Blue hair. Absolutely lovely. Not just on his head, either; it was
blue on his eyebrows and his unshaved chin, blue down his arms, blue
across the chest. The last thing he remembered was dropping a girl into
a car�the President�s daughter, that was it. And then there was this
odd chasm where it seemed like memory ought to be, only it wasn�t
there. And now, awakening to find himself evidently at home, but in a
hospital bed, hurting everywhere, with blue hair.
His shriek of protest apparently went out over the psychic airwaves
simultaneously as he sputtered it out into his radio, because within a
few moments it was the Professor who entered the room, smiling as if the
sight of him battered and literally blue was prettier than sunshine.
�Well, thank goodness, Beast!� he beamed. �You had your teammates very
worried for a while.�
�Indeed. I, myself, am more worried now. I mean, what happened? Why
am I here?�
The Professor nodded soberly. �Yes, I was afraid there might be some
short-term memory loss. According to Storm, you were hit by a bomb. We
were lucky to get you back alive.�
Hank blinked a few times, uncomfortably pondering this information. �I
see. Well, that would be why everything hurts, then. What about the
hair? I mean, was it one of those dye bombs? Or did Magneto dye my
hair and mail me back to you as some kind of joke?�
�Oh, no, no. Storm and Colossus found you and brought you back. Then
Jean and I had to use an experimental method to save you. The blue hair
is a side effect of your treatment. Given the choice between that and
losing you entirely, it seemed the better option.�
�I see.� He frowned in thought. �I�m going to have to ask you about
that treatment when I�m feeling better. Did we save the president�s
daughter?�
The Professor nodded. �You did. And it�s opened up the lines of
communication between our team and the government. I�m very hopeful,
Beast. Well done.�
�They�re going to recall the Sentinels?�
�I think so. The project has already been suspended, and I�ve been
invited to a summit where I�ll try to persuade them to abandon it
entirely.�
�Hmm.� He paused, not sure he wanted to ask his next question. �Was
anyone else hurt?�
�Not seriously. You�ve been our main worry. If you don�t mind, I�ll
just go and tell the others you�ve woken up. I�m sure they�ll want to
come and say hello.� The Professor patted his hand, looking a little
absent, perhaps unsettled about something, as he turned and wheeled out
of the room. He paused in the doorway, and called over his shoulder,
�Are you hungry? Do you need anything?�
Hank thought for a moment. �I�d like something to drink,� he said.
�And maybe a sandwich.�
�I�ll arrange it,� said the Professor, and then he was gone.
Hank studied himself in a hand mirror for a few minutes, wondering if
the blue hair was permanent and if he could possibly pass it off as a
punk thing, until Jubilee arrived holding a tray with his food.
�Hi, Hank!� she enthused, setting down the tray next to him. He studied
its contents; lemonade and a ham sandwich. Well, okay. He took a long
drink and then started in on the sandwich, all with Jubilee sitting
there, looking at him.
�Like the new look?� he asked. �Blue is going to be big this season.�
�Oh, it�s not that. I�m just glad to see you awake, is all. It, uh, it
was scary. For a while there.� She leaned forward to confide in him,
her face dark. �I was so mad at first that I didn�t get to go along,
but now I�m glad. After I talked to Storm...ugh!� She shuddered. �I
don�t know what I�d have done, if I�d found Bobby like that. Or any of
you, for that matter.�
Hank visualized the scene of himself, apparently lying half-dead
somewhere from a bomb blast, and Ororo finding him there. No, not
pleasant. �What did she do? Did she tell you?�
�She freaked out�she told me people were shooting at her, too, and she
was trying to figure out how to get you out from under the rubble and
trying to fend them off, and she just couldn�t get her powers to work
right, she was so upset. Colossus had to come and shield both of you
until the rest of the team got there. It sounded awful.�
�Yes, it does, doesn�t it? How is she now?�
�Oh, she�s okay. I�m sure she�ll come see you, as soon as the prof lets
them all know you�re up. Oh, but he said you shouldn�t try to get out
of bed yet. Wait for them to come to you.�
�No worries there,� he said with a weak smile, leaning back into the
pillows angled up to allow him a better view. �I wasn�t seeing full
verticality as an option just now. Thank you for the lunch...or, well,
whatever meal it was.�
She smiled. �Lunch was right. I�m so glad you�re okay, Beast! When
you�re mobile, we�ll have to set up all that DJ gear and��
�After what happened last time?� he laughed, but then regretted the
sudden spasm of movement and stopped abruptly. �Ow.�
�Careful,� said Jubilee. �Well, I won�t tire you out, then. Rest up a
bit, you�re going to have lots more visits later. I have got to go and
tell Bobby if he doesn�t know yet. He�s been totally freaked for days.
Bye!� She kissed him on the cheek and ran out of the room.
Hank cast his eyes about for something to keep him occupied during the
next bout of waiting�other than fretting over his appearance�and found
that one of his books was lying on a bedside table. Thoughtful of
someone, he smiled, picking it up, but was disappointed to find that it
was a volume he�d already finished, Paradise Lost. Well, having nothing
else, he decided to read it again, at least until he could ask someone
to bring a replacement.
When he flipped the book open, he found a note inside, written in a
scrupulously neat hand.
Hank (it said), if you are reading this then you are awake, and I am
more grateful for that than I will ever be able to tell you. I regret
that I am not there for you, but you know by now, or soon will, that I
have resigned as team leader of the X-men. I cannot begin to tell you
how sick at heart all of us have been, watching over you, waiting to see
if you would pull through. Especially Ororo. She loves you, Hank, no
matter what anyone may tell you. I know. She and Pyotr, and Bobby and
Jubilee, and even me, if we ever meet again�we are your family. We are
the ones who care about you. I can only pray, now, that you make it
back to see that.
But I won�t be there. I have seen much more than I want to, learned far
too much about the machinations of two warring old men, and how much
each of them really cares about our welfare. I wish I could tell you
about it, but it�s still so fresh I can�t make myself write it down.
Ask Pyotr; he saw everything, and I think he will be able to tell you
the truth about it as I am not sure anyone else will.
I�m sorry about everything, Hank. I hope you get to read this.
Scott.
Disturbed, Hank carefully folded the note again and replaced it in his
book, and replaced the book on the table, and folded his hands in his
lap and tried to pretend he had never looked over in that direction in
the first place. Still, certain obvious elements remained in mind
despite his attempts to banish them.
First, the omissions from his list of �family.� His blood relations,
for example; but he�d already known they wanted no more of him, and if
it had been Scott�s job to try to tell them Hank was hurt, then Hank
didn�t envy Scott the conversation. The Professor, with whom Scott
obviously had issues. Wolverine, not too surprising. Jean. No longer
one of Scott�s favorites either, was Jean.
A horrible jumble of feelings there. Curiosity about what had happened
with Scott�perhaps she�d found some other way to take her revenge. At
that, a sudden flood of too-vivid memories of helplessness, of
captivity, of...of the whole complex of emotions, good and bad. And
that, the strange combination of hating that he had been powerless to
stop her and hating the part of himself she�d found and manipulated,
left him more than anything, deeply ashamed.
That had been bothering him, of course, for days before they even left
on the mission. Perhaps it had thrown off his concentration, which
would leave him part of the blame for his own predicament now. But his
original problem was back now, and it overwhelmed his puzzlement about
Scott and the mission, his physical discomfort, and his worries about
hair color. He sat quietly musing over this, as he had been doing when
he was physically sound, however long ago that must be, until his next
visitor arrived quite some time later.
This one was Bobby. He was wearing a huge, giddy grin, and carrying
nearly his own weight in CDs and a stereo.
�You�ve gotta be bored in here,� he explained, as he clumsily arranged
his presents nearby and then sat down in the chair near the bed. �I
thought I�d bring you something.�
�It�s very considerate,� said Hank, trying to dismiss his dour
thoughts. �Thank you, Bobby. How is everyone?�
�Great, now that we know you�re okay. We�re just trying not to flood
you all at once.� Then he looked thoughtful. �Well, although I haven�t
seen Jean or Scott lately. Maybe they�re off somewhere making up. That
would be a relief! With them talking and you up and about, we�d have
everything back to normal.�
�Hmm. Yes.� Hank glanced away to hide his expression. �So, what did
you bring me?�
With that, the conversation turned to musicians and their comparative
merit, which was a relief.
***
�You�re gonna have to go and see him sooner or later, Jeannie.�
�Maybe not. I was going to suggest to the Professor that we should pick
up a few more people now, and then we could actually split into two
teams....�
Wolverine shook his head. �Coward�s way out. You�re better than that.�
�Oh, I know.� Jean pressed her weight against the wall, dejected. �But
it�s going to be so hard, Logan. And I don�t know if he�ll be able to
forgive me. Or even if he should.�
�Well, then, I guess you could just stand around feeling sorry for
yourself a while longer. That�s helpful.�
Jean pressed her fingers against her forehead. �You really are a jerk,�
she sighed. �Especially when you�re right.�
Logan chuckled. �C�mon, I�ll walk you there. I�ll even go first.�
***
�So,� said an instantly recognizable growl from the door. �Wasn�t that
more fun than a hologram?�
Hank scoffed. �Oh, assuredly. Let�s try to make it part of our routine
for weekends.� He cranked his bed up to a partially upright position.
�To be honest, I wasn�t expecting you to visit.�
�Y�know, one more comment from you kids about how I�m not a team player
and I�m gonna get hurt feelings.� Logan came and stood next to the
chair, arms crossed, but did not sit down. �Sure I came to visit. It�s
your first big field injury. Ranks right up there with first lay. It�s
important. Wish I remembered mine.�
Hank blinked. �First lay, or first injury?�
Logan frowned. �Either. But we�re talkin� about you. You weren�t too
useless, for a rookie.�
�Well, except for the getting blown up part.�
�So, you�ve learned something about bombs, haven�t you?� A casual
shrug. �You�re not dead. Any landing you can eventually walk away from
is a good landing.�
Hank smiled. �Spoken like a man with a mutant healing factor. Some of
us have to rely on freakish experimental medicine.� He touched a few
fingers to a lock of his hair.
Logan snickered in response. �Kid, if the worst thing that ever happens
to you is your hair turning blue, you�ll be the luckiest mutant I
know.� He glanced sideways, toward the door. �Anyway, Lucky, you�ve
got somebody else waiting outside, so I�m gonna go. I�ll see you
around.� He paced casually out into the hall, where Hank heard him say,
�He�s all yours.�
And then...
And then, it suddenly became very important to look away into the
opposite corner of the room. �Jean,� he said uncomfortably.
�Hello, Hank,� she answered, sounding very uncertain herself. �May I
sit down?�
He couldn�t help himself. �Why do you bother to ask? I can hardly stop
you.�
A moment of very uncomfortable silence. �I deserve that,� she said in a
very quiet voice. �No, then, I�ll stand until you invite me to sit
down. Unless you mean to send me away. But I hope you won�t do that.
I really need to talk to you.�
Sure, Hank thought, and it�s all about what you need, after all. But
then he sighed. He didn�t like feeling so resentful, and he didn�t want
to spend some interminable amount of time later wondering what she had
meant to say. �So you�re giving me the chance to look magnanimous,� he
said, still not looking at her; then he gestured toward the chair.
�Fine, Jean, have a seat. Tell me whatever it is you came here to
say.� He steeled himself for the worst as he listened to her sit down.
�I know you�re angry.� Her voice was shaking, just a little. �And
you�re right to be angry. What I did was the worst thing I could have
done to anyone, let alone my friend. I can�t tell you how many times
the Professor and I have talked about what a serious abuse of power
something like that��
Hank interrupted her, turning to face her for the first time. �You told
the Professor what happened?�
She blushed. �Well, no, I haven�t. I meant that we�ve talked about it
hypothetically.�
�Ah. Go on.�
�I was out of my head mad at Ororo and Scott, and I wasn�t thinking.
And you were being nothing but reasonable and kind, the way you always
are, and�Hank, it�s driving me crazy to think how much I must have hurt
you. But I can�t take it back. All I can do is try to make it right
with you and go forward.� She leaned toward him earnestly. �I really
hope you�ll forgive me, if you can. But I�ll understand if you don�t.�
�Another opportunity to show how mature I am. Really, Jean, you are too
generous.� He looked away again. �Your powers are much more impressive
than I realized. And I never expected to have them turned against me.
To feel you just reach through love and conscience and force me to
express something so��
�Wait. You really were attracted to me?�
He scoffed. �Naturally, Jean. I believe I even mentioned it at the
time. I also mentioned being in love with someone else and not wanting
to pursue anything with you for that reason, but you barely even heard
that at the time, so I�m not surprised if you don�t remember it now.�
�Oh, Hank.� Her voice went soft and concerned, and she reached for his
hand. �Oh, Hank, you�re not feeling responsible for this, are you? You
are. I�m so sorry! But please, you have to know that it�s not your
fault. It�s mine, only mine. If there�s anything I can do to help you
see that��
And then, outrageously, he felt her reaching out to him with her mind.
He pulled his hand away from hers. �Please, Jean,� he snapped, �I
really would rather not have you anywhere near my mind for the
foreseeable future.�
He felt her withdraw. �No,� she said, very quietly. �No, of course
not. Sorry.�
�Yes, I see that you�re sorry.� He looked at her again, relaxed a
little, and sighed. �No, really, I do. So I forgive you, Jean. But I
don�t trust you. I don�t know when I�ll be able to trust you again. So
I want you to stay out of my thoughts.�
She nodded. �I will, Hank.� She looked down at her hands for a minute,
then back up at him. �Are we still friends?�
�Maybe. Eventually. If you begin to treat me like one.�
�Thank you. It means a lot to me. So...have you talked to Ororo yet?�
�Do you mean since I woke up, or since the incident?�
�Either. Both.�
�Well, actually, it�s no either way.� He rubbed the edge of the blanket
between two fingers. �I don�t suppose you and she are on speaking
terms.�
�I�m sure she�ll come to see you. But I should let you rest for a
while�I�m sure this has been a taxing conversation for you.� She gave a
little humorless laugh, and rose to her feet. �Oh,� she added as an
afterthought, �has Scott been in to see you?�
�No, and I suppose this means I�m the only one he gave notice to. He
left the team, Jean. He�s gone.�
She frowned, but said nothing else as she turned to leave. Hank settled
back and tried to let the tension drain out of his limbs.
***
A quick mental search proved that Hank was right; Scott was nowhere
within Jean�s range of perception. But surely, she thought, just off
somewhere (somewhere very far away) worrying about Hank, or his own
self-perceived failure as a leader. Surely not gone for good.
But even as she thought that, she also knew, deeper down, that she was
deluding herself. Especially knowing how deeply Scott felt about his
teammates and his responsibility to them, he would never have gone so
far from them during Hank�s recovery unless he didn�t mean to come back.
Gone. Really gone.
Which only went to show, she supposed, where making up with her fit into
his priorities.
She wondered if the Professor knew, and if she should be the one to tell
him. Oh, no, that was a headache she didn�t need. Not right after such
a hard conversation with Hank. The Professor would find out soon enough
on his own, might already know. Better not to say anything now.
She wondered where Logan had gone.
After another quick scan, she laughed at herself for needing to ask.
Where else?
Out drinking.
***
What did she do to him, anyway?
Logan pondered this again as he ordered another beer. She�d never
really come out and told him what she did to Hank, but whatever it was,
they were obviously both pretty weirded out about it. Which,
considering who she was, probably meant that she�d tweaked his mind
somehow.
Ooh, bad. Bad Jean. Not a team player. Maybe I should teach you how
to be a mercenary.
Hell, he thought, taking a drink, maybe I should teach myself how to be
a mercenary. Because he felt like he was starting to forget everything
he ought to know by now. Like, for instance, how he was not supposed to
invest anything emotionally. But he�d blown that; he was starting to
like these people. These stupid, idealistic kids.
Especially�
Especially the one that was walking in the door in a leather
micro-miniskirt and a spaghetti-strap top. The one that every other guy
in the bar also liked best right at that moment.
Jean.
She sat down next to him and grinned, and it made him laugh. �Don�t
think I�m gonna let you mindtrick your way into free drinks,� he said.
�If you try it, I�ll tell everyone you�re underage.�
�I don�t think you�ll want to do that,� she purred, �when you hear what
I came to tell you. You wanted me to let you know when I made up my
mind."
That startled him; he quickly swigged down the last of his drink and
gave her a severe look. �Does that mean you have?�
Her grin went lopsided, and she looked at him as if he were daft.
�Well, let me give you a hint.� She leaned in toward him, and traced
around the curl of his ear with her tongue.
He drew in a deep breath, and lowered one hand onto her hip. �Are you
sure you know what you�re doing, little girl?� he growled into her ear.
She bit his earlobe, pulled at it a little bit with her teeth, and
wrapped her arms around his neck. �Yep,� she said. �I�m sure.�
�Okay then,� he grinned, using his grasp on her waist to steer her away
from the bar. �I warned you. Let�s go.� He slapped some money onto
the table without counting it, and pushed Jean ahead of him out of the
building.
�There�s a motel three blocks down that way,� said Jean, pointing in the
right direction, as if he wouldn�t know where it was. Or maybe just to
signal her approval of it as a location.
�Well, well,� he chuckled, leading her toward his motorcycle, �and you
did your homework, too.�
�Can you drive?� she asked. �How many beers did you have?�
�Doesn�t matter. I can�t get drunk.�
�Must be nice,� she said. �No DUI tickets, no hangovers.�
�Yeah, but I can�t get drunk. Medications don�t do much for me either,
not that I need �em very often. But now and then a painkiller would�ve
been nice.�
She mounted the bike behind him, pressing her firm, large breasts
against his back in a way he�d have been sorry to give up if they
weren�t going to a motel. But they were, and it was a quick trip.
It really was a crappy place, labeled as �Sleepy Inn� in large, faded
letters that may once have been red. It seemed to have been built in
the fifties, a single-story building shaped like a U, painted some
nondescript color that was hard to identify in the dwindling light.
Anyway half the paint was chipped or worn away. He parked the bike at
the left side of the U, where a ragged-looking woman in skin-tight jeans
and too much makeup was just leaving the last room in the row with a
doughy, balding man. Jean followed Logan silently as he went to pay for
a room.
The man at the counter was even balder and fatter, and missing a foot.
He was perversely compelled to explain, despite their lack of interest,
how he had lost it in a war by stepping on a mine. He waved the stump
at them to illustrate the point that it was, indeed, gone, �blown clean
off.� Then he snickered at them, his breath stinking of whiskey and the
slow ravages of some disease, and squirreled away their $20 as Logan
quickly printed �LOGAN� in the register.
�Logan who?� the old man coughed, glancing at the sheet.
�Why? You expecting a run on Logans tonight?�
Another snicker, followed by more hacking. �Right, never mind. You�ve
got Number 21.� He handed Logan a key attached to a dingy red square of
plastic with the number 21 on it. �We got a vending machine with
drinks. Magic fingers on the beds. And girlie movies after eight
o�clock, but they�re extra. Let me know if you want �em.�
�Uh-huh.� Logan stepped outside again, and took a sharp breath in and
out to clean out the old man�s smell. Jean seemed to do the same; then
they made their way back toward their room, which turned out to be right
next to the one where they had seen the couple. As Logan unlocked their
door, he noticed the same woman coming back to her room again, this time
with a younger, lanky man with bad acne.
Jean noticed this too, raised her eyebrows, smirked knowingly at Logan.
Then she went inside, and he followed.
The room was more or less clean, for this kind of place. Meaning there
were no obvious remnants of other people�s fluids to be seen or smelled
anywhere about. There wasn�t much light provided by the one
yellow-shaded hanging lamp, with its wildly out of fashion gold-plated
chain leading back from the light to the wall. In the back, a small
bathroom, yellow with age. Here, an ugly dark orange shag carpet, worn
through to the boards in places; a visibly lumpy full-size bed on a
simple metal frame; very dark wooden endtables (the obligatory Bible
copy and a phonebook would be here) and on the other side a matching
dresser, on one end of which sat a very small television set.
�Believe it or not,� said Logan, �I�ve seen worse. At least I don�t
smell any rodents.� Traces of an exterminator having been here, yes;
but he didn�t bother her with that.
�Well, that eases my mind,� Jean laughed. �So...� and without another
word, she jumped into his arms and kissed him, pressing tight against
his body. He gladly gathered her toward him, met her already probing
tongue with his. He swept his hands down to her tiny skirt, pulling it
up so that he could hold her by the curves of her ass. But she slipped
away from him, downward onto her knees. Unzipped his pants. Looked up
at him once, with a huge grin on her face. Then she opened her mouth
wide, and in one smooth motion closed in on him completely, every inch
swallowed.
He grabbed her by the hair to hold her there, pulling and pushing to
reinforce her rhythm. Not that she was the least bit timid; she sucked
at him with a kind of reckless abandon that he hadn�t dared to expect
but was thrilled to find in her. She was wild and ravenous with him,
and very soon he could bear no more, and he felt himself coming into her
open throat; and she slowly retreated, tracing along his length one last
time with her tongue as she went.
She smiled up at him again as he stood there, momentarily stunned. Then
she rose to her feet, wiped her face with one hand, and smacked her lips
loudly, and smiled again.
�There,� she said. �We�re even. See you back at the mansion.� And
then she turned toward the door.
�Hey!� he protested, and grabbed her by one arm. �If that was all you
wanted, why did I bother to pay for a room?�
�Tit for tat. Anyway, I admit it might have been nice to do more, but
it�s a little late now. We�ll have to try for another day.�
�Cute, Jeannie. Nice joke. But you have two problems. First, a normal
man really would be done now; and if he was, he wouldn�t mind what he
got for twenty dollars. So you wouldn�t really have been even anyway.�
�A normal man...?�
�Second,� he added, pulling her back toward him now, �I ain�t a normal
man, and I ain�t done.�
He could feel a little tremor through her. �You�re not?�
He pulled her even closer, to murmur his answer into her ear. �Not even
close. Healing factor.�
�Oh. And...um...how much longer do you think you can go?�
�Until you can�t walk straight.�
Another tremor, and she smiled eagerly. �Oh, I like you,� she
whispered.
�Thought you would.� He grabbed her by the waist, and turning, sat her
on top of the dresser, then started to kiss her again. His hands crept
onto her thighs and then up beneath the skirt that was barely covering
her panties�a thong, he could tell by the feel, naughty, naughty
Jean�and pulled the undergarment down. She helped him here, without
pulling away from him, clumsily reaching down and kicking her legs until
she was completely free of the offending garment. Then she happily
spread her legs further and scooted herself up tight against him.
He insinuated one hand between them, holding her in the kiss with the
other, and stroked at her rhythmically until she was wet and open enough
to suit him. Without pulling his hand away, he entered her, and she
gasped and rocked her hips toward him to bring him deeper. Taking this
as encouragement, he went harder with his rubbing and thrusting, still
holding her mouth to his to silence her, knowing she wanted to cry out.
Instead she clawed at his back with increasing passion, panting and
biting at his lips, until she lost control of herself, and started to
shake and squeal helplessly.
At that he withdrew for a moment, to lift her off the dresser and,
turning, lower her onto the bed, instantly on top of her, fingers
tangled now into her short-cropped red hair as he took her again, harder
now than he could do in the other position. Her face was slack, so
deeply immersed in sensation that he could tell there was no
consciousness left except for desire. That excited him even more, and
with a happy growl he grabbed her hips and pounded into her as hard as
he could, nothing held back now, pleased at how she matched him, how she
shrieked and shuddered and dug her nails into his back.
The second release was even better than the first, and when he stopped
moving she flung her arms up over her head and her whole body went limp.
He laughed a little. �You all right, darlin�?� She responded with an
incoherent mumble and a small nod. He moved over to lie beside her,
watching her slowly regain her wits. �Do you need to wait a minute this
time?� he asked.
�Not done?� she muttered, and he shook his head. �Yeah, gimmeaminute.�
�Right.� He zipped up his pants and rose from the bed. �I�ll go get
you a drink from the machine. What do you like? D�you want me to pay
for the movie while I�m out?�
�Mm. Sure. Cola�s fine. Movie�s fine too. I think it�s gonna be a
long night.� She waved him out the door with a giddy, half-delirious
grin.
***
Just as Hank was starting his dinner, a beef stew�it having been
established that he was now in good enough working order to eat solid
food and wander around his room occasionally in slow, creaky
motion�Pyotr came to see him.
�Hurro, Pottr,� Hank mumbled, caught in mid-bite.
�Harry Potter?� Pyotr grinned as he sat down. �Were you hoping I�d
bring you a book?�
�Hello, Pyotr,� Hank repeated, overenunciating.
�Hello. You seem cheerful.�
�Actually, I�m rather blue.� He have Pyotr an amiable smile. �Since
you mention books, could you see if someone would bring me my Chaucer?
I�m more in the mood for that than the Milton someone left me."
�Sure. Kind of heavy reading though, isn�t it, for when you�re supposed
to be resting?�
Hank chuckled. �Actually, it�s my easy reading.� He paused for a
moment, composing his next thoughts. �I�m glad you�re here. I wanted
to thank you. The Professor told me that you and Storm were the ones
who found me and brought me back.�
�Oh. Well, sure. We�re a team, you know, and all that.� Pyotr seemed
to shift in the chair uncomfortably. �That�s not quite the whole story,
though. We couldn�t get you out from under all the rubble, especially
with all the fighting, until Magneto came.�
�You had to fight Magneto?� Hank gaped.
�No. He yelled at us for helping the sapiens, but then he was the one
who uncovered you, and he had his people load you into the car. And
then he let us go.�
Hank blinked several times. �Surely you jest.�
Pyotr shook his head. �It�s true. We all felt like a sorry bunch of
asses, too, after all that. Scott most of all, I guess. He�s
disappeared.�
Hank nodded. �I know. He left a note to that effect, and it said he
was planning to leave the team, I�m afraid.� He thought about what
Pyotr had told him again, and frowned. �So, Magneto scolded you and
then sent us away. I wonder what we would have been told to do, if the
situation had been reversed.�
�Yeah, that�s what all of us wonder. But I�m glad you�re okay, Hank.
We all are. I should probably go and let you eat your dinner, though.�
He rose to his feet.
�Thank you for coming. Have you, ah, seen Ororo lately?�
Pyotr looked thoughtful. �I thought she was planning to come and see
you. Hasn�t she yet?� When Hank shook his head, Pyotr shrugged. �I�m
sure she will.�
�Hmm. People have been telling me that all day. I�m starting to
wonder. Well, never mind, Pyotr, thank you for visiting. Hopefully
I�ll gain release from my convalescence in the next few days, and we can
play darts again.�
�Forget it,� Pyotr laughed. �I�m already doing enough of your chores.
Next time, it�s pool.�
�If you insist,� said Hank, looking as innocent as he could manage.
But he was still left wondering about Magneto, trying to imagine the man
they�d been taught to fear as their worst enemy, instead actually
extricating him from the debris of a major explosion while giving his
friends a lecture on misplaced loyalties.
Would that girl he�d rescued have done the same for him, even if she
could have, mutant that he was? Would she even have called for help?
Or would she have laughed and clapped her hands at the death of one of
the freaks?
Were their loyalties, in fact, misplaced? Scott seemed to have decided
that they were....
His unpleasant train of thought was cut short by Jubilee�s return. �You
haven�t finished your stew,� she chided. �Aren�t you hungry?�
He took one more bite to humor her, although it was cold now. �I
suppose I�m not very,� he said. �Too many thoughts disagreeable to the
stomach, I think.�
�Well,� she grinned, �then you should think about something else. Here,
look at this new trick I�m working on with the Professor.� She raised
her hands, an intense look suddenly taking possession of her face.
Then, a series of multi-colored will-o-wisp lights began to appear,
floating a few inches short of the ceiling. They hovered there,
dappling the room with color�even more so when Jubilee remembered to dim
the main lights of the room.
�Very pretty,� he said.
�Thanks,� she smiled. �I think they�ll last a while, at least they did
in practice. I�m hoping to get it really down cold by Christmas. Save
electricity, you know?�
�Very ecological of you,� said Hank.
�Yep, I�m all about giving,� said Jubilee, gathering up the dishes.
�See ya later!�
Hank sat for a few minutes, under the rainbow of small lights.
�Pretty,� said a woman from the door, and when she came in she was
Ororo. His heart did strange things at the sight of her, ambiguous
things, caught somewhere between love and stress. She sat down in the
chair and pressed a book into his hand. �Your Chaucer,� she said.
�Pyotr said you asked for it.�
�I did, thank you,� he said.
Before he could steel himself up for any of the other things he meant to
say, she leaned in with a coy smile and asked, �Are you bluish?�
�Pardon?�
She leaned back again. �Damn! I was afraid that would be too obscure.
It�s a line from Yellow Submarine. Beatles movie.� She pouted. �Man,
you don�t even want to know how long I spent thinking up what line I was
going to come in here with. Little Boy Blue wasn�t classy enough; Blue
Boy I thought you might like, that being a painting and all, but I
wasn�t sure it would be obvious that I was making that joke.�
He smiled despite his nervousness. �I�m flattered you went to the
trouble.�
She placed one of her hands on one of his. �Well, of course I did,
silly thing. Anyway, I like the look.�
�Thank you.� He took hold of her hand and sighed. �I have a lot to
talk to you about.�
�Mm, I thought you would. Why I wanted to come last, to make sure no
one interrupted.� She cleared her throat uncomfortably. �Now, Hank, I
hope you�ll let me say something first. I�m pretty sure that Jean must
have told you something about me that I�m not sure you�d like. But I
want you to understand��
�You were with Scott before me,� he said. �I know. It doesn�t bother
me, Ororo. It�s not as though we were together then. Although,� he
added, even though he didn�t want to after watching the relief wash
across her face, �it does lead me to a question. I�m wondering how you
feel about, um, monogamy.�
She was quiet for a moment. �I�ll be honest with you, Hank, I haven�t
done it before. I�m not the jealous type myself, and it�s not something
I understand very well. So up to now, I�ve never seen a reason not to
go with my instincts.� She looked at him warmly. �But if you need us
to be exclusive, then we will be. I want you to be comfortable.�
�Ah.� He squeezed her hand. �That won�t be too much of a hardship for
you?�
She laughed. �No, I�m sure I�ll manage somehow. You�re just about
everything a girl could want in one man, you know.�
�You�re too kind.�
�Hmm.� She gazed deeply into his eyes. �That�s not the only thing
that�s wrong, is it?�
�No.� He looked away from her. �Something else happened when I talked
to Jean.�
But he couldn�t bring himself to say what right away, so after a few
moments of silence she took a guess. �Hank,� she whispered, still
holding his hand, �did you have sex with her? I can handle it if you�re
honest with me....�
�No, I didn�t,� he sighed, staring down at his free hand. �I didn�t
want to. She asked me�well, I wouldn�t say asked...and I said no. And
I tried to leave...but then....� The sense of alarm he�d been denied at
the time pounded in his chest and swelled in his throat, threatening to
keep him from saying the rest. It came out in a harsh whisper. �She
tried to use her powers to force me. I was trying to fight her, but it
was...and then she realized what she was doing, and ran away.� He used
his free hand to cover his face.
She squeezed his hand, hard, and didn�t stop. He looked up at her, and
found her face frozen into a strange, bloodthirsty grin.
�That evil little minx,� she snarled through her gritted teeth. �I�m
gonna kill her.�
�Don�t,� he said softly, though somewhat relieved by her reaction, at
least so far. �She�s already been in to apologize. I�m not comfortable
with her yet, but I don�t want a scene.�
�No, Hank,� Ororo protested. �You�re far too kind�it�s something I love
about you, but I can�t just stand back and let her get away with doing
something like that to you. We shouldn�t even be on the same team with
such a��
�Ororo!� Hank pleaded, taking her hand between both of his. �Ororo,
please. Scott�s already gone, and everyone is on edge. I don�t want
this to destroy the rest of the team. Please.�
She blinked at him. �You think it�s your own fault.�
�No I don�t.� As she looked at him in bald skepticism, he broke down.
�Not entirely. But she did find something there to work with, I can�t
lie about that. I�m sorry.�
�Sorry for what? For being young and male? Of course she found
something to work with. How could she not? She�s hot, and you�ve got a
normal healthy libido. That doesn�t make it your fault, Hank. And it
doesn�t make me think a bit less of you, if that�s what you�re worried
about.�
�Ah.� He paused. �It was a concern.�
�It shouldn�t be.� She gave him a light kiss on the cheek, but then
evaded his attempt to hold her. �Hang on there. I�ve been thinking
about this pretty lighting, and I see Bobby�s box over there...hold on a
minute.� She walked over to the CD player, browsed through discs for a
moment, and then pulled out a few, grinning, and put them into the
machine.
�I�m shocked he had some of this stuff,� she said, standing at the foot
of the bed. �Not the typical collection at all. Weird little DJ kid.�
Then she stopped talking, because her first selection was cued up.
Hank was shocked too. �Tell me,� sang Cyndi Lauper, �where is Little
Boy Blue? You�ll find him standing always one step ahead. Fast a
little, shy a little, Boy Blue....�
�Very funny,� said Hank.
�Had to be done. Sorry. Give it a minute.�
He did. Only part of the song played; then the next began, this one
sounding like a perky dance club sort of number. And accordingly, Ororo
started to dance. She was surprisingly free of any self-consciousness,
ponying and gyrating playfully in front of a hospital bed to what turned
out to be a remake of a song from the fifties:
�Who�s peeking out from under a stairway calling a name that�s lighter
than air, who�s bending down to give me a rainbow, everyone knows it�s
Windy! And Windy has stormy eyes that flash at the sound of lies, and
Windy has wings to fly above the clouds....�
�I didn�t know before,� said Hank, �what a wit you are.�
�Why thank you,� she grinned, artfully tossing her hair as she continued
to move.
The next song was slow and sultry, and another bit of Ororo�s sense of
humor.
�Don�t know why there�s no sun up in the sky, stormy weather....�
But her perverse song choices became much less interesting in comparison
to the turn her dance was taking. Because now she slowly raised her
tight T-shirt up over her head, and playfully dropped it to the floor.
This revealed a leopardskin print bra, which went next. She swayed for
a moment with her arms over her head, making the most of the way her
dark breasts swung gently in time with her movements.
He could feel his body starting to respond. �Ummmmm, Ororo?�
�Ssh.� She brought down her hands by sweeping them down the length of
her body, stopping at the top button of her shorts. This she undid,
then reached into them with one hand and mimed rubbing at herself for a
minute (and by now he was definitely responding) before turning her back
to him and slowly inching them down over her legs and onto the floor.
She rose very slowly from this, giving him a good long time to admire
her from the rear, and again sweeping her hands up along her legs,
cheeks, and hips, to lead his eyes.
He refused to check, but imagined that his erection had to be visible by
now. He tried to fold his hands decorously over it.
Naked, she prowled to the side of the bed, accompanied now by the
opening strains of Riders on the Storm. �I�d like to get into bed with
you,� she murmured. �Would that be all right with you?�
�That�s a ridiculous question.�
She laughed. �Well, I wanted to make sure.� She climbed into the bed,
straddling him carefully. Because he was leaned up at an angle, he
could lie back with her sitting upright, and still have his face close
to hers.
He stroked her face with one hand. Weakly, he laughed at himself. �I
want you,� he confessed, his eyes transfixed to hers, �but I�m afraid
I�ll break something.�
�Don�t worry,� she whispered. �I�ll do everything. Lie back and
relax.�
But oh, he couldn�t, not when she lowered herself onto him and took him
into her, and started rocking her hips gently, wisping her hair into his
face. He gasped, reached out to clutch at her back and her hair, tried
to pull her in for a kiss, leaned forward to meet her�
She pushed him back. �No, no,� she grinned, taking both his hands in
hers to control them. She pinned his arms back among the pillows. �I
said don�t move.�
And she continued to ride him that way, slowly, her tight silken caress
and her hold on his arms the only contact she allowed him. It was safer
for him that way, he knew, even as he slowly grew more crazed at
watching her breasts bobbing with her movements, mere inches away,
knowing that he was not allowed to touch them. Letting her hold him
down, resisting the urge to move under her, was driving him insane.
�Faster,� he pleaded. She smiled and shook her head, squeezing his
hands lovingly as, perverse creature, she actually slowed down instead.
�Then kiss me,� he whispered. �At least that. Please.�
Charmed by his desperation, she leaned in and touched her mouth gently
to his. At that, he suddenly broke free of her grasp and clutched her
in his great arms, holding her to him as he thrust into her with every
ounce of available strength, much harder and faster than she had been
allowing him to go, his mouth pressed tight over hers to stifle the
moans both were struggling to make.
He ended abruptly with two contrasting waves of sensation: one firey
and loving and wonderful, the second jagged and sharp and very, very
unpleasant. He collapsed back into the bed, still holding her, the last
of his energy willed into his arms.
�Ow,� he whispered into her hair. �Ow, ow, ow.�
She playfully bapped him on the head. �I told you not to move, dummy.�
�I know. Ow. But it was worth it. I think.� A pause. �Ow.�