Logan had followed the sound of the running water to the bathroom. The room was filled with steam, overflowing bath water but no Ororo.
You want me? Fucking, come and find me.
Just that message etched on the steamed covered mirror. Logan, grit his teeth trying his best to contain his seething rage she was always one step ahead of him.
After all of his months of diligently tracking her and careful preparations, she knew he was here. There would be no more hiding. He was going to find her and she was going to pay. Even if he had to break every god damn door down.
“Yeah, I’ll fucking come and find you,” he growled and stormed out into the hallway, none too quietly.
***
She supposed that he expected her to be at her vanity, fresh from a bath, brushing out her hair, gently rubbing cream into her hands. Ororo sat in the softly lit office, sipping on her tea. She closed her eyes, a smug smile played on her lips as she heard each locked door in the house being kicked in. He was getting closer.
Yeah, he’d find her. And she’d be waiting.
***
The first thing he saw was the sparkle of her blue eyes as she turned her head away from the glaring hallway lights. Ororo sat in an oversized chair, crossing her long legs caused the short dark purple bathrobe that was pulled tightly around her body to rise just a bit.
“ ‘Ro,” his voice was raw, cold and deadly. It was the first time he had said her name aloud since that night. That night she had stuck him like a pig and left him to die like a dog.
She gave his appearance the once over as he stood still at the threshold. He wore black boots, faded jeans, with a black t-shirt. His hair, the same unruly mess she had remembered running her finger through. His face, still carried the same handsome rugged lines, but it was contorted in a look of hatred.
“Logan,” Ororo said his name with such an airy ease as if she was simply greeting a business client to come in and have a seat. She titled her head squinting her eyes to get a better look of the scar that traced over the side of his neck. As though it had some how piqued her interest a soft “Hmm…” escaped her lips. She took another sip of her tea.
Finally, Logan was face to face with Ororo, she was within a few feet of his reach. The sound of his name from her voice nearly drove him to the brink of insanity. He remembered how much he had loved her, how she made his body throb and heart ache. And how badly, this woman had destroyed him, now he was nothing. Logan saw her eyeing the scar. His eyes glared disgust at her lack of remorse.
“Fuck, ‘Ro!” All restraint gone, removing a hunting knife from the belt of his pants, he lunged for her.
As soon as he had crossed the threshold into the room, he felt a sting in his neck. Logan fell to his knees. A second sting to his neck, the knife fell from his hand. Logan was on his back, motionless. His eyes searched the room. There were two motion sensory devices placed at each corner of the ceiling. He heard the saucer and tea cup being placed on the table. She was coming for him. Logan closed his eyes in disbelief. He never had a chance.
Ororo slowly stood up and walked toward Logan. She watched as his breathing changed from a hurried pace to a much slower relaxed one. His chest rose and fell slowly. She kneeled down next to him and removed both darts from his neck.
“Motion sensory tranquilizers. Don’t worry, you will live,” She tossed the darts over her shoulder. Her voice was soft. “I always make a point of that.” Her hands gently traced the scar on his neck.
Logan’s eyes snapped opened. It had felt as if every muscle in his body was slowly melting. He was completely immobilized and struggled to even speak. When he did, he only had one word to say, one question that needed to be answered.
“Why?” he groaned, staring coldly into her eyes.
Ororo took her hand away from his scar. She sighed deeply and turned away from his stare.
“WHY?!” Logan asked again with even more force than either of them expected.
Ororo placed her fingers on his scar again, looking almost somber. Logan turned his eyes away from her. Her touch was like acid. It burned him. Ororo turned his head, so that he was looking at her once again. She smiled softly at him.
“Logan, understand that the time we spent together are one of my most cherished moments. You made me feel passion, desire and I suppose maybe even love.”
Ororo’s soft smile turned grim.
“But when it all came down to it, you were a loose end that needed to be tied.”
Ororo weaved her fingers through his hair.
“I want you to know that what happened, what I did was an act of compassion. You are still alive because of what I had to do.”
Logan so badly wished that he could have moved. He would have spat in Ororo’s face after hearing her tired ass explanation.
Ororo saw the look of loathing in his eyes.
“I know you do not believe me. I could care less. There are much bigger things in this world, Logan, than you and I.”
With that, she leaned over and kissed his lips. Logan had no choice in the matter of refusing. He lied there, on the floor motionless. Her lips tasted like peppermint tea, the more he drank them in, the darker the room became, until everything went black.
The peppermint tea was laced with a sedative Ororo had built an immunity against. As soon as Logan was unconscious, she stood and walked away from his side. She reached for her cell phone at the desk nearby. She dialed a number. It rang once before it was answered.
Code name?
“Storm.”
Handler?
“Fury.”
Request?
“Immediate extraction.”
Ororo shut the phone. She gave Logan’s still body a last glance before stepping over him and leaving the room.
