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Xavier Institute
Westchester, New York


The early morning light found Ororo and Logan down by the lake, both wearing white Gi tops and Hakama bottoms, moving their bokkens in synchronic harmony. Logan was a master of many Japanese fighting styles and was currently teaching Ororo Kenjutsu, which was an exceptionally difficult art, and often never seen outside of Japan. She learned remarkably quickly, and was always an eager student. She was curious about the culture and though he could remember little except for how to fight, he explained what he did know, told her he lived by Bushido. She had seemed fascinated, enthusiastically asking questions, participating in his practices and meditations.
He shared with her a side he had never shown anyone before and one few even knew he practiced. She had gathered the importance of his sharing and had been immeasurably moved by it.
Now, watching her through veiled eyes he was taken aback once again by how exquisite she was, both physically and spiritually. Her soul the purest he’d ever known. She stretched her arms over her head, rotating the wooden sword in a smooth circle, flowing like he’d told her to, making the weapon an extension of her body.
“Yer improving every day, ‘Ro.”
“Only because of your expert guidance,” she smiled at him.
Logan removed the brokken from her hands, laying it gently on the ground. He closed the small space between them, wrapping his powerfully built arms around her, hauling her against his broad chest, allowing her to feel the distinctive hardness he harbored in his Hakamas.
Ororo twined her arms around his neck. “You seem most invigorated this morning, husband.”
Logan felt a satisfying warmth spread through him at the use of the word husband. He chuckled low and deep, pressing her closer, one large hand molding the small of her back. “I’m glad ya noticed.”
“Mmm. It’s kind of hard to miss, love.” She moved against him subtly, just a small rotation of her hips, but it caused a fierce reaction in Logan. He wrenched open her Gi, revealing the perfection of her breasts to his ravenous gaze. He slowly ran his hands up her body, cupping her.
“Perfect,” he whispered, bending his head, his lips teasing the budding nipple into a taut peak instantly. Ororo weaved her fingers into his thick hair, holding him to her as she curved her back, giving him better access.
“Will it always be like this?” she whispered softly, moaning faintly.
Logan raised feral eyes to hers. “Yes,” he growled.
Ororo felt her heart skip at his possessive look. He pushed the Gi off her shoulders, then tugged at her loose fitting pants, dropping them to the ground. He stepped away from her to remove his own when she caught his wrists. “Let me.” She ran her hands over the material, pushing it aside to see his glistening chest. “Goddess, Logan, I love touching you.” She lightly raked her fingers down his abdomen, teasingly lingering just above his waistband.
Logan grumbled in frustration. “It ain’t nice ta tease a man, darlin’.”
She rubbed her hand against him through the cloth, making his erection jerk. “I want to taste you, Logan,” she breathed, sliding gracefully to her knees, lowering his pants as she went.
At the touch of her lips against him Logan felt his whole body clench. God, but she was sweet torture. Her soft pink tongue darted out, catching a bead of moisture from the tip of his aching cock. His growls were coming deeper and faster now, his hips bucking impatiently against her of their own accord. How she made him lose his iron control so quickly was beyond him. No one ever had before. In the past for Logan there had been very little love in the making of it. Cold, detached conquests to get a nut, that was it. But not ‘Ro. Never ‘Ro.
He fisted her hair as she enveloped him in her succulent mouth, moving on him in slow, languid motions, unhurried, seemingly oblivious to the devastation she was inflicting on him. “Fuck, ‘Ro. Awww, hell, baby…” He was panting, his breathing harsh. Ororo placed one hand at his base, moving it in time with her mouth, the other moving behind him, squeezing the hard muscles of his ass, pulling him even closer. “Babe, uuunnghhh, babe…yer gonna…” his hips shuddered. “Aw, fuck.” He felt her finger press against his anal opening and he shook, sweat breaking out on his forehead. “’Ro…?”
She licked his length. “I want to taste you,” she said huskily. “Come for me, love.”
Holy Mary Mother of God!!
Logan’s entire body was engulfed in flames, every muscle contracting to the point of pain as she stroked and sucked him dry, his orgasm so powerful his knees gave way and he collapsed against her, chest heaving.
Ororo stroked his back, holding him to her, kissing his hair. He shuddered again as if little aftershocks were rocketing through his body, which unbeknownst to her, there were. He lifted his head and Ororo was moved to tears by the love she saw there. “Why?” he rasped unbelieving the beautiful gift she had just given him. No one had ever done that for him before.
“I wanted to.” she murmured with a loving smile.
Logan leaned his weight against her, pressing her into the still dew-dampened grass. He watched her face as he ran his hands down the length of her body, his nimble fingers parting her honeyed folds, stroking her sensitive treasure. Ororo’s eyelids fluttered, and she sighed before emitting a soft whimper, biting her lower lip. “Ya like that, darlin’? Ya want more?”
Ororo nodded.
Logan pressed one thick finger into her while his thumb rubbed against her swollen clit. “Tell me,” he said, still watching her face.
“More,” she moaned.
Logan inserted another finger, thrusting them in and out of her. “Yer so tight, baby.” He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse. “So hot.”
Ororo turned her head into his, burying her face in his silk. She could feel her body tingling, the familiar fire pooling in her abdomen. Suddenly Logan’s fingers were gone and she felt the searing heat of his mouth against her. She shattered into a million pieces, her keening cry of release music to his ears. He held her to him as her hips convulsed, captivated by the magnificence of her passion. She looked like a wild wood nymph, laying there, writhing in the grass. A seducer of senses, a creature of nature. His wife.
Feeling his body rousing again at the feel of her ripples against his mouth, Logan moved up her body, sinking into her before her body had stopped shivering. Amazingly Ororo felt herself soaring once again, her second release blinding her and she screamed his name, uncaring if it carried on the wind.
Logan pumped furiously, he too feeling the immediate pressure in his groin, exploding almost immediately. He bit her shoulder, convulsing against her. She in turn bit his, marking him and he rumbled with satisfaction.
“Oh my,” Ororo said in soft awe when their breathing had returned to a semblance of normal.
Logan grinned. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Later
Courtyard

“Hey you two!” Ororo called to Ali and Gambit who were seated next to each other on the fountain’s rim. Gambit was carefully tucking a piece of Ali’s dark hair behind her multi-pierced ear.
“Padnat!” he greeted enthusiastically. “Lookin’ lovely today, chere. Makes dis Cajun sad ta know you be wed.”
Ororo grinned, flashing perfect white teeth. “Flirt.”
“Shameless too,” Ali pointed out with a laugh. “But he’s right, Storm. You look, well, damn blissful. It‘s faintly nauseating.”
Sighing happily Ororo sat beside her two best friends. “You two seem rather chipper this morning yourselves. What gives?”
“Nothin’.”
Ororo raised one eyebrow. “Uh-huh.” She leaned back, filtering the clear water in the fountain’s base through her fingers. “Pregnant?”
Ali smacked her arm. “Not funny. And no! You?”
Storm shook her head, and a brief look of pain crossed her face. “No.” She stood. “Excuse me.”
Ali watched her friend walk away, back ramrod straight. She turned to Gambit. “Did I say something wrong?”
Gambit stroked her hair. “Non, petite bella.” He watched his sister and sighed. “Stormy can’t have children.”
“What? Why not?”
Gambit sighed. “Because of ’er mutant powers. It’d be awfully ‘ard t’ carry a bebe when you’re conducting hundreds of thousands of volts of electricity through your body.”
Ali splashed the water. “God, I’m such an idiot!”
Gambit pulled her into his arms, kissing her spiky head. “You did’n know, Ali.”
Ali leaned into his comforting embrace. “For a scoundrel, Remy Labeau, you have your moments.”
“Sshh, don’ tell.”
Ali leaned forward, kissing him sweetly. “Your secret’s safe with me, Ace.”
Gambit grunted. “What happened t’ Yummy?”
“Oh, you still are.” Ali trailed one hand over his chest.
“And you call me a flirt.”
“I never said I wasn’t. I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.” Gambit stiffened against her. “What is it?”
He stood slowly, peering around the yard. “Jus’ a feelin’, chere. Let’s get inside, non.” He was tugging on her hands.
“Okay, sure.” Ali said a bit befuddled. “We should get to the conference room for the briefing anyways.”
Once inside the Institute Gambit only appeared more agitated. “You all right?”
“Oui. Dis Cajun jus’ got da spooks is all.”
Ali gave him a searching look, but left it alone. “I wonder if we get little happy face stickers at this meeting.” she said opening the conference room door.
“Not today, Alison, but I will make a note of it,” Xavier said dryly.
“Oops.” Ali slid into one of the empty chairs. Gambit didn’t sit, instead standing behind her, almost protectively.
Scott was seated at the far end of the table, speaking quietly to Hank and Jean was busy looking through some folders.
“Hey peeps!” Bobby opened the door, followed by a forlorn looking Kitty.
*BAMF*
Ali noticed Kurt sit at the far end of the table, away from Kitty and she raised an eyebrow. Uh-oh, trouble in fluffy-lovey paradise. Speaking of fluffy-lovey…
Wolverine and Storm strode into the room. Storm was stilling wearing that newly married blissful expression and Ali chuckled. Someone was getting some good lovin’.
Storm turned to Wolverine as he sat. “How about a ride after the meeting?”
“Sounds good.” he nodded. He rocked back in his chair, a lazy smile on his face.
Oh, yeah, good lovin’.
After the other members of the teams arrived as well as some of the graduating underclassmen Xavier began to speak. “Good morning, everyone.”
“Good morning, Professor.” Several students replied.
“As some of you are already aware we are already receiving students for the fall semester.” He clicked on the 3-D projector. “Elizabeth Braddock, telepath. Her family is quite well known in England and being such they decided to send her here. I believe, Warren, you are already acquainted.”
“Yes, sir. Her parents and mine sometime vacationed in the Alps together.”
“Very good. Elizabeth will be on X-Men Black in the fall semester. Next up is Sam Guthrie, aka, Cannonball. He’ll be joining X-Men Red in the fall semester.” A few more clicks. “These are the latest pictures of the sentinel upgrades that are being implemented.” An image of a sentinel wielding long metal whip-like tentacles came on. The whips flayed a jet wide open, sending it to the ground.
“Peachy.” Ali muttered.
Xavier continued, flashing slides, talking about recent FoH activity, new mutant regulations and penalties but all Storm heard was a low humming in her head. She rubbed her temples, trying to concentrate on what he was saying. She was feeling dizzy, the room spinning in front of her.
Low, malicious laughter touched her mind. The feel of fingers stroking her neck, leaving ice cold imprints. No, oh goddess, no! She thought she’d have more time…just a little more time to be happy…
“Professor.” She interrupted him.
Xavier looked at her. “Yes, Storm?”
Wolverine reached for her hand noticing how tense she suddenly was. “Darlin’?”
Storm raised her head slowly, giving Xavier a pleading look. “Get everybody out.”
No hesitation from him. “Everyone out! Now!”
“What’s going on?” Ali demanded, Gambit yanking her from her seat.
“It’s Stormy!” Gambit cried. He gave Ali a hard kiss, shoving her towards the door. “Go!”
Ali reached for him, but Xavier was pushing them all out the door. “Gambit!” Ali screamed as the winds escalated and thunder boomed so loud the ground shook.
Storm flung her hand out. “Brother!” she cried, throwing him with a gust of wind into the hall with the others. “Stay quick,” she whispered, covering her ears with her hands, trying to block out the hideous laughter.
Xavier pushed with his mind, but he couldn’t budge Wolverine, who was kneeling at his wife’s side, holding her hands.
“ Storm what is it?”
She yanked herself away from him, flipping the chair, spilling backwards onto the floor. “Get away!!”
“Storm.” He was moving towards her, worry etched on his face.
“Please…” she moaned. “Go, before I hurt you…”
Wolverine’s entire being focused on the woman before him. His wife. His other half. “It’s him ain’t it? That Farouk fucker.”
Unexpectedly low laughter erupted from Storm as she lay sprawled on the floor. When she spoke it was as if two voices were coming from her, one of them her sweet dulcet tone, another low and dark. “You’ve heard of me? How touching.” A pause, her head cocking to one side. “Stop screaming, child.“ She gave Wolverine a conspiratorial look. “She seeks to protect you, poor thing. She suffers so needlessly.” Storm’s head swiveled and the malevolence in her face turned Wolverine’s blood cold. “Hello again, Xavier.” Wind howled and the walls moaned. “You’ve failed.”
Lightening smashed through the ceiling, throwing Wolverine and Xavier to opposite sides of the room, brick and mortar tumbling from the gaping hole now overhead, the swirling sky now in view. Storm shot straight into the air, her dark laughter echoing on the wind.
Wolverine shook himself, dislodging white paint debris and shoving fallen wood from his body. “Chuck?”
“I am unhurt, Wolverine. We must stop him.”
*X-Men! This is an emergency! Bring Storm down!*
“No!” Wolverine roared, his claws popping out towards Xavier. “Call ‘em off!”
The Professor shook his head sadly. “You are an X-Man, Wolverine. Go do your job!”
“Fuck you, Cue ball! That’s my wife yer talkin’ about.”
Again Xavier shook his head. “No, Wolverine, it isn’t, not anymore. If we don‘t stop her the storm cells she has already begun to create will merge--”
“Yeah, yeah, end of the flamin’ world. I heard it before, and I still don’t give a fuck. Call them off, Chuck, or so help me I’ll be shinin’ that bald head o’ yers over my mantle.”
“Not the end of the world, Wolverine. The enslavement of it! The Shadow King wishes to rule the world, not destroy it, but he will kill many to reach that lofty ambition.”
Lightning flashed, angry white steaks against the darkening clouds. Colossus came crashing through the wall, steel turning to skin as he lost consciousness. Storm was holding her own against the others, but for how long?
“She’s fighting, but he is strong.” Xavier was saying.
Outside thunder boomed and Wolverine caught a glimpse of a red laser streak across the sky. The others had engaged. “Fuck!” He glared at the Professor. “If she’s fighting, then she’s still in there. Call them off!”
“He’ll kill them. They do not matter.”
“They touch her, I’ll kill them!” Wolverine swore. He meant it, Xavier realized. A brief touch of his mind and Charles knew with certainty that Wolverine meant it. He would kill anyone that touched her.
Charles closed his eyes, wincing as though in pain. *Fall back, my X-Men.*
Wolverine retracted his claws.
Rain poured in through the open ceiling, soaking both men instantly with the heavy weight of it. The dull roar of a tornado could be heard as well as screaming students.
Xavier pressed his eyes tighter. “She’s getting…weaker…He caught her… off guard… she thought he’d come while she was… sleeping, she was …prepared for that…She wants you… to stop her,” Xavier rasped opening his eyes.
Wolverine was ballistic. “No!”
“She’s coming.” Xavier said quietly.
Storm dropped through ceiling, waterlogged and weary. She plowed into Wolverine, who caught her up against him, grunting on impact. “Storm!” He tried to pull her close but she pushed at him.
“I don’t have much time,” she said. She touched his face. “I love you, Logan, never doubt that. But I need you to do what you do best now.”
“No.” he ground out.
“Yes!” she cried.
“Yer fighting him, ‘Ro! Ya can beat this.”
She hung her head, long, wet clumps of hair falling in her face. “I can’t.”
“You can!” He shook her. “Goddamn it, you will!”
Ororo looked up at him and the tormented pain he saw in her blue eyes ate at him. His heart thudded dully, the sound echoing in his ears. She was crying in the rain, begging him to help her. “Fight, ‘Ro!”
“I can't fight him! Not every second of every day, never slipping, not even for an instant, Logan, please!” She pressed his knuckles against her chest. “If you love me…Please!”
Ororo watched as every emotion in the spectrum of human emotions played across his face. His jaw clenched, and his teeth ground. He stared at her with his dark eyes, his breathing ragged and torn from his chest. His lower lip trembled slightly as she tugged on his hand, begging, and his chin dimpled with a repressed roar.
“Logan, millions will die…please…”
He took a deep, shuddering breath. He nodded at her and she smiled. “I love you.“
“I love you, too, ‘Ro,” He clenched his fist. She was smiling at him, all the love she held for him there in her cerulean eyes for him to see, thanking him for this favor, this release from a lifetime of torture and torment, and…he couldn’t do it. Wolverine the hunter, the assassin, merciless killer and man rumored to be without a soul, couldn’t do it. Sworn protector of innocents and he was going to let the world be destroyed because he couldn’t unsheathe his claws into his wife’s chest.
“Logan…” Ororo whispered in forgiveness. Her shoulders started shaking, dark laughter boiling up from inside her throat. “Coward,” the duel voice hissed. “You shall be the first…What? Charles, help me! You know what must be done! Silence, child!” Storm looked back at Wolverine. “Before this is over, I shall let you watch as I make her my queen in every way.” Storm ‘s hands roamed up her body. She was suddenly still, almost frozen, then “XAVIER!!”
Flashes of bright white light, the heaven’s raining down upon them and Wolverine felt his body being lifted and thrown across the room with such force he plowed through four walls. He lay sunned and bleeding, his vision blurring and then the world went black.





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