Disclaimer: Don’t own, don’t sue.


Rating: pg13


Pairing: Ororo/Logan.


Authors Note: This fic is set around six years after the original film and
it disregards the events of the second for the simple fact that I’d
plotted it before I saw the sequel. So I guess you could say it’s an AU
movieverse.


~ = Translated from Arabic

**= Translated from Italian.


September 27, some years ago, Cairo, Egypt.


The dark streets of this ancient city were practically deserted save for
the odd beggar curled up in a doorway or mangy stray looking for scraps in
the gutters. In the early hours of the morning the usually teaming,
vibrant and noisy city was eerily quiet and even the slightest sound
became mammoth as it bounced around the dusty streets.


From a dingy ally way emerged a hooded figure, carrying what appeared to
be a bungle of rags. The figure peered one way down the road and then the
other before venturing out onto the main street.


Once out in the open they moved quickly, their long, concealing black robe
trailing on the sandy floor, creating a small cloud of dust in its wake.
The figure moved fast in the direction of a large sandstone building that
sat at the bottom of the sloping road.


Once at its steps, the figure paused, turning their head up slightly to
observe the huge building fully. Then looking down at the rags in their
arms they shifted the bundle, causing a tiny whimper to emanate from them.


“Shush, shush!” A feminine voice encouraged as she brought her hand up to
push back a piece of tattered, blue cloth to reveal the face of a tiny
child.


The baby could not have been more than a few hours old, it’s skin was
still wrinkled and discoloured from the birth and dried blood clots still
clung to the fine layer of pure white hair that covered it’s scalp.


The girl began to rock the child gently, swaying from side to side as the
baby’s cries became more urgent.


~ “Please don’t!” ~ the girl implored, her voice becoming thick with
emotion, trying to hold back tears. ~ “Please be quiet, please!” ~


The girl held the baby closer to her chest with one arm as she grasped a
handful of her dark robe in her right hand, lifting the hem from the floor
and trotted quickly up the steps.


Once at the top she was stood before an impossibly large, wooden panelled
door, like something fit for a fortress.


As she looked up at it she shuddered, painful memories hitting her hard.
She swallowed audibly, pushing down the lump that was forming in her
throat and with it all other emotions. She knew she had to be strong for
the child’s sake, she had to do this.


Looking down at the shivering little life she held in her arms, she
couldn’t stop one or two tears from falling. They landed on the baby’s
face that was now contorted with silent cries.


Bringing the child up to her face the girl closed her eyes and planted a
soft kiss on its creased forehead. After a long moment she finally
withdrew her lips but keeping her mouth near the child’s face, she
whispered, ~ “I am sorry.” ~


Bending down, she placed the child carefully on the floor, just in front
of the small access door that was set into the larger one.


Swiftly, she stood back up and reached for a long, thick rope that hung at
the right side of the door. Grabbing it with both hands, the girl pulled
down with all her strength, setting off a thunderously loud bell.


The noise echoed out into the night sky, causing nesting birds to flee, in
a flurry of squawking and flapping, from their rooftop sanctuaries.


As soon as she’d set off the bell the girl glanced quickly at the child
one last time before rushing back down the steps. As she reached the
bottom she chanced one more look back before running off into the darkness
of a nearby ally way.


Once there, satisfied that she was out of sight, she gripped at the
weathered corner of the ally’s wall, letting her head poke out just enough
to see the large doors.


With a horrendous creaking, the smaller door began to open. The girl
sighed with relief at the swiftness of their reactions as an old woman,
dressed in a black and white habit emerged from the door.


The nun cast a searching look around the immediate area before peering
down at the bundle that lay at her feet.


**Oh my child!**She said as she picked up the bundle with one arm,
briefly making the sign of the cross over the babe, before cradling it
firmly in both arms.


The hiding girl could just hear the nun mutter one or two short Latin
prayers as she stepped back through the door. Closing it firmly behind
her, the loud clunk of a sliding bolt could be heard, then----nothing.
Absolute silence returned to the night air.


The girls dark brown eyes shimmered as she read the name that was engraved
in gold across a large, stone beam just underneath its roof.


ST. CATHERINE’S ORPHONAGE OF CAIRO.


Tearing her gaze away from the words she pulled her attention once more to
the door through which her child had been taken


~ “Goodbye my little one.” ~ She whispered, then she turned on her heal at
ran off into the inky blackness, never looking back again.


* * *



Present day, Westchester, New York.



Ororo Munroe was leant against a tree that was on the hill overlooking the
Xavier Institute for Gifted Children.


With a leather-bound copy of Tolstoy’s ‘Anna Karenina’ in one hand and a
chilled bottle of mineral water in the other, she was enjoying a rare
afternoon off.


The day was sunny and just warm enough as to not be uncomfortable. There
was a fresh breeze running through the air, that had absolutely nothing to
do with the X-Men’s resident weather witch, that made the day near
perfect.


Ororo cast her eye over the mansion and surrounding grounds and smiled
contentedly. This really was the first true home she’d ever had in her
turbulent life.


She’d been at the mansion ever since fleeing from Africa at the age of
sixteen and happening to pick the pocket of a certain shade wearing young
man in New York City. Ever since that fateful meeting with Scott Summers
on a bitterly cold February morning she’d always had some degree of
happiness in her life.


Ororo had found a father in Professor Xavier, a brother and sister in
Scott and Jean. Even sons and daughters in the many students that had
passed through the hallways and classrooms of the Xavier Institute over
the years.


But no matter how much all of these filled her life there had always been
something---- missing.


Until he’d shown up, almost six years ago now, she’d never been able to
quite put her finger on what it was. It took them a while to realise it
but after four years of blindness, Ororo Munroe and the lose cannon known
as ‘the Wolverine’ had finally gotten their act together.


In fact, they’d recently celebrated their first wedding anniversary, with
a weekend in Paris. Not exactly Logan’s style, he had to be coaxed into
the idea by Marie, but he’d done it for the woman he loved.


Ororo set her book down at her side and thought about how pleasant the
break hand been. Who would have thought Logan had it in him to be so----so
romantic!


She chuckled softly as she leaned forwards, bringing both her arms up
above her head, clasping her hands together and stretching. She gave a
little yawn, surprising herself, maybe she was more tired than she’d
thought.


Gathering up her things, Ororo stood up, brushing a few stray blades of
grass from her skirt as she did so.


There was a slight rustle in the bushes behind her, not particularly loud,
but just audible enough. She was about to turn around to investigate when
the sound came again, ad this time she gave a knowing smile.


“You’re losing your touch my dear.” She said playfully with her back still
turned.


Just then the rustling became more pronounced as Logan emerged from the
foliage, spitting out a couple of small leaves that had somehow worked
their way into his mouth. He walked over to his wife, pulling one or two
twigs from his disarrayed hair and favouring her with a rare smile.


Planting a kiss on the back of her head, he wrapped his strong arms around
her waist. Pulling her in tighter to him as he rested his chin on her
shoulder.


“Yeah, I guess I am.” He laughed before kissing her again on the cheek.


Ororo brought her slender hand up, brushing it tenderly over his stubbled
chin, then running her fingers through his lamb-chops and into his hair.


“Come on, lets go and get some lunch.” She patted her hand at the back of
his head a couple of times affectionately and tried to move forwards. But
he wouldn’t release her, pulling her back towards him.


“Hey, I’ve got all the sustenance I need right here darlin’.” He said
seductively against her neck, kissing and nipping at the soft skin there.


Ororo laughed warmly in response, letting her head fall backwards against
his shoulder. Then she turned her face to the side, meeting his as he
lifted it from her neck. He moved in, tasting her lips with feather-light
kisses until she drew him in closer with her hand that had found its way
back into his hair.


Slowly breaking away, their faces still mere centimetres apart Ororo gazed
into her husbands hazel eyes. This close she could see clearly the flecks
of green that dotted them. It made her think of all the other things she
had seen in them over the years, first as a team mate, then as a lover and
eventually his wife.


Coldness, emptiness, ferociousness, anger----but also passion, compassion,
joy----love. That’s what she saw there now and it made her smile.


“Come on.” She repeated, moving away from him and reaching down to take
his hand in hers.


Together they strolled back down towards the mansion, talking about
nothing in particular, laughing softly at private jokes and in no hurry at
all to be in the company of others.


* * *



“Bobby, if ah’ve told you once, ah’ve told you a thousand times!” Marie
slammed the magazine she was holding down onto the kitchen table. “There
ain’t nothin’ goin’ on between me and that Cajun guy, O. K?!”


Bobby said nothing for a moment, he just looked over at his girlfriend
from his position sat at the opposite end of the table.


“I know what you’ve told me Rouge, but when I saw the two of you talkin’
in the garden it sure didn’t look like nothing to me.”


“Well fine Bobby, have it your way. If you’re gonna be a little kid about
this----“ Marie stopped abruptly, hers and Bobby’s heads snapping to the
doorway as Ororo and Logan entered the kitchen.


“Hey, hey, hey, what’s going on in here? Ororo asked, sounding genuinely
concerned. Logan did nothing more than snort in an amused manner as he
moved past his wife, opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. Ever since he’d
joined the team on a permanent basis he’d made but one stipulation in
condition to him remaining there. The fridge must always be stocked with
beer!


Marie and Bobby both looked slightly embarrassed as Ororo looked from one
to the other, waiting for one of them to say something.


“It’s---it’s nothin’ Ms. Munroe. Just a little misunderstanding.” Bobby
finally said, not taking his gaze from Marie the whole time.


Marie brought her head up, nervously brushing a lock of white hair from
her eyes with a gloved hand. She nodded at Ororo before verbally agreeing.
“ Yeah Ms. Munroe it’s nothin’. Like Bobby said----a misunderstandin’.”


Ororo looked once more at each one in turn, then smiled suspiciously. She
clearly didn’t believe a word but she was prepared to humour the pair.


“Alright then.” Logan suddenly interjected, then took a lengthy swig of
his beer. Once he’d finished he brought the back of his hand to his mouth
and wiped it across. Ororo rolled her eyes, shaking her head playfully at
her spouse’s characteristically uncouth manners. “ Now if you two’ve
finished yer lovers spat of whatever it was, me an’ ‘Ro would like to eat
in peace. If you don’t mind?”


Bobby stood swiftly from his chair as Marie rounded the table to stand
beside him.


“Yeah sure Logan, Ms. Munroe. We’ll get out of your way.” Bobby said
quickly as he replaced his chair back under the pine table.


“Logan!” Ororo chastised as she looked over at her husband. Turning back
to face the departing couple she said, almost apologetically, “Don’t mind
him, you can stay if you wish.”


Marie gave a short shake of her head, saying, “No really, it’s O.K Ms.
Munroe. We were leavin’ anyways.” Then she began to push lightly at
Bobby’s back, encouraging him towards the door.


They were half way out when Ororo suddenly called, “And by the way,” the
pair stopped, poking their heads back into the kitchen. “Don’t call me Ms.
Munroe. It’s Ororo, remember, you’re both X-Men now.” She smiled warmly at
them and they returned the sentiment fondly.


“O. K Ms--- ah mean Ororo.” With that they disappeared from the room.
They’d not even gotten halfway down the hall though before they resumed
their bickering.


All Ororo and Logan could do was laugh as he reopened the fridge,
examining the contents intently. She sat in the chair that Bobby had just
vacated.


Young love, would it ever get boring to witness it’s pitfalls and
mishaps?!


“So what do you fancy darlin’?” Logan inquired, his voice muffled as he
spoke into the fridge.


“Oh I don’t know, salad maybe?” She leant back in her chair, idly running
her long fingers through her loose hair.


In the distance she heard the faint sound of the doorbell chiming. For a
second she thought about going to answer it but then she thought no,
someone else could take care of it for a change. After all this was her
free time.


After what seemed like an eternity, Logan emerged from the refrigerator,
his arms loaded with various foodstuffs. Trotting over to the counter he
dropped the booty down and began to sort through what was for her and what
was for him. It soon became apparent, due to the discrepancy of the size
of each pile, which food was intended for who!


As Logan set about preparing their meal, Ororo gazed absently out of the
window, watching several of her students playing with a frizzbe.


It really did make what they did here seem worthwhile, to see societies
‘outcasts’ being able to enjoy their lives. It was days like this that
kept her, indeed all of them going.


She was suddenly distracted from the scenes outside by muffled voices
coming from down the hallway, apparently the main entrance. She could make
out Scott as one of the voices but couldn’t quite place the other. But she
was broken from her train of thought when Logan asked, “Dressing?”


“What?” She asked regaining her bearings.


“Dressing?” He repeated, holding up to sorts for her to choose from.


“Oh, um yes thanks. The lemon please.”


“Right you are.” Logan replaced the unwanted bottle back in the cupboard
above his head and unscrewed the cap from the other one.


Taking her concentration back to the voices in the hall she realised
they’d stopped. But she could hear the sound of dulled footfall on the
carpet, coming in their direction.


Scott appeared at the doorway almost instantly, a hint of worry seemed to
be set on his usually neutral features and made Ororo feel an odd concern.
What on earth could be the matter?


Scott glanced over at Logan, who still had his back turned, concentrating
on the task at hand. Then he looked down at Ororo. He opened his mouth to
speak, but hesitated slightly.


Now she really was worried. “What is it Scott?”


The tone of his wife’s voice made Logan stop what he was doing and pay
attention, his eyes immediately finding Scott at the door.


“There’s,” Scott began tentatively. “There’s someone here who says they
need to see you.”


“Who?” Ororo asked, utterly perplexed. She shot a confused look at Logan
behind her and then gave Scott the same expression.


“Urr---I think you’d better just come and meet them.” He stepped away from
the doorway, as if expecting her to follow.


Casting another glance at Logan, Ororo got up from her chair and proceeded
to leave the kitchen.


“Alright then.” She said gravely.


“You want me to come with you?” Logan offered. His face had darkened
considerably and he sounded cautious.


Ororo, now stood next to Scott, shook her head saying, “No, no you finish
lunch. I shouldn’t be long.”


Then she set off with Scott to meet her unexpected visitor.


-TBC-





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