“Eyes on the Storm”

A Fan-Fiction by Neomage

AUTHOR NOTE: I have not read any X-Men comics in years, and I have especially not seen any of the newer ones…that is to say, those from 1998 to the present. As such, any information in this story relating to canonical events in the comics are gleaned solely from information taken from Wikipedia and other online sources.

This story was originally titled “A Kitten in a Storm,” and contained some very adult material in it. In order to comply with the rules of , and to reconcile myself with my fairly recent vow never to compile even near-explicit contact between my stories’ characters unless they happen to be married couples, I have drastically edited much of what was originally written here. As such, this story will be my very last forage into suggestive fem-slash, as I had originally planned for it to be.

RATING: This story is rated M. It is not to be accessed or read by anyone under the age of 16. It contains suggestive adult themes and slightly edited physical descriptions. This story contains fem-slash themes and erotic interactions between women. If this kind of content offends you, or you are not old enough to view this content, then please do not read this story.

DISCLAIMER: X-Men, all X-Men characters, and all X-Men-related media do not belong to me. They are the sole property of Marvel Comics.

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Eyes on the Storm

Kitty Pryde had a problem.

Curled up on the living room couch, she looked out the window. The weather outside the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters was quite bad on this July night. Torrents of rain were battering down upon the roof, with the drops sliding down the walls of the building and ending up spreading all across the front yard, turning the grassy lot into marshland in the process. Lightning flashed across the sky every few moments, accompanied by obligatory peals of thunder. The wind howled alongside the rest of the natural orchestra.

But that wasn’t Kitty’s problem.

The mansion was, for the most part, empty—save for a few students who’d decided to stay here at the institute instead of going to their own homes, some who couldn’t go home for all sorts of reasons, and a certain blue-furred science-nut who was probably lost amidst his notes. Professor Xavier, with a delegation of the majority of the X-Men, had left for a mission in South America hours ago, before the storm hit. Not the life-threatening kind of mission in which they might be called upon to fight the Marauders, or the Acolytes, or any such genuine threat—this was a simple diplomatic meeting where, yet again, the rights of mutants in that part of the world would be discussed at length. The X-Men had gone to oversee the proceedings from a distance, and to intervene if the talks should break down. Violently so. And on the team the Professor had selected were several of Kitty’s close friends, Danielle and Piotr included. Kitty herself hadn’t been chosen, but only because she hadn’t been at the mansion at the time of the debriefing—having been visiting her parents for a few days—and had only just gotten back when the Blackbird was taking to the skies, only knowing of the mission because Danielle had left a message for her informing her of what was happening.

But being left behind when the others were going on a mission wasn’t Kitty’s problem either.

After having gotten settled back in her room and having put away her things, she’d found a second message, this one from Scott: she’d have to put in a few hours of training in the Danger Room over the weekend, alongside him and Jean. Kitty hadn’t been thrilled at the idea. Couldn’t Scott learn to lighten up a little, or at least once in a while? Just because she hadn’t been there over the past few days she’d spent with her parents, he expected her to make up the time missed with extensive training. She wondered how Jean put up with Mr. Perfect.

But even Mr. Perfect’s anal attitude wasn’t Kitty’s problem, either. After all, today was Thursday. That meant there’d be another twenty-four hours between now and the weekend. At least Scott had enough of a heart to allow her the extra time to get settled back into the mansion. Maybe Jean had persuaded him. Kitty would have to remember to thank her later.

No, the problem was of a completely different nature. Kitty wasn’t afraid of the storm, upset at being left out of the team’s latest mission, or mad at Scott for being President Dick of the Xavier Institute. If those alone had been the only factors influencing her night tonight, she could’ve coped.

But Kitty was bored. And if boredom could kill, there would’ve been a chalk outline around Kitty’s lifeless body on the living room rug right now.

She wasn’t bored because she couldn’t watch TV due to the storm—that was a given with storms, anyway. They could knock out electrical equipment with ease, and for that reason the rule around the mansion was that only the absolute most important electronic equipment, such as for the mansion’s security system and for Cerebro, should remain on during storms. Nor was she bored because she was stuck here at the mansion instead of being out there with the others on their mission. In fact, she was glad for a chance to put her feet up and relax for a change. Not that she hadn’t had a chance to rest at her parents’, but there’d been chores to do there, chores she couldn’t escape since she was the daughter of the house.

No, the reason for Kitty’s boredom was different. She was bored because she didn’t have anyone to talk to. That was one thing she liked to do during storms—just hang around with her friends and exchange talk about anything or anyone while waiting for the storm to break. And one couldn’t effectively do that when out on a mission, or training in the Danger Room, or even when simply watching TV, regardless of weather conditions. The art of real conversation was too sacred to be mixed in with such background interruptions.

And the ones Kitty would’ve liked to talk to most were included in the team roster that had gone out. Among the senior members, there were precious few that Kitty felt she could actually converse with. Jean was often preoccupied, but she was certainly more approachable than Scott, and definitely friendlier. The Professor was, to Kitty, the kind of person who you only ever spoke to when you needed counseling. Logan wasn’t with the team—he’d been gone for some time now, out who knew where doing whatever he did when he wasn’t at the mansion. Dr. McCoy was here, of course, but when he got preoccupied with his experiments, he got preoccupied. Besides, whenever he did have a moment to talk, whatever he said to you would go in one ear and out the other, just what science-speak did to Kitty.

Then there was Ororo…

A small smile played on Kitty’s lips. Of the adults on the X-Men team, she liked Ororo the best. Of the lot of them, Ororo was the one she felt she could trust the most. Certainly, the silver-haired woman was old enough to be her mother, but she didn’t look down on Kitty because of that fact. The two could sit together and talk about anything, confide in each other, laugh and smile and chat with ease. Ororo had been the first to befriend Kitty when the younger woman first came to the Xavier Institute, had taken her under her wing, fought alongside her, guided her with the patience that only Ororo Munroe could have.

And Kitty, in turn, looked up to the African princess, admired her, wanted to emulate her. Time after time, when she’d gone on missions where Storm had been team leader, Kitty never failed to observe her, even if only for a fleeting moment depending on the level of danger around them. Storm had often been cut, bruised, crushed under rubble, with only her powers and the aid of her comrades keeping her from leaving the mortal coil altogether; but she never lost her appeal to Kitty. It did not matter that the two women were ages apart, and were of different backgrounds and upbringings, and had levels of experience separated by the years each had spent with the X-Men. Storm issued commands with combined patience and authority, and just as easily as she could strike a foe down with one of her signature lightning bolts, she could be caring as she helped a wounded ally away from the battlefield. Simultaneously tough, strong, wise, beautiful, sympathetic…

Kitty sighed. She hadn’t seen Ororo anywhere around the mansion since she’d gotten back. No surprise—the storm goddess must have gone off on the mission with the others. She could be counted on to be diplomatically correct, to defuse tempers should they fly. She was as potent in a political conflict as she was in physical combat. It would only be right that she would have been chosen to go on this particular mission with the others, after all.

Another flash of lightning and peal of thunder let rip outside. Kitty, in response, stood up from the couch. “Screw this. I’m going to bed,” she muttered.

Defying the raging storm outside, she headed for the nearby staircase. Every upward step she took only seemed to underscore Mother Nature’s tempestuous orchestra; the rain pounding on the roof and outside walls echoed in her ears. At least the storm orchestra would be a companion to her once she was in bed. It would definitely be a good companion to replace Piotr, in a sense; only recently they’d agreed to take some time apart to sort through their feelings for each other, though that didn’t stop their general friendship.

Presently she reached the landing for the third floor—and paused. To her right was a doorway to one of the bathrooms on this floor…a particular doorway she knew only Ororo ever went into. Given the number of people who lived here, there were a number of bathrooms to facilitate everyone, with the instructors each having a personal bathroom. This one was Ororo’s, and nobody else ever went in here without her permission. And…right now the door was partially open, indicating that it was vacant.

Kitty heard footsteps around the corner from the bathroom door. Quickly and lightly, she stepped back down a few steps and shrank around the corner a little, then peeked out to see who it could be. Hopefully it was someone she could have a few words with before she really went to bed.

The footsteps came closer, then rounded the corner. Kitty’s eyes widened a little when she saw who it was. Silver hair…chocolate skin…a face full of a perfect blend of calm and authority.

Ororo?

Kitty blinked. So Ororo hadn’t gone on the mission after all. She’d stayed behind, probably to make sure things were kept under control at the mansion while the other X-Men were out. The 18-year-old smiled. Now she’d be guaranteed an opportunity to share her experiences of the last few days with someone, to have someone listen to her and offer feedback. And Ororo would be the perfect person to do just that.

Then Ororo headed for the bathroom door and disappeared inside. The light was switched on.

Kitty sighed with impatient frustration. So, after all, it would have to wait until the older woman came out of the bathroom. She’d probably be freshening up for bed. And generally, whenever Ororo went to bed, it was wise not to disturb her till the next morning, or unless an emergency was on hand. Kitty didn’t know what would happen if Storm’s sleep was disturbed outside of either scenario, but somehow she didn’t feel it was right to awaken Storm from slumber for any other reason.

Then the girl noticed something. She could still see the light shining from inside the bathroom. The door hadn’t been pushed shut. Maybe Ororo wasn’t going to spend long in there, after all. In that case, she could creep up to the door, wait outside, and speak to Ororo after she was done inside.

Kitty crept back up the stairs toward the landing again, then edged toward the door. Gingerly, she peeked through the crack in the doorway. All seemed normal inside the bathroom, with its wash-basin, and its mirror, and its toilet, and its shower with transparent glass partitions instead of curtains. And with Ororo standing in the middle of the bathroom, in front of the aforementioned mirror, running her hands through her hair a little. Ororo was clad in a long white robe, with thin shoulder-straps. Kitty recognized it as the woman’s nightgown, which she’d seen several times before whenever Ororo came downstairs clad in it, with a bathrobe worn over it to protect her modesty, of course. She was definitely going to prep for bed.

Then Ororo placed her hands on the nightgown straps and slid them off her shoulders. At once the whole gown fell to the floor, in a huge white heap at her feet. Outside the bathroom door, Kitty’s eyes widened at what she saw. A soft gasp escaped her lips, and she had to put a hand over her mouth to stifle it. ‘No…way…’ her mind said.

Ororo’s body was nothing short of perfection. Her arms and legs were finely toned, made so from her years as a warrior. She had a pair of mounds on her chest that were easily comparable to melons, with what looked like dark cherries sticking out on them. Her stomach had no middle-age bulge as Kitty would’ve expected of some middle-aged women, but was well-sculpted with abs that looked as if one could break a rock on them. Further down…Kitty blushed a little when she saw that Ororo’s private hair was as white as the hair on her head. Then Ororo turned toward the shower, and Kitty got a good look at the woman’s back and backside. Her back was as toned as the rest of her body; her rear cheeks looked tight and sturdy. It was as if she’d stepped out of a Renaissance painting, or had been a sculpture that was just given life and flesh.

Ororo pulled aside the glass partition to the shower and stepped inside, shutting it behind her. A few seconds later, water spurted from the shower head above her, and she reached down to the soap-dish to pick up the green bar that rested there. She then began to run the bar over her arms, working up a good lather.

Kitty gulped. What am I doing? she wondered to herself. It’s just a shower…Ororo’s just taking a shower, nothing strange about that…and I’ve seen girls showering before, when I had to share shower stalls with them in the locker room at school…

But that didn’t explain why she couldn’t just move away, just leave…why she was so captivated by the image before her eyes.

Glancing up and down the corridor to see if anyone might be approaching or lurking nearby, Kitty then turned her gaze back to the showering African woman. Soap suds were coursing down Ororo’s back and sides…a few of those suds were running in rivers into the crack of Ororo’s behind…over those cheeks…down her muscular thighs. Kitty looked on, fascinated. The water seemed to make Ororo’s dark skin glow in the light of the bulb illuminating the bathroom. Her silver hair shone, wet with the shower water and hanging loosely down over and around her shoulders.

Ororo reached down and picked up a bottle sitting on the side of the bath, opening it and squirting something into the palm of her hand. Then, rubbing both hands together, she ran them through her hair. At once her soaked silver curls became soapy. Ororo ran her fingers through her hair like a comb, rubbing the shampoo in and washing her scalp thoroughly. Doing this for a few minutes, she stepped directly under the shower head and held her head up, allowing the water to run through her hair and over her face. As she did this, she turned slightly, affording Kitty a generous view of her front.

Kitty bit her lip to stifle any sound she might make, but the view before her eyes wasn’t making it easy for her. Now she could see Ororo’s face. Ororo’s eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted, as her fingers massaged her scalp and ran through her curls. The shampoo suds ran down her face, down her neck…over her firm mammaries…down her washboard abs, into her navel…into the V-shape of her pubic hair…

Kitty had never thought she could another woman attractive in…this sort of way. Sure, there’d been times when she’d looked with fascination and admiration at some beautiful and influential women, Ororo included, but she’d never attributed any physical motive to such feelings that ran through her. Even so, she had to ask herself, which individual wouldn’t be attracted to Ororo Munroe? The woman was a goddess, plain and simple. She oozed confidence. She reeked of sensuality. The latter didn’t show as often as the former, but Ororo never made any attempt to hide her femininity. And despite having such an athletic build as she had, her body was feminine in every way, and not just because of her obvious attachments.

She looked at Ororo’s frontal view again. Her own chest was nothing to be ashamed of, but looking at the older X-Man in the shower, Kitty felt quite small in comparison. And now she was growing more aware of a slowly-rising heat in her groin. She found herself wishing she could’ve had a camera or a camcorder on hand, to take a few shots of the ebony beauty in there…

Kitty mentally slapped herself. She wasn’t a pervert—she didn’t think of herself as one, at least. She certainly would’ve hated it if anybody were to videotape her while she was in the buff, after all. But…was Ororo that reserved? Mental recall reminded Kitty of a story Ororo had once told her of her own past, before she joined the X-Men, about how she’d been the rain goddess of an African tribe that practiced nudism. The silver-haired mutant had said back then that due to her living in such an environment, wearing clothes was now stifling for her; she only wore clothes out of respect for Western customs and traditions.

Ororo must be glad for times like this. She can just…be.

Her attention was drawn back to the nude black woman. Now Ororo’s hands were sliding down from her hair to her neck…to her chest. Kitty watched as Ororo gently squeezed each orb, running her palms over them, lightly grazing the stiff smaller bumps on them with her fingertips. Then one hand went down further, in a slow path, tracing uneven lines across her abdomen and above her crotch. Her fingers ran lightly through her pubic hair. Then Ororo shifted her thighs a little and her hand disappeared between them, rubbing back and forth slowly, while her other hand continued caressing her breasts, rubbing the soap all over them. Ororo leaned her head back a little, eyes still shut, and her lips parted a little more widely.

The heat between Kitty’s legs became uncomfortable, yet she still couldn’t find it in herself to pull away from the bathroom door. She felt a mixture of relief and disappointment as, seemingly all too soon, Ororo’s hands were removed from her privates and went back to running through her soaked hair. There wasn’t anything significant in Ororo’s action moments ago, after all. She was just washing down there, that was all. Every woman who bathed had to put a hand down there to wash it.

That didn’t make the heat Kitty felt subside any.

Then, abruptly, Ororo shifted and turned the water off. At once Kitty realized that the older woman’s shower was over, and she would emerge from behind the glass partitions. If Ororo were to turn around now, she might see Kitty standing there. And as comfortable with nudity as Ororo was, Kitty didn’t think Ororo would be so comfortable about having been watched all this time.

Kitty crept away from the door and hurried off down the corridor. She needed to get away from there now, away from Ororo’s presence, fast. Maybe once she was away from the sight of the weather witch, her brain would clear and the heat she felt would cool.

Maybe.

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Ororo ran the towel through her hair, a small smile on her lips. She’d known all along about her impromptu visitor. Granted, she hadn’t expected anyone to peek on her while she was in such a vulnerable state, but her instinct had let her know she was being watched the moment those eyes caught sight of her nudity. Had the eyes been those of an enemy who’d somehow managed to sneak into the mansion without tripping the security system, she would have been prepared to fight. Her intuition had told her, however, that the watching eyes were not filled with any malice, but with genuine curiosity. She’d supposed that it was one of the younger and more adventurous students who’d simply been lucky enough to catch an eyeful through the bathroom door while passing by. So long as nothing would have been said about it after the fact, Ororo was prepared to let the matter slide. If the student blabbed, she knew, she’d have to take steps to stop the potential gossip mill and be much more vigilant with safeguarding her privacy in the future.

But while she’d been busy soaping herself and applying her shampoo, she’d managed to take very covert glances toward the door without alerting her viewer to that fact. She’d been in enough espionage situations during missions to pull that off with at least a fair degree of convincing. An effective spy should not give the slightest trace that his or her presence could already be known to the target; and in this, from Ororo’s perspective, her voyeur had failed. On the other hand, if the target was in fact aware of the spy’s presence, then the target should not give any clue that might tip off the spy to that fact. In that, Ororo was skilled…at least enough so as not to alert an inexperienced eavesdropper.

But even so…to know that those watching eyes at the bathroom doorway had belonged to her precious Kitten…Kitten, who always looked up to her…who confided in her…who counted on her to steer the younger woman in the right direction…that her Kitten’s eyes could have had full view of her in such an exposed state, could have looked at her with such…fascination…

Dear Kitten…I hope you won’t feel too awkward after this… Ororo slowly rubbed the water from her skin with the towel. Her smile grew a little wider. It’ll probably be for the best if I don’t reveal how much I enjoyed having you as my audience. You probably feel strange enough right now as it is. Now she chuckled. Such barricading norms you Westerners have.

She took a deep breath as she replaced the towel on the rack, then bent down and picked up her discarded nightgown. As she did, she looked at her unclothed self in the mirror, seeing what Kitty had been eyeing moments ago. Now she was glad she’d opted to stay behind and keep watch over the mansion instead of going on the mission with the others. Tonight, she would be busy.

Very busy.

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Ten minutes later…

The darkness of her room masked Kitty’s actions. The combined thunder-rumbling and rain-pattering outside served to cover up her sounds to a considerable degree.

Her mind was on Ororo. On the beautiful treasures the older woman possessed. On the way she’d seemed like a still-life art form. It would be hard to look at the other X-Man the same way, after what had happened moments ago. Perhaps, when she was ready, Kitty, could inform Storm about her unintentional spying. Maybe when she wasn’t too shy to talk to the older woman about it.

Kitty didn’t know how long that would take. She prayed it wouldn’t be too long.

She buried her face into the pillow to stifle her sobs, in case the noise of the storm outside wouldn’t be enough. Her lower body bucked repeatedly into the mattress. The mental image of the Nubian goddess’s beauty, decorated by the shower droplets and the soap suds, played tauntingly before her eyes. Underneath herself, her fingers exercised violently.

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Two floors directly above Kitty’s room, in the sanctity of her own quarters, Ororo had thoughts of her own. Her body responded to the thoughts. Her eyes flashed white with electric energy. Outside her window, streaks of lightning zigzagged erratically, as if in answer to her ever-increasing frantic mental demand. Her wind-controlling power activated, levitating her body from its place on her bed. And all her thoughts were only in one place.

Kitten…

She thought again about how her young friend’s eyes had been set on her, in such an unguarded moment. A moment where, had those eyes belonged to any of their numerous foes, she would likely have been set upon without warning. In such a situation, Ororo’s response would have been swift and vicious, never mind the question of the intruder seeing what he or she shouldn’t have seen. As it was, to replay in her mind the fact that those eyes had, in fact, belonged to her Kitten…that Kitten was the one to have seen her with her shields down…

The thought animated Ororo like nothing before ever had.

The wind and the rain howled. The lightning became more erratic. The thunder chorused. Inside, Ororo’s power kept her levitated above her bed.

She’d wait for Kitty. She’d wait for the younger woman to bring up the matter of the shower-watching scene, when she was comfortable doing so. In the meantime, Ororo would continue being the good mentor she’d tried to be to Kitty up to now. And, perhaps, if fate allowed, Ororo could take her mentoring a step further. She didn’t know how Kitty would react to such an idea…but she was willing to gamble that the young mutant wouldn’t shy away from the opportunity.

For the moment, though, Ororo could wait. In the meantime, she was glad she could finally put to practical use the small, well-crafted idol replica she’d gotten as a gift from her old African tribe while on a visit there several months earlier.

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Neomage: This is it, folks. Drastically revised so as to adhere to the site’s rules and my own imposed barrier, as explained above. As it is, I think this new version captures the mood perfectly well without being obscene. At least, I think so.

Let me know what you think, everyone! Review soon, please!