**********************************************************************
"Richard" is my own
creation.
A/N: Humor fic. Women everywhere
have been there. Now it's 'Ro's turn...
*********************************************************************
This was what she remembered.
For some reason, everyone thought
it would be a good idea to go to Harry's on a Friday night. Blowing off steam
sounded like the perfect plan--after all, the week had been a killer, with all
the missions halfway around the world and the pockets of super villains running
around. Finally they'd had some peace. Finally, someone wasn't trying to kill
them. Finally, some much needed downtime.
So why wasn't she happy?
Ororo Munroe played with the base
of her wine glass and eyed the crowd. Her lips hardened a little, which no one
noticed. Jean and Scott. Remy and Rogue. The Professor and Lilandra, who
conveniently dropped by Friday morning, just in time for "date night."
Hank and Trish. Betsy and Warren. And, she thought, allowing her lips to curl in
a small sneer, Bobby and one of his many concubines.
She grunted disgustedly,
and Logan cautiously gazed at her. "You okay, darlin'?"
Her face brightened.
"Never better, Logan. Why do you ask?"
He stared at her a little
harder, in that disconcerting way that said, 'I know you're lying.'
Logan shrugged and stuck
his cigar back in his mouth. His eye roved the crowed tavern, settled on a
blonde with more cleavage than Dolly Parton, and his lips crinkled
appreciatively. "No reason," he said, rising from the table. He patted
her on the shoulder when he left. "Go have some fun, 'Ro. Quit playin'
Super Leader, for once."
She watched him move
through the center of the crowd and tap the woman on the shoulder. She giggled
like a Barbie doll and bobbed her head, as if Logan had used one of his
award-winning pickup lines on her.
Which you know he did,
she thought. But no, he won't use them on me. Unless to tease me. The
thought made her angry enough to slap the wine glass over, where it spilled
across the table.
"Ooh, 'Ro--"
"Forgive me,
Jean," she said quickly, and wiped the spill with her napkin before it
spread across the table and into her lap. "I was...distracted."
"Apparently so,"
she said.
"You okay?" Scott
asked. He wasn't really asking, though. Jean was in his lap, and his head was
buried in her hair. Ororo wasn't sure if he was asking the question of her, or
of Jean.
"Perfectly,"
Ororo said. She rose from the table. "I am going to refill my drink. Would
you like anything?"
"No," Scott said
with a small smile. "I've got all I need right here."
Ororo left the table, but
not without hearing an appreciative giggle. It sounded like the Barbie doll
across the room.
Ororo, you stop that right now,
she chided. Green is Rogue's color, not yours.
She placed her empty wine
glass on the bar counter with a sigh, and waited her turn. She glanced at the
bar mirror and decided that the brown face in the mirror was pretty.
Conservative and reserved, but still pretty. So what if she didn't throw herself
at men like a bone to starving dogs? Perhaps she had some strict standards, but
did that make her untouchable? A pariah? What was so wrong with Ororo Munroe
that even the hormonally-charged X-males wouldn't touch her with a ten-foot
pole?
"What'll you have,
beautiful?"
Ororo started at the
bartender's voice. "Am I beautiful?" She immediately clamped her lips
shut. She hadn't meant to utter her thoughts out loud.
"Sure! Every girl at
that table's a babe." His lips curled lustfully. She didn't like that look,
and her face hardened into her typical, protective mask.
"Thank you for the
complement," she said dryly. "I would, however, like some
service."
The bartender's demeanor
changed to a professional one, getting the 'Do Not Touch' signal he knew so
well. He nodded at her glass. "No problem. Would you like a refill?"
"Y--"
Ororo stopped the word on
her tongue when she caught the array of multi-colored bottles around the bar.
No, she wasn't a drinker. Not even close. But tonight, a spritzer wouldn't do
it. She wondered...would she dare?
She leaned in closer to the
bartender and briefly glanced over her shoulder, as if afraid her friends and
teammates would catch her in an illegal act. "Can you make some
recommendations?"
He planted his elbows on
the table and was inches from her face. His voice was a low, conspiratorial
whisper. "What kind of recommendations?"
"I need
something...stronger. Something special."
His lips curled again, but
without the lust. More like a devilish leer. Goddess, it felt like she was
making a deal with the devil himself. "How special do you want it?"
Ororo's eyes narrowed.
"Blow me away."
The bartender had the
audacity to laugh at her. "Lady, I know you. You don't have anything
stronger than spritzers when you come in here. If I gave you anything stronger,
they'd have to carry you out on a stretcher. You're still in the puppy
pack."
His words made her angry,
and even more determined. She stabbed her finger at Logan's blonde, and waggled
her finger at the woman's drink. "That. Give me what she's having."
"Whoa, those things
are the kiss of death for newbies. I don't think--"
"Four. No, five,"
Ororo said, pounding the table. "I want five of those. Line them up on the
counter."
"What, like in the
movies?" The bartender shook his head. "I'll only tell you once.
You'll be on the floor before you get through the second one."
Ororo pursed her lips.
"Is that a challenge?"
"No, it's a
promise." His eyebrow rose. "You think you're ready to run with the
big dogs?"
"Try me."
"You got someone to
take you home?"
She waved an impatient hand
over the groups of couples. "One of them might remember me, once they come
up for air. But I will be fine."
The bartender bit his
bottom lip, and Ororo couldn't tell if he was looking stern or stifling a laugh.
"Okay, okay. But I warned you, right? Don't come here in a few days lookin'
to put my head on a pike."
"You are absolved of
all repercussions."
"Uh, huh." He
sighed. "I'll believe that when I see it." He paused, waiting for her
to change her mind, but she simply folded her arms and glared at him. He
shrugged. "Fine, you asked for it. Five Long Island Ice Teas, comin'
up."
*
* *
The bartender--Richard, was
it?--told her to take it slow, but she felt defiant and rebellious. Forget him.
She needed this. She remembered a conversation she'd had with Remy once, after
one of his typical poker nights piqued her curiosity. He looked like death
warmed over, and she had told him so. "Don't knock it if you ain't tried
it, Stormy," he sneered at her. "Sure, it's hell in the mornin', but
it's a great ride down."
Well. She wanted to know
just what this "great ride" meant, and she was determined to find out
as quickly as possible. She sucked the fourth drink in record time, not
bothering to check how fast she downed the other three. She had waited for the
others to kick in, but when nothing happened after two minutes, she had decided
that her metabolism was probably on a par with...Wol--oh.
"2...1," Richard
counted. "It should hit you just about now. How're you feeling?"
He actually looked
concerned. What a nice man. "Fine," she said slowly. The room suddenly
tilted and everything went in slow motion.
Richard waved a hand in
front of her eyes, and she reacted with the slowness of a turtle.
"Yep," he
grinned. "You're toasted."
"I b'lieve the bet was
for five." Her tongue didn't work. When did that happen?
"You don't need
another one."
She went to smack her hand
on the table, and missed. Richard caught her before her chin hit the counter.
"Did I, or did I not ask for five?"
"You did. If you're
still standin' in a half-hour, come back, and we'll see."
Ororo nodded. Sounded
rational. Sort of. "Umm. I see. Now what?"
"If I were you, I'd
stay planted on that stool the rest of the night and wait for my friends to take
me home. But y'know, I don't think you'll take my advice. You're too
hard-headed."
Ororo laughed, but it
sounded like a snort. Very un-ladylike. She slurped her empty drink and stared
at the ice in it. "Bobby? You in there?"
Richard snickered and put
the glass down. "Trust me. Stay seated and don't move a muscle. You'll feel
better about it."
"Ooh okay," Ororo
cooed. She squinted, just able to make out the spiked hair and brutish frame
headed her way. "Look. It's my friend. Whatsisface."
Logan came over to her
other side and frowned at her strangely. What was the deal with his eyebrows,
anyway? She stared at them for a long time, observing their strange contours.
How odd. How very odd. And his hair--! Goddess, why hadn't she noticed it
before?
"Uh, 'Ro--?"
It took a few seconds to
hear him. "Hmm, Logan?"
He nodded at the four empty
glasses in front of her. "You been drinkin'?"
"Just having
fun," she said slowly. She wanted her words to make sense, and it became
increasingly difficult. "Just like you told me to."
He glanced at the
bartender. "What's the damage, Rich?"
"Long Island Ice
Teas," Richard told him solemnly. To Ororo, it sounded like they were
discussing a horrible train wreck. "Four of 'em. She wanted five."
"Oh, shit."
"If I can stay
standing," she said proudly, "I can have another."
" 'Ro, you don't need
another one. You need a nice, comfy bed. Preferably now."
"I thought you'd never
ask," she sighed lustily. She grabbed his neck and pulled him close,
surprising him. "Take me, you rugged mountain man."
*
* *
The birds. O Goddess. They
sounded like firecrackers outside her window.
"Too loud. Go
away."
Before she had a chance to
adjust to their sound, a gentle knock landed on her door, and it sounded like a
cannon.
"Go away."
Her own voice was too loud.
What happened? Did she have the flu? Was this the flu?
The door creaked open and
she covered her head with her pillow. Much too loud. Every noise was a miniature
gunshot.
"Um...Storm?"
Storm buried her head in
the pillow. "Go away, Jean."
Jean didn't listen. The
telepath snuck next to her bedside and placed a bowl of soup and crackers on her
nightstand. She gently sat next to her friend and patted her back. "You
look awful."
"How kind of you to
notice. Now leave me alone. Let me die in peace."
"Drink some soup,
first. You need to put some liquids back into your body."
"No."
"Do it, or I'll force
you."
"You wouldn't."
"Try me."
Angry, Ororo sat up
quickly. She immediately wished she hadn't. "Oh, cr-"
Jean bolted off the bed and
rushed her friend to the bathroom. They made it, but only barely. After a few
minutes of painful, disgusting noises, Jean telepathically turned on the sink
and grabbed a washcloth. As her friend retched in the toilet, Jean rubbed her
back sympathetically. "'Ro, I think last night was the dumbest thing I've
ever seen you do."
The cool cloth rubbed the
nape of Ororo's neck and cleared the residue from her chin. Ororo was grateful
for the help, but embarrassed at the same time. She was only glad it was Jean in
the room with her. Anyone else...she shuddered. She leaned her head against the
cold porcelain, thinking how wonderful it would be to stay next to it the rest
of the day. "I agree. Dumb. Very dumb."
Jean giggled. If it didn't
hurt to turn her head, she would have glared at her best friend. "Not to
say that I didn't have my turn in college, but I grew out of it. Now you know
how it feels."
"How can Remy bear
it?"
"I have no idea."
Jean sighed and gently helped Ororo to her feet. "One bad turn was enough
for me. Ready for some soup?"
Ororo groaned.
"I know nothing sounds
good right now, but the soup will do you good. Now c'mon, let's get you back to
the land of the living."
Ororo swallowed the bile
coating her throat but obeyed her friend. At least Jean wasn't laughing at her.
She imagined the others were snickering behind her back. She hoped she hadn't
done irreparable damage to the team, and she hoped they still trusted her to
lead them in battle. Goddess, Jean was right. She had done a very stupid thing.
"Jean, I need to
know."
Jean took the soup and
forced it through Ororo's lips. After a few swallows, Ororo realized how good it
tasted and sipped it on her own.
"What, hon'?"
"How big of a fool did
I act last night? I remember..." She made a face. "The last thing I
remember was making a pass at Logan."
Jean rubbed the bridge of
her nose and looked uncomfortable. "That's it, huh?"
Ororo paused in mid-sip.
"Is there more I should remember?"
Jean's eyes twinkled
mischievously as she gave her best friend a quick shoulder rub. "You could
say that. And for what it's worth, before your memory kicks in--if it ever
does--I'm sorry we've all treated you like dirt."
Storm choked on the soup.
"I said that?"
"That, and other
things. But you didn't say 'dirt.'"
"Oh, Goddess."
Jean smiled. "We
probably deserved it, but I honestly never thought you could get that mad."
Ororo cringed, and a look
of horror flashed across her face. "Goddess, the weather--!"
"No, it was fine.
Honest," Jean said, holding up a hand. "I think your powers muted
proportionally to the amount of alcohol in your bloodstream. You gave Logan and
Remy quick little electric shocks, but that's about all you could muster."
"I used my powers
against my teammates in anger?"
"And your tongue. But
you'll find that out later, if any of them are speaking to you."
Ororo gasped and Jean
laughed at her. "Kidding, kidding." She took the soup from Ororo's
fingers and placed it on the bedside. "We all deserved it, trust me. In
fact, I think a few of them finally feel a little ashamed of themselves."
"Still," Ororo
said softly. "I had no right. I must apologize at once."
A small smile played at the
redhead's lips. "Get some more rest, if you need it. But you probably don't
need to apologize as much as you think."
*
* *
Despite what Jean said,
Storm couldn't go back to sleep, especially when she realized she had already
slept half the day. Fortunately it was Saturday, but still...she had never been
one to stay in bed after 7am. 8am was "sleeping in" for her, and
noon--! Absolutely unthinkable.
She dreaded seeing her
teammates. After taking her time enjoying the cool water from her shower, she
gulped a few aspirin and resigned herself to a day in the woods. They would
expect her in her greenhouse, or flying in the air, but she rarely spent her
time in the forests behind the mansion. The longer she spent away from her
teammates, the better. She'd talk to them only when she felt comfortable enough
to wear her "goddess" persona again.
She decided to sit on the dock
and take in the trees and the gentle noises surrounding the pond. Right now,
they sounded more peaceful than laughter. Her heart sank. Maybe, too, she should
rethink her qualifications. Perhaps she should step down as an X-Men leader.
Unfortunately, she forgot that
Logan liked the woods, too.
"Hey, darlin,'" Logan
chuckled, and Ororo jumped. She should have heard him walking down the dock, but
everything in her was off by a few degrees. Blast that hangover.
"Logan," she said
stiffly. He settled in beside her and took a cigar from his pocket. But at the
sick look on her face, he put it carefully back.
"What a night, huh?"
She straightened and cleared her
throat. "I wouldn't know."
He wiggled his eyebrows at her.
"What, I ain't yer 'mountain man' no more?"
Ororo covered her eyes in shame.
"Logan, please do not tease me. I acted like an utter fool. Worse, I cannot
remember anything after...after I called you those accursed words."
Logan grinned and wrapped his
arms around her shoulders. "Heh. I was flattered, 'Ro. Don't let it getcha
down. 'Sides, you had a lot more 'words' for me last night. Mountain man was
definitely the nicest."
She peeked through her fingers.
"I am afraid to ask."
"Well, lessee..." He
ticked off his fingers. "Asshole, son of a bitch, bastard...oh, an' my
personal favorite: Toad-faced, shit-sucking moron. There were a few others, but
that one took some thinkin' on yer part."
Ororo shuddered. "Will you
ever forgive me?"
" 'Course I will. Chuck on
the other hand, well..." He shrugged. She looked up horrified, and he
tweaked her chin. "I laughed my ass off. Drunk or sober, you always make
people think twice 'bout who they are."
Ororo saw a strange flicker in
his eye, but she didn't pursue it. "Logan, I am a prized ass." She
placed her head on his shoulder and enjoyed the sound of the laugh in his chest.
She didn't mind him laughing at her, as long as he wasn't angry with her.
"Darlin', you simply told
the truth 'bout what was in yer heart for so long. 'Bout time."
She blinked. The truth--? Surely
not. She hoped she didn't say what she thought she said. She carefully took her
head from his chest and he helped her sit up. "Regardless, Logan, I have a
lot to apologize for, to everyone. I will understand if I am no longer welcomed
as a leader of the team."
Logan shook his head. "I
think yer even more welcome than ever. The goddess came down off 'er cloud, and
we saw the human underneath. It's been a while. It's been too long."
Ororo sighed. "I still had
no right to take my frustrations out on everyone else."
"Maybe. Or maybe they just
needed t'see yer frustrations so they'd stop takin' you for granted."
Ororo shook her head tiredly.
"Will I never live down last night? Tell me everything you remember, Logan.
Perhaps then I can prepare myself for the laughter in the hallways."
"Well, there was that one
thing..."
"Tell me. Please, I beg you.
Tell me, no matter how embarrassing you think it is."
Logan scratched the back of his
neck. "You sure 'bout this? I swore everyone to secrecy on it. We weren't
gonna tell you."
Her eyes narrowed, and a clap of
thunder echoed across the pond. "Logan, all of my faculties have returned.
If you do not tell me, I swear--"
"All right, all right. But I
warned ya." He grunted. "Didn't even think you knew the song."
"Logan--!"
He grinned at her. "You did
this Marilyn Monroe number."
"What--?"
"Sang that song, 'I wanna be
loved by you,' or somethin'. You know, that cartoon girl sings it."
Ororo swallowed. "Betty
Boop."
"Yeah. That one. You stood
up on the table--"
"I did not!"
"You did. Stood up as big as
life, pretendin' to do a striptease while runnin' yer fingers up an' down yer
body and in yer hair. 'Course Remy and Bobby egged ya on. Remy threw money at
ya, and Rogue hit 'im. Chuck an' Hank had enough sense to look embarrassed. I
think Warren actually clapped."
Ororo wanted to hide under the
dock. "Good Goddess."
"Heh. I thought it was kinda
funny myself. And cute."
She stood up, suddenly furious.
"Oh really, Logan? Did you throw money at me as well? Did you egg me
on?"
Logan shook his head. His face
was only somewhat teasing, but mostly serious. "No, darlin'. I didn't do a
thing. I didn't, 'cause you weren't singin' it to nobody else but me."
Ororo swayed a little and Logan
helped her sit back down. "Well, you asked fer it. That was probably the
worst. 'Cept when you planted yer foot on my chest in the middle of yer song.
That was a little...weird."
"I am...I am so sorry for
embarrassing you like that, Logan."
"Only feel sorry for yerself
if you didn't mean it."
Ororo swallowed. He knew her
secret. If he didn't understand it before, he sure did now. Well, she couldn't
undo the past. She just hoped that there wouldn't be too many awkward moments
and they could remain friends. "Logan, I--"
She stopped suddenly because his
lips were uncomfortably close to hers. He was tasting her, tasting the foulness
of last night, and yet something more. He nudged her cheek with his nose. His
chin scraped her lips. His lips...his lips...Oh--
They kissed, and Ororo couldn't
imagine something so wonderful happening again. But then he stopped and looked
at her, really looked deep into her startled blue eyes, and softly repeated the
kiss. She closed her eyes and kissed him back and last night's troubles faded to
the back of her mind.
"Thanks fer wakin' me up,
goddess," he whispered in her ear. "I needed the shake."
"No problem," Ororo
said, stunned. She honestly couldn't think of anything else to say. "I...I
guess this ended well after all..."
Logan chuckled and wrapped his
arms around her body. He sighed deeply, enjoying how she fit in the folds of his
arms. Ororo stole a look at his face and was surprised to see the grin that
split the sides of his mouth. Was it actually her doing? It was the first time
in a long time she'd seen such happiness there.
"Yeah, I'd say so. Or maybe
y'could say it's beginning well."
A slow smile crept across Ororo's
lips, threatening to spread as wide as Logan's. "Beginning well...I like
the sound of that. Perhaps," she began teasingly, "I should get drunk
more often."
Logan burst out laughing.
"Not on my watch, honey. Hank'd shoot you first. Then Rogue."
Her brow furrowed. "What?
What did I say to them that--?"
She never got to finish. Logan
turned her back around and caressed her face with his rough hand. She sighed,
remembering how she dreamed of this moment. Remembering the hard, lonely times
her heart ached in its emptiness.
"It ain't important."
"No, it's not," she
echoed. They kissed again, and yesterday's regret suddenly became tomorrow's
possibilities.