Lost Chances

by Coda

The room was silent with the exception of the seductive sounds of soft and shallow breathing. Wolverine awoke to the smell of cinnamon gently enveloping his sensitive nose, and the rest of his body shivered in response to the sweet stimuli. Slowly, his lids inched apart to let streams of moonlight caress orbs still milky with the residue of sleep. The skylight lay directly above him. He was in the attic. He was in her bed.

Storm lazily draped her body across Wolverine's with the sated stature of a leopard sunning herself upon a sturdy tree limb. Her long shapely legs locked around Wolverine's own large calves, her slender fingers curled around his tough and sinewy pectorals. As she nuzzled her face against him, long streams of platinum locks poured past Wolverine's shoulders like a waterfall. Eyelashes the color and texture of papyrus traced butterfly kisses across his waist. Her full lips nipped at his stomach as she mumbled in her sleep.

Wolverine was at a loss to understand how Storm could sleep so peacefully in such an awkward position, then realized that he himself had not slept so comfortably in months. He had grown used to the secure weight of the adamantium over the years, and found that his sleep was notably fitful without it. Storm's weight was a pleasant alternative to the metallic security blanket that had been wrenched from his body. She soothed him--put him at ease.

It was all the more reason for him to leave her bed.

He had decided earlier on that it would be wiser to keep their relationship a secret. Logan had too many enemies, and he wouldn't risk getting Storm caught in the crossfire. Love was an Achilles' heel to be sheltered from the eyes of others. He had learned that lesson a long time ago, and it had taken three deaths to teach it to him. Three deaths. Logan growled softly with regret as his mind focused upon Ai-Chia's name. Love was a weakness he shouldn't have, and a blessing he didn't deserve.

He snapped to attention upon hearing a soft rumbling overhead. Wolverine shot a questioning look at Storm, who was still snugly engrossed in her own dreams. He frowned. Storm had made rounds only an hour ago, blithely informing him that every X-Man was accounted for before they toppled into bed. Anyone sneaking out would have immediately set off the security systems Beast reactivated when Deathbird's supplies from the Shi'ar Imperium arrived that morning--supplies that were happily welcomed by all but Wolverine. Logan knew exactly what the reserves were meant for--and it wasn't to offer charity. Nonetheless, the X-Men couldn't rescue Bishop until they had saved themselves. If Deathbird was going to try to bribe the X-Men into letting her keep Bishop, so be it. Wolverine hadn't made the woman any promises.

He rolled Storm away from him as shadows snaked across the two. Wolverine ripped the sheet from his body, crouching on the bed and fixing his gaze on the skylight above him like a predator targeting its prey. He could smell the fear on the intruder and began to salivate in anticipation. The musky odor of nervous sweat seeped down from the skylight and permeated the room. The smell of spices grew stronger, burning Wolverine's nose. It wasn't cinnamon.

He knew who the intruder was.

Wolverine grunted with satisfaction from the exquisite sensation of pleasure mixed with pain as his claws ripped through the thin film of skin that covered their fleshy housings. He pounced, tearing through the night air like a needle threaded with course cotton through raw black silk. Hands throbbed with pain and ran red with blood as Wolverine smashed open the skylight and leapt through the newly made portal. The broken glass crushed underneath his feet as Logan took a running start towards the intruder, hooking his forearm underneath the intruder's neck and pushing them both flat against the roof.

Gambit trembled as the tips of Logan's claws kissed the whites of his eyes.

"Huh! If I knew dat you would miss me so much, I would 'ave never left!"

Wolverine eased off Gambit upon hearing his nervous joke. The kid wasn't there to start trouble--at least not the physical kind. He dropped back to his haunches and scanned the grounds. "You got no business comin' back here, boy." He watched Gambit with apathy as the Cajun's trembling hands lit a thin filterless cigarette.

"Everyt'ing I need is here."

"Yeah, but nothin' here needs you."

"Dat's not for you t' say."

"It'll hurt less hearin' it from me."

"Since when you so concerned 'bout my hurt?" Gambit jumped as the match singed his fingers. He flicked the cigarette away from him and watched the glowing crimson embers of the tobacco sail in a neat arc through the darkness towards the lit pool. It was unusually warm for March, and the air was uncomfortably thick and still. "I want t' speak wit' Stormy."

"No." Wolverine peered down through the skylight at his lover's sleeping form. The radiance of the moon splashed in her valleys, her curves cupped the spilling light. He felt his need for her cause him to swell. Short and moist huffs of air blasted from his mouth like the panting of a starved wolf.

Reluctantly, he tore his eyes from her form as he heard Gambit clear his throat. The Cajun tossed his trenchcoat at him. Wolverine offered a gruff thanks as the cool cloth smacked against his loins. He shredded the smooth inside of his lower lip with two razor sharp canines and felt his erection subside with the increasing pain. "She doesn't need to see you now."

"That is not for you to decide, my love."

Logan jumped as Storm appeared behind him. Her smooth voice sent shock-waves down his skin. Bathed in her scent, he hadn't been able to sense her coming. It was yet an additional way he had made himself vulnerable to the woman. It irritated him. He growled in annoyance.

Storm smiled and bent down to place a quick kiss on Wolverine's forehead to appease him. As she rose, she snatched the trenchcoat from her lover's lap, hurling it--along with an icy look--back at Gambit. "What are you doing here?"

Gambit moved towards Storm, then judged her expression and thought better of it. "I jus' wanted t' see…I needed…"

"Wolverine. Would you leave us please?" Storm's eyes locked upon Gambit's form. Her feline pupils narrowed to slim blades.

Wolverine snorted at Storm's brusque and authoritative tone. He snatched the matchbook and lighter that had fallen by his feet and lit a cigarette. It didn't feel right. He snuffed the flame out against his callused hand and tossed the cigarette into the lit pool…waited a few moments…scanned the horizon. The air was muggy and still. "I look like a child to you?"

"Do I?"

Wolverine ignored her response.

They stood there in the silence for several moments, each waiting for the other to make a move. Gambit's unsure glances flitted back and forth between the two. Neither one noticed him. He pulled his trenchcoat around his shoulders for comfort.

Storm hugged herself tightly, swaying back and forth in the thick soup of air. Her faint hums wavered in pitch, the notes reaching high enough to be indiscernible to human ears.

Wolverine heard them. His old drinking songs, captured by Storm's voice, signaled in his ears and reassured his mind. This wasn't going to be like last time. He cleared his throat and stood up as a hot wind began to blow across his skin. Lightning writhed above him. He looked up at the sky. "Storm's comin'. Maybe we'll get a break from all this heat. Bad when stuff builds up in the air for too long."

"That is very true." Storm's soft whispers were lost in the gusts. She watched Wolverine slip silently down through the skylight, then turned towards Gambit.

The Cajun laughed nervously as Storm hovered above him. He took the hand she offered. "Sky sounds like it's 'bout t' split open, chere. You dat mad at me?"

Storm's blank face fixed on the heavens as the two rose into the sky.

"I did not want the others to hear your screams."

********

"How could you!"

She moved like quicksilver. A flash of cinnabar and ivory was all he could discern before the force of her bolt blew him backward across the forest. The jolt shot up his body; millions of electric spiders bit at his sweat soaked flesh. Gambit pulled himself up from the ground, twigs and stones scraping against his calves as he crawled on his hands and knees through the insect infested sludge. He dug his fingers into the raw wet earth to steady himself. He could feel the cold mud ooze between his fingers as he clenched his fists in agony. Gambit lurched forward--a torrent of blood spurt from his mouth. Crimson vomit splattered across the soft pale backs of his hands. He tried to move forward and stand for her next attack. He couldn't avoid her; he couldn't strike her--not when he deserved all the violence in her heart. He knew that he had been the one to place it there.

Her fist cracked against his jaw, and Gambit could feel his teeth shatter and scrape together inside of his mouth. His molars, reduced to a handful of calcium pebbles and tiny jagged daggers, slid across his tongue to form a bloody soupy mess at the base of his throat. He choked--doubling over in pain as the granules tore at the soft flesh. Her elbow slammed into his back, firing searing pain up his spine and forcing the breath from his body. The gritty mess shot past his lips and through his nose.

Storm hovered above him--eerily quiet. She waited for him to raise his eyes, eyes that were demonic reflections of her own. Gambit turned his black and crimson gaze towards the heavens instead of meeting her azure and ivory orbs.

"Chere?"

A slight breeze blew across her frame, twisting her silken white robe around her body. The sleeves billowed like wings.

He reached for her, seeing only salvation when his eyes fixed upon her…and she shrank from him, pulling her hands before her face as if she would burst into flames at his touch. As much as she was an angel in his eyes, he was a decrepit corpse in hers, a body and soul forever stained with blood.

"I need dis place. I need t' come home."

"You do not have a home. Not here, Gambit."

He winced, slapping back against the wet earth. Her verbal attacks were greater than any physical blow. "Mon dieu, chere! Please, don' say dat! You…you my padnat…family."

"There is no family for you to claim here."

"I'm an X-Man--"

"Gambit, you are not even a man."

He started to cry. "Stormy…"

"Leave."

"Stormy…"

It began to rain. Heavy, thick and warm, the shower poured down upon the two, washing away Gambit's dirt…concealing Storm's tears. Her cold stare melted like morning frost under afternoon light.

"You hurt me…"

He jumped to life at her sobs, pulling her against him, trying to do anything--say anything--to make them stop. He rocked her in his arms. "It wasn't me, chere. Dat's what I try t' convince myself of every time I close my eyes an' I see it. All de pain. All de suffering. I thought by coming here wit' you, I could make all de pain go away--clean de slate. I jus' wind up making everyt'ing worse. Can't go hiding everyt'ing I'm shamed of. Hav' t' own up t' my own actions."

He looked down at her, but she didn't respond. He stroked the back of her head thoughtfully. "Dat man though, dat man dat I was? He died long time ago, chere. Died dat night. I tried t' stop dem after I figured out what Sinister had planned, but dey was to strong f'r me. All I could do…"

He hesitated for a moment and let the memory wash over him. "All I could do was save dis little petite cryin' in de corner. Sad little t'ing--bones sticking out every which way. Probably had nothin' decent in her whole life. De way she looked at me when I saved her--like I had offered her de whole world? I knew I had t' make myself de man dat was in dat little girl's eyes. Owed her dat much."

He felt Storm stiffen in his arms.

"Get out!" Her voice was like cold iron. She pushed Gambit away--watched him stagger and fall.

"Stormy…I…don' feel…"

"GET! OUT!"

She turned from him and tore through the forest on foot--a wounded bird too hurt to fly.

And as much as he wanted to run after her, he couldn't.

He was too busy passing out.

********

"Get up."

"Huh? Everybody okay?"

"Fine. I need you to see somethin'."

"What do ya…Logan! It's four o'clock in the damn mornin'! Ah oughta knock yoah ass three weeks from Sunday!"

"You need to see somethin'."

"Alright, ya don't have to pull on me! Logan, ya knockin' over all mah damn pictures!"

"Let's go."

"Ah know ya don't think you can just come up in heah and--"

"Let's go."

"Can Ah put some damn pants on please? And don't ya dare light that cigar in this room!"

"Hurry up."

"Ah'm coming!"

"Take your shoes too."

"Nuh-uh! Ah do not feel like traipsin' out in the woods at four o'clock in the mornin'!"

"Quit whinin'. You tryin' to wake the whole house up?"

"Shit! Ah'm up!"

"You dressed?"

"Yeah, Ah'm dressed!"

"No gloves?"

"….."

"Yeah, I thought as much."

Rogue stumbled out behind Logan into the darkness--trying her best to see her way towards him…trying to make him see the path she was forced to choose. "Don't you dare judge me, Logan!" Tears of fury framed her green eyes--two sparkling verdant windows to her soul.

Indifferent, Wolverine turned to look past them at the long dark hallway that stretched out behind the two. "I say anything?"

"Might as well have."

The two ambled out towards the patio to a surprisingly quiet and serene sky. Thick pink clouds drew together like spun candy in the syrupy pool of sapphire night. They watched the heavens for a time.

Rogue spoke first.

"Ah needed to do this, Logan. It was better for the team, an' it was better for me. Ah wasn't mahself."

"Don't use the team as an excuse for you goin' out to the institute, darlin'."

"Ah ain't…Ah ain't." Rogue paused and stood transfixed as a light rain began to fall. She tried to form an argument in her mind--and could find none. "There ain't no excuse to give. Ah ain't done this for nobody but me. Ah needed a life, Logan. Ah needed a future. Mah powers weren't no good to nobody."

"So get rid of 'em, right? Forget about what you are." Logan snorted. Acrid smoke from a thick Dominican cigar blasted through his nose.

The sky grew darker.

Rogue's angry eyes blazed as her emerald flecks snared the powerful light that showered from the pool. "Let me tell you somethin', Logan…Ah might be ashamed of some of the things Ah've done, but Ah'm damn sure not ashamed of mah being a mutant. We clear on that?"

These women were going to kill him one day. "Crystal. But it ain't natural, darlin'…what you went ahead an' done."

"Since when the hell you been natural? Natural like that adamantium ya been thinkin' 'bout day and night? Ain't none of us natural!" She sucked her teeth in annoyance. "Look, Ah ain't even discussin' it with ya anymore. All ya need to know is that Ah'll be able to work with the team, since Ah still got Danver's powers an' all." Rogue watched Logan's shoulders harden like resin as she mentioned Carol Danver's name. Slowly--tentatively--she slipped her hand within his. Skin against skin. She cleared her throat and spoke to him with soft words. "So what ya bring me out heah for?"

A sudden shot rang out amidst the stars. The sky split open; hail poured from the atmospheric wound. Rogue jumped as thunder railed against the night sky and the heavens thrashed the earth raw with white-hot bull-whips of lightning.

Logan bent over to fish a sodden cigarette from the pool. "Cajun's come home."

********

Storm streamed through the forest, leaving a trail of pungent blood behind her that rushed from her raw knuckles. She winced as the cold gusts hit her open wounds, then instinctively reached out to stroke and shape the winds--warming them…softening their blow. As she connected with the weather, Storm immediately remembered who and what she was, and cut through the sky, as her legacy would befit. She was a servant of the goddess of life, and would remain one--if she could reach her destination in time…

********

Bruja. It was the first word that sprang to the mind of Cecilia Reyes as she opened her bedroom door to find Ororo's wild eyes staring back at her. She remembered the leathery skin and piercing eyes of the old women in her native island of Puerto Rico--the women her grandmother had ushered her past quickly and spoke of in hushed tones. Her abuela had called them the ones who knew. She had called them witches.

"Logan should be bringing a wounded man into the medical lab shortly. Attend to him."

"Girl, look at your hands! Let me see what--"

"I am fine. This man, it is imperative that you keep a force-field around him at all times."

Cecilia shook her head. "Ororo, I don't know if I have enough control over my powers to--"

Storm's eyes sliced into Reyes's soul like a dry scalpel. "Perhaps you did not realize that I am not asking you, Cecilia. I am telling you."

"I…" Rebuked, Reyes carefully gathered her medical bag and several journals in her arms. She lowered her gaze and slipped past Storm quietly--focusing on the crimson blood that spilled across the floor. Those wild eyes would not get the chance to dissect her again--not if she could help it. Pride kept Cecilia's back straight as she walked away. Fear kept her mouth shut. Cecilia Reyes had learned one important thing so long ago en el campo.

One didn't mess with brujas.

********

Storm propped her battered hand against the wall for support and staggered through the dark hallway. She moved quickly, struggling to accomplish her task before she could lose anymore blood. Her lips were too soon turning cold, and she found that she did not have the strength to stop the raging storm she had summoned only minutes before.

And though the body was weak, her mind was strong. Storm's thoughts were blessed with a sense of clarity and certainty that she had always wished for as a leader--that she had always felt that others, such as Cyclops and Cable, had. She wondered for a moment if the clarity was characteristic of one who was dying, then shook such morbid thoughts from her mind. She knew what must be done, and where she must go to do it. She had reached the end of the hallway. Cautiously, Storm fingered the crude carvings on the cellar door, then flicked the latch open and descended down the cellar stairs…

********

"What d'you want?" The voice of Marrow was a twisted thing--biting and raw. It was forged from years of pollution, nurtured by hate…sharpened by violence.

"To converse with you."

"That why you down here in the basement, pretty-pretty?"

"Yes."

"Then talk." Marrow released the mouse she was toying with and watched as it scuttled towards a crack in the basement's foundation. She smiled. It was a rare occurrence to hold court with the bright lady. She would make the most of it. Marrow held a greasy beer bottle up towards Storm's face and smirked as the X-Leader grimaced with nausea. "Drink?"

Storm waved the bottle away. "No."

"My court. My rules. You talk, you drink." Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she watched her adversary take the rancid liquid to her lips.

Storm choked, spilling the grain alcohol across open wounds still bathing in her spent blood. She winced. "Is this amusing to you, Marrow?"

"For now. Talk."

Storm sighed and focused on the lone small window at the top of the basement wall. As long as she remembered there was sky behind it, she would be safe. "Gambit has returned."

Marrow drew a long thin dagger from between her eyes. "He's come a long way to die, wind-rider."

"He is injured…badly. It is--"

"And tell me why I give a fuck?"

"Because I am standing in his place."

Marrow snorted. "You would die for a murderer?"

Storm's eyes narrowed to thin slits in response. "My brother did not murder anyone! In fact, he saved your--"

"SHUT UP!" Marrow closed in upon the dank space between the two women, a calcium dagger tightly clenched within her fist. Covered in the blood and mucus that cushioned it when it was still embedded in Marrow's skull, the blade glistened in the dirty moonlight that oozed from the dull windowpane. Marrow shoved Storm to the floor--smashing her hand against the woman's chest, feeling Storm's heart beat inches from her palm--and jerked the dagger across the X-Leader's smooth bronze neck.

"You like cuttin' up throats, don'tcha, ya little bitch?"

Marrow looked up.

Snikt.

Three claws.

Darkness.

********

EPILOGUE

It had been two weeks and Gambit could still feel the pain of Storm's fist against his jaw. He gingerly pulled his shirt over his head, making sure as not to graze his skin with the coarse white cloth. He dropped the sweatshirt onto the dew-soaked grass and sat upon it. Looking out at the pond at twilight, Gambit remembered just how much he had missed Salem Center and how much the grounds had become not just the place he lived, but his home.

The surroundings seemed glad to see him as well. The sweet music of nightingales carried across the pond and the clouds parted to let the final dim rays of sunlight dance upon his taut frame. Gambit laughed at how lucky a bastard he truly was, and recklessly tossed Storm's earrings up into the air and caught them with his teeth. It was the seventh item he had stolen from Storm in the past week. Eventually, she would come and confront him about it and her silent treatment would end. Gambit had always been skilled at forcing hands.

"Ah oughta smack mah hand right across yoah eyes!"

Gambit looked up to see Rogue scowling down upon him. "Any way y'put your hands on me would be a pleasure, chere. Care t' try?"

"Ya supposed to be in bed."

"Dis jus' getting better an' better."

"Look! The only reason Ah'm out heah is 'cause the Doc forced me to come out heah. She can't stand to be around ya, so Ah got to be the one to drag ya back to bed an' make sure ya stay there!"

He could see a smile stirring at the corners of her mouth and decided to test the waters. "Then come an' get me." Gambit made his way out towards the pond, beckoning for her to come join him.

Rogue watched him with care, noting how his skin glowed like a specter's in the shade and how his eyes were a blaze of burning ash. She slipped into a sad smile and shook her head. "No. Ya lost yoah chance, Remy."

His grin flashed fluorescent in the oncoming darkness as she called out to him. "Chances always been something Gambit been real good at finding, chere. I think I can find a second one."

"We'll see, Remy. We'll see." Rogue smirked and pocketed the earrings pinned to Gambit's sweatshirt, then blasted off into the air. "Long as ya know you lost ya first."

********

"You are supposed to be in bed." Cecilia Reyes peered down at Storm over the rim of her thick brown glasses, and tried to appear as imposing as she could in a pair of mint green legwarmers and a light pink Flashdance T-shirt. The look didn't shout authority.

Storm smiled as she got up from the kitchen table. "I am fine, Cecilia, and would be even better if I was allowed to do some of the things I enjoy." She picked up her jacket from the back of her chair.

Reyes pulled it from her grasp. "Woman, you aren't allowed anywhere until I give you the okay."

"What's goin' on here?" Wolverine glanced at Cecilia once. Then twice. "That yer new costume?"

Her scowl met his grin. "Funny. You feel like taking this bruja up to bed? I gotta be at aerobics in twenty minutes."

"No problem."

"I am perfectly fi--"

"Quiet."

Storm leaned on Wolverine for support as the two made their way up the old oak stairs.

"Thought I bought you a cane."

"Gambit has stolen it."

"Nice. One flamin' troublemaker for another."

"He is merely trying to get my attention." She squeezed his shoulder. "Marrow has not yet returned?"

"Warren called early this mornin'. Found her sleepin' in the alley outside his apartment. She musta told him 'bout Gambit comin' home, 'cause they're drivin' up from Manhattan tonight."

"How did Warren sound?"

"Pissed as all get out. Round two's 'bout to start."

"I shall handle--"

"You shouldn't be handlin' nothin'. Cajun's not a child, 'Ro. Needs to clean up his own mistakes. Don't you think you went an' done enough?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Storm pulled free of Wolverine's embrace and stepped into the room. They had reached her bedroom door. Standing at the attic's threshold, Wolverine scanned the quarters with mournful eyes. It had been one week since he had seen her bed--and two since he had taken pleasure in it. Stiff stalks of foliage and the bright petals of flowers exploded in the air, twisting around the mahogany limbs of the frame. Slowly, he moved into the room.

"It means I thought we weren't puttin' anyone between what we got goin' on here."

Storm looked up from her plants. His words seemed familiar--touching upon a distant unpleasant memory. It upset her. She snapped at him. "Logan, I have responsibilities to this team and to this family that--"

"An' I guess our happiness ain't worth a damn to you, right?" Wolverine's finger stabbed at the scar that trailed along Storm's neck like jagged lightning. "Is it your responsibility to try an' get yerself killed every time the Cajun goes an' screws up?"

A white eyebrow arched. "How many times must we go over this, Logan?"

"Until I understand it."

"The wound was superficial, and I knew it would be! Marrow pulled back, and she will pull back when she encounters Gambit too!"

"An' if she'd slammed that flamin' blade right through the center o' yer throat? Where'd we be then?"

"I am not so sure I like where we are now! Goddess, Logan! Since when has every second in our lives been ruled by what if?"

"Since I started lovin' you! That's when!"

Silence.

Storm studied Logan, watched his muscles tense underneath tan skin. She could see how much he thought he loved her. Thought he loved her--for no man was going to love her the way she wanted to be loved. Unconditionally, completely. Not Forge, not Cable. Not Logan. She understood that now. Storm closed her eyes and wondered how long it would take Logan to leave her. A month? A year? She shook her head. She couldn't lose this man. She loved this man above all others--completely, unconditionally. So instead of losing him…she would push him away.

"Logan, I am leader of the X-Men. I--"

"Cannot shirk my responsibilities no matter what the cost?"

"How did you...?"

Wolverine laughed bitterly. "M'iko said the same thing a few weeks 'fore she died."

Tears fell from ivory eyes. "Logan, you cannot hide someone from death simply because you love them."

"Neither can you." He set a small box on the floor. "I'll show myself out."

********

Four women. Four hearts…one bleeding, two cold, and one broken. Rogue, Reyes, Psylocke and Storm lay underneath the solitary moon and let the rush of romantic memories wash over them.

"Your man should always love you more than you love him. Keeps you from getting hurt later on down the line." Reyes punctuated her point by stabbing the sky above with the tortilla chip she clasped between her fingers.

Psylocke smiled craftily. "So if the relationship ends, it won't matter, because you weren't heavily invested in it anyway."

"Exactly. Girl, it's like you read my mind!"

"I try."

Rogue snorted. "Just listen to y'all with yoah investments. Love ain't like no damn bank. Ya give yoah all, and sometimes ya just don't get nothin' in return. Ya love to love."

"What kind of hokey southern sentiment is that?"

"One, one that means somethin', and two, one that ain't meant for ya no way. It was meant for Storm." Rogue glanced at the fragile creature huddled by the pool's edge. Storm hadn't said a word since Wolverine left earlier that evening, and Rogue was at her wits' end because of it. "Ya okay, hon'?"

Silence.

"Rogue, why don't you just leave her alone?"

"'Cause she needs to talk about it, that's why!"

Storm sighed. "I am fine, Rogue."

"Are ya sure ya--"

The X-Leader was in the sky before Rogue could detect an answer.

"I told you she wanted to be alone."

"An' what do you know, Reyes? Storm don't know what she wants nowadays. Ah'm going after her."

Cecilia pulled another chip from the bag. "Suit yourself. I didn't learn about broken hearts in med school."

Psylocke fondled Cecilia's braids softly and smiled. Warren wouldn't be there for another hour and she needed something to occupy her time. "Stay here for a while. Xavier's has a seminar on it."

********

Storm moved through the empty house and watched shadows and ghosts hang from the barren walls like eternal vagrants. A few sparse lights were on, most leading the way to the patio or to the garden where many of the X-Men were gathered. Storm climbed the stairs to the women's quarters, accompanied only by the swell of blaring music from Cecilia's stereo.

"If no one is in here, then the radio should not be on!" Storm knew no one was there to hear her reprimand, but it comforted her to know that her mothering role was instantly reinforced. Gently cupping her ears, she slipped into Cecilia's room and shut the stereo off.

Screams of protest barraged Cecilia's open window.

Storm smiled. She clicked the radio back on. "Sorry!"

As Storm's thoughts drifted to her family below, her smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Marrow and Angel would arrive at the mansion in no less than an hour, sped on by the fuel of vengeance. Gambit would most likely become the target of their ire. Storm sighed. If only everyone had time to calm down. If only she had the time to change what she had done.

"Ah knew Ah'd find ya! What're ya doin' in heah?"

Storm pointed to the stereo. "Dealing with that!"

"Funny." Rogue picked up the empty cassette box sitting on the speaker. She frowned. "Judy Torres. Ugh! Sounds like a whole bunch of wailin' to me."

"It is no worse than what you listen to." Storm slipped through the open window.

"Where you goin'?"

"Skies."

Rouge tossed the box on the bed. "Ah'm comin' too."

********

They loitered on clouds like wayward angels.

"Ah sent Remy off with Maggott to look for Logan like ya asked."

"They will not find him."

"Ah know. He'll come back on his own, sugah. He knows ya didn't mean what ya said. Hell, half the things Ah said to Remy Ah didn't mean."

Storm glanced at Rogue out of the corners of her eyes. "Is Remy well?"

Rogue grinned. Storm still cared for Gambit, no matter how much she said she didn't. "He's okay. Looks like someone beat him one too many times with the ugly stick--which is good. Keeps me from gettin' wrapped up in him all over again." She glanced up at the flickering stars and wondered if Remy was doing the same. "Ah worked it out Storm. Didn't hafta tear the sky apart like some people round heah, but Ah worked it out just the same."

Storm smiled weakly. "Instead of resolving my problems, it seems as if I am creating new ones."

"Ain't nothin' written in stone, gal. Ya know that well as Ah do." Rogue pulled a small white box from her shirt pocket and tossed it into the air. "Catch."

"What is--?"

"Ah swiped it from Gambit, who swiped it from yoah room. You'd better have a talk with that boy. Pretty soon ya ain't gonna have no more stuff left to steal."

Storm didn't answer her. Her hands caressed the white satin box, the cool pads of her fingers traveling against the grain. Slowly, she pulled the box open to reveal a smooth silver ring nestled in velvet folds. Its glimmer reflected the echo of pale moonlight. Storm gasped. Adamantium. Her fingers traced over the inscription as Logan's words danced with the tears in her eyes. When you need me…I'm here.

"Oh, Logan…" Her chance had not yet been lost.

Rogue grinned. "Well? What is it?"

The ring slipped past Storm's slender finger. "It is enough."

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