The Xavier Institute for Gifted and Talented
Salem Canter
Westchester, New York
The mouth-watering scent of succulent steaks grilling wafted across the broad expanse of the back patio, where a majority of the X-Men were lounging and enjoying themselves. It was the annual Fourth of July BBQ and pool party and although it was only three o’clock it was already in full swing.
The patio’s glass doors slid open and Ororo Munroe and Jean Gray padded onto the deck, each woman’s arms rounded with chips, dip, beverages, patties and buns. They set their burdens down on the large patio table beside the grills. “I think that’s everything.” Jean said, kicking off her sandals and planting herself into one of the green and white lounge chairs. She stretched her slender legs, leaning back with her arms over her head. “Don’t let Scott burn those steaks, Logan.”
“I’m on it, Red.” Logan replied from behind the hood of one of the large steel grills, he leaned to the side, flashing one of his trademark feral grins. His hair was slicked back, the result of Jubilee’s and Kitty’s sneak hose attack. The offensive gardening tool now lay severed and defeated on the lawn, but it had been well worth the sacrifice for the two girls to see his startled expression as water jetted onto his face, soaking him and his cigar.
“I’d prefer mine not raw and bloody either,” Jean added to which Logan snorted.
Ororo chuckled softly, pouring herself a glass of iced tea, a smooth purr of a sound that did not go unnoticed by Logan, who let it wash over him. He felt the subtle tingle of arousal at the sound. Damn. That’d been happening a lot lately, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with it. He and ‘Ro had been team mates and flirtatious friends for years, but nothing had ever come of it. He had been so wrapped up in his own shit, he hadn’t really had any time to commit to a relationship. The one time he’d tried, he’d had to end his beloved’s life to ease her suffering, and that put some heavy scars on a person’s heart.
The only person to fly to Japan to be with him during that time had been ‘Ro. Although Gambit had been there the night he’d ended Mariko’s life, the Cajun had left shortly after, uneasy around a very feral Wolverine.
Storm on the other hand had been determined to see him through his grief, not letting him slip away. She had stayed with him for months, her normally somber countenance forced cheerful for his benefit. And though she had reminded him that life went on, that he himself was not dead, she had taken the time to grieve with him and he had been touched by that. Ororo had given Mariko a storm like no other. Flashes of light so bright they were blinding, and winds that howled with the sorrow in his heart. Fat, silver drops of rain poured endlessly, smelling of sadness and renewal. Ororo was a firm believer that when a person left this world, their bodies were welcomed back to mother earth and their spirits lived on in all things that had life.
He had mourned his loss fiercely and had awoken many a night in the throws of terrible dreams, always trapped in the same nightmare moment when his blades sank into Mariko’s chest, ending her life instantly. Ororo would be there instantly, wrapping her slender arms around him, holding him to her as he raged, as he roared and eventually as he cried. She never said a word, just held him, stroking his hair, along his back, cradling him as if he were a child, pressing her face to his hair, her deep, even breathing soothing him.
But as with all things their time in Japan ended and the call of duty as an X-Man pulled them. They had been through much since then, the arrival of new teammates, the death of others. Politics and drama, villains and fights, the normal day to days of being an X-Man.
They returned to Japan from time to time, sometimes with the team, more often just the two of them. One of their best friends lived there, Yukio, and a visit with her was always exciting. Logan enjoyed seeing Ororo and Yukio together because Yukio was able to unlock the fiery spirit beneath ‘Ro’s icy exterior.
It had been during their last visit to Japan when Ororo and his adopted daughter Amiko had bonded that he began to see her differently. Amiko had liked Ororo tremendously, and that had pleased him. Logan knew that his daughter was equally well liked by ‘Ro and was now one of the people fortunate enough to be let into Ororo’s protective circle. It had been Amiko that said to him as they hugged at the airport, “Don’t be an idiot. A woman like her doesn’t come along everyday.”
“Hey, Wolverine, snap out of it, you’re burning the dogs.” Scott said.
Logan grunted, removing the red dogs from the flames, placing them on a paper plate. He looked up at the sky, the same blue as Ororo’s eyes, thinking how hot it was.
“Here.” Ororo was standing beside him, cold beer in hand.
“Thanks, darlin’.” He took the drink gratefully. As he swigged the frosty brew he let his sunglass veiled gaze wander over her lithe form appreciatively. Ororo was built. There was no other way to put it. Strong and lean without an ounce of fat on her except for where it counted. Large firm breasts were cradled by a slinky black top and her killer ass covered in the matching bottom.
“Smells delicious,” she said leaning over the grill, sweeping her long hair aside. “Is there anything I can help with?”
“Naw, darlin’, just stand there and look beautiful.”
Ororo turned her head, a slow blush creeping across her cheeks.
Logan wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. She ran one hand through her hair, sipping her tea through a bendy straw. Goddamn she was gorgeous.
*Ahem.*
Logan grinned, winking at Jeannie over his shoulder.
Jean laughed. She was the only person to know of his attraction to Storm, and she only knew because she had caught him with his guard down one day, watching Ororo in her garden. Although he said it was just attraction, Jean had felt something far deeper lingering in him and she was thrilled. There was no better match for Logan than her best friend and she had told him as much. He in turn told her to butt out.
Suddenly snow and frost blanketed the loungers causing outraged shrieks and yells.
“Bobby Drake Ah’m gonna beat yah senseless!” Rogue was on her feet, gloved fist shaking.
“C’mere, chere. Gambit warm you up.”
Ororo laughed, wiping the rapidly melting snow from her arms. “That man always does that. You would think we’d be better prepared for it.”
“Yeah, sure, you think it’s funny,” Jean said, dancing a bit in her seat as ice slid down her back. “You don’t get cold.” She flung a sloshy hand at Ororo. The soggy mess splashed the grill with a hiss.
“Red, I’m workin’ here.”
“Aww, come on, Logan,” Ororo sidled up beside him, wrapping her chilly arms across his broad shoulders. “It’s all in good fun.”
Logan’s eyes took on a mischievous glint. “Yeah, good fun…” He reached down, swinging her up into his arms and hefting her into the pool before she realized his intent. Ororo entered the deep end of the pool with a splash, and sank to the bottom.
“’Ro?” Logan stepped to the edge, waiting for her to surface. After a few seconds he began to worry. Had she hit her head? He peered into the aquamarine water. Ororo was floating towards the bottom, her eyes closed, her form limp. ‘’Ro?” He glanced back at Jean and Scott. Jean was getting up from her chair, a worried frown on her face.
He turned back towards the water, his worry escalating, and was greeted by glowing white eyes and two arms yanking him into the water. He sank rapidly, his adamantium bones too heavy to float.
“Uh, Storm, you do know Logan and water don’t mix well,” Jean said with a small smile.
Ororo nodded, treading water. “I know.” She was moving towards the wall when she felt a hand close around her ankle, jerking her down. Ororo took a deep laughing breath, going under.
Logan was glaring up at her, his wild mane floating about his head. His feet were planted on the bottom of the pool, his stance almost natural. He motioned that he wanted to go up and Ororo shook her head, swimming towards him. Once there she wrapped her arms around his neck, placing her mouth to his, sharing the breath she had taken. She felt him stiffen in surprise, then his arms closed fiercely around her and they were no longer sharing a breath, but kissing. Ororo could have stayed like that forever, but her lungs began to scream for mercy and she kicked up, pulling Logan with her, creating a small whirlpool to carry them to the surface.
Several others were at the edge of the pool, waiting for them to emerge. A collective sigh went up and Ororo laughed. “Oh, for pity’s sake, the man could have walked to the shallow end.”
Jubilee groaned, realizing none of them had even thought of that. “I was just worried that Wolvie was gonna sit on the bottom and sulk that ya suckered him in there.”
Logan shot her a look. “Can it, kid.”
Jubilee smirked. “Be nice or Storm’ll whoop ya back into the pool.”
“Foods done!” Scott interrupted them.
There was a general commotion as the group of them rushed forward to claim their plates. Ororo and Logan hung back.
“’Ro.”
“Yes Logan?”
“We’re gonna continue what we started at the bottom of the pool.”
“You want to drown?”
He pinched her rear. “Logan!” she gasped. He’d always been a flirt, but that was forward even for him. He grinned unabashed. “And what is it you think we started at the bottom of the pool?”
“You were kissing me.
Ororo glowered. “I most certainly was not.”
“Ya trying ta deny it? You were kissin’ me.”
“You’re delusional.”
“Damn ‘Ro, I know when I’m being kissed and you kissed me.”
“I was not kissing you.”
“Yes, ya were.”
“No. I was not.”
“Were.”
“Not.”
They were scant inches apart now, glaring into each other’s eyes, chests heaving. Gambit strolled by, placing one hand in the center of Ororo’s back, gently shoving her forward into Logan’s arms, her lips planting on his.
“Gambit!”
Gambit laughed over his shoulder, giving her a shrug. “Someone ‘ad ta do it, padnat. You two are taking to damn long.”
Ororo tried to step back but found it impossible with Logan’s iron bands wrapped around her. “Goin’ somewhere?”
“Logan. This is foolish. We both know that you don’t want--” she looked away.
“Want what, ‘Ro. You?”
She nodded. “Yes. Me. I’m your friend, Logan. Nothing more.”
He nuzzled her neck. “Oh, yer much more, darlin’. Much more.”
Ororo gave a startled little gasp and Logan’s deep rumbling chuckle tickled her ear. “Let’s go grab some grub before it’s all gone.” He guided her to the patio where the others sat.
The afternoon passed surprisingly quickly with all the activities. There was a rousing game of volleyball that lasted until Rogue sent the game ball into orbit, followed by ice-cream and cake, and several drinks. All afternoon, Ororo was warmed by the heated looks Logan was giving her, letting her know he meant business, that they were a long way from done.
As the sky darkened, Jubliee and Kitty disappeared across the yard, setting off a wild display of fireworks. Unseen by the others Logan tugged Ororo’s hand, leading her back into the mansion and up to her attic loft.
“Our friendship?” she asked huskily as he trailed his lips across her neck, teasing her ear.
“Will be stronger than ever,” he stated.
“Log--”
“Shut up, ‘Ro. You talk too much.” -Snikt- Her top was undone.
“That’s my favorite top,” she halfheartedly complained.
“I’ve seen yer closet. You’ll survive.” He closed his mouth over one taut nipple.
Ororo moaned, “I am not so sure of that.”
Neither was he. Goddamn she felt good. So hot and responsive. Why the fuck had it taken him years to get here? But now that he was he knew it was where he’d always, always wanted to be.
Hours later as their climaxes took them to the heavens, they unlocked their hearts and gave each other the purpose and love so long denied them. Ororo clung to him and he to her. It wasn’t until their breathing had returned to normal that they heard the others down below muttering about freak summer storms, and Jubilee’s excited voice exclaiming, “It snowed! It freakin’ snowed! What on earth would make it snow in July?”
Logan chuckled, kissing her thoroughly. “Snow, darlin‘?”
Ororo blushed. “Do not let it go to your head.”
“Never.” He ran his tongue across her lips. “Let’s see if we can top it.”
Downstairs in the kitchen several of the soggy picnickers were carrying in the remaining dishes. “Don’ dat boy ever get tired?” Remy muttered as the clouds began to darken once more and the distinct growl of thunder boomed overhead.
Jean laughed, picking up the heated emotions coming from the loft. “I think we’re in for a long rainy night.” A surge of unimaginable love and protectiveness. “Many of them.”
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