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Xavier Institute
Westchester, New York

“It’s like a damn greenhouse in here,” Alison commented pushing open Ororo’s bedroom door, carrying yet another large potted plant. She set the leafy package onto the floor, giving a Storm a gentle smile, which was a comical contrast to her darkly painted eyes and spiked hair. “I’d say the man’s smitten. Job well done.”
Ororo glanced up from her seat on the end of her large bed, looking around her room at the lush and assorted flowers and plants Shinobi had been sending her for the past three days. All of them potted, uncut and beautiful. Without a word Ororo looked back at the book in her hands.
“Yep, a man in love,” Alison continued doggedly. She pulled open the small envelope attached to the dark blue pot and read, “Ororo- I anxiously await our next meeting. Please, know that you are on my mind, and I am at your beck and call- Shinobi Shaw.”
Still no response from Ororo and Alison quelled the desire to stomp her booted foot. “Look, lady, the Storm I know wouldn’t be up in her room, sulking like some beaten dog because of some dumb bitch and a stupid man who can’t see what’s right under his nose.”
This got Ororo’s attention. “I killed their baby, Alison.” Her voice was whisper soft.
Ororo recalled the unbelievably painful moment when Jean had come into the rec room a few nights ago night screaming that she had almost lost her baby because of the strain Storm had put on her. Immediately Ororo had apologized, but that hadn’t been enough and Jean had telekinetically thrown several pool balls at her. Ororo had used her winds to deflect the balls and Jean screamed some more, becoming increasingly upset. Ororo had told her to go away and Jean had, and she immediately sought out Wolverine.
After a much heated conversation Jean had crumbled to the ground, claiming abdominal pains. Wolverine had immediately scooped her up and carried her to the med-lab, where a newly returned Hank had been. Jean had shooed Wolverine away, claiming that she could sense his anger and it was upsetting her.
After an hour Storm had gone down to the lab to check on him, and see how Jean was. Wolverine had been sullen and silent, barely glancing at her and she knew she was making things worse, so she had turned to leave, but Jean had emerged from the med-lab eyes red-rimmed, glaring at Ororo. “Happy now?” she’d cried. “Our baby is dead.”
Storm was at a loss. Wolverine had said nothing, simply embraced a sobbing Jean. Ororo had left, her heart aching for his loss. She had tried to speak with him shortly after and winced at the recollection of their painful confrontation and a fresh wave of self-loathing washed over her. She had found him in the garage, packing one of the Institute’s black SUV’s. “You’re leaving?” She’d asked.
“Yep.” Slam! He moved around to the driver’s side. “I need ta get away from everything.”
“Logan… I am so--”
“Don’t.” He had growled. “I don’t want ta hear it, Storm. Whatever yer gonna say, I don’t wanna hear it.”
“No,” She had agreed, tears spilling from her eyes, creating silver ripples down her cheeks.
He had whirled on her, teeth bared, face contorted in anger. “Ya want ta know the sickest part of all this, Storm? The sickest shit of all? I fuckin’ dreamt of you last night. Pregnant with my kid.” He gripped the door handle, his knuckles white. “I can’t be near ya now, Storm. I don’t trust myself not ta hurt you. I’m takin’ one of Xavier’s solo assignments.”
“Logan-”
“Wolverine.” he snarled. “You will call me, Wolverine.”
“I’m so sorry.” She whispered brokenly.
“Go cry prettily for Shaw, Storm. I ain’t interested.”
He opened and slammed the driver’s door, starting the SUV and backing away from her.
“I understand,” she’d whispered, and she did, knowing he was lashing out in his pain. She had wanted to hold him, comfort him, tell him she loved him…but instead, she walked away, forcing herself not to look back, silently crying all the way into the mansion. She had fallen to her knees in her room, grieving for the little soul she had unwittingly taken.
Wolverine had yet to return. She knew eventually they would have to acknowledge each other, but she wasn’t sure she could face him yet, knowing what she had done.
Ali sat down heavily on the bed beside Storm. “Storm, it was an accident. You didn’t mean to-”
“Didn’t I?” Ororo stood, pacing the floor, her bare feet silent on the hardwood. “I attacked a pregnant woman, Ali. No matter what the provocation I attacked her, and the cost of my mistake…is far too high.”
“For crying out loud, Storm, she was what? A month along?“
“That doesn’t matter, Alison. A life is a life.“
“Ok, fine, but it doesn’t mean you have to give up living. Look at you, Storm.” Alison gave her unkempt appearance a once over. “You’re a wreck. I know it hurts and as much as you may want to, you can’t change it. You just try and move on.”
Storm shook her head. “I don’t know that I can.”
“I wish ya would, padnat,” Gambit said from the door. “Even if it’s wit’ a man like Shinobi Shaw.”
Ororo turned, surprised, never expecting Gambit to promote any type of relationship with Shinobi. “My assignment is nearly over, Gambit. Tonight I get the documents, the artifacts and a lead on what Sebastian Shaw is up to. Mission accomplished.”
“You do your job well, Stormy, as always. But after dis I t’ink dat maybe you should try and be jus’ a woman wit‘ a man. If not Shaw, den someone else.”
“I don’t have it in me, Gambit.”
“Yes, you do.” He approached her slowly, his eyes faintly glowing with the intensity of what he was saying. “Der’s no one stronger den you, padnat.” He gripped her shoulders. “I want ta see you smile, chere. And da only time ya done dat lately is when you’re wit’ Shaw.”
Ororo sighed. She had enjoyed Shinobi’s companionship very much over the past weeks, and she knew she would be confusing him by simply stepping out of his life without explanation, but she didn’t know what else to do. As it was she felt guilty for betraying him, even though she knew he was into some shady things and was capable of things she’d rather not know about. That part of him was known, but never seen. When they were together, however, he was always good to her, and always made her feel wanted. It was a feeling she had come to enjoy, possibly too much. “I am acting, Gambit.”
Alison scoffed. “Not all of it’s an act, Storm. I saw you look at him, you like him.”
Ororo nodded. “Yes, I like Shinobi.” But I love Wolverine, she thought but left it unsaid. Before any of them could continue Kitty’s head phased up through the floor, held a loft by Colossus below.
“Hey, Storm, Hank wants to see you.”
“All right.” Storm said, thankful for the excuse not to continue their current conversation. She reached out her hand, grabbing Kitty’s outstretched arm, allowing herself to be phased through the floor. Once in the kitchen she was greeted by Hank, who looked…uncomfortable. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, I require a word in private, if you do not mind.” He motioned towards the back door and Ororo followed.
“What can I do for you?” Storm asked, shielding her eyes from the sun.
“It is perhaps what I can do for you.” He handed her a folder.
“What’s this?” She asked.
“Confidential.” He said, looking over his shoulder.
Ororo opened it. It was list of codes for medical files. “I can’t see this, Hank.” She snapped it shut.
Giving her a grave look Beast placed his furry paws on top of her hands. “Please, Storm. I wanted to say something sooner, but I have been unable to bring myself to fully accept my participation in these events.”
Storm looked at him. “What are you trying to say?”
Hank shook his head. “As a doctor I am not saying anything. As a friend of one of the best thieves in the world I am saying I will be taking lunch away from the med-lab from noon to one.”
Ororo looked at him confused.
“I only hope when this is all done you can forgive me.”
“Hank?” But he was already walking away. Ororo opened the folder again, reading the highlighted name and code: Grey, Jean 0011 0100 100100 6.


Med-Lab
12:15 pm

“What are we doing down here?” Kitty asked, moving through one of the white tiled walls.
“I’m not entirely certain.” Storm answered. “I need you to hack me into the medical database.”
Kitty’s mouth dropped. “No way.”
“Way.” Alison said, moving into the room as well. She pulled up one of the rolling stools, settling on it and spinning across the floor.
Kitty took the seat, studying the screen in front of her. “What am I looking for?” she asked, her slender fingers flying across the keypad.
Storm leaned over her shoulder, peering intently at the flickering blue screen. “Student records.”
After only a few minutes Kitty exclaimed, “We’re in.”
“Wow, we really need to work on the security around this place,” Storm said.
“Why? Any more late night visitors?” Ali asked with a wink, having heard about Shinobi’s surprise picnic.
“Who’s getting late night visitors?” Kitty asked.
“No one.” Storm gave Ali a narrow look, but there was a subtle lift to her mouth. “Okay, here’s a code I need you to put in.” Ororo handed Kitty the file.
“Unh-uh,” Kitty stood up. “I got you this far, the rest is up to you.”
“Scardey-cat,” Ali murmured.
“No, she’s right.” Storm took the seat Kitty had vacated, pushing her hair out of her way with one black gloved hand. Old habits, she thought, having donned her black pants and tight black tank with a pair of black leather gloves and heavy boots. It was a look she had imitated from Gambit growing up, and one that stuck when she was feeling dangerous.
She entered the code Hank had given her earlier and an image of Jean Grey appeared, with a brief bio and list of allergies. Storm scrolled down, skimming as she went. When she got to Jean’s most recent visit’s the air seemed to thicken, her blood alternating between icy and boiling. Ororo re-read the entry in front of her: Controlled Pregnancy test: results (Negative). Then another entry three days later: Controlled Pregnancy test: results (Positive).
“Holy shit.” Alison whispered, reading over Storm’s shoulder. Then very dryly, “Who knew she was allergic to peanuts?”
Storm didn’t even blink, just kept reading. “She’s been injecting herself with low levels of progesterone.” She read quietly.
“Why?” Kitty asked.
“Progesterone is a pregnancy hormone,” Storm replied absently.
“Yeah, but why inject it into herself? I mean it’s not like it’ll make her pregnant.“ Alison said, leaning back and crossing her arms.
“No,” Ororo murmured. “It could confuse a test, though.”
“Yeah, it could.” Alison swore. “She‘s still taking the injections,“ Ali noted. “Why?”
Storm thought for a moment then gasped, her blue eyes wide. “Not only to confuse a test, but to confuse a man.”
“Excuse me?” Kitty asked, chewing her thumb nail nervously.
“Wolverine,” Ali nodded, following Storm’s train of thought. “He’d have smelled it on her.”
“Whoa, that’s just…Wow.” Kitty shook her head disbelieving.
“That’s fucked up.” Alison said angrily. “So, Jean was just playing some sort of sick game,” Alison shook her head, truly astounded by the gall it would take someone to do that. “What now?”
Storm could feel each and every heavy beat of her heart. She had grieved that baby, she had mourned their loss and she had watched as Wolverine became even more withdrawn. Her blue eyes faded, replaced by brightly glowing white fire. “Now, I let her know that playtime’s over.”
Storm strode away from her teammates, the air sizzling around her body.
Ali glanced at Kitty, a wicked grin on her face. “Ooohhhooo, this is gonna be good.” She then left the med-lab, hot on Storm’s tail.

Courtyard

Jean was leaning against the base of the fountain in the center of the circled drive, surrounded by several friends and sniffers. The term Ali used to describe the students who wished popularity by association and trailed Jean like a follower. She currently had her head leaned on Cyclops’s chest, his arm around her shoulders protectively. Ororo’s eyes narrowed. How dare that witch take comfort from another man when it was Wolverine’s heart her little game trampled. Storm felt her entire body tremble with rage.
The only warning Jean received before Ororo’s fist slammed into her face, was a loud rumble of thunder, then the cracking of her nose, spraying blood. Several of the students screamed, backing away from the obviously enraged Storm, who stood ramrod straight, eyes white, gloved hands clenched, hair whipping around her head, crackling with electricity. The temperature dropped quickly, Ororo’s breath fanning in front of her face.
“Storm!” Cyclops reacted immediately, reaching for the button on his visor, but the heel of Storm’s boot caught his temple, knocking him to the ground. She raised her foot again, bringing it down in his solar plexus, knocking the air from his body.
She placed her foot on his chest. “Stay down, pretty boy. This is between me and Pom-Pom.” With that she reached down and ripped his visor off his head, flinging it aside.
Jean staggered to her feet, holding one hand to her nose, a look of fear on her face. Storm could feel her trying to penetrate her mind again and she smiled slowly at the redhead. “Not so easy when I have my defenses up, is it?” She moved quickly, rushing Jean and spinning, her elbow driving deep into the other woman’s chest, sending her reeling once again. Jean cried out.
“Do you know what this is?” Storm asked quietly, her gaze steady. “This is karma, Jean.” Her foot lashed out, catching Jean at the knees, dropping her.
“Hey! Hands off!” Bobby Drake was freezing over, racing towards them. Storm inclined her head and a swirl of air lifted the other man from the ground, flinging him into the pool.
She turned back to Jean. “Get up.”
Jean shook her head, “Please, haven’t you done enough to me?” she cried out loudly, for all to hear.
Storm grinned. “I haven’t even started, Marvel Girl.” She crouched low, watching Jean scramble. “As for what I want? Your head on a platter sounds nice.” She dove forward, rolling so that her feet landed on Jean’s outstretched legs, connecting with her kneecaps. Ororo sprung to her feet. “I thought being an X-Man meant giving as good as you got? You’re disappointing me, Jean.” She lifted the other woman by her hair.
“Storm, halt!” Peter Rasputin commanded in his thick Russian accent. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He was moving towards them, skin rippling solid steel.
Storm’s eyes flashed. “What makes you think you can?” With a wave of her arm a wall of raging winds enclosed around her and Jean, leaving the others outside the swirling barrier, staring dumbfounded.
“Now, where were we? Oh, yes, you were about to scream.” Storm threw the other woman across the ground with a viscous twist on her red hair.
“Someone!” Jean screamed clambering to her feet. “Help me!”
“I know what you did, you lying bitch.” Ororo stalked the other woman slowly, her head lowered, her teeth bared, in a stance that was remarkably similar to Wolverine’s.
Jean gave a mental push, a telekinetic pulse, pushing against Storm. Storm slid back, but not far, using a powerful blast of wind to counter the pulse, and propel her into Jean. She caught her on the wrist, twisting her arm behind her back, slamming her into the dirt, Ororo’s knee planted in her back. She lifted Jean slightly, then slammed her down again. “How’s that feel, Jean?” Storm leaned close, her breath stirring the hair at Jean’s temples. Jean struggled futilely, screaming for help. “Come on, Pom-Pom, is that all you got?” She slammed her head into the ground.
Several students ran towards the porch, where their leader and mentor sat. He stared across the yard, his eyes resting on Jean and Storm. Without a word he rolled around, back into the mansion.
“He can’t be serious?” Colossus demanded. “The Professor’s just going to let them fight?”
“Not much of a fight, really,” Alison muttered with a smile. “Not when it’s a fair one anyway.”
Storm’s eyes glowed brightly and she yanked Jean‘s head back. “You hurt people maliciously, and without regard. That kind of behavior makes me sick. Tell them what you did.” She shoved the Jean towards the small crowd of people brave enough to stay in the courtyard.
Jean glanced at Cyclops.
“What’s going on, Jean?” Cyclops asked warily, his eyes closed tight.
“She lied.” Storm said.
“Jean?” Scott asked guardedly.
“I’m so sorry, Scott,” Jean said. “I don’t know why I did it. I just did. I’m so sorry.” She turned to Storm. “You’re a two-bit con artist and murderer. I was trying to protect him.”
“No, Jean. You wanted him for yourself.” Storm’s eyes flashed. “Stop lying.” Thunder boomed. The clouds split, rain pouring from the sky, drenching everyone and everything.
“You don’t belong here!” Jean screamed.
Storm floated slightly above the ground. “Why do you hate me?”
“Because he loves you! He never loved me!” Jean cried angrily, tears pouring from her green eyes.
“But I loved you,” Scott said, voice cracking.
Jean sobbed openly now. “I know, Scott. I know. I love you too, it’s just…oh, God, I just have always been the favorite…and then….” She waved one arm at Storm.
“All this because you weren’t the favorite?” Alison asked. “Holy narcissist.”
“Shut up,” Jean spat. Ororo dropped and slapped her.
“You don’t get to talk to my friends like that, Jean.” Storm looked at Cyclops. “I am sorry for you, Cyclops. I know you still love her.”
He nodded. “I do.”
Storm gave Jean a hard look. “Why not try being worthy of that kind of unconditional love as opposed to chasing a man who doesn’t want to be caught.”
Jean lowered her eyes. “I’m so sorry…Scott…Storm.” Her shoulders shook with her cries.
Storm closed her eyes. She moved towards the other woman, pulling her into her arms, holding her as she cried.
Alison’s mouth hung open. Gambit approached from behind, using his index finger to close it. “Dat’s why I love ‘er.” He said proudly.
“Unfuckingbelievable.”
Gambit smiled. “Yes, she is.”
“Okay, who gets to tell Wolverine?” Alison asked with a trace of genuine trepidation.
“Jean will tell him,” Cyclops stated flatly.
Alison smiled. “Can I watch?”





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