"That looks like it hurts."
"Good guess. It does," Ororo groused through her puffy bottom lip, poking it in the mirror.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine. Amara's a grade-A cooch, but yeah, I'm fine." Jean giggled.
"Wish I'd heard her thoughts early enough to tell you to duck." Jean fiddled with some of the tiny articles of jewelry and accessories on Ororo's dresser, spritzing on some of her Vanilla Fields cologne.
"You HEARD her about to kick my butt?"
"Not in so many words," Jean cringed.
"Thanks for nothing."
"Any time," she deadpanned. "So what're you gonna do?"
"Plot her death and how to make it look like an accident."
"Won't help. Professor Xavier might not like that. Don't figure Amara's dad, would, either. Wasn't he a senator or something, and didn't he used to be a soldier?"
"Hmmph."
"Well, there you go." Jean took Ororo's sagging shoulders to mean she agreed with her, but still wasn't happy about it. "Ororo?"
"Yeah?"
"What did Logan tell you earlier today?"
"What do you mean, what did he tell me? Not much of anything," she huffed, hugging her Hello Kitty throw pillow to her chest. "He's just a big jerky football player, and he just happened to pass by after she got the jump on me."
"Looked pretty concerned," Jean grinned. "Didn't look bad in his jersey, either."
"Shut UP!" Ororo chucked the pillow at Jean, but not before she used her teke to deflect it.
"Ororo and Logan, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I..."
"Don't you dare finish that," Ororo warned.
"...N-G! First comes love, then comes..."
"I'm warning you!" Ororo had already leapt off the bed, chasing Jean with the discarded pillow raised over her head.
"MARRIAGE, then comes Ororo with a BABY CARRIAGE!" Jean was dodging Ororo and giggling the whole time, her side aching from laughing at her best friend's expense.
KRAKA-THHOOOOOMMMM...
"Better calm down, you, look at the sky!"
"Quit stalling, I owe you a major butt-kicking!"
Overhead, Logan listened to the thump of footsteps echoing through the floor of Ororo's loft from his bedroom on the second floor. Ororo always seemed pretty serious, he mused to himself, but get her and Jeannie together, and all they did was whisper back and forth and share that look like they were communicating with Jeannie's telepathy. Logan was just wondering what was going on in Ororo's head.
He felt like a chump. His senses had gone off the chart, smelling the predatory tang of Amara's scent just seconds before she got the jump on Ororo and lunged for her at her locker. He'd never quite trusted Amara; she seemed awfully spoiled. Guthrie spent so much time trying to show off for her that he sometimes forgot himself, like the time he flew into the titanium wall of the Danger Room during a workout instead of through the hoops while he was on a slalom course. He'd gotten distracted by Amara showing off her new uniform with its short skirt. Logan, in hindsight, kinda couldn't blame him, but she just wasn't his cup of tea.
The thought occurred to him that his cup of tea, lately, was more of a tall drink of water. Tall, slender, blue-eyed, and with downy waves of white hair tumbling down her back.
The look she'd given him when he asked if she was okay bothered him. She'd lumped him into the same little category as Amara, and he wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve it.
Well, bub, maybe it's time to find out...
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