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Chapter 13: Trask



“So, tell me why again am I talking to you on your cell phone instead of you being here in Malibu?” the slightly humored tone of Tony Stark inquired as his disembodied voice carried through the portable telephone’s receiver.

Johnathan Silvercloud sighed audibly while wearily pinching the bridge of his nose as he regarded his mobile phone for the forth time in the last five minutes. The Cheyenne man had been talking with Stark for the last twenty minutes explaining and re-explaining the situation to the Stark Industry CEO. “I told you already…” Johnathan reaffirmed again, dreading having to repeat himself again for a forth time.

“I know, I know, just humor me a bit,” Tony cut in a bit curtly, “For a moment here I’d like to pretend that I’m actually in charge of this company,” Stark continued, applying the guilt on real thick, which caused John to sigh again. Forge didn’t mind explaining himself to Tony, especially since he was his boss and all. But the Maker knew Stark now was on the phone just to give him a hard time.

It was something he loved and also got on his nerves about the man. Tony Stark was brilliant without saying and an excellent businessman, but it also felt like the two of them were old friends, even brothers sometimes instead of co-workers. A fact Tony loved to put to his advantage whenever possible.

The Stark Industry CEO chuckled a few more times after hearing the clearly outdone groan from his friend. Tony then pulled out a smile. “Just get out here as soon as you can,” he informed Silvercloud honestly, “I want your opinion on a personal project I’m working on. Give Charles my best,” he finished before disconnecting the line.

OoOoOo

Headmaster’s Suite
Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters
Westchester, New York
Noon…

Scott, Jean and the rest of the X-Men started to file into to Xavier’s study, while Forge was in the middle of his phone conversation. Logan, who was already present in the suite, briefly noted everyone’s entrance. He was posted up against the ledge to the fireplace, arms nonchalantly crossed in front as he took the time to inspect this newcomer.

He instantly recognized the tall Native American man from the Stark Company in Seattle. A little over six feet in height, long dark hair that was captured in a ponytail, a thin dark mustache with almond colored skin. The Wolverine could smell the faint splashes of cologne on his person; too faint to have been applied recently. It was probably from the night or even the day before, he guessed. Even though his black suit was still neat and tidy, Logan spotted a few creases that ran along its sleeve making it seem it was just to have been slept in recently. Probably during the flight over here, he pondered while chewing on the worn toothpick that was in his mouth.

Logan’s gray eyes then flicked across the room; noticing the entrance of a certain Windrider; Ororo briefly met eye contact with the Cheyenne man. A little more than a passing smile breezed between two which raised some of the hairs on the back of Logan’s neck not to mention heating his pulse. But it instantly cooled when she turned to him, brandishing an even brighter smile in his direction. He pointedly didn’t return the gesture; instead he allowed his eyes to fall up and down, continuously drinking in the seductive curves of her appearance.

Ororo noticed his interest and instantly seemed to bolster from it. Her mind then briefly returned to their encounter from the stairwell. She could still taste lingering traces of his lips from the kiss they shared, not to mention the feel of his powerful arms capturing her body. “Who’s tha suit?” Logan asked as she sat down into one of the chairs in front of him.

“That’s Forge,” Jean piped in, seated in a chair that flanked Logan’s left. “He’s an old friend from back when we were all students here in the mansion,” the redhead continued. Her eyes then made a devious cut towards Storm, “He and ‘Roro, used to be a hot item back in the day.”

Ororo rolled her eyes at the obvious taunt from her friend, “Jean, that was a very long time ago,” the African woman dismissed with a small fleeting smile, “But still good times…” she added genuinely.

“Yes they were…” Jean returned, nodding returning the sentiment.

Logan’s gray eyes darted between the two women. He then shrugged his shoulders in indifference. It seemed that this Forge guy was finally off the phone.

OoOoOo

The Cheyenne man stood before the whole ensemble group of the X-Men with Xavier patiently placed behind his desk. The sight instantly took Forge back several years ago when he was a regular amongst the roster. Granted even back then he was more active on the technical end as oppose to the front lines, but the few times he was needed to fight, he answered his call to battle just as strongly as everyone present.

Xavier, sensing that former the X-Men was ready to start, decided to add a few words, “Before you begin, Johnathan I’d like to say how great it is to have you back here in the mansion,” Charles warmly greeted.

“Thank you Charles,” Forge acknowledged with a slight bow of his head. The Cheyenne man’s features then darken as he prepared to speak, “I wish this reunion could have been on better terms, but lately things are looking from bad to worst,” he stated grimly.

“You have some news on Erik?” Scott inquired, deciding to take the initiative.

Forge shook his head, “No unfortunately,” he then paused to retract a mini-projector from his briefcase. “But the information that I have is equally as important.” Silverwind then flicked on the switch to the device. A funnel of white light poured out onto the barren adjacent wall. The blank picture was then quickly replaced with an image of a Stark Industry contractual form. “Ok everyone, what we’re seeing here is a page of a typical contract form used for all of Stark Industries projects,” the Cheyenne man then paused while bringing up another viewing of the same contract just at a higher magnification. “Now, this particular form was Stark Industries’ contract with the Friends of Humanity’s Wildlife research facility. The company that enlisted Stark Industry to work on that DNA searching program that was Magneto’s target,” Forge then frowned, “This is all but worthless now.”

“What do you mean?” Xavier asked sensing the Maker’s inner trepidation.

“Well, it’s seems the owner of this alleged company was a person named, Gregory Bennett,” Forge then switch to the next slide, which depicted a wooly hair old man with a thick white beard. Jean off-handedly commented to Ororo that he reminded her of Santa Claus, just as Forge continued, “A guy that had actually been a coal miner for more years then most of us have been alive,” he then paused, while sending Xavier a sympathetic look, “Sorry Professor,” Forge said remorsefully, which drew a few chuckles from amongst the group.

“That’s quite all-right Johnathan,” Charles said, taking the jab good naturally, “We can discuss it further in detention after school,” the older man returned without missing a beat, which drew a laugh from everyone.

Forge chuckled quietly to himself for a few minutes then quickly sobered, returning to the task at hand, “Anyway, every single one of the names listed on the documents Stark drafted were phonies.”

Frowning, Jean nearly raised her hand before she realized ridiculousness of the action and just spoke. “Why would someone go to such lengths?” she inquired.

“A person that was thoroughly trying to hide what they were doing,” Scott responded grimly, “What worries now me is what else they were hiding?”

The Cheyenne man shook his head, “That I honestly have no idea. I spent all last night following a dozen paper trails and false leads; the only thing I could come up with was a name,” Forge then clicked on his projector remote switching to a portrait of a stern-faced man, “Trask, Bolivar Trask.”

Trask was an older American Caucasian man appearing to be in his mid-fifties. He had a thick neatly trimmed mustache with fierce looking dark brown eyes. His hair, like his mustache was keenly kept as well, a shorten cut of dark brown hair with fraying lines of gray beside his temples.

Forge continued, “I cross-referenced his name with some help from a few Pentagon buddies I made from my time in the service. They revealed to me that Trask was a military scientist and anthropologist that in the eighties was trying to spear head a program called: Project Initiative.”

“What did this Project Initiative entail?” Xavier asked, as a dark shadow of foreboding started to develop inside him.

The Cheyenne man shook his head again, “That’s the thing I have no idea,” Forge replied a little more than frustrated, “All traces of the work were trashed, erased, or removed, by someone a lot more talented than yours truly. Also I wanted to add that there is no official American Intel on Bolivar Trask’s present whereabouts. It’s like the guy completely vanished ten years ago,” the Marker supplied from the mounting mystery. His dark eyes then sharpened, “But the one thing I do believe is that whatever Project Initiative is, it has something to do with what motivated Magneto’s attacks on my company.”

“So now that you’ve made us aware of all of this, what now can we do to prepare?” Ororo asked speaking for the first time.

Forge paused in thought for a moment before answering, “I figured, I can run a trace program through Cerebro,” he suggested contemplating as he spoke, “I should be able to link it up with several different nationwide developmental facilities. That way, the moment any one of the alarms are triggered, I.E Magneto starts attacking them; we’ll be notified,” the Maker then frowned as he realized the reality of the plan, “Granted it won’t provide the largest window of opportunity for preparation, but its all we have at the moment. If we can get some clue as to what Trask was trying to create then we might be able to better predict Magneto’s next attack.”

“How long do you think it will take to create and upload the program into Cerebro?” Scott asked.

Forge didn’t answer right away as he pondered some mental calculations. His dark eyes then returned to Summers, “Four hours, maybe five tops,” he answered confidently.

Xavier nodded, “Make it so then,” he turned to Cyclops, “Scott can you give him a hand?”

“Of course,” the X-Men leader nodded while, he and the others started to rise to their feet.

Forge paused as one more thought came to him, “There’s one last thing I have to add,” he stated halted everyone in the room, “I also found that a working beta version of the program we were developing on was sent to the ‘Friends’ facility three months ago, to update them on our progress. Even without the field-testing that we were still in the process of doing, with a decent amount of computer training know-how, a reasonably skilled team could complete the program in no time.”

Xavier shook his head, “That’s something we will have to worry about later. Right now, stopping these attacks take more precedence,” Charles blue eyes then panned across the entire group. His stare lingered on all of their faces before he spoke, “Its imperative that you all be ready at a moment’s notice,” he strictly instructed, “Know that when it is put online, the signal from Cerebro can sound at any time.”

OoOoOo

“You’re looking good Ororo…” a warm voice greeted the Windrider.

Ororo Monroe smiled as she turned to see her old friend. Forge spared a few words to Scott, asking him to meet in Cerebros’ mainframe in about twenty minutes so they could start. He then turned back to illustrious former goddess. She looked just as regal and radiant as he remembered her. For a small moment he felt a small twinge of nostalgia for times from the past. But he then cast those feelings aside; his heart belonged to someone else now.

Ororo stared back at Silverwind, brief memories from the past resurfacing. Forge started to attend Xavier’s school a few years before she graduated. Being more technical minded and also a few years her senior, seemed to give him a more serious and mature demeanor. He always put forth his best effort and worked hard at everything he set his eyes to, including winning a date from the then standoffish Ororo.

“You are too,” the Windrider returned his sediment genuinely as well, taking in the sharp dark suit he was wearing, “You seemed to have made quite a name for yourself. Stark Industries,” she remarked seemingly surprised, “I have to admit I’d never imagine finding you there,” she stated not hiding her amazement.

“Yea, those days at Mutant High seem so long ago,” the Cheyenne man responded while falling in step with her.

“How’s Mystique?” she turned, asking him suddenly. Not forgetting the runaway shapeling that had stolen his heart all those years ago.

A deep frown crossed her friend’s face as if the question alone dug up something tremendously painful. “To be honest I don’t know,” he stated at a lost, “I haven’t seen Raven in six months,” he then turned away from Ororo, looking far into the distance, “We had an argument a while back and she took off, I haven’t seen her since,” he soullessly supplied.

The African woman frowned deeply, “I’m sorry to hear that,” she responded sincerely.

A small weak smile started to creep its away along his lips, “Its funny for years we’ve always had this rocky relationship,” Forge stated to her, “We hook up for a few months then eventually we get on each other’s nerves then she takes off for a bit,” he grinned at the past ridiculousness from both their parts from the past, “Next thing I know I start to miss her, she starts to miss me and next I look she’s on my doorstep again.” He laughed once he spotted the baffled look on Ororo’s face, “I know its not anywhere close to normal, but it seemed like how we fit with each other.”

“But this is the longest time she’s been gone,” he said continuing, “I keep getting this feeling in my gut that something’s wrong and that I should be out there looking for her,” Forge then frowned dejectedly, “But I got my duties with Stark Industries tying me down, not to mention with all that happening now with the attacks.”

“Forge I cannot tell you how sorry I am,” Ororo responded sincerely. She then considered something for a moment; “Perhaps Charles can use Cerebro…” she began.

“No, no…” Forge profusely shook his head, “I’m probably just worrying myself over nothing,” he stated trying to reassure her, as well as himself, “I just really miss her.”

Ororo frowned while regarding her one time love. She remembered with fond memories the two years the two of them spent together before they’re break up. There were no hard feelings on either side; they were just two people that wanted two different things.

For six months they had been separated, each of them had tried their hand at dating other people but each produced little to no results. At one time it almost seemed that the two were on the road to rekindling their relationship; that was till trouble came to the Xavier Mansion in the multi-form of a shape shifter named Mystique. The shapeling only spent a month at the mansion. There were many rumors that went around that she was only staying at the mansion to evade the authorities for some reason or another. Nothing was ever confirmed though, because when next they looked the blue skinned, shape shifter had fled Winchester altogether, only this time she wasn’t alone.

When word finally spread around about Forge’s abrupt departure Ororo was devastated, but her pain was not long lasting. After a long talk with Jean, sponsored by Ben & Jerry, she realized that while she did love Forge with all her heart, she hadn’t been in love with him for some time.

Returning to the present, the former goddess wrapped her old friend a deep hug that he affectionately returned, “I’m sure she’ll turn up again,” she whispered trying to reassure him.

Silverwind nodded numbly, “And when she does, I’m going to do whatever I have to, to make sure she stays with me, where she belongs.”

OoOoOo

The exchange between Forge and Ororo hadn’t gone unnoticed by the attentive eyes of the Xavier’s School resident Wolverine. Logan noticed the intimacy between the pair and briefly wondered on what terms did they actually end on their relationship on. He then snorted while turning away, as he saw her gently kiss the Cheyenne man on the forehead.

The only reason why he hadn’t already carve the Native American man a new liver was because he didn’t catch a hint of desire from either of them. Still didn’t mean he liked seeing him all cozy with ‘Ro.

Either way the news from the jerk’s report and the fact he still hadn’t a clue where to find Creed was putting him on edge. It seemed like every minute he wasted here in the mansion was another minute that smug bastard got away with everything that he did. When the time was right, he’d be able to settle everything, but right now the moment wasn’t right. There was still too much he didn’t know.

Regardless sitting idle was getting him very antsy. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. He could feel his blood starting to rise. The need, the want to break something, anything to get this frustration out was all too consuming. He then briefly caught the eye of Peter. The young Russian man took in the agitated look of his friend and automatically, nodded his head in the direction of the lower-level elevators.

Logan hated to admit it, but he was really starting to love that kid.

OoOoOo

The Danger Room
Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters
Westchester, New York
The Coliseum

The Wolverine found himself back in that ridiculous yellow and blue suit.

The scenario was called; ‘The Coliseum.’ The simulation depicted a large roman style coliseum. Grant stone pillars surrounded the voluminous stadium walls, with a dirt pit in it center were the combatants fought. The simulated battleground was also filled with breakaway walkways and various other goodies and traps to keep things lively, but small tidbits such as that didn’t bother the Wolverine in the slightest. The huge looming shadow that was descending from up above him was what he was more concerned about.

The Wolverine gritted his teeth. With a flash his claws were to his side as he deftly hopped back, just seconds before the massive metallic form of Colossus crashed down onto the floor in front of him. The metallic Russian, dressed in a red body suit with golden designs, grinned at his opponent, but he only had a moment of reprieve, before the Wolverine’s fist lunged forward. Colossus dropped his shoulder, (like Logan taught him) taking a glancing swipe while burrowing in fast, his massive fist shot forward giving Wolverine a moment to react.

But that proved to be more than enough time.

The Wolverine somehow used the giant’s approaching wrist as a springboard, vaulting his whole body over the Russian somewhat in a perverse game of leapfrog, which allowed him to slip down behind the steel titan’s back. He then nearly dropped to his knees then threw himself up in a backwards somersault, just as the pulverizing double-fisted blow of Colossus obliterated the earth. The Wolverine landed to Colossus opposing flank, seeing the wide exposed back of his opponent, he decided to use two meaty hands and took hold.

Now reason dictates that when you are seven and half feet tall, weighing five hundred and fifty pounds and are made of solid steel, that there are very few things, if any, on this world that can overpower you. Therefore the Wolverine cannot overpower this being called Colossus. He should not be able to break him, move him, or budge him. He shouldn’t even dare try. But the problem was that the Beast had long ago cast aside concepts such as reason. It does what it damn well pleases.

The Wolverine’s foot shot out in between the steel giant’s legs, just as he dropped down low to compensate for such a colossal frame. He then pulled down with all his might, which was like moving a mountain, yanking the titan completely off of his feet completing the hip toss. And soon Colossus experienced the weightless sensation before the wind was blasted from his lungs from the massive devastating slam.

Before the Steel giant could even get the chance to get his bearings or recover, three twelve-inch long claws made their presence known just below his nose, “Tag,” a raspy voice replied, “Ye’re it, bub…”

OoOoOo

Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters
Westchester, New York
X-Men’s Male Locker Room

“What's troubling you tovarisch?” Peter Rasputin asked as he came out of his shower. While he toweling himself off, he found that his body was aching in places that he didn’t know existed. Internally though he smiled. His body might ache, but it was a good ache. From his super strength and near indestructible body, he had been hard pressed to find a single person to have a good sparing match with since he started at the mansion. But it seemed his newly found friend from Canada was more than willing to take up the challenge. Granted Rasputin wasn’t sure if that was due to guts or pure insanity, either way his Danger Room sessions were sure to be more interesting from now on.

Already showered and fully dressed, the Wolverine frowned while looking up to the younger man, “What makes ya think I’m troubled?”

Colossus paused while in the middle of getting dressed to take a contemplative look. He then finally said, “You're mind is here, yet it isn't,” he stated, not commenting on the slash marks on his back that were on the road to healing from a few close calls. “It's like you're a thousand miles away from here, yet you're still standing in front of me.”

For a minute Logan thought to dispute him but he then blew out a long breath, “This all stinks, Pete,” the Wolverine growled out, “This Trask guy, that Magnet friend o' yer’s. All o' it.”

“Cyclops and Forge are working with Cerebro as we speak,” Rasputin supplied, feeling more than confident in his teammate’s capabilities, “I am certain we will find something soon.”

“Don't know how much longer I can take this Pete,” Logan shook his head in frustration, “E'ery minute o’ e’ery day I keep seein' that girl's face. Her soul ain't gonna find peace till I put that fucker under.”

The younger man paused for a moment to regard his distraught friend, “And will that bring you peace?” he inquired solemnly. Logan paused at the pointed question. He started to speak but realized he truly was at a lost to an answer. His eyes then fell over to the tall Russian man. Rasputin came around placing a large comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Give it some time Wolverine,” he advised sagely before walking out of the locker room.

In the empty room of the men’s locker room, Logan was alone to his thoughts. Every thing in his world used to be so clear-cut up until a week ago. It was bleak and unfulfilling, but it was simple. Now he was at a school of all places. Surrounded by children and so many lives that never would have to go through the experiences that shaped him into the person he was today. Now there were people that actually enjoyed his company outside of how well he did in the ring, or how much money he could win them.

And ‘Ro…

‘Ro was an entirely different subject altogether, one that even with all his years, he still couldn’t explain. The woman seemed to challenge him on every step of the way, yet still kept him honest with himself and her. The great unrest that always seemed to be brewing inside him, calmed whenever she was near.

After sometime Logan returned to his feet making his way outside the locker room. In the back of his mind for some reason his thoughts went back to the last statement Xavier had made before they had to break their session to meet with Forge. “Logan, is what you're willing to risk, worth all that you will lose?”

OoOoOo

Xavier Grounds
Westchester, New York
A few hours before nightfall

Strawberry orange skies greeted Marie as she wandered through the wooded forest outside the Xavier mansion. Her mission, as always it seemed these days, was in search of Logan. It had been a week already since the two of them met in Alberta and she decided to have a mini celebration. She wasn’t planning on anything too big; she just remembered a few dishes that she wanted to cook for him. But as always the Wolverine proved to be a difficult quarry to find.

The southern girl had scoured all over the mansion without any luck. When she recalled the affinity he held towards the outdoors, searching the expansive grounds that surrounded the mansion was the next option. And that option was proving to be a colossal task; the girl had no idea that the grounds that Xavier owned were so large.

“Rogue!!!” Marie stopped in her track as she heard the familiar voice of Bobby Drake. Rogue turned around to see his tall slender form hightailing over to her. She thought for a moment to ignore him, the southern girl had made it a point of not speaking to the boy for the rest of the day from his action from before, but she decided against it instead welcoming the company. Although it didn’t mean she was going to let him off the hook easily.

The poor boy nearly collapsed when he finally reached her. “I (pant) wanted (pant) to apologize (pant) for before,” he coughed out in between catching his breath. Bobby felt ridiculous; he played basketball normally with the rest of the kids. He shouldn’t have been this winded. The teen boy then took a long deep breath that seemed to straighten him out. “I kinda owed Jubilee and…”

“Save it,” the southern girl barked flippantly, “D’ye know how much ye emb’rassed me?” she point blank asked him. Her small face frowned deeply at him with her arms crossed under her breasts.

Bobby sighed while his hand raked over the back of his head, “I know I’m sorry. I realized everything kinda went overboard,” Drake returned, “All I knew was that Kitty and Jubi were worried about you. And when I heard that I kinda wanted to help out,” he explained without thinking.

That comment put made Rogue all ears. Her brown eyes widen in interest while looking at him, “Why’s that?”

Bobby whole face flushed with that, “Oh shit I wasn’t supposed to say that” look. “Errr…Uh… Well you know you’re still new and all,” he feebly added while trying to recover, “I just didn’t want anything to happen to you.”

The southern girl’s whole demeanor seemed to change as she just smiled prettily at him. “Ok…” she conceded while accepting his apology. “But!” she then straightened, “If yeh do that again, Ah’ll skin ye from ye head tah ye toes,” Rogue responded with no remorse.

Bobby straightened like a board in salute, “Yes Ma’am!”

The girl’s brown eyes then flashed; “Then Ah’ll tell Logan…” she finished with a vicious grin.

And the earth under Robert Drake nearly gave way as thoughts of getting on that guy’s bad side surfaced.

Bobby had never voiced this openly, because one Rogue was the guy’s friend and two more importantly she was a girl, but the tall lanky boy had a small ingrained fear of the short stocky Canadian man. He couldn’t help it. Every time Logan walked into the room the guy looked like he just got done beating the shit out of someone. And it didn’t settle Bobby’s fears in the slightest when he found out Logan used to do bare-knuckle boxing steel-cage fights for shits and giggles.

Yes, the Wolverine was diffidently on Bobby’s list people he never wanted to piss off. He was placed right next to Gandhi, but that was another story altogether.

OoOoOo

In another area of the grounds…

“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” Ororo said calling up to the air above her. Her sapphire blue eyes looked up and saw perched high along one of the sturdier branches the elusive Wolverine sitting barefooted with his back to the base of the tree, his thick legs crossed comfortably in front of him with one his few remaining cigars burning from his lips.

Logan looked down, regarding her for a second. A thick black eyebrow rose from her comment, “I ain’t hidin’,” he indignantly grumbled, “Jus needed a place ta be alone, ta think,” he finished with blowing out a small ring of smoke.

“So you found it by climbing up a tree?” Ororo countered, her tone seemed to question the sensibility of the act.

“Yep…” he responded simply, not rising to the bait. Another cloud of smoke blew from his lips as he sat there quite contently.

Ororo pressed her full lips together into a smile. Her eyes then briefly blended to their milky white color as she summoned a gentle gale wind that carried her up to the full height of the tree. Logan watched almost memorized as she masterfully rode the winds till she floated in the air in front of him. Her long mane of hair was now collected in a small ponytail seeming like a living thing as it rive around her like a serpent.

It didn’t come to him, till a moment after to scoot over a bit to make room. Although, she didn’t appear to be the least bit perturbed or agitated, she simply took the spot provided to her, right next to him. His thick arm then came around falling onto her hip as he pulled her a little bit closer to him. In return she nuzzled into his shoulder and remained there. A fact he wasn’t complaining about.

He couldn’t help but take a small whiff of her; her scent always seemed to be addictive. The rain and breezy air that she normally carried seemed to be overshadowed this time by a spray of sandalwood and lavender. She impulsively kicked one of her legs, which drew his attention to the long shapely limbs and the dainty bare cinnamon toes of her feet. She had changed out of the wrap-around skirt she was in earlier, now she was wearing a V-neck t-shirt and a comfortable pair of cut-off jeans, which more than once made him, think of those legs in various scandalously positions wrapped around him.

“You found a good one,” her voice said sometime later, “I used to climb up this tree all the time, when I was a little girl.” Logan briefly grunted and nodded, his mind clearing, returning to his original train of thought. She closed her eyes briefly as she felt his blunt fingers drawing small soothing circles along her side. She blew out a silent breath, painstakingly trying to ignore how incredibly right this moment felt. “So what are we thinking of?” she asked, coming out of his spell.

Logan turned to her and slowly an ocean of blue sapphires returned his gaze. He sighed while putting out his cigar. “What brings ya peace?”

Ororo drew back momentarily, her blue eyes peering strangely at the man. She briefly wondered what brought on such an uncharacteristic question. But it appeared he didn’t seem to be forthwith with any more responses, so she had to make due. She brought up one of her legs to her chest, allowing the other one to dangle casually from the edge of the branch as she pondered the question for a few minutes more.

“One thing is gardening…” she commented softly, “Working with the soil, feeling the earthly elements at work between my fingertips. There is something soothing when you’re able to witness a little life that you nurtured with your own hands. Then see it grow and blossom into a beautiful arrangement of hues and colors, knowing that you had a part in its journey.”

“Kinda like wit you an’ teachin tha rugrats,” he thoughtfully pointed out.

“Huh?” she turned to him not catching on.

Logan shrugged his shoulder, “Jus sayin’, same principal.”

Ororo blinked a few times as comprehension started to set in. A gentle beautiful smile then eased onto her face, “Yes,” she nodded her head; “I suppose I’ve never considered it that way.” He winked at her, causing her to smile again. “What of you?” she turned to him to ask, “What brings the infamous Wolverine peace?”

Logan paused for a moment in consideration. His gray eyes then sharpened before returning to her, “A six-pack of Molson would be a good start…”

OoOoOo

Rogue and Bobby Drake continued their trek through the forest. The southern girl had informed Bobby of reason for her venturing so far into the grounds. Granted the boy wasn’t overall thrilled with the prospect of finding the Wolverine, but any time he spent with Rogue, he figured was well worth it.

It seemed though that they’re journey had come to an end as the woods filled with the cackling laughter of Ororo Monroe. The two teens looked up to see quite a sight. The usually regal and very proper weather goddess; was now draped haphazardly around the notorious Wolverine, shoulders quaking as roaring laughter flew free from her lips. She only briefly stopped to catch her breath that was till a few gravelly words mumbled from Logan set her off again into another giggle spree.

Marie pressed her lips between her teeth in bewilderment and frustration. She felt almost foolish now for wasting all this time trying to find him, when he was there with her. “That’s so weird?” Rogue heard from beside her.

She whirled around and blanched; suddenly remembering that Bobby was still standing there. “What is?” she asked him.

“Miss Monroe,” he answered while motioning to the African woman, “I’ve never seen her laugh like that before and so much. She’s always so…” he paused as he considered the best word to describe it, “…reserved, in class and in the Mansion.” He also secretly thought that Logan appeared less scary too. Although the Wolverine still maintained that omnipresent scowl that was starting to become legendary around the mansion, there was a light in his gray eyes and a slight energy in his tone that he never recalled when ever he stalked the mansion halls. Granted this new revelation wasn’t about to stop the boy from sleeping with one eye open, but it was still progress.

Rogue turned her scowling eyes away from Bobby and returned to the unconventional couple. She sighed deeply as she realized, if she allowed a moment for her own jealousy not take reign, she could say that he looked truly content with her there. He seemed to be simply at ease with her, as if he let all of his guards down finally. A task Marie with all her efforts was never able to fully accomplish.

“Bobby have ye e’er had a cheese shrimp an’ grits casserole?” Marie turned to the boy and asked.

The Drake boy paused at the sudden change of topic, “A what?”

Rogue flashed a grin at the poor deprived boy. “Come on, Ah’m gonna treat ye tah some o’ mah world famous cookin’,” the girl cheered while taking the boy’s hand and leading him back towards the mansion.

OoOoOo

“Come on…”

After watching the fleeing form of Maria hand in hand with that Drake boy, Logan snorted briefly before turning to Ororo with a questionable look, “What?”

“Come on,” the African woman encouraged again. There was a small flash of light and he watched as she sailed down to the ground below on a gust of wind, “You’ve been thinking for far too long. I’m going to take you to some place to take your mind off of things for a little while.”

After seeing her display, Logan just let out small, “Hmph”. Then tossed him self over the edge of the branch. His burly arm snatched out an instant later grabbing hold of the limb underneath him, throwing his body into a brief somersault that made him land just step behind the Windrider. “Darlin’ are ya taking me out?” he asked a moment later while he was rising to his feet after touching down. A small smirk was on his face, as he found a little more than amusement from the notion.

“Goddess forbid,” ‘Ro scoffed while turning away. She then considered something for a moment before returning with, “Think of this more like a kidnapping.” Her eyes then flashed before thinning to devious blue slits, “Either way Logan you have no choice in the matter.”

Logan’s thick eyebrows narrowed as he took up a defiant air. “Many o’ men have tried ta make that same claim darlin’,” he then grinned flashing a threatening assortment of razor-sharp incisors, fists stuffed casually down into his pockets as he took a stance, “Didn’t bode well fer ‘em.”

Ororo glared at him as she crossed her arms and stepped forward, making a point to invade the bullheaded man’s personal space. “Well not a tenth of them had the fortitude to back it up, Cowboy,” she replied icily, her face just inches away from his own.

The Wolverine sent her a threatening look, one that would have frozen the blood of most men.

And Ororo returned with one that was more than up for the challenge.

Logan sighed clearly beat. “I’ll get my jacket,” he grumbled while slipping on his boots and marching back to the mansion. He was getting soft he knew it. And the dang woman was to blame. A smile broadened on Ororo’s face as they both made their way back to the mansion.

And the brightness of that smile lasted all until he gave her hair a nice tug.


To Be Continued…





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