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In the skies above Massachusetts
Blackbird


“How ya doin’, darlin’?”
“Same as I was thirty seconds ago, love.” Ororo said, casting Logan an impish smile over her shoulder. He was seated directly behind her co-pilot’s chair and every once in a while she’d hear a faint -Snikt- as he extended and retracted his claws. He was agitated she knew, concern for her etched on his ruggedly handsome face. Xavier had called from England and released her from medical leave three days ago. This was the first mission she was going on with them since the attack.
She was lucky to be going, it had taken some serious cajoling on her part to convince Scott not to inform the professor of her stunt in the lake, and he had only agreed after she swore never to do something that reckless again. She had agreed, of course, not planning on making herself a human popsicle again any time soon.
The team was now headed for Boston where a group of mutants was having a not so friendly debate with a group of anti-mutant activists. Although saddened by the state of mutant relations Ororo was glad to be back in the field. She was never one to sit on the sidelines. Her reinstatement to active wasn’t the only thing making her happy, she reflected. She glanced back over her shoulder at Logan, who was staring out the window. She and Logan had set a date for the wedding last night, two weeks from tomorrow on May 21. She couldn’t believe it when he had told her he wanted to be wed as soon as possible, that he couldn’t wait one more day to make her his wife. They had compromised a trip to Vegas for a two week date. Looking at him now she was reconsidering that trip to Vegas. Goddess, she loved him!
Logan looked forward, catching her eye. “Are ya sure yer feeling up to this? Ya shouldn’t be pushin’ yerself-- Jesus!” Logan exclaimed as the Blackbird rolled, turning a full 360 degrees, banking right.
“Storm.” Cyclop’s said sternly, but his voice held a hint of laughter.
“Sorry, Wolverine, what was that?” she asked sweetly.
“Funny, darlin’.” Wolverine hid his grin. It was good to see her like this. On a mission Ororo was a strong leader, a good commander and an excellent fighter. Sometimes she let that weigh her down to the point of seeming cold and impersonal, but today she seemed lighter, almost playful.
Thinking of her as playful brought back memories of the previous night. She had surprised him while he was in the shower, head bent, hot water cascading over his tired shoulders, lost in thought. He had jumped when he felt her supple hands slide across his back, nails raking gently. This had caused her to laugh lightly. It was exceedingly rare that anyone was able to sneak up on him, but since he had been daydreaming about her at the time, it really wasn’t all that shocking that she had pulled it off. She was in his thoughts constantly, every minute of every day.
Ororo had turned him around, dropping to her knees, teasing him with her mouth as the steaming water poured over their bodies. He had jerked back groaning, hands tangling in her thick hair as she tortured him with her sweet mouth. He had watched her mouth move on him with eyes heavy lidded from passion. She had looked up at him beneath dark lashes, tongue darting out, licking the head of his fully engorged flesh. He had growled deep in his throat, yanking her to her feet.
Logan had slammed her against the mint green tiles of the shower wall, lifting her high, impaling her in one forceful thrust. She had cried out his name in that sexy bedroom voice of hers, driving him mad, arching against him. She had wrapped her legs around him, kissing him hungrily, teeth nipping, drawing blood. That had only made him more aggressive, grunting as he thrust in and out of her, rolling his hips, making her sob with pleasure.
“Logan, ahhh, Goddess, Logan!” she had cried, clutching his slick shoulders riding out her orgasm. He had clamped his teeth against the tender meat of her neck, groaning, grinding against her. She had sagged against him, but he had been far from through with her. Shoving aside the shower curtain he placed her in front of him, turning her so that she bent over the sink, her tender flesh swollen and pink under his palm as he ran one hand between her legs, spreading them wide.
“Yer so wet, darlin’.” he had growled in her ear, inserting two blunt fingers inside her hot sheath. She had arched her back, rubbing her sweetly curve ass against him.
“And you’re so hard,” she’d panted.
His steel eyes had gone black, he knew because he could see them in the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. “Look at us, ‘Ro.” He had turned her towards the mirror, standing behind her, running his large hands up her sides, over her ribcage, cupping the generous underside of her breasts. “Yer so damn gorgeous.”
She had moaned, tilting her head back, resting the back of it against his shoulder as he toyed with her, caressing her. She had gasped his name as he entered her from behind, pushing her forwards until she buckled, on her knees on the small tan and green carpet in front of their reflections in the mirror. The sight was completely erotic. Logan had pounded into her, his eyes never leaving hers in the reflection until the end, when he threw his head back, a guttural groan rushing out of him as he spilled his seed into her, his warm liquid filling her.
Then she had said the words he never tired of hearing from her. “I love you.” she had said. “I love you.”
“Ahem, Logan.” Jean nudged him, her face flushed.
“Sorry.” He gave her a wicked grin that said just the opposite.
“Oh my, Ororo.” Jean laughed, fanning her face with her hand.
“What?” Ororo turned in her seat looking at Jean curiously.
“Nothin’, darlin’. Red’s just peeking where she don’t need ta be.” Wolverine said with a smirk.
*Peeking? Logan you were broadcasting!*
“We’re here.” Scott said, preventing any further conversation, leveling off the Blackbird. Below in the streets there were overturned vehicles, fires blazing and several fights going on.
“Here we go.” Wolverine snapped off his belt, rising to his feet. He leaned over Ororo giving her a quick hard kiss. “Ready?”
“Just try and keep up,” she teased.
The hanger door opened with a whoosh and instantly the cabin was filled with smoke from the car fires and the smell of burning rubber. Ororo pushed her arms forward, sending the offensive haze back out of the jet.
A glass bottle smashed against the plane, shards tinkering to the pavement. “No more Muties!” A voice hollered.
“Ah, the welcome wagon!” -SNIKT-
“Wolverine, you and Jean take the northern end of the square, Storm and I will handle the crowd out here.”
To which Wolverine replied, “I’ll stay with Storm.”
“Wolverine, with Jean.” Ororo said, pointing north. She knew what Scott was doing and he was absolutely correct in doing it. It was hard enough to concentrate in hostile situations, made harder when you were constantly worried for another person.
“Let’s go, Wolverine.” Jean said, taking his arm, tugging him away from the plane. He growled but complied, striding off in his low, predatory manner. Ororo enjoyed this side of him, she realized. The protective, animal side. That thought made her smile.
“Ready, Cyclops?”
“Ready, Storm.” Scott grabbed the side of the plane, nodding.
With a brief clouding of her eyes Ororo cleared the street of all the debris with strong gales of wind, heavy rain dampening the fires, almost instantly the rioters broke apart, several running into the surrounding buildings. Storm and Cyclops made their way into the center of the street, taking in the damage as they went.
“Why does this feel wrong?” Scott asked.
Ororo looked at the scenery before her. Tipped over city bus, smoldering jeep, crushed cars, several broken bottles, litter. “It looks set up,” she said slowly. “A picture perfect riot scene.”
“Exactly.” Scott confirmed, one hand going to his visor as a precaution.
“Wow, how clever! And here I thought you two were stupid!” A sultry female voice called out. Standing atop the Blackbird a long legged, blue skinned mutant stood, pointing a gun at them.
“Mystique!” Cyclops sent out an optic blast, rolling to the side, where he was tackled by a strange man in black, a long blade slicing down, narrowly missing his shoulder.
“Scott!” Ororo cried.
“Get Mystique! I got this!”
Ororo acknowledged him by launching herself into the air, straight at Mystique, an attack that the fellow mutant was not expecting. She raised her gun and fired, but Ororo simply uttered “Em Sau” and the bullet was deflected by the dark shield that appeared before her. Huh, it worked, she thought.
Mystique was clearly startled and Ororo took the opportunity to slam into her, knocking her from the Blackbird and onto the hard pavement below.
“Ugh! That’s a new one, Windrider. So much for not being able to teach an old dog new tricks, huh.” Mystique flipped backward, immediately on her feet. She volleyed a blinking ball at Ororo that exploded into a heavy net, falling over Storm’s head.
“Are you kidding me?” Ororo asked, floating up into the air.
“Not at all.” Mystique pressed a button and instantly the net closed around Storm, capturing her in a tight ball. The blue skinned seductress was striding towards her, transforming herself as she did. When she leaned down into Storm’s face it was Forge’s features she was wearing. “Consider it a gift from the Maker himself.”
“Uhn, the only gift that man ever gave me was taking you far, far away. Tell him I said thank you!” Ororo said as she summoned lightening from the sky, bringing it down right on top of herself, throwing Mystique backwards, shorting the net’s electronics, releasing her. She rolled, lashing out with her booted foot, catching Mystique in the ankle, tumbling the other woman to the ground. Ororo lunged forward, her knees landing in the center of Mystique’s chest. She could hear thunder rumbling overhead. Ororo drew back, but before she could strike she was flung from Mystique’s body.
“Uh-uh-uh! Naughty, little witch. We’ve been waiting a long time for you!”
Ororo looked up from her position flat on her back. A man in black was removing his hood, revealing a grotesque face covered in leathery skin, large fangs protruding forth. On top of his head two misshapen horns curved slightly.
“Kerrok.” Ororo grimaced, somehow recognizing the Daemonite she had never encountered before. He was a soldier, not a sorcerer as the others had been, she noted. He stood well over six feet tall, bulky and large, holding two wicked looking curved blades in his clawed hands.
“Long time no see, Princess.”
“Not long enough.” Ororo said, rising to her feet, lightening flashing in her eyes.
“Wait. Don’t you wanna hear what I have to say? We’ve gone to a lot of trouble to protect you.”
“Protect me? You tried to kill me!” Ororo snapped, thunder booming.
“Ahh, an unfortunate accident,” Kerrok gave Mystique a withering glare. “It seems that the instructions we gave were not followed. The beast responsible was properly dealt with. Your death was never our intent.”
“Hnh. I find that hard to believe, demon. Now stand aside and let me see my teammate.”
“This worthless bag of meat?” Kerrok stepped aside, revealing an unconscious Cyclops. “He was defeated before I broke a sweat.”
“Do demons sweat?”
Kerrok grunted. “You miss the point, woman. We wish a truce.”
Ororo scoffed. “You wish me dead, or at the very least to use me.”
“No, no. We seek to protect you.”
“To quote a good friend of mine, ‘the nose don’t lie, Bub’ and I smell a liar.” Ororo sent several bolts into the ground scant inches from the Daemonite soldier. The air crackled, alive with electricity. “Now step away from Cyclops!”
Kerrok opened his mouth wide, spittle spraying in the air as he shrieked. “If you do not come with me they will kill you!”
Ororo said calmly, eyes glowing, “My friend, now!”
“Easy, Princess. The N’Garai mean you harm, not us, we wish to keep you from their grasp. We forgive your ancestors past dealings with our kind, we forgive all.”
“Nothing inspires forgiveness quite like the prospect of revenge.” Ororo smiled coldly. “I know all about your pathetic little feud with the N‘Garai, Daemonite, How they wish to use me to defeat your kind. How you wish to kill me to prevent it. The reason behind your plans, or plots to achieve them hold little interest for me. I will not ask again. Step away from my friend.” Lightening balled in her hand, dancing along her fingertips.
“Vengeful whore!” The demon soldier screamed.
“That ain’t no way to talk to a lady! Especially not my lady!” From the roof of the building behind them Wolverine dropped down with uncanny stealth landing silently beside the Daemonite, six adamantium blades poised and ready. With one skillful strike he plunged them into the large demon criss-cross fashion, their sharp points protruding from the front and back of the monster‘s torso, black liquid dripping from their ends.
Jean was nearby, using her powers to lift Scott from the ground and float him to her, out of harm’s way. She sent out mental command for Mystique to sleep when she noticed the other mutant trying slip behind Storm in the commotion. The blue mutant crumpled to the ground, eyes closed, red hair concealing her face. Ororo nodded her thanks, returning her focus to Logan and Kerrok.
Logan retracted his claws, then struck again, hacking deep over and over until the Daemonite began to fall. Suddenly the air was filled with mystic chanting. It was a terrible, chilling sound, grating on the X-Men.
“The head of a warrior such as you would be a great prize to add to my collection.” Kerrok was saying, turning swiftly, long forked tongue flickering out of its mouth. He took a swipe at Wolverine with the blades in his hand, connecting with soft tissue leaving a gaping wound.
“No!” Ororo rushed forward, but was stopped by Wolverine.
“Stay put!” he barked. He and the demon were circling each other, both seasoned warriors, both wanting the kill. Kerrok slashed again, and again connected, leaving a trail of blood down Wolverines arm. Wolverine growled fiercely, flinching slightly. Another slice, another cut. Kerrok laughed, Wolverine growled.
Ororo bit her lip to keep from crying out. Why wasn’t he moving? He was normally like lightning, fast and deadly, but for some reason he seemed lethargic. His responses dulled, his reaction time slowed.
Again the Daemonite struck, his meaty fist connecting with Wolverine’s face, splitting his lips. Wolverine lashed out reflexively, his silver claws narrowly missing the demon soldier. “Is that the best you can do?” The demon taunted. “You are no warrior. You are a feeble child! Pathetic.” A swift kick to Wolverine’s side, eliciting a low groan/growl.
Ororo couldn‘t stand it, the battle reminding her so much of her fight with Sabertooth. This gave her a moment of realization. “Jean!”
“Yeah, Storm?”
“Scan the area for any peculiar activity. I do not think this hulking brute is alone.”
Jean immediately opened her mind, heedless of any danger to herself, scanning the area, and just like in New Orleans she found a blank space, a void where nothing was detectable.
*I think you’re right! Two buildings south.*
Ororo didn’t hesitate, taking to the air, shooting straight up. Almost immediately she spotted a dark cloaked figure hovering on the roof of a local department store. “Hello, gruesome,” she said, eyes fading white. A murky funnel cloud appeared directly over the chanting demon, lifting it into the air. Apparently these creatures could only focus on one person at a time in order to shut down their powers, Ororo surmised.
Once she had the shadow figure high over the pavement she sent it crashing into the ground with enough force to cave in a chunk of sidewalk. Satisfied it wouldn’t be getting back up she glanced back down at Wolverine, who was laying on his back, bloodied, his body not healing. No! Had she been too late?
Kerrok stood over Wolverine, dropping his weapons, his misshapen face rending open, revealing large concealed fangs that burst forth like that of a snake. “How do you taste, meat?” Kerrok asked, leaning towards Wolverine.
“You will never know, monstrosity!” Ororo sent a hurricane gale, knocking the Daemonite backwards. She landed directly in front of the Kerrok, legs straddling Logan‘s fallen form. “You will pay for touching him, infidel!”
“So protective, Princess. Is this your choice of mate? This weak mortal? You could do so much better.” Kerrok mocked. “He is unworthy of you. He deserves to be slaughtered, and I deserve a true warrior to face. Up to it?” he challenged.
“Li, merer-ek saat!” {Come, you lover of slaughter.} Ororo shouted, picking up Kerroks discarded blades, slashing aggressively, the tips leaving bleeding black lacerations on Kerrok’s face.
As Kerrok’s battle cry rent the air Ororo took off running, staying on foot as opposed to the air, wanting to draw him away from Logan, but leaving plenty of scent for Wolverine to follow when he roused himself.
She could hear Kerrok hot on her heels. Thinking fast she darted into one of the aged brick buildings, a radio station, ignoring the screams of the people inside, taking the stairs in the lobby two at a time.
Get to the roof get to the roof get to the roof! A lightening strike using the tower as a conduit might be strong enough to kill the demon. Or at least she hoped it would. Storm was overcome by a murderous rage and quite willing to break her vow not to kill. It was Wolverine that this creature had touched, had harmed. Of all the people it could have been, it had been the one she loved more than anything and was willing to kill for. Foolish demon.
Once on the roof, Ororo made her way to the tall metal tower. She threw Kerrok’s blades across the roof, climbing the tower rung by rung. “Come to me, you big dumb animal,” she muttered.
“Already here.”
Storm gasped as Kerrok appeared in the air in front of her, dropping from the sky, wrapping his arm around her torso forcing her from the tower to the rooftop. She landed with a dull thud, the breath driven from her chest.
“Weak.” Kerrok snarled, folding his leathery wings against his sides. He clamped one scaly hand over the bottom half of her face, lifting her from the ground, her feet dangling. “You are what the Elder Gods fear?”
Ororo’s brow furrowed. Who in the name of the Bright Lady were the Elder Gods? If she had one more twist thrown her way…Uuuggh! Her eyes flashed.
“Put ‘er down, mon frere.” A silky smooth voice said from behind the struggling pair.
“Who are you?” Kerrok demanded angrily.
“The name is GAMBIT! REMEMBER IT!” A flurry of charged cards rained down, exploding in careful sequence, driving Kerrok forward to avoid the blasts; straight into the waiting fist of one pissed off southern beauty.
Ororo was flung free as the Daemonite warrior was knocked backwards. She rolled across the rooftop, coming to a stop at Gambit’s feet.
Kerrok hissed, but when the unmistakable sound of Wolverine’s growls could be heard coming from the stairwell he decided to flee. A fair fight with Wolverine was one he doubted he could win. Spreading his large, leathery wings, he spat, “This is not over, Sat-ne-a’nekh!”
Wolverine burst through the red exit door, claws extended, teeth bared, body still bloody, but healing. Scott and Jean close behind him, Scott looking well recovered. It was good to have a wife that was a doctor.
Wolverine lunged for Kerrok immediately, but the Daemonite took to the air, narrowly escaping six nine inch blades, causing Wolverine to let out a vulgar string of curses.
Gambit reached down, helping Storm to her feet. “Evnin’, padnat. Miss me?”
“Gambit, what are you doing here?”
“Shopping.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s the truth,” Rogue said, floating beside her. “ We came up tah Boston fer some shopping. A weekend away. Ya know, tah relax.”
“Sounds like fun. Were you shopping for anything in particular?” Ororo asked nonchalantly, brushing the dirt from her knees.
“Sounds like fun?” Wolverine snarled. He turned on Ororo, teeth still bared. “You’re just gonna strike up idle conversation after one of those fuckin’ creepy bastards tried to trap you again? Like everything is just hunky-fuckin’-dory?”
Storm raised one winter eyebrow. “What would you have me do, Logan? Cry pitifully at your feet, begging the Bright Lady to save me? Sorry, Bub, ain’t my style.” She mimicked his tone almost perfectly, crossing her arms over her chest, her breasts resting invitingly on her arms.
Christ, he thinking about her breasts in the middle of a damn argument. He took her face in his bloodstained hands, saying in lethal softness, “These fuckers want you dead, ‘Ro, and you deciding to lead one of them on a merry little chase just ain’t sitting well with me. I wonder if maybe you didn’t freeze some important brain cells back at the lake.”
“Logan, you worry too much. Besides, I knew you would be along to rescue me.” She leaned forward, brushing her soft lips against his, draining away his anger with her certain assurance that he would have come for her.
“I can’t lose ya, ‘Ro.” He pulled her into his arms, giving her a real kiss, tongues melding, arms wrapping around each other. A cool updraft blew around them, a sign of Ororo’s pleasant surprise at his very public gesture. “I love ya too damn much.”
Ororo smiled, but in her mind she worried, her thoughts very nearly the exact same thing. She would not lose Logan to these foul demons. She would rend this world apart before she let that happen. For a brief moment Ororo’s eyes filled inky black, but when she blinked they were bright blue once again. However, the brief change did not go unnoticed and Jean stared at her friend apprehensively. She was once again assailed by feelings of trepidation.
“Well, since we are here, there is something I would like to shop for.” Ororo said, fetching Jean from her thoughts.
“What’s that?” Scott asked coming up behind Jean, resting his arm across her shoulders.
“My wedding dress!” Ororo’s smile was the brightest any had ever seen her wear before, her love for Logan brimming in her eyes, exuding from her very soul for all to see.





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