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Chapter Fourteen: Light on Dark

“I can find nothing linking your knowledge of Japanese and the image of bonsai trees to any sort of memory,” the Professor said, a bit of sadness in his voice.

Outside, the fog and rain continued, tearing at Logan’s heart. He had decided to not pursue her, not when the fog began. Rain he could have handled on it’s own, fog, however, said Ororo was worried. Her worry would not be helped by Logan’s presence. He would have to see her later.

Jean had been taken to her bedroom, ushered there by a concerned One-Eye and chiding Beast. Hank had explained the incident Jean and Storm had been through as teenagers. They had located Storm quickly, but Jean had been lost for hours in the thick woods that surrounded the home. When Ororo had found her, Jean had nearly driven herself into her mind, calling for her sister.

Shaking his head, Logan addressed the Professor. “I didn’t think so. It happened too fast for me to make sense of it.”

“You’re taking this rather well, Wolverine,” the bald man commented, sitting back in his wheelchair.

He shrugged. “I’m learning that the past isn’t really as important as the present.”

Logan could have sworn the older mutant smirked. “I see.”

“The mind needs to discover things on its own, right?” Logan said sardonically.

This time, Charles did smirk. Widely. “As does the heart, Logan.”

The steady beat of raindrops on the window made him look up, wondering what she was doing up there. Would the sound, smell, feel of rain always remind him of her? Even when it was over between them and there was nothing but memory? Would he find solace in a storm as she did, long after the remembrance of her touch had faded from his flesh?

“Thinking is, at times, overrated, Logan,” the Professor said quietly. “In fact, I know a certain young woman with extraordinary talents who spends far too much time doing just that.”

“Didn’t I tell you to butt out?”

“Yes, though I find it increasingly difficult with the way you two project.”
Frowning, Logan raised an eyebrow in question. Projecting? Could Chuck and Jean feelwhat happened to him the second Storm appeared?

“Loudly, my friend,” Charles replied to his silent question. “And it is not an unpleasant emotion in the least.”

Logan stood. “We done?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Good. I’ve got shit to do.”

He left the office without so much as a backward glance, grumbling to himself. A sharp clap of thunder made him shake his head. She was certainly trying to get some attention. Irritated that everything in his body urged him to bolt up the stairs and calm her into bringing them clear skies, Logan turned toward the kitchen, picking up the sweet scent of Rogue before he entered.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted, grabbing a beer from the cupboard.

“Hi,” she replied, spooning a bit of the apple pie Jean had made that morning into her mouth. “What’s wrong with Storm? She ruined our pool time.”

“Jean had some kind of conniption in the living room, been rainin’ ever since,” Logan said simply, hopping onto a stool opposite his friend.

“Huh. An’ you’re down here why?”

He silently shrugged, wanting to change the subject. It was obvious that everyone in the mansion knew about his relationship with Storm. Wind howled almost every night, banging the shutters against the wall and it wasn’t like they were quiet about it either. It was just…uncomfortable to talk about something that he liked keeping to himself.

“When’s the Firecracker gettin’ here?”

Rogue grinned broadly around a mouthful of pie. Logan chuckled. The kid was cute when she put her mind to it.

“ Bout eight,” she gushed. “Ah can’t wait.”

“Three Musketeers, back in action, eh?”

“Just for one day, then Kitten is off ta college without us,” Rogue frowned, picking at her pie.

“Sorry, kid. I know you’ll miss her,” Logan reached over, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Ah will, but at least Ah have all of you ta keep me company.”

“How are you holdin’ up? After the fight in the club, I mean?” he changed the subject again, not wanting Rogue to wallow in self-pity. Not with him in the room, anyway.

“All right, Ah guess. Ah was scared for awhile, but then Peter showed up in time ta yank Pyro offa me. He’s scary when he’s pissed off,” she mused quietly.

“I noticed,” Logan agreed, watching her carefully.

“Yah know, Ah was thinkin’ bout it. Ah shouldn’t be so…scared. Ah want ta train more,” she confessed. “Ah don’t wanna be a victim again.”

“Hey,” he shushed her, moving around the island to sit beside her. “You’re not a victim, kid. You’ve got everyone here looking to you for help and there if you need ‘em. We’ll get you trained up, don’t worry.”

She smiled up at him, hugging him tightly, though he could feel her adjusting to make sure her skin did not come in contact with his. He had already thought over the kids’ training, knowing it had not been nearly enough. But, Scott had other classes to worry about, not just teaching the young how to kick some ass. That, now, was his job. His only job. With Rogue in the mix, he knew he had to do something drastic. It was one of the main reasons the Danger Room had been built.

Thunder clapped loudly again and Logan’s heart tore a little. He released his hold on Rogue, looking back up at the ceiling, frowning as he did so. She’d had a point this afternoon. They had let everything slide, so until he was finished talking with his little sister, Storm was just going to have to wait.

“Yah like her, doncha?” she broke into his thoughts, grinning.

“Yeah, maybe,” he replied, knowing she was the only person in the world he wouldn’t growl at for asking.

“Ah think it’s great,” she went on, taking another bite of pie and then talking around it. “She’s feisty, sweet, sexy as hell…”

“What?” he scowled at her.

“She is! Come on, Logan. Jus’ be honest for once. Yah like her.”

Chuckling at the way she seemed to know him even better than himself, he held his hands up, nodding. “Yeah. I do. A lot. Happy?”

She nodded empathically. “Yessir.”

Twirling his beer bottle’s lip with his thumb and forefinger, he settled his other arm on the tiled island, thinking it all over. Days of secret looks and nights of long talks and aching flesh against flesh. It had seemed dreamlike until last night, when the cold hand of fear threatened to release the beast within.

It was for that reason alone that he had programmed the Danger Room to include the Brotherhood, his only release stemming from a brief moment of satisfaction that he had beaten them. They had hurt her, and Rogue, and for that he wanted to kill them all with his bare hands.

“She’s Claustrophobic,” he said at last, keeping his tone even. “That’s why she was so bad off.”

Rogue toyed with the handle of her spoon. “Poor thing.”

“Yeah. When she was a kid, she was trapped under rubble, watched her parents die. Fucked her up.”

“God.”

“She told me that and all I wanted to do was murder Magneto. I don’t want anyone to ever hurt her,” he finished quietly.

“Ah know, Logan. Ah can see that every time she walks in the room,” Rogue replied just as softly.

“I don’t really know what to do with that.”

She shrugged. “Live with it. Don’ let fear get in the way, Logan. Yah want her? Grab hold an’ don’ let go.”

He smirked, looking over to her. “When did you get wise?”

Winking, she shrugged again. “Ah had a good teacher. He told me it’s a rare thing for someone ta genuinely wanna help another.”

Logan leaned over, kissing her hair gently and hugging her close for a moment. “Where would I be if you hadn’t jumped into my truck?”

Rogue gripped him more tightly. “Ah don’ like thinkin’ bout that.”

~@~


He left Rogue as she went off to get ready for her evening. Cyclops was taking Kitty and Rogue to meet Jubilee’s plane and then the boys would meet up for dinner out. He heard Scott telling them that Jean was coming along as well. Trusting Colossus could keep everything under control, even if Jean had another telepathic conniption, he headed out of doors, directly into his lover’s storm.

The thunder had abated and the fog was thinning, but the rain had only increased. He sighed, letting the cold drops of water soak him, inhaling the scent of rain that reminded him so much of her.

She was becoming more of an addiction every day. He felt his world torn to chaos if she was not around and order came to him at the slightest whiff of her scent. Logan found himself valuing her opinion, especially when it came to teaching. She would laugh at some of his more outrageous suggestions, but when he was serious, she took in every word and gave him an honest answer.

For a little over two weeks this had been going on, and in that time Logan could scarcely remember how he’d gone without her. Sure, he was independent to a fault, but so was she. He could not deny that there was a comfort in knowing someone else was there to listen, if nothing else. Ororo had become a fixture in his life, much like Rogue had. There was something that had drawn him in, not willing to let go.

He turned to walk along the path in the garden that “belonged” to her. Several of the X-Men had an interest in botany, though why he couldn’t really figure out, so the Professor had given them each a piece of the large garden to call their own.

Hank’s was filled with vegetables and melons, most of which they used for meals at the mansion or Jean canned for the winter. Jean’s was filled with bright flowers. Ororo’s, on the other hand, had long vines creeping up the garden wall and was filled with herbs she used for cooking or making her own incense. And lilac. She loved purple flowers.

Raindrops sliding from his hair to his face made him remember that morning in the Danger Room. He had been horrified at first, knowing she had seen him at his worst, a raging, howling animal. She had been afraid. He knew that. But her actions after the slaughter confused him.

Holding his hand that way, asking to feel his claws as they released…what had started that? He felt privileged when she looked upon him that way, as though he were good, worthy. Something told him she had not feared him, but for him. That, of course, didn’t make a lick of sense.

And then, watching her had only drawn him more closely to her. That feral storm she conjured from still air, wind so powerful he’d had to kneel just to stay off of his back. The joy in her face as she hovered above, her powers culminating in a ferocity that oozed raw nature. Without knowing why, he’d howled up at her.

In response, those hurricane-force winds shrieked back to him. A shiver had gone up his spine at that. Nature at it’s best. Animal and element. He had never known such peace as that moment, knowing she was there, embracing her “beast” with him.

This was no longer a simple thing, his attraction to ‘Ro. She was as untamed as he, though she kept herself in a tighter check. She had to; he knew that. If she released too often, the devastation would be limitless. In her he found calm. In him she found chaos.

Things were definitely getting complicated.

Logan turned back toward the mansion, wondering what she was doing. Was she alone in her bedroom, just listening to the rain? Or was she waiting for him? He increased his pace a little, suddenly needing his arms around her, protecting her.

Don’ let fear get in the way, Logan. Yah want her? Grab hold an’ don’ let go.

Rogue’s words came back to him, mingled with the conversation he’d had with One-Eye the day of that damn movie.

You really don’t know, do you?

It hit Logan like an adamantium fist to the gut. Everything he’d tried to brush off as lust and lonesomeness, the way he always wanted to make her smile, the unbelievable feeling of contentment he found in her embrace. He took off back toward the mansion at a run.

He could be making the biggest mistake in his life, but he was now positive he was falling in love with ‘Ro.

And he liked that idea.

~@~

He barely had time to knock before the door to her bedroom opened. Taking the invitation, Logan entered quickly, closing the door behind him with an audible snap, even above the rain’s continued downpour. He sniffed the air carefully, catching a hint of anxiety from her.

Storm stood at her balcony, doors thrust open, curtains billowing in the breeze, rain falling at her feet. Her white hair seemed to dance in the play of her candlelight, which he noticed smell faintly of sandalwood.

Paying no heed to his dripping clothing and sloshing boots, he moved across the room, coming up behind her. Ororo sighed softly when he reached her, turning slowly until she was facing him.

“’Ro,” he whispered, reaching for her with a wet hand.
She took a single step closer to him. He smirked a bit when he noted she had put his shirt back on. It was soaking up the water from his wet chest, but she didn’t seem to mind. She smiled softly, leaning into his hand. Her arms lay gently over his, her body touching his completely now.

“Don’t worry,” he told her quietly. “Stop thinkin’, for once.”

Ororo’s eyes slowly shifted from white, but the rain did not stop. She blinked up at him, one hand covering his, splaying her fingers over his knuckles.

“I can never think when you are with me,” she admitted in a hushed tone. “And that frightens me.”

“Shh, don’t be afraid.”

“You give me strength.”

A lump formed in his throat at her delicate admission. He pulled her chin up with his hand, brushing his lips gently across hers. Such a simple touch and yet it made his heart beat faster in his chest.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers.

“You’re my light, ‘Ro,” he whispered. “My ‘Ro.”

It was the first time he had ever tacked a “my” onto his favorite pet name for her. He could see the realization in her eyes, the subtle shift in her heartbeat as it turned from rhythmic thudding to pounding erratically.

Her hands gripped the hem of his sopping shirt. Slowly peeling it from his chest. Her eyes never left his, even when he raised his arms to aid her. Ororo dropped the shirt on the floor behind him.

Tugging on his belt buckle, she drew him closer, urging his hands to slide down her back, pressing her to him. He could feel the warm swells of her breasts against him, her scent filling his nostrils, rain mixed with arousal.

Walking backward, Storm drew him to the bed. He followed, captivated by the raw emotion in her eyes, surprised it was not howling about them in wind-form. Her hands glided over his bare chest, heating his already warm flesh before she buried them in his hair, pulling his head down so she could kiss him.

‘Ro’s tongue darted from her mouth, caressing his bottom lip. With a strangled groan, Logan’s hands found their way to her firm backside, taking her off of her feet in one smooth motion. Her long, chocolate colored legs wrapped instantly about his waist, arms winding around his neck.

Her tongue massaged his relentlessly, drawing the breath from his lungs. Logan carefully took the last few steps to the bed, bending his knees to drop them both onto her down-soft comforter. Ororo’s hair fanned out around her head as he drew back from her addicting kiss. She smiled seductively up at him and he captured her lips once more.

Once need for air forced him to break their kiss, he smoothed his lips over her jaw and down to her neck, licking at her pulse point. She had to have the best skin on the face of the earth. Silky, dark flesh stretched over long, lean muscles teased him every day. She covered her figure well, but he knew what was beneath the façade.

Marking the skin at her neck, he slid a hand down the flannel of the shirt she wore, between her breasts. His eyes on hers, he slowly released a claw with a muted snikt.

Her eyes did not flinch, not even as he slipped the adamantium digit into a space between the buttons. Keeping her gaze, he worked the razor-sharp metal up the seam, taking each button off one at a time. Ororo’s eyes fluttered shut, her back arching only slightly, into the touch of his claw.

Unbelievably turned on by her reaction, he moved the claw the opposite direction, destroying the remaining buttons until the shirt was open, revealing a long patch of that smoky skin. He retracted the claw quickly, noting her eyes opened and a small smile formed on her luscious lips.

Lowering his head, Logan licked the path of exposed flesh, from the edge of her baby blue panties, over the dip of her navel, across the swell of her ribcage. He paused at the bottom tip of her breastbone, where only weeks ago he had pushed her heart to beat again. Kissing that sacred place, he continued on, working his way past the shallow valley between her breasts until he reached her throat.

Ororo writhed beneath him, his arousal growing with every mewling whimper from her perfect mouth. He kissed her gently again; hands moving up to spread the shirt further apart, revealing her perfect skin to his feasting eyes.

“Logan,” she whispered breathily, arching her chest closer to him.

Not willing to turn down such an inviting offer, he leaned down, taking a dark peak into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. Ororo cried out, one hand finding it’s way into his hair as the other smoothed over his shoulders.

Logan paid equal attention to her other breast, caressing her skin with his calloused hands. She crooned his name again, making the two simple syllables sound like a prayer. His heart constricted, arousal growing with every move she made, every breathy sigh. Painfully aware of his jeans, he pulled back quickly.

She sat up, shrugging out of his shirt and sliding her panties from her legs as he fumbled with his belt, finally wrenching it from the loops of his jeans and tossing it away.

He shimmied out of his wet jeans and boxers, kicking his boots off. Her previously spotless bedroom would be a wreck, but he was pretty sure she wasn’t going to mind. Turning back to his own personal goddess, Logan knelt before her on the bed.

Ororo kneeled as well, kissing him gently, all of her smooth skin pressed against him. His hands wound their way into her white tresses, keeping her to him. Their heartbeats seemed to be in sync as they fell into their passionate embrace. Hands developing a mind of their own, they touched every inch of her they could find. Ororo gasped and groaned under his touch, her hands copying every movement.

“Logan,” she whispered again.

“Ororo,” he countered, letting the beauty of her name roll off of his tongue.

“Promise me.”

“What?” he spoke against her lips.

“That you will not run away again,” Ororo’s eyes were filled with a desperation he felt mirrored in his own heart.

“I promise you, Ororo. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

She roped him back into another passionate kiss. He felt her legs shift until she slid her backside onto his thighs, the heat from her core radiating from her.

“God, ‘Ro,” he groaned, hips arching to meet hers of their own accord.

“My Logan,” she chanted, reaching a delicate hand between their bodies.

He gasped when her hand encircled him, gliding her body closer to his until his arousal brushed against her wet folds. Pressing his lips harder against hers, he poured everything he felt into it. She pushed back against him, even as she rocked her hips, sheathing him in her warmth as though by instinct.

They pulled away from the kiss in unison, moaning one another’s names. He trembled, overcome with the feeling of complete peace that washed over him. This, this was what he had sought so long for. Suddenly, nothing else about him mattered. Just her. Only this.

Moving against her, Logan buried his face in her neck, rewarded when she wrapped her arms and legs around him, thrusting her hips against his. He matched her, plunging into her with every motion of her slender hips.

The scent of them surrounded him. Rain, sex, cigars and the hint of sandalwood from her lit candles. Candlelight flickered over them both, and when he pulled away, he could see it reflecting in her eyes.

He urged her onto her back, enjoying the feel of her beneath him, where he could protect her from anyone and anything. Her legs inched higher on his hips, allowing him to move more deeply within her. Ororo cried out, reaching one hand for the headboard. Logan growled a little, knowing he was losing control as she was.

“’Ro,” he warned, pulling back to thrust roughly into her.

“Yes,” she panted. “More, my Logan…my… Wolverine.”

All hell broke loose.

He propped himself on his hands, slamming hard into her over and over again. Ororo only cried louder. Her legs tightened around him like a vice, her eyes turning bright white as he drove her body into the mattress.

“My ‘Ro…my Storm…” he growled as a massive gust of wind swirled around them.

He dimly noted a drop in the bedroom’s temperature, but he pushed the thought away, concentrating on the growing fire within him. Ororo met his every thrust, though he knew he should be hurting her.

Logan could feel a sudden change in her, a frantic arching of her body, her inner walls clenching around him. She felt incredible, hot, wet, carefully molded to his body as if God designed her with Logan in mind.

Crushing his mouth to hers, he swallowed her cries as she climaxed, growling his approval as she continued to move against him, her tongue pushing into his mouth to duel with his.

In and out. In and out. “Ah, God!” he cried into her mouth, unable to think of anything save the feel of being buried inside her, the ache in his chest that only she could fill.

With another hard thrust, Logan toppled over the edge, white-hot light erupting behind his eyes. Ororo cried out as well, the fingernails of her hand digging into his back to the point of pain. He thrust rigidly into her thrice more before he stilled, shaking as he held himself above her.

Ororo’s legs went limp, falling to the side of his thighs. Her eyes were open, her entire body convulsing around his. Sweat had covered them both, coupled with a distinct chill. Logan could not take his eyes from hers, shocked to the core at the depth of emotion coming from the blue pools.

“Logan…I…” she swallowed hard, as though something was very hard to say.

He understood. It was on the tip of his tongue as well, but his stubborn mouth refused to form the words. Nodding, he kissed her sweetly.

“I know. I can’t either, but I know you know,” Logan said roughly.

She gave him a beautiful smile, wrapping a shaking hand around his neck to rope him back into a kiss. He shifted his weight onto his elbows, wanting to be closer to her. Hell, if he could, he would crawl completely into her and never come out.

As he moved, his hand came into contact with something very wet and very cold on the bed. Frowning over Ororo’s lips, he opened an eye, searching for the mysterious cause.

He pulled away, chuckling and shaking his head. At her confused glare, Logan nodded to the bed.

“Snow, darlin’? That’s a new one,” he teased, disengaging from her to look around.

Soft, pure white snow covered Ororo’s entire bedroom. She sat up, holding onto Logan for support, then threw her head back and laughed. He loved that sound. Only once or twice had she actually full on laughed in his presence. It gave him a warm feeling, hearing that melodic voice filled with humor.

“Oh my. I have never done that…” she giggled almost girlishly, making him smirk.

“Never? So what emotion does this one mean? I’ve got the others down, I think,” he shook his head, sitting on the edge of her bed, feet ankle-deep in Ororo’s snow.

She settled comfortably in his lap, shifting until her back was to his chest, dangling her feet in the snow and kicking it up, as though it was perfectly natural for there to be snow in her bedroom.

“I honestly do not know,” Storm said, raising her hands, palms facing the ceiling.

He felt her body charge with electricity, placing his palms flat on her back as she seemed to hum with power. Logan felt a gust of warm wind swirl around them, creating a small cyclone in the center of her bedroom.

Fascinated, he watched her usher the perfect snow from her bedroom, collecting it as though it were a pile of dust. Moving her hands gently, she pushed it all outside. He could feel the thrum of power fade from her back as she lay against him.

Logan wrapped his arms around her, holding her naked form to his, closing his eyes with utter contentment. There was no fear here, in this embrace. There was gentle understanding, quiet peace.
Ororo relaxed against him, stroking the fingers he had laced across her abdomen. With a thumb, he traced the outline of her scar, a relic from the day that changed his life. They sat that way in comfortable silence for a long time, relishing this time together.

“Hey, Storm!”

Scott’s call from outside made them both jump. Logan released his claws instinctively, noting that Ororo had remained completely composed. She tapped on the adamantium gently.

“Do put those away, Logan. You could take someone’s eye out.”

He smirked broadly at her, remembering her reaction to the cool metal on her flesh and wanting to find out if her thighs were as responsive. Snikt. He retracted his claws quickly, allowing Storm to leave his lap without being skewered.

His lover pulled on that satiny blue robe he adored, white hair sticking out in every direction, lips bruised, hips swaying with afterglow. She looked wild and he loved it. He stood as well, pulling on his wet jeans, not bothering to button them up as he followed her outside.

“What is it, Scott?” Ororo said casually, leaning over her balcony to look down at their leader.

Logan purposefully stood right beside her, dropping all pretenses as he propped his elbows on the stone ledge, wishing he had a cigar to go with his look. Ororo quirked the side of her perfect mouth at him in amusement.

Cyclops sighed loudly, holding his arms out as he gestured to the four inches of snow that blanketed the grounds.

“Jesus, ‘Ro,” Logan whispered to her. “Had a good time?”

She replied by cocking her hip toward him, keeping her attention on Scott.

“Could you be a little more discreet, Storm?” he called up, obviously irritated.

Surprising Logan, Jean was laughing beside him, watching as the kids rolled around in the snow, talking excitedly. Wasn’t every day it snowed in July, even when surrounded by mutants.

Ororo had not replied yet, but when she did, Logan laughed.

“Can you take your glasses off in a theatre?” she countered sweetly.

Cyclops stared at her in shock. Wolverine winked down at Jean, whom waggled her eyebrows with a broad grin.

“Storm!” Scott shouted.

Sighing, Ororo held her hand out, collecting a small pile of snow in her hand. Logan smirked, watching as she expertly rolled the snow into a sizeable ball.

“My dear brother,” she intoned in a singsong voice. “Learn to have a little fun.”

Without pause, Ororo aimed at One-Eye, drew her hand back and tossed the snowball directly into his face.

Logan threw his head back and laughed.





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