Ororo closed her book with a sigh and reached for another in the stack beside her, being careful not to scatter her notes across the long table. She was in the vast library of the mansion, and for the past three weeks she had been meeting with Logan every afternoon to study literature and organize her lesson plans. She smiled softly to herself, for the past three weeks of classes had been trying but not impossible, and she had Logan to thank for it.
A movement beside her caught her attention, and she looked up to see Scott coming up to greet her. "Hey, Ororo...how's it going?" he asked with a grin.
"Very well, Scott, thank you. Where's Jean?"
He cocked his head toward the open door and pulled out the chair beside her to sit down. "She's in the medlab, updating some of the medical records. Where's your study buddy?"
Ororo smiled. "Logan? He's not here yet, but he should be along shortly." As if on cue, Logan's tall form appeared from around one of the bookshelves, a cigar parked in the corner of his mouth.
He glanced at Scott, and Ororo thought his expression darkened somewhat. "Scott," he growled in greeting.
"Logan," Scott returned amiably. He cocked a finger at Logan's cigar. "You know the professor would have a fit if he saw you smoking that in here."
Logan puffed, then took the cigar out of his mouth and blew a cloud of smoke in their direction. "Does it look like I give a shit?" he asked.
Scott grinned. "No, it doesn't." He stood up and squeezed Ororo's shoulder. "See you later, Storm. Don't let him choke you to death on the fumes."
"I'll try not to," she said with a soft laugh, and Scott nodded at Logan and left. She watched him go, then turned to Logan. "How long have you been here?"
"Couple of minutes. Why?"
"I just didn't see you come in, that's all."
He laughed shortly. "Well, I can be quiet when I want to be, you know. Besides," he added, taking another long drag on his cigar. "You were engrossed in a book when I came in anyway."
"Mm-hmm." She picked up the slim volume she had been reading earlier and showed him the title on the spine. "'The Waste Lands,' by T.S. Eliot. I just finished it. Rather interesting, in a surrealistic way."
"Damned weird, if I remember it right."
She laughed, and Logan examined the tip of his cigar, appearing to suppress a grin. Then he glanced around the room with a scowl.
"Its stuffy in here. I don't think I can stand an entire afternoon in this cave."
She sniffed primly. "Well, it wouldn't be so stuffy if you didn't insist on smoking that cigar."
He glared at her, but she only smiled in return, knowing that he wasn't really angry. The past three weeks of working in such close quarters with Logan had taught her to read his moods well. She watched as he stood up and moved his head from side to side, cracking the vertebrae in his neck.
He looked at her intently and popped the cigar back in his mouth. "So, want to go outside and do this shit?"
"That would be lovely, Logan," she replied with a smile, and stood to begin gathering her books.
* * * * *
The weather outside was beautiful, and as they walked across the lawn toward the quiet of the apple orchards on the other side of the mansion, Ororo tilted her head back and breathed deep. Summer was fast approaching, and everywhere the scents of growing things filled her senses. Even Logan seemed to notice it; he had shrugged out of his denim jacket after a few steps, and had even offered to carry some of Ororo's books. She laughed inwardly as she handed half of them off to him, and he had insisted on taking all of them. Would wonders never cease.
They reached the top of the low rise that sheltered the trees, and Logan dropped the books on the ground and flopped onto the grass beside them. He rolled over on his back and clasped his hands behind his head with a groan of satisfaction. "Oh, yeah, this is better."
Ororo arranged the long, flowing skirt of the white sundress she was wearing, then seated herself gracefully beside him. "Much better," she agreed. "And if you want to smoke out here, it won't bother anyone."
He shook his head and closed his eyes. "Nah, I ain't got another cigar on me right now." He paused a moment, then rolled to his side facing her and propped his head on his hand. "So, what are we studying today?"
She pulled a book from the top of the stack. "To start with, how about Shakespeare's 'The Tempest?'"
"Ugh." He groaned and covered his face with his free hand. "I guess if we have to."
She laughed and opened the book to the first page, while Logan sat up and moved closer so he could see as well. "So, what is it you have to teach them first?" he asked.
"The first objective, according to Xavier's notes, is to help them understand the significance of the character of Prospero," she replied.
"I don't suppose Chuck told you what that significance was in those notes he gave you?"
"Unfortunately, no." She laughed aloud. "Of course, that's where you come in, Professor Logan."
"Professor, my ass," he growled, reaching for the book. "Lemme see that for a minute. I want to refresh my memory."
"Certainly." She relinquished the book to him and then sat quietly, her hands in her lap while he flipped through the book, scanning the text. It was silent for awhile, broken only by his occasional grunts as he came across a passage he found interesting, and Ororo found herself watching him as he read.
He seemed oblivious to her, which was just as well, for Ororo would have died of embarrassment if Logan caught her staring, but...she couldn't help it. Over the past few weeks she had found herself becoming aware of Logan in a different way, and she wasn't entirely sure what it was. Slowly she had come to realize that she was eagerly anticipating their meetings together, and sometimes she surprised herself looking appreciatively at his muscular body. Like right now, she thought, blushing a little. He was sitting beside her, hunched over slightly while reading, and she let her eyes roam over the hard muscles of his chest beneath his flannel shirt. She'd seen those muscles in action during their fight with Magneto, and she could well remember the poetry of his movements...tight. Efficient.
Lethal.
Then there were his eyes. Dark brown eyes, which could be hard as steel when he was angry or irritated, but then soft and sparkling when he was pleased with her grasp of some literary concept. His voice was a lesson in contradictions as well...harsh and growling, or soft, deep, and warm, depending on his mercurial moods.
"What?"
Ororo blinked at the sound of his rough question, then blushed furiously beneath her brown skin. He had looked up and caught her looking at him, and now he stared at her with a cocked eyebrow and a quizzical expression on his face.
"I...I..." She gulped unsteadily, unsure herself why she had been staring at him. "I...was just waiting for you to finish reading."
He grunted in reply and bent his head to keep reading, when a sudden breeze blew past them, rushing through the branches over their heads and sending a shower of apple blossoms down on them. He looked up and grinned at her as the flowers fell. "You didn't do that, did you?"
She looked up at the apple trees and smiled. "No, I'm innocent of that one." Then she looked at him and saw that a few of the blossoms had fallen on his head. "Here, let me get those," she said, moving closer to him on impulse. "You have flowers in your hair."
He didn't respond, and she leaned close and gently removed the flowers. This close to him, she could smell spicy cologne, mixed with the fragrance of his cigar tobacco. His hair was soft, and as her fingertips grazed it she felt a strange zinging sensation course through her body, something she had never felt before that both frightened and excited her at the same time.
Am I attracted to him? she thought. Is that it? But...I can't be. Not to Logan!
Her hand trembled slightly as she sat back on her heels. "There," she said. "I brushed them out."
He pointed at her head. "You've got some in your hair, too."
"Oh." She lifted her hands to try and remove the flowers, but Logan caught both of her wrists before she could.
"No, leave them there," he said softly.
"But I must look like a mess!"
"No, you don't." He dropped his hold on her arms, then sat back, looking at her with a strange and unreadable expression in his eyes. "You don't look a mess at all. You look...beautiful."
A long beat of silence passed between them, then Logan cleared his throat and stood up. "I'll be back in a minute," he said gruffly. "Need to get my smokes."
"Okay," she replied, keeping her gaze averted to the book he had dropped as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Logan brushed off his jeans and started for the mansion, his long legs taking him down the hill and out of sight. She watched him go, an ache beginning to form in her stomach.
He had called her beautiful. She knew it probably meant nothing to him...after all, he called Jean gorgeous every chance he got, especially if Scott was in earshot. But no one had ever called Ororo beautiful before. And when Logan had said it, she had felt a sudden rush within her, and she suddenly realized what it was.
In less than a month, the unthinkable had happened.
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