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Call of the Wild	By : Polymer Category: X-men Comics > Het - Male/Female > Logan/Ororo Views: 5481 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men comics, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

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Call of the Wild

By Trynia Merin

Shameless Ro/Lo fluff! Be warned! This is not for people under 18!!! I don't own X Men, Marvel does! This is a piece of fanfiction for entertainment only folks! No profits are gained by me except reading a fun story! Kiddies, out of the pool for THIS one! This applies to ALL chapters after this one too, folks!

The story you're going to read is based on events in Classic X men 5 and 7, that hint at Logan and Ororo 'sharing' a breath, and to somehow explain the tension that exists between them later on in the book. It also references a possible repercussion of Storm's defiance of having to 'wear absurd scraps of cloth'. This happens after the fight with Juggernaut in Cassidy Keep, and Black Tom, and after Vindicator tries to bring Logan back to Alpha Flight. In the early days of the All New All Different X men, around the first vestiges of the Phoenix.

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Introduction

Too many people walked on eggshells around the Wind Rider for fear of angering her, and setting her off to destroy everything in a fifty-mile radius with her powers. Keeping a lid on it all was taxing, and over the years he tried in his own subtle ways to show Ororo it was all right to acknowledge her womanly desires.

That kiss they'd shared was not the first and only kiss. Not in distant memory, maybe recent. Other brief kisses and touches were conveniently forgotten, and added to a collective tab. The entire reason for avoiding a full-blown relationship was the fear that it would adversely curb her effectiveness as Gold Team leader, and second in command after Cyclops of the X men.

Back in the beginning he had been far more the diamond in the rough. Sure he liked broads, an' Ororo was a pretty piece. Exotic, and haughty, yet strangely innocent and wise. She was a dichotomy, an oxymoron in every sense. While she had been a street thief, she appeared the regal princess. Still she kept the lockpicks in the very headdress that crowned her as Wind Rider, a testament to her complexity that kept Logan guessing. While she was unashamed of her nudity, she was extremely selective about whom she made love to, on rare occasions. Only a few times in his memory did he recall her having what one would call a 'lover' or a significant other. Namely because she was so significant in her own right, most males paled in comparison. Storm was power. Through and through, and her strength of character scared most eligible men off.

Despite her feigned ignorance of culture, Logan knew she had only seen the underbelly of western civilization. She had suppressed those memories in an effort to atone and cleanse her soul of whatever blackness the Shadow King had dipped it in. Traded the urchin for the Mother Goddess, an object of reverence from an object of scorn and exploitation. But she was STILL letting herself be exploited to put others needs before her own.

At first she had riled him up and intrigued him. He was more of a chauvinist in those days, bold as brass and arrogant. She alone next to Jean stood up to his ways, and knocked him down a few pegs when appropriate. That made her all the more attractive, yet since Jean was a convenient forbidden fruit, he didn't waste much effort considering pursuing her past the usual flirtation. Kurt and Peter had fawned over her and pursued her with all the bluster and charm of two teenagers. Peter was her little brother, and Kurt was a kindly circus clown, both out of their league but welcome distractions.

Yet that day when she'd been caught swimming in the pool and Kurt had warned them all to stay back, he had seen her as a woman. Damn what a woman. Stepping out of the water, not a stitch on her, and he couldn't help but admire the goods. That mental image he'd tucked away in his mind to treasure when needed, mentally comparing her forever to all those airbrushed hustler centerfolds, and finding them just a mere appetizer. She was the target now of a healthy male sexual attraction, and he felt more at ease. Pyoter had the gentlemanly grace to hand her his sweatshirt, and Kurt was as dark as midnight, blushing while Xavier calmly reminded them the need for teaching Ororo the social norms of what was considered acceptable attire. Since then she had always worn a bikini if anything when swimming. Still he knew that she would fly to a mountain lake and swim in the altogether because she hated the confinement of clothes.

Thank heaven for Jean's education. She turned the Goddess into a high style woman. Or at least tried to with the help of Stevie Hunter. Ororo learned the joy of shopping, and chose her own style. Yet she never lost her own unique charm. That link with her Mother earth, the 'Bright Lady' who was her mother. Who demanded constant communion with the Wind Rider? That was one familiar chord that bound her and Logan in ways he felt uncomfortable about.

Nature to him was a contest. Survival of the fittest, kill or be killed. It seemed at odds with her picture that more resembled the Lion King and Bambi then Call of the Wild, or Mutual of Omaha's wild kingdom. He saw himself as nature in all its savage fury, and she as its tameness. Yet she was all too capable of anger and violence when pushed.

An amusing incident from his early days on the team crossed his mind. Ever since the start, she had her own ideas of what was socially appropriate and inappropriate behavior. Storm had been encouraged to wear the white and black bikini that Jean had insisted she buy since that day. Yet Logan could swear he had seen her some nights still sneaking out, or laying on the rooftop with her bare back to the sun.

He often thought about that one particular day when he pushed the barriers and tried to start from ground zero. See if she was willing to look beneath the surface as his instincts told him. It was one thing to so readily accept the Misfit, but he was another story.

Part 1

One afternoon a few weeks after they returned from Cassidy Keep, he wandered out from a long danger room practice. It was down time between missions, and not much activity had occurred. Most of the X men took advantage of the time to catch up on lost acquaintances and business. Nevertheless Logan treated it simply as the eye of the hurricane, only briefly relaxing his vigil.

So far he had struck up a friendship with Nightcrawler. Both loved beer, and enjoying sitting around and chewing the fat at Harry's. Ever since he pushed Nightcrawler's comfort level by making him walk down Main Street without that inducer, they had grown closer. Wolverine's idea of making friends involved several 'trials' which would test the limits of what a potential friend would consider 'acceptable behavior'. Often he would observe the person and size them up as buddy material. Women as well as men, though for different reasons. Most females to Wolverine fell into three categories: the one of the guy tomboy coworker, the hot date to warm his bed, or the young ones that needed his fatherly protection and a purely platonic mentorship. Jean had fallen into the second, while storm had fit mostly the first. Actually he wasn't quite SURE what to classify storm as. Statuesquely beautiful and powerful, exuding a ray of overpowering sensuality, yet unapproachable.

As they had spent time, he'd seen his friends open up. He slowly followed the trend, only giving them scraps of his true nature. The first few times he had taken off the mask they had been somewhat shocked to see he actually was fairly humanoid in appearance, in comparison to the elf and the Beast. Apart from the hair on his head possessing the predilection to grow into two points like some sort of werewolf wannabe, and the canine look to his teeth, he looked basically like a rugged outdoorsmen. Still his eyes often unnerved them, sharp and bright, and his nostrils that had a tendency to flare as they picked up a scent. Perhaps that's why he took to wearing a broad-brimmed cowboy hat that shadowed his eyes and brow, only subtly. He even wore it when jogging oddly enough.

Imagine what they'd think when they knew the truth about his claws. Or what his real name was. Both were secrets he kept close to his vest for now. The only two people who knew his claws were part of his skeleton were Jean, and Warren. By the time Storm had drenched them in rain, he'd retracted them. Warren was so shocked he was sure he'd seen a ghost, while Jean had silently promised to keep it a secret. Better off that most didn't know about their true nature.

Those that happened to see them were urged one way or another to mind their own flamin' business. Misfit included. Far as they knew, his claws were extensions of his costume gloves and he intended to maintain that illusion. As far as the adamantium bones, they knew he had an unbreakable skeleton, which was rather obvious, but the professor had been so vague as tot he extent of the modification, nobody knew that his ENTIRE skeleton was fused with the substance.

Which brought him back to memories of that day. He stuck to a routine of calisthenics that started at the crack of dawn. 100 pushups or more, equivalent numbers of jumping jacks, and then various forms of Japanese calisthenics performed in the privacy of his own room, or outside when the weather was good for running. Midday he would go for a five or ten mile run, after a danger room session.

Sometimes he'd venture into the pool, but usually only in the company of the guys, or alone. Today he decided to see if it was available for a few laps. Attired in wifebeater and red gym shorts, with a pair of well-worn running shoes and folded down pro socks. Often he was barefoot instead; out on his impromptu hunts when he really wanted to sneak up on his quarry and just gently touch them with his claws before letting them escape. He'd thrown his cowboy hat to shield his eyes, and wander and see if the pool was occupied, for he smelled Ororo's scent. Maybe an impromptu swim might do him better than a run. Not that swimming was the top of a list for a guy with six million bucks of adamantium in his bones.

He set down his can of beer and dropped his towel over one of the deck chairs, and sat down to watch her head break surface. She swam with bold strokes from one wall to another. Gliding like a fish under its surface and then emerging with controlled breaths. The water was so choppy from her strokes it surged and foamed, light from overhead sparkling like bits of broken glass. Logan shaded his sensitive eyes and cursed under his breath. Should have brought his ray bans but they were tucked under the seat of his scoot of all places.

"Ah, Wolverine, what a pleasant surprise," she said, surfacing and glancing up at him.

"Hullo, 'Roro," he said. She blinked at the use of the nickname he'd applied.

"Thought you'd be out with the others, but you seem in the mood for exercise. Care to join me? I wouldn't mind the company�"

"You sure?" he asked. "Cause ya love yer solitude� an' I don't wanna butt in�"

"Since when did you worry so about that?" she asked, and he knew why. Then she put a hand to her mouth and formed an apology.

"Nah, don't apologize, Princess," he chuckled. "Don't hurt to say what's on yer mind."

"I should not question you, considering the other day� when I so readily passed judgement on one of your other pastimes," Ororo said tentatively.

Wolverine sensed her tension, and fear of reproach. Time to relieve her fears, and get her to relax a bit, because he'd forgotten that he'd snapped at her. Dismissively he waved a hand and allowed a small grin as he said, "Forget it, Princess. Water under the bridge."

She smiled, and her face lit up, blue eyes sparkling like the overhead sky. "Glad to hear it. You seem in top form today� all systems go, as Nightcrawler would joke�"

"All things considered� My stupid fault I got inna way of Major Maple leaf. Over an' done with� what I don't get is why you two bothered to pull my ass outta that fire," he mumbled. She realized from the way, in which he dipped his head to partly cover his face, this was the closest he had come to an apology for his rudeness.

"You're our teammate, Wolverine," Storm shrugged, resting her arms on the pool and cradling her chin on top. "Why should we not?"

"Even if I was a grouchy jackass?" he challenged.

"Since when did you apologize about your behavior?" she asked, shrugging. "If I may be so bold as to ask."

"Never mind. Forget I said anything," he mumbled, glancing down at an invisible spot on the pavement in front of him. He kicked at it with the toe of his shoe.

"No, I want to know why� because as I recall I was the one who misjudged YOU� I should be the one apologizing�"

"Cut it out, 'Roro, it's all past, anyway. What matters is that you an' Petey came to the big rescue. An' that says what really matters in this fool outfit," Logan said dismissively. "I guess what I'm getin' at, is I kinda sorta� wanted to wipe the ol' slate clean� an' show ya this canucklehead ain't such a jerk after all�"

"Considerate of you, for I welcome your company," Ororo smiled naturally. Logan's reaction was neutral, but his eyes widened in mild surprise.

"Even if I smoke, darlin?" he asked.

"I would prefer NOT� but since we are outside� and in the spirit of relaxation� I suppose for you I can make an exception," Ororo tapped her chin. "Just don't expect me to join you for one�"

"Much obliged," Wolverine nodded, reaching into his pocket and drawing out a cellophane wrapped package. She watched him with bright eyes, like a cat watching a set of knitting needles. Cellophane was off, and shoved back into his pocket, then the flash as he swung out his keychain and clipped the end with a cutter, and thrust it between his teeth.

He felt a breeze whipping against his face. Ororo requested, "Aim it into the wind, and it shall suffice."

"If ya say so," he shrugged; lighting it with a silver zippo that had seen better days. Ororo watched with amusement, as he rolled the smoke out of his lips and blew it the opposite direction so it wouldn't drift into her face. Although she wrinkled her nose, she was being brave to keep in his proximity. He slid out a claw and hooked it through the pull-tab of his Michelob, and yanked it open. Then he conveniently tossed the pull-tab directly into the trashcan to her relief.

His head tipped back, and she watched the motion of his neck, and throat as he sipped half the can. The natural inclination to belch loudly was curbed by a hand over the mouth, and a resumption of his cigar between his lips. Those brown eyes watched her carefully, as she watched him. Searching for some topic of conversation when he otherwise wouldn't have bothered socializing before. Beyond inviting Jeannie to a nineball and a brew.

"Care to join me for a swim?" she offered. "When you're done of course�"

"Maybe, maybe not. You seem to be enjoying it, so why spoil a good thing?" he said, leaning back in the deckchair and propping his feet up. He tipped his hat forwards to shade his face some more, letting smoke roll off his tongue and lips into the breeze she provided.

"Come to think of it I rarely see you swim. But it is probably none of my business, anyway," she said quickly, kicking her legs as she hung off the poolside.

"Don't' swim much," he grunted. "But don't mean I can't� just got my reasons� other then wantin' to let a pretty lady enjoy her privacy�"

"And the view?" she teased. Logan's eyebrow went up, and she enjoyed his surprise at her acceptance of his admiring her. Then of course he realized she had no objections to men seeing her in an appreciative manner.

"Yep," he nodded. "If ya don't mind. It's pretty easy on the eyes� if ya don�t' mind me sayin' so�"

"Not at all," she said, and pushed back from the wall. Logan saw she was drifting on her back, and tried to curb his natural reaction. Hadn't she learned the first time around? Laying on another deck chair was a folded towel, sunblock, and a hat and sunglasses. Yet there was nothing but a loose caftan hanging forgotten.

No swimsuit. After all the fuss two weeks ago. Maybe it was because she and him were the only occupants of the mansion. Professor X was elsewhere, while Sean was visiting Moira at the hospital. Kurt and Pyoter were on a double date with Amanda and Betsy. Whereas Scott was visiting Jean in her New York apartment. Storm had volunteered for sentry position, and he had come back to see if she was all right, not that he'd admit it in a million years.

He finished his cigar and beer while watching her do the backstroke, not trying to look too obvious of how much he was enjoying this. Yet Storm was perfectly comfortable, or blissfully unaware of the effect she had. However he was glad for his self-control, because the last thing he wanted was for her to take up her former opinion of him as a boorish animal. Since when did he worry about what others thought of him? Since he'd met Jean, and she had changed his whole outlook on how his behavior affected others.

Storm was a good place to start practicing 'socializing'. He was not stupid, he knew that they had a few things in common. Plus he had some strange notion that perhaps he'd enjoy spending company with a woman other than Jean, who was unavailable. Nothing beyond just chewing the fat and sitting around drinking beer and chatting. Storm liked to spend as much time with them as with Jean and Lorna. At ease as much with men as women.

"As a matter of fact, I think I'll join ya," he muttered. Wolverine leaned down to take off his shoes, and set them aside. Storm climbed up the ladder, her long silver hair hanging down her back to cover all but a passing glimpse of her bare bottom as she strode to the ladder, and climbed up to the high diving board. Seeing him in the motions of removing shoes and hat, she waved.

"I see you have changed your mind?" she called down.

"I'll wait for ya to dive in first. No sense in ya getting at risk to be collidin' with a runt with adamantium bones," he joked. "First rule a' swimming� right?"

"Proceed," Storm laughed, and he saw her stride out to the end of the board, and position her self to dive. With grace she arced her dark skinned body and shot over the top and twirled momentary in a summersault, then shot down to the water like an arrow. Logan crossed his arms and tugged off the tank top, throwing it carelessly on the bench next to his socks. He grabbed his towel and draped it around his neck; figuring wearing the shorts in lieu of swim trunks wasn't a huge taboo.

Walking to the shallow end, he stepped to the ladder leading to the four-foot section, and slowly stepped down. It creaked a bit under his weight, and he saw Storm hanging on the bottom. While he was concerned, he knew that she was an accomplished swimmer, capable of holding her breath for long as any champion. Finally as he got into the water, up to his waist he hung onto the latter and saw her shoot up to the surface. Her hair flicked back as she broke water, and spit out the water in her mouth. Arms and legs moved in broad strokes, her smile apparent when she saw him there on the ladder.

"Nice," he said, clapping loudly. "I'd give that at least a 9.5�"

"Thank you," she mock bowed in the water. "Aren't you coming in?"

"Takes a while," he shrugged and then slowly let go of the ladder. Ororo swum to the rope marking the deep end from the gradual drop, and saw him immediately sink till his head was just above the water. Four feet wasn't too bad, and he slowly pushed his body up with his toes.

"It's nice, is it not?" she sighed, her long legs swirling beneath the pool, arms making lazy butterfly strokes that kept her easily treading water.

"Fine, flamin' fine. Not too damn cold, not that THAT bothers me�" he chuckled. Storm watched as he pushed off from the bottom and shot forwards, doing a credible stroke. Was he joking about 'adamantium' in his bones? He hadn't said much about his mutant powers other than his enhanced senses and his quick healing. Yet in the danger room he weighed far more than a man his size should. She knew from that first mission when he clung to her and she had to account for more mass than she expected.

"Race you," she challenged him as he reached the rope, working hard to keep above water. For a moment she noted how his body hair plastered wet and slick to his muscles, and that he was one of the few men with such an abundance that was attractive. No, make that QUITE attractive. Colossus had hardly any hair, whereas Kurt was covered every square inch with short fuzzy fur. In Ororo's book that didn't count for the purpose of this comparison.

"Yer on," he grinned. She swum to the side to unhook the rope and they both moved to the shallow end. Once positioned, she called time, and the race was on.

Logan must have swallowed half the pool as he shot to the far wall only seconds behind her. Sometimes he was behind, sometimes ahead as they swam crawl stroke back and forth. Storm must be half fish, he convinced himself as he broke a sweat just trying to keep pace with her. Without his healing factor he'd be hopelessly out of breath and muscle cramped by now.

As his head broke water, he smelled something with regret. So soon? An approaching scent of exhaust and the sound of a car engine. Maybe it was just a passing motorist he hoped. Yet he didn't wish a repeat of the entire pool scene again. His mind worked hard to try and think of a way to get her back into the mansion if the car happened to stop.

"Storm, ya swim so well, why not give me a few pointers?" he asked.

"If you wish, though you do quite well for a man who does not swim much as he claims," she smiled. They met in the deep end, and Logan quickly sniffed again. Indeed it was no more than a passing car.

"Such as how t' do that damn butterfly stroke," he suggested.

"Like this�" she said, demonstrating the proper strokes. It kept her torso and legs below water as he'd hoped.

"And perhaps how ya hold yer breath so dang long," he shrugged. Nostrils flared, and he smelled another cloud of exhaust. To his annoyance he heard the hissing of tires and popping of stones that indicated it was pulling up the long driveway.

"I saturate my lungs like a pearl diver," she said. "Like this�"

Her torso moved as she inhaled deep breaths. "Then I twist my body in what you'd call a pike dive, and then flip like THIS� and let out the air so I can sink�"

Her bare bottom flashed momentarily, and Logan panicked when he heard the front door unlocking, and the sound of voices. Dammit, he'd have to work fast. This wasn't going to look good ANY way he sliced it. Taking deep breaths, he pushed himself under and sank to the bottom with ease. Storm was already there, sitting on the bottom looking up at him. He easily sat there, glancing at her with a challenge as he let only a tiny bit of air out, and she smiled in admiration.

They shot up for breath. Footsteps moved in the main part of the mansion, and he whispered, "I challenge ya. Whoever holds their breath long enough gets outta kitchen duty� for a week�"

"If you insist, I don't back down from a challenge," she winked. "On your mark, get set, GO�"

Both of them inhaled several breaths, deep and long, and then flipped. Water closed over Logan's head, and he could still hear the sounds magnified in the pool. In the denser medium of water it was disorienting, and the chorine stung his eyes and nose. He could smell her body through the water, and the sound of footsteps was magnified five times as was his heart and breathing.

They sat not four inches from each other, and he was by her side. She was amused as he sat Indian style on the bottom, letting none of his air out while she let a few bubbles dribble. If only she knew he was doing this to defend her honor she wouldn't be so trusting or so blissful. He prayed nobody came out to the pool while they came up and he tried to reach her robe and the towel in time.

A voice echoed close, and Logan panicked. Storm wondered why he seemed so agitated, and suddenly felt her lungs pinch for lack of air. It had been almost four minutes, and she needed to surface. Yet Logan moved over and suddenly grabbed her to hold her down. She panicked and fought while he grabbed her, and then his lips covered hers, and she received precious air that kept her from passing out.

His arms around her weighed her body down, and she wondered what in the Goddess name he was pulling. IT was not funny, and she was getting nervous at his intentions. When the voices receded, he let go and dragged her to the surface with quick kicks. Angrily she pulled away from him and gulped lungfulls of air.

"Lords of Earth and Air! Wolverine, what ARE you doing?"

"Saving yer virtue," he gasped.

"Of all the� you tricked me!"

"Listen t' me, someone's coming, an' in case ya FORGOT, you ain't wearing a swimsuit an' ya KNOW what Xavier�"

"Goddess�" she gasped. "I'm sorry Wolverine� I forgot� but you could have REMINDED me."

"I didn�t' wanna spoil your fun. I know ya hate wearin' those things� and it wasn't cause I was bein' a letch or anything�"

"My nakedness does NOT make me insecure, nor does your observation of it. But you could have WARNED me," she huffed angrily as she moved towards the ladder.

"Don't be pissed 'Roro� aw hell�"

"I'm just rather tired of swimming right now�" she huffed.

"Wait, someone's coming, an I ain't fooling," he hissed urgently, and kicked urgently to push himself as close to her as possible. That damn shirt was ten feet away, and her towel wasn't much closer.

"Wolverine, you're being silly�" she snorted as she turned to face him, and he heard Sean and Kurt talking quite loudly as they reached the pool door.

"Quick dammit," he hissed, and then she was in his arms, her front pressed between him and the wall. He struggled to use his own body to obscure their view of them.

"Storm, Wolverine� we didn't see you here�"

"Goddess," she groaned, seeing their looks of confusion.

"I wasn't fooling," he groaned.

"I'll take care of this," she said, and minutes later, a fog suddenly burst forth, shielding them both from the two confused x men.

"Storm? Is this some game?" they asked.

"It's a Danger room drill!" she called. "I'll be done momentarily�"

"Was that Wolverine with you?'

"Don't ya have somethin' more interesting to do than ask stupid questions, bub? I was getting' a swimming lesson if yer so damn nosy," Logan barked. Storm couldn't help but laugh, but she squirmed in his protective embrace, because he was far closer than any man had been in ages, and his body hair tickled her skin.

"Hold on, Wolverine," she whispered. "And close your eyes�"

"Why� what?"

"You aren't fond of heights as I recall," she whispered, and Logan let out a surprised snort as she shot up out of the water, him still clinging to her body.

"Hey!" he yelled, and then let go in shock, landing in the pool with a huge splash that dissipated the fog.

Kurt and Sean were drenched with the water, and it gave Storm time to grab her robe and pull it on quickly before she was seen. Shaking her head, she regarded them blinking in the dissipating fog, and a cursing and swearing Logan fighting his way to the surface and spitting out water.

"I see that someone needs more LESSONS," Kurt laughed.

"Looks like we missed the fun," said Pyoter as he strode out, in swim trunks and a towel. Seeing Ororo landing, wearing her robe, he nodded.

"I see we've learned our lesson," Kurt joked. Logan cursed and fussed more for effect and pushed his way to the wall.

"Hold on, I shall assist our friend in his predicament," Storm said as she strode over and offered her hand.

"Perhaps he might like some company, ja?" Kurt grinned.

"Kurt, don't be stupid," Pyoter. "No� wait a minute�"

Grabbing storm, he tickled her, and then gave her a shove. "Kurt, no, wait!" she cried as she shot out and landed in the water with a huge splash.

"Tsovartich, you should NOT do that," Pyoter scolded, and grabbed Kurt by the scruff of the neck. Before he could say anything, the elf shot out and over the water. A bamf suddenly exploded and he dematerialized above Pyoter, and shoved him into the pool.

"Storm, aw hell," Logan groaned, and made a vain grab at her before she could shed the soaking robe. Pyoter spat out water, his arms flailing as he cursed in a string of Russian that he was glad Storm couldn't understand. Kurt stood there, hands on his hips laughing till Sean shoved him in too and they were all sopping wet and splashing.

Wolverine backed Storm into the ladder, blocking their view with his body, and she realized what he was doing. A white silk robe was see through when wet, and he was merely being a gentleman. Gratefully she let him do this, and generated a wind to blow great gusts of water in everyone's face so she and Logan could slip away unobserved.
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Call of the Wild