Chapter Sixteen: Smooth
And it’s just like the ocean
Under the moon
Well, it’s the same as the emotion
That I get from you
You’ve got the kinda lovin’
That can be so smooth
Give me your heart, make it real
Or else forget about it
~Rob Thomas
“According to the information we’ve uncovered since the attack yesterday, they are called Sentinels.”
Silence rang through the room with the eerie clarity of a resounding gong. The X-Men were gathered around the wide, polished table of the War Room, many of them still digesting the words from their fearless leader.
Beside him, Logan felt Ororo shift in her chair, one of those long legs brushing against his. It was playing havoc on his attention span, having her so close. Now that he knew how she felt, sounded, smelled at her most intimate of moments, he was having a real difficulty concentrating on anything else. He could have happily spent the remainder of his day getting to know more of them.
Summers had called them all in just after lunch, wanting to answer some of their questions about the enormous robotic menace that had threatened the school.
“From the computer chips Kitty got from the robot, we’ve been able to ascertain a close guess of what it is and how it operates. Kitty?”
The young girl stood from her seat beside Scooter, clearing her throat nervously. While she had a good handle on computer systems and all manner of electronics, Kitty was a shy person. Asking her to brief the entire team was a tall order. Sometimes Logan really wondered how the hell Cyclops made it through the day with so little common sense.
“Well,” the girl began with only a slight stammer. “It looks like someone has found a way to sort of scan for the X-Gene. The Sentinels are equipped with something like a metal detector, except it detects…us.”
“The theory,” Jean chimed in quickly. “Is that these robots are designed to apprehend mutants.”
“Why would someone do that?” Ororo asked, her brow furrowed with concern.
“That’s something we’re trying to figure out,” Cyclops told her in a gentle tone.
Something about that tone, the way Scooter’s eyes rested on Logan’s woman a moment too long, was bringing out his inner beast. Clearing his throat, Logan reached for ‘Ro’s hand under the table, glaring at Summers. He might have to give that dense excuse for a man another talking to.
“There are a number of reasons someone would want to detect mutants. Even the robotic voice saying mutants will be detained is some sort of clue. The mechanical creature was created to capture, not kill.”
Jean’s voice had gone flat, perking Logan’s sensitive ears. He chanced to shoot her a look, satisfied when her return gaze spoke of the same annoyance. Did Jean feel as he did? That though they each had their respective partners back, something was still between them?
The meeting continued, though Logan would never be able to tell anyone what else was said between the group of mutant fighters. His mind dwelled on the events of the past few days, hell even in the last years.
Falling for his best friend had either happened very slowly or way too fast. He couldn’t really decide which. In light of recent indiscretions on both their parts, it probably wasn’t the best idea to go jumping right in the sack…but he really couldn’t help himself.
Seeing her held up by the thing that nearly killed him, Logan’s heart had stopped in his chest. Their romantic and damn comfortable moment was shattered when the mansion’s alarms blared. He knew they had to hop to and render aid, but that wasn’t on his mind. He wanted to keep the woman he could call his own out of harm’s way. Forever.
As fate would have it, Ororo was one of two injured in that battle. Her bruised ribs would take some time to heal, but Logan knew just how much worse it could have been. Though he’d gone on to finish his job, confident that Jean, Cyclops, and Colossus would ensure she wasn’t too badly hurt, he had very nearly held his breath until she smiled at him.
A part of him was afraid that he would be reduced to that terrible, consuming fear whenever she was on a mission. It would live and grow inside of him until he either lost his mind or demanded that she give it up as well.
No. He could never ask that of her. His own personal demons aside, he knew what ‘Ro’s work meant to her. He’d no sooner ask Angel to chop his wings off.
When she’d come back from the med-lab, his relief would not show. He buttoned it up, along with his desires and did what she had always done so well. He took care of her. Where just months ago he’d been the one needing help to dress and required the comfort of her beside him as he slept; now he could provide that for her.
It probably hadn’t been a very good idea, breaking their unspoken vow to not make a move until after they were both out from under their current stresses. But he had to admit that he felt better today than in a long time. Waking with that warm body wrapped in his arms, knowing that his touch was both soothing and inflaming. That’s how it ought to be. Logan and Ororo.
As much as the words, the thought of them as a couple was fulfilling in a way that he hadn’t expected, it scared him shitless. Sleeping with any other woman “ even Jean “ didn’t have the repercussions that bedding Ororo had. She was his best friend, his closest confidante…if he ever needed to move a body, he knew he could count on her.
Screwing that up could leave him alone forever. Could he really ever find another woman that would not only put up with his “shit” but also believe it was something she loved about him?
So many questions…
He glanced at her again, noting how studiously she was paying attention to the briefing. Those huge blue eyes were trained on Scooter, one of her thin braids caught between two elegant fingers. She hadn’t bothered with makeup, so the shiner she’d received from their mechanical visitor shone right through. He’d rubbed the dark purple flesh with a tender thumb after they’d dressed, kissed it gently.
It was amazing to have that privilege. He could touch her in all those ways he’d wanted to for years without wondering if she would read into it.
Loss of adamantium, Magneto’s amnesia, Chuck’s death…he could bear it all just to touch her that way. Being her friend changed his life, turning into a lover might just save it.
“Logan.”
‘Ro’s sharp call of his name brought him swiftly from his musings. Startled by the sudden intrusion, he had to blink several times while his brain caught up.
“Yeah?”
She rolled her eyes and swatted his arm, shaking her head with that familiar and long suffering smile on her beautiful face.
“Were you paying attention at all?” She questioned as they stood to leave.
Logan involuntarily reached for her arm as she moved around her chair. A subtle wince told him her medication was wearing off. He had to get her back to the boathouse, make her rest for a while.
“Sure I was,” he said sweetly. “Scooter doesn’t know who sent those damn things or why.”
She scowled at him.
“What?” He asked, all innocence.
“You, my darling, are impossible.”
His heart tripped in his chest. “My darling” was not something anyone called him. Sure, she’d called him by many terms of endearment over the years, but there was something in the way she tacked the “my” onto it that was somehow different. Her tone was softer, her eyes a little warmer.
With his hand on her back to steady her slow steps, Logan led her from the War Room into the hall, where the other X-Men were milling about. Several of them cast curious glances to the oddly matched couple as they passed, but many simply chalked it up to the strangely close friendship the two had shared over the years.
The only ones who seemed to believe something was amiss were Scott, Jean, and Betsy.
Logan shook Bets off with a quick shake of the head, but he completely ignored the married couple still staring after him in surprise. He wouldn’t admit, even under torture, that Scott and ‘Ro’s little romp still got under his skin. Logan didn’t want One-Eye anywhere near Ororo.
“Wolverine?”
He and Ororo stopped as they reached the elevator. She nodded, carefully stepping from his embrace when he turned to face Jean. One glance at Ororo told him he was treading on thin ice. At least he knew she couldn’t physically hurt him while her ribs healed up. Lightning…was another matter altogether.
‘Ro entered the elevator once the doors opened, many of the others following her while caught up in their own conversations. Scooter was still in the War Room, so Logan was left with Jean all alone.
That wasn’t a good thing.
“How is she doing?” Jean asked coolly, weaving her arms over her chest.
“Better,” Logan grunted. “Hates takin’ meds, but she’s takin’ ‘em.”
“Hmm,” Jean hummed, her lips pulled into a taut line. “She needs to be careful over the next few days. Her ribcage was battered. Any strenuous activity could cause her more harm.”
Little warning bells sounded in Logan’s head, but as usual, he ignored them.
“What?” He baited her deliberately. “Why don’t ya just say what yer thinkin’?”
Her ruby red lips disappeared with how hard she seemed to be biting her tongue. For a moment, Logan wondered if he had pushed her a little too far. Her green eyes flashed and he could almost hear the distant caw of an ethereal bird.
“Well,” she sniffed haughtily. “Just make sure you don’t hurt her. I know how rough you can be.”
Logan’s fist made a dull ringing sound echo through the metallic corridor as he slammed it into the wall just inches from Jean’s head. He had frightened her, he could sense it in the stiffening of her posture, taste it on the air. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned closer until he could speak in a whisper.
“I told you once, Jeannie,” he rasped. “Don’t never think I’d hurt her. No one gets away with hurtin’ her, yerself included.”
“You’re scaring me,” she whimpered, looking past him as though in search of her husband.
“Good, at least ya ain’t lost all yer sense.” He replied harshly. “Stay outta my business, Mrs. Summers. Fer yer own good.”
With that, he pushed away from the wall and headed for the elevator. Maybe this time, she would get the point.
~**~
One week later…
Though his heart still ached to the point of physical pain when he dwelled too long on thoughts of Chuck, things had settled back into a sort of tepid calm. He and Ororo slipped into their new relationship with barely a hiccup, leaving their friends and family to draw their own conclusions.
It seemed almost too easy, but then being in Ororo’s life could be like that. Their friendship had begun the same way. One fine day, he just found himself eternally tethered to the woman, and he liked it that way. Now, things had continued in much the same way. There were numerous benefits, of course. Amazing sex was just one of them. Comfort was another. He felt, now, that nothing was off limits in their conversations.
That didn’t mean they ever spoke about Jean and Scott.
Logan was happy not talking about them. He noticed, with some pleasure, that ‘Ro made it her priority to never get Cyclops’ scent on her. She stood far enough away from him when talking and rarely could be found alone with him.
For his part, Logan avoided Jean like the plague. He didn’t actually want to be around her and just the scent of her seemed to turn his stomach. When he mentioned this to Hank last week, his friend theorized that part of Logan decided he was “mated” and in an animalistic sense, another “female’s” scent or close proximity was akin to unfaithfulness.
It made sense when Hank said it.
Logan looked over his shoulder at Ororo, finding her perched on the concrete barrier beside the raceway. Giving her a smirk, which earned him an air kiss from ruby-red lips, he flipped the visor of his helmet down and gunned the motor to his bike.
Cars were ‘Ro’s deal. Logan had his bikes.
A loud air horn sounded, and the yellow crotch-rocket shot away from the starting line. The kids he was racing against were left in the dust. Lowering his body to the bike, Logan leaned so close to the ground for a turn that his hair touched the pavement.
Somewhere over the screaming crowd, he heard Ororo whistle. Smirking to himself, he dipped into another turn. After circling the roundabout, he shot like a bullet toward her voice. Adrenaline pumped through his veins and he knew Ororo was in for some serious mattress dancing when they were done here.
Gravel and dust kicked up as he skidded through the finish line. His helmet was off a heartbeat later, expecting the warm, sinuous body that appeared scant seconds later. She slid onto the bike in front of him, kissing the race winner amid hooting calls and male encouragement.
Tonight was his first race since the incident with Magneto. His balance was returning, albeit slowly. ‘Ro had told him, without a doubt that she was deadly serious, that if she so much as saw the bike wobble, she’d fry him from the inside out.
He was still intent on her lips, keeping them both steady on the bike, when their moment was stolen away.
“Logan! Ororo!”
Storm pulled away from him as though something had bit her. The bike trembled dangerously as both mutants occupying the seat turned at the call of their names. A willowy red head and her ruby-gazed husband were pushing through the crowd.
In their pajamas.
Logan snorted, hiding it in Ororo’s hair. She patted his back soothingly, though he could tell she was holding in laughter by force.
“What are you two doing here? How did you find us?” The white haired mutant demanded when they reached them.
“Jean scanned for you,” Cyclops said immediately. “Sorry, but we need your help.”
Looking to the woman so sinfully occupying his lap, he raised a brow. Their secret was out now. ‘Ro shrugged, seemingly as confused as he was. She slowly, with teasing promises that he would definitely have her naked later, she slid from the bike seat.
Scott’s jaw twitched, his gaze following Storm carefully. Logan fixed him with a glare.
“Watch yer eyes, boy,” he growled for only the two of them to hear.
Cyclops looked away.
“There’s another sentinel, just a few blocks over,” Jean was explaining to Storm. “It hit a homeless youth center. When the kids ran, it started chasing them.”
“Can’t take it down ourselves,” Logan mused. He noticed Cyclops had vanished from the immediate area and looked around for him.
In his Smurf pajama pants and a plain white tee-shirt, the man was crouched beside a motorcycle that belonged to Lazy E. The black racer was laughing, nodding his head while One-Eye nearly went orgasmic over the shiny machine.
By the time he looked back to Storm, she was frowning.
“Logan?” At her call, he hopped off of the bike.
“Yeah?”
“We have to get this thing out of there. Jean is contacting the others, but I have an idea.”
Already knowing what was on her mind, he nodded. “I’ll take the bike. Bait an’ switch?”
She gave him a brilliant smile that made his heart flip-flop. “Yes. Scott?”
The other mutant pulled himself away from the bike he’d been admiring at the sound of his name. Logan chuckled inwardly at the slightly euphoric look on his face. If Storm and Wolverine were not careful, they would wind up with a partner in the racing business.
“Can you ride that?” She pointed one finger to the bike he’d been drooling over.
“Yeah. Definitely. Why?”
Storm’s grin went even wider. “Tell E I said you can borrow it. We’re going to distract the Sentinel so we can lead him to the rest of the team just outside the city.”
“What about Jean?” Scott asked, glancing at his glassy eyed wife.
“I will take care of her. Just stay with Logan and do as he says.”
With that, she turned fully to Logan. He smirked with deliberate sensuality a beat before she pulled him up for a kiss. Only letting himself sink into the sweet taste and heady scent of her for a moment, he nipped at her lips.
“Be careful,” she ordered sternly.
“You, too, baby.”
When they broke apart, he watched her lead Jean toward her Mazda. E came over with the bike’s keys, telling Scott that if he treated the “girl” right, she’d purr for him. Cracking up as that borderline orgasmic look came over Cyclops’ face again, Logan shook his head.
“Come on, boy, lets go have some fun.”
~**~
They pulled to a stop on a wide overpass, two black bikes waiting for the moment to rev into gear. Logan glanced through his visor at Cyclops, whom gripped the handlebars eagerly. After carefully sketching the plan out for him, they’d driven to the meeting spot at high speeds and completely daredevil maneuvers.
Cyclops now knew that bike as intimately as he knew his wife’s body.
Logan braced himself. This wasn’t going to be a fly-by-the-pants operation. The other X-Men were on their way, but they had to successfully get the Sentinel away from innocent civilians before someone got hurt.
“Where are they?” Cyclops said worriedly into the speaker of his helmet.
“She’ll be here. One thing ‘Ro knows how to do is drive.”
As if on some preordained cue, Logan heard the faint hint of music. A beat later, tires squealed. His eyes were glued to the road just below, where Storm and her Mazda should appear in seconds.
Amid the bouncing beat to what he identified as the Black Eyed Peas’ “Pump It” blasting from the sound system, Ororo’s car took a turn at, the very minimum, sixty miles per hour.
The engine of his bike revved as though in answer. He spotted her determined face, both hands expertly on the wheel as she shot beneath the overpass. Logan almost laughed out loud at Jean’s scream, at the four police cars chasing the white racecar.
Cyclops and Wolverine leaped into action. The tires of their bikes screamed against the blacktop as they turned. As a single unit, they parted to race down the exit and entrance of the overpass, easily taking position beside Ororo’s speeding Mazda.
When Logan was directly alongside her, she glanced out her window and beamed at him. Though she could not see his face, he grinned right back.
The Sentinel was flying. That was something new for Logan. It was behind the army of police cars, heedless to the whine of sirens and flashing lights. Logan fell back several meters, with Cyclops mirroring his every move.
The expected whizzing sound of the monster’s tentacle made them both sharply turn the bikes. They raced toward one another at dizzying speeds, catching the attention of the Sentinel with little problem.
Ororo’s Mazda squealed its breaks as she drifted around another corner. Cyclops popped the front wheel of his bike up, swinging it around so that the back tire batted the tentacle away.
Both drivers were out of range again in an instant. Following their “white rabbit”, they chased Ororo down the packed street.
“Fuck.”
“Logan, follow my lead!”
Shocked at Cyclops’ suggestion, keeping one eye on their rabbit, he watched as Cyclops jumped the curb. He easily, almost poetically dodged civilians, leaving Wolverine an easy path to follow. More police cars appeared, but Logan ignored them, surprised by the agility Cyclops had on E’s bike.
Ororo shot past them on the street a moment later, drifting sinuously through the traffic. The perusing police scattered like cockroaches. Logan’s heart almost stopped when he noted, via his rear view mirror, that Storm drove directly beneath the Sentinel.
It turned instantly, following as she screamed around another corner.
“Lets get the police!”
Grunting his agreement with Cyclops, trusting Storm to take care of herself and Jean, he followed Cyclops off of the curb. They danced between semi-motionless cars, taunting the police with their precision driving.
“Come on, you idiots. Take the bait.”
Logan grinned at Cyclops’ words. He easily popped up on his back tire, skidding past a police car as he did so. His visor flew up, allowing the female driver to gape at him. He winked at her. She scowled dangerously.
A beat later, every cop in twenty city blocks was on Logan and Cyclops. They wove together, so close Logan could almost smell Cyclops’ exhilaration, only to part again. The police were desperately trying to pursue, their clunky vehicles no match for the agile bikes.
It didn’t help that as they reached an intersection, Storm whipped past with the Sentinel hot on her heels.
Without even conferring with one another, Cyclops and Wolverine slammed on their brakes. In the center of the intersection, they turned as one to follow the white Mazda. Logan could hear Ororo laughing as she pulled her emergency brake to drift around a sharp corner.
He winced when the Sentinel tried to follow the near ninety-degree angle, succeeding in taking the street light and a building corner with him. There would be hell to pay for that little issue.
Storm was in rare form. He watched her maneuver that tiny car through impossible spaces between cars. She was almost to the meeting spot, where the remaining X-Men would be waiting. Logan would be happy to get out of this without going to jail.
The Sentinel was above them, the wail of police sirens telling him they were catching up. Cyclops darted in front of him, sharply turning as though to lure the police away again. Logan went the opposite direction, flying through an alley as though it were a walk in the park.
He popped out directly in front of Ororo’s car. Jean screamed again. But Ororo merely smiled as they narrowly, expertly shifted to avoid a collision. He jumped the curb again, effortlessly forcing civilians back into buildings from sheer fright. This cul-de-sac was about to be the scene of Mutant-Robot Smack Down, they needed to get out of the way.
Ororo’s car kicked up clouds of acrid smoke from burning tires as she drifted easily and controlled through the roundabout. She did this twice at high speeds, preventing any other vehicle from entering the area. Logan heard Cyclops coming up on the opposite side of the street, mirroring his quest to get innocents out of the way.
Then, the X-Men showed up.
Rogue flew directly at their foe. Storm’s car stopped and the two mutants inside leapt into the air, one wreathed in flame, the other held aloft by wind. Pulling his bike to a halt, Logan hopped off of it and charged into the building battle as the Sentinel swatted at Rogue.
They had this dance down to a science now. The robotic menace fell before the combined might of powerful mutants, crashing to the ground with a resounding and metallic crash.
The cheer that went up from the watching crowds nearly deafened him.
Battle won, Logan sought out Storm the second she landed gracefully beside her battered Mazda. Cyclops and Jean joined them, with the younger mutants coming up from behind.
“Where did you learn to drive like that?” Logan asked of Cyclops.
“She taught me,” he pointed to Storm with an easy smile. “Duh.”
Storm was grinning from ear to ear. “I knew my patience guidance would sink in eventually.”
“Wasn’t half bad, he’s got potential yet,” Logan teased as she wrapped his lover into his embrace.
She hummed happily. “He could clean up at the bike races. Tandem even, with you on the other rocket.”
Suddenly, Jean stepped between them all. Her face bore a slightly green color, her hair wild and tangled, hands on her hips.
“You are all INSANE!” she screeched. “I’ve never been more terrified in my life.”
“What?” Wolverine couldn’t resist. “Ya didn’t trust Storm?”
“It isn’t about trust! That was entirely unsafe and we could have hurt people! And the COPS were chasing us!”
Cyclops went to his obviously frazzled wife and pulled her into his arms. Logan could see the man wanted to throttle her, likely for ruining the speed-high, but he was tender all the same. Ororo was chuckling into Logan’s shirt.
“We’re all precision drivers,” he explained in a low tone. “We didn’t let anyone get hurt.”
Before Jean could rebut, Iceman tapped Cyclops on the shoulder.
“Um, speaking of cops…”
The four mutants turned in time to see several police officers approaching.
“You four!” the elder one said, hand on his weapon. “Hands up. You’re under arrest.”
As one, Cyclops, Storm, and Wolverine sighed. “Oh, shit.”
