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Author: NWHS

Black Panther and Storm

A Munroe Christmas

New York

Part 1

"Come on Harriet, they'll be here any moment."

"Stop rushing me Walter," Harriet complained, fluffing the couch pillows for the hundredth time.

Walter Munroe pulled his wife to him. "Everything looks great dear. The house looks wonderful, the tree is beautiful, and dinner smells great."

Harriet smiled up at her husband of five decades. His hair was thinner and grayer, face decorated with fine age lines, but he was still the handsome, loving man she married so many years ago. The same man who gave her two wonderful children; the same man who stood against racial injustice; the same man who could bring a smile to her face with very little effort.

"I just want everything to be perfect for when they get here," Harriet said, looking around the modest home.

"It will be perfect because our Ororo will be here to share the holiday with us."

"But she's a queen now Walter. She's used to the finest things and people waiting on her hand and foot."

Walter smiled and pulled his nervous wife into his reassuring embrace. "She may be a queen Harriet, but she doesn't care about any of those things. She never had all those frills growing up and I doubt if she cares a twit about them now."


"Not buts dear. Ororo's not spoiled and you know it. Our home has always been fine for the Munroes and queen or not, our granddaughter is still a Munroe at heart."

Harriet nodded her head in agreement suddenly feeling quite silly at her behavior. "You're right Walter. I'm just a bit nervous. We missed so much of her life." Harriet paused, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "No child should've ever had to go through what she went through."

Walter settled his wife on the couch. He knew this had been bothering her ever since T'Challa tracked them down and reunited them with Ororo.

"We can't take back those horrible years no matter how much we would like to."

Walter too found himself pushing back tears. When their son David and his wife N'dare were killed, it was like a knife through the heart-sharp, painful, unforgiving. But when the authorities couldn't find Ororo in the rubble, it was as if someone dug the knife in deeper. And there it remained embedded in both of their hearts until a year ago.

Relief from the unbearable ache came in the most unexpected call from the king of a small African nation. After more than two decades King T'Challa was the one to pull the knife from their bleeding hearts and replace it with their long lost white haired, blue eyed granddaughter.

"I know, but she hasn't known the love of her family in so long. She missed out on so much and had to find her way in the world by herself," Harriet said, afraid to think about Ororo's time as a child in Cairo.

"She survived and that's the best we could hope for. She's done well for herself and looking at her no one would know what she's had to endure. That's the mark of a true Munroe," Walter soothed.

His voice was like a caressing touch and Harriet felt herself feeling better the more they talked.

"Now, don't you go getting all sentimental on me Harriet. This is supposed to be a happy time, our first Christmas with Ororo and her husband. And" he said with a devilish smile, "perhaps in the next year or two we'll have another Munroe to add to the family tree."

Harriet perked up at the thought of a pregnant Ororo, but just as quickly dismissed the idea. "They're too busy to think about making babies Walter. Young folk nowadays put it off, worrying about their careers and such."

"You never know Harriet. I put a special Christmas wish into a certain guy who likes your chocolate chip cookies and well, you never know."

Harriet laughed at her husband and said, "So, you bribed Santa with my cookies? I wondered where they all went."

They laughed again right before Walter pulled his wife into a tight embrace. "I just hope Ororo and T'Challa are as happy as we are fifty years from now. They have what it takes and if he loves her half as much as I love you, they will."

Part 2

"There's a big, black limo outside Grandpop," David said, peering out the living room window. "The king knows how to travel in style. I wanna be like him when I grow up. He's got major bling. And you know how the ladies love the bling."

Walter came up behind David and smacked him up side his head. "Boy, you only ten. What do you know about bling and ladies? Besides, there's more to T'Challa than being a wealthy king."

"What else could there be?" the boy asked incredulously.

"See that's the problem with your generation. You think it's all about money and cars. I told your grandmother not to let you watch so many of those music videos. That ain't real life son. You need to sit your narrow behind down sometimes and read The Autobiography of Malcolm X," Walter continued to lecture, having lost his grandson's attention as he raced to the front door to let the guests in.

"Ororo," the boy squealed, grabbing her around the waist.

"It's nice to see you too David," Ororo said, returning her young cousin's embrace.

"Hey T'Challa. That limo of yours is tight. Can you take me for a spin around the block? I told all my friends my cousin was Storm from the X-Men and her husband the King of Wakanda, but they didn't believe me. Can we go? Can we?" he said, trying to push them back out the door.

"David, leave them alone. They haven't even gotten in the door good yet and you're already hounding them," Walter's stern voice came.

When he reached the foyer, his voice softened while his smile brightened. Walter opened his arms and Ororo filled them. "I'm so glad the two of you could make it," he said, extending one hand to T'Challa while holding fiercely to Ororo with the other.

"We wouldn't miss it Walter. It's all Ororo's talked about for the last two months," T'Challa said, smiling at the way his wife clung to her grandfather.

Finding the Munroes had been T'Challa's top priority after Ororo agreed to be his wife. No matter how much of a family the X-Men had been to her and no matter how much she would be a member of his family, T'Challa knew there was nothing like your blood family to make you feel whole, complete. The Munroes completed Ororo and seeing her with them almost erased the image of her as the orphan he'd met so many years ago. This was truly the gift that kept on giving.

After hearing voices, Harriet Munroe ran out of the kitchen. "Well, the least someone could've done was let me know that our guests had arrived," she said with a click of her tongue. "Well, what are you waitin for Walter? You aren't the only one who would like a hug."

"Hello Grandmother, Ororo said, trapping Harriet in a bear hug of her own. "We've only just arrived. We haven't even unpacked the car yet."

"I'll go get our things," T'Challa said, turning to leave.

"Not before you give me a proper hello," Harriet interjected, pulling the Black Panther into a motherly embrace. "Just because you're a king, doesn't mean you're too old for a hug from an old woman."

T'Challa returned the hug and whispered, "There's nothing old about you Harriet," and kissed her cheek.

"Come David, you can help me with the bags and get a better look at the limo," T'Challa said, making the boy's day.

"So, if I help with the bags, will you take me for a spin?" David voice was heard before the door closed completely.

Part 3

Two hours later the family sat in the Munroe's living room after having enjoyed one of Harriet's world famous Christmas Eve dinners. They talked and laughed as if they had been doing this their entire lives. Ororo was surprised by how well she fit into a family she didn't know exist only twelve short months ago.

For years she had longed to know exactly where she'd come from, to have a connection to her parents beyond the fleeting memories of a child. And now she not only had a new family in T'Challa but a resurrected one in Kenya, her mother's ancestral home and in New York. Ororo had never been this happy in her life and as she watched both parts of her heart merge, tears formed and fell.

David, however, broke through her reverie the only way a child can.

"Will you make it snow Ororo?"

"David. You know better than to ask her to use her powers for your selfish whim," Harriet scolded.

"It's okay Grandmother. I don't mind. There's a snow front that's been over New England for the past couple of days. I'm sure they wouldn't mind a break."

"Yay. I gotta be the luckiest kid in New York," David said, jumping off of the couch. "Come on Ororo, let's go."

"Well, I gotta see this," Walter said, grabbing his coat and hat.

The family followed David and Ororo outside and to their surprise the entire neighborhood was out. David shrugged his little shoulders and said, "I may have called a friend or two."

Ororo looked at David. "I could do it from down here, but it's more fun to do it from up there," she said, pointing to the sky. "Would you like to go with me?"

"Up there?" he asked thrilled and frightened at the prospect. "Is it safe?"

Ororo couldn't help but smile at the boy who straightened his glasses and gathered his resolve as he took her hands in his. "You will be perfectly safe David. Trust me and let's give the gift of a white Christmas to your friends."

David smiled widely not having realized he was already hundreds of feet above the ground. He watched as Ororo's eyes turned from a majestic blue to an effervescent white. A minute later, delicate flakes started to emerge from the graying winter sky. They grew in size and intensity and as David looked upon his street, it was blanketed in the white fluffy stuff.

He looked one block in each direction and said, "You only made it snow on our block."

"Yes David. This was a present for you and your friends alone. Grandmother was right. Just because we may have the power to do something doesn't always mean we should. I have to always remember what I do can affect others. The same is true for you David."

"You sound like Grandpop."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Ororo said, starting her descent.

Once his feet reached the ground, David hugged Ororo tightly before running off to find his friends who were already in the throes of a major snowball fight. "Hey guys, I told you my cousin was Storm. How you like me now?" he said before a snowball whizzed by just missing him.

Part 4

"You know he's going to ask for snow every Christmas, don't you?" T'Challa said, climbing into bed next to his wife.

"You're probably right but I don't mind."

"He's a good kid. Perhaps he can visit during his summer break."

Ororo sat up in bed and gave her husband a questioning look. "You wouldn't mind having a ten year old running around the palace for almost two months?"

"As long as he doesn't try to sit on my throne," T'Challa said laughing. "Besides, it would be good practice."

Ororo arched her eyebrows suspiciously and said, "Good practice for what?"

"For when we have our own hyperactive ten year old."

"Well, I believe there are a lot of middle years we have to deal with before we get to the pre-pubescent stage."

"It's never too early to get a head start," T'Challa said, pulling Ororo back down to him. "But," he said, placing a light kiss on the side of her lips, "we're skipping a major step."

"We are?" Ororo asked softly as T'Challa settled over top of her.

"Yes, an important preliminary stage," he said, taking the soft, sweet kisses passionate. Between T'Challa's exploring tongue and hands Ororo forgot they weren't in their own bed chamber and that the Munroe's home was a lot smaller than the Wakandan royal palace.

Ororo wrapped her legs around T'Challa pulling him closer as she twined her hands in his hair, enjoying the feel of his hardened frame over hers. T'Challa slid his right hand under Ororo's nightgown and up her thigh and felt her tense.

"What's wrong beloved?" T'Challa asked voice thick with arousal.

"Did you hear that?" Ororo said, tensing even more.

"It's just Walter getting something from the kitchen. I heard him when he left the bedroom, walked down stairs, and into the kitchen. He's probably just thirsty," T'Challa said before leaning in to recapture his wife's mouth.

"I can't believe you heard all of that," she said, unknowingly denying him his kiss.

"Of course I heard him. The walls are paper thin." As soon as he said it, he wished he could take the sentence back and the look on Ororo's face confirmed it.

T'Challa shook his head, rolled off of Ororo and said regretfully, "So, no sex while we're here."

"I'm sorry," Ororo sighed. "The thought of my grandparents hearing us is. . . well, disturbing. I wouldn't be able to relax."

T'Challa turned on his side and whispered in her ear, "We could be as quiet as a church mouse."

"We tried that when you surprised me in San Francisco and Emma still takes great pleasure in reminding me that she could hear my thoughts without reading my mind."

"Oh yeah, I forgot," T'Challa said, rolling back over, disappointed.

"It'll only be a few days," Ororo tried to soothe.

"Damn, I didn't see this coming. And I have no contingency plan unless," he said, turning on his side again, "you'll let me book us a suite at the Ritz Carlton."

"Go to sleep T'Challa. We're not leaving just because you don't want to go without sex for a few days.

T'Challa suddenly pressed his body against Ororo's and kissed her relentlessly until she moaned repeatedly in pleasure. Pleased with himself, T'Challa grinned triumphantly and said, "Don't act as if I'm the only one who doesn't want to go without."

Body on fire with need Ororo said, "You have a wicked streak T'Challa."

"Well, I guess my Christmas gift will have to wait."

"Wakandans don't celebrate Christmas, your highness."

"I know, but don't you want to unwrap my present," he said seductively.

Ororo swallowed hard, eyeing her husband with unhidden lust. They both sighed knowing their little game could go no further.

They kissed good night and T'Challa said, "I have a Kwanzaa gift for you as well. The first principle is umoja, unity."

"That's not the type of union it refers to, you spoiled tease. Now go to sleep."

Author's Note: Just a little holiday silliness and fluff. Have a safe and peaceful Christmas, Kwanzaa, and New Year.