Disclaimer: I don't own any character used in this fic but if anyone from Marvel or Fox Studios offers, I'd be glad to take them off their hands and make a few bucks.
Butterfly
by Trilogy
I've always been an observer of people. When you're like me, you have to be. But I've never been so completely fascinated by one single individual. It's hard to pinpoint when my fascination began but once I started paying attention to her, I couldn't get myself to stop. There is no one I know of who has quite the same affect on me that she does. It's weird, but she is the one person whose presence can both calm me down and tense up my every nerve.
There are times when I walk down a hall and hear her talking with one of the kid's, asking them about their day or listening to their problems and I find myself eavesdropping. I think I'd kill someone if they ever caught me doing it, lingering outside her classroom with my head against the wall, letting her soft voice wash over me. She almost sings when she's talking to the kids. I imagine my mother must have sounded soft and pretty like that.
But then there are other times, when she's gets into what I consider her Storm persona and there's a threat somewhere out there to be taken down. She's changed since she's had to take on more of a leadership role of the team. At the debriefing meeting's her voice takes a different tone altogether. It's edgier, sharper now when she's in her uniform. Even her walk is different now that she's in command of some of our missions. She's more confident and bordering on cocky. I like it.
I don't know if its the black leather that does it or not, but I spend our team meetings picturing her standing over me with a flogger in one hand and a ball gag in the other. I 've never really been all that into the whole S&M scene, but recently I've had the most intense fantasies about letting her dominate me. Or maybe even vice versa. Needless to say I have a hard time concentrating on strategy and tactics these days.
It drives me nuts how she's always so in control. So serene. She has this whole aura of calm about her, and not once have I seen her completely lose it. She has come close before but only twice as far as I can tell.
The first time was the night of Jean's memorial service. It rained something fierce all that night. We all knew it was her. The winds were too violent, the rain to relentless to be caused naturally. None of us really had the energy to calm or stop her. It was what she needed to do. We all felt what she felt.
The only other time, I ever saw a crack in her control was the day the elf took off. We all suspected she was falling for him. It was obvious from the start he had a thing for her too but for whatever reason, neither one of them ever did a damn thing about it. Lord knows, it wasn't my place to ask her about him. She wouldn't have appreciated me askin' anyway. All I know for sure is that the day Kurt left to answer his calling to God, Westchester got a little taste of snow. In June.
Me and her aren't exactly what you'd call friends. Being outright rude isn't really her style, but she definitely has some invisible barrier up where I'm concerned. I doubt it's obvious to anyone else but me...and maybe, I'm just a little sensitive sense I'm the only one on the side of the barrier. She's more relaxed with everyone else, more herself.
To everyone else she's like some everlasting spring of free advice, but not towards me. I can't think of one time when she's gone out of her way to strike up conversation with me. I ain't much of a talker, but it irks me at times. The all night gabfests she's started having with Summer's especially bug the hell out of me.
Am I jealous? Hell, yeah. Why am I jealous? I have no idea.
Okay, yeah....I do. I just don't know how to describe it, without sounding like a candy ass.
You know how, every now and then, you catch sight of a butterfly. One of rare one's with all the colors,so exotic and pretty you have to look twice to make sure they're real.
She's like that.
And just like those damn butterflies, she's always outta my reach. The way she's always flitting around to rest her hand on everyone's shoulder but mine. Never noticing how my eyes follow her every move or how my hand twitches when I start wondering if her little body is as soft and graceful as it looks.
God, if she only knew......
Sometimes I want to touch her so bad I can't see straight. Like in the mornings, when I go into the kitchen to get
a bite of whatever's around and see her there leaning against the counter nibbling on a croissant or what have you.
On summer morning's she wears these little skirts....some kind of wrap-around deals. I think they call 'em sarongs. Nothing really indecent about them at all, except for when she shifts a leg just so and I catch a glimpse of her thighs.
I never noticed how great her legs were when Jeannie and her skin tight dresses were around. Long and solid, like a dancer's legs. Just the kind a man wants to feel wrapped around him.
As far as I can tell the rest of her ain't bad either. Its hard to tell sometimes, cuz she don't do much advertizing. Just once, I'd like to see if my imaginations come close though.
Course, I never really look too long anymore. The last few times I got caught staring, she sent me a look so cold and hard, I think I shivered a little.
She's never said as much but I get the impression that she tries to ignore the fact that I'm in the room most of the time. She talks at me, like I'm not really there, never really looking me in the eye. Like I ain't a human being.
She blames me for getting between Jean and Scott. Blames me for ruining whatever happiness they could have had together in their last year. She told me all this, the day of the memorial service. She wanted me to leave. Said I didn't have any right to mourn a woman I never really knew. That I had no right to make things any more difficult for Scott than they already were.
I did what I could to keep my distance that day. I got on the bike, had a few beers and later snuck back onto the grounds in time to catch the last bits of the service. I doubt if anyone but the Professor knew I came back. Reluctant as I to ever let her know I agreed, I know Ororo was right. My presence there would have only upset Scott who was already dangerously close to the edge. Besides I was never one for sharing my feelings anyway.
I cared about Red. A lot. She was a nice girl, the kind that's fun to be around. And she really liked the thrill of the chase. It's just that Jeannie was way too easy to catch.
Deep down inside, I admit, I'm mostly animal and I definitely can't ignore the lure of a good hard chase. And one day I plan to catch my elusive butterfly.
the end
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