Prelude – by Darlin

Disclaimer – No copyright infringement intended, I don’t own them, just having the usual fun.

A/N – A prelude of sorts to to Soul Mates. Pure fantasy so perhaps a tad out of character.

-xox-

Stilettoes. That was all Wolverine could think of whenever he saw Storm’s long legs moving rhythmically as she crossed and uncrossed them. Not too long ago she’d had the audacity to stand up to him when he’d wanted to rip Scott’s head off and he would have too but she’d stepped up and told him flat out no. Just like that. Not a trace of fear on her either. The memory still excited him as much as it had then.

The team was gathered in the rec room, most watching television but she was sitting quietly in a chair near the bay window reading a book. He stood in the doorway his eyes raking over the others briefly. Scott and Jean sitting side by side on a small couch, Kurt and Peter sitting on the largest couch with plenty of room between them and Sean stretched out in a chair on the other side of the room that matched the one Ororo was sitting in.

Try as he might he couldn’t keep the memory of her standing tall above him looking fierce as she told him in no uncertain words he wasn’t going to do jack not then not ever and if he did he’d answer to her. The memory sent a chill down his spine. It was the first time he’d seen she wasn’t just some annoying frail, that she actually had a backbone. It had stunned him and surprisingly turned him on. He drew his lips inward refusing to let them smile as his eyes lingered over her now. He had a strange urge to go to her – knew he shouldn’t yet couldn’t resist. He knew it would get him his head handed to him and still, he couldn’t stop himself. He sauntered through the room seemingly aimless until he ended up behind his target.

No one noticed he decided as he glanced around the room. He flexed his hands, took a deep breath, berated himself for being weak but immediately ignored the little voice of warning in the back of his head. He leaned over her shoulder slightly just as she turned to look at him. He liked that she wasn’t easy to slip up on, thought her hearing was almost as good as his – another thing to admire about her. And she was looking at him with a slightly bemused expression that tickled him. Most people were intimidated by him but she wasn’t in the least.

“Stilettoes,” he whispered, forcing himself to look away from those deep dark blue eyes; eyes any sane man could get lost in if he wasn’t careful.

“What?” she asked, craning her neck to see him better.

“Stiletoes. You’d look good in them,” he said with a crooked grin though he kept his eyes on the others while he spoke. “You should think about it.”

“I don’t know what . . .” Ororo stopped; he was walking away. She shook her head not sure what he’d meant. Under her breath she whispered, “Still let toes. Still let goes? What?” She shrugged her shoulders, half frustrated, half curious. She couldn’t possibly fanthom his meaning much less the man but she was used to that and let it go.

-xox-

Several days later some time after dinner when Ororo went up to her room she found a package on her bed. In actuality it looked to be a present wrapped in shiny blue paper and tied with an elaborate white bow. Surprised, she sat down on the bed, pulled the ribbon free and tore the gift wrapping off. It was the shape of a shoe box and a card was taped to the lid.

Stilettoes. That was all the card said. She spoke the word out loud saying each syllable slowly. Even more courious she opened the box. Inside a bed of white tissue paper laid a pair of black strappy high heels.

“Intriguing, so that’s what stilettoes are,” she murmured and then laughed.

She wore them the next day feeling like an amazon over six feet easily. Jean complimented her, wanted to know where she got them from, curious that she hadn’t been invited to tag along on Ororo’s shopping spree.

“They were a gift,” Ororo replied and when Jean, with wide astonished eyes, wanted more details she only smiled, changed the subject then slipped away.

It was silly but she enjoyed the secrecy and too, she wasn’t entirely sure how Jean would feel if she knew whom the shoes – the stilettoes – were from. She liked them, had become fond of high heels when required to wear them as part of her uniform which she’d loved at first sight heels and all. Shopping with Jean had shown her there were all kinds of reasons to add a new pair of shoes to one’s collection. She wondered what Logan’s reaction would be when he saw her in them. The anticipation left her feeling a little anxious. Perhaps she was mistaken and the stilettoes weren’t from him? But no, that would be unlikely especially after his cryptic behavior the other day.

When she saw him later that day she again second guessed herself. His usually bored, indifferent expression barely changed when he caught sight of her. Had she been wrong then? It hardly seemed possible and yet – ah wait . . . there, just for a second she thought she saw the tiniest of movement on that rugged face. One side of his mouth curled upwards the merest fraction and she was positive one eyebrow had arched just a bit in – appreciation?

Not known for emotional outbursts save in rage, Logan wasn’t about to let on how much the sight of her in a short dress and those stilletoes affected him. He had stopped in mid stride upon entering the room when he’d seen her, dazed at the image she created like a dream come to life. She was sitting in her favorite chair by the bay window her right leg crossed over her left, long and seemingly never ending and bobbing up and down slightly as she stared off into nothing looking as if she were anywhere but there. And then she jerked slightly as if coming back to reality when she’d turned and seen him standing there. He fought hard to recover the neutral expression he always wore and felt he’d suceeded.

Ororo was almost as unemotional as he was so he was very interested as to what her reaction would be. Would she be coy or pleased? But as they stared at each other there was barely recognition on her placid face. They looked at each other as if they were strangers. She let her eyes fall when he moved further into the room and he felt a stab of disappointment. As he settled himself into one of the empty chairs close to the television he couldn’t resist looking back at her once more. She was watching him though she quickly averted her eyes. He thought she looked a little miffed which for some unknown reason filled him with satisfaction.

While the others droned on during commercials his thoughts kept returning to Ororo. She looked like a goddess no denying that and nothing could be more alluring than Ororo in stilettoes . . . except . . . maybe . . . No, no, he wouldn’t allow himself to think about Ororo any more. Really – he wouldn’t. And he kept telling himself that, tried not to go where his wayward mind was taking him, tried hard to tame his straying thoughts, but in the end he simply couldn’t stop himself. Visions of Ororo in skimpy black underwear and the stilettoes filled his brain. It got him so riled up he had to make a discreet exit.

-xox-

A week later after avoiding Ororo as much as possible between meals, missions, briefings and lesiure time, and trying hard to maintain his cool whenever he was near her he was still not able to rid himself of visions of her in skimpy attire and poses you’d find in a men’s magazine. In fact, he’d had far too many dreams about her and though not all of them were erotic most were. There was one really bizzare one that where she was ordering him around domatrix style looking sexily menacing while wearing only a lacy black bra and black skimpy bikini bottoms. He’d never been into the domatrix thing but many a morning he found his lower regions didn’t exactly agree. And so one late evening, with the team gathered in the rec room as usual he found himself winding his way towards Ororo yet again.

“Mmm,” she breathed when she felt his warm breath on her neck. “What can I do for you?”

He gulped. She had no idea. Standing behind her chair ignoring everyone else in the room he wanted to grab her and do things he had no right to do much less think about. He blew gently in her ear. It was almost childish but he couldn’t resist.

“That . . . tickles,” she whispered.

She thought she heard a chuckle quickly stifled but he continued blowing lightly. She could feel his lips getting closer or at least imagined it and tingly goose bumps covered her arms. She shivered slightly.

“Hah! I win again! Hey, you two . . .” Jean called, looking up at Ororo and Logan and then doing a double take surprised to see the two in such an intimate pose. “Uh . . . hmm, I’m – I’m on a winning streak I thought one of you might want to play me the Mighty Mistress of Monoploy. Any takers?”

Logan stood slowly, stretched his thick muscular arms high above his head in the most nonchalant manner and ignored Jean altogether while Ororo merely shook her head, bit back a smile and went back to her book. He knew Jean was still watching him – watching them. He didn’t mind her looking, in fact he liked it. Jean was his type of woman. He really liked her, wanted her even, but she was Scott’s which meant all she could do was look. He could never see what she saw in the Boy Scout who was too much of a stick in the mud. Even now he was frowning at Jean, trying to recapture her attention by challenging her to another game. Scott amused Logan.

But something about Jean made him long for something he couldn’t quite grasp. It kept him tied there at Xavier’s when he knew he should have moved on long ago and yet something about this woman sitting in front of him, now lost in her book, also kept him. Something unfathomable about her called to him, drawing him in as if there was some unseen cord connecting them. It sounded absurd, was absurd in fact, he was sure, but it was there nonetheless. What it was, he wasn’t exactly sure any more than he was with the way he felt about Jean only his gut instinct told him it was almost primeval with Ororo. It was ancient as time, this growing need he felt, one part lust, one part insatiable curiosity and another part something he frankly didn’t want to understand.

He looked down at Ororo’s smooth white hair, yearned to reach out and touch it but quickly quelled the impulse. With an almost inaudible sigh he stepped closer to the bay window and turned to look out at the coming night while trying to put all thoughts of a Storm out of his mind.

-xox-

“Is something going on between you and Wolverine?” Jean asked Ororo the next day.

“Going on? I don’t understand what you mean,” Ororo replied.

“The way he was standing by you last night . . . it looked . . . it looked . . . You two aren’t an item are you?”

Jean had to laugh at Ororo’s preplexed look.

“Like Scott and me, how we’re together. You know – dating.”

Now Ororo laughed.

“So is there something going on?” Jean asked again.

“No.”

“Oh.”

It was as simple as that. Ororo never went into details. She just simply lived life appreciating all it had to offer even while she didn’t always understand American customs. She didn’t gossip, she didn’t offer intimate tibits and yet Jean had come to enjoy the ertswhile goddess, glad to have her as a friend and so she pried no further.

-xox-

There was another present waiting for Ororo a few days later neatly wrapped in white paper with a red ribbon and once again placed in the middle of her bed.

‘To wear with your stilettoes’ the card read.

Feeling like an excited child Ororo unwrapped it with trembling fingers, ribbon and paper flying. What she found was a smooth bundle of folded tissue paper. She paused a moment before picking it up. It fit in one hand and weighed nearly nothing. The excitement she’d felt just a few seconds ago quickly turned into apprehension though she couldn’t say why. Biting her lower lip she slowly unfolded the paper, her stomach a sea of knots.

“Oh!” she gasped. She didn’t know whether to be angry or laugh when she saw the lacy black panties and bra.

Certain it came from Wolverine she couldn’t quite understand what his intention was. The man was a mystery to her. She knew he admired Jean, perhaps even wanted a relationship with Jean but, despite all his bravado, he was a man of honor and Ororo knew he would never try anything as long as Jean was still with Scott. She held up the exquiste pieces and wondered aloud,

“So, now what?”

-xox-

Just daydreaming about Ororo in the lingerire and stilettoes was more than enough for Logan. He had no hopes of her modeling them for him but a man could dream couldn’t he? Still that incessant unnameable urge crept over him and even he though he knew he shouldn’t he knew he was going to do something about it. It wasn’t right, was actually stupid but despite knowing it he found himself walking up the steps to Ororo’s room in the attic. He’d just say hi he told himself, no harm in that right?

Often times when he passed by the stairs that led to the attic he heard giggling and other little noises women made when they were together, the kind of noises that always annoyed him slightly even while his curiosity was piqued. There was utter silence now. The white painted door to her bedroom loomed almost ominously at the top of the landing. He wondered what she was doing then told himself he didn’t care. But he did. He told himself to turn around and go back down but he didn’t. Nor did he bother to knock when he knew he should. The door, as always, wasn’t shut completely and he could clearly see inside.

Again his conscious tried to wrest control, telling him to knock, to make his presence be known but Logan was having none of that. He leaned closer to the door the better to see the daydream come to life that was Ororo. He was sure she thought everyone but herelf was asleep. It would explain why she was cavorting about half naked in front of a cheval mirror. Bedazzled, he could hardly think straight. She was wearing nothing but the gifts he’d given her – too good to be true and yet there she was watching him.

He gulped when he saw her eyes meet his. Ororo, sensing someone behind her had glanced into the mirror finding Logan gawking at her as if in a trance. He looked completely caught off guard when he noticed she’d seen him which amused her. She turned to face him curious what he was doing but all he could do was open and close his mouth several times while trying to swallow and think of something creditable to say without suceeding.

“Is there something I can do for you?” Ororo asked.

His eyes got even larger she noticed. He was barely able to shake his head.

“Hi,” he managed to get out.

“Hi yourself,” she said with a smile.

“Just wanted to see if you got them.”

“I did.”

“Oh. Um. Okay.”

“They’re lovely.”

“Yup.”

“Thank you.”

“Yup.”

After a few seconds Logan nodded, brought two fingers up to his brow in a kind of salute and then he reached for the door, pulled it shut then fled.

“A strange little man,” Ororo murmured, turning back to the mirror with a bewildered look.

Logan dashed down the stairs smacking himself on the forehead repeatedly.

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! What did I do that for? Like I think I’m a captain or something? Stupid!” he groaned but what else could he have done? If he hadn’t shut the door he wouldn’t have been responsible for what would have happened. He couldn’t go there. Never. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. He swore he wouldn’t.

-xox-

After a very uncomfortable breakfast where Logan attempted to avoid Ororo but ended up running into her all the same as she too was avoiding him and had come down late he decided he needed to set things right. However, knowing this didn’t mean it would be easy. He went over in his head a hundred times over thinking what to say to her. She wasn’t his type, he was only fooling around, no harm done right? Or he’d just tell her she looked gorgeous in the things he’d given her. The little angel sitting on his shoulder nixed that idea but the little devil on the opposite shoulder persisted. He wouldn’t have said anything at all except he didn’t want her thinking he was a perverted peeping Tom.

By time Ororo came back with Jean from an outing in the City he’d finally worked up his nerves. Taking a deep breath and once again ignoring the others in the rec room Logan thread his way slowly over to Ororo. It looked as if she were concentrating on the book she was reading and hadn’t noticed him. He watched the others covertedly a little as he stood behind her chair by the window. He chomped on the cigar stuck in the corner of his mouth full of determination then lowered his head close to hers.

“I’m wearing them now,” she whispered before he could say or do anything.

He saw her legs unfold, parting a little then slowly, crossing again and he caught his breath. Everything was turned upside down with those four words and that sensual movement of those beautiful long legs. Before reason set in he brushed her ear with his lips then let them settle under her ear just under along the jaw line ever so lightly. He heard her moan softly. He wanted to put his hands on her – all over her, wanted to pick her up and carry her to his room, rip off the dress she had on and make her say dirty things while he did everything he’d been fantasizing about to her. But the spell they were both caught up in was broken unexpectedly.

“What are you doing, tovarisch?” Peter asked in his deep voice, startling them both so mcuh that they unconsciously moved away from each other.

“Asking the lady something – you mind?” Logan replied with more gruffness than usual.

“It did not look like that to me,” Peter said, rising as if he meant to challenge Logan.

“He wasn’t disturbing me, Peter.”

But even Ororo’s reassurance didn’t keep Peter from glancing their way every few seconds after he sat back down. Under that burning gaze Logan was forced to retreat.

“Ach, Logan what’s going on?” Kurt asked, joining Logan as he left the room.

“Nothing, Elf.”

“Are you sure? Because if there is something going on between you and Ororo you will have to answer to Peter and myself.”

Logan stopped. He studied Kurt. The Elf was serious.

“Nothing’s going on, Kurt,” he repeated for really, what was going on was nothing but silly childish antics.

“Good.”

So that was it? They thought he wasn’t good enough for the goddess? They still hadn’t come to realize the goddess they were so fond of protecting didn’t need protecting and was wearing underwear he’d bought her and probably thinking dirty thoughts just like him. They saw her as someone she really wasn’t; he’d seen the real Ororo Munroe but all it was getting him was in too deep.

-xox-

As dawn approached Logan’s mind was as restless as his heart. Sleep was impossible. He saw Ororo in her first snow, the childlike joy, remembered her dancing with fireflies in the summer, serene and enchanting, he saw her admonishing him in no uncertain terms beautiful and bold in her righteousness, he saw her posing before her mirror in the heels and lingerie he’d given her, and he saw Kurt and Peter’s looks of anger following him as if to ask who he thought he was to dare to dream of the goddess admist them. They didn’t know her like he did. He’d come to see she was both more and less than the goddess the others saw. Where they saw only the outer shell, lovely, feminine, delicate he knew she was earthy and real.

Despite his attitude towards her in the past he liked her, liked her a whole lot more after she’d balled him out. He’d discovered Ororo was exasperating and unpredictable and fascinating. She was just herself, no airs, no pretending. No other woman he’d ever met was like her or could match her in that. He sighed. It didn’t matter how well he thought he’d come to know her, ultimately Peter and Kurt were right. Besides what woman of that caliber would want him? Not Jean. Not Ororo either. He wasn’t good enough.

With this admission he felt his head clear finally. Whatever it was that had spurred him on had caused him to make a seriuos fool out of himself. First, he knew not to get involved with anyone he worked with. Second, he had the hots for Jean and getting involved with Jean’s best friend was just stupid whether he was ever going to have a chance with Jean or not. And third, he’d begun to enjoy the little game he’d been playing with Storm far too much. It had become more than just hoping for a round in the sack. He resented the need he couldn’t explain. He wanted – needed – control more than anything, to tame the beast inside him, for a normal life. More than anything he longed for normalcy which meant a quiet, predictable woman, someone who was safe and familiar, the complete opposite of Ororo.

-xox-

The next day began and ended pretty much like any other day. Logan and Ororo passed each other at breakfast as if nothing had passed between them. They worked together while training under Scott’s watchful eye but there wasn’t a hint of what had happened over the past few weeks. The team gathered in the rec room to relax after dinner and Ororo took her usual seat with book in hand and Logan sat down on the couch with Kurt to watch a movie. Logan didn’t allow himself to wonder what she was wearing under her skimpy uniform and Ororo didn’t let herself think of what she’d hoped for when he’d come to her room. Seeing this, that all was as it should be, Peter and Kurt breathed a sigh of relief and everyone went on as they had before. It was over – whatever it had been or might have been.

Thinking back on the past few days Ororo never quite understood what she’d been thinking. Whispering in the rec room so the others wouldn’t hear her as if she and Logan were conspiring. Certainly it had been juvenile but on another level it had been sensuous too. She’d liked the sudden attention, enjoyed the unexpected presents and had truthfully looked forward to the next stage though she had no idea what that would or could have been. She knew for all their talk about sexual freedom Americans were stuffy and uptight when it came to sex so she hadn’t persumed to think that’s what he wanted and still, somehow she had . . . what? Hoped? Was she crazy? No and yes. That little man whom she’d had to straighten out more than once had actually gotten to her.

Well, it was good he’d finally snapped out of whatever it was that had gotten into him, she decided. She would never have been able to explain it to Jean and there was no way Peter would have approved and she valued his friendship too much to lose over foolishness. Yes, it was good they’d both snapped out of it and she felt Logan would agree.

As if he’d heard her thoughts he looked up from his conversation with Kurt and stared at her. She thought to look away but quickly admonished herself for why should she when she – they – had done nothing wrong? He surprised her with a wink and a grin before turning back to Kurt. She covered her mouth but chuckled despite her efforts to hold it in.

“What’s so funny, Ororo?” Jean asked, looking over from where she sat with Scott.

“Oh, nothing. I suppose I’m happy everything’s fine.”

“For a change huh?” Jean said giving Ororo a quizzical look.

Everything truly was fine Ororo saw. In that one look she saw that she and Logan would continue to be friends without the awkwardness she’d dreaded. What had happened had happened whether either of them understood it and now it was over. Some instinctive voice inside her as old as time told her what might yet occur between them was not up to her or even up to him. Fate alone would decide.

Well, now that the silliness is over I can sleep tonight, she thought. She yawned deeply full of relief and exhaustion from a sleepless night then bid her friends a good night.

But sleep for Logan and Ororo would remain difficult for long seasons yet. The uncertainties and missteps in their relationship haunting them even when they would finally give into the persistent need that called to them, binding them whether they wished to acknowledge it or not for how do you deny fate who alone determines your soul mate?