Ororo watched as Logan spoke in a low undertone to the girl. The connection between them was so obvious -- almost frightening in its intensity. She supposed that she should disapprove. Although the girl was certainly of age there was something so fragile and vulnerable about her. Instead of causing disapproval, however, watching the two of them together warmed something inside Ororo.
Maybe it was the change in Wolverine -- how gentle and patient he was with her. Proximity to the girl seemed to ease something inside him, his typical impression of barely-restrained brutality replaced by a gruff protectiveness. Ororo marveled at the way his eyes seemed to soften and warm when they lit on the girl, how his voice transformed from his usual sarcastic snarl to a low, reassuring rumble.
She wondered if he even realized how much he touched the girl -- small grazes of his hand over her hair, a squeeze of her shoulder, the seemingly reflexive way he pulled her close against his side whenever she was afraid or uncertain. Or the way the girl responded to these small touches -- her eyes glowing, her face brightening like someone first glimpsing the sunshine after a long, cold winter.
Ororo smiled at her own fanciful metaphor. Logan had always puzzled her in his approach to personal relationships. She knew he considered them all to be his friends -- or at least as close to friends as the Wolverine had ever had -- and yet even after six years he still kept a careful distance between himself and the other staff members. He was always professional, but in a way that was not encouraging of personal confidences. Ororo had heard tales of his tomcat behavior outside of work hours, but he always kept that strictly separate from mansion activities, and if he ever saw the same girl for more than one night she would be surprised.
And then there had been his odd fascination with Jean. Ororo felt her smile disappear just thinking of the way Jean had acted. Jean was her friend -- almost her sister -- and yet she had been completely dismissive of Ororo’s advice on that matter. For Jean to start flirting with Logan so heedlessly, knowing she had no intention of following through -- Ororo had found it appalling.
She had told herself that perhaps Jean just needed to experience the excitement of flirting, the thrill of being chased. Jean had been with Scott for so long it was hard to even think of them as individuals rather than a couple. Their engagement, instead of reassuring Jean, had seemed to bring out all her insecurities. And yet it wasn’t Jean for whom Ororo had worried, or even Scott, who perhaps understood Jean’s behavior more than anyone, sharing a connection as they did. Instead Ororo had feared for Logan -- something about the intense, watchful way he had looked at Jean hinting that his feelings might run deeper than the simple, crude flirtation he affected.
Before this last mission, when Logan had finally seemed to realize Jean’s game and had told her off, Jean was spitting mad but Ororo was immensely relieved. And in truth, she suspected that a lot of Jean’s anger was rooted in guilt and shame over her behavior. With probably a healthy dose of genuine anger as well -- Jean refused to admit exactly what Logan had said to her, but knowing the man Ororo suspected he had made no effort to be tactful. No one likes to be made a fool of, least of all the Wolverine, Ororo thought with a smile.
They were finally parting now, Logan having convinced the girl to accompany Ororo to where the videolink was set up. Ororo fancied that she could almost hear a tearing sound as the two of them pulled apart. Again she wondered how conscious Logan was of the connection between them. The animal in him was so intuitive -- on some level he must know. And yet, Ororo knew that Logan tried to suppress his feral instincts in most circumstances, only unleashing the Wolverine in combat. Yes, she surmised, Logan himself might not yet know how deeply he was entangled with the girl. She smothered her smile as he turned towards her. It would be entertaining to watch him coming to terms with that realization -- as long as he didn’t struggle too hard against it, the poor man.
_____________________
"There. At the end of the gravel path. See the ramp? They anchored off there, and used a motorized raft to get back. It was one of those fishing boats, ya know? Not like the professionals have, but like rich guys get when they retire. Two levels, but not big enough that you have to open the drawbridges for it."
Ororo had felt a tightness in her chest since they had realized that Jubilee and Kitty had been abducted, and for the first time she felt it ease a bit. It was a slim lead, but if this was really where they would be brought she would be damned if anything would stop the team from getting them back -- and god help those who had taken them.
“Piotr, Bobby, set up the cameras, but be sure nothing is visible from the ramp or road. We don’t want to tip them off. Start with a cycle of four-hour watches in the day, six hours at night. We don’t expect them until day after tomorrow, at night, but we need to be prepared. If you see them, alert us immediately, but do not engage -- understand? We’ll only have one chance at this.”
“We will be ready at all times.” Piotr’s voice was grim. Ororo had suspected for awhile that he might have special feelings for Kitty, and his reaction to her abduction had turned that suspicion to a certainty.
“We’ll get them back, Piotr. I promise.” Ororo heard the roughness of tears in her own voice.
“Da.” Piotr ended the videolink.
Ororo looked at Rogue, a little embarrassed at the emotion she had revealed, but the girl was staring at the table.
Ororo shifted awkwardly to her feet, clearing her throat. “Thank you, Rogue. You’ve been a great help.”
The girl pulled Logan’s jacket more tightly around herself. She lifted her gaze to Ororo, her eyes sharp and suspicious. “So that takes care of your friends. What about the others?”
Ororo gestured to a large desktop computer, numbers and letters scrolling across the screen. “Logan was able to give us Freddy's account number. If we’re able to hack in, we can try to track who made the other transfers -- bought the others. It’ll take time, though, the computer has to run through every possible password. There are ways to optimize the search pattern, but..." She felt a lump rise up in her throat, making her voice rough. “Kitty was always the best at that sort of stuff.”
Rogue sat in silence for a moment and then stood up, her arms still wrapped around herself protectively. To Ororo’s surprise, she took a few steps and then sat down at the keyboard, her gloved fingers trembling above the keys.
“Rogue -- do you know Freddy’s password?” Ororo asked in amazement.
Rogue shrugged, her expression shuttered. “Not yet.”
She bowed her head, closing her eyes. Ororo saw her grow pale. A twitch of her muscles and then her hands were moving over the keyboard, typing out a password. She hit the return key, and the account opened.
“Rogue -- that’s amazing! Thank you...” Ororo reached out to squeeze Rogue’s shoulder.
The next thing she knew she was pushed back hard, the edge of a filing cabinet biting sharply into her spine. The hand that Ororo had reached toward Rogue was now twisted behind her back, Rogue’s other gloved hand wrapped around her throat. Rogue’s eyes were blank, and the voice that spoke seemed eerily unfamiliar.
“Fucking mutie bitch...” Rogue hissed, wrenching Ororo’s arm higher, causing a sizzling pain to shoot through her shoulder.
Ororo drew in her breath sharply, biting back her yelp of pain. “Rogue....” She tried desperately to keep her voice calm. “Rogue, stop it. Let go.”
The hand at her throat tightened as an evil smile spread across Rogue’s face. “That’s right, bitch. Beg me for it.”
“Rogue!”
A blink, and Rogue’s blank eyes cleared. Ororo watched as the malicious expression changed to stunned confusion and then a growing dismay. Rogue jerked her hands away from Ororo, staring at them in horror for a moment before whirling away.
Ororo straightened up gingerly, cradling her wrenched arm, not sure what to do. She stared at Rogue’s stiff back and bowed head, wishing she could see her face. “Rogue?”
Rogue swiped the sleeve of the leather jacket across her eyes, drawing in a shuddering breath. “Just leave me alone,” she said, her voice shaky and miserable, and then she was out the door.
Ororo started to follow and then hesitated. She looked back at the computer. If the password timed out...there was no way she would ever ask Rogue to do that again.
With a sigh, she sat down at the computer and started tapping.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Okay, I swear I am not aiming for a 40-chapter opus, but these little in-between chapters just seem to take on a life of their own! I swear I just wanted a thought or two of Ororo's take on this budding relationship, and suddenly half the chapter has gone by. To make up for it, I'll try to update quickly. :-)
Chapter End Notes:
Please review! :-D