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Chapter Fifteen: Graying Tower


Kitty left the mansion the day after Jubilee arrived. Ororo had held the girl tightly in her arms as they bid goodbye in the foyer. The young mutant had come to them so unsure, so afraid of who and what she was, was now reentering the world beyond those wrought iron gates, without the comfort of her gifted family.

Scott had her backpack in hand, waiting in the doorway. Storm could not release Kitty for a long time, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Keeping her mutation under control was difficult, but she had vowed to send their Kitten off with a beautiful day, another fond memory of the place that had been her home.

“I’ll be fine, Miss Munroe,” Kitty whispered into their embrace. “Take care of Marie and Jubi for me, please?”

“Of course, my girl,” Ororo replied, equally quiet. “Call if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk about a boy at two in the morning.”

She chuckled. “Always. Goodbye, Miss Munroe. I’ll miss you so much.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Ororo let the young woman go, watching with sad eyes as Rogue and Jubilee instantly grasped her. All three girls sobbed into near hysterics.

A slender hand took hers, and without looking, Storm smiled faintly. Jean squeezed her hand, tugging her back a little until she could throw an arm about her shoulders. Returning the comfortable affection, Ororo wrapped one arm about Jean’s waist, holding her dear friend as close as she could.

It seemed like only yesterday she had bid Jean goodbye to intern at a hospital in Albany. Two long years of weekly phone calls and holiday visits had nearly killed them both, and their friendship was stronger because of it. Then, they had been the only female presence in the mansion, the only two that could share the most intimate of secrets while overindulging on ice cream and soda pop in the wee hours of morning.

Painful as it was to watch the three sweet girls bid their goodbyes, Ororo knew that someday, they would see one another as she and Jean saw each other. Sisters. No, closer than sisters.

Kitty untangled herself from her friends to kiss the Professor’s bald head in thanks, whispering to him for a moment. She had already said all that needed saying to Jean, and as Scott was taking her to the train station with Peter, she would say her goodbyes to her big brother and could-be love there. Henry, horrible with farewells, had given the girl a kiss on the cheek and then bolted for his lab. He was no doubt lamenting about the loss of a student, along with the satiny tones of his favorite jazz album.

Bobby lifted the girl off of her feet, talking quietly into her hair, making her laugh. They had come to the mansion in on the same train four years ago and that made them something akin to a young Ororo and Scott. While leaning on Jean, Ororo looked to her own brother and smiled. His return smirk said he had noticed it too.

Finally, Kitty stood before the silent Wolverine, looking a little anxious for a moment. He gave her that half-smirk he regarded all of the children with and very slowly, Kitty raised her arms, hugging him as tightly as she had everyone else.

“Thank you,” she whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Thank you for being here when the soldiers came. And thanks for taking care of my family.”

Ororo swallowed thickly again, surprised when Logan returned her enthusiastic hug and nodded, speaking softly into her ear.

“Anyone gives you any trouble, you just call Wolverine. I’ll set ‘em straight,” he kissed her hair, much as he would Rogue.

Turning her gaze to Rogue, she smiled, noting that she and Jubilee were wrapped together, much as she was to Jean. Jean gave her another little squeeze, which she returned. It was rare for them to display their close relationship so openly, but times as these brought it out in them both.

Kitty left Logan to join Scott, smiling tearfully at them all. “I’ll be back for Thanksgiving. I promise.”

They all nodded, some of them waving as Scott ushered her out of the door, mouthing an “I love you” to his fiancée. When the door closed, Rogue and Jubilee rushed to the living room, hoping to catch a glimpse of the car as it pulled away, holding hands as though they were anchoring one another to the earth.

“I never gets any easier to watch them leave, my X-men,” Charles said quietly, rolling his wheelchair away.

Jean urged Ororo toward the kitchen, keeping her arms around her. Ororo fell into the sisterly embrace laying her head on the taller woman’s shoulder.

“I love you, dear,” Jean said with a smile. “I’ll love you til the sky falls down and the clouds dance in the street…”

“I love you, dear,” Ororo continued their verse. “I’ll love you til the oceans wash over the earth and the waters lap at our feet.”

Storm leaned up, kissing the cheek of the only woman she could consider her sister as they entered the kitchen. Jean sighed softly, looking about with a hint of sorrow in her eyes.

“I’ll miss her. She’s been here so long, through most of the summers as well…it seems so strange that I won’t see her walk through the kitchen wall every morning.”

“I know,” Storm agreed, finally releasing her hold on Jean. “I am happy the others are staying on. I could not imagine how difficult another year would be where they all went on with their lives. Perhaps it comes with age, this feeling of an “empty nest”.”

Logan entered the kitchen, his cigar pinched between his lips as he rolled his eyes heavenward. He took a few steps to the window, peering out through the curtains Jean insisted on putting everywhere, no matter how often Ororo tried to argue that they were pointless.

“It’s not rainin’,” Logan stated, looking at the women over his shoulder. “Means at least ‘Ro’s got a handle on herself.”

Sneaking a look at his backside as he leaned over the booth, Ororo smirked to herself, wiping it away when Jean raised an eyebrow.

“I am quite in control, thank you,” she said primly. “That does not mean I will not miss our young friend.”

“Hell, I’ll miss ‘er. If only ‘cause she kept Rogue happy.”

“Aww. You’re really just a big teddy bear, aren’t you?” Jean teased, opening the fridge.

Storm nearly snorted with amusement, shaking her head at Logan. He straightened in his place, looking over at Jean as she rummaged through the refrigerator. Logan crooked a finger at Ororo, a sly smirk on his seductive mouth.

Taking careful steps, Ororo came around the island at his silent beckoning, a smile spreading even further across her lips. He reached for her the moment she was within range, drawing her to his chest with a single hand wrapped around her neck.

Humming quietly, she allowed him to kiss her quickly. Her own hands wound into his hair, wanting to deepen their kiss, but mindful that they were not alone. He inhaled deeply, his fingers dancing over the sensitive flesh of her neck, a familiar hum resonating through her body at his slightest touch.

“Can I come out now? My back is starting to hurt,” Jean grumbled, forcing Ororo and Logan apart.

Clearing her throat, Storm traced his whiskered chin with a fingertip for a moment before stepping away from him, taking the lettuce Jean handed her so that she could cut it up for dinner. It was still early, but Jean ran a tight ship.

Logan flopped into a chair across from them, watching as they worked together. Things had shifted, albeit just so, in her life since the night Logan had made her…snow. She smiled to herself at the thought, wondering what the emotion she felt was saying during that utterly passionate evening had invoked snowfall.

Something so stirring had consumed her with Logan’s touch. Perhaps it was seeing his feral side, knowing, on some level, it was because the Brotherhood had hurt her. Logan was possessive with anything that mattered to him and he was not, in any way, going to allow harm to come to the few people he could count on. She assumed he knew that he could trust her, that she would take any harm coming to him with equal fury.

They had said, that first night in her bedroom that they were not in love. Neither of them had discounted the possibility of falling, but at the time, it was not love. Now, however, Ororo could feel the swirl of him within her, knowing he touched a part of her soul that no one had ever been able to reach. With Logan, falling was terrifying and safe all in the same moment. She knew, without a doubt, that if he found something he wanted to hold on to, he would walk through Armageddon to keep it.

Had she become something worth fighting for? Hope was a dangerous thing, but she felt a tug in her heart every time Logan gave her that secretive smile, with every touch of his hands and lips. She bit her lip, concentrating on tearing the lettuce leaves for the Caesar dressing Jean was preparing, trying to work with Logan’s dark gaze following her every move.

As though waking with him was not enough to improve her mood for the entire day, she was beginning to notice that his scent had seeped into her bedroom and even most of her clothing. That deliciously male smell of cigars, leather, and sweat. She could sense it, even now, on her shirt and it gave her body a tingle.

Looking up as she moved to the sink, she noted Logan’s eyebrow was almost to his hairline; his nose lifted just slightly, nostrils twitching. Blushing a little beneath her dark skin, she winked, knowing he could smell her sudden change from his seat, hear the soft pounding of her heart as she remembered the way he held her, their bodies joined, hot kisses swallowing cries of pleasure.

His other eyebrow went up and she forced herself to turn from him, taking a deep breath as the wind picked up outside. She busied her trembling hands by washing the lettuce, noting Jean was looking between them, a smirk on her lips. Obviously they were…

“Ok, I can’t take this anymore. Logan, come here,” Jean said, setting the whisk she was using on the counter and motioning him closer.

“What?” he snapped out of his daze.

“I can’t sit here, in the same room with you two projecting like this. My mental link to Storm makes it horribly loud.”

Ororo dropped the bowl of lettuce into the sink. She had not even thought about the resident telepaths in the house. Of course they could empathically feel the emotion between Logan and herself, especially through the link with Storm’s mind.

Closing her eyes, she concentrated as the Professor has instructed, slamming the doors of her mental walls that led to her mentor and friend. She could almost hear him chuckling in her mind as she did so, wondering how long it would have taken them to bring it up.

“’Ro?” Logan asked gruffly.

Opening her eyes, she turned to him, nodding to Jean. “I am terribly sorry about that,” she apologized. “I was not thinking.”

Logan had a suspicious look on his face, making her step toward him, touching his hand gently. “Jean and the Professor can… “feel” whatever we feel, Logan, though on a much smaller scale. It is more like an…impression of feeling. Since Jean’s return, I have left my mental link to her open, allowing more emotion through it.”

“You’re naturally a loud “projector”, Logan. You feel things very close to the surface and for the most part, I can block it out,” Jean chimed in, smiling kindly. “But lately, when you two are in the same room, it’s overwhelming.”

Noting the scowl threatening to come over his features, Ororo cut in once more.

“Allow Jean to establish shields in your mind and she will not be able to feel anything more than a whisper any longer,” she offered, pleading with her eyes. “Nor will the Professor.”

“I’d rather have him do it, no offense, Jeanie,” Logan slid from the stool. “But I don’t want you pokin’ round my head just now.”

“Logan…” Ororo started after him, but he held a hand up, his back to her as he stomped from the room.

Sighing, she turned to Jean, whom was biting her lip, looking more than a little worried.

“Do not fret, my dear one,” Ororo soothed her, her words more confident than she felt. “He was merely surprised. I will speak with him later.”

“I didn’t mean…”

Storm kissed her cheek, turning back to the lettuce, a sinking feeling in her stomach. Things had just shifted again and she was unsure what the outcome would be. Logan was a private man, the idea that someone could read him was no doubt disturbing. For a moment, Ororo almost asked Jean what she sensed from him, but decided against it.

She had tried to say it to him, what she felt in her heart when they were together, but the words would not leave her lips. He had understood, and said she knew where he stood as well. In honesty, she thought she did, but there was a small nudge of fear whenever she allowed herself to think it.

Pushing those thoughts away, Ororo went back to the lettuce. She would work things out with Logan later.

~@~

The children came in from their run around the grounds, tired, aching, and ravenous. Ororo and Jean sent them off to the showers before feeding them, laughing at their antics as Scott returned with Peter. The younger man looked incredibly sad and excused himself to his bedroom early on.

Logan had come in from the run and not said a word to Storm. Hurt by his seeming indifference more than an angry shouting match would have, she turned away, not bothering to enjoy the view of his sweat-soaked t-shirt clinging to his muscular chest.

When he went upstairs, Ororo had to force herself to pay attention to the children, whom were all very excited about Logan’s new training. Even Jubilee had a grin on her face as she iced down her knees.

Once her duty was done in the kitchen, she headed toward her classroom. School was to start in a few weeks and she had an alarming amount of work to get done before then. Jeffery, her rescuer from the incident in Chicago, would join three more new students. There was little time to spend chasing after Wolverine.

As though he heard her think his name, a low whistle came from the garage doorway, making her pull up short. Logan stood in the open doorway, a leather jacket over a white t-shirt and his trademark jeans. In his hands, she noted her own coat and a helmet.

“Ride with me?” he questioned quietly.

Without even a backward glance to her classroom, she accepted the invitation. Moving across the hall to him, she took the jacket and helmet, following him into the dimly lit garage. He walked to Scott’s motorcycle instantly, straddling the padded seat and kicking the engine until it roared to life.

Ororo shrugged into her thick coat, more for the protection from flying insects and injury in case they crashed than anything, she pulled the helmet onto her head and fastened the strap. Swallowing hard, she swung her legs onto the bike, settling behind Logan and wrapping her arms about his waist. Once she was secure, he opened the garage doors with the little electronic button attached to the handlebars.

The instant they had sufficient room, Logan gave the cycle enough gas that the front wheel popped up from the ground. Her eyes wide, she tried not to cling to him as the tire met earth again and they shot out of the garage at a breakneck speed. Trust. She trusted him. He would never do anything that would harm her.

It took her a moment to hook the heel of her boots onto the small metal bars so she could rest her legs, enjoying the vibration of the bike and the warmth of Logan’s back against her chest. They did not speak as he left the mansion’s grounds, heading west. She was curious as to his reasons for taking them away from the mansion, but knew he would tell her when he was ready.

She relaxed against him, content with the silence, trusting him to take her wherever they needed to go.

~@~

Logan slowed the motorbike down nearly an hour later, turning it from the highway onto a dirt road. Ororo had a grin on her face, though he could not see it. She enjoyed speed, and had as long as she could remember. Riding the bike was nearly as thrilling as riding the winds, Logan’s presence only heightened that.

He pulled to a stop, placing his legs on either side of the bike. She was careful not to move, allowing him to settle the bike’s balance as they halted. He flipped the kickstand down with a foot, cutting the engine before turning to nod at her.

Carefully, Storm swung her legs from the bike, standing beside it a moment to steady herself. Knees sore, she swayed a little, kept upright when Logan reached for her, waiting until she nodded before letting go and sliding from the seat as well. Storm unclasped the helmet and removed it, shaking her hair in the light breeze. Placing the black protective device on the seat, she turned to look around, slipping the coat from her shoulders and folding it over the seat as well.

They were on the edge of a cliff, surrounded by large boulders. The view was breathtaking and she moved closer, her feet making soft crunching noises as she walked through the underbrush. She could see a small town below them, the houses and buildings looking little more than playthings from the height.

“This is beautiful, Logan,” she whispered, her feet finally meeting the edge.

He merely grunted in response, not moving from the bike. Wanting to clench her fists and scream in irritation, she lowered herself to the ground, dangling her legs over the edge of the cliff, settling her hands behind her so she could prop up on them, enjoying the view.

“Why did you bring me here if you are merely going to grunt at me? I cannot help it that Jean and the Professor are telepaths and that what I feel for you is so very powerful they can sense it,” she said, ire rising in her even as she tried to focus on the beauty of this place.

For several minutes there was no sound other than the sweet wind meandering through the mountain pass. She did her best to remain aloof, and succeeded in keeping the skies clear, but she was painfully aware of his hard stare on her back.

She heard his jacket rustle and assumed he had removed it. Moments later, his boots crunched a path to her and finally she looked over to see him crouched beside her, eyes on the town hundreds of meters below them.

“I came here months ago, when I was on my way back from Alkali Lake,” he began gruffly. “I’d promised the kid I’d be back, but I stopped here to think it over. If I went back, I’d be formin’ a tie to the place, to everyone in it.”

Ororo watched him silently, tucking her hair behind her ear as the wind continued on.

“I thought bout everythin’ Chuck had told me, the fight with Magneto and your damn speech about choosin’ sides,” he paused, and she smirked to herself. She adored that memory of him, the surprise on his face when she refused to back down.

“It occurred to me that I didn’t have anythin’ to believe in,” he turned to her slowly, dark eyes meeting hers. “An’ when I thought about what he was doin’ with his school, I realized it was somethin’ to believe in. Maybe the only good thing I’d had in fifteen years.”

A lump formed in her throat for the hundredth time, hearing the faith he had placed in the school. It echoed in his words, which seemed to come from the buried part of him she had only seen glimpses of.

“Until you.”

Her heart leaped into her throat, her eyes going wider than she could imagine them being.

“I believe in Rogue, but she’s somethin’ I have to take care of. Like a sister or somethin’, an extension of me. The school, the idea that we could teach these kids somethin’, that they deserved everythin’ I didn’t have, that led me to you.”

His voice was a whisper on the wind, but she heard every word, locking them all away in her memory.

“You’re different,” Logan said at last. “I believe in you, I trust you, even though I don’t know why sometimes. Everything good is inside you and I want that. You walk into a room and it’s instantly all right, no matter what’s happenin’. You became the light on the dark side of me.”

“Logan…” she tried to speak, but was cut off when he cupped her cheek with one hand.

“We said it wasn’t love, but if this isn’t it, I don’t know what is.”

It took her a moment to process his words around the hum of emotion inside her and the frantic pace of her heart. She covered his hand with one of her own, taking his cheek in the other as she shifted to sit up without the aid of her arms.

“I believe in you, Logan,” Ororo whispered, knowing he could hear her. “I have since the moment I met you in the Professor’s office.”

He blinked a little, as though allowing her words to settle. She scooted a little closer, dropping her hand from his to place it over his heart, smiling when his hand followed her, resting over hers.

“And I believe in us.”

Not able to speak further, she covered his lips with hers, pulling him as close as she could until he was on his knees in front of her. Everything she could feel between them was poured into the simple gesture of intimacy, hoping he could feel it. Hoping he could tell that she loved him.

When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers. “I didn’t want Jean tellin’ you all that before I could.”

She smiled a little. “So that explains your mood.”

He grunted in agreement. “I had Chuck put those shields she was talkin’ bout up. He didn’t even ask. I walked into his office an’ he told me to sit down. Five minutes later, he said he couldn’t feel anythin’ an’ that was that.”

“I should have warned you. I have lived with them so long…”

“Shh. Its ok. I was just surprised. I definitely didn’t want Jean in my head.”

Pulling back a little as jealousy crept into her, she fixed him with a hard stare.

“Why not?”

As if sensing her mood shift, Logan pulled her right back to him, speaking against her lips.

“I don’t want anyone knowin’ peekin’ at what we do behind closed doors, ‘Ro. It’s not her business an’ I don’t need her all jealous of ya.”

Unable to remain angry with him, no matter how hard she tried, Ororo chuckled against his mouth. “Have you finally flushed my red-haired sister from your system?”

“Ororo,” he said seriously. “She was gone before I kissed you the first time.”

She grinned again, wrapping her arms about his neck and roughly pulling him down, lying on her back.

“I remember that night,” she nipped at his lips, the wind kicking up around them as her body instantly began to respond to him.

Ororo felt him grin, though whether it was a response to her words or her growing arousal, she could not tell. His hands slid down her sides, stopping at her hips. She moved her legs apart, allowing him to settle between them. The movements were flawless, as though they knew instinctively what the other was going to do.

“I do too,” his voice was a low growl that sent gooseflesh rippling down her body. “Wanted to pull you into my lap right there in the theatre.”

She kissed him roughly, that mental image not doing a thing to cool her heated flesh. He tasted as good as always, cigars and beer mixed with the salty-sweet that was all his own. Sweeping her tongue into his mouth, she arched her hips into his, deciding here was an excellent place to be alone, after all.

Eager hands slid beneath her shirt, his calloused fingertips caressing her bare skin, making her moan into his mouth. Logan responded in kind as she copied his touches, wrenching the hem of his shirt from his jeans and pressing her hands to his flesh.

A nudge of apprehension pushed into her mind, making her pull back to blink it away. Logan’s mouth latched onto her throat, the warring sensation of wanting to rip his clothing off and a clinging fear making her head swim.

As if sensing her sudden change, Logan pulled away from her, staring at her in surprise.

“What?”

“I…I do not know,” she admitted, her breathing suddenly erratic.

Snikt!

Logan unsheathed his claws, only inches from Ororo’s face. Suddenly overcome with terror, she stayed below him, gathering her elements around them, cloaking them with fog the moment her eyes stung.

Wolverine moved into a crouch, allowing Storm to stand. She swirled the fog around them, hoping to keep them hidden from whatever was approaching them.

“Wolverine?”

“I can smell ‘em, an’ they ain’t friendly,” he muttered in response.

Suddenly, as though she had been stripped of her mental shields, Ororo heard the Professor’s voice in her head, shouting a warning.

Behind you!

Storm turned, swinging. The connection of her fist to an approaching attacker’s jaw cracked loudly in the silence, joined by Wolverine’s cry of rage. She heard him snarling, the metallic clink his skeletal structure made against the flesh of their opponents echoing through the small clearing.

Noting her fog was now a hindrance as opposed to help, she dissipated it quickly, eyes going wide when she came face to face with a familiar young man.

“Hey there, mutie. Gonna try that shit again?”

“By the Goddess,” she breathed, dropping into a crouch and swinging her leg around, knocking the boy to the ground.

“Hand!”

At Logan’s call, she turned, grabbing his hand and allowing him to flip her over his shoulder. Straightening a leg, she pounded the forehead of a young woman, knocking her flat on her back.

Storm landed on her feet, ducking low to avoid a body Wolverine negligently tossed off the cliff. She turned quickly, taking an electric current into her palm and slamming it into the chest of a man bearing down on Logan.

“They are human!” she cried over the din of battle. “Do not kill them!”

“They playin’ by your rules, darlin’?” Wolverine replied angrily, dodging a long Bowie knife one of the younger attackers had.

Storm, Wolverine, get back to the mansion. There are at least a dozen more in the woods.

“Nothin’ I can’t handle,” her lover said aloud, taking the boy Storm pushed toward him as she landed a roundhouse to the gut of an older man.

“We have our orders, Wolverine!” she called back, grasping a blond woman’s arm and twisting it until she fell to her knees.

With a thrust of her hand, Ororo broke the woman’s wrist, ignoring her yowls of pain and kicking her away in time to block a meaty fist aimed for her head.

She lost sight of Wolverine, but his growls and spitting snarls told her he was still fighting. The man before Storm twisted her, pulling her to his chest and wrapping an impossibly thick arm around her throat.

Unable to call for help and not willing to use her powers, she crunched the thick heel of her boot to the man’s instep, a sharp elbow to his solar plexus, and finally brought her foot up quickly between his legs.

He released her instantly, dropping to the floor, holding his family jewels with one hand. Breaking into a run, Ororo bolted for the motorbike, hopping onto the seat and flipping up the kickstand. Thanking Scott for making her take lessons, she started the ignition, not daring to turn around.

Angry shouts filtered through the noise of battle and the roar of the engine. She sighed with relief when Wolverine’s stocky form slid into place behind her.

“GO!”

He pushed her helmet onto her head, even as she squeezed her thighs against the sides of the bike and shot out of the clearing at an entirely unsafe velocity. She felt Logan’s familiar hands circle her waist as she skidded onto the highway, flattening herself against the bike as they raced faster from their secluded spot.

Logan shouted directions into her ear, obviously comfortable with her driving and they sped toward home. Storm’s mind reeled and her lover did not help with his final shout.

“That big one was the bastard that shot you!”





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