Ororo brushed back a strand of her silvery white hair as she overlooked her
classroom. Her unruly hair seemed to match the appearance of the room; in a
frenzy to leave her history class on the last day before winter break the
students had left the desks in crooked jambles, papers were left crumpled on
the floor, and the fresh snow had mixed delightfully with the student's
shoes, leaving a muddy residue all over the floor. ~All this and I still
have the finals to grade. And those damn papers. What was I thinking
making them do a ten page research paper?~
Ororo's sigh was ostensible and her shoulders sagged. "Might as well get
started," she muttered to herself as she pushed a desk, Young Bobby's, she
believed, back into its original position. ~It's not like anyone else is
going to do it for me.~
It was already evening, and almost all of the students had gone home for the
holidays. The ones that hadn't had gone with Gambit on a five day trip to
Montreal. The Professor was visiting Moira on Muir Island, and Jean and
Scott had decided to go and visit her parents for Christmas. Ororo, with
nothing better to do, had opted for staying at the school and working.
This had been Ororo's second year teaching history at the school. Before
that, she had only stuck to art, botany, and English, but the Professor had
chided her into it. "We just simply don't have enough qualified teachers
for our growing number of students," he had told her in his office that
fateful August day, when it was so humid that her hair had been like a cloud
of mist around her head. "I was hoping that when Logan arrived, perhaps he
could take over a teaching position or two, but as it turns out, I suppose
~Logan. Ha,~ Storm thought bitterly as she continued her work, picking up
what appeared to be a porn magazine from under.once again, Bobby's desk.
~Logan.~ She let her mind roll over his name for a minute. He had just
waltzed into their lives without even a hello, and left pretty much the same
way. The first time Ororo had even seen him, he hadn't even acknowledged
her. Well, to be fair, he was on the verge of passing out after battling
Sabertooth. She and Scott had been in northern New York when the Professor
linked his mind with theirs and told them that there were two mutants in
trouble. She had just managed to drag Scott into a little boutique, where
she had just found the perfect pottery piece for her garden. It had taken
her hours to find it, and just as long to finally convince Scott to walk
into the store. But she was Storm, the all powerful Goddess. She was
always on duty. She didn't deserve any time to herself.
Storm frowned. She was sounding stupid and snobbish, even to herself.
Sure, she loved being an X-Man, but she felt like she didn't have a life
outside of it. She had no friends who weren't in the School, no real
family, and she hadn't gone out on a date for nearly three years, so like
any normal woman, she had been taking out her anger and confusion by buying
trinkets. When they left the boutique and finally found Logan and Rogue,
Storm immediately conjured up a wind and a storm and took care of their
problem. It was that simple. ~Goddess, they could have let Cyclops handle
that one by himself. Oh stop that! You sound like a bitter old hag.~
But the mission came with something that was a bit more complicated. Logan.
Wolverine, as he called himself. Even as she and Scott carried his
incapacitated body to their car, she had felt some sort of pull to him.
Something natural. It had excited her, she told herself, and that was it.
It was because of his wild side, his animal behavior, that was all she felt.
Although, she was a little more than disappointed when he woke up and only
had eyes for Jean.
Not that he shouldn't. Jean was much prettier than her. Jean had hair like
a rose and skin like a lily, where Ororo's skin and hair looked as
mismatched as a four year olds coloring book. Jean also had charisma. Where
Ororo would silently contemplate, Jean would laugh, giggle, and do other
girlish things. Even though they were nearly the same age, Ororo wasn't
sure when she was born, she always felt like a matron standing next to her.
When Logan chased after Jean and not her, Ororo had quietly called herself
foolish and contented herself with watering her garden. For some reason,
though, she had felt angry about it. Angry at Logan. Angry at him for
choosing Jean and not her. But that was long ago. Nearly two years had
passed. Logan had returned, for good, he said, and although he still had
eyes for Jean, it seemed like his chances were slim, since Jean and Scott
had been engaged for nearly seven months.
Jean and Scott. Now that was a fairy tale come to life. American Boy meets
American Girl, they fall in love, get married, and eventually have many
offspring. Although Ororo was happy for Jean, a little voice in the back of
her mind was jealous and kept screaming at her, "Why does she deserve to be
happy and not you? Why don't you have a man?" Even though she tried to
block this voice out, it got to her sometimes, and when it did, she found
herself being extremely rude to Logan, the man who didn't want her, even
though that was insane.
Ororo almost giggled at remembering how out of character she got when the
green eyed monster struck. In her last encounter with Logan, two days ago,
she had felt the same jealousy and promptly told him to piss off. When
Logan had eyed her questionably, she had restated it in simpler terms. Fuck
off. Although saying it had made her feel a little better, she felt rather
bad about it now.
~Goddess, I'm a real bitch sometimes.~
Ororo surveyed her work. All the desks were neatly arranged and most of the
papers and debris were picked up and neatly tucked into the trash bin.
~Onto the grading.~
Removing a black elastic hair tie from her wrist, she piled her hair in a
loose, flowing knot on the top of her head and sat down at her desk. Her
chair creaked ever so slowly as she leaned back in it, searching her bottom
drawer for her red pen. When she found it, she pulled the cap off with her
teeth and looked at the ominous stacks of papers before her. There were
three stacks in all; one were the research papers, one was the finals, and
the other was the essay section of the finals.
Eyeing the large stack, she finally understood why a lot of students hated
She sighed and grabbed the first research paper, taking a quick glance at
the clock. It was nine twenty. Scott and Jean are probably already halfway
to her parents by now, and the Professor is probably asleep on Muir Island.
~How is it that they managed to get all their grading done while I'm still
She began reading her first paper, about the Spanish American War, and the
world slowly began drifting behind her, blurring between the tiny print of
the paper. When Ororo looked up again, it was ten. This student had to be
an over achiever and write seventeen pages, full of blaring grammatical
errors, and of course Ororo had promised each student a comprehensive review
of each paper. ~I am an idiot.~ She managed to read through four more
papers and check thirteen semester exams before the tick tock of her clock
grew so loud that it was deafening. 1:55 it read. Ororo meticulously put
her pen down on her desk.
"I need a break."
Shoving her legs back, her chair slid two feet and she jumped up. It felt
so good to move her body after sitting still for so long. She jumped up and
down a few times to get her blood running, and then headed towards the
kitchen to get herself a coke. Finding none in the refrigerator, she took
the only other option besides water; some of Logan's beer. She gingerly
took a sip. It wasn't too bad, if you shut your eyes.
She decided to drink her beer in the rec room, and maybe see what was on TV.
Barefooted, she made her way into the rec room and silently sat herself
down on the couch. Grabbing the remote, she turned the TV on and soon its
soft blue light filled the room. Jane Eyre was on, and Ororo contented
herself by watching the gothic romance unfold as she drank her beer.
"What are you doing?" Involuntary, Storm jumped and spilled the little that
was left of her beer all over her lap.
"Oh shit. I really liked these pants and now they smell like, well, you."
Logan gave her a funny half smile and slid into the seat next to her,
thrusting a few Kleenexes into her hands. "Here. Looks like you need them
more than me."
Ororo took them and began dabbing at her pants in a vein attempt to clean it
up. "You know, Logan, you could really give me a little more warning before
you sneak up on me."
"How much more do you need? I made plenty of noise walking up here, but you
were just too involved in your girly movie to notice."
"Well, pardon me for not having your hearing or Jean's telepathic
There was a silence as Storm scrubbed at her pants. Logan looked around the
room and then down at her. She could fell his eyes wandering the entire
time, and she couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking.
"Why do you always mention Jean whenever I try and talk with you?"
"You always mention something about Jean whenever I try and hold a
conversation with you. It's like I'm saying 'How's the weather, 'Ro?' and
you say, 'Well, go ask Jean about it.'"
Ororo got a little angered over this accusation. It was absurd. "That's
absurd. Me, the one to always mention Jean? I'm not the one who's in love
with her. I think you're just a little preoccupied with her, and trying to
blame your obsession on me, because you know you'll never be able to have
"Where the hell do you get off telling my about my obsession? You don't
know the first thing.God, you're impossible to talk to. You think you're so
high and mighty. Well, maybe you are, Goddess, but that still doesn't give
you the right to be a bitch about it."
"And where the hell do you get off calling me a bitch? Goddess, Logan, is
that what you really think of me, that I'm a stuck up bitch? I've known you
for what, two years, and you're just telling me this now? I see our pseudo
friendship has meant so much to you, but of course, not as much as your
hypothetical relationship with Jean."
He turned to face her now, his eyes gleaming. "There you go, bringing her
up again. What the hell is your problem with that? I'm over Jean."
"Over Jean? Ha, you're pretty funny Logan. Over her. Like you could ever
get over someone as beautiful and perfect as her. No one could. But I
guess you're right Logan, I guess I am a bitch. Just a stupid bitch who
spends her time teaching and saving people and meddling with them later.
The least you could give me is a god damn thank you for that, you know? My
first memory is of saving you, and my second is of you trying to make out
with Jean. Thanks for noticing me, the person who saved your life while
Jean was at home watching 'Gone with the Wind'. That makes a person feel
Ororo threw down her beer can, which had gotten crumbled into a wrinkled
mass at some point in their conversation. She gathered the Kleenex and
stood up to go, when one of Logan's rough hands grabbed her shoulder.
"No, Ororo. You can't just walk away from this mad, like last time. We
gotta talk about it."
He stood face to face with her now. She took in a deep breath and
"All right, what do you think we should talk about, all knowing one?"
"OK, well, how come you always get so damn uptight whenever I mention Jean?"
Ororo stared him in the eye, her sapphire orbs meeting his muddy green.
"Well?" he inquired, when she still hadn't spoken an answer.
Goddess, he was standing so close to her. She could actually see the smooth
ripples in his shoulders, which where just below her eye level. Suddenly,
that little voice that had been screaming in the back of her head was gone,
it was replaced by something else. Something that just wanted to let it all
"Because I want you to notice me, dammit! Jean isn't the only woman here,
and even if she were, she doesn't love you like I." she stopped as his gaze
continued to burn into hers. "I mean, she doesn't love you, and I have,
well, I think that, of, damn it, why are you making me do this?" Her last
words were spoken with a tremble as her eyes suddenly to feel a bit water
ridden, all the while they remained locked in his gaze.
Ororo didn't really realize that the fiery sensation she was feeling on her
lips was a kiss, but when she did realize it, she treated it with the same
eager desire that Logan gave to her. His lips were surprisingly soft, and
they melted into Ororo's, like dipping strawberries in chocolate. That's
what it tasted like, too. It was sweet and sensitive, another surprising
thing coming form a man like Logan. Ororo's arms were lying dumb struck by
her sides as her brain still tried to process what was going on. The
memories suddenly flashed back to her. ~He's kissing you. He looked you
strait in the eyes, and his entire face changed, and then, and then, his
shoulder muscles were rippling so much.~
Logan pulled back from the kiss and looked a bit embarrassed. "Ororo, I'm
sorry, I shouldn't have done that. It's just that, well, believe me or not,
I don't love Jean anymore."
That was all Storm needed. Lunging forward to him, her slender arms wrapped
around his neck as their lips entangled in another kiss, this time it was
Logan who was caught off guard. She took this opportunity to be aggressive.
Pulling his neck closer to her, she opened her moth into his and traced
his lips with her tongue. A low, animal growl arose from inside Logan's
throat as he met her intensity. His tongue danced across her lips and then
into her mouth, where it began massaging and battling her tongue.
Ororo groaned deep in her throat at this, and ran one of her hands higher
and into his hair, where she began twisting the dark brown locks around her
fingers. They were so soft, like goose down, or what she imagined clouds
felt like. What she knew clouds felt like.
After a few minutes, he broke their kiss and let his lips travel down her
neck and onto her collarbone. His arms, now wrapped around her, began
searching her back. One crawled up, towards her hair, the other lower, onto
the small of her back. With his higher hand, he reached into her masses of
hair and untied her hair tie, letting the white wisps float down onto her
"You're so beautiful, 'Ro," he whispered to her, as his lips made trails on
her collarbone and then her shoulder.
Ororo tilted her head back and closed her eyes, focusing only on what she
was feeling, what he was making her feel. "Logan," she whispered huskily,
as she felt her inner muscles stirring as he nibbled behind her ear.
His tongue caressed behind her ear, slowly, ever so slowly, while he
intermittently nibbled at the little, perfect brown lobe. Storm could hear
thunder rumbling in the distance as she felt herself growing warmer and
"Logan, oh Goddess." She couldn't take anymore. She bent her head down and
sought out his lips with hers, and leaned full into him, throwing all the
weight she could against him. The two tumbled over the arm of the couch and
landed on the massive cushions, Ororo pinning him down. She broke the kiss
and looked down at him from her place as his hands ran through her hair.
She had a smile on her face, something that had been increasingly rare the
past couple of months.
She dove into his body, his body felt so right against hers. She kissed,
instead of his lips, his neck and shoulders, while one of her legs slid in
between his and brushed against his crotch. She could hear his carnal
groans when she did this, and she felt girlish and proud. She was making
him make that noise, making him whisper her name over and over. She slid
her two hands down the front of her shirt, all the while kissing and licking
his right ear.
Deftly, the two hands slid under the white shirt and began pushing it up.
His chest was so hard. She could feel the outlines of his muscles against
her soft hands, she could feel the soft hairs. She felt her hands rise and
fall with each of his breaths, felt them flutter as his heart beat. Logan
took his hands from her hair briefly, lifting them strait up as he smiled at
Ororo as she slid his shirt off. His chest was beautiful, as if made by
Michelangelo himself. Her lips worked down from his ear to a nipple. She
swirled her tongue around it, feeling the little peck harden. Gently, she
sucked at it, causing a deeper moan from Logan. Her trail of kisses moved
to the other nipple, and then down to his stomach, obviously intending on
Logan's hands reached down and cupped her face. He looked at her with
adoration. "Kiss me," he growled softly to her.
Leaning forward again, she kissed him, while his hands roamed around the
front of her shirt, fingering her breasts through the pale green fabric she
wore. His large fingers began carefully unbuttoning each button, careful
and precise as to not miss any and not rip the shirt. Her black lace bra
became visible and Logan growled appreciatively. One hand, gingerly as if
unsure, reached out and cupped the breast in his hand, and soon began
Storm's eyes closed as she felt an orgasm building up in her body.
"Oh God, Jean."