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07. Action-Reaction

Summary: An interlude or a second part of the previous chapter, you decide. Things go both happy-happy and sad-happy in this one.
Then,

“Hmm-umm-hmmmm-….”

“Whatcha doin’?” There was a bemused humor in his growl.
“Nothing.” The response was just as light a clear indication of the relaxed state of the duo. It was even necessary to actually see them to know that these two were making the most of the few stolen moments of peace they managed to snatch after the seemingly never-ending running of the past few days.

“Nothin’?” Lying flat on the motel bed, Logan arched to stretch and crack the kinks in his back and neck. “Then why do I-…shit,” his eyes bugged out of their sockets.

“You like it?” She asked while holding up her ‘accomplishment’ for inspection.

He stared at her doing, then at her…then at it…at her…at it…at….

“What the fuck is this?” He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“What?!” Her arching eyebrow was an eerie reflection to his. “I was getting bored and…”

“Bored? Bored!” She was getting what! “You were bored, eh and then what…decided to go all girly all me? Shit ‘Ro,” he cursed flexing his hand to draw it back in.

“No! Don’t.” She firmed her grip at his thick wrist. “Not yet…let it dry first,” and to emphasize her point, she blew gently on the aforementioned ‘doing’.

Still under shock as to how she managed to do without him knowing about in the first place, Logan stared dumbly at his companion. “You high or something? Puttin’ that shit on me.”

“Its not on you,” the snow haired Ororo protested. “Well, not exactly. I mean it is on you, but it's only one claw. It’s not like I put anything on your face. Besides, its not shi…poop, it’s nail-polish, and the best there is.” She waved the two bottles she had used to beautify the front quarter of a single bone claw, taking great pains to use the natural ridges and curves to make a rather interesting design.

“It looks soooo beautiful,” Logan frowned as the witch crooned and crawled up to straddle his midsection, giggling at the ‘oomph’ that escaped from his throat at the sudden weight. “See,” she lifted it and placed it against her chest, placing her own smaller hand beside it, her own fingernails eerily similar to his bony claw…only much smaller.

More shocked than angry, Logan found himself dragged in a completely different direction at her actions. Already precariously close to his personal ‘launching pad’, the gentle but insistent and completely natural way Ororo settled down to grind over him, was quickly reading him for take-off. Right under where his hand rested, even through the fabric barrier, he could feel the heat radiating off her smooth supple skin, the appreciable curve of her breasts, the rhythmic thumping of her heart…it was becoming very difficult to think of anything except her…let alone maintain a semblance of annoyance.

“Lo-OWW!” Ororo yelped as almost of its own volition, the large hand closed around one breast, its fingers spreading out over the round expanse. That there was one razor sharp claw not even an inch from her skin did not scare her in the least. She knew that he wouldn’t ever hurt her…she trusted him for that.

‘Well, except for…’ she smiled at the memory of the previous night, reminded once again by the dull ache that was still making her feel rather.

“Yer a crazy broad you know that,” another tight squeeze and Logan let go, drawing his clawed hand away from her, but bringing the other one to gently rub one bare thigh, his thumb sliding along its inner curve along her milky smooth skin…the smoothness all thanks to the killer power of Nair. He had literally whooped from joy when they finally reached a place where she’d been able to get it. Whooped because he did not want to chance her making good on her threat that of using his claws to shave her legs…or worse, his shaving-blade.

‘Usin’ a man’s blade!’ He had been scandalized at the mere mention of it. ‘There ought to be a law against that. Even I’d support that one.’

“Crazy…Broad?” Dressed in nothing but a trademark redneck red-and-green checked flannel shirt, her long flowing hair falling in disheveled curves, Ororo narrowed her eyes at him. “You trying to tell me something?” Her mimicked growl was a near exact match of his. “You calling me fat, bub?” She added, stressing on the last word, mainly because of her dislike of it and her personal mission that she would get him to stop using it.

Knowing that it was more a tease than a real question, Logan let his caressing hand slide over along the outer smoothness of one thigh curving along the roundness of her hips.

“Nah darlin’,” he jerked her closer, close enough so that their breaths mingled with each others. “Yer not fat…yer…” he trailed the backside of his fingers along the smooth contours of her jaw. “…just…”

“What?” Ororo gulped - hard.

“Just…crazy.”

The change of expression on Ororo’s face was one that Logan would remember for eternity, if only because of the way it reversed going from a the flushed look of rising arousal to dumb surprise to finally the frown of just having been had.

WHACK!

“Hey!”

WHACK! “Crazy!!” KAPOW! “I’m crazy, huh?”

“Hey!” Logan mock yelped as a solid fist replaced the chest-slaps. It didn’t hurt as much as amused him seeing her like this.

“Maybe I am crazy,” Thump!! Ororo smacked at one broad shoulder. “Why else would I hang with Mr. Grump-Supreme?” She quipped. “I can’t think of even one good reason.”

Ever the tactician, Logan Quick-Draw McGraw-ed his answer. “Sex babe.”

“Wha-?” Ororo balked, her already rosy cheeks coloring even more. Ever since she had first shared a bed with Logan, her first and until now only man, even though Ororo had grown comfortable with her sexuality, there was still an inner shyness within her - one that even after all this time Logan still found a way to draw out, much to her (current) chagrin and to his chest puffing amusement.

“Sex?” Ororo crossed her arms at her chest, and turned her nose up. “Sex is nothing. Nothing I tell you. That I can get anywhere, anytime, from anyo…”

“NO!” Her quip stopped at the sudden snarl from the man under her, as well as the possessive fire that lit up in his eyes. “No one else. No. One.”

‘Got you,’ the weather vixen smiled internally. Seeing him like this, the way he reacted at the mere thought of her with anyone else, Ororo could almost believe that it wasn’t just mere convenience that kept them together. At first it might have been - but not anymore. There was something more, something deeper…much deeper, something that she so much wanted to give a name to.

“No one.” She whispered softly, her gaze both proclaiming and pleading, her hands lowering to caress just above his heart.

“No one.” Logan growled…almost purred back at her. “No one…ever.”

‘Ever.’

---

Now,

For Scott Summers, that he was still alive was something that he could not believe. The last thing he remembered was three razor sharp claws closing in to plunge into his face. There was also something else, something he wasn’t even sure that he had even heard…the Professor’s voice in his head.

Moreover, had it not been for the pain shooting throughout his body even more so on his face, Scott would have sworn that he was dead, for there was no way that the afterlife pained this bad…not even Hell.

His eyes fluttering behind their lids, he forced them open, only to have them fly wide open at the sight before him…his reaction coming nary a second later.

--

//Flashback//

**Professor!** Jean exclaimed mentally at what Charles had just conveyed to her. **What do you mean we just let him pass? He has Scott.**

**I know that Jean,** Xavier’s tone was as calm as ever. **And I have a plan to get Scott away. However, to do that, all of you will have to step back and let Wolverine come to you.**

**Bu-…No.** The memory of the flood of emotions from the Base still fresh in her mind, the rage coming from Wolverine clawing at it, Jean shook her head even as her two teammates, Gambit and Beast stopped mid-step. As with her, they too got the projection of Xavier’s plan to both save Scott and to get Wolverine to the infirmary.

**Jean,** this time Charles’s thoughts were only to the redhead. **Trust me. Scott’s life is not danger…not if we give Wolverine what he wants.**

**What he wants?** Jean’s brow twisted in a frown. **What do you-** She started, only to stop as Beast yanked her into an empty room. Even if his two teammates hadn’t heard, Hank with his enhanced hearing had heard the ping of the elevator. There was no time to waste in deliberation. Whether Jean liked it or not, it was Charles’s move now. It was that or a direct confrontation with Wolverine, one that could leas to him doing even more harm to Scott…maybe even fatal.


Time seemed to stand still, as making his way along the metal corridors, Wolverine inched forward…her scent acting like a rope that had lassoed him. In fact, it was the prospect of seeing her that was keeping him from losing it completely, especially in these surroundings, the metallic underground setting raising the hair on his back.

With his attention completely on tracking her and already pulling an unconscious Scott with him, it took him a while to detect the other X-Men, especially Jean. However, it was not they who would attack him…that blame would go to a man he had not even met yet.

Ten feet from the door behind which the three X-Men stood waiting, Xavier made his move, and with a snarled groan Wolverine tumbled to the floor, his hostage falling free from his hands.

**Jean NOW!** Charles did not know how long it would be before Wolverine recovered, for even though his ‘psychic blast’ had been strong enough to take down a grown man, the feral mutant’ss telepathic barriers were quite formidable themselves...with the primal rage that with each passing second just seemed to grow, making things all the more difficult.

Even as Xavier’s hail came across to her, Jean and her teammates were already in action. First was Jean. Using her telekinetic abilities not only did she draw Scott away from his captor and towards her, she also applied an equal repulsive force on the snarling Wolverine.

Next was Gambit and moving as if in a relay race, he grabbed Scott and headed back towards the way they had come from, Jean flanking him. That left Henry to bring up the rear and although he too wasn’t going to confront the stranger, he was going to delay him. For that he would have to stay back to engage the manual locks of the five one-foot thick metal doors that lay between Wolverine’s current location and where (if the need arose) the X-Men were going to make their stand, the Infirmary.


However, none of those fears came to fruition for even though by the time he toe through the barriers and arrived at the infirmary, Wolverine was bordering on going berserk, all of his rage seemed to drain away at just whisper.

“L-Logan?!”

//End Flashback//

---

Time stood still, not only for the couple staring at each other but also for their gathering observing them. With Kitty and Jubilee huddled together, Jean cradling an unconscious Scott and Henry doing his best to contain Gambit from going off and attacking Wolverine, Xavier was the only one free enough and calm enough to pay attention to every single detail of the meeting taking place before them.

‘Logan.’ Ororo struggled with herself only to have her choked throat give up on her. He was here, finally after years of waiting, a lifetime of tears and longing, he was here.

As for Logan, had it not been for her scent filling his senses he wouldn’t have believed what was before him. His captors had played with his mind, driving him to the brink of insanity repeatedly, but they had never managed to trick his animal senses, never his sense of smell. Those were as sharp as ever and had never let him down. Now…now there she was and along with being able to see her, he could smell her natural fresh rain and a tinge of the earthy smell that could be only hers. Heck, the overlaying sandalwood and vanilla odors were an easy give of her choice of soap and shampoo. There were some subtle changes, but they were only because their…her maturing in age, none of them enough to hide or falsify that it was truly her.

-SNIKT-

The claws shot back in, and it was only then that Ororo’s eyes snapped to Logan’s hands, not only because of what Jubilee and Kitty had told her about the claws but also because the sound that came from their sliding in was different from the one she remembered.

“’Rrrr….” His torn green hospital gown barely hanging to his frame, the hulking Wolverine started towards the bed, towards the vision that had haunted him, all while forcing himself to form a comprehensible ‘human’ sound…that of her name. “’Rrro…”

Not trusting herself to respond vocally, Ororo numbly nodded in return and started to lift her arms to him…

…only to have a blast of red energy tear through him, sending him into flying into the far-side wall.

--

“NNNOOOOO…”

Lying half-prone on his back, Scott Summers gulped at the reaction his ‘saving’ move garnered…

KRRAKKA-BOOM!!

…instant ‘Indoor’ lightning show.

“Oh Shit!”

Note: Had planned to take this chapter further but the slump I have been experiencing for these past few weeks led me to wrap it up sooner, into a sort of ‘interlude’ before everything comes into the open.

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