Chapter Ten: Leviathan
“There’s the snap! Blaire falls back, narrowly avoids a tackle from Guthrie. She’s moving back, farther, farther. Looking for an opening. LONG pass to PRYDE! Beautiful catch! Ladies and gents, she could…go…all…the…way! SCORE!”
Ali stopped her narration and threw her hands up as Kitty landed in a heap with Bobby, whom had been attempting to tackle the young brunette. With a whoop of glee that seemed impossibly loud in the perfect spring morning, Ali pumped her knees together in an odd touchdown dance that looked more like the Funky Chicken.
Good-natured grumbling sounded from the other team, but Ali’s “Packers” patently ignored it. Leech gave Ali a cheerful high five, which made her rub his bald head in a familiar manner. Though she had only been at the mansion two days, it already felt like home. She couldn’t imagine wanting to leave.
That should have scared her shitless.
As the teams lined up again, Ali caught sight of a colossal Russian watching from the sidelines. She tossed him a grin from beneath that light-absorbing black under her eyes. He raised a massive hand in greeting, a smile curving his lips almost instantly.
Damn. He was adorable.
“Blue 52,” Bobby called loudly as Ali dragged her eyes from tall, dark, and holyshitBatman. “Blue 52…set…HUT! HUT!”
The opposing quarterback snapped the ball and Ali darted forward. Her athletic body easily avoided clumsy Guthrie again as she moved toward the smirking Iceman. He was a cocky little bastard, she thought wanting to knock that strut out of his step.
She leapt over Artie, using his back as a step to throw her body at the All American Drake. He landed on his backside with a muffled grunt, the ball bouncing out of his hands. Leech was on top of it in an instant, recovering the ball from the “Giants”.
Ali kissed Bobby noisily on the cheek. “Sorry, Iceboy.”
“Well, it got you on top of me.” He shot back with a teasing smile.
“Perv.”
She scrambled off of his lap, holding a hand out to help him stand. The teams called a quick time out, rushing to the table Beast had set up for them. There were snacks and a huge container of Gatorade for the taking. Ali jogged toward the assembled mutant teens with Bobby, laughing when he rolled his shoulder, claiming she had dislocated it.
Ali snagged a Bagel Bite and gratefully took the Gatorade Kitty handed her. She moved off to the side to avoid death by hungry teen, standing with her friend in the warm morning sunlight. She couldn’t remember ever having so much fun, at least during the day and without being chased by the cops.
When Kitty had suggested a Saturday football game Ali was immediately interested. She loved to play or basically do anything that involved getting hot and sweaty.
She glanced at Piotr, surprised to find he had been staring at her. He looked away quickly, nodding at something Bobby was telling him. Ali looked down at her clothing, wondering if he was staring because of the grass stains on her too short cut offs or the enormous Green Bay “G” on her too-large jersey.
“I wish Pete would play,” Kitty said with a sigh.
“Why doesn’t he? If we bully Angel to join in, we’d be all set.” Ali finished her Bagel Bite and swallowed the last of her Gatorade.
“He’s afraid he’ll hurt someone,” the other girl replied. “He always watches though, it’s kinda sad, actually.”
“Huh,” Ali grunted, glancing at the Russian again catching his gaze once more. She tossed her cup into the trashcan Beast had provided.
“Ali?” Kitty asked as the girl remained silent.
“He’s too cute to sit on the damn sidelines. Go get Halo.” Ali tossed over her shoulder, jogging over to Piotr and Bobby.
“Oh, brother,” Kitty muttered as she obediently went inside to fetch Warren.
Piotr’s eyebrows went up as Ali approached, muddy sneakers and all. She winked at Bobby, poking Pete in the shoulder to ensure she had his undivided attention. His intense gaze met hers, the corners of his eyes crinkling in something like a quiet smile. Ali felt her stomach swoop again, her knees threatening to knock together.
“Come play with me,” Ali said, deliberately teasing. Bobby choked on his Gatorade.
“I cannot join you,” Piotr said gently.
“Bullshit,” Ali shot back with a mischievous wink. “Are you afraid of a girl?”
One of his hands came up, his fingers splaying over open air. Ali licked her lips without thinking about it, wondering how his hands would feel on her skin. She needed to take care of herself before she jumped the poor boy.
“My strength could hurt someone,” he continued as she looked from his hand to his eyes.
“Uh-huh,” she turned over her shoulder. “Yo! Jimmy!”
The bald boy rushed over, his grin infectious. Ali threw her arm around the young mutant companionably. She raised her free hand, staring at it for a moment before meeting Piotr’s eyes without flinching.
“Because of Baldie here, we don’t have powers.”
Without so much as a warning, Ali jumped on Piotr, easily flattening him to the grass. He grunted at the impact, his hands immediately grasping her hips as though to steady her. Sprawled over him, Ali grinned in triumph.
“Dazzler!” He said with shock written clearly on his face.
“See?” She replied cheekily, swatting his chest lightly. “If you were Colossus right now, no way I coulda done that. Get on your feet and come bask in the love of the pigskin.”
Something that could have been hope sprang into Piotr’s eyes. Ali shifted on his wide hips, trying to stand and having a hard time finding her balance while tangled with Piotr’s heavy body. She saw him grit his teeth and couldn’t help but wiggle her backside experimentally.
Oh, she mused at his sharp intake of breath. So, he is human.
Unable to resist, she leaned down to whisper into his ear, rewarded when Piotr’s hands tightened on her hips.
“Huh,” she whispered huskily. “You look good on your back, Petey.”
When his eyes widened in surprise, she found her feet and jumped up. Angel had joined the others, many of them watching her in shock. Ali gave them all an unconcerned toss of her head, her long, blonde ponytail flying.
“I call Angel!”
“Right on,” Bobby whooped with joy. “I’ve got Tin-Man.”
Piotr stood, brushing his jeans off as Ali took the ball from Jimmy. She could feel his gaze on her back, but chose to ignore it. Swallowing hard as the teams lined up, Ali noted that Piotr was looking around with something akin to wonder. Her heart ached at the expression, wondering how long he had kept himself apart from his companions.
No more, she decided. She’d been in his shoes, keeping everything close to the vest, never letting anyone close. All it did was make the lonesomeness inside swell and ache until it was damn near unbearable. She’d been that poor boy.
Giving him a wink, she crouched behind Jimmy. “Gonna run with the big boys, Mother Russia?”
He gave her a full on grin that made her heart skip. “Bring it on, Yankee.”
“Green 45! Hut, hut, HUT!”
~**~
She was so damned cute. Piotr sighed, running a hand over his face late that evening. He couldn’t get the football game out of his head; flashbacks of a morning and afternoon spent being an eighteen-year-old boy haunted him during the graveyard security shift.
Alison’s laughter rang in his head, making his hands clench at the memory. She’d tackled him. He grinned briefly at the image. He couldn’t believe anyone had to audacity to spear tackle Colossus. Most of the young people gave him wide berth, knowing he could inadvertently harm them.
Dazzler had absolutely no fear. Her eyes and smile were always unguarded, friendly, vibrant. He could easily forget all about everything when she gave him that silly, saucy smirk. Her teasing words and “ Jesus “ athletic body almost made him quiver. He shuddered just remembering how she’d felt sprawled atop him.
Sighing, he shook his head, concentrating on the screens in front of him. There was a glitch in one of the cameras on the grounds, so he typed quickly to realign it as Katya had taught him.
He caught a glimpse of blonde hair in one of the mansion’s cameras and double taked. Staring in shock as Alison crept toward the kitchen, he gulped heavily. She was so damn pretty. Her thin cotton tank molded small, pert breasts; her belly bare due to the pants that rested on slender hips.
Touching the screen, Piotr chided himself. He wouldn’t be around long enough to truly know her, no matter how she pursued him. Oh yes, Piotr knew when he was being chased. Ali was a skilled hunter; she stalked her prey with skill and grace. The young mutant wasn’t sure how long he could outrun her.
He watched as she detoured from the kitchen, her head tilting as though she were listening for something. Piotr cursed in his native tongue, reaching over to turn the knob on his stereo. He’d borrowed the disc from Kitty, enjoying the melodic wail of Dazzler’s voice and the pain in her lyrics.
Unfortunately, she’d discovered where the music was coming from. Piotr pulled himself together as much as he could before the door popped open. He took several calming breaths as the girl entered, her music playing softly as he tried to focus on the screens.
Did she have to smell so good? How was that fair?
“Petey,” she greeted with a wave. “I thought I heard someone in here.”
“Dazzler,” he grunted, glancing at her reflection in one of the larger screens. “Did I wake you?”
“Nuh-uh,” she said, coming to his side. She hopped up onto the countertop, her plump back end bumping his coffee cup. “That’s my CD. Damn, I love this song.”
Before he could stop her, she reached over to turn the music up. He should shoo her out of the room, send her to bed. But he didn’t want to. She was comforting for some reason. Piotr watched her out of the corner of his eye.
“I don’t know how to tell you, I’m in love with you. I don’t want to turn away, cause I’m so into you. I can’t take this pain anymore, I don’t wanna cry. Baby, when you walk away, I swear I’m gonna die.
She was singing with the stereo, her voice matching the electronic recording perfectly. Piotr gulped when she grinned at him.
“You wrote it?”
“Yep,” she shrugged. “Another ode to my mystery man.”
Amused, Piotr arched a dark brow. “Mystery man?”
Alison swung her legs, humming to the music. “You think I’ve ever been in love like that? Nah. When I write those songs, it’s for someone I haven’t met yet.”
“Yet?”
She looked at him fully, her emerald eyes holding his without remorse or apology.
“Well, I want to find that kind of love. Just have to be patient, I guess.”
“You are very optimistic.” Piotr observed with longing.
“You’re very moody,” she teased. “Don’t you have any hope? You’re young, good-looking, and can toss a football over sixty yards. Have some faith.”
Piotr looked away, typing into the computer bank to correct another glitch. Hope? What was that? He’d been shunned for his status as a mutant, injured those he cared for, left his homeland to come to this school for mutants. Even his friends were afraid of him at times.
Things like falling in love were to remain dreams. What should it matter? He would be dead before the end of the week.
“Petey?” He heard her shift, but refused to turn.
“Peter.”
She was off the counter now, standing by his chair. Piotr felt her hand on his chair and was helpless to stop her from turning him around. He met her gaze briefly, not trusting himself to hold those beautiful green eyes that darkened to a pure jade.
Without asking, she pushed his shoulders until he sat back in his chair. Fear nipped at him, mixed with the flickering of desire as she sinuously climbed onto his lap. His hands gripped the arms of his chair, trying to hold back from touching her.
Alison wrapped her warm hands around his neck, shifting so she could plant her knees on what little space remained between his thigh and the chair arm. Jesus, she was…sexy. There was no other word for her uncompromising confidence. As she settled, Piotr met her eyes, swallowing hard.
“You’re so damn cute,” she muttered, echoing his internal thoughts without knowing it.
“Dazzler…” He needed her to go. Now.
“Hey, it’s Ali. Dazzler is the impersonal codename you use to keep me away,” she whispered, leaning closer until he could feel her breath against his lips. “Doesn’t work with me, comrade. If I want you, I’ll get you.”
He was shaking. Damn, but she was appealing. He wanted to dive into her and see if she was as warm and open all over. The urge terrified him. A doomed man had no right to take a step toward a woman’s heart. He would only hurt her.
“Alison,” he nearly pled. “You should…”
“Oh, shut up, Pete.”
Her lips were on his and, by God, it felt wonderful. Piotr’s hands came up from the arms of the chair, smoothing up her back. Her tank slid up, allowing him to flatten his palms against her silken flesh.
He parted his mouth when her tongue slid out to caress his bottom lip. She groaned into his mouth, melting into his arms. Her breasts pressed into his chest and that flicker of desire was fanned into flame. Piotr pulled her closer, making her whimper. His ravished her mouth, giving into the pull. Ali thrust her hands into his hair, holding him in place.
Her hips rocked and Piotr felt all of the blood in his body shoot to his groin. Piotr memorized her taste, sweet and satiny like a fine vodka. He could take that with him, if nothing else. He wanted to map her completely in his mind, remember what it felt like to hold a woman. The last time he had tried…
Alison wiggled again, shifting on his lap. Piotr took a shuddering breath when she pulled away to breathe. She gave him no chance to recover, to think, before she claimed him again. It would be so easy to give in completely, to take her in this chair until he wore her beautiful body out.
“OW!”
Piotr froze. He relaxed his grip on Ali’s waist slowly, already knowing the awful truth. Alison was holding her breath when he pulled away. She smacked her lips, her pink tongue darting out to lick the bottom.
“I’m ok,” she said softly. But there was pain in her tone.
“I’m sorry,” Piotr said immediately, guilt crushing him already. “I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” she said, ducking her head to attempt meeting his gaze. “Piotr.”
Hearing her say his name, the gentle accent she inflected to get the pronunciation right, wrenched his heart. He caught her under the arms and stood, placing her on her feet as gently as he could.
“It’s past curfew,” he said, trying to detach himself. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”
“Piotr, come on,” Ali said, obviously hurt by his dismissal.
“Get out.” He replied harshly, glaring at her.
“Asshole,” Ali shot back. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. Things got a little heated, I mean, damn. That was one hell of a kiss.”
“LEAVE!”
She didn’t startle at his bellow, or the stream of Russian curses that left his lips. He ran a hand through his hair, moving to the door and swinging it open. Alison glared at him, shaking her head. The only sound between them was her throaty vocals wafting through the room from the stereo.
Alison turned sharply, her hand thrust out as a beam of sizzling light left her palm. She effectively melted the stereo, making the sound distort as it bent and swayed. That done, Ali tossed her blonde head and brushed past him.
“Goodnight, Piotr.”
He slammed the door behind her. Though he tried to resist, he couldn’t. Piotr darted toward the cameras, catching a look at Alison as she stomped up the stairs, her mouth moving as though cursing him. His eyes followed her until she ducked into the room she shared with Kitty.
Piotr threw himself back into his chair, covering his face with his hands.
“What have I done?”
~**~
“Ali?”
“Go back to sleep.” She snapped, darting into the bathroom.
Kitty was getting out of bed as Alison flicked the light on, turning her back toward the full-length mirror. She lifted her shirt as her friend poked her head into the bathroom. Alison winced, noting the dark, ugly bruises already forming on her waist.
“Holy hell!” Kitty gasped, moving inside. “What happened?”
Ali touched the bruises gingerly, sighing. “I kissed Piotr.”
“You…oooh,” Kitty winced. “Got a little…heated?”
“Yeah.” Ali dropped her shirt. “I think I hurt him more, though.”
“It’ll be ok,” the younger girl said with a small smile. “You can talk to him tomorrow.”
Ali tossed her head, facing Kitty with a defeated look. “Yep. Soon as I figure out what to say.”
The girls moved back into their room, flicking the light off quickly.
“So,” Kitty asked as they climbed into their beds. “Good kiss?”
“Girl,” Ali whispered, touching her mouth. “You’ve got no idea.”
~**~
Logan stopped outside of Storm’s bedroom after his perimeter check. A quick sniff told him she was inside, his ears picking up the sound of her humming as she readied for bed. She’d been going to bed later and later. He wondered what kept her from sleeping.
He knocked twice and entered without waiting for her to invite him inside. She was sitting at the vanity table by the window, a brush in her hand. Logan blinked at her, reminding himself that this woman would one day be his wife.
Or so they thought. They’d changed the timeline so much already, who knew if he would actually marry this weather goddess.
She’d been on his mind for the last several hours. Bishop was reclusive, hiding in his room after Storm revealed what they thought was an inability to carry children. Something about the battle at Liberty Island, the way Toad had thrown her into the elevator shaft. Logan knew she’d been hospitalized afterward, but he had never thought to ask why.
Blunt Force Trauma to the Abdomen. That was the reason her doctors had given her. There was scarring on her uterus, making it inhospitable for human life. Logan agreed with Hank that her inability to accept Bishop as their son was likely because of this knowledge. The poor woman had confronted something she thought utterly impossible.
“Logan?”
“Hey,” he eased further into the room. “I wanted to see if you’d talked to Luke.”
A frown creased her brow as she placed the brush on the vanity top. “No. He wouldn’t let me in.”
“You dropped an A-bomb on him, Storm,” Logan sighed, rubbing his eyes. “He ain’t takin’ it well.”
“No, of course not,” Ororo looked away. “I shouldn’t have told him.”
“Maybe not, but it’s out now. Gotta deal with it.”
She gifted him with a small smile. “Wisdom? From the Wolverine?”
“Quiet, woman.”
Ororo stood, completely unashamed in her cotton nightgown. Logan felt his mouth go dry at the sight of her. The smooth material molded to her generous curves, the light blue color stark against her dark skin. She was beautiful and damn if he didn’t want her again.
He’d just come to ask about Luke, he told himself. He’d done that. He should go.
But Logan didn’t want to go back to his own room. He wanted to feel her again, to fall into her body until he exhausted himself. He wanted those hot kisses, to hear her moan his name as he brought her to bliss. By God, when had he decided he wanted this woman?
“Logan?”
He grunted, noticing that she’d come closer. He could smell the lavender of her shampoo, the creamy vanilla of her hand lotion. Without thinking about it, one hand reached for her.
To his great surprise, Ororo moved closer, allowing his hand to grasp her hip. She smiled slightly, brushing her body against his in pure invitation.
”I don’t want to be alone.”
There was something in her eyes, in her scent that gave him pause. Oh hell, she was ripe. Her hormones in overdrive due to the change in her cycle, she would likely jump just about anything to get her itch scratched.
No, he amended as his hand reached up to touch her cheek. She never did just anything. Logan ran his thumb over her bottom lip, enjoying the heady, intoxicating scent that called to the primal beast inside of him. He wanted to mate, to take her with passion and fire until there was nothing left between them.
“I want you,” he whispered, dragging her hips against his so she could feel the ache. “Say I can stay.”
“Stay,” she pled, leaning to brush her lips against his. “Stay with me, Logan.”
He didn’t need telling twice. Taking her into his arms, he tilted his head down to kiss plump lips, pulling her closer. She wound her body around his, letting him lift her into his arms. Logan held her gently, as though she were breakable. Precious. The last time they’d done this dance, it was filled with anger and punishment.
Not this time. He lowered her to the bed with extra care, splaying her fantastic body out as though she were a gift. She smiled up at him, the simple gesture creating an ache in Logan’s heart. This was no fast and furious romp on the pool table, no second wind on the floor of his bedroom. She was offering herself to him.
He covered her body with his, taking her lips in a slow seduction that stole his breath away. Her hands drifted over his shoulders lightly, as though she were exploring him for the first time.
Logan undressed himself in stages, keeping his hands on her as much as possible. Her nightgown was unbuttoned slowly, his lips raining kisses on every inch of flesh he exposed. He learned every secret her delicious form had to offer, taking every sensual part of her in his hands for proper inspection.
His mouth traced her curves, covering the dark peaks of her breasts before traveling lower. She undulated into him when he covered her center, crying out softly. Logan feasted on her, drawing out wild cries and throaty moans.
When she came down, he took her mouth again. Long, caramel legs came up to wrap about his waist. He slid inside of her on a low moan of her name. She drew him deeper, deeper, deeper. Logan kept his eyes on hers, drowning in the promise and fire he found there.
She tightened around him, her heels pressing into his ass to pull him closer. Ororo’s hands flexed on his shoulders, nails biting into his flesh. He could feel her give in, surrender in his arms as though she were tired of fighting.
Logan found himself doing the same without thinking about it. He fused their mouths together, swallowing her cries as his hips thrust faster. She tasted smoky, like one of his favorite cigars. It was a taste he could lose himself in. Logan buried his face in her shoulder, murmuring her name as her grip on him tightened.
They exploded together with gentle sighs. Ororo wrapped him into her arms, kissing his sweat-slicked hair. He rolled onto his side, staying inside the warmth of her body as he drew her into his embrace.
Ororo looked up at him, her emotional armor suddenly gone. She smiled again.
“Logan.”
He returned her smile sleepily.
“’Ro.”
~**~
Pyro looked to the violet-haired Psylocke expectantly as dawn broke over the mansion’s grounds. It always surprised him that he felt no sense of loss at seeing his old home. The manicured lawns and sculpted gardens were too pristine, too perfect for him.
John liked his destruction too much for perfection.
“They’re asleep, except for Colossus.”
“Security shift,” Pyro nodded.
“Orders?” Betsy asked, raising a dark brow.
“Hit fast and hard. Get Bishop.”
She smiled wickedly, closing her eyes to send out the command via telepathy to the other Brotherhood mutants. Pyro smirked at her, staring at the revealing violet uniform that molded her slender curves.
One thing he liked about Betsy was her ability to be sexy and dangerous without even trying. Should their mission go well, he’d have to visit her bedroom again.
“They’re in place.” She told him, her arched brow telling him she’d caught his thoughts.
“Good,” he grasped her ass, squeezing it tightly. “Go fuck ‘em up so I can fuck you.”
“Mmm,” she hummed, a glowing psi-blade erupting from her right hand. “Promises, promises.”
The sound of an explosion came from the back of the mansion and Pyro leapt over the wall. His war had just begun.
