Logan parked the motorcycle in the garage and killed the engine. It was late, close to midnight, and he was reasonably sure Ororo would be in bed by now. That was the only reason he had come back...the fairly secure knowledge that he wouldn't have to face her.
At least not yet.
He sat on the bike for a moment longer, lighting his cigar and thinking. He wished now that he hadn't bought those flowers. It had seemed like a good idea last night, but in the light of day it felt awkward and, well...just plain stupid. After all, how did he know what Ororo thought of him? He had been acting on his instincts, like Jean had said...but what if his instincts were wrong? What if Ororo DID just like him as a friend, and he had just made a complete and total fool of himself?
He stood up and got off the motorcycle, dragging on his cigar as he mounted the steps to the house. The sound of laughter drifted up the hall toward him...it sounded like a bunch of the kids were still up. Light was shining from the door of the TV room, and he looked inside cautiously, praying that Ororo wasn't there.
She wasn't, but Rogue and her gaggle of friends were. They were all sitting around the card table behind the couch, talking excitedly over a large sheet of posterboard before them.
"Lemme see that red marker," Bobby said, reaching over Jubilee. They were decorating something, by the looks of it. Logan walked in and looked over their shoulders curiously.
Rogue glanced at him in surprise. "Oh, hi, Logan! Where ya been?"
"Out," he said shortly. "What are you guys doing up so late?"
Kitty sighed. "It's Friday night, Logan. Don't be so boring." She returned to her coloring, then looked over at what Bobby was doing. "What's that supposed to be?" she asked him.
Bobby looked up. "It's Elvis!"
"Elvis?" Logan quirked an eyebrow. "Isn't he a little before your time?"
"It's for our dance," Rogue said. "All dances have a theme...ours is "Lost in the '50's."
Logan rolled his eyes and sat down on the couch, flicking the TV on with the remote. Behind him, Kitty continued, "And by the way, that doesn't look like Elvis, Bobby."
John snickered. "Nope. It looks more like a bug."
The kids erupted into laughter, and Logan tuned out the rest, preferring to flip through the channels instead. The dance...he'd forgotten about that, even though he had been sitting right there when Rogue and Kitty asked Ororo if she was still going to DJ for them. That had irritated him a little...the thought of everyone else dressed up, Jean and Scott included, dancing around and having a good time...and Ororo sitting by herself behind some fucking booth.
"Oh, Logan!" Rogue called suddenly. "Ah almost forgot! Professor Xavier wanted to see you as soon as you came in."
"What for?" he growled.
"Ah don't know...he didn't say."
Logan grunted. "I'll see him tomorrow...he'd be asleep by now."
"No, I think he's still up," Bobby said, snatching a tube of glitter away from Kitty. "I walked past his office a little while ago, and the light was still on."
"Hey, gimme that!" Kitty shrieked. "I wasn't done with it!"
"You've been hogging the glitter ever since we started! It's my turn," Bobby said. "Elvis needs some sparkle."
"You mean your bug needs some sparkle," Jubilee snickered. They burst out laughing again, pushing, shoving, glitter flying everywhere...Logan growled again and got up from the couch. So much for peace and quiet...he decided to go see if Xavier was still up, and what he might want.
Rogue and her friends paid no attention to him as he left the room. The hall was dimly lit by a Victorian lamp on one of the side tables, and the yellow light gleamed dully on the oak paneling lining the walls. His footsteps whispered as he crossed oriental rugs, their rich colors muted in the faint light. Bobby was right...there was still a light coming from the crack under Xavier's office door.
He stopped before the door and lifted his hand to knock, but as usual Xavier's voice spoke to him from inside the office before he had a chance.
"Come in, Logan."
Logan grinned to himself and opened the door. Xavier was sitting behind his desk, several books and reports lying scattered on the surface before him. Grading papers, apparently...he looked up and smiled at Logan, gesturing toward one of the leather chairs in front of his desk.
"Please...have a seat."
"Don't mind if I do." Logan sat down, the leather creaking, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Rogue said you were looking for me."
"Indeed I was," Xavier replied. He picked up a manila folder from the desk and held it out to Logan. "This came today. I thought you might find it interesting."
Logan frowned slightly and took the folder from Xavier's hand. Balancing it on his lap, he opened it and saw a small black and white photograph clipped to a thick stack of papers.
"Who's this?" he asked, lifting the photo and examining it closely. It was a picture of a young woman from the shoulders up. Logan searched his memory...she was totally unfamiliar...pretty face, short hair...nice smile.
"Her name is Erin Robertson," Xavier said. He wheeled his chair from around the desk and moved beside Logan's chair. "Is the name familiar?"
"No." He flipped casually through the papers under the photo. "Project X: Restricted" was the heading on several of them...he turned his head slightly and cocked an eyebrow at the professor. "Should it be familiar?"
"Well, that depends," Xavier replied. "Dr. Erin Robertson was once affiliated with a research team in Canada, assisting in medical...studies...at the Alkali Lake Military Reserve."
Logan stiffened, staring at the folder of papers. "You still think I was at that compound?"
"I don't know." Xavier watched Logan for a moment, then shook his head. "I still believe it's an excellent starting point, though. Look at that first page...read what it says."
Logan set the photo aside and picked up the paper, scanning it quickly. "'Mutant experimentation...'" he read aloud. "'Research and developmental concerns...' so they were fucking around with mutants up there."
"Apparently so," said the professor. "If you read further, you'll find that something went wrong with their "research"...there are few details as to the exact nature, but the end result was the firing of dozens of employees involved with the project...including Dr. Robertson."
"How long ago was this?" Logan asked.
"Twenty years."
Logan scowled. "Well, that sort of cancels me out, doesn't it?" He stood up and tossed the folder back on Xavier's desk. "Thanks anyway, Chuck."
"Logan, wait." Xavier moved to block Logan from leaving. "Yes, it's true that Dr. Robertson was probably not involved with...what was done to you," he said. "But she may know something, and the fact that she was fired from an extremely important job like this may make her willing to share information with you."
Logan stopped, staring at Xavier and thinking. "Where'd you get that folder, anyway?" he asked, gesturing toward the desk.
"From a good friend of mine," Xavier said. "I have valuable connections in some government offices...some of them students of mine. Dr. Robertson's name came up in an old newspaper article I found when researching the compound for you, and I traced her back to the military archive in Toronto." He smiled. "One of my students is the assistant librarian at the archive."
Logan snorted laughter. "How convenient," he said. He picked up the folder again, feeling the heavy weight of it in his hand, and he studied Xavier for a long moment. "You really think this woman might know something?"
"I think you should investigate the possibility," the professor said.
Logan thought for a minute, then nodded. "It couldn't hurt," he mused. "Where's the broad now?"
"The folder states her last known address as Marquette, Michigan." Xavier powered his wheelchair back behind the desk, his voice thoughtful. "Of course, she may have moved since then, but that would be the best place to start."
"Michigan, huh?" Logan paused. "I'd be gone for a couple of weeks, then."
"Most probably," Xavier said. He cocked his head to the side and watched Logan carefully. "Does that trouble you?"
Logan wasn't troubled at all. A couple of weeks...hopefully that was enough time for his stupidity with the flowers to be forgotten. Maybe then he could actually look at Ororo without wanting to stab himself in the gut.
"No trouble at all," he said to Xavier. "I could use a little vacation."
Xavier smiled and nodded. "Yes...yes, I think you could."
Logan met the professor's eyes, seeing in them that Xavier already knew everything. He opened his mouth to say something...but there was nothing to say.
"I'm going to leave tonight," he said instead. "As soon as I pack a few things.You'll tell the others where I went?"
"Of course." Xavier came back around the desk and shook Logan's hand. "Be careful, Logan, as always."
"I will," Logan replied. He looked at Xavier a moment longer, then opened the door and left his office, pulling it closed behind him. The faint sound of laughter still filtered from the TV room, and Logan turned away from it, heading toward the elevator. Tonight...yes, he would leave tonight. It was easier that way...and he wouldn't have to see Ororo.
The elevator opened and closed with smooth ease, and soon it was humming its way to the upper floors. With a muted ding it stopped and the door retracted, and he stepped out into the upstairs hall. No lights here...everyone on this floor had long since gone to sleep. He walked softly through the darkness to his room at the end of the hall, stopping for a moment outside Ororo's door.
Was she sleeping? he wondered. He closed his eyes, allowing his hand to brush the surface of the door lightly. What was she wearing? Maybe flannel pajamas...he grinned a little in the darkness. Nah, not Ororo. That was a silk nightgown girl if he ever saw one. In his dreams she slept in silk, and she was beautiful when she reached for him, pulling him close...would she want him now, if he opened that door and went to her?
He sighed and let his hand fall, turning away and continuing down the hall to his room. He didn't know the answer to that question...probably never would. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the keys to his room...
And stopped dead in his tracks. He sniffed the air, then inhaled deeply. Vanilla...someone was sitting in one of the chairs at the end of the hall, right next to the door of his room. Vanilla and shampoo...his hands began to shake a little, and he reached out carefully and turned on the small lamp beside the chair, his breath catching in his throat.
Ororo was curled up in the chair, asleep. Her legs were pulled up close to her body, covered in her blue silk robe...her arms around them loosely, her head propped on the back of the chair. Logan watched her in careful silence, letting his eyes caress her where his hands could not.
She'd been waiting for him, he realized with a pang of guilt. Damn...he'd been hoping to avoid this, but he couldn't just leave her here. With a sigh, he leaned close and gently shook her shoulder.
"'Ro, darlin'," he said softly. "Wake up."
She jumped a little, startled, then those beautiful eyes opened and fixed on him, her lips parting in a soft smile. "Logan," she murmured, stretching slightly. "Where have you been?"
He gave her a rueful smile. "I was out," he said. "Had some business to take care of...shouldn't you be in bed?"
"I wanted to see you," she said, uncurling her legs from beneath her robe. "I've been looking for you all day, so I could thank you."
Logan swallowed hard, trying to tear his eyes away from Ororo's legs. Jesus...he didn't know what she had on under that robe, but her legs were completely bare...long and slender, creamy brown and so smooth he ached to touch them. Hurriedly he turned away and began fumbling his key into the lock of the door, hearing Ororo rise to her feet behind him.
"Logan? Is everything all right?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said hoarsely. Damn lock...he twisted the key viciously, and finally the door gave way before him and he was able to push it open, entering the room and putting some distance between himself and those incredible legs. Ororo didn't follow him in...she stood at the door watching him as he opened the closet and pulled down his duffel bag from the top shelf.
"Where are you going?" she asked softly.
"Michigan." He flung the bag on the bed and began opening dresser drawers, throwing clothes haphazardly on the bedspread. "Xavier found some more information for me, and I need to go to Michigan to check it out."
"Tonight?" Ororo looked around, then entered his room and sat on the bed, crossing her legs as she did so. Her robe fell open a little, exposing a white silk chemise and matching shorts. Logan watched her from the corner of his eye and grinned a little...it wasn't a silk nightgown, but it was close enough.
"How long will you be gone?" she asked him.
"Couple of weeks," he said, finishing his prowl through the drawers. He returned to the bed and began shoving clothes into the bag.
"That long?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah, maybe a little longer. Depends on how productive a trip this is." Damn...she actually sounded like she was going to miss him. Logan stuffed the last of the clothes in the bag, looked around, then went into the bathroom. He came back with his toothbrush and tossed that into the bag as well.
Ororo watched him in silence, then she stood up with a sigh. "Well, I can see you're busy, so I'll leave you to finish your packing." She pulled her robe more tightly around her. "I only wanted to thank you, anyway."
She was upset. Logan watched her turn to leave, hating himself for putting the dejection in her voice.
"I'm glad you liked them," he said gruffly.
She stopped and turned back, a slow smile spreading across her face. "So, it WAS you," she said. "You sent the flowers."
"Yeah." He lowered his head and scratched the back of his neck, flushing a little. "You didn't think it was a little...much?"
"Not at all." Ororo walked back to him, the silk of her robe whispering around her legs. "I thought it was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me." She reached up and touched the side of his face gently, her cool fingers brushing his skin. "You need to quit being so nice to me," she murmured, a soft smile in her eyes. "People are starting to talk."
He stiffened at her touch, wanting to pull away...knowing he should pull away, but powerless to do so."What do they say?" he whispered, catching her hand with his. She was startled, but then she moved closer to him, and a low, ragged growl rumbled in his chest.
"They say that something is going on between us," she said. Her body was pressed against his now...his eyes dropped involuntarily to the smooth curve of her breasts beneath the blue of her robe. "They say we're more than friends."
"And are we?" He tilted his head closer to hers, nostrils flaring as he inhaled her scent. Vanilla and lust...without thinking about it, he slipped one arm around her waist and pulled her even closer.
"I don't know," she whispered shakily. "You tell me."
He didn't answer. She was looking up at him, her brown eyes burning into his and her full lips parted slightly...before he knew what he was doing he had lowered his face to hers and pressed his lips against her mouth, kissing her desperately.She didn't resist... molding her body to his, her arms slipping around his neck, returning his kisses and allowing him to coax her mouth open. Their tongues met, hot and moist and delicious...he growled again, dropping his hands and pulling her robe open, sliding his fingers along the silk of her pajamas, lifting the chemise and touching her warm skin...
She moaned softly against his lips, shaking Logan back to reality. "I'm sorry," he murmured. He pulled away from her, his heart pounding. "I shouldn't have done that."
"I didn't stop you," Ororo said softly. "I don't want you to stop." She reached for him again, but he caught her hands and held them tightly.
"I have to," he said, unable to look at her, unable to hurt her more by the desire in his eyes. Dear God, he wanted her so bad...but he couldn't have her. He wouldn't allow himself to do this...
"Oh, Logan..."
He heard a stifled sob, and he looked up, startled. She was starting to cry...her hands pulling free of his, backing away from him.
"Oh God, 'Ro...don't cry, please," he said.
"It's me, isn't it?" she cried, tears spilling down her cheeks. "How could I have been so stupid?"
"It's not you, darlin'." Logan clenched his fists. "It's me...I don't want to hurt you."
"Hurt me?" She stared at him, incredulous. "Don't you think you're hurting me now?" She came back to him, breaking his heart with the pain in her eyes.
"I love you, Logan," she whispered.
It was the killing blow. Logan pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight. "Take it back, Ororo," he said hoarsely.
"I can't, Logan...it's true." She sobbed against his chest. "Even if you don't love me."
He closed his eyes against the pain in his chest. "I can't love you, 'Ro," he said softly, hating every word he spoke.
"Why?" she asked, her voice breaking.
"Because of what we are," he whispered. "You're a mutant, and I..."
She pushed away from him. "You're a mutant, too!" she cried.
He shook his head. "No, I'm not...not anymore." He dropped his arms and flicked his wrists, nine inch blades slicing through the skin. "Now I'm...something else."
Ororo said nothing, staring at him through a veil of tears. He looked at her for a moment longer, then picked up his bag without a word, his claws retracting with a smooth click.
"You're wrong, Logan," she said softly, then she turned and left his room, pulling her robe closed around her.
Logan had never hated himself more than he did at that moment. He turned off the light, picked up his keys and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Ororo was standing at her door, unlocking it, and she was obviously making a concentrated effort not to look at him.
He sighed, then went to the elevator across from her room and pressed the down button. There was a soft hum from behind the wall...he looked back at her, watching the tremble in her hands, knowing he had put it there.
"I'm leaving now, 'Ro," he said softly. "But I don't want to leave like this."
She turned to face him, her white hair framing her face in soft waves. Logan stood with slumped shoulders, watching her struggle with herself.
"I'm sorry, Logan," she murmured, brushing the tears away from her cheeks. "This was my fault...I just...I just want things to go back to the way they were." She met his eyes, her lips trembling. "Please."
He nodded, then forced a smile. "Just don't cry anymore, okay?" he asked. "You don't know what it does to me when you cry."
She tried to smile back at him, then she moved closer, touching his cheek again tenderly. "Stay safe, Logan." she said. "Come back to us."
"I will." The elevator slid open behind him, and he stepped on, holding the door. She stayed in the hall, watching him with a silent question in her eyes.
"What is it?" he asked softly.
"I just wanted to know..." She looked at the floor, her hands clasped before her like a child's. "If things had been different...if you weren't what you are...could you...?"
"What?"
"Could you have loved me?" she asked, meeting his eyes sadly.
"I already do," he said...and the elevator door closed, blocking out the sight of her beautiful, startled eyes.
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