moment before she fell. Knowing he was below her, she kept her hold on the elemental cold. His massive, metal-plated body would be able to catch her without problem. She could still do her best to aid the others.
Raising both hands to the dead air, Ororo brought forth a cold front unlike any before. She heard Bobby exclaim with something akin to shock and appreciation. Cyclops was barking orders. Jean was rushing toward her. Everyone else was concentrating on their enemy.
Storm felt Peter’s metal body shift into flesh as he caught her, trying to soften the blow. The inertia still drove him back onto the snowy ground, but they were both safe. He cradled her against his chest, giving her weakened body strength.
Before her, she watched Iceman twisting his block of ice around the robot with the limitless grace of one in his element. Rogue had the monster’s metallic whips around her wrists, but it seemed that she wanted it that way. It really looked as though she was arm-wrestling with it.
Wolverine was perched on its shoulder, though he was not doing anything. Storm assumed he was waiting for Kitty. If Scott wanted information, it would be best to get it from within the beast itself. Keeping her control in place, she watched as the ice slid further and further up the terrible creature.
Finally, Wolverine and Shadowcat bailed off of the shoulder of the robot, landing safely in a net of telekinetic energy provided by Jean. Rogue gave a massive tug on the whips from its hands. Storm winced when the sound of scraping metal resonated through the cold air.
The X-Men had effectively torn the creature in half.
Red eyes flickered to black as the top half slammed into the unsuspecting earth beneath it. Storm flicked her hands, bringing the temperature sharply up, warming her family almost immediately. Slumping back against Peter, she watched as everyone gathered close.
“Angel has Psylocke in the med-lab,” Jean said quickly. “She’s got a few burns, but she’ll be fine.”
“Damn thing,” Wolverine snarled. “I’m glad she ok.”
“How are you doing?” Cyclops asked of Storm when he reached her.
The X-Men leader crouched beside her, concern furrowing his brow. She was still doing her mental inventory of family, but she managed to give him a small smile.
“I will survive, I think,” she turned to give Peter a kiss on his blushing cheek.
“That was righteous!” Bobby said as he bounced up. “Damn, Storm. That was awesome. I’ve never seen cold like it…it was alive. Wow. Whoa. Dude.”
“Bobby,” Kitty said gently. “You’re rambling.”
“Sorry. Wow. Dude. Seriously. Wow.”
The assembled mutants chuckled at his expense. Ororo shook her head at him, accepting Logan’s hands to stand up. She winced, looking down at her torn shirt and battered torso.
Jean came up immediately, lifting the shredded material and touching Ororo’s tender stomach.
“You’ve probably got some bruised ribs,” she said, wiggling under Ororo’s arm to help her walk. “To the med-lab with you. I want to make sure nothing’s broken.”
“Fine,” she agreed. “Can I have some morphine?”
“If you’re a very good girl, I’ll give you a lollipop.”
“Lucky me,” Storm said with a chuckle as the two women headed back to the mansion.
~**~
“Anythin’ broken?” Logan asked as she reentered the boathouse long after dark.
“No,” she smiled at him, loving the picture he made while cooking in her kitchen. He’d even donned her “To hell with the Cook, kiss the Dishwasher” apron to protect his flannel shirt.
“Several bruised ribs, a few scrapes and a lollipop,” she reported, taking the candy from her pocket.
“Good,” he grunted. “Dinner’ll be ready in a sec, so park yer ass in a chair.”
“Sir, yes, sir.” She saluted him sassily, delighting in the annoyed glance he shot at her through the open partition separating the kitchen from the dining room.
Ororo eased into her favorite chair, wincing even through the pain medication Jean had given her. Her stomach and ribs ached to the bone, but she knew she was lucky. If that robot had squeezed even a little harder, she would have likely required surgery and months of recovery.
Logan came into the dining room a moment later, carrying plates laden with roast beef, his famous mashed potatoes and fresh green beans. Ororo, suddenly famished, gave him an appreciative look over her steaming plate.
“You will make someone an excellent wife someday,” she said, echoing his familiar praise for her.
“Only if she’ll have me,” he said cryptically.
Though she wanted to press him about the nature of his observation, he had already begun eating. Need for sustenance outweighed her want for conversation, so she dug in as well. Everything was perfect. The meat tender, juicy, and spiced with fresh thyme. Logan’s potatoes were creamy and rich, making her wonder how much of them would land on her hips.
They ate in relative silence, though on her part it was because her mind kept wandering. She glanced at the sofa a few times, wondering if the events earlier that afternoon had been nothing but a dream. She wanted to explore Logan’s heady kisses, to ask what he meant by those few, whispered comments before the intrusion.
For some reason, neither of them spoke of the battle. Perhaps it was because their personal life had suddenly been thrust into the forefront. She knew that she didn’t give a damn where that robot had come from or what it wanted. She needed to know what Logan was doing when he kissed her that way, when it had seemed he was a breath away from stripping her down and taking her on the sofa.
Just the thought of his bare skin against hers was enough to send heat flooding through her system. She desperately wanted him and part of her wondered for just how long she had denied that simple truth. Ororo knew she was good at covering things, but had she really covered her attraction to Logan so well that even she was fooled?
When they finished eating, Logan told her to head upstairs for a bath. He was obviously taking command here, and Ororo bent to his will. Leaving him to clean the mess he had made of the kitchen, she headed upstairs. When the soft sound of Johnny Cash drifted up after her, she smiled softly.
After running a hot bath, she soaked in it eagerly, letting her sore muscles and bruised flesh rest after such a trying experience. She kept her bathwater plain, skin allergies not allowing for sweet smelling salts or fluffy bubbles. She was allowed a drop or two of essential oil, so as an afterthought she added in a bit of orange.
Her bathing ritual complete, she dried off and tucked the towel in around her naked body. Getting dressed was going to be difficult, as her sore muscles made it hard to so much as bend at the waist.
Logan was in the bedroom when she came out. He smiled at her, taking his t-shirt off and tossing it into the hamper. She blushed slightly, unsure how to feel about gaping at his bare flesh when she had come so close to enjoying it so intimately.
“Gonna need help?” he asked quietly, nodding to her towel-covered body.
“Yes,” she nodded, moving toward her dresser. She removed a long t-shirt and a pair of boxers, closing her eyes when she felt Logan behind her.
His sensuous mouth placed an innocent kiss on her bare shoulder, which sent shockwaves of gooseflesh over her entire body. One hand reached up to caress the flesh of her neck as the other took her shirt from her.
“Can ya lift yer arms?”
Nodding mutely, she lifted both arms as well as she could, holding back a wince at the slight pain. He unfolded her shirt and slipped it over her head, helping her with the armholes. Once she was inside of it, he smoothed the soft material down so it covered her, towel and all.
“Lean on the dresser.” He ordered quietly, taking her boxer shorts and crouching at her feet. She watched him with slightly hooded eyes, realizing that he meant to dress her without wandering hands or seeing her naked.
Part of her was disappointed. Part of her was touched by his thoughtfulness.
He spread the waist of her boxers, allowing her to step into them without straining her battered body. When she was secure in the leg holes, he slid the article up slowly, almost teasingly so. Ororo fought the urge to grab him by the hand and toss him bodily onto the bed.
Logan slipped her shorts under the towel, managing to only just brush her flesh. That simple, innocent touch sent fire all over her. When she was covered, he reached under her shirt to untuck the knot of her towel. He pulled it away and stepped back, tossing the towel into the hamper as well.
“There,” he said in a husky voice. “All done.”
Unable to help herself, wanting to drown in those impossibly deep kisses, she took a step toward him.
“Nuh-uh,” he shook his head. “Bed, woman. Now.”
“What?” She demanded, attempting to put her hands on her hips.
“Yer hurtin’, darlin’,” Logan said, his voice betraying slight strain. “We’ll wait til yer healed up. I’ll jus’ make ya sore again.”
A sharp stab of anticipatory lust slammed through her belly, making her clutch it with one hand. That look in his eyes was familiar; one of his beast grappling with the man for control. He did want her, but the very idea that he wanted to ensure she was unharmed by his passions made her fall a little deeper.
Ororo resigned herself to fate. It wasn’t just attraction or grief or any number of things a psychologist could name for this feeling inside of her. She was falling for her best friend. He had told her his own heart earlier; that he wasn’t done falling for her. She wanted to tell him she knew the feeling, but thought it was best saved for when she was able to show him without words as well.
“You will stay with me?” She asked, taking a backward step toward the bed.
“I ain’t never leavin’, darlin’,” he replied as he continued undressing. “Best get used to it.”
~**~
When Ororo woke, the sun was high in the sky. It was not the sunlight nor lingering pain that woke her, but exploring hands. Keeping her eyes closed, she leaned into the fingers massaging one breast beneath the material of her shirt. Sighing slightly, she rocked her hips, coming in contact with a straining erection pressed against her backside.
“Ya up yet?”
His voice was low, still laden with sleep. Ororo smiled, letting her legs shift as heat began to build inside of her.
“I think you are.” She rocked her hips again, drawing a light moan from her bedmate.
“Can’t help it,” he returned, rolling a bare nipple between his fingers. “I dreamed bout ya.”
“What did you dream?” Ororo asked, turning her head slightly so he could kiss her cheek.
“Lets jus’ say it’s not somethin’ meant fer kids.”
“That sounds promising.”
His free hand drifted from her hip forward. Ororo instinctively parted her thighs, letting his curious fingers slide under the material of her shorts. He toyed with the patch of white hair at the apex of her thighs, making Ororo gasp and arch against him, begging to be touched.
“Hit me yesterday,” he continued speaking. “I’ve always though you were beautiful, hot, damn sexy. But I’ve wanted ya…more than jus’ bein’ yer friend. Yer mine, Ororo.”
A shiver zinged through the length of her spine at his words. He rarely used her full name and the way it rolled from his tongue was doing strange things to her heart.
“Am I?” she returned breathlessly.
“Yeah,” he said even more confidently as his fingers probed further. “Yer mine, an’ I ain’t lettin’ go. I want you. An’ damned if I think I’m in love with ya.”
“Oh, dear,” she whimpered as his fingers brushed her already swelling clit. “Logan…”
“Shh,” he soothed her, pressing an open mouthed kiss to her shoulder. “I’ll take care of ya, I’ll always be here, ‘Ro. Don’t try an’ tell me it’s all cause of Chuck or Magneto or any of that bullshit. You feel it too, doncha?”
Ororo whimpered again, lifting one leg to hook over his, allowing him more access to the intimate parts of her. He accepted the invitation, his hand slipping deeper to part the slick folds between her thighs.
“Say it, ‘Ro,” he pleaded. “I saw it in yer eyes last night. Now I wanna hear it.”
“I love you,” Ororo said without pause. “I want you.”
“That’s my girl,” Logan whispered, nibbling on the flesh of her neck.
His fingers moved further, one plunging into her unprepared system. She groaned loudly, her entire body alive and begging for this man’s touch. Logan kept kissing her shoulder, working his fingers inside of her while his thumb brushed over her clit. His other hand, which hand wiggled under her sometime during the night, teased her breast again.
In moments she was rocking steadily against his hands, her own clutching the pillow under her head. Heart hammering against her chest, breath caught in her throat, it was all she could do to just hang on while Logan drove her to bliss.
With soft, entreating words, he urged her on. Ororo turned her head and shouldered until she could kiss him. His fingers probed her deeply, hitting every sensitive spot they could along the way. Her moans of his name were lost in his kiss, even as she tumbled headlong into orgasm. He held on to her, keeping her anchored to reality.
“God, yer fucking gorgeous,” he growled when their lips parted. “But I hope ya didn’t like these clothes too much.”
Before she could protest, head still swimming and body throbbing, Logan released his bone claws and deftly sliced her clothing off. With a soft laugh, she lifted her hips so he could peel the remains of her shorts away.
When she was bare, she felt his hard erection against the back of her thighs. Whimpering, all but delirious from want, Ororo arched her hips back toward him.
“Its ok, darlin’,” he soothed again, taking his hand from her center and grabbing one thigh. “Lift yet leg up like this…good. I don’t want ya to move to much an’ hurt yerself.”
Ororo did as he instructed, hooking her leg over his hip. He shifted behind her, until she could feel his cock against her wet core. One of her hands flew to his hip, her nails digging into his flesh as she prepared to take him inside of her.
“Take me, Logan.”
“Fuck,” he growled, using his hand to positon himself. “Ya smell so damn good, feel so good, God, I hope this isn’t another dream.”
She smiled to herself, leaning back to wrap him in another kiss. He rocked his hips forward, entering her in one stroke. Ororo pulled her mouth from his, groaning his name so that it echoed in her quiet bedroom.
His hand left her center to grab at her hip, so that their arms were crisscrossing. He pulled back to plunge inside again, his pace somewhere between languid and frenzied. Ororo clutched at her pillow harder, turning her head to muffle her moaning. Logan’s mouth latched onto the flesh of her shoulder, suckling and licking until he had definitely left a mark.
They moved together eagerly, each trying to reach that little slice of heaven. Ororo’s hand left his hip to fist in his hair, urging him on until he was pounding inside of her. The strange position left him little room to move, but he seemed to be having no problem with it.
Filled to perfection, Ororo gasped his name in an endless chant, letting his hands and mouth and cock work some kind of ancient magic over her. She had never felt sated and wanting at the same time, not like this. She wanted more, but found her body oddly satisfied. Logan fit inside her so well, in her body and mind and heart.
She was a fool for not seeing it sooner.
All too soon, she felt her body stiffen as her peak washed over her. Crying out Logan’s name, she arched into him, overcome with pleasure. He followed not a heartbeat later, a string of unintelligible curses growled into her neck.
They remained joined, touching from head to toe, as their breathing slowed and laziness overwhelmed them. Ororo’s heart, for the first time since Logan and Magneto’s altercation, did not consume her with pain.
“Where do we go from here?” She asked without meaning to.
“Dunno,” he admitted, toying with her braids and idly stroking her face. “But I’ll be with ya.”
“That is all I needed to know.”
Satisfied, both in her heart and body, Ororo cuddled closer to Logan and slipped into a deep sleep.
