Chapter Twenty: Protector
He smelled her presence before she knocked. Changing into clean jeans after an acrobatic session with Hank in the training room, following the clean up of Ororo’s mess, he had more clarity than his conversation with the woman he felt slipping away could have.
Some of the things she’d said made sense. How could they be on the same team if they couldn’t work right together? Then again, he argued with himself that the day in the clearing, he had given her free rein, trusting her abilities. He had worried, of course, but that was the extent.
And she was jealous of Jean. Maybe jealous wasn’t the right word. Ororo simply did not enjoy the game he had been playing with Jean for so long. She was right on that one. Games with Jean had to end as long as he was with Ororo. And from the way he felt as though something was missing without her, he figured that would be a long time.
Why had he felt proud to have Jean staring at him? Why had the subtle scent of arousal from her puffed up his ego? Why in the hell did he not realize Ororo would notice?
“Logan?”
“Yeah.”
The bedroom door opened, the scent of peppermint flowing through his room before she entered. Of all the people he wanted to talk to, Jean was not on the list right now. He turned, buttoning his jeans, trying to not think how that looked to her.
“I was just wondering how your talk with Storm went?” she asked quietly, not coming fully into the room.
“Depends,” he grunted, reaching for his boots and sitting on the edge of his bed.
“On what?”
“Your outlook, I guess,” he tugged a sock on, pausing. Socks reminded him of her.
Everything reminded him of her at this point.
“I didn’t notice any thunderclaps and you don’t look electrocuted. So, would “fine” describe it?” Jean teased, moving a little further into the room.
“Not really,” Logan admitted, wanting to scream that there were other ways to tell Ororo’s mood.
Like the shift in her back muscles, the way her entire body went ice-cold when she was upset. The slight dimple that appeared at the corner of her mouth when she was amused or the wrinkle to her brow that betrayed worry. Did no one else notice this?
“She busted the punchin’ bag.”
Jean gasped. “What?”
Logan nodded. “Yep. Snapped the chain right in half and didn’t look even a little upset about it.”
“I’ve been trying to talk to her for a while now, but she’s ignoring me.”
“Probably because you’re a part of the problem,” he told her, wincing slightly. He was willing to bet his healing factor that Ororo hadn’t wanted her friend to know that.
Jean was quiet for a moment as Logan pulled his boots on over his socks, tying them up while trying to not smell the change in Jean’s scent. It wasn’t arousal, much to his relief, but it was definitely fear.
“Why am I the problem? You almost stabbed her,” Jean retaliated lamely.
Logan looked up, quirking a brow at her. She blushed nearly the color of her hair.
“I’m sorry, that…knee jerk reaction.”
“Right.”
He stood up from the bed, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it on.
“She thinks I flirt with you,” the woman admitted softly.
Logan didn’t respond right away, concentrating on zipping his coat up.
“Don’t you?”
“Logan!”
“Look, Jean,” he moved to his desk, taking out the cigar Ororo had given him weeks ago and the small piece of leather he had cut from her uniform that day in Chicago, stuffing the items into his pocket. “What do you want from me?”
She was staring at him in surprise. Her mouth opened and closed more than once until her eyes got that faraway look to them, hinting she was trying to use her telepathy.
“Stay out!” he barked more harshly than he’d intended.
Jean startled, taking a step back.
It was then that Logan understood another bit of what Ororo was trying to tell him. Storm never, ever would have shown her fear that way. Hell, he had three adamantium claws shoved into her bed and she had barely registered it that night. Jean was the polar opposite of Ororo.
Jean was the type that needed a protector. Ororo needed a companion.
A mate.
“Jean, I know that I chased you. I flirted, I kissed you, I thought of horrible ways for One-Eye to bite the big one so I could swoop in…but that was then,” he said quickly, remembering to grab the address he’d written on a scrap of newspaper and holding it tightly.
“What’s changed?”
He looked up, meeting the green eyes he’d thought about so often, finding a hint of confusion, fear, and desire in them. It almost disgusted him.
“The way I figure it, you’re just not the one for me,” he replied, checking his pockets for his wallet.
“Is Storm?” Jean’s question was whisper-soft, even for his sensitive ears.
Pausing, Logan nodded slowly. “Yeah. I think she is.”
“I’m sorry, Jean. I’ve got something to take care of. I’ll be back before dinner.”
“Where are you going?”
“Logan? We’re gonna be late!” Scott called from the stairs.
“I’m comin’!” Logan replied, moving past Jean.
“You’re going somewhere with Scott?” she sounded beyond flabbergasted as she followed him.
“Logan!”
“Shut the f--,” Logan paused, mindful of the children who could hear him shouting. “Hang on!”
Logan turned to Jean. “There are three people in this house whose business it is where I go and why. You’re not on that list, Jean.”
She gaped at him as though he’d just grown another head. Sighing, Logan turned away from her, trotting down the stairs. He and One-Eye only had a small window of opportunity here and every second spent trying to get Jean out of his hair was a wasted one.
“Is everything all right?”
Ororo ran into them halfway down the staircase. Not bothering to look guilty, as he hadn’t done anything wrong; he leaned in and kissed her cheek quickly. Jean had halted right behind him and from the dimple on Ororo’s chin she was more than a little amused.
“Logan!” Scott yelled again.
He ignored the call, watching as Ororo stepped up to Jean and enveloped her in a warm hug. Just before they parted Logan heard a distinct whisper from his lover’s lips.
“I love you, dear.”
Logan almost laughed at the shocked expression on Jean’s face as she stuttered a reply. He knew that Storm was taking the first step, trying to put jealousy and whatever else it was between her and Jean aside.
“You are being bellowed for, Logan,” Ororo said to him. “Where are you going?”
“Can I choose to not answer that and not get struck by lightning?” he gave her a half-smirk.
She narrowed her eyes at him, though the gesture looked slightly playful. She wasn’t putting on a show for Jean. She was above that. It seemed more that she wanted to move on, though he owed her an answer.
“LOGAN!”
“Summers, if you don’t give me five frickin’ seconds, I will slice those red eyeballs right out of your head!”
A pause. Ororo snickered. Jean chuckled.
“I’ll be in the car!”
“Go on,” Ororo told him. “And keep your secrets if you must.”
“I’ll be back for dinner,” Logan bolted. He did not want to be around those two women, in the same room, until they worked out their issues.
He hoped that was before he came back from his field trip with Cyclops.
~@~
“You’re just in time, I was getting ready to head on home. Come on in, gate’s open,” the polite, balding man waved to Logan and Scott as they hopped out of the Mazda.
The junkyard was filled with things Logan wanted to take home, rip apart and rebuild. He didn’t know where the odd compulsion came from, but he was used to these kinds of things by now.
Scott came up beside Logan as they moved through the wire-fence gate, looking around through those red lenses as though he’d never seen a car graveyard before. They stepped over an old-looking Mastiff, whom barely lifted his head from the license plate it was gnawing on as Logan absently petted him.
“So, remind me why we’re doing this again? You know she hates them, right?” Scott asked as they rounded a pile of bumpers.
“Just trust me on this one, Slim.”
“You’re a weird guy, Wolverine,” he chuckled, pulling his coat more tightly around his shoulders. “Ah, well, your funeral.”
Kicking up dust with their boots, they finally reached the office, shaking hands with the owner, whom grinned at Scott.
“Nice shades,” he commented. “Mutant?”
Instantly on guard, Logan looked to Scott, whom simply nodded. “Yeah.”
“Interesting. What’s your gift? Is that what you call it?”
“Um, yeah, I’d show you but it’s a little destructive,” Scott smiled, giving Logan a small hand signal that meant everything was all right.
Logan couldn’t smell anything but the man’s horrible aftershave and no hint of deceit or fear so he shrugged off his paranoia quickly, reminding himself that this was for Ororo.
“Come on back here, then, I’ve only got one left and I’ve had four people call about him today,” the man shuffled into the office, holding the door open for Logan and Scott.
He pointed to a large box in the back of his office. “Right there, go on and say hi. Sometimes a dog and their owner just doesn’t get along, so it’s best to try it out first.”
Logan took a few steps across the room, smiling down at the exhausted looking Mastiff lying beside the box.
“Hey, girl. How you doin’?” he scratched behind her ears, making the dog whine for more. “That’s the spot, huh? There’s a good girl.”
“Look at that, he’s being nice to something furry,” Scott cracked. “Hey, if we scratch you behind the ears, will you roll over and kick your leg?”
The old man laughed uproariously at this, clapping Scott soundly on the back. Logan almost shot back a retort…until he realized that one of his hot spots Ororo had detected and used to her advantage actually was behind his ear.
“Shut up, One-Eye,” he snarled, turning back to the bitch.
“Her name’s May, and this was her second litter. The pup in there is the runt and he’s sweet as can be, been weaned almost a week now,” the dog’s owner said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.
Peeking into the box, Logan continued to scratch May’s ears. The puppy was wide awake, his long pink tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth as he leaped up onto the side of the box, studying Logan intently.
Looking right back into the puppy’s dark eyes, Logan could almost feel this canine reaching inside him, locating his own animal within and calling to it. The puppy seemed to smirk and then attempted to leap out of the box and into Logan’s arms.
His fur was only a shade or two lighter than Ororo’s skin and while small, Logan could sense an intelligence and honor in the creature wrapped in a kind of chaotic peace he understood very well. He knew, without a doubt, that this was the dog for Storm.
“Yeah,” he murmured, reaching in to pet the puppy hardily. “You’re just right, aren’t ya? If I bring you home, will you look out for my girl?”
The puppy’s exuberance calmed until he was looking directly into Logan’s eyes. A low snarl came from the puppy and Logan rose up on his haunches just a little, boring his eyes into the dog’s.
“That’s right, bub, I’m the boss. She’s my girl. Gonna take care of her?” he growled quietly.
As if understanding, the puppy averted his eyes and sat back on his haunches.
Logan reached back into the box and lifted him, rewarded by the dog’s tongue lapping at his chin eagerly. Smiling, Logan stood and nodded.
“Ok, Cykie, pay the man.”
The look on One-Eye’s face was priceless.
~@~
“You realize, she is going to kill you and if she doesn’t Jean will,” Scott said as they drove home from the pet supply store two hours later.
Ororo’s new puppy was on Logan’s lap and three hundred dollars worth of food, toys, a dog bed and other shit he hadn’t known existed crammed into the backseat.
“Why Jean?” Logan asked, scratching the puppy’s belly.
“She’s allergic to dog hair,” he said, navigating them through Westchester.
Logan laughed. “Well, she’ll live. I’m sure Hank’s got medication for that kind of thing,” he said, reaching into his pocket for the cigar and leather he had taken from his bedroom.
Letting the puppy sniff both got him acquainted with Ororo’s smell. Logan hoped to make the dog understand that his owner was Ororo, his mother, the Alpha female. He would recognize Logan’s scent on her and in that way would see him as the male.
“It’s for real, isn’t it?” Scott said suddenly.
“What is?” Logan asked, watching the puppy sniff happily at the leather.
“The end of your…thing with Jean.”
Surprised by this sudden turn of conversation, Logan looked out of the windshield as dusk sank in around them. Yes, it was true. He did not even want to tease Jean to get under One-Eye’s skin. It would hurt Ororo too much.
“Yeah. It’s done.”
“Good.”
Logan grunted.
“This really, really hurts to say, Logan, just so you know that,” Scott said, shifting his hands on the steering wheel as they turned down the street to the mansion. “But I’m glad you’ve got Storm.”
If he thought nothing else could shock him, he was wrong. Not turning to look at him, Logan remained silent, waiting for the warning that would come from the other man about dating someone as close to him as a sister.
“She’s my sister in every way that counts, and if she chooses you, then I’m happy.”
“Because it means I’m staying away from your girl?” he quipped as Scott pulled up to the security gate.
“Well there is that,” he said, punching his code into the panel. “I’ve just never seen her so tied to someone before. I know Ororo, she needs that.”
“I’m startin’ to think we all do, Slim,” Logan admitted.
“This conversation never happened.”
“Got that fuckin’ right.”
They left all of the dog’s things in the car, proceeding to the side door of the garage the second Scott cut the engine. Logan carried the puppy to the door, opening it just wide enough to hear what was happening.
“Everyone seems to be in the Rec Room or upstairs,” he reported to Scott. “Wait. The Professor is in the kitchen with Jean and Rogue…Hank too. Where’s ‘Ro, damnit?”
“I hope they saved some dinner,” Scott said quietly from behind him.
“Bud, you’ll be on the couch and I’ll be in my own room.”
“I never should have let you talk me into this…”
“Nope, sure shouldn’t have.”
Pushing the door open just a bit more, Logan whispered to the puppy. “Go find my girl. Go get her. Get her!”
The puppy growled in response, ready for action.
He held the bit of leather up to his nose, allowing him to take the scent before Logan placed him inside the mansion and released him.
The pup sniffed loudly for a moment, running off in all different directions. At first, Logan thought the dog would head right back to him, but he stopped suddenly and took off toward the stairs at a dead run, toenails clinking and sliding on the hard wood floor.
“You’re on your own, Old Man,” Scott said as he entered the house, seeming to laugh at him.
“Yeah, keep laughing until Jean’s got you in the hall with a pillow…damn!”
Leaving Scott, Logan followed the scent of the suddenly vanished canine up the stairs. He could hear several curious children gathering behind him, but he shooed them away with a single look. They scampered off, but he was sure they’d be back later, poking their little faces into things they shouldn’t.
The sound of the Mastiff puppy’s frustrated snarl reached him from the teacher’s hall just as he hit the top of the stairs. Noises that sounded like claws scraping wood and the puppy’s howl were followed by rapid footsteps and a whiff of fresh rainfall.
Peeking around the corner, Logan smiled as Ororo’s bedroom door opened.
“What on earth? How did you get here, precious?” her voice had dropped to a soothing coo and he watched her lift the large puppy into her arms, checking his neck for a collar.
A collar? He shook his head. She had moments where she was absolutely brilliant and in others she reminded him of a naïve girl from a tiny village in Kenya. He supposed she was actually a mixture of both.
“Oh, dear, you are quite friendly, are you not?” Ororo laughed as the puppy licked her face, yelping in triumph.
He had to admit to himself that he was impressed. The Mastiff had been dropped into an alien environment and given an order to locate a single scent within thousands of new smells he most likely wanted to inspect closely and yet he had still found what he was looking for. Logan’s fear that the blood staining the leather would confuse him had obviously been for nothing.
“Shall we locate your owner? The students are not allowed to bring pets to the school,” she was saying, coming out of her bedroom. The puppy whined pitifully. “I know, but it is for the best. We do not have the proper facilities to handle one hundred dogs or cats.”
Deciding it was time to show himself, Logan smiled the smile only ‘Ro ever got to see, coming around the corner as if he’d not been watching all along.
“Hey,” he greeted calmly. “Whatcha got there?”
She looked up and smiled, rubbing behind the puppy’s ear. He almost smirked at that. Apparently, Ororo just knew the secret about ears.
“Hello,” she replied, already suspicious. “Would you know anything about this?”
Logan pointed to the puppy and shrugged putting an exaggerated expression of innocence on his face, taking the few meters to her slowly.
“Now, why would you think that, darlin’?”
Ororo raised a white brow, turning the puppy until he faced her.
“We know all about the Wolverine’s games, do we not? Yes. We know he is up to something,” she said as though the puppy could reply.
As if on cue, the dog turned to Logan and his tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth, as though he were laughing.
“Maybe I know somethin’,” Logan finally admitted when he was standing directly in front of her.
“Logan,” she said seriously. “What is this dog doing here?”
“Happy birthday,” he replied, kissing her forehead.
The look of surprise and then overwhelming tenderness that crossed Ororo’s face was worth every single bitching comment Scott had made through the entire process. He kissed her cheek, chuckling when the puppy licked him and then started on her all over again.
“How did you know my birthday is tomorrow?” she asked, clamping a hand around the dog’s muzzle.
The puppy whined pitifully.
“’Ro, he can’t breathe like that,” Logan cautioned, ignoring her question.
“Yes, I know,” she released the puppy and rapped him sharply on the snout. “Behave yourself.”
Puppy settled easily into her arms, looking to Logan as though he wanted to bite something.
“Hey, no bitin’ her. Bite her and I’ll turn ya into Mastiff Steak.”
“Logan?”
“Yeah?”
She gave him a long suffering sigh and a look that clearly stated if he did not start explaining things, he would end up finding out exactly how well he conducted electricity.
“Cyclops told me,” he replied quickly. “I mentioned wanting to get you a dog, and he…”
He shut his mouth.
Ororo smirked.
“You were lucky, is that it?” she chuckled, heading into her bedroom.
He followed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat. She seemed to be taking all of this very well, considering Scott was adamant that she hated any kind of furry creatures.
When Logan mentioned this, Ororo shook her head, laughing.
“That is because he had a horrid little terrier when we were teenagers that never quite learned how to relieve himself outside. I detested that animal,” she explained, walking into her bathroom.
Sensing he was not in immediate danger, Logan shrugged out of his coat and placed it on the bed. Ororo returned from the bathroom a moment later, cupping her hand as her eyes turned white.
A tiny storm cloud hovered above her palm as she flattened a towel on the carpeting and placed the puppy down.
“Now, sit,” she commanded.
Pup put his hindquarters directly on the floor; Logan had to hold back a laugh. This dog knew who was boss. Ororo allowed her tiny storm to release its rain, cupping her hands beneath it for the puppy to drink from.
“So, I take it ya like him, then?” Logan asked, trying not to feel a little sentimental as she cared for the puppy.
She looked up, kneeling on the towel as the dog lapped at her hands.
“I would like an explanation as you have admitted he was not intended as a birthday gift.”
Logan nodded, reaching down to unlace his boots.
“Well, I thought bout what you said, bout needin’ a partner and not a protector,” he began, looking over to her.
“I am glad for that,” she said, tilting her head to the side to check something on the puppy’s fur, revealing the smooth expanse of her throat.
Shaking himself back to the topic at hand, he continued, putting his boot carefully under her bed.
“Anyway, the thing is, ‘Ro, I need ya to have a protector. I can’t not want to keep ya from gettin’ hurt,” he sighed, removing his other boot. “So I figured this way you have protection and a partner.”
She was quiet for some time, her eyes fading back to their soft blue as she dissipated the rain cloud, sending the puppy off into the bathroom with a snap of her fingers. Rolling the now wet towel up before taking it into the bathroom, she seemed to be mulling his words over.
He watched her, which had been one of his favorite pastimes for a while now. Her long, silky pants were loose as the bottoms whispered about her socked feet, hanging off her hips and in her trademark white. The tiny tank top she had topped it with was tight, modeling her figure beautifully while keeping mostly everything covered up and had a rather colorful picture of a tornado across the chest. He found himself fascinated by the patch of bare skin, barely two inches wide that allowed her belly button to peek over the edge of her pants.
Jesus, she’s gorgeous, he thought, wondering at his luck.
“A dog here, at the mansion, makes no difference in the field, Logan,” Ororo said at last with a small sigh.
She really did have moments where she reminded him of a naïve kid.
“’Ro, this is a symbol, darlin’,” he explained, standing from the bed and walking over to her. “An animal for an animal, or somethin’.”
Squinting her eyes, she studied him carefully, as though attempting to figure him out. He wanted to laugh, but thought the better of it.
“Logan, the first time you hesitate or disobey an order while we are on a mission, I will request you be placed on the Blue Team,” she said seriously. “Are we clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a mock salute, allowing his itching hands to reach for her.
“And if you ever run away from me again, I will use you as a lightning rod.”
“Understood,” he winced at the mental image, drawing her closer.
Her hands slid up his back, and at that first touch, he knew everything was all right. The sinking feeling that he was unworthy of her, that she was out of his league threatened to consume him. Such a creature of life and beauty…
“Do not doubt yourself, Logan,” she said as if hearing his thoughts. “Or if you must live with this uncertainty, let us do it together.”
Without any hesitation, he brought her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her. Ororo placed her cheek against his shoulder, her own arms clasping behind his back. They stayed that way for a while, the scent of her washing over him as it always did, giving him the comfort of peace he had been long denied. This was a defining moment, every instant he spent in her embrace took the hurt away a little more.
Puppy howled from the bathroom, breaking them apart. Ororo chuckled, looking over her shoulder to the panting dog, whom was wagging his tail in delight.
“Any idea what you’re namin’ that monster?” Logan asked as she called to him, scooping the fur ball up into her arms.
“Tunza,” she said instantly. “I do believe his name shall be Tunza.”
Logan frowned. “What in hell does that mean?”
She winked, allowing the puppy to lick her chin, right at the dimple that told him he was completely out of the doghouse.
“My love, it is the Swahili word for “protection”.”
He grunted. She laughed. And all was right in his world.
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