Xavier Institute
Early Morning
Ororo entered the kitchen quietly. It was early yet and she was hoping to miss the crowd. She’d been at Xavier’s for two weeks now and had become acquainted with most of her teammates, save a few, and learned the patterns of the household. Most students didn’t get up until seven, so that gave her an hour to get her breakfast and get out before the mob of teenagers hit.
Most days her routine was the same, training, lessons, Danger Room. But since Storm was never one for routine and found it stifling, she occasionally would take a nightly stroll, more often than not trailed by a silent Wolverine. She didn’t know whether or not he knew she was aware of him, so she kept quiet as well. She began to grow accustomed to his shadow after awhile and found herself strangely comforted by his presence. She was glad he didn’t speak to her, however. She had found herself thinking of him far too frequently since that first night and he had walked with her in the woods, and she didn’t need those kind of complications in her life.
Inside the kitchen she noticed Cyclops seated at a long table. He was chewing a mouthful of bran flakes and the redhead, Marvel Girl, was leaning over his shoulder, arms across his back, reading the newspaper with him. Somehow that fit, Ororo thought.
Also in the kitchen, seated at the table was a young woman with spiked dark hair, covered in piercing, her feet up, apple in her hand, chewing absently as she read a magazine article. She gave Ororo a brief once over then returned to her magazine. Despite the dismissive gesture Storm liked the girl on sight. She had a street edge to her that Ororo could relate to.
Making her way to the coffee machine Ororo asked, “Who moved the mugs?”
Scott looked up from his paper and gave her a brief smile. “Second cupboard to the left. If you want I can get that for you.”
She shook her head gently, causing her thick snow tresses to glimmer in the sunlight. “No, the day I’m too invalid to get my own coffee someone’s going to have to put me down.”
The spiked hair girl snorted, her gaze on Jean, a crooked smile on her face. Jean was scowling at Storm and Ororo got the distinct impression that Jean was probably waited on a lot.
Ignoring Jean‘s dark scowl Ororo poured her coffee. “I don’t think we’ve met,” she said, approaching the pierced young woman.
“No. Name’s Ali.”
“Storm.” Ororo took the seat next to her, reaching for an orange. She took a sip from her steaming mug. It was a tad weak for her liking, but good enough. She nearly spilled the hot liquid all over her lap when a younger girl with brown hair and honey eyes materialized through the floor, dropping down into one of the empty chairs.
“Morning!” The girl said, her voice light and chipper. ”Hey, you’re the new girl!”
“Her name’s Storm,” Ali said around a mouthful of apple.
“Nice, Dazzler.” Jean said with an upturned nose. In response Ali opened her mouth wider, wiggling the half chewed fruit around with her tongue. Jean looked away with a grimace.
“Alison.” Cyclops warned.
Ali closed her mouth, opening her magazine and strategically placing it in front of her face so as to not have to look at anyone else.
“Storm’s a neat name,” Kitty was saying. “I’m Kitty Pryde.” She smiled at Ororo.
“You know, Kitty, we have doors.” Jean said. She gestured to her empty cup and Cyclops rose to get her some more juice. “It’s just plain rude not to use them.” Jean continued.
“I know.” Kitty looked down at the table. A slight flush crept up her neck.
“Why bother,” Ororo said. “I mean I sure as heck wouldn’t waste time with doors if I could walk through walls. The whole point of this school is to use our powers without the stigma placed on us from the outside world. So I say if you can walk through walls then walk through walls and like it.“ She gave Kitty a wink, feeling suddenly protective of the younger girl. Kitty beamed.
“You won’t say that when she walks through your bedroom in the middle of the night.” Jean replied.
‘Hey! That only happened once!” Kitty defended.
Ororo didn’t respond. Over the past couple of weeks she had gotten the distinct impression that Marvel girl liked to have the last word, and since she just didn’t care all that much about this particular conversation, she may as well let her have it. Instead, Ororo pushed against the skin of her orange with her fingernail. Tough little bugger.
The small group of them sat in silence, the sound of crunching bran flakes the only noise to be heard until the outside kitchen door flung open and Wolverine strode in. Immediately Jean straightened away from Scott and Kitty tried to sink lower in her chair. He gave them all his usually predatory stare, his dark eyes fierce.
Entering the kitchen Logan found his gaze immediately drawn to Ororo. She had crossed his mind a dozen times last night after he had seen her back from her walk.
She was seated in one of the high-backed chairs surrounding the kitchen table, her head bent forward as though she was concentrating on something. He took in her appearance at a glance, blue shredded tank top, dark jeans, plain white canvas sneakers. Her hair hung loose, obscuring most of her face from his view, but he knew she was aware of his presence. He could tell by her slight shift in body position. It was almost instinctive on her part, he noted. She constantly seemed on guard.
Ororo, sensing being scrutinized, glanced up and noticed that Wolverine was looking straight at her. She inclined her head in greeting but said nothing, still working on her orange.
“Morning, Wolverine.” Jean walked to him. He grunted down at her. She kissed him, her tongue clearly visible in the exchange and Ororo almost laughed. The other woman was obviously trying to make it clear that this was her man. Cyclops dropped his spoon into his ceramic bowl with a clang.
“Don’t you have somewhere else you could take that?” he said darkly. “Some of us are trying to eat.”
Jean broke away, slightly flushed. She hadn’t meant to hurt Scott, she genuinely liked him, but when she had noticed Wolverine giving Storm the once over she wanted to make it clear who belonged to whom.
“Relax, Scooter.“ Wolverine growled at Scott, his gaze glittering.
Scott stood up. “I‘m team leader and I say no making out in the kitchen.”
The argument was ridiculous and Ororo was curious as to how Wolverine would respond. He simply turned his back on Scott, kissing Jean again. His broad back muscles flexed beneath his tight black shirt.
“Are you listening to me?” Scott demanded, shoving Wolverine in the shoulder from behind.
Wolverine let out a low growl, whirling with a -SNIKT-, the tips of three adamantium blades less than an inch from Cyclops’s chin. “Don’t touch me, Bub,” Wolverine snarled. Jean reached for him but his lips curled back revealing his fangs. A growl rumbling from his throat, causing her to fall back.
The room became deadly silent, tension and fear thick in the air. Ororo stood up, placing her hand on Wolverine’s arm saying lightly, “Thank goodness, I thought I’d be all day getting this damn thing peeled.” She stuck her orange right on one of his extended claws.
Wolverine looked at her like she had just gone insane. His lips still curled back baring his fangs, rumbling in his throat. Didn’t she realize how dangerous he was? Ororo stared at him without flinching and he saw it in her eyes, yes she did know, and she was taking a calculated risk, drawing his attention from Cyclops to her. Brave girl. Once again he found himself impressed by her.
He took a step away from Cyclops, retracting his claws, sending the orange to the floor with a thump. Cyclops, shaken, strode from the room, slamming the door as he went.
“Jesus, Wolverine. There was no need for that!” Jean exclaimed, racing after Scott.
“Remind me not to talk to you until you've had your morning coffee.” Ororo said teasingly, taking her seat again.
“If you’ll all excuse me I think I need to change my underwear.” Kitty stood up, walking through the nearest wall, anxious to get away.
Alison gave Storm a smile of approval before folding her magazine and leaving as well.
“You sure know how to clear a room,” Ororo muttered. She had hoped not to be alone with him. Walking in the woods while he was at a distance, she was ok with, but up close where she could see his steel gray eyes, his artlessly curved lips, the blue on black highlights in his hair. She found herself drawn to him and it was a decidedly uncomfortable feeling for her.
Logan took the seat right next to her, turning it so he was straddling it, gazing at her with his predatory eyes. He could hear her heart racing, her breathing becoming a little quicker. He reached down, picking up her orange. He held it out to her.
“Thanks.” She snatched it from his hand, looking at the back where his claws had exploded from. “Neat trick,” she said.
-Snikt- He once again extended three blades, slowly this time so not to frighten her. Without thought Ororo reached out, tracing the blades from tip to base, along the back of his hand and along his forearm. Wolverine’s eyes darkened at her touch. No one had ever touched him like this, with a mixture of respect and reverence. He felt his blood pounding in his head.
“See you around.” Ororo said suddenly. She started to rise, but he reached out, his large hand encircling her wrist. “What’s the rush?” Her pulse beat like mad beneath his thumb. He sniffed the air. She was nervous, he could tell. It seemed strange that she could face him down in confrontation but tensed when they were alone…
Running with a theory he stroked his thumb across the tender skin on the inside of her wrist. He heard her breath catch and she yanked her hand away. “I don’t like to be touched,” she said, stepping back.
Wolverine grinned wolfishly. “Oh, but I think you do,” he said huskily, his eyes knowing. Ororo said nothing, simply grabbed her coffee mug off the table. He watched her walk away with lazy appreciation for the way her hips swayed. As soon as she was gone Wolverine lost his smile. He’d better keep his distance from her, he thought. She was too much temptation and he couldn’t afford to get involved.
Xavier Institute
Afternoon
Back Lawn
Ororo hit the ground hard, her elbows jarring against the terrain. The mutant she had her legs wrapped around bellowed, and she tightened her thighs. “Uncle! Uncle!” he cried. Ororo gave another hard squeeze before she unlocked her ankles, releasing Bobby Drake from her hold.
“Good, Storm.” Came Cyclops’s encouraging voice.
She and a some of the other X-Men were behind the institute doing some basic grappling exercises. Shortly after breakfast she had found a package outside her bedroom door labeled: Uniform. She had grimaced when she opened it, revealing a garment of tight black leathery spandex with yellow trim. “Costumes,” she had said scrunching her nose. “Nifty.” Also in the box had today’s schedule. She would be training most of the day, which suited her fine. She was in no mood to deal with Xavier. He had been hovering around a lot the past few days.
“Yeah, good,” Bobby was muttering, rubbing his throbbing knees. The chick had friggin’ figure-foured him!
“Thanks,” she said, taking the bottle of water Cyclops was holding out for her.
“Okay, Kitty and Rhane, you’re up!” he commanded. The two girls stepped forward, one with brown hair and honey eyes, the other covered in rust colored fur. At Cyclops’s whistle they began circling one another.
“Where’d you learn a takedown like that?” he asked after a moment.
“A friend.” She squirted a stream of water into her mouth. Storm was going to ask him about the Danger Room schedule when she noticed Cyclops get ramrod straight, his jaw clenched and hands fisted at his side.
Glancing across the yard she spotted Wolverine and Jean Grey locked in a heated embrace. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and his hands were cupping her rear.
“Your girl?” She asked mildly.
“Apparently not.”
“But you want her to be.”
Cyclops looked down at her. “That obvious?”
“Uh, yeah.” She gave him a look.
“We were on our way to being a couple, but then he showed up.” He flicked his thumb in the direction of the oblivious couple. Now laying on the grass, still locked together.
Ororo shook her head. “Don’t blame him. If you really want her, her being with another man shouldn’t stand in your way. Besides, you‘ll never get a girl like her to appreciate you by being her beck and call boy.” She took another drink of water, watching the two girls scrambling in front of her as opposed to the two writhing forms across the field.
“Excuse me?” Cyclops didn’t appear amused by her terminology.
“I saw you at breakfast.” Storm said. “Getting her juice, buttering her toast. She has you wrapped around her little finger. You want Marvel Girl to notice you, then stop being around so much. She needs to realize you‘re your own man. Because obviously that is what she wants, Cyclops. A man.”
“What she’s got is an animal,” he countered.
Ororo didn’t reply. There was no point. Cyclops had his mind made up about Wolverine and that was that. She finished off her water. “I’m going to hit the showers,” she said after a minute.
“All right. Good job today.” Scott replied, still staring across the field. Why he tortured himself like this he would never know, but he always seemed to be watching them together. He flicked his gaze to Storm’s receding form and wondered if she were right. Then as she removed her black jacket revealing the tight black top of their uniform, he wondered if he should be keeping his options open.
Cyclops gave himself a mental shake. Storm was beyond attractive, but there was something about her that unsettled him, much the way Wolverine did. Whenever either of them was around he got the impression of barely concealed power, of careful control. Although Wolverine tended to lose that more and more frequently, Scott knew that Wolverine exerted control over himself more often than not, and he grudgingly respected the guy for it.
With Storm it was almost like she held herself in check. He wondered if she ever lost her cool, thinking of the events in the kitchen earlier. He doubted it. She was too much like ice. No, he liked his women warm and loving, not icy and reserved. He wanted Jean and no one else.
Ororo glanced over her shoulder as she topped the small hill heading back to the institute. They were still there, Jean leaning over Wolverine as he lay in the grass. She hated the feeling watching them together brought out in her. It wasn’t jealousy, although she found Logan alarmingly attractive, but instead it was envy. Ororo had spent her life on the run, never tied to one place for very long. She had only ever been close with one other person and she’d had to leave him to protect him from the danger that followed her. Xavier had promised her that he would help her, but so far all he seemed concerned with was her performance as an X-Man. Ororo was beginning to feel the familiar desire to be free, to be on her own. Turning away from the scene below she made her way into the Institute, her heart heavy with two different kinds of longing.
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