A
warm, wet night settled in soft, dark folds over the state of New York. The
moon, presumably hanging silently above, was like a hole in the open sky,
obscuring the stars that it crossed with the inky coat it wore.
Far
from the madding crowd in the largest city in America, where artificial light
hissed away the darkness, a sleepy house stood. It was no mean house, to be sure—towering over its domain of
verdant lawn in quiet pride—but the primacy of the house was mocked by the
thick, tall trees that grew at the edges of the lawn. They seemed to say, “Nothing lasts forever.” The house bore their jealous whispering with
fortitude.
It
would have taken a sharp eye, in this darkness, to detect the dew that gathered
silently on the lawn, and on the leaves of the trees. It might have come to the notice of a few owls, perhaps. A mouse or two. Certainly not the comfortably sleeping inhabitants of the house.
The
house, however forbidding in the daytime, seemed welcoming at night. Its fresh
coat of paint might have glowed eerily in the moonlight, but no visitor would
have been deterred on a night like this one.
The door, also in excellent repair, gave way to a foyer that was
remarkably homey and warm for such a large building. A clutter of boots dwelt in an open closet, sleeping until the
winter. Beside them, a collection of
dusty umbrellas mouldered away in useless companionship. The floors were well-worn hardwood, with a
friendly (but tattered) rug that invited visitors to dry their feet.
The
foyer gave way to a small hall, which proudly presented doors and a stairway to
the visitor. Tasteful paintings adorned
the walls, full of scenes of bucolic farm life and fishing. One scarcely needed to see them all to
understand their intent. The entire
room spoke of reverence and comfort.
The most alien visitor could not help but recognize this house as a
beloved home.
The
stairs that swept majestically up the wall to end in a landing gave the
impression that the hall was not quite so small, after all. Each stair was worn with the passage of
hundreds of feet, but gave no sound. It was as if the stairway had been torn
down, but rebuilt with love from the original materials.
The
landing itself was quite arresting. It
featured many photographs and paintings, framed to obscure an otherwise boring
wall. These objects were quite unlike
their brethren in the hall below, being portraits of real people. Two of these were larger than the rest; one
depicted a bald man, with forbidding brows and a serious demeanor, whose faint
smile spoke of wisdom won by years of argument. The other showed a man whose regal bearing and cold blue eyes
made one shiver. His face showed few lines, even if his hair was snowy white.
Down
the hallway, silent in the night, doors faced each other, jealously guarding
their secrets. One door, more honest
than the rest, was tilted slightly open to reveal a small bathroom. A preponderance of razors and other tools of
vanity revealed that its clientele was largely male.
Through
each door, the soft sounds of breathing could be heard, as the occupants of the
house slept the hours away. So this
continued, down the straight hallway, until the last three doors were
reached. These presented only a stony
silence, guarding only three empty rooms.
A
visitor might travel up another flight of stairs, to visit a verdant greenhouse
and its keeper, but might as easily descend the original steps, and cast about
for the occupants of the other two rooms.
These two, as it turned out, could be found through one of the doors, down
a dingy hallway that was not as well-kept as the rest of the house, and through
a oil-stained metal door at the end of that hallway. The door might open smoothly, on well-oiled hinges, to reveal two
men in the garage that also served as a hangar.
One
man was fairly lean, but muscular, with coppery skin that smoothed over sharp
features. A mustache, as black as the
man’s hair, perched neatly under a mouth that was drawn thin. Raven’s wings perched over dark brown
eyes. Both hands were covered with gloves,
concealing a metallic simulacrum on one side, as too the rest of his clothing
concealed the fruits of violence. One
leg was mostly bare, and it was gleaming metal. This man was sitting
precariously on a sawhorse, tinkering with the engine of a Blackbird jet.
The
other man sat on a nearby workbench. He
was shorter than the first man, but of a heroic proportion otherwise. A black shock of hair resisted the tug of a
nearby fan as efficiently as if it were fashioned of wire, as indeed it
appeared to be in this light. A square,
jutting jaw, bristling with stubble, sat tightly under a frowning countenance
framed by thick sideburns. His skin was
a paler hue, and more lined, though the man looked less upset than his
companion.
“So?”
this second man asked in a low, gravelly voice.
“So
what?” the first replied after a moment.
“You’re
sitting down here, workin’ away, not getting anything accomplished near as I
can tell, brooding like you ain’t seeing what’s in front of you anyway.”
The first
man grunted. “What’s it to you?”
“Pardon me, Forge, but you ain’t
exactly a peach to live with when you’ve got something on your mind. Seems like you’re not going to talk to
anybody else about it.”
Forge
put his tool down for a moment. “So,
avoid me.” he said bluntly.
“Could
do. Problem is, whenever you’re like
this, Ororo’s like this too. When she gets her panties in a bunch, all of us
suffer.”
Forge
let out a slow breath. “I doubt Ororo
would even notice what I feel like.”
“Oh,
so that’s it. Call her on it.”
“I
did.” Forge replied. “This afternoon.”
“So?”
“So
I asked her to marry me, Logan.”
Logan
shook his head. “Is that why everyone
was acting so damn weird at supper?
Nobody tells me anything. What’d
she say?”
Forge
picked up his tool again and returned to work.
“She said she needed some time to think about it. I suppose that ranks somewhere above ‘drop
dead’.”
Logan
snorted. “For cryin’ out loud, Forge,
what’s with the long face, then? She
could’ve said ‘no’.”
“She
could have said ‘yes’.”
“Big
decision. ‘Ro ain’t some lovesick
teenybopper. She’s a grown woman, with
responsibilities.”
Forge
accelerated the pace of his work.
“She’s getting buried under those responsibilities. She wasn’t meant to be cooped up like this.”
Logan
shook his head and walked over to his friend.
“Y’know, Forge, Ororo once gave me a beautiful flower from her
garden. It was one of those hybrid
types, something she’d bred herself. It
couldn’t live outside of the greenhouse.”
Forge
paused. “Are you saying that she’s like
a hothouse flower? That she can’t live
outside this twisted little household?”
“I’m
saying, appreciate beauty in its setting.”
The
bigger man turned around angrily. “You
can see what her responsibilities are doing to her, Wolverine! When we talked today, she was in tears
because she didn’t know who she was anymore!”
Logan
nodded slowly.
“She
isn’t happy here! You can see that,
can’t you?” Forge demanded.
His
audience sat silently for the space of a few seconds, and then replied, “She’s
been happier, I’ll give you that.”
“How
can you stand to look at her and see that she’s not happy?” Forge asked. “I can’t.”
“I
can’t just make her happy, Forge, or I would.”
“And
so would I!” Forge continued in a crescendo.
“That’s what I want to do, is to take her someplace where she doesn’t
have any worries, where her responsibilities wouldn’t extend past herself and
me.”
“So
you think that’ll fix everything.” Logan said slowly.
“You
think she doesn’t need fixing?” Forge said.
“Look at her. Look at what this
job makes her do. I’ve seen her happy,
Logan. It was when we were together on
the Adversary’s world for that year. We
were as free as the birds.”
“So
you’re saying the X-Men ain’t good for her.”
“That’s
exactly what I’m saying.” Forge replied.
“She
might not see it that way, Forge.”
“She’s
thinking about it right now.” Forge said.
“Or maybe she just doesn’t want to tell me the bad news.”
“So
you included ‘let me take you away from all of this’ in your proposal?”
“Yes.”
Logan
shook his head. “Cuts down the chance
she’ll say ‘yes’.”
Forge
nodded curtly. “I know, but we can’t go
on like this.
She’s
either married to me, or to her job.
Not both.”
“She’s
got time for both. Twenty four hours in
a day.”
“Logan,
do you know how much time she and I have spent alone together since I came to
work for Xavier?” Forge demanded.
“Not
offhand, no.”
“Not
one night. Not one full hour. Maybe an hour if you add together all of the
bits and pieces. I’ve been with the
X-Men for months. Do you still think
she’s got time?”
Logan
sat silently for a moment.
“Of
course she has time.” Forge said quietly.
Then, at a shout, “Of course she has time! But she’s never willing to spend any of it with me!”
“For
God’s sake, Forge, shut up! You’re
going to wake up the neighbours with all this yelling and bitching.”
“I’m
sorry, Logan, but you can see that this is important to me.” he hissed between
his teeth. He spared a few moments to
take deep breaths, and slow down his heart.
After swallowing hard, he continued.
“Look, you know Ororo.”
“Sure.”
“Outside
of Jean, perhaps, you know her better than anyone else here.”
“Yeah.”
“So,
you can tell me. You know that I love
Ororo, more than life itself.”
Logan
grunted. “Doesn’t take a genius to see
that. What else makes a man scream and
yell at all hours?”
“So that’s
obvious. What isn’t obvious is if she
loves me.
She says
she does. She might even believe she
does.
What I
want to know is, does she truly love me?”
Logan
sat and pondered the question for a while.
“Seems to me,” he said, “that a person can say she loves you, and
deceive you. She can say she loves you,
and deceive herself. So you’ve gotta
look at the evidence.”
“I’ve
looked at the damned evidence. It
doesn’t say anything!”
Logan
grunted. “Shouldn’t you be bitching at
Ororo instead of me?”
“Look.”
Forge said, relenting. “It’s not that I
don’t like the people here, and it’s not that I don’t like being an X-Man, but
this situation is poisonous for Ororo.
It’s killing her. I can’t stand
to watch that happening.”
“Well,
maybe she’ll see it the same way. Maybe
she won’t.
When’s
she gonna give you an answer?”
“I
don’t know. I’m afraid she loves this
job more than she loves me. If she
loves me at all.”
Logan
put his hand on Forge’s shoulder. “Man,
you got one thing right. Ororo loves being an X-Man. If she’s even thinkin’ about going away with you, then she’s
gotta be in love, right?”
Forge
smiled faintly. “Are you sure?”
“Sure as I am that ‘Ro came back a
changed woman after your year out o’ dimension.”
“Thanks,
Logan.”
“No
problem, Forge.”
* * * * *
The
inky night broke for a moment.
Yellowish light yawned out of a squarish and cavernous maw that gaped
widely to disgorge a figure. The
figure’s back was dimly coloured by the light within, hues of faded red, tired
blue, and beaten brown which gave way to a unassuming grey, as the night
leeched the colours away.
The
maw, which was in truth a hangar door, swung shut again. The man, no longer lit so sharply by
electric light, strode easily on the pavement. The only light in the yard came
from the stars, and what little leaked out around waxed and oiled paper from
the greenhouse in the attic.
A
sound, albeit a quiet one, came from above, as of a door or window sliding open
on folding wooden arms. The man’s ears
caught the sound, but he did not slow his stride. A rush of cool wind passed the man by, tugging at his shirt, and
he smiled.
“’Night,
Ororo.” he said.
“Logan. I thought that you were Forge.” she
said. A scent of loam and sandalwood washed
over Logan, as familiar as sunrise. No
less familiar was the rich alto voice that carried so well over the night’s
small sounds.
“Just
left him.” Logan replied. “You can find
him in the garage, if you’re interested.”
“It
is not normal for you to be awake at this time of night, old friend.”
“Ha. How would you know? You’re usually in bed before me, darlin’.
Something botherin’ you?”
“No. Nothing.” she said.
“Hmph. All right.
G’night.”
“What
did you and Forge talk about?” she called after him.
Logan
smiled, and stopped. “Probably much the
same as what you and Jean talked about.”
“I
mean, what did he say?” she asked.
“Y’know,
he can probably hear you through the garage door.” Logan remarked.
“Stop
tormenting me, Wolverine, and tell me what I ask!”
“Not for me to say, ‘Ro.” Logan
replied.
She
touched down and walked over to him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Please, Logan? It is a small thing I
ask.”
“I
suppose it is.” he grumbled. “Doesn’t
mean it’s the right thing t’do.”
“You
will be helping us understand each other.” she said.
“It
seems that we cannot do that of late.”
“Tell
you what. You tell me what you and Jean
said, and I’ll tell you what me and Forge were talking about.” he replied.
“Why
would you want to know what Jean and I said?”
Ororo
asked.
“So
I can tell Forge if he asks me. Fair
trade.”
She
made a rueful moue. “Very well. Jean told me that I should marry him.”
“And
you were agreein’ with her, or arguin’ with her?”
Logan
asked.
“I
was taking the advice of a friend. One
does not argue with advice, even if one does not choose to take it.” she
replied.
“Oh,
so that’s the way o’ things. Well?”
“I
have not decided.”
“Walk
with me, ‘Ro.”
“Gladly.”
The
two friends veered off of the driveway and moved into the trees, wherein they
continued for some moments before sitting before each other, cross- legged on
the dirt. Although it was very dark,
both were very much aware of each other’s presence.
“Forge
is worried about you. He thinks you
need t’get away from the X-Men.”
“I
know.”
“What do
you think about it?”
She bit her lip silently. “I have a responsibility to you, and the
rest of the X-Men, and Scott. It would
be difficult to leave.”
“No
one’d say ‘boo’ if you wanted t’go off with him. Hell, you deserve it. Bein’ leader is running you down.”
“What if I
decided not to go with him?”
“What? Nothing, I guess. Not
from the X-Men, anyway.
It’s
your life, ‘Ro.”
“You
do not understand. What do you think Forge
will do?”
“I
think he’ll leave.” Logan said gently.
“What
do you think I should do?” she asked.
“Gah. Don’t ask me that, ‘Ro.”
“Please,
Logan.”
He
grumbled. “Hmph. I’d sure hate t’ see you go, Ororo.
But
you follow your heart.”
She
hung her head. “I am not sure what my
heart is saying, old friend. I would
prefer to follow yours.”
“Now
that ain’t nice, ‘Ro, layin’ that kind o’ responsibility on me. I can’t make that kind o’ decision for you.”
“I
do not want to leave Forge. I do not
want him to leave me.”
“I
think he’s gonna leave this place, with or without you.”
“Do
you suppose that I could convince him to stay, here, with me?” she asked.
“I
don’t think so, darlin’.” he replied sympathetically. “T’be honest, you ain’t been giving him much o’ your time around
here.”
“I
know.”
“Do
you love him?” Logan asked.
“Yes.”
she said simply.
“Well
then.” he harrumphed after a while.
“You don’t want t’ end up an old maid like me, do you?”
She
smiled slowly. “You are not an old
maid.”
“I
never go for the brass ring, doll. You
don’t want t’ be like me.” he answered gruffly.
She
leaned forward, gathered him into her arms, and gave the old man a kiss full on
the lips. “Thank you, old friend.” she
said throatily, a few centimetres from his face.
“S’what
I’m here for.” he managed, and tilted his forehead forward to meet hers,
gently, in the dark.
After
a few moments, she disengaged. Logan
listened to her soft tread on the forest floor until it faded into the sound of
a sudden wind.
He shook his
head in disbelief. “What I’m here
for. Since when am I a friggin’
marriage counsellor?”
* * * * *
A
blast of noise shattered the relative peace of the night, interrupting the
steady static of rainfall. The
thunder’s authority faded, and the hiss of the rain returned. Near to the ground, which wore a pavement
coat, the sound was quiet enough.
However, pavement met grass, and grass met stucco, which rose to meet an
aluminum shingle roof. Against this
surface, the rain beat like a demented drummer.
This
racket might have been impossible to sleep through for most, but for a woman
sleeping alone in a wide bed, the noise wasn’t as loud as her dreams. She lay
sprawled across the mattress, tangled in the sheets. Long, straight red hair was pulled back from a furrowed
brow. Every few moments, a moan would
escape her lips.
The
woman’s rest, unquiet though it might have been, was not interrupted by the
sudden clamour of a nearby telephone.
She just turned over onto her side, dragging cotton sheets with her, as
the answering machine took up the call.
“You’ve
reached Heather Hudson. I may be at
work; you can try to reach me there if you know the number. I may just be busy. Leave a message.”
“Hey,
red. Sorry t’ call so late. Just wanted to hear your
voice, I
guess. As you’re not answering, I guess
this
recording’ll
have to suit me. I’ll call back again on our usual
day.” <click>
“Good
evening, Logan.” a deep, almost boyish bass said.
Logan
jumped, his hand still resting on the telephone in the dark room. “Jesus,
Petey, you startled me!”
“I
startled you? I suppose there is a
first time for everything.”
“Guess
so.” Logan said dismissively.
“Is
something wrong, tovarish? You must be
troubled if even a ‘lumbering tin can’ sneaks up on you.” the voice said.
Logan
smiled slightly. “Aw, you know me,
Petey. I’m just thinkin’ about missed
opportunities. Nursing a regret or
two.”
“This
is no time for unhappiness, my friend.
Forge and Ororo are getting married.”
“I
know. I guess I’m the kind o’ guy who
can’t see another person’s happiness without takin’ a sharp look at his own.”
“Do
you think they’ll be happy?” Piotr asked frankly.
Logan
paused for a minute, genuinely surprised at the question. “Why, sure.
Why not?”
“Forge
does not seem to me to share Ororo’s love of life.
He
is a cold man.”
“Naw,
he ain’t cold, Petey. He’s a feeler
just like you ‘n’ me. It’s just he
doesn’t like airing his laundry much.
I’m sure he’s all silk and smiles and puppies when he’s alone with ‘Ro.”
“So
he is secretive.” Piotr pressed.
“What’s
wrong with that? So am I. So’s Ororo, for that matter. She’s just gotten comfortable enough with us
to share her life.”
“I
know. I’m just worried because he has
not opened up to me. I don’t really
know what he’s like.”
Logan
nodded in the dark. “Yeah. I can see that. He ain’t really that hard to read, though. You just have to find an opening. I think he means to treat her right.”
Piotr
nodded in turn. “Well, if you think
that he is the right man for her, then I will trust you. I will try to worry no more.”
* * * * *
“Forge
is going to drop dead when he sees you in that dress.”
The
speaker was a woman with luxuriant red hair and an angular beauty. Her green
eyes twinkled mischievously. She was
seated on the smooth marble counter of a spacious restroom. She addressed Storm, who was wearing a tank
top and a brief pair of shorts, but pressed a long white dress to her
body. The taller woman admired her
reflection in a mirror. A majestic
chandelier, incongruous in a restroom, remained unlit. All of the light in the room was natural,
streaming through a window.
“I
certainly hope not, Jean. A minor
stroke would be flattering, though.” she replied. She pivoted slightly, to see another angle. “How do you like your dress?”
Jean’s
mouth quirked. “It’s probably the best
we could do for the lineup of bridesmaids you’ve got. I think the colour will flatter me more than it will Kitty.”
“Do
you think it was too much, asking her to come from Scotland for the wedding?”
“Of
course not. I think she’s thrilled that
you asked.”
Ororo
smiled. “Good. I hope so.
She seemed to be ambivalent on the matter.”
Jean
nodded thoughtfully. “Well, Ororo, she
doesn’t know Forge very well. She loves and admires you a great deal, and she
wants to be sure that you’ll be happy.”
“I
am sure that she will come to love Forge as I do.”
“Well...”
Jean giggled.
Ororo
laughed also. “All right. Perhaps not exactly as I do.”
“Maybe
you and Forge will be able to take the occasional trip to Scotland to visit the
gang.”
“And
we will be able to see everyone here often, I hope.”
Jean
nodded. “Have you figured out where
you’re going to live yet?”
Ororo
shook her head, her eyes apologetic.
“No. I wish to live here in New
York, as you know. Perhaps upstate. Forge is still resisting the idea. He wants to move back to Texas.”
“Well,
that’s where all of his business is, I guess.”
“I
still think that we could as easily relocate here. His apartment in Dallas is very sterile and clean. It is very much his environment. I wish to have my own stamp on the place
where I live, and I think that he would be upset if I began to change things
there. A new home would be something
that we could make together.” Storm said, pursing her lips.
“Yes. He loves you, but when a man is as ossified
a bachelor as Forge, he’s used to having things arranged his way.” Jean
replied. “He’s got to shove over and
make some room for you.”
“Did you
have that concern with Scott?”
“Well, no. Scott and I have lived together since we
were kids, after all. We’re kind of a strange case. Plus, we’re not married yet.
He’s got to ask me, first.” she smiled.
“I
suppose so.” Ororo said, allowing the dress to fold to her waist. “It is not as if Forge and I have not dwelt
together before, but we were alone together on the Adversary’s world. This will
be different.”
“It’ll
be better.” Jean said, giving Ororo a one armed-hug.
“You’ll
have him and all of your friends, too.”
* * * * *
“I
just hope that we can recapture what we had on the Adversary’s world.”
The
speaker was Forge. He was addressing
Logan, who was grimacing at the tight fit of the bow tie that he was fumbling
with. Forge himself looked impeccable
in his tuxedo, with the exception of his own tie, which hung loose around his
neck. The two of them were standing
together in a small restroom, peering into a small mirror that overlooked a
marble countertop and sink. The counter
was strewn with razors and toothbrushes.
“Who
knows? If anyone can do it, it’s the
two of you.” Logan replied with a grunt.
“Help me with this frigging thing, would you?”
“Shit. Do you mean to tell me that you don’t know
how to tie one of these?” Forge asked.
“I don’t either.”
“Don’t
worry, Forge.” said a tall man, who stepped sideways into the room at that
moment. His skin was a pale, even shade
of blue, but this unusual hue did nothing to detract from his classic good
looks. A mane of perfectly styled blond
hair fell in waves to his shoulders, which were covered by a stylishly cut
tuxedo. Two metallic wings were folded
close to his back, but the metallic feathers carefully did not touch the
fabric. “I know how to tie one.”
“Thanks,
Warren.” Forge replied, and craned his neck to allow Warren to perform the
operation. This, the handsome man did
with dispatch. He then cast a critical
eye over the Cheyenne, and made some small adjustments to the hang of his
jacket.
“Perfect.”
he said.
“Here,
Warren. Do me too, would you?” Logan
said gruffly.
“My
pleasure, short stuff.” Warren replied.
He quickly went through the same motions, and then cast the same
critical eye on Logan. His fingers
twitched forward, but Logan waved him off.
“Pardon
me, boys.” said a broad-shouldered man as he muscled his way into the crowded
room. He spoke in a sharp Limerick
brogue, which rode a majestic baritone out of a square jaw. His red hair was trimmed down to a crew cut,
and his mustache and neatly trimmed goatee almost disappeared into his florid
complexion. The collar of his tuxedo
constrained a thick neck.
“Lookin’
good, Irish.” Logan said. “Pardon
me.” With that, the short man cut out
of the room to make some room for the larger man.
“How
do I look?” the big man asked.
“Top
notch, Sean.” said Forge. “Thanks for
making it.”
“Well,
I’m the man responsible for making you an X-Man. It was the least I could do to see you through the last couple of
days of it.” Sean smiled.
“No,
I mean it. I know you’d rather be with
Moira than hanging around here.” Forge insisted. “I’m glad you could come.”
“Happy
to do it.” Banshee said, with a dismissive wave.
“So,
where are you and Ororo going on honeymoon?”
“We’re
going to Hawaii. A few days on the
beach, a few days island-hopping, and then off to Dallas.”
“Sounds
lovely. Sure you don’t have room for
one small Irish man and his girl?”
“Sorry.”
Forge smiled. “The plane’s a
two-seater.”
“Maybe
next time ‘round.” Sean said. “You look
bloody great, Warren.”
Warren’s
mouth quirked. “Too true, Sean. We are definitely a handsome trio.” He put his hand on Forge’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Forge. Sean and I will make sure that the ladies
won’t mourn the death of another eligible bachelor for too long.”
Forge
chuckled. “Just don’t work your magic
on my wife. I want her to come with me
to Hawaii, remember?”
“My
magic is reserved for single women only.” Warren said piously. “That means I’ve only got thirty minutes to
work on your future wife before I lose my chance.”
“Thirty
minutes.” Forge said with an audible gulp.
A
younger man stuck his head into the bathroom.
His hair was too short to be neatly combed, but he had applied enough
mousse to make sure that his light-brown locks behaved themselves. “Drummers are here, Forge. They want to know where to set up.”
“Thanks,
Drake. There’s a stage right beside the
nave on the back lawn. They can set up there.” Forge said. “Just be sure that they’re not fidgeting
around through the ceremony, if you could.”
“No
problem. Warren, that is a truly ugly
tux. Has your girlish fashion sense
finally left you?”
“I
can’t see your suit from here, Icicle, but I’ll bet it’s tan or powder blue,
isn’t it?” Warren said over his shoulder.
“Guilty,
but I was only thinking of you. After
all, I’ve got Opal on my arm today, and you’ve got nobody. How will it look if all of the women are
flocking around me?”
“Unique
in human history.” Warren chuckled.
“Jackass. I’m going to talk to those drummers.” Bobby
said lightly as he left.
“Wait.”
Forge said. “I’ll come with you.” He squeezed out of the small room and walked
with Bobby down the hallway.
They
walked together silently for a while, but then Bobby piped up. “I think you’re really good for Storm. I think it’s great that you two are tying
the knot.”
“Thanks,
Drake.” Forge replied.
“So, are you really leaving the X-Men?”
Forge
looked down at him. “You know, you’re
the first person who has asked me that.
Yeah, I’m really leaving.”
Bobby
nodded. “Too bad. What’s this I hear about you going off to
live in Dallas?”
“It’s
where my life is.”
“What about your life here?”
“I
never meant for the X-Men to be a permanent part of my life.” Forge said. “I just stayed for Ororo.”
“But
the X-Men are going to be a permanent part of your life. You’re marrying one, after all.” Bobby
observed.
“No,
I’m marrying Ororo, not Storm. After
today, she’ll be no more an X-Man than I am.”
“Than
you were.” he stressed.
“Right.”
“Are
you sure she’s all right with that?” Bobby asked after a few moments.
“Yes. Look, Drake, I can see the drummers. I’ll talk to you later.” Forge said. He strode away from Bobby on his long legs,
and pushed open a French door to the back lawn.
“Talk to
you later.” Bobby said quietly.
* * * * *
The
young woman sighed. “Ororo, you look
amazing.”
Jean
smiled and continued to make small adjustments to the fit of Storm’s dress. Storm was standing, arms straight out and
chin tilted, in the middle of Jean’s bedroom.
“Thank
you, kitten.” Ororo said. “I hope Forge
thinks so, too.”
“Oh,
he’ll think so or he’ll answer to me.” Kitty replied, mock-grimly. She was
seated on the bed, trying not to crease the strapless green gown that she
wore. As the young woman spoke, she
tucked her fingers into the bodice of the gown and hitched it up a bit.
“Hold
still, Ororo.” Jean muttered around the clasp in her mouth.
“Sorry,
Jean.”
“I’m
so happy for you, Ororo. I’m glad you
found your prince.” Kitty said.
“One
day, yours will come too, kitten.” Storm smiled.
The
girl sighed. “I know. I wish he’d hurry up. I mean, I used to think that Peter was my
prince, but now that I know he’s not, I’ve got nowhere to go.”
“Well,
I didn’t meet Forge until I was much older than you.
He’ll
come.”
“Didn’t
you hate Forge at first? He took your
powers away, after all.”
“No,
kitten, I didn’t really hate him. I was
very angry at him. I was sad and confused
and frightened. It was Forge who helped
me deal with my loss of powers. He was
there for me when no one else could be.
That was when I fell in love with him.”
“So that’s why you love him?”
Ororo
pursed her lips. “Partly. I love him because he is sensitive, and
honest, and because he thinks that I am special. He lets me see parts of him that no one else is allowed to see.”
“Well,
I hope he treats you right. I don’t
like that he wants you to move to Dallas with him.” Kitty said.
“That
issue has not been decided yet.
Besides, you live in Great Britain now.
Dallas is not so much farther away than Westchester.”
Kitty
nodded. “I know. I’m just afraid that I won’t be able to see
you as often because you aren’t in the same place as everyone else.”
Ororo
smiled. “You do not always have to
visit me. I can visit you, too.
Besides, it is a short trip from Dallas to New York in a Blackbird. So long as
I know that you are visiting, I can meet you here.”
“Perfect!”
Jean beamed, sitting back on her heels. Then, the clasp came undone, and the dress began to unwind.
Ororo
quickly clutched the dress to herself before it hit the floor. “I am sure I
will appreciate this feature when Forge and I retire for the evening, Jean, but
if the dress falls apart when I am before the priest, I think my husband will
be jealous.”
Jean
giggled. “I suppose I could hold the
dress together for you, if we can’t get the clasp to stay.”
Ororo
crooked an eyebrow. “All the way
through dinner and the first dance?”
“I
can just imagine!” Kitty laughed. “Jean
gets distracted by someone saying ‘pass the potatoes’, and suddenly your dress
is dragging in the gravy boat!”
“It
would help” Jean growled, “if this dress had a bit more to it. You are going to look gorgeous, Ororo, but
I’m not sure how you’re supposed to walk in this thing.”
“Am
I not supposed to look like a woman on my wedding day?” Storm asked archly.
“Oh,
don’t mind me. If I had thirty-eight
inch legs, I’d probably try to wear dresses like this, too.”
“Thank
you.”
“’Try’ being
the operative word, of course.” Jean said with a straight face.
* * * * *
“Wolverine.”
“Hmm?”
“Wolverine!”
“What?”
“I’ve
got to talk to you.” said Bobby.
“Picked
a damned stupid time to do it. I’ve got
to get out there and stand up front.”
“It’s
about Forge and Storm.” he said.
Logan
stopped, sighed, and turned around.
“What is it?”
“I
think they’re making a mistake.” Bobby said in a rush.
“What? Hell of a time to come out with that! I’m glad you’re taking this crap to me and
not to Forge or Ororo. They’re nervous
enough as it is without you shooting off your mouth.”
“Just
shut up and listen, all right? I can’t
believe you don’t see this. Forge isn’t seeing Storm at all. He’s seeing this image of what he’d like her
to be.”
Logan
shook his head. “Look, boy, Storm’s a
big girl. She knows what she’s getting
into.”
“Does
she really?” Bobby pressed. “Come on,
have you talked to the guy?”
“I
know him better than you do, Drake.
Hell, I know him better than I know you.”
“Then
what are you doing? Get out there and
stop that wedding! They’re going to be
miserable.”
Logan
glared at the taller man. “Is that why
you’re talking to me? ‘Cause you ain’t
got the balls to stand up and speak your piece?”
“No,
I’m talking to you because they won’t listen to me. Maybe they’ll listen to you, if you open your eyes for a minute
and actually look at how Forge is talking and acting!”
“Goddamn
it, boy, no marriage is perfect. I’m
not a friggin’ counsellor, and I don’t give advice that people don’t ask for
first. Ororo and Forge know what’s
going on. Maybe they don’t agree on
everything, but that’s because they’re different people. Doesn’t mean their differences are bigger
than they are.”
“Would
you just listen? I’m saying their
relationship isn’t even honest. How can you have a marriage if you don’t even
know what the other person is thinking?” Bobby insisted.
“And
when the hell did you come to this conclusion, Drake? I didn’t see you at Forge’s elbow for the past month. I didn’t see you talkin’ to Ororo every
day. This idea is from, what, a couple
o’ impressions and a few minutes o’ conversation?” Logan snapped.
“I’m
not wrong.” Bobby said darkly.
“Well,
you ain’t proved it by me.” Logan
replied. He stalked away, headed for
the front.
“If
you don’t say something, I will!” Bobby called after him.
There
was no reply.
“Shit.” he
muttered.
* * * * *
The
drummers began their wedding march with a simple, steady cadence that was the
foundation of many Cheyenne songs. It
built steadily in volume, and then a quiet and complicated counterpoint
began. It had the syncopated, staccato
style of traditional East African music.
This, too, built in volume until the two styles bled together, forming a
distinctive harmony. Order within
chaos.
Forge
swallowed repeatedly and unconsciously clenched his fists, staring up the aisle
at the mansion, where his fiancee would soon emerge from a French door. Logan glanced over, noticing his
trepidation, and smiled slightly. He,
too, turned a bit to watch the aisle.
His eyes caught Bobby’s, who was busy staring at him. Logan felt Bobby’s glare bore into him, and
shifted uncomfortably.
Kitty,
smiling brilliantly, was the first person out of the house. She had spent a great deal of time in the
rehearsal working on the proper pace to use, and was successfully resisting the
temptation to speed her steps to match the music. She winked at Logan, who winked back.
Rogue
came out next, looking arresting in the strapless green gown that all of the
bridesmaids wore. She had a rather
mysterious smile on, and did not turn her head to look at anyone in the crowd.
Jean
stepped through the door shortly thereafter, and shared a private glance with
Scott as she passed him. Logan stared
at her a bit wistfully, but accidentally caught Bobby’s eye again in so
doing. Bobby raised an eyebrow
meaningfully. Wolverine bared his
teeth, but quickly composed himself. He
glanced over at Forge to see if the man had noticed the exchange, but he was
oblivious, staring past the women to catch a glimpse of Storm.
Storm
was a veritable vision of beauty in a long white dress that clung like a
sarong. She took small steps down the
aisle toward the nave, smiling radiantly.
Her hand rested on the shoulder of Charles Xavier, who was guiding her
up the aisle in the place of her long-deceased father. His face was solemn, but he radiated
pride. Logan’s heart warmed as he saw
the pair come up the aisle, and his heart was beating as strongly as the final
crescendo of the drums when they parted with a kiss at the nave.
“It
is my great honour to perform this ceremony.” began the man at the front of the
nave. He was tall, lean, and muscular,
and wore a pair of dark sunglasses under light hair. “I wouldn’t presume to say that I am very well acquainted with
the couple, but I do know that they are both admirable people who love each
other very much.” He smiled at the
assemblage.
“Get
to it, Murdoch.” Wolverine whispered under his breath.
“What’s
eating you, Logan?” the man returned in an equally inaudible tone, before continuing
out loud, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to witness the marriage of
Ororo Munroe and Forge. What we join
together today, let no one break apart.”
Logan
stole a glance at the crowd, who were themselves staring at the couple. They were all rapt, with happy, expectant
faces. All but Drake, who would not
shed his worried, sullen glare. He
swore silently.
Turning
his gaze to Ororo and Forge, he could see how happy they were. Storm was
serene, a picture of both dignity and delight.
Forge was, if anything, even more entranced than she. He barely remembered to shake a little, and
probably wasn’t aware that anyone else was watching.
Little
things whispered in his ear that Bobby might just be right. Forge had struck on a proposal as a way to
‘fix’ his relationship with Ororo. Fixing people was something to be left to
shrinks and doctors.
Forge
loved her. Obviously. And wanted to make her happy. No question. And didn’t understand that he
couldn’t force her to change and keep her happy. It almost seemed like he was trying to understand her by forcing
her to fit a plan he’d drawn up. Like
the mystery would be solved that way.
He was trying to relate to her better by defining her life.
Was loving a piece of her good enough?
Hell,
he hadn’t heard from either of them what Ororo was supposed to do with herself
after they got married. She wasn’t the
sort of woman that would be satisfied with a life that consisted of her
husband, but that was exactly what Forge wanted, maybe even expected.
And
through all this, he’d just shut his eyes, shut his ears, and hummed along.
Shit.
Forge
had one thing right when he asked how he could stand to see Ororo unhappy. He couldn’t. But now he couldn’t see how he was going to avoid it.
Storm’s
a grown woman, he thought to himself.
She doesn’t need you to poke your nose in. Leave it alone.
She’s
a woman who’s about to marry a man that she can’t even talk to.
“And
if there is a person present who knows any reason why these two cannot be
legally married, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
He
could feel Bobby staring at the back of his head, and it was burning a hole
into his brain, but he couldn’t make himself speak. Maybe you’re wrong. Don’t
screw things up for these two.
Logan
looked up from his feet at exactly the wrong time, and met Ororo’s eyes. She was smiling at him, as she must have
been at everybody, but then she took in the look on his face, and her smile
wilted.
“What
is troubling you, Logan?” she asked softly.
Forge
started, and turned around to look at Logan, a questioning frown on his face.
“Nothing,
darlin’.” Logan said. “This ceremony
just makes me think of loves come and gone.
Don’t pay my sour puss any mind.”
She
started to look worried and hurt.
“Please do not lie to me, old friend.
Something is troubling you, and I know that if you could help yourself,
you would not let it show. Tell me the
truth.”
“Why
don’t we talk about it after our vows?” Forge interjected in a low, even tone.
“Tell
me, Logan.” Ororo repeated.
“Like
I said, it’s nothing you should trouble yourself with, ‘Ro. Don’t let me
interrupt your wedding.”
“Please,
Logan. I cannot do this if I you do not
support me, and I am afraid that that is what you are not saying to me.”
“What?”
said Forge hotly. “What does he have to
do with anything?”
“He
is one of my dearest friends.” she said.
“He is a part of my life that I did not know was missing before I met
him, and would not part with for any price.
In his way, Logan is as dear to me as you are.”
“This
is our life, Windrider! Our life. Yours and mine.
Not
yours and mine and his.”
“He’s
right, ‘Ro. I didn’t mean to stir up
trouble.”
“No,
Logan. Forge, I love you, but you must
know that you cannot love me and not my life.
My life may change with time, but I will not separate myself from it.”
Forge
gestured angrily. “What’s this ‘your
life’? I thought that it was supposed
to be ‘our life’. As in you and me. We were supposed to start over, away from
this mess, remember? Are you saying
that you don’t want to do that anymore?”
“Forge,
I...” she said.
“No! This life has been wearing you down. It’s killing you, and like an addict, you
just keep clinging to it! When are you
going to wake up and see what your attachment to this ‘life’ is doing to
you? These responsibilities that you’ve
piled on yourself are more than anyone could handle, but you do it anyway! And why?”
“Why
are you doing this?” she whispered.
“Because
you’re hiding from the past! Hiding
from the rubble of your parents’ brownstone, trying to cover yourself up so
that no one can touch you.”
“Please
stop...”
“And
you’re hiding from the future, too.
Living in an endless now. You
look to him to ask what you should do?
You look to Jean? Where’s the
leadership that you’re always throwing around on the field? You can pilot a Blackbird jet, but not your
own private life! And I’m sick of it,
do you hear me?”
“Please...”
“I
think Destiny was right. A storm is a
sometime thing, that passes out of your life as easily as it passes in. You don’t really love me, and you sure as
hell don’t need me. To hell with you.
“And
to hell with you!” he snarled, and punched Wolverine in the jaw. He towered over the shorter man for a
moment, glaring his despite, and then stalked up the aisle toward the house.
Logan
got to his feet slowly, and held out his hand.
“’Ro, I...”
She
spun on her heel and took off into the sky, amid pitch-black clouds that were
swiftly gathering to replace the sun.
He
stared up after her as rain started to fall.
Around him, people got up from their seats and filed sadly toward the
house, to get out of the wet. Jean paused to put a comforting hand on his
shoulder, before running for shelter.
He
still stood, getting drenched and staring up at the sky.
“You
did the right thing.” Iceman offered from a few feet away.
Logan
stood silent for a few moments before answering, in a raspy voice, “Maybe, but
it sure as hell don’t feel like the right thing, Drake. It feels like I drove two people apart. I don’t think she’s going to forgive me this
one.”
“Better
this than years of misery.”
“You
make your own damn mistakes in this life!” Logan roared. “You make your own mistakes, and you keep
them to yourself, and try to make sure that they don’t spread t’ other people’s
lives. I forgot that today, and a sweet
friend o’ mine is paying for it. I
should have left her t’ make her own mistakes.
Instead, I gave her one o’ mine.”
“I’m
sorry, Logan.”
“Just
leave me alone, Drake. I’d like to
enjoy this storm by myself.”
End
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