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Ororo was in Hell.

Her feet ached. Her crimson velvet bridesmaid gown was too hot and the DJ had just put on the Macarena. The intermittent shouts of ‘Hey Macarena’ coupled with the clap-clappity cadence of the song had started an answering tattoo in her skull.

Hell.

From her perch at the bar where three empty martini glasses were lined up like little soldiers in front of her, Ororo cast a glance at the howling crowd on the dance floor. Jean, in her poufy white gown, stood in the middle of the boisterous group with a big goofy grin on her face as she moved her arms in the pattern required by the dance. Scott, trying manfully to follow the movements but failing miserably, was sporting an even goofier grin. He looked carefree and happy, his tuxedo shirt was unbuttoned, his bow-tie loosed and his formal jacket had long since been discarded.

Over in a corner, Logan was grinning down at the very blonde, very busty cousin of Jean’s who’d seemed to be glued to his side all night. Ororo sent them both a sour look and motioned the bartender for another round.

Service here was impeccable because in seconds the affable young man had set another martini glass in front of her, complete with two little olives stuck artfully on the toothpick submerged in the olive colored liquid.

“Here you go ma’am” he chirped cheerfully “very dry and very dirty.”

Ororo sent him a sharp smirk and sipped at the drink, loving the way the smooth, chilled, top-shelf vodka slithered down her throat.

The wedding had been beautiful. Jean had been a glowing bride in her pristine white Amsale gown, holding roses so dark and rich they looked almost purple. With the strains of Pachelbel’s Canon echoing through the sanctuary, she seemed to float down the rose petal strewn aisle toward her besotted groom. The church had been filled to bursting with family, friends and loved ones.

None had been witness to the complete chaos that had reigned mere hours earlier as Jean had turned into the ultimate Bridezilla.

-:¦:-.•:*'""*:•.-:¦:-

Earlier that day

“Mom, the satin on these shoes no longer matches the color of the gown!” Jean stood in a seafoam colored robe, her hair up in massive rollers and her unmade-up face splotchy red from anger. She was waving the shoe in front of her mother’s face as if it was a sword and she was planning to skewer the poor woman.

This was just the latest in a long line of rants. The flowers were too big or not big enough. The seating chart for the reception was all wrong. The gown had too much tulle. She should have gone with the satin Vera Wang. She should have had a June wedding. And on and on and on. No one was safe from Jean’s harsh tongue or her piteous tears.

If Ororo hadn’t seen it for herself in full Technicolor, she would have never believed that Jean would so completely lose her shit on her wedding day.

“But darling, this is the same exact shoe we’ve had matched with the gown.” Mrs. Grey was a slim, fine boned woman who looked severely elegant in a lavender cashmere knit dress. It was easy to see where Jean had gotten her coloring and her looks.

“The people who sewed on the crystals must have messed up the original shoe and replaced it. This looks all wrong. I can’t walk in the church in a white dress and an egg shell shoe!” Jean’s voice was nearly a wail.

Ororo stood, poured some sparkling water into a cobalt blue goblet and handed it to Mrs. Grey who smiled gratefully and gulped.

“Jean, the shoes and the gown match. The company did not swap out your shoe. The lighting in this room is pastel. It is going to reflect differently off chiffon than it will off satin. When we get in more natural light, it’ll look fine.” Ororo’s matter of fact voice and her no-nonsense manner seemed to calm Jean’s frazzled nerves.

Over in the corner slouched on an overstuffed chair, Lorna, Scott’s sister-in-law and one of Jean’s other bridesmaids sent Ororo a salute. Another bridesmaid, her cousin Kassie was busily admiring her new boob job in the floor length mirror, oblivious to the drama.

“Jean stop acting like a baby, you’re throwing bigger tantrums than Gailyn here.” Jean’s sister Sara was fixing a torn sash on her daughter’s flower girl dress. She’d simply had enough and wasn’t going to be as polite about it as Ro.

Jean thumped in her chair before the wide vanity mirror where a hair stylist and make-up artist waited patiently to do their job.

“Jeannie why don’t you let Hénri finish your make up so that André can do your hair. We only have two hours before the guests start arriving.” Ororo nodded at Henri who began murmuring in broken English over Jean’s flawless complexion and grass green eyes. Meanwhile Andre began busily setting up his own workstation.

Mrs. Grey uttered a sigh of relief that this latest bit of world shaking tragedy had been averted. Ororo steered the woman toward the door of the suite they were all presently using to get ready.

“Mrs. Grey, why don’t you go on and get yourself ready. I think we have a handle on things.” With a grateful smile, Jean’s mom went to her own room to change.

“Jeannie why didn’t you tell me that Warren Worthington worked with you?” Kassie asked still admiring her profile in the mirror. Ororo was tempted to tell her to go get a room so she and her boobs could be alone. “I mean, who would have imagined that he’d be working as a teacher at a school. He’s so hot! And he’s richer than Oprah. What on earth is he doing here?”

“Some people actually like doing something useful with their lives.” Jean said archly as Hénri blended in a dusky shadow on her eyes, making the green in them pop. “Leave him alone, he’s involved with someone.”

Since Jean seemed a little more like her old self, Ro decided it was safe to step out for a moment. Slipping into the adjoining sitting room, Ororo called to check in with the hospital. She talked briefly with her father, reassured that he was feeling stronger but still a little concerned that even a quick conversation seemed to tax him. She was also heartsick that Moira’s condition hadn’t changed at all.

She also took the opportunity to call the Good Samaritan. Officer Ortiz had come through with contact information for the man. Ororo had planned to call him earlier but with the end of school activities and the upcoming wedding she’d barely even had a moment to breathe.

Of course this was the excuse she gave for barely even talking to Logan this past week. Ororo had tried not to think of that kiss in her bedroom, but it was a lesson in futility. She and Logan had both somehow managed to avoid each other with surprising ease this past week. Ororo sighed as she punched in the number for Mr. Covert on her cell phone.

This couldn’t last much longer or she’d go crazy. Most of the students were gone, Jean and Scott’s wedding would be over. Piotr and Betsy were both winging their way off across the Atlantic tomorrow for the holiday break, so she and Logan would have the house to themselves. As she heard the phone ring on the other end, she vowed that she’d corner Logan tomorrow and resolve once and for all whatever it was that seemed to be happening between them.


-:¦:-.•:*'""*:•.-:¦:-

Present time

Ororo finished her fourth martini just in time for the Macarena to end. She was just sucking the vodka out of her final olive when the DJ’s voice came low and seductive over the mic.

“And now we’re gonna slow it down a bit. C’mon guys grab a special girl and hold her close.”

The silken voice of Luther Vandross filled the room, imploring people to promise to love faithfully.

“That tears it!” Ororo muttered as she saw Logan slither onto the floor with Kassie who plastered her newly purchased breasts all over him.

She’d had enough. She’d been up since dawn running and fetching and calming nerves. Her feet hurt, her head hurt and …. her heart hurt. Ororo looked around the room and saw people happily talking and dancing. Betsy and Warren were snuggling in a corner. Jubilee and Marie were at the DJ’s booth rooting through CDs, happily bickering. On the dance floor, Alex and Lorna were gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes, while Jean rested her head on Scott’s shoulder as they moved together to the beautiful song.

And Logan….well…Ororo simply her turned her back on the room and walked quietly out. She’d never felt so out of synch with everyone and everything around her. She just wanted out. Running up to the suite she grabbed her purse and made her way to her car.

The song ended and Logan bit back a sigh of relief. Warren owed him big. He’d been running interference all night between Jean’s bimbo cousin and Warren. The poor guy had worn the wild eyed looked of a man hunted throughout the evening. Logan had run into him in the men’s room where he’d been hiding out.

Normally Logan would find the whole thing hugely entertaining but he’d taken pity on the guy. Especially since the poor sap had finally gotten up the nerve to tell Betsy how he’d felt about her. Logan could relate to that, given his own situation with Ro. He figured he’d dance a coupla dances with her, divert her attention and then spend the rest of the time with Ro. But he’d miscalculated. Betsy had given the Bimbo a strong warning to stay away from Warren and she’d instead transferred her attention to Logan.

He’d spent all night fighting her off, he’d barely had a chance to speak to Ro.

“How about you and me go find someplace a little quieter so we can….talk?” Kassie looked up at him under her heavily mascara’d lashes and thrust her chest out.

Easing her away from him Logan gave her one of his killer grins. “Sorry, sweetheart, I need to ….talk….to someone else. You enjoy the rest of your evenin’.”

Without sparing her another glance Logan did a quick circuit around the banquet room, but didn’t see Ororo anywhere. He headed to the bar where she’d been the last few times he’d looked around for her.

“Hey bub, you see which direction my friend went? Sexy African-American chick with blue eyes and white hair? She’d been sittin’ right here the past half hour or so.”

The bartender’s eyes lit up “Oh man, is she a looker or what? Yeah, she said she was leaving. She left like five minutes ago.” He jerked his head toward the wide double doors that marked the entrance to the banquet room “She went that way.”

Thanking the guy Logan hurried out the front of the hotel and looked for Ro’s car. Seeing the spot it had been occupying empty, Logan cursed.

What the hell was she thinking? Logan’s gut clenched as he ran to his own truck. She’d been drinking. She knows better than to drink and drive!

On the drive to the house, Logan’s emotions see-sawed from sheer anger to gut numbing fear. How dare she run out like that? What if she had an accident? It was dark, the roads were slick and there was very little traffic on these roads on Christmas Eve. The image of the twisted wreckage that was Charles and Moira’s car danced through his mind and caused his heart to leap into his throat.

He was tense the whole drive and didn’t relax until he saw her car parked neatly in its customary spot in their garage. At that moment he allowed his anger free reign. She’d put him through hell all week. She’d avoided him, refused to meet his eyes when they passed in the halls and generally spoke to him in terse monosyllabic words. And now she had left a wedding reception after downing Lord knew how many martinis. He’d been willing to back off knowing that she was under a lot of pressure this past week. But, By God, that was over. She’d scared ten years off his life with this latest stunt. He’d chew her ass good!

Taking the stairs three at a time he allowed his rage to propel him up to her third floor apartments. Without knocking he burst into her room and came to a screeching halt as he saw her sitting in her window seat, calmly staring out into the starry night as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

“What tha fuck were ya thinkin’?” He snarled at her all the while feeling an incredible giddy happiness at seeing her.

Ororo’s eyes lit as she stood up and marched toward him “Don’t you take that tone with me, bub.” She sniped back at him. “Who do you think you are slamming in here like that and cursing at me?”

Logan refused to be distracted by her beautiful face, framed by white curls or her heaving breasts revealed by the low cleavage of the empire style red velvet gown she wore.

“I think I followed you here scared out of my mind because I thought that at every turn I’d see your car wrecked on the side of the road and you dead.”

Ro felt a twinge of remorse. She knew that she’d had no business getting behind the wheel after drinking but she’d felt cold stone sober and she had needed to leave.

“Yeah, well, I’m not dead. So you had nothing to worry about.” She shrugged daintily.

If anything, her dismissive little shrug stoked the fire of Logan’s anger higher “Is that all you have to say to me? You didn’t say two words to me all day. Hell, all week.”

“Yeah, like you’d noticed.” Ororo sneered “You were too busy staring down Kassie’s dress all night to notice anything.”

At Ororo’s words, whatever comeback he’d had dried up on his tongue and a speculative look entered his eyes.

“Jealous, Ro?” He asked softly.

Ororo scoffed, but they both knew it sounded weak. “What reason do I have to be jealous? It’s not like you….like we…” But she couldn’t finish because he was moving closer. She could smell his after shave. It smelled like the woods and grass. It was so completely him. And her knees lost a little substance as she took a good look at him in his formal suit. He never dressed in anything but his flannel shirts and jeans. In those he was ruggedly handsome. In a suit, with a crisp white shirt and a tie, he was devastating.

He slowly reached for her and drew her into his embrace. Ororo moved into the circle of his arms, her face titled toward his expectantly. She’d known this would happen. On some level she knew that they’d been simply prolonging the inevitable. Ever since that kiss in Red Jack’s their feet had been set on a path had led to right here, right now.

Logan lowered his head and kissed her lips. In a flash, the kiss turned to something molten. They both opened their mouths to allow their tongues to clash. Desperately needing an anchor or risk being swept under, Ro’s hands went up and clasped Logan’s thick, dark hair.

A small incoherent sound escaped him as he settled in deeper and devoured her mouth. His own hands wandered restlessly over her body until they settled on her hips, drawing her forward so she could feel his burgeoning erection. Even through the thick velvet dress, Ro could feel his hardness. Glorying in how she affected him, she rubbed her body sinuously against him, wordlessly letting him know that she was aroused as well.

Tearing his mouth away, Logan stared down into a pair of blue eyes that looked slightly dazed.

“Tell me to stop, Ro.” He whispered huskily, his chest rising and falling under the strain of his heavy breathing. “Tell me to stop. Or I won’t.”

Ro stared at him for an endless moment before reaching behind her to undo the clasp at the nape of her neck. With a little movement of her shoulders, the heavy velvet dress collapsed in a heap at her feet.

Logan felt as if a mule had kicked him straight in the gut. And then all the blood in his body seemed to pool right in his groin. He went hard as a rocket.

She stood there, in the twilit room wearing nothing but a black corset that plumped up her breasts and cinched her waist, a tiny triangular wisp of silk underwear that barely covered her thatch of silvery curls and a pair of thigh high black silk stockings.

She stepped back into him, reaching up to softly touch his face, “Don’t stop.”

With a low growl, Logan reached for her again. Picking her up, he strode over to the wide bed and placed her on it. Without missing a beat he swiftly divested himself of his own clothing; yanking the tie off, ripping the buttons off the shirt and stripping himself of pants and underpants in one quick move. Unlike, Ro who was still somewhat covered, Logan stood there gloriously, magnificently, proudly naked.

Ro could feel the dampness between her thighs as she stared up at him. She had seen him in various stages of undress so she knew that he was well built. But she had never seen him in all his naked glory. He stood there, his cock thick and engorged, rampant in its nest of brown curls. His eyes glittered with passion and something else. Something a little more raw, a little more elemental.

He joined her on the bed and for a moment he did nothing but stare at her. Ro could easily see what was going on his mind. It was the same thing going on in hers.

…What are we doing?
…You look so beautiful.
…Where do I begin?
…I can’t wait to touch you.

As if a switch went on in his head, Logan dipped his head to her throat and began to nibble. His lips traced a line of fire down her throat to her breasts. He lifted one brown globe from the top of the corset and sucked the hardened nipple in his mouth. Meanwhile one hand dipped inside the miniscule little triangle and caressed her moisture there.

Ororo’s hips lifted spasmodically and rubbed sinuously against his hand. Her head was thrown back to give him all the access he’d want anywhere else. Sensing her unspoken need, Logan thrust one thick digit inside her silken wetness and moved it in a slow, mesmerizing rhythm.

“Tell me what ya want, Ro.” He whispered thickly into the fevered silence.

For a moment Ro couldn’t arrange coherent thought. His finger inside her had set off some truly amazing sensations. It was only when he spoke that she realized she wanted…no, needed, more.

“I want you. Inside.” She panted, grinding herself hard against his hand. “Now. Can’t wait.”

“Okay.” He agreed “But I gotta taste ya first.” With amazing dexterity, Logan unhooked the corset and flipped it to the floor, freeing her breasts to his hungry gaze and even hungrier mouth. Even while he feasted on her chest, he smoothly ripped the little triangle nothing of panties off her. She was now naked except for the silk thigh highs.

Crawling down her body, he let his tongue replace his finger. Ororo’s spine arched and her thighs clamped his head in place at the first touch of his insistent tongue on her labia. Unable to bear it, her eyes drifted closed as she gave her body over the incredible ministrations of his lips, teeth and tongue.

Logan groaned as her sweet taste filled his mouth. This was better than he’d ever imagined. More intense, more incredible. He nibbled, he stroked, he licked and sucked. She was making small mewling sounds as she rode his face. Needing to feel a small measure of relief, Logan restlessly stroked himself with one hand.

Knowing that it would be so easy to lie there and just ride his tongue to glory, Ororo realized that that wasn’t what she wanted at all. Reaching down, she tugged insistently at his hair.

“I don’t want to come like this. Not like this.” She said breathlessly. “I want you inside me when I come.”

With one last luxurious lick, Logan assented to her demands. But instead of the settling on top of her as she expected, Logan instead lay on his back and settled her on top if him.

She found herself straddling him, his thick erection between them, cupped between her swollen nether lips. Without conscious thought she rubbed against him, making him slick with her wet heat.

His eyes were slumberous as they looked up at her. His hands slithered over the silk covering her thighs..

“You want it, baby?” He murmured in a voice of gravelly velvet “Then take it. Ride me, Ro.”

Needing no other urging, Ro lifted and impaled herself on his hot thickness in one swift stroke.

“Jesus!” He moaned, his hands gripped her even tighter, his teeth biting into his lower lip “God, you’re so hot, Ro. So tight. Shit!”

Ororo said nothing. She couldn’t say anything. Her entire mind, her being, her soul was centered in the place where their bodies were connected. He filled her in places she hadn’t even been aware were empty. She braced her hands against his broad chest and slid up and down on him. Her eyes were riveted to that thick length that was sliding in out of her. She’d never seen anything so erotic, so carnally sexual. It set off a feeling of incredible intensity in her mind and a storm in her blood. Unable to bear the sight much longer, she threw her head back to simply commune with the feeling. She became a thing of sheer sensation.

Logan watched her through half lidded eyes. She was magnificent. Her head thrown back, her hair in a wild disarray around them. She looked like a Valkyrie or some pagan Goddess of old. God, he could barely contain himself as he watched her. He’d told her to ride him and she took him at his word. She was sliding on him in a frenzy, rising and falling in a demanding rhythm. One of her hands was gripping one of her own breasts, caressing the nipple. The other was tangled in his chest hair.

Suddenly, Ro shifted. She braced her hands on the bed on either side of his head and her hips ground onto his. She leaned down to snag his lips in a desperate kiss before opening her mouth in a soundless scream.

He could feel her contracting around him with the sudden heat of her release. Before she could finish, he embraced her strongly and flipped them over so that she was now underneath him. In one smooth move, he had her hands over her head and his teeth at her throat. Unable to control himself he thrust into her wildly.

“God…Harder…more…More….Ahhhhh!” Ororo panted, wrapping her legs around him and angling her hips so he could go deeper. Her orgasm felt like it could go on endlessly as Logan thrust deeply in and out of her. After what seemed like eternity, she finally came down from her sensory high just in time to feel Logan’s.

“Too good. So good.” He muttered into her throat, nipping it with his teeth. “I can’t….I…So good. Yes, baby. RO!”

Her name came in a shout as, with one final thrust he reared his head back, the tendons in his neck standing out in sharp relief, he poured himself into her. His body rocketed into her with such force he was amazed they didn’t break the bed.

Logan allowed himself to collapse on Ro, just for a moment he wanted to feel all of her. He was still inside her and he didn’t want to pull out. Not yet. This closeness felt too good to end.

Ro must have felt something of the same. Her arms slowly came around him and clasped him to her ever more tightly. Neither one said a thing, silently acknowledging the need to just be like this for awhile.

The evening drifted a little farther into night. Fearing that Ro would become too uncomfortable with is weight, Logan finally shifted off a bit.

Their eyes met, solemnly, questioningly almost fearfully. Here they were, best friends, naked in bed. Their legs were entwined; his hand lay on her hip, still gripping it possessively. Her fingers wound in his hair and their lips were a hairsbreadth apart. They’d just shared mind-blowing sex. What now?

“Logan, I…” words too heartfelt and meaningful trembled on her lips. What was the right thing to say? Ro decided to address her biggest fear “I don’t want to be just another one of your women. If…if this was just something you did because you just wanted sex then I need to know that.”

His eyes seemed to darken as they wandered over her face. One finger reached up to trace her lips, her nose and then her brow.

“Aw, Ro, you’re not just another woman. I’ve been driving myself crazy for weeks trying to figure out what I was feelin’. And how to get you ta see me as somethin’ more than just your buddy.”

Something warm and sweet blossomed inside her at his words. “Are you saying that this isn’t just a one night thing for you? You want this to be something more?”

Logan simply kissed her deeply before answering. “Ro, after what we just did how can you even doubt that this is something more. I don’t want just a one night stand. I was afraid of rushing you after Hank, but I …I can’t go back to just being your best friend.”

Unable to believe what she was hearing, Ro searched Logan’s face for any trace of insincerity. But his brown eyes were warm on hers and his face held nothing but truth.

“I can’t go back to being just your best friend either.” She whispered.

Realization came that their relationship had shifted onto a new plane. They’d acknowledged deeper feelings for each other. Now they were a couple. They were making the Ro and Lo Show the real thing. It was exhilarating, exciting and a little scary.

Logan reached down and drew the covers over them. Settling in, they spooned, with his arm heavy around her waist and her hand resting on his.

“Get some sleep.” He whispered into her hair, giving her a little kiss behind the ear. “We have some things to talk about tomorrow.”

“’kay,” she murmured snuggling even more deeply into him, thrilling at the feel of him wrapped around her.

“You know,” He said after a moment “I think you’re the best present I’ve ever gotten for Christmas. It was sure as hell fun unwrapping you. Think you can put that bustier thing back on tomorrow so we can do it all over again?”

Her giggles echoed in the darkness.


-:¦:-.•:*'""*:•.-:¦:-

On the other side of town

BEEP

“Mr. Covert? Hi, this is Ororo Munroe. You don’t know me, but my father is Charles Xavier. He and his wife Moira Mactaggert were in a car accident a week ago and your call to the police was instrumental in saving their lives. I just wanted to call you to personally thank you. I hope it isn’t an imposition. Please, I’d like to thank you in person. My number is 276-9018. I’ll look forward to your call.

CLICK

The sound of labored breathing punctuated the silence of the room. His fingers fumbled with the machine as he listened to the message again


BEEP

“Mr. Covert? Hi, this is Ororo Munroe. You don’t know me, but my father is Charles Xavier. He and his wife Moira…..

A strangled sound erupted as he’d masturbated to completion to the sound of her voice.

“Soon.” He whispered, lighting a cigarette with trembling hands and exhaling the acrid smoke into dim recesses of the room.





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