Ororo Muttered to herself as one eyelid slowly creaked open

A Bra on the Ceiling

DISCLAIMER:  Must I really go over this again?  Ok, let's try it this way.  Raise your hand if you think I own the X-Men or will make any money off of this.  Ok, now please observe that all those with their hands raised are dumbasses.  Thank you for your time.

I just kind of hammered this out, because I fell that I'm not writing enough.  Forgiveness, please.




Ororo Muttered to herself as one eyelid slowly creaked open.  Sunlight poured into her attic bedroom, making everything look too cheery for Ororo's taste.  After last night, or what she could remember, she didn't really care if the sun never shown again, as long as she could be somewhere dark and quite. 


Using all of her will power, she managed to open both of her eyes, and started at the white plaster ceiling.  Her bra was up there.  "By the Goddess…" Staples, running up and down the straps, and two in the middle of each cup.  I guess during the course of last night, I…I…stapled my bra to the ceiling.  She quickly reached her hand beneath the sheet to confirm her suspicions.  And Goddess knows what I did with my panties.

 Ororo sighed and pulled the covers up to her chin, cocooning herself in the warmth. She didn't want to get up today.  She just wanted to lie very, very still and try to avoid the head-splitting headache she knew she'd be getting any moment, thanks to all the drinking she'd been doing last night.  Her eyes drifted closed once more, as she prepared herself to dink into sleep once more.  That's when she heard the noise.


It was a combination of a snore and a cough, and Ororo knew that it definitely hadn't come from her.  It had come from right next to her, actually.  A hand lazily reached over to Ororo and draped itself across her.

Oh shit.  What did I do last night?


"Ororo, you have to some out with us!  It's the first day of summer break!  You know what that means, no more classes to teach, no more homework to grade, nothing but dancing and booze!" Rogue exclaimed, plopping down onto the couch next to Storm, sticking a hand into the fresh bowl of popcorn that had been sitting on her lap.  Ororo sighed. 

"I'd love to come, Rogue, but you know it's the Summer Solstice tonight, and I would really rather prefer some calm meditations tonight, followed by some dancing-" she eyed her friend warily, "alcohol-free dancing."                                                                    "Alcohol-free dancing?  I didn't even know that kind of shit had been invented!" 

"Very amusing, Rogue.  But I believe my answer is no." 

Rogue cocked her head.  This was a battle she was not going to lose.  "Oh.  Well, I guess I understand." 

Ororo turned her head, her platinum hair cascading off her shoulders.  "You do?" 

"Umm, yeah.  I mean, if I didn't know how to dance, I guess I wouldn't really want to go clubbing, either." 

"I know how to dance." 

"Oh, of course you do, sugah, just not our kind of dancing.  Sure, it's easy to flail your arms up and down and jump around naked, but it takes a certain…skill to dance like, let's say, I do." 

Ororo's back stiffened as her pride began to kick in.  "I do know how to dance your style, Rogue.  I'd just prefer to spend the evening at home." 

"Which I understand, because, from what Bobby tells us about the last time you guys went out, I'd stay home too." 

"What did he say about me?"

 Rogue bit her lip, but an answer came soon enough.  "Just that it looked like the Goddess was having seizures, but it's no big deal, Storm.  You just stay home, have yourself another big bowl of popped corn, and I'll tell'em all that you can't…don't feel like dancing tonight." 

"No need, Rogue.  I've changed my mind.  I believe I'll be joining you this evening."

            A catlike smile crept across Rogue's face.  I guess it paid off to have Mystique as a mom after all.

The low, synthesized music permeated the room as hordes of people began lifelessly swaying to the monotonous beat.  And this beats dancing naked how, Ororo thought to herself as she slid into a nearby bar stool, eying the crowd as it moved around her.  There were Remy and Rogue, swaying seductively close to each other.  As the music reached a slower rhythm, the two got even closer to one another.  Goddess, if I knew that she liked things that clingy, I would have let her have a spandex uniform. 

 Scott and Jean, going out on their second official date, were huddled close together at a small table.  Jean let out a tinkling giggle as she threw her hair back and laughed at probably what was just another one of Scott's boring and arcane jokes.  Still, Ororo sighed to herself as she swiveled in her stool to face the bar, I wouldn't mind having a man tell me bad jokes all night.  Goddess, I wouldn't mind having a man who couldn't even string together grammatical phrases.   

The bartender leaned over and gave her a fresh glass of… "What is this?" Storm asked, picking up her small glass and swirling the liquid around a few times. 

"Well, I saw you looking a bit sad, and staring at all them male friends of yours, so I figured you could use a little something stronger."  He reached below the bar and pulled out a long, glass bottle.  "Troyshka Vodka.  My personal favorite.  Hopefully, it'll be one of yours, soon."  The bartender let out a wink as he moved further down to serve more customers. 

Oh Goddess, I must look really pathetic to be offered so much alcohol.  Well, I guess maybe I am pathetic.  She drummed her fingers impatiently on the counter a few times as she stared at the shot glass.  To drink or not to drink.  What the hell, pathetic people deserve to get drunk once in a while. Screw all of you, Remy, Logan, Scott; this woman needs no man.   

She threw back the shot and smiled as she felt a nice, oozy feeling make it's way through her body.  This woman only needs Jack Adams…wait, I think I got that wrong…wooo, look at that, I never noticed how the floor was a chair.    

"You know, chere, you be quite the dancer," Remy remarked as he and Rogue continued to grind to the music.  Rogue let out a sly grin as she swiveled her hips a little bit more.                                                                                                                       "You're not too bad yourself, sugah," she replied, carefully throwing an arm around his shoulder.                                                                                                                                   "Step aside, Skunk girl, let me show you the happy naked pagan dance," a slightly slurred voice called out from behind her.  Rogue tilted her head to see Storm standing close behind her, looking a bit…not drunk, just a little bit more loose than normal.  She carelessly stumbled over to them and ran into Remy.                                                  "Watch it dere, Stormy.  You gonna take someone out, trying to walk in those heels."                                                                                                                                      "Mind if I cut in, R-r-r-ouge?  Oops, I mean Rogue.  Hey, I'd never noticed that before," Ororo said, as she clumsily placed Remy's arms around hers.                                      "Uh, sure, you go on ahead."                                                                "Thanks," Strom whispered as pushed Remy and herself further onto the dance floor.  The crowd swallowed them up, and soon they were lost in a sea of body parts, all moving to the same, unyielding rhythm.                                                                            "So you like to dance, Stormy?  Gambit admit, he be a bit curious to see the naked pagan dance," he spoke into her ear as she let her body sway and move to the music like it was water all around her.                                                                                 "Why didn't you say anything about it earlier, then, sailor?" she asked, leaning into him, moving her hands from his shoulder up to his neck.  She buried her face into the side of his neck and let out a small breath that set Remy's nerves on end.  Remy's arms almost instinctively wrapped themselves around Ororo tighter, as he inhaled the slight lemongrass perfume that she wore.  "Because you really out to know," she whispered against him, her lips moving in sweet agony against his sensitive skin, "this happy pagan hates to dance alone."

Oh, Goddess, I slept with REMY?!?  Wait a minute…

"Stormy, I think maybe you had a little too much to drink.  P'raps we do this another time, non?  When you have your head about you," Remy managed to sputter out as he plucked her arms from him, despite the pleasing sensations they were giving him.

"But Remy, I want you now.  I want you to come over here and kiss me and then tell me why the hell the floor keeps trying to jump around on me."  Remy gave a halfhearted smile as his suspicions were confirmed.  Storm had been coming onto him because she was a bit drunk. 

"All right, Stormy, Remy'll explain that all to you, so why don't you just sit down there at that table and wait for me, oui?" 

"Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, and, and, I think I'm supposed to say that you shouldn't call me that.  Yeah, that really pisses me off.  Actually, you really piss me off, you mother fu…oh, hey Logan, how ya doing?" 

Remy rolled his eyes.  Once the Goddess got going, she was never gonna stop. 

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Stormy, I think I'll just go to the men's room and take care of a little business."  As he walked past Logan, he whispered slightly under his breath that Storm was drunk, relying on Logan's hearing to pick up on it.

"So, Logan, having fun?" storm asked him as she followed him around the crowded dance floor. 

"What?" he yelled in response, looking back at her as if he had just noticed her for the first time.  "Hold on a sec, darlin', let me take out my ear plugs.  Damn clubs are so loud they make my hearing go crazy."  He reached his hands up to his ears and pulled out two, minute pieces of quark.  "Now, what didja say?" 

"I asked if you were havi…if you ever get lonely at night," Ororo said, as her tone changed from loud to seductive. 

"What do ya mean by that, Ro?" 

"I was just wondering if you ever felt the same as I do…alone at night, thinking about that someone who is always just so far out of your reach that you can never quite have…" she trailed off as her finger made its own trail up his jaw line.

 Logan looked at the beautiful woman before him, and he was downright perplexed.  Was it just him, or was she coming onto him?  "Ro, are ya feeling alight," he asked, as she moved her body closer to his. 

"Yes," she murmured, her face getting closer to his, "for once in my life, I'm feeling perfect." 

Logan wanted to walk into the nearest department store and personally shake the hand of the Mary Kay saleslady who had sold Ororo her lipstick, because it felt like pure heaven against him.  Their lips had met and were now exploring each other with earnest passion, as Ororo's arms, like with Remy, sought refuge around his neck.  Logan's strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist as they deepened their kiss.  Ororo felt like she was on fire.  It might have been the alcohol that was coursing through her system, but she thought she knew what it was.  It was this power that she had never experienced before.  The power to do whatever, and whomever she pleased.  She felt like she could do anything she wanted anywhere, that nothing could stop her. 

With her mind thinking along those lines, she made the kiss more passionate, more lusty, as her hands now grabbed for anything she could get a hold of.  Logan, startled by this sudden outburst, was taken back and slightly stumbled backwards, and Ororo, refusing to let go of him, stumbled with him.  Desperately trying to not fall over, Logan kept moving backwards, torn between wanting to keep kissing Ororo and making sure that he wouldn't fall on his ass and smash a few innocent people. 

Finally, his back hit something solid, and he could concentrate on the other task instead.  Ororo laughed to herself as she felt him begin to kiss her back once again.  He thought he was going to get in control. 

Nuh-uh-uh, not when I've just discovered this power. 

Using all of her strength, she pushed him back, so he was now flat on his back on what had turned out to be a table.  "Now let's see who'll dominate who, Logan," she growled as she prepared herself to rip his shirt off.

Goddess, LOGAN'S the one I slept with? Noo…it can't be…

  "Umm, do you guys want to join us or something," Scott asked, looking up at the two, embarrassed for them.  "I'm sure there's room enough at our table for all of us." 

Storm quickly got off Logan and looked around.  Logan lay on Jean and Scott's table.  "Actually," Ororo said, brushing back a strand of white hair and trying to catch her breath, "I wouldn't mind sitting down and ordering a few drinks.  See ya around, Logan," she said in a flippant tone as she slid into the both next to Scott. 

Logan, composing himself, stopped in mid-breath and stared at Ororo.  "What did you say?"  he asked, not comprehending what she had just said.  Hadn't we just been…weren't we going to…doesn't she know that I… 

"I said, Mr. Back-Hair, I'll see you when I see you.  Now, why don't you go whiddle or do whatever you lumberjacks do.  Tata." 

Logan was speechless.  There was only one word he could think of.  "Bitch."  With that, he turned, and headed in the direction of the men's room.  He tired to console himself.  Well, I already dropped one piece of shit, might as well drop another.

Ororo turned her attention to Scott and Jean, who tried not to look at her oddly. "So, what's been up between you two lovebirds, besides the obvious…goddess, I'm hilarious."  Ororo found herself in a fit of giggles as she congratulated herself about her well-made joke about Scott's dick.  Jean stiffened a giggle herself, while Scott's lips pursed together in a tight line. 

"Ororo, have you had anything to drink tonight," he asked her, slowly moving his half drunken beer to the far side of the table, away from her grasp. 

"Maybe a little, but who cares.  We all deserve to let loose everyone now and then, don't we?"


"Oh, Scott, come on, let Storm have a good time.  I haven't seen her this happy in ages." 

"Thank you, Jean, thank you.  I'll drink to that." 

Scott sighed to himself as he sank back against the booth.  He had wanted to spend a little time alone with Jean tonight, so maybe he could hope to, well, so maybe I could give her a little kiss.

 "So, Jean, has Scott given you a little fuck yet?"  Scott shot forward as his cheeks became the color of his sunglasses. 

"What?" they both asked in unison. 

"Well, you know, I was just wondering if Scott had fucked you yet, because, well, you know how everyone always calls Scott a dick-" Scott's face took on a look of surprise.  "Oh, come on, it's not like you didn't know that, Mr. Dick. So, anyway, since everyone always called Scott a dick, it got me wondering about his real dick, so I just thought that-"

"That's enough of that, Storm.  I think maybe you should call it a night." 

"Only with you, big boy," she said, reaching down, trying to get a feel for his…

"DAMMIT!" Scott yelled as he jumped up, banging the table with his knee, knocking Jean's beer into his lap. 

"Goddess, sorry Scott, didn't know you were so insecure about it." 

"That's it.  Ororo, leave us alone.  Jean and I don't want to talk to you right now." 

"Excuse me?  Scott, did I say that I didn't want to talk to Ororo?  Because I don't recall ever saying that." 

"Jean, look at her," Scott said quite loudly, as if Storm wasn't even there, "she's drunk.  We shouldn't be around her right now." 

" 'We'?  Who's this 'we' I keep hearing about?  There might have been a we, but I don't think so anymore.  If I did have a 'we', it wouldn't tell me when to be friends with someone." 

"I…I…" Scott's face, which looked as if it couldn't have assumed any more emotions, now looked flustered. 

"You're what," Jean asked him, raising a critical eyebrow, "going to say something that I'd actually care about?" 

"I'm going to the bathroom to clean myself up.  Good night, to the both of you." 

Scott pushed past Jean as he slid out of the booth and made his way to the bathroom, leaving Storm and Jean to watch his wet pants wiggle and sag as he walked away.

 Scott angrily threw open the door to the bathroom and marched in.  He saw Remy, standing by the mirror and carefully checking his appearance. 

"Hello Remy." 

"Oh, hey Scott. You had an accident or something, mon ami?" he asked, motioning down to Scott's pants. 

"It wasn't an accident.  It was a storm." 

"Ah, Remy can understand that." 

"Hey, who's in the stall?" 

"That'd be me, bub." 

"Hello Logan." 

"Fuck off, I'm trying to take a shit."

 " 'Fuck off, I'm trying to take a shit,' " Scott mimicked under his breath as he grabbed a few paper towels.   He did his best to clean up the mess, dabbing the brown excuses for towels at the beer, but to no avail.  Scott let loose a sigh, this time an angry one, as he glimpsed up at his reflection in the dirtied, yellow mirror.  I'm going to make that Ororo Munroe pay…a small smile crept across his face.  And I know just how that dick is going to get her.

"I slept with SCOTT?" Ororo screamed as she sat upright in her bed.  Oh, Goddess, Goddess, Goddess, no, no, no.  And I though having my bra stapled to the ceiling was bad…remembering her bra, Ororo took a quick glance at the ceiling.  Yep, it was still there, black lace, tag and all.  In fact, there was something written on the tag…Ororo squinted her eyes, trying to make out the writing. 

"I hope you didn't like this bra.  Love, The Dick." 

"Wait a minute…if all Scott did was steal my bra…then who's in my bed." 

"God, Ororo, turn the lights off or something."


The End…or is it?  Actually, I think it is.