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Chapter.2.



Arms and legs pulled as tense as they could go as Ororo stretched out on the king sized bed, resisting the urge to open her eyes for that little bit longer. The soft cream sheets where gloriously warm against her naked body and the mattress was surprisingly comfortable considering it was obviously quite old. Its only determent was that it squeaked---horrendously. Not that either her or Logan really cared that much about that last night whilst they’d...‘worked off’ their jet-lag. And the contented sleep that had given her, made her feel extremely refreshed and bright for the day ahead. Whilst she lay there she noticed the remarkable difference from last night in terms of the noise coming in through the wide open window. But it was odd; the silence was still complete and tranquil but the songs of birds and buzzing of insects seemed to float above it, riding its wave. It was a surprisingly mild for an early-April day in the Scottish highlands.


Stretching out again so that her slender back concaved on itself in a graceful arch, she yawned, suddenly taking in scents that where coming from downstairs; the smell of food. Quite delicious food aromas in fact, that were drifting up from the kitchen. It was more than enough incentive for her to leap out of bed, snatching up Logan’s plaid shirt that had been carelessly thrown aside in the early hours of the morning, landing precariously over the bedside lamp. Slipping quickly into its soft, thick material, enveloped in the warm scent of spent cigar smoke, Ororo padded quickly downstairs to see what he was up to.


*

The kitchen was an absolute mess with dirty pots and pans on its clear glossed wooden counters and thoughtlessly ripped, empty packets on the central pine table as well as the sideboards. Ororo picked one of the plastic packets up absently as she walked further into the room, turning it over in her hands. Idly she wished she’d put her slippers on as the flooring, which was constructed of the same square slabs of steely grey stone that adorned the living room, was extremely cold on the souls of her feet. But then she soon put it right; the minimum of concentration needed merely to regulate her body temperature, raising it just enough so that more blood ran down to the feet in order to warm them by a degree or two. Placing the used oat packet back down, she turned her attention to the huge black stove that was tucked into an alcove to the right of the table, on the wall that ran opposite the window and sink unit. It was a massive iron contraption, the type that had a funnel at the top, running up into a flume and had a wood burning fire set in its bottom to heat it. A wicker basket stood at its side, full to the brim with dried logs and the odd twig for kindling. The small thick door stood half open and orange glowing embers nestled in the bottom of its oven, indicating that it had been used very recently; the heat that poured from it as Ororo neared it being quite stifling just within its proximity.


“Out here ‘Ro.” Logan’s voice startled her slightly, her hand coming to her chest like a reflex as her head whipped in its approximate direction. It sounded as if it were coming from the back of the house. So quickly she made her way back into the living room, which she’d had to go through to get to the kitchen. She smiled as she saw Logan through the windows at the other side of the stairs. He held his hand up and waved it towards him, beckoning her out into the back garden.


#This is going to be a treat!#, she thought to herself as she padded over to the small arched doorway next to the window which led into a beautifully decorated dinning room. There was a heavy wooden door at the end of the terracotta space which was wide open, letting in copious amounts of bright natural light, indicating it was the opening which led out onto the garden. With the loose and long arms of her lover’s shirt flapping about the ends of her engulfed hands, Ororo swiftly made her way outside.


*


It was a glorious sight that greeted the weather Goddess in more ways than one. There was nothing more pleasing than to see ones man having laid out a sumptuous feast for breakfast but even more so when it was against the stunning backdrop of towering lush green hills and clear blue skies. The Kestrels were still calling and somewhere in the distance a river rushed furiously as Ororo sashayed over to Logan, willingly giving herself to his open arms. He wrapped them around her possessively, his hands finding purchase on her hip and the small of her back. Not a word was uttered as he leant in and took her lips, gently cajoling her lips apart to slip his tongue beyond their beautifully rounded barriers. She sighed with pleasure against him; the sleeves of ‘her’ shirt falling down her arms as she reached up and cupped his strong, rough jaw line. The stiff hair of his stubble and lamb-chops tickled at her fingers as she pulled him in closer, delving her tongue with as much want as he. But when their pelvises came into contact with the unbridled deepening of the kiss, the feel of his rapidly growing erection pressing against her urged her to pull back. He groaned in jest as she took her lips from his, attempting, in vain, to bring her back in.


With her nimble hands sliding like silk around to the nape of his neck she turned her head to the side to look down at the round garden table that was laden with much more food than either of them would be able to consume within one sitting. Though she wasn’t about to gripe at the fact. It wasn’t everyday Logan got busy in the kitchen; this was an event as rare as the passing of Hailey’s Comet and she’d be damned if she was going to pass it up. Wolverine wasn’t exactly the type of male that could be described as a...New Man.


“Looks tasty.” She said, running her eyes over the plates and dishes all set out and brimming.


“Not as tasty as somethin’ else ‘round here.” He whispered huskily against her cheek before laying his lips on her once more and working his way back down to her mouth, with soft, reverent pecks that made delicate smacking sounds against her fragrant skin. But with a laugh she pulled away again, hitting him lightly in amusement. Going over to the table she took up the closest chair to her and dragged it forwards, tucking her long shapely legs under the table.


“Food first.” She looked up at him with a sly smile before drawing a bowl of hot oats and fruit towards her and plucking a gleaming spoon from the tray that sat in the centre. “Did you go into the village?”


“Nope.” Logan said quickly as he scooted around to the chair beside her, leaning in to brush a quick kiss on her cheek as he went by. “They’d put a few things in the kitchen fer us.” He snatched up a piece of toast and devoured at least half in one mouthful, crunching on the warm, crisp bread noisily.


“Is there much left?”


He shook his head and swallowed the mouthful. “No---we’ll have ta go down into the village later.” Licking off some butter and crumbs from his thumb, he reached over and picked up a large clear glass jug of pure orange juice; pouring Ororo a tumbler full and then doing the same for himself.


“No Irish coffee this morning?” She inquired as she watched the sun-set yellow liquid slosh down into the tumbler, then she cast him a mischievous look from the corner of her eye to which he simply returned a similar one. “Okay,” She nodded and took a sip from her tall straight glass, diverting back to the original thread of their conversation “After this we’ll go into Glen Branloch, get what we need and then maybe have a quick look around? Then I thought we could go for hike. Moira said there were some wonderful walks around here when we spoke last week.”


Logan nodded, his mouth munching on his second slice of toast, which he then finished in two similarly giant bites as the first. Wiping his hands together, brushing off the more persistent buttery crumbs, he said, “Sure, sounds good.”


Happy that their morning and afternoon were planned out, Ororo carried on with her breakfast, spooning out the soft, steaming oats with wild red and purple berries and sweet, sliced Bramley apples. “Umm---this is delicious.” She crooned, pointing her silver table spoon down at her bowl. “Why, after all these months have I only just found out that you’re a dab hand in the kitchen?”


He cocked an eyebrow at her, his glass held up close to his lips ready to take a sip, “It’s porridge with bits o’ fruit,” He intoned dryly, “it’s hardly cordon bleu darlin’.”
She pulled a face at him and stuck out her pink tongue slightly, making him laugh; she never did cute things like that when Scooter, Jeannie and Chuck were around. Always Miss-Mature-and-Sensible-Shoes when she was at the school, but get her away from it and she was like a different person almost; relaxed and alive. He adored her most when she was like this, well, he adored her all the time but alone together he could enjoy a side to her that nobody else ever saw. It was all his and that made him feel privileged, special almost that the woman that most of the students in the mansion snidely called the ‘Ice Queen’ was to him the most warm and loving person in the world.


“Well, I still think it’s lovely.” She spooned in another mouthful and then swallowing it quickly, asked, “But you do realise what this means don’t you?”


“What?” His dark brow furrowed with good natured suspicion. He knew exactly what she kind of lame joke she was going to crack.


“I’ll be expecting this every morning when we get back to the mansion!”


“Hmph! In yer dreams darlin’.”


Ororo laughed as she ran her spoon around the bowl to scrape up the last of the porridge, “What’s the matter? Don’t you want the kids to see you in your piny cooking up a storm?!” He growled and that simply made her laugh again. With the full spoon still in hand she stood from her chair and went over to Logan. He leant back on the forest green iron garden chair as she swung her leg over to the other side of his body so that she could straddle his lap. “Try it.” She put the utensil to his lips that were quirked into a reluctant grin; his greenish hazel eyes fixed on her intensely as he sat with his arms folded high over his hard, muscular chest. Slowly, without ever taking his gaze from her, he opened his mouth and let her slip the spoon beyond his lips. She tilted it upwards as she began to draw it back out, making sure he got the whole mouthful.


As Logan swallowed it down he unfolded his arms and ran his hands along her naked thighs until they crept underneath the hem of his shirt that she was wearing. He wasn’t too surprised, as he found his way to her rear, that she wasn’t wearing any knickers. The dull heat that had started in his crotch when she’d first straddled him suddenly turned up by a notch...or ten. He clenched his hands on each buttock making the scent of desire that was already streaming from her become thick and heady. So much so that he could almost taste it on the tip of his tongue over the sweet tingle of the wild berries that still lingered slightly. As his rough hands held onto her toned rear, his finger tips brushing slightly against the space between, she flinched in pleasure.


“How about we just stay here fer the day?” The whisper was enticing and low; for a moment she thought about agreeing.


“We can’t.” She chided softly.


“Who says?” His eyes were still locked onto hers from beneath his brow; alight with a sexily dangerous gleam. “If I had my way we’d stay here all weekend.” He leant into her, kissing the exposed patch of her chest, just above where the last button was done up at the top of her cleavage, “...all week...” He whispered and then kissed her again, a little lower this time, “...all month...” His tongue flicked out, slipping down in between the small amount her breasts that were available to his attentions, “...all year...” That was so insubstantial that she barely heard it. She closed her eyes and licked at her lower lip a little as she felt him somehow undoing the offending top button with some interesting manipulations of his tongue. The shirt fell open, not completely but enough for Logan to get at what he was after; the touch of his mouth on her skin becoming hard and greedy where once it had been soft.



Ororo gasped softly when with a sudden jerk he violently pulled her further into his lap, letting her feel for herself the extent of his arousal as it pressed between her open legs. She gripped at his shoulders as he took his mouth from her breasts and tilted his head up as she leant down to take each others lips in a kiss that was at first lingering and careful but soon became consuming and needy. As she drew her arms around his neck, locking them about it tighter she delighted inside at the feel of his right hand slipping along her skin, leaving her buttock, rubbing over the top of her thigh to slide along its inside. She felt her legs start to quiver as slowly his fingers brushed forwards, making teasing little patterns as they crept towards her sex. The sensation was making it hard for her to concentrate on the intimate dance of their tongues and his actions encouraged her to roll her hips forwards inadvertently, eager for him to caress her in the way she knew he was going to. Those fingers of his were nothing short of magic when the inclination took him. To her relief her prayers were swiftly answered; the brief but agonising wait was over as he slid two fingers along the soft lips of her vagina; his touch utterly exquisite.


“Huh”uh!” A gasped moan caught on Ororo’s lips as her body shook and both of her hands grasped generous handfuls of his T-shirt in reflex; the plain black material bunching up tensely in her desperate fists. The stifled noise came again; their mouths still touching but no longer kissing as he pushed those two thick fingers into her, nudging against her clitoris before pinching it between them and teasing it back and forth mercilessly. Before she had chance to cry out at the action Logan caught her mouth with his again, kissing her with the same rhythm that his fingers moved in and out of her. His other hand moved down from her pert arse and tugged down the waist line of his jogging bottoms, quickly freeing his erection from its constraint.


Ororo broke from their kiss and threw her head back as deftly he removed his fingers from her now extremely slick opening and took a firm hold of her hips. With one movement he brought her forwards, shoving his penis into her as he pulled her down. He shuddered as he filled her to the hilt, the feel of her clenching around him making him call on all his reserve not to climax there and then. But before he had chance to get his bearings again, the lead in their liaison was taken from him as she started to move in a gentle motion against him, drawing his cock in and out of her with a fluid roll of her lower body.


Logan groaned; his jaw tensely clenched as his head lulled back slightly and his eyes closed tight, trying to hold on as he was assaulted by every sense he possessed with the essence of her in the throws of desire; her moist heat slipping like silk over his dick only to cruelly pull back, but not before tightening around it and sending a blinding rush of pleasure through his whole body. His hands gripped at her hips as she rode him with her own hands clasped over the top of his.


“Ahh....yes, yes, yes...” She whispered softly as with the aide of him physically pulling her down on him with heated impatience she sped up her movements; turning them more into swift back and forth juts rather than delicate rolls.


“Grrrr---fuck---argh fuck...” He growled as he took one hand from digging into her sweat damp thigh and feverishly ran it up her body; grasping in his clumsy passion at her breasts before reaching further up and sinking it into her hair at the back of her head. As he felt himself ready to come he lifted his hips up just enough to push into her that little bit harder; the movement making the metal chair scrape piercingly back and forth on the cobbled patio stones.


Ororo’s head was suddenly yanked back as when Logan finally came he automatically gripped at her hair, more forcefully than he’d perhaps meant to; control of any of his body’s actions quite beyond him at that point in time. But it didn’t bother her as she stopped moving too, her orgasm temporally setting her in a kind of ecstasy induced paralysis. After a moment of brilliant white bliss her body shuddered again, the familiar second wave hitting her at the perfect moment. She sighed contentedly through harsh breaths; the only sound that both of them were aware of in the naturally thick silence of the picturesque glen.


“Now that’s what I call breakfast.” He joked, his voice husky as it tore through the quiet. She gave an exhausted laugh, as much as she could, as her head bowed forwards to rest against his; their foreheads touching. Slowly, Ororo started to pull back, feeling her own juices spilling out onto her thigh along with his as his cock withdrew.


“We should go and clean up.” She suggested as she climbed off him, using the hem the red and black shirt to catch the worst of it. “We can finish this after.” Tossing a look at the table from over shoulder she thought it would be a shame to waste it since he’d obviously gone to so much trouble.


“Sure.” Putting himself back into his pants, he followed after her back into the cottage. As they crossed over the threshold his eyes fixed on the shapeliness of Ororo’s figure, highlighted by the flattering fall of the baggy shirt, draping gracefully over all the curves that mattered. “Damn healing factor.” He grumbled to himself as he felt his erection quickly returning so soon after being spent. It was the bein of his life when such delicious temptation stood in his view at all times.


“What?” She asked, throwing a sexy smile back at him as they passed into the living room. She’d heard what he’d said perfectly well and one look at his pants told her what the gripe was about.


“Ya don’t wanna know beautiful.” He said with a slightly tortured look at that teasing smile that she purposely flashed him again, “Ya don’t wanna know.” He repeated, readjusting his crotch much to her amusement.


* * *


After finally finishing their breakfast the couple took a stroll down into the village. The path was straight-forwards enough, there was no real was way that they could have veered off and gotten lost. Glen Branloch itself was just as beautiful as Ororo had imagined it would be, dry stoned walls lined the winding roads and lanes, the cottages were made of the same local material, there was a wonderfully gothic style medieval church just off the village square. On the outer edge, just along the path of their approach there was a Mill-house with a beautiful pond, lined around its boarders with duck weed and a huge working mill wheel turning round and round just for rustic effect rather than industrial practicality. But it was a pleasing sight none-the-less. All the way down the centre of the village ran a small river, with several small stone arching bridges located at various points across it.


They’d found the local food shop with ease but decided to leave the purchasing until after they’d had a walk around. Whilst Ororo had been fascinated by the dribs and drabs of history that could be seen all around on ancient monuments, the weathered grave stones in the pretty church-yard or simply remembrances carved into trees by long dead lovers, Logan had reacted to it with the same enthusiasm as he had the cottage. He was just glad to see that she was enjoying herself, although he did have in the back of his mind the idea of the hike that she’d suggested over breakfast. That was definitely much more his type of thing. Chocolate-box villages didn’t really do it for him.


After a relaxed morning of wondering around Ororo suggested that they should stop at the tea rooms they’d passed close to the Mill house. Logan had thought the pub Dougie had mentioned would be a much better idea. A stern look had told him that that was not on the agenda, at least not at twelve o’clock in the afternoon. Somewhat reluctantly he agreed.


*


“So that’s one green tea an’ a black coffee?”


“Extra strong black coffee.” Logan corrected the waitress. If he couldn’t get his whiskey fix then a triple dose of the strongest caffeine he could find would have to do for now.


“Right yae are.” She said with a suppressed smirk and then turning to Ororo, asked, “Anythin’ else hen?”


“No, that’ll be all thanks.”


“I’ll be back in two ticks.” With that the petite blonde left the table and went back around the other side of the counter to make the drinks. As soon as she’d gone Logan reached across the table and took Ororo’s hands in his as they rested, loosely balled into one another over the red and white checked cloth. She had been looking at the view from the panoramic window they’d sat down at, but turned her head, with a soft slow smile, to face him as she felt his warm touch.


“What’re ya thinkin’ about?”


She inclined her head thoughtfully, watching his thumb tracing small circles on the creamy chocolate back of her hand. “How nice this is.” She replied softly, the words almost a sigh.


Logan gave a rare and elusive warm smile as he brought her hands up to his lips in the sure cradle of his and planted a small kiss where they clasped together, issuing it to both at once. “Shame we couldn’t have got Chuck to give ya the whole week off.”


“I know, but I’m needed there.”


“You’re needed here.” The joke was only half serious, but she laughed it off anyway.


“We can’t expect the three of them to cope on their own for a week.” She admonished, “We’re taking in more students by the week. If this keeps up the mansions going to be fit to burst.”


“Well I know Rogue wants to stay on after she’s graduated at the end of the school year---Bobby too.”


“Since when?”


Logan shrugged off-handily. “She mentioned it---couple o’ weeks ago I think.”


“That’s great.” She beamed, genuinely pleased that the pair had decided to stay on, goddess knows they needed the extra hands.


“Yeah,” he nodded, obviously happy as well that the girl he considered a kind of foster daughter had decided to stay on, despite having regained her confidence enough to have led a fairly normal life in ordinary human society, “an’ she said she was thinkin’ of gettin’ in touch with her parents too.”


“That would be good for her.” Ororo replied thoughtfully, “It has been nearly three years now. So many of the kids haven’t got that opportunity.”


Logan made a vague noise of agreement and then shifted forwards, the seriousness lightening a little, “But anyway, let’s ferget about the school, the kids and enjoy ourselves---that’s why were here darlin’.”


“Of course my love.” Leaning in, she was about give him a quick kiss, not being able to resist when he was being unusually sweet, but was stopped mid action when the waitress, Shirley, returned with their orders.


“One green tea and an---extra strong---coffee.” The young blonde in the terribly unflattering pee green skirt and green and white striped shirt,(her rather unfortunate uniform), set the cups down in front of their respective owners. “Ay’d offer yae a wee ‘nip with that if ay could, hen,” she said in a playfully conspiratorial whisper to Logan, “but it’s against house rules.”


Logan smiled up at her, almost kindly. “S’alright---I’ll wait ‘till later thanks.”


“Are yae here on holiday then or jus’ passin’ through?”


“Holiday,” Ororo nodded, “Just for the weekend.”


“Oh, that’s nice.” The girl replied with sincere enthusiasm, “We don’t usually get many tourists at this time of year. So, where’s home for yae?”


“New York.”


“Ooo, very cosmopolitan!” At that point they, moreover Logan, was hoping she’d go and leave them to it. There was no real malice there; she seemed a nice enough girl but it felt like the conversation was turning into a game of twenty questions. But, unfortunately, she continued, obviously a little excited to be conversing with people from a little further a-field than England or perhaps simply polite. “Where abouts are yae stayin’ ‘round here?”


“A cottage, just outside the village---up in the glen.” Ororo informed her patiently; her fuse wasn’t as short as Logan’s. Which was the reason that she was a teacher and he decided it would be best for him to keep out of that hornets nest altogether and limit himself to mansion maintenance.


The waitress seemed to stop, a slight but definite change in her manner; her genial smile slipping...just a fraction. “Darkness Falls.” Her voice suddenly sounded a little...flat.


Ororo turned to Logan wit a questioning look, trying to remember the name of the cottage, or if indeed they’d been told it in the first place. Turning back to the girl, she gave a tiny shrug and a slight shake of the head, “I’m not sure what it’s called to be honest,” She narrowed her dark eyes slightly while she paused to think again and then a detail about the place came back to her. Something she’d noticed when they’d arrived last night but she hadn’t thought about until now. “There was a plaque above the door, it had a date on it...fifteen---fifteen ninety-six I think.”


“Fifteen ninety-six.” The girl repeated lightly as if to herself and then she flicked her eyes back up to Storm and nodded, “Ay, that’s the place.”


“SHIRLEY!” The waitress whirled around in complete surprise as her name was shouted aloud over the frequent clinking sounds and soft, rumbling chatter of the tea room patrons. A middle aged woman with loosely curled dark shoulder length hair, tied back in a pony tail close to the nape of her neck had her head sticking out from the doorway that led into the kitchens. “If yae’ve stopped gassin’ lass, yae might notice we’ve got a cafe full of customers that need servin’!”


“Sorry Morag.” She responded, a little flustered and then turned back to Ororo and Logan. “Sorry about that, ay do let my mouth run away with me sometimes,” She laughed, although it appeared to be almost forced, as if trying to shake that shift that had come over her when Ororo had mentioned the cottage. “Well I hope yae enjoy yer stay.” And then she was quickly off, nipping behind the counter and offering sunny hellos to an old couple who where waiting to be served.


“She was nice.” Ororo remarked fondly.


“Nosey.” Logan replied dryly with a cock of his eyebrow.


She narrowed her eyes at him but also gave him a smile threw pursed lips, “Don’t be so cruel!” Tapping his hand she couldn’t help but laugh at his fairly typical attitude. “The poor girl was only trying to make us feel welcome.”


“Whatever.” As he uttered the throwaway comment he picked up his mug and took a sip but his mind was elsewhere. His eyes shifted for a spit second to the girl behind the counter as he thought. Ororo may not have noticed the minute change in her demeanour but he couldn’t help but. He was always constantly aware of just the most mundane feature of a person, when they lied, when they were suppressing anger or anything else and especially when they were emitting fear. That was a particularly potent odour that he never missed or read wrong because it was so overwhelmingly sickly. It concerned him for a moment but he quickly pushed it to the back of his mind. Like he’d said to Ororo before; they were here to relax and enjoy themselves, so he wasn’t about to worry himself about it. It was probably just yokel-local types doing what they’re best at; being stupidly superstitious of places that had local legends and myths attached to them. No matter where one went in the world, it was inevitable that you’d come across at least one. So he ignored it.



* * *


The time was only four thirty in the afternoon but darkness was already descending over the country side; the muted blue/grey of an early winter time Scottish dusk hanging in the sky like an opaque lampshade. After the tea rooms, Logan and Ororo had spent some more time browsing and then gone to the small shop that was in the centre of the single row of shops on the main street. They’d decided that the hike they’d talked about at breakfast could wait until tomorrow and that there were more...interesting things they could be doing with their time.


“You okay with that?”


Ororo glanced to the side at him and tutted. “It’s only a grocery bag---I’m sure I can cope.” She jested.


“Jus’ tryin’ ta be a gentleman darlin’, that’s all.”


At that, she laughed outright, “I could think of many things to describe you as Logan, but ‘gentleman’ would certainly not be one of the first adjectives that would spring to mind!”


“Hmph! Charmin’!” He said with mock indignity. “Remind me ta ferget about Valentines day when it comes around, will ya.”


“Oh, you wouldn’t dare!” She gasped and then chuckled. Opening her mouth to offer further playful assault, Ororo was stopped when she saw a man coming along the road towards them. She quickly converted to a genial smile as he neared them but it quickly developed into one of curiosity as his image became clearer through the burgeoning gloom. The stranger was tall, one could almost say gangling; his near deathly pallor emphasised by the sharp black lines of his moustache and finely trimmed goatee and shock of similarly dark black hair that hung almost shoulder length. Added to that the long, dark trench-coat that turned his body into a substantial, solid ‘apparition’; he cut a striking figure on first sight.


“Evening.” The man said cordially and nodded to the pair as came not more than a few yards away. At first, it seemed he would go straight past them, having offered his friendly greeting but then he halted, making them feel obliged to stop as well. Rather unexpectedly the stranger suddenly offered out his hand to Logan.


But Logan being Logan, first he looked down at it; long and thin, even within its black leather covering, and then lifted his dark gaze up to its owner. Only then did he accept it; reaching for it with a deliberate slowness, his face a hard mask.


“Branwell Ramnicu Valcea Branloch.” His voice was rich and clear as he spoke his rather over convoluted name, the Scotch accent definitely there but very different from those in the village, less thick suggesting that he was perhaps from further south, Edinburgh maybe.


“Logan.” As he replied, in a fairly curt, monosyllabic manner he took his hand from the strangers grasp, letting it drop to his side. The instantaneous dislike was completely clear for all to see; a feeling made all the worse when he then turned his attention onto Ororo.


“Ororo Munroe.” She said as she too took the hand that was offered to her, thinking to herself that it was either quite strange that his last surname was that of the village or that it was just a pretty amazing coincidence.


“You’re just visiting Glen Branloch?” The question was general but he still had his pair of almost acridly green eyes on Ororo. Fixing her with a familiarity that was unbecoming for someone she’d just met.


“Yeah.” Logan cut in before Storm got chance to say anything, kidding himself that he was becoming increasingly annoyed simply because the locals didn’t seem to know how to keep to themselves. But it wasn’t that, though he couldn’t quite pin-point what exactly it was that had set his well-tuned alarm bells ringing...


Eventually, the man tore his unnervingly...potent eyes from Ororo, resuming a somewhat casual, if not assured aspect. “Ay hope you enjoy your stay,” he said first to Logan and then turning back to Storm there was a slight pause, “...’an you Miss.” And then he was off, his heals clicking soundly against the grey asphalt of the road that lead into Glen Branloch as they watched after him.


Ororo pouted her lips a little before turning to Logan with a creased brow as if to say ‘that was slightly weird’, but he was still watching that man go, only looking away once he’d disappeared around the bend in the road. “Logan?”


“Come on,” He muttered as he slowly tore his gaze away, “Let’s get back.” Trying to push the uneasy feeling that was creeping over him to the back of his mind, he wrapped his free arm around Ororo’s shoulder, pulling he close as they carried on up the path, heading back for the cottage before the light faded completely.


-TBC-


Thank-you to everyone who reviewed chapter one, I was genuinely amazed at the response! Hope this one was as much fun...and yep, call me Sally Smut, but I couldn’t resist...even in a horror story, lol! xx





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