Once the contents of her single bag were unpacked and sorted Ororo looked around her room once more. She couldn’t believe what a great room she had. Wide and spacious, complete with sky light and it’s own balcony. Perfect, she thought pushing open the glass double doors, the sheer pale curtains fluttering in the breeze. She leaned against the railing taking in the expansive yard that lay below her. There were still several people roaming around in the yard, and the mutants she had seen earlier were still playing football. In the distance she heard the unmistakable rumble of thunder and sighed contentedly. Mother nature was whipping up a doozey. Hating to depart the balcony before the shower began, Ororo reluctantly walked back into her room, closing the double doors behind her. Time to get ready for dinner with Charles.
From the courtyard below Wolverine glanced up, catching a glimpse of snow white hair and stunning profile as the newest recruit turned away from the third story balcony railing and walked back inside. She was damn pleasant to look at, he thought. Not your typical cookie cutter beauty, that one. No she was exotic and wild, and had the scent to match. Earthy, natural and very pleasant. He remembered the punched in the gut feeling he got when he’d first seen her, mildly surprised that he felt it again just now.
“Wolverine. There you are.” Jean called, marching towards him from the porch, her red hair flaming in the fading sunlight.
“Red.” He flicked his lighter, cupping his hand around the flame as the wind picked up, lighting the cigar clenched between his teeth. She gave him a reproachful glare. He sat silent.
“You know the Professor hates you smoking.”
“I’m outside,” he said flatly. “What do ya need, Jean?”
“I was hoping you and I could go into town and spend some quality time together.” She said, running her fingertips along his arm. Wolverine was once again silent, and Jean wished that she could read his mind, but she couldn’t. Wolverine was damn near impervious to telepathy. No getting in unless he wanted you to. “Well?” she prodded when he didn’t say anything.
Just then Scott appeared on the front porch, and though his eyes were hidden behind his visor Wolverine knew he was looking straight at him and Jean. Smiling his sexiest smile, Wolverine leaned in, kissing the corner of Jean’s mouth, then running his tongue against the seam of her lips. She sighed, easily melting into him.
Scott turned away, fists clenched. He strode back in the mansion, only looking back once.
“Is that a yes?” Jean asked breathlessly.
Wolverine pulled back slightly, smile gone. “Not tonight, Jean.” He pushed himself away from her, striding across the pavement to the garage. He was ready for that ride now.
Back inside the mansion Scott strode down the halls, his teeth grinding. What did she see in that animal? He wondered for what felt like the hundredth time.
“Hi. It’s Scott, right?”
Scott turned, drawn to the sound of a warm sultry voice. Storm stood in the open lobby, her head tilted to one side, long white braid draping over her bare shoulder. When he didn’t respond right away she assumed he hadn’t heard her. She walked towards him, her long cream colored sundress fluttering at her ankles as she moved, barefoot, across the marble tiles.
“Or do you prefer Cyclops,” she said when she was next to him.
“Cyclops is fine.” he said at last. She was nearly as tall as he was, Scott noticed. She was looking at him with those eyes that saw too much again and he looked away unnerved. “Ready for your dinner?” he asked.
“As I’ll ever be,” she muttered.
“Normally we all eat in the dining hall with everyone else, but the Professor would like to have dinner with you in his office,” Scott said as they made their way down the hall. They reached the elevator but Storm stepped away from it. “Are there stairs?” she asked.
Confused Scott said, “Uh, yeah. Over there.”
“Thanks.” Storm moved towards the stairwell.
“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked.
“No, I’m pretty good at finding my way.” Storm made her way down the stairs. The boy scout was nice enough, she mused, but he had a serious stick lodged deep in his backend. She could tell by the rigid set of his shoulders, and the slightly arrogant tilt of his jaw, like he was trying to prove something. She felt a little guilty for thinking that about the guy, but she called ‘em like she saw ‘em.
Storm followed the hall until she came to a large mahogany door.
“Enter.” Came a mild male voice.
Ororo frowned, she hadn’t even knocked yet. Opening the door she said, “You know, Charles, it wouldn’t kill you to not do that.”
Charles chuckled. “You always seem to say exactly what’s on your mind, Storm.”
She shrugged. “Why not?”
“It is not an insult, it’s refreshing. You’d be surprised how many people don’t do that.”
She raised one eyebrow.
“All right,” he conceded, “maybe you would believe it.”
“Mmhm.” Ororo glanced around the room. It was nice, sparsely decorated, but nice. A large potted plant stood in one corner, its green leaves turning brown at the tips. She moved towards it, running her hand along the leaves, and stems. “You should take better care of your plants.”
“I know,” Charles agreed. “But it is difficult to find the time.”
Ororo said nothing, forming a small rain cloud in the palm of her hand, sprinkling the dry soil until it was rich brown.
“That is one of the things I wished to speak with you about,” Charles was saying.
“You want me to water your plants?” she asked skeptically.
“No. But I would like you to teach a Botany class.”
Storm paused in her watering, casting Xavier a disbelieving look over her shoulder. “You’re kidding.”
“No. I am very serious.”
“Look, Charles, I appreciate that this is some sort of mutant high as well as a training facility for your world renowned X-men, but I am not a teacher, nor do I have the inclination to be one.”
“Storm. A condition of your being here was that you would work for me for at least one year. It‘s not much to ask, in return for a home.” He rolled his chair to the window, looking outside. He knew that a home was the one thing Ororo Munroe desired more than anything. It was a desire he could use to his advantage if necessary.
“I agreed to join your little group of vigilantes.” Storm said, irritation growing.
He turned his head back to her. “The X-Men are far more than ‘vigilantes’, they are teachers, trainers and role models for the younger students.”
Storm scoffed. “Yeah, a pick-pocket, car-jacker and all around thief is just the type of role model you want a kid to have.”
Charles frowned at her sarcasm. “In a perfect world, no. I would not want to have you as a role model for my students. However, the world is far from perfect and my students need to be prepared for the hardships they’ll face as mutants. They need to be able to defend themselves. Besides, I will have need of several of the skills that you mentioned.”
Storm was quiet for a moment. Then she asked, “If I refuse?”
Xavier didn’t even blink. “Then I’ll withdraw my offer to assist you.”
Storm’s eyes snapped angrily. “I thought you were different.” she said tightly.
“No one gets something for nothing, Storm.”
“Fine. You have a Botany teacher and thief on your team, Xavier. But when my year is up, I’m gone. So you’d better figure out real quick how to fix my problem.” She ground out between clenched teeth. Turning she marched towards the door, saying over her shoulder, “A word of caution, Xavier. I am only willing to be manipulated so far.”
He nodded. “Aren’t you going to eat?” Charles asked mildly, rolling over to the small table he had set out.
“I’ve lost my appetite.” She opened the door, slamming it behind her. As she strode down the hall she yanked the elastic from her hair angrily, letting it fall loose about her waist. This is a bang up first day, Storm thought moodily. Thunder boomed outside. About time.
Storm hurried up the stairs, nearly running as she went. Once in her attic loft she threw open the balcony doors and with a quick peek outside she confirmed that the students had all gone inside to get out of the torrential downpour. She stepped onto her balcony, letting the soothing rain pour down on her.
Inside his office Charles Xavier sat thinking. He needed Storm on his team. Needed her for some very specific assignments. However, it was apparent that the lure of a home was not going to be strong enough to get her to stay. He would need something stronger to tie her to them. He closed his eyes, mentally reviewing all the information he had on her. He hated manipulation, but as it was, he was left with little option.
He sat up straighter in his wheelchair, remembering a fleeting impression he had gotten from Storm’s mind when they had first met. Someone she wanted to protect. Charles pushed the intercom button. “Winston, I need a phonebook.”
Night
Ororo threw her blankets aside. There was just no sleeping tonight. Not that that was a big surprise, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten a full nights sleep. Goddess, she could use one. It had been so long since she’d had any peace. Realizing she was agitating herself she took a deep breath, filling her lungs. She let it out slowly. Better.
Striding to her balcony she peered through the glass windows. There was a forest nearby. Perhaps a nice walk would help calm her nerves. Ororo pulled on a pair of sweatpants under her oversized nightshirt. She slipped out of the doors, leaping from the balcony, using the winds at her command to slow her decent.
“Going somewhere?” A deep graveled voice asked from the shadows.
Ororo spun around, her stance defensive. “Who’s there?”
Flame from a struck match briefly illuminated the commanding features of the man she had met earlier, the one who made her heart beat just a little faster, who looked like he could see straight through her…Wolverine.
“Storm.” He returned. She hadn’t realized she’d said his name out loud.
“I was going for a walk.” She said.
“A bit late fer that dontchya think.”
Storm crossed her arms. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, it’s not.”
“Actually, darlin’, it is my business. I’m the one that has ta fetch yer sorry ass if something’ happens ta ya while yer out traipsing’ the lawn.” He looked down. “In yer bare feet no less.”
“I don’t need a babysitter, Wolverine. I am quite capable of taking care of myself. But if it makes you feel any better you’re welcome to join me.” Why had she done that?
Wolverine was momentarily taken back. Aside from Jean wanting him for sex, no one ever invited him to do anything. Not that he minded, he disliked most of the sniveling brats roaming around the Institute. “Naw, you just getchyer butt back in the house and up ta bed.” he said.
“No.”
Wolverine stepped forward, a cloud of smoke from his cigar hanging in the damp air. “I said get back in the house,” he growled at her.
“And I said no,” she snarled right back.
This was definitely something new. A challenger. He stepped away from her. “Have it yer way, darlin’.”
Ororo blinked. Had he just backed down? Somehow that didn’t fit the impression she had gotten from him earlier. She turned, heading towards the wooded tree line in the distance. She hadn’t gone more than a hundred yards when she got the distinct impression she was being followed. She turned her head slightly, but could see no one. Hmm.
Wolverine watched her from the shadows. She paused, turning her head, searching. He was impressed that she could sense him, not many people could. She shrugged one shoulder and continued to walk. As she entered the forest she sighed happily. She moved along the grass and roots as if she were not walking through them, but as if she was moving with them, as much a part of nature as the foliage themselves.
“If you want to join me, the offer is still open.” The sound of her sultry smooth voice reached him. He didn’t move. “I didn’t think you’d back down from a little thing like me, you just don’t seem the type,” her tone was teasing.
“And just what do you think you know about me after meeting me for thirty seconds.” His breath stirred the hair at the nape of her neck. Good lord the man was silent and quick. Everything she’d heard about him came rushing back. Merciless killer. Assassin. Soulless.
Ororo didn’t dare turn around, he was too close. Instead she focused on keeping her breathing even. “I don’t know much, only what Charles told me of you.”
“And what flattering words did Chuck have to say about me.” His voice was deeper, more graveled and just as close as before.
“He said that you were an assassin. The best assassin in the world.”
Wolverine was surprised. She had known he was a killer and she had still invited him on a walk? Was she soft in the head? “And what do you think of that?” He asked quietly.
“I hope he’s right.”
Yep, definitely soft in the head. “Why, darlin’? Is there someone you want killed?”
Ororo shrugged nonchalantly. “I hope it doesn’t come to that, but yeah, maybe.” She turned then, faltering a little at his close proximity. She stumbled backwards but strong arms enfolded her, keeping her from falling. She found her hands pressed flat against his broad black t-shirt covered chest, his heart beat thudding beneath her right palm.
“Storm,” Wolverine whispered. “Is an interesting name.”
“So is Wolverine,” she countered.
He didn’t know why it happened, but it did. “Logan.”
She smiled and Wolverine was floored. He could not have imagined that she could be more beautiful, but that smile lit up her face. Everything but her eyes, where up close as he was, he could see the sadness buried within their blue depths.
“Hello, Logan. I’m Ororo.”
He liked the way his name sounded on her lips. Not one person at the Institute knew his real name, save perhaps Xavier, but he never used it, and Wolverine was mildly confused by his willingness to give it to this woman. Looking at her he felt drawn to her, he could feel his head bending forward…
“Don’t worry, Logan. I won’t tell if you won’t tell.” For a moment he thought she was talking about kissing him, but then he realized she was referring to their names. She detached herself from his arms, standing a few feet away, looking very composed where he felt damn near bereft without her in his arms. What the fuck?
There was a shift in the air and Wolverine could smell the unmistakable scent of ozone. The thunderstorm that hit that afternoon was not quite done with them it seemed. “We should get back,” he said. “It’ll be raining soon.”
Ororo lifted her face to the sky. “I think we’ll be fine.”
“I’m telling ya, there’s a thunderstorm in the making. The nose don’t lie.” He said, growling a little.
Turning towards him Ororo raised one hand in the air. There was a sizzle and then a crack as lightening exploded from the sky, streaking down into her open palm. Her hair flew about her face, her eyes glowing eerie white. “Again, I think we’ll be fine.” she said, the bolt dancing along her fingertips, arching into her other hand.
“So, that’s yet power.” Wolverine said.
“Yes, this and my amazing ability to stick out my chest.” Her tone was dry, one corner of her mouth turned up.
For the first time in a long time Wolverine laughed. “I think I’m gonna like having ya around, ‘Ro.”
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