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Xavier Institute
Westchester, New York



The smell of the earth always relaxed her, Ororo thought as she put her spade down, taking the soil in her hands, working it with familiar skill. She was taking some time to relax, the tension in her body seeping out as she cultivated.
After their return from Boston yesterday she and Jean had researched everything they could find on the Elder Gods and the name Kerrok. Surprisingly there had been a substantial amount of information, at least about the Elder Gods. Supposedly these Elder Gods resided on a plane of altered reality, whatever that meant, inaccessible to anyone not of equal power. These beings were said to be the watchers of life, the forces that guide, but do not interfere. On each plane of existence these beings had established sects to guide and guard the dimensions. On every planet of life they selected a group of disciples to maintain their order, keep the balance of good and evil.
On Earth this order was established in the place where all life on the planet had begun, in Africa. Their disciples were the High Priestesses, given the gift of sight and the ability to commune with nature. The Elder Gods also sent a force to protect the universe of each dimension, a spark from the original flame of life, the Phoenix.
Jean had been surprised. She had not known this about the Phoenix force that dwelled within her. She had been strangely comforted by the information.. The knowledge that the awesome power buried within in her was meant to protect and not destroy was a liberation for her tormented soul. She had known on some level that when the Phoenix had merged with her that it was a force of good, but having never experienced emotions before the Phoenix had difficulty dealing with them. Hunger was starvation, anger felt like all consuming rage, and lust, good God the lust had been nearly unbearable. In the end the Phoenix had raged out of control, the cost of which still kept Jean up at night. But knowing that its true purpose was good, well, it eased the pain a little.
Ororo had sensed the contentment this knowledge had given her friend, and for that she was immeasurably glad. Jean was the most loving person she knew and Ororo knew that Jean tortured herself with guilt, thinking she harbored an evil inside herself. Ororo had reached over the book they were reading and squeezed Jean’s hand in her own. Jean had looked up, tears in her eyes, knowing that Ororo had understood.
Once they had gathered as much information they could find, they had sat down with their fellow X-Men: Cyclops, Wolverine, Gambit, Rogue, Iceman, Beast, Colossus and Shadowcat. It was a brainstorming meeting of the minds, all of them trying to determine the significance of recent the events, and what they could all mean. It was Kitty who began to put the pieces together first.
“Well, if I was a race of power hungry demons from hell, I sure wouldn’t be bothering with us peons on Earth. I’d be going for the big guns.” She pointed at the words Elder Gods scrawled in black sharpie across the board.
“The kid has a point,” Wolverine said.
“So, why come after Storm?” Iceman asked.
“Tactics.” Cyclops said. “Let’s throw out the premise that the Daemonites are trying to kill Storm. Maybe they don’t want her dead, maybe they just want her too weak to fight back.”
“No, Ah’m pretty sure they want her dead, “ said Rogue. “It’s hard tah explain, but after I absorbed that shadow snake, Ah could feel their intentions. Not their thoughts, but close. I don’t think they’re gonna kill ya,” she looked at Storm. “But whatever it is they want yah tah do will.”
“Let’s assume then that it’s not the N’Garai that are trying to capture Storm. I mean, have we even seen one? No. Smart tactics are to send your enemies scrambling, keep them guessing, wondering what is really going on. Military strategists do it all the time. Send out false codes, make believe leads, hell Wolverine was sent on more than one bogus mission in his day to keep him from ever finding out the truth about himself.” Scott supposed.
Wolverine grunted, but remained silent, listening.
“So, you’re suggesting they’ve fed us false information?” Jean asked. “But we’ve had no real direct contact with them, aside from battle. The information we gathered we gathered from the journal left by Ilyanna.”
“Yes, but whose to say how accurate that is. Belasco was destroyed by Ilyanna, perhaps the N’Garai defense against the Daemonites fell with him. They may already have destroyed the N’Garai.” Scott countered.
“No loss there,” said Kitty bitterly. She had been very close to Ilyanna and had had to face the N’Garai demons several times.
“It’s obvious these Daemonite creatures are not stupid. They plan, they research and they act.”
“Yeah, but not as a team,” Jean said. “We’ve only had to face them one at a time.”
“Thank God.” Rogue said remembering the terrible creature they faced in San Francisco as well as the bulky brute they faced on the rooftop.
“Yes, but eventually they are going to figure out that one at a time is not cutting it, and they will come at us hard.” Ororo said.
“What makes you think that?” Colossus asked.
“Because it is what I would do.” she answered point-blank. “You want to win against a formidable enemy in battle then you hit hard and you keep hitting. Up until now I do not believe they viewed us as much of a threat. But yesterday we chased away one of their soldiers. Now they know the X-men are not simply going to roll over.”
“Got that right.” Wolverine said fiercely.
“All right,” said Beast, “let us run with this theory for a moment. For what purpose do they need Ororo?”
“Let’s map it out.“ Cyclops said, all eyes turning to him as he scrawled on the white board with black marker. He wrote: Daemonites, N’Garai, Elder Gods and Storm. “What do we know for certain about any of these things?” he asked.
“They’re icky.” Kitty said.
“True.” Cyclops wrote ‘icky’ under Daemonites and N’Garai. This made several members of the team smile. “What else?”
“The Daemonites have been around for over four thousand years.” Ororo said.

“Ok. Really old.” Scott scrawled. “What else?”
“They all belong to different dimensions,” Beast stated.
“Good.” Scott drew four circles around each word.
Kitty rose from her seat, lower lip caught between her front teeth, a clear sign that she was deep in thought. She reached out, phasing that marker from Scott’s hand. She drew three circles, labeling them and layering them. Earth, N’Garai, Elder God World. “Imagine these circles are in a house,” she said. “One is the bathroom, a bedroom, kitchen, et cetera. Now imagine that you are here,” she pointed to the first circle, labeled Earth. “But you want to be here,” she pointed to the last circle in the layer, labeled Elder God World.”
“Then you would have to go through the other rooms!” Bobby said, excited that he got the reference.
“Exactly.” Kitty smiled at him.
“And to do that you’d need a doorway.” Jean said, looking at Storm.
“But what if one of the doors was particularly hard to open,” continued Kitty.
The group sat in silence for a moment. “Well, at least now we know what they want to use Storm for,” Beast said.
“Yeah, a battering ram.” said Wolverine with a dark scowl.

“’Ro, you in here?” Logan called, knowing full well she was. He could smell her sweet fragrance lingering in the humid air.
“Down here.” Ororo was on her knees, her hands kneading damp soil. She smiled up at him from her position on the ground, wiping the back of one hand across her forehead, leaving a small smear of mud.
“Hey, darlin’.” He knelt beside her, rubbing his thumb over the streak, wiping it away. “When’d ya get back?”
“A short while ago. You were in the Danger Room, so I decided to come out here.” She said indicating her small greenhouse.
“How was the trip?” Logan asked as he made himself more comfortable, watching her hands working the soil. The motions were very soothing.
“Good.” She beamed. She and Jean had gone to Manhattan to look for a dress, having found none in Boston that Ororo had liked. “I found the perfect dress.”
“I don’t know why yer bothering. I’m just gonna tear it offa ya after the ceremony.” He gave her a wicked grin and a wink.
Ororo’s mouth quirked.
After that last meeting the two of them had mutually decided to give the conversations of demons and Elder Gods a rest and focus on their upcoming wedding. There would always be some wacko trying to hunt them down, be it demons from hell or top secret military officials, but their wedding…well, that was once in a lifetime!
“True as that may be, I want to look beautiful for you.” She said sincerely.
“Yer always beautiful,” he said just as sincerely. He reached out, pulling the elastic from her braid, sifting his fingers through her hair. Ororo’s eyes drifted shut and she leaned into the fingers massaging her scalp.
“Mmm…” she sighed. “You have the best hands.”
Logan’s eyes grew dark. Although he knew she hadn’t intended it, her hushed voice had aroused him instantly. There was something about her smoky velvet timbre that always got to him. He slowly tilted her head towards his, her blue eyes opening slowly, gazing at him in sapphire splendor, telling him without words that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
“’Ro.” He breathed her name as if it were the holiest of words, his firm lips pressing against her soft pliant ones. His heart hitched as her hands caressed the sides of his face softly. Her touch always did that to him, making him ache with tenderness. How he had lived without her he had no idea. He hadn’t, he acknowledged, not really. He had never felt alive or whole until ‘Ro.
“Logan.” She murmured in to his mouth, her tongue teasing his sculpted lips. He pressed her back against the moist earth, tugging her flannel shirt from her pants. Wait, flannel? He paused, taking in her attire. She was wearing one of his washed out shirts and to him the damn thing had never looked so good. Seeing his questioning look Ororo smiled, saying, “I missed you today.”
“Same here.” He ran his rough hands under his shirt, caressing her soft skin. His thumbs grazed her nipples, causing her to sigh. She tangled her slender fingers in his hair, smiling up at him with such open love that he had to close his eyes. “I don’t deserve you,” he said huskily burying his face in the curve of her neck, breathing in her earthy, fresh scent.
“Mmm. That’s probably true,” she murmured teasingly.
“Witch,” he grumbled into her mouth, lips claiming hers for a long kiss. A few hushed sighs and moans later they lay in each other’s arms naked, legs tangled, hands stroking tenderly, their movements unhurried.
He placed one knee between her thighs, parting her legs, sliding between them, cradled by her hips like he was made to be there. He entered her slowly, a hiss of pleasure escaping between clenched teeth. He framed her face with his hands, staring into her eyes as he moved within her. She never looked away, keeping her focus on him, their love making exquisitely slow, and unbearably intense. They were both completely open now, vulnerable and unguarded.
Logan placed his forehead against hers, sweat beading on both of their brows, their noses touching, eyes still locked. His mouth brushed hers fleetingly with each up thrust.
Ororo said his name softly, over and over. She could feel the tension in him, in the iron bands of his arms, in the way he moved. She was touched by the extraordinary will power he was exerting over his animal side to give her this. This amazingly gentle loving.
Logan braced himself on one elbow, leaning over her, his eyes dark and serious.
“What is it?” Ororo asked gently.
“I meritwet ek, ib-i.” {I will love you forever, my heart.} Logan said gruffly.
Ororo’s eyes widened. “Oh, Logan!” She pulled him down to her, kissing him lovingly, tears spilling from her eyes. He had learned to tell her he loved her in her native language. Ororo was extraordinarily moved by the gesture, her quiet sobs evidence of that.
“Shh, easy , darlin’. Don’t cry, ‘Ro. Please don’t cry.” He soothed her, whispering words of love against her ear, pressing his whiskered cheek to her face as he still slowly glided in and out of her.
“I love you,” she sobbed. “I love you so much, Logan.” Her hands clutched at his shoulders, her body trembling with the depth of her feelings for him. Logan held her tight, listening to her mantra of I love you’s, stroking her hair. He pressed himself more fully against her, rotating his hips. She moaned, eyes fluttering.
“Uhn-uh, darlin’. Stay with me.” His heated gaze captured hers. He moved again, and she bit her lip, but didn’t look away or close her eyes.
“I am with you,” she whispered. “Always.” She lifted her pelvis and Logan had to fight the urge to close his eyes against the raw pleasure. “Always.” she repeated.
Logan took her hands, locking their fingers together over her head, stretching her. His mouth possessed hers in a lingering kiss, licking and nipping, but still their eyes remained locked on each other. Ororo arched under him, pressure building.
“Look at me, baby. I wanna see yer eyes when ya come fer me.” He whispered raggedly.
Ororo moaned, his heated words pushing her towards fulfillment. “Logan…”
“I’m here, baby.” He rolled his hips, pressing forward at the same time. “Can ya feel it, ‘Ro. Can ya feel all the ways I love ya,” Logan surged forward, keeping her hands locked over her head even as she struggled to reach for him.
“Logan.” She whimpered.
“God, ‘Ro,” he groaned.
He stared into her deep blue depths, loving the way the color of her eyes swirled with each thrust, loving the way she met his impassioned gaze head on, not shrinking from it, reveling in it, in him.
“Yer mine, ain’t ya, darlin’.” He said, withdrawing almost completely from her tight channel.
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I am yours.”
He plunged home.
“Logaaaan…” Ororo came apart in his arms, her body arching off the soil, her mouth open as a keening cry broke from her very soul, escaping into the night air. But her eyes didn’t close, her gaze never wavered as she writhed beneath him, moaning his name, whimpering.
“Exquisite,” Logan’s graveled voice sounded in her ear.
Once she had returned to earth Ororo lifted herself against him, causing his breath to hitch. “Your turn,” she whispered.
Logan pulled away, then surged forward. Ororo locked her legs behind his back. “Ahhh, ‘Ro…’
“Uhn-uh, darlin’,” she rasped, “stay with me.”
“’Ro. ’Ro. ’Ro.” He grunted her name on each thrust, his pace quickening. Ororo yanked her hands free, cradling his face between them, lifting her head, pressing her mouth to his, blue eyes capturing his black ones as surely as she captured his heart.
“Come for me,” she murmured against his lips, nails digging into the flesh of his cheeks.
“Ahh, fuck, ‘Ro.” He pounded into her, face twisted in a snarl of pleasure. Ororo smiled, welcoming the Wolverine home. Logan needed to understand that she accepted him, all of him, and that she loved everything about him, including the beast within.
Logan came, pushing himself inside of Ororo to the hilt, clutching her close, his howl of pleasure hoarse and glorious to her ears. She had stared into his eyes the entire time, lost in his rapture as much as he was. When his body relaxed, the corded tendons of his neck no longer in stark relief she buried her face against his slick skin.
“I am yours.” She whispered into his ear.
“And I am yours,” he whispered back, voice cracking.
“Always.” They murmured in unison.





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