Logan flopped on the couch in the mansion's living room, propping his feet on the coffee table before him. Using the remote to turn on the T.V., he leaned back and laced his fingers together behind his head. It was after supper, and most of the kids were studying, although he could hear Rogue and Bobby at the foosball table behind him, laughing and knocking the ball back and forth. Even in his bad mood, it was somehow comforting to hear Rogue's laughter...she had become the daughter he never had.
He thought about this, and then scowled angrily. At least, he didn't think he had a daughter...but, hell. With his memory, who knew?
"Hello, Logan," a soft voice said, and he looked up to see Jean coming into the room. He relaxed immediately...he liked Jean, and her presence was always soothing.
"May I sit down?" she asked with a smile.
"Sure, its a free country," he replied, and he slid over on the couch to make room for her. She sat and looked at the television.
"What are you watching?"
"I dunno. I wasn't really paying attention." He glared at the screen for a second, then glanced over at her, surprised to see she was staring at him, a look of concern on her face.
He cocked an eyebrow. "What is it?"
She sighed and rested her head on the back of the couch, never taking her eyes off him.
"What's troubling you, Logan?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Nothing. Why?"
She shrugged. "I am telepathic, you know."
"Hrmph."
"I also know my friends. Something is bothering you, and it has been for some time."
He stared at the screen. "Why don't you just poke around in my head and find out?"
"Logan, you know I would never do that, and neither would the professor." She reached over and squeezed his hand. "But both of us have sensed something on your mind, and we were concerned." She released him, then sighed. "We were worried that...you know..."
"What?" he asked gruffly.
"That you were planning on leaving again."
He snorted. "Is that all? Nah, you don't have to worry about that. I'm not leaving." Then he grinned and winked at her. "Not unless you want to run away with me."
She blushed and grinned back. "Logan," she said warningly.
He laughed, his foul mood temporarily brightened. "Hell, I gotta try, Jeannie, but I'll admit its not half as much fun without One-Eye to hear it."
She shook her head, still smiling. "You're incorrigible."
"That I am, Red."
She waited a moment, then spoke again. "So, if that's not it, what is bothering you?"
He seemed to think about it for a minute, then he shook his head. "Nothing. I've just got alot on my mind."
"Like what?"
He shrugged, and she smiled again. "Rather not talk about it?"
"Not right now," he said. "Its nothing, really. Just...thinking too much, I guess."
She nodded. "Well, if you ever need to talk..."
"I know," he interrupted, the corner of his mouth quirking. "I know where to find you."
She smiled and dipped her head, turning her eyes back to the television screen. Logan leaned back and fixed his eyes there as well, but he wasn't really watching. He was thinking about something else.
Ororo, and the way she had looked that afternoon, kneeling on the green grass with flowers in her hair.
His lips tightened and he cursed himself inwardly. What was with him lately? It had started about a week ago, when he had awakened from a rather erotic dream in the middle of the night. Not that dreams of that sort were uncommon for him...hell, every woman he had ever encountered had traipsed through his nightly fantasies at one time or another. Until recently, his favorite ones were those that featured Jean.
But never, not until a week ago, had he dreamed of Storm.
It bothered him a little. He had never thought of Ororo in that way, and he wasn't used to his mind making those decisions for him. Ororo had become a good friend over the past three weeks, and he was the first to admit that making friends wasn't exactly his strong suit. He had come to know her pretty well during their study sessions, and he found that his initial impression of her had been wrong. She wasn't cold and stuck-up.
She was shy.
After some thought, he had pushed the dream to the back of his mind, the details becoming fuzzy already. It wasn't uncommon for a man to have a sexual dream about a friend...hell, Jeannie was a friend and he had dreams about her all the time. He had decided not to worry about it, and the dream was forgotten by the time he went to breakfast.
Until, of course, he saw her again. He had met her for their afternoon study time as usual, and suddenly found himself looking at her...really looking at her, in a way he never had before. Maybe it was the foggy memory of the dream, or maybe it was just...shit, who knew what it was? He found he couldn't tear his eyes away from her, though. Things she did suddenly became fascinating.
Little things...like her hair sweeping gently over her shoulder as she leaned forward, listening to his tutoring. The way her eyes, like the softest brown velvet, widened a little when she suddenly understood some concept he had been trying to explain. Her eyes were stunning, and he was amazed that he had never noticed them before. They were the color of rich chocolate, framed by long black lashes and delicately arched brows.
Jean startled him from his reverie when she stood up quickly. "Well, I need to go see if Scott is ready to go into town."
"Why?"
"We're going to a movie." She paused. "Would you like to come?"
He looked at her, incredulous. "You've got to be fucking kidding."
She laughed, then came over and planted a light kiss on his cheek. "I didn't think so. Have a good night, Logan."
He grunted. "You, too." He watched her leave, then turned his attention back to the television. "Jeopardy" was on, and Alex Trebek was announcing the categories. "Renaissance Poets" was one of them, and Logan decided against turning the channel, at least for the moment. It was still a source of amazement for him that he could remember all this shit...why was it he could recollect the author of "Look Homeward, Angel," yet he couldn't remember a damn thing about his life beyond the last fifteen years? Life was such a friggin' bitch.
"I'll take Renaissance Poets for two hundred, Alex." Logan returned his attention to the gameshow, sneering at the pretentious way Alex Trebek read the question.
"The author of "The Faerie Queene," written for Elizabeth I."
"Who is Sir Phillip Sidney," Logan muttered. Then he jumped, startled, realizing a soft feminine voice had given the same answer at the same time he had. He turned to see Ororo standing in the door, her hand on the frame and a smile on her face.
"Damn. Seems you learned some of that shit after all," he said, and Ororo laughed and walked into the room. She was wearing silk pants and a matching top of pale lavender, and over it she wore her customary long, flowing robe of the same material. Her long hair was pulled away from her face into a ponytail at the nape of her neck.
"I've had a great teacher," she replied, coming to sit beside him in the spot recently vacated by Jean. "Are you in here alone?"
He craned his neck to look behind him at the foosball table, noting that Rogue and Bobby were gone. "I guess," he said. "Jean was in here a minute ago, but she and Scott are going out tonight."
"Mmm." She curled her legs up under her and sighed. "I haven't been into the city in ages. Everyone is always so busy...and I hate going alone."
"There isn't anything there to get excited about anyway," he said. He was watching her out of the corner of his eye, feeling a strange pang when she frowned at his words.
"Yes there is," she said. "'Ye Olde Ice Cream Shoppe.'"
He snorted laughter. "What?!"
She laughed with him. "No, seriously, that's its name. Its a homemade ice cream shop in the downtown. They have the best ice cream in the world."
He glanced sideways at her. "I didn't peg you for an ice cream kinda gal, Storm."
"Well, I'm just full of surprises, aren't I?" she asked. "I love ice cream...its my secret vice."
He sat up and clasped his hands between his knees, looking at her with a sudden idea, one that surprised even him. "Ice cream, huh?" He stood and nodded his head toward her. "You might want to put on a jacket or something. Its still a little cold outside at night."
She looked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"Well, its not like I have anything better to do." He grinned. "How about some ice cream?"
A strange look came over her face. "Are you serious?"
"Yep." He extended a hand toward her, yet still she hesitated. "C'mon..." he said with a rakish grin. "My treat."
She paused a moment more, then smiled and took his hand as he helped her to a standing position. Logan found he liked the feel of her hand in his, the touch of her fingers soft and warm against his rough ones.
"You might want to change into jeans, too," he said. "Then meet me in the garage."
"Why jeans?" she asked.
"Because what you're wearing ain't exactly motorcycle gear."
Her eyes widened. "We're taking the motorcycle?!"
"Yep. Nice night for it." He raised an eyebrow. "Any objections?"
"N-no...its just..." She paused. "I've never been on a motorcycle before."
He grinned. "Well, there's a first time for everything."
She flashed him a shy smile, and Logan felt something give inside him. She should smile more often, he thought. She looks incredible when she smiles.
"I'll be right there," she said, and then she disappeared through the door. After a moment, Logan followed and turned down the hall toward the garage.
This was going to be fun.
* * * * *
In less than ten minutes Logan was rumbling down the blacktop on Scott's motorcycle, Ororo sitting behind him with her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. She had come down to the garage in record time, and Logan couldn't help but look at her appreciatively. She had changed into a tight white blouse and blue jeans, and over it she wore a ladies' leather jacket, belted at the waist.
"Here," he said, tossing her the bike helmet. She caught it deftly and placed it on her head, tightening the neck strap with a grin.
"Yes, I guess I would need it more than you, considering your healing factor." She finished and watched him as he swung a leg over the seat, settling his hands into a comfortable grip on the handlebars. "What do I need to do?"
"Get on the seat behind me, and hold on to my waist." She obeyed, and he could feel her trembling as she pressed herself against his back and slid her slender arms around him, holding on tightly. "Are you nervous?" he asked.
She laughed, her voice shaking slightly. "I'm terrified."
"Don't worry, 'Ro," he chuckled. "I haven't crashed yet."
"Yes, but didn't you just say there was a first time for everything?!" she retorted, and Logan turned his head to look back at her with a feral grin.
"C'mon...don't you trust me?" he asked, and before she could answer he kickstarted the bike. It roared to life beneath them, and he felt Ororo's arms tighten around him even more. Oh yeah...ol' One-Eye might be a dick, but he had one hell of a bike.
He drove the motorcycle through the huge double doors of the garage and out into the night, the wind whipping past them and the stars bright diamonds in the clear sky above. They drove in silence, conversation impossible over the whistle of the wind and the rumble of the engine, but Logan was content to drive, secretly enjoying the feel of Ororo's warm body pressed against his back. He stole a quick glance down at her brown hands, clasped across his stomach, and was surprised by the shiver of lust that ran through his body.
Stop that, asshole, he told himself sternly. Thoughts like that will only fuck things up...and she's the first best friend you've ever had. That thought surprised him as well...the realization of what she had become to him.
She was his best friend, and he thought that was pretty fucking grand.
He leaned into a curve and she leaned with him, and they roared toward the city with only the night surrounding them and the wind howling a wild song in their ears.
* * * * *
They reached the city in record time, and Ororo leaned forward to shout directions in Logan's ear. He found her ice cream shop with no trouble, and soon he was easing the bike into a parking space directly in front of the door. Ororo hopped easily off the bike, and Logan followed her through the door of the shop, accompanied by the tinkling of the bell above it.
It was a tiny storefront shop, with black and white floortiles and pink walls. Round tables sat here and there, surrounded by small chairs, and against the far corner was a long freezer case filled with tubs of ice cream. A young man, probably no older than Rogue, stood behind the counter flipping through Entertainment Weekly, but it appeared that Logan and Ororo were the only customers.
Ororo headed for the counter, the bike helmet under her arm. The kid looked up, giving her white hair and brown skin a funny look, then asked, "May I help you?"
She glanced at Logan, and he waved a hand at her. "Get whatever you want."
"One scoop of rum raisin, in a cone, please." She looked at Logan again while the kid moved to get her ice cream. "What are you going to have, Logan?"
He moved closer and peered into the case. "I don't know...chocolate, I guess."
She smiled. "I thought you lived more dangerously than that."
He growled a little, and she laughed aloud. The kid finished scooping up her order and handed her the cone. "And you, sir?" he asked politely. "In a cone or a cup?"
"Cone," Logan muttered. The young man complied, and Logan fished his wallet out of his back pocket while Ororo went to one of the tables and sat down. The kid handed him his cone, then rang up both ice creams and Logan paid him before joining Ororo at her table.
He took an experimental lick of his chocolate. Yuck. A little on the too sweet side for his tastes, but he had a hunch that she would have felt bad eating hers in front of him if he didn't have one too.
"How is it?" she asked.
"Good," he lied, watching her eat, her small tongue darting out of her mouth, licking the ice cream into swirls. He felt a slight stirring in his loins, and he looked away hurriedly. Damn. Who would have thought ice cream could be a turn-on?
"I've never had...what was yours again?" he asked. "Rum raisin?"
"Mm-hmm." She paused, then held the cone out to him. "Would you like to try some?"
He shook his head. "No thanks."
"No, really, try it. It's my favorite."
He hesitated, then leaned over and bit a small piece from the ice cream. Almost immediately, his face screwed up in distaste. "Uck...that's disgusting!"
Ororo burst out laughing. "Sorry..I thought you might like it." She took another lick, her eyes twinkling merrily at Logan. "It's an acquired taste."
"If you don't mind, I think I'll stick with chocolate." He brought his cone back to his mouth and ate some, trying to rid his mouth of the taste of rum raisin. "So, where do you want to go when we leave here?"
Ororo blinked, then smiled. "You mean you're not tired of me yet?"
"Nope."
She lowered her eyes, and Logan thought he saw the faintest bit of color rise to here cheeks. "Do you remember that park we passed on the way here, the one with the pond?" she asked after a moment.
"Yeah, I think so. Is that where you want to go?"
"I'd love to, if its okay with you." They ate in silence for some time, then Ororo finished her ice cream and looked up at him hopefully. "There are black swans there, and even at night you can see them swimming."
He stood up and threw the rest of his cone away. "Well, let's go then."
She rose and tossed away her napkin. "Really? You don't mind?"
"Not a bit."
She gave him a brilliant smile, and Logan held the door open for her as she walked out to the bike. She didn't seem to notice the action, simply standing beside the motorcycle replacing the helmet on her head, but he was surprised with himself. Since when did he start opening doors for people, female or otherwise? He shook his head a little and laughed under his breath.
She looked up. "Did you say something?"
"Nope." He straddled the bike and waited while she seated herself behind him, placing her arms around his waist once more. "Ready?" he asked.
"Ready," she answered, and he kicked the engine to life and pulled away from the curb.
* * * * *
The park wasn't far away, and within a few minutes they reached it and Logan rolled the bike to a stop in the empty parking lot. They both dismounted, Ororo taking off her helmet and hanging it on the back of the seat, and then the two of them walked silently across the grass to the pond on the far side, its still surface glimmering faintly in the dark.
There was a wooden walkway that extended from the shore to a gazebo in the middle of the water, and Ororo wandered alomg it slowly, staring out over the water. Logan followed, unable to keep his eyes off her legs in their tight jeans as she stopped and leaned against the railing. There were lights lining the shoreline here and there, and their soft glow reflected off her white hair like moonlight. He found himself wondering what it would feel like to touch her hair, to sink his fingers into it and turn her face up to his...
He shook his head, willing the thoughts away. He didn't have time for this shit. Not Storm. Not ever.
She turned to look at him, and he could see her smiling through the darkness. "Come look, Logan." She pointed across the water, and Logan saw a pair of swans, black as midnight, gliding silently over the surface of the pond. He crossed the walkway quickly and leaned against the railing beside her, watching them as they swam by, then he turned slightly and looked at Ororo.
"Will they come up to you?" he asked.
"No, swans are very skittish creatures. They only come near people if they feel threatened, and then its usually to bite." She laughed at the expression on his face. "They don't have teeth, though."
He grinned a little and she smiled back, then turned to watch the swans slowly circling in some private dance only they understood. "I don't think people should try to touch them anyway," she murmured. "Some creatures are like the unicorn...too magnificent to be touched by mere mortals."
"I know what you mean."
Logan couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Black swan...that's what she was. Dark, beautiful, graceful...and too magnificent to be touched by someone like him. He looked down at his large hands, the fingers callused...touched the space between his knuckles that concealed his claws, and suddenly wished he was anyone but who he was. There was some undefinable emotion stirring inside him, and when he looked from his rough hands to Ororo's face beside him, he felt an ache in his heart that was somehow worse than any pain he'd ever known.
A slender hand touched his arm, and he was surprised to find she was slipping her arm through his. She seemed to be doing it unconsciously, for her dark eyes were still fixed on the swans, a small smile on her lips, and Logan smiled a little ruefully and laid a hand over hers.
She glanced at him and smiled. "I've had a wonderful evening, Logan. Thank you."
"It was my pleasure," he said softly. "Just don't tell anyone...it'll ruin what's left of my reputation."
She laughed again, and Logan smiled, realizing that if he could never do more than make her laugh, it would be enough.
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