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“Oh God!” Standing at the foot of her bed, staring helplessly at the pile of clothes built up on it, Ororo jumped at the ringing of the bell, letting out an exclamation that had just about as many part of yelping in it, as it had of groaning.

*Ding Dong*

There it went again and maybe it was her ears playing tricks on her but it was as if the chime actually sounded…Apologetic? Almost as if it was saying, ‘I am sorry mistress. I know that you haven't finished, or even got anywhere closing to it in getting ready for the evening. Had it been in my control I would have retained my silence and let this insolent interloper stand here waiting for your Excellency to get her butt in gear and actually settle on one damn outfit.’

“Okay, that was just wrong,” Ororo cringed, not only was she ‘talking’ to the doorbell but was also finding it acceptable to have the puny admonish her on her indecisiveness. “As if the mirrors, closets, boots, shoes and just about everyone…everything else wasn’t doing it already.”

“Wear...I mean, you could-should pro’ally wear somethin’ comfortable.” Not for the first time that hour or for that matter, that evening, the snow haired Ororo repeated those three damn words, complete with the accent with which they were originally voiced. ‘Easy for him to say.’

Returning home after seeing off Amiko with Jubilee, Ororo should have been more than a little surprised at having a voice message waiting on her house phone on her. After all, it wasn’t like Logan did not have her cell phone number just as she his. Still, even though it was prerecorded and not live, it was nice to hear his voice, that molassessy rumble that she had come to associate only with him and complete with those ‘too stubborn to let go even after more than ten years of being in the US’ Canadianisms that came along with it.

Hmm, it was so…

*Ding Dong*

‘…so time to open the door and let him in.’

---

“Mr. Howlett. Mr. James Howlett?”

“Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Steve Rogers and I am private detective.”

---
Earlier in the evening,

“Comfer-ugh-uh-Comfortable. Comfortable? Comfer…uh….hmm…” Standing inside walk-in closet, still dressed in her school-time ‘Ms. Monroe’ tighty-whities, one hand at her forehead the other sifting through the line of clothing on hanging in display in front of her, Ororo scrunched her nose trying to find something, anything in her wardrobe to fit both her definition of date-attire as also Logan’s request of something comfortable.

“Cannot wear this,” she muttered, shaking her head and disregarding the semi-…more like, three-quarters formal combo.

“Nope, not that either.” Even though she did not know what exactly Logan had meant by comfortable or even why he asked her dress that way, one thing Ororo was sure off. He definitely wasn’t going to take her to see the opera.

“NO! Definitely not. No way. Uh-huh.” One glance at her next choice and a shudder ran down her spine as he Nubian beauty berated herself for getting chumped into not only wearing but actually paying from her own hard earned money for the ‘bimbo’ ensemble before her. ‘Ugh. What was I thinking?’ She had bought it from her first paycheck or rather was forced to buy it by the three ‘tittering sirens’, Lila, Calypso and the worst of the trio, Yukio. Once, only once had she worn it and the night she had it on, Ororo had spent the entire time checking every minute or so, about whether it was still covering her behind or had it ridden up to her waist. That’s how short it was.

“Thank god those three are not here right now, especially Yukio. She would have had a field day at this.” Ororo breathed a sigh of relief. With Lila splitting her time between her three recording studios in London, the new one in Toronto and her husband, Sam’s family ranch in Kentucky, it has been months since Ororo last met. Who would have guessed, that the happy go lucky Lila Cheney would one day not only become THE Lila, businesswoman extraordinaire but also, Lila Guthrie, wife of Horticulturist, Dr. Sam Guthrie, and in a few months Mama to their soon to be born daughter.

As for Calypso and Yukio, who knew where the two of them were. Airhostesses, both of them, the duo were still sharing the same SoHo apartment that they had been in for the last five years. As far as Ororo knew, except for the odd fling here or there, or as it was Yukio’s mantra on that subject, ‘Just about anywhere’, neither of them seemed to be in a hurry to get into a committed relationship let alone leave their pad.


Shaking her head to clear the nostalgic thoughts crowding it, Ororo ran a hand through her hair and stepped forward to resume her search for ‘something comfortable’. Damn.

---

“It-It’s about...Is there someplace we can talk, in private.”

“Very well. It’s about your past. Your family.”

---

A couple of seconds to unlock it and a couple more to garb the knob and turn it, and the door was open, both the physical, the tangible one as also the one that had been so stubbornly locked within Ororo’s mind. One look at Logan and she knew what she was going to wear.

‘Should have known,’ a smile formed on her face as having stepped down to the foot of the porch stairs, Logan turned around to greet her. ‘When he said comfortable, he really did mean comfortable.’

“Hey.” The clad in a pair of clean and still relatively new jeans, a tight white T-shirt peeking out from between the open top-button of a thick (pastel and not checked…this time) cotton shirt, with a brown leather jacket over it, Logan stepped back up the two steps leading to the front door. Though happy to see Ororo, he was a bit taken aback when she opened the door clad in a robe, its sash tightly tied at her waist. Taken aback because this was a first that Ororo wasn’t already ready by the time he came to pick her up. An’ why was she looking at him that way?

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“What? Oh. Nothing. Nothing at all.” Embarrassed at having being caught ogling, Ororo shook her head, stumbling on her words as she stepped back in invitation. “Please come in.”

“I ain’t early, am I?” Logan lifted his arm to check the time. Heck, the daylight saving change was still a couple of weeks away. Maybe he got the time wro…

“No, no.” Ororo rested his arm with a slender hand and yes, there it was again. The electrical charge she felt whenever she came into physical contact with this man. “It’s I who is late. Had some work leftover.” ‘Better go in for a believable lie,’ she decided.

“Oh. ‘kay.” Logan nodded, suddenly reconsidering his decision of going in for the denim jeans. Already snug, things had just gotten tighter…and more than a little.

“Please come in.” Closing the door behind them, Ororo led her guest, ‘No,’ she corrected herself, led her date to the living room. Once seated and the perfunctory offers of ‘Something to drink?’ dispended with, she stepped back. “Just give me five-ten, yes, ten minutes.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Logan nodded wanting her to leave so that he could fix…reposition himself. Goddamn. “Take as much time as ya want. We ain’t in a hurry.”

---

“Before I begin, can I ask you a question?”

“How much do you remember of your childhood? Of your family?”

---

A quick change and ten minutes later the two of them stepped out the front door with Ororo trailing behind Logan locking the door behind her but not before activating the house security system.

“Where did you…” she trailed away, her eyes going wide at the sight before her. “No.”

“Huh?” Thinking that maybe he had missed something Ororo said, Logan looked up from the driver’s seat. “You say something?”

Keeping busy by flipping through the channels, hearing the click of heels on the hardwood floor he had shot to his feet, smiling satisfactorily at seeing Ororo’s choice of attire. Dressed in hip-hugging denim with a zipped to the top black leather jacket she looked set for the night he had planned for them, starting with the mode of transportation, his trusty, freshly washed and polished, Harley-Davidson.

“No.” Ororo shook her head. “Are-Are we going on…that?”

‘Well, set she ain’t,’ Logan chuckled at the look of disbelief on the her beautiful face. ‘Eh. At least she got the wear right.’

“Yeah,” he gave a nod extending a hand towards her, or rather the helmet held in it. “Here. You’ll need ta put this on.”

Even as she took the proffered helmet, Ororo gulped down to dry her suddenly choked throat. “L-Logan. I-this might not be a good idea.”

“Ororo?” Logan stopped mid-action, his own helmet held just above his head. “You okay?”

“What? Yes. Sure. Everything is all right.” Only it wasn’t, not from where Ororo stood, images of falling and then skidding on the rock hard and just as abrasive asphalt flashing through her mind, the memory of the pain almost a decade old getting refreshed. It had been with Scott, his first ever bike…and her first and only bike ride. Until now. “Le-Let’s go.”

Grabbing at her floundering confidence Ororo stepped up to the bike, put the helmet, strapped it in place, clenched her eyes shut, lifted one leg over onto the other side and almost fearfully lowered herself onto the cool leather. A push of a button the engine growling to life, and Ororo quickly upgraded that ‘almost’ to ‘most definitely’.

---

“No Mr. Howlett- What? Logan?”

“Mr. Logan, I do not mean any harm to you or to your family. In fact it’s for them that I am here.”

---

By the time the duo pulled into the parking lot (or whatever passed as one) of wherever Logan had brought them too, the fear or even the memory that had brought it up were nowhere on Ororo’s mind. In its place was a buzz, both in her as well as all through her body, all of it aimed towards and in turn rising from just one thing. Arousal. The vibrations from the engine seeping through the soft leather, the warmth radiating from Logan…his back at her front, his legs next to her own, his chest under her grasping hands, it all made for a heady concoction, one that had Ororo squirming in her seat, both while on the bike on the ride over as also for quite some time after they had made their way inside.

As for the place, though it was her first time here and even though it was miles away (both literally as well as socially) from of the usual country clubs, exclusive restaurants and other ‘star’ establishments, Ororo soon found herself at ease and enjoying the ambiance. Or maybe it was the company that made it easier.

They had just finished with their dinner and were lounging with a couple of drinks…well, at least Logan was. As for Ororo, having polished off three cocktails, she was feeling more than a wee bit tipsy, something that gave her the strength to do what she did next.


Pushing herself out of her side, she stood up and extended a hand to confused Logan. “Dance?”

“Huh?” He had thought that she was to the bathroom or something. Dance? Him? Was she crazy? ‘Fuck,’ Logan cursed internally. ‘Shouldn’ta let her have that last one.’

“Would you...” One hand landed flat on the table and Logan found himself staring eye to swell with something very…swelly, as Ororo leaned in closer. “…like to dance with me?”

“Uh, Ororo-” better get her to sitdown.

“Please.”

‘Bummer.’

“Jus-Just one, ‘kay?” Daring a glance towards the near empty dancing area, Logan was both thankful as well cursing that he had brought Ororo her today of all days. In keeping with their ‘special’ for each day of the week, the owner had deemed today as ‘Family Wednesday’. That meant not only was the crowd today kinda sober, it also meant that the music was in keeping with the ‘day’, which in meant mostly soft instrumental. ‘At least it ain’t ‘Country Saturday’.’ He consoled himself. There was no way he would listen let alone move his legs to that hick crap.

“Yes.” Ororo practically pulled him out. It had been so long since she danced and even though she was pretty sure that Logan wasn’t one to usually dance, his agreeing gave her the one opening that she was so looking for. It allowed her to get close to him, and not just the way she had been on the motorcycle.

Tonight she was going to kiss him and… The ‘and’ she let trail off…for the moment.


At least that was her idea, until…

“Ororo. I am goin’ to kiss you now. Tell me if you want me not to.”

…he jumped her move.

“Oh. Yes please. I mean don’t stop….mmmm…”


That night, Logan did not sleep in his bed or even under his own roof. He did not sleep much at all, nor did Ororo. Neither of them did.

---

“I was hired by my client to track down and confirm your identity.”

“My client? Ms. Laura Howlett. She is your sister…your twin sister.”

Note: Tried to do this chapter to get more from Ororo’ side, but with a few Logan related ‘flashback’ bits tossed in.

So, now that they are together and it looks like Logan is going to be reunited with his birth family, what next?