What's in a Name?

by Lady J

Logan was walking by Ororo's classroom when he heard a burst of laughter come through the open door. A gaggle of girls, including Marie, were clustered about Ororo's desk, giggling madly. When Kitty Pryde turned around and saw Logan, her hands flew to her mouth and she quickly suppressed her laughter. She turned back to the group and whispered too low for even Logan to hear. Her furtive behavior was enough to make the older man suspicious.

"What’re you girls up to?" Logan asked as he stepped into the room.

That just sent the group into a fresh round of giggles. His eyes searched for and then pinned Marie to her spot. She met his gaze with wide-eyed innocence that he just knew was fake.

"We're not doing anything, Logan," Marie said in her soft Southern drawl, "just hangin', you know."

The older man thrust his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels. "Ororo know you're in here?"

"Oh, yeah, we were just waiting for her to come back..." Kitty replied, letting her voice trail off. She looked back at the other girls. "Um, but, we gotta go. Right?"

A chorus of "yeahs" answered this transparent lie but Logan let it go. "Well, okay, get going."

The girls quickly scooted by him and into the hallway. Marie was last to go. She flashed him a brilliant smile and ran after her friends.

Logan had to smile at that. Marie had blossomed since coming to Xavier's. And he had to admit that he himself had begun to feel a small measure of peace when he went to bed at night. It had been a year since they had lost Jean but the wounds had finally begun to really heal and Logan found himself becoming more interested in the lives of the others around him.

Especially one in particular.

"Logan?"

The husky voice took him by surprise. He turned to see Ororo standing in the doorway, texts books and a note pad tucked in the crook of her arm. A brief smile touched her lips. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard some of the girls in here and stopped to see what they were up too."

Ororo brushed by him leaving a trail of citrus in her wake. His nose twitched as he picked up the scent. "I see," she replied. "I thought they would still be here when I got back. We were going to have lunch but I guess we’ll do it on another day." She placed her books on her desk and sat down.

Logan walked down the aisle and sat down at one of the desks in the front row which gave him an unimpeded view of the younger woman. Over the past few months, Ororo had let her snow-white hair grow out from the shoulder length cut she had habitually worn. Now, her hair was well on it’s way to growing down her back. Some small part of Logan noted the change and truth be told he liked the way it made her look. Today she had it drawn back in a ponytail and secured with a brass holder.

Of all the people at Xavier’s school, Ororo was the one Logan liked to hang out with the most. She intrigued him, not just on a physical level; her beauty was so much a part of her that to single it out for recognition would almost do her a disservice. It was something else that drew him, something more elemental. He couldn't put his finger on it but for the moment he was content to leave things as they were.

Ororo straightened her desk preparing for the next day's classes when her eyes spied the open dictionary at one corner. She pulled it toward her and looked at it then at Logan. Looking down at the book again she smiled.

Logan was on his feet in an instant. "What? What the hell is it?" he growled.

"I think I found why the girls were so...amused," she replied, her voice heavily laced with humor.

He stalked over to her desk. "Well? What is it, woman?"

One snowy white eyebrow arched upward at his outburst. Ororo turned the dictionary so that he could see it for himself. A single entry was circled in red pen:

"wol.ver.ine (n.) - a strong, stocky Northern Hemisphere carnivore of the weasel family."

Logan grunted and looked at Ororo. "I ain’t a weasel," he grumbled.

"But you are strong," she replied thoughtfully as she eyed him. "And as for stocky, well…"

"Don't *even* go there, Ororo."

Bright blue eye met his. "A little sensitive are we?" she asked teasingly.

A new scent tickled Logan’s nose, mingling lightly with the citrus. It was sharp and musky and Logan had smelled it many times before on many different women. His eyes narrowed and he slipped around Ororo’s desk to stand in front of her. He placed both hands on the arms of her chair for balance then leaned in. Ororo held her ground, cocking her head back so she could look him right in the eye.

"You flirting with me?"

The air stilled with anticipation.

She covered his hands with her own, effectively trapping them on the chair arms.

"And if I was flirting with you, Logan? What would you do about it?"

Okay, hotshot, what the heck are you gonna do now? Logan’s mind chose that exact moment to weigh in on the situation. ‘Ro’s got your number.

Logan quickly took stock: Ororo definitely was flirting with him and she had no problem with bouncing the ball back into his court. He could tell she was serious by the tilt of her head and the gleam in her eye. Still, he wasn’t going to let her get the upper hand. At least not yet.

He leaned in closer until they were practically kissing. “Well, darlin, if I really thought you were flirting, I’d expect you to ask me out on a date.”

Take that!” his mind chuckled evilly

.

Suddenly, Ororo slipped her hands under his wrists and pushed up from her chair, catching Logan by surprise. He had to take a step back so he wouldn’t fall over she moved so quickly.

“A date?” the younger woman asked. “Would you go on a date with me, Logan?”

Her long fingers had wrapped around his wrists, holding him lightly. Her eyes pinned him in place. It was almost hypnotic; he who usually was the hunter found himself in the curious position of being the prey.

Logan swallowed quickly and found his voice, “Uh, yeah…I mean yeah, I’d go on a date with you.”

She let him go. “Good. Are you free Friday afternoon?”

Logan nodded. Ororo drew a single finger down Logan’s beard-roughened jaw, down his chin to the beating pulse in his neck. She looked at him demurely from beneath her lashes, her gaze warm. “Lunch, my treat,” she said and sat back down in her chair.

The older man drew a deep breath, shook his head as if to clear it and narrowed his gaze at Ororo. “Neat trick, ‘Ro,” he growled, uncomfortable from having lost control of the situation.

She only smiled and pulled some papers towards her to grade. Logan quickly ran a hand through his hair and beat a hasty retreat.

He thought he heard a soft laugh follow him as he left but he could have been mistaken.


Disclaimer: Marvel owns the characters of the X-Men. I own the situations I’m putting them in. I make no money and wrote this only for the fun and enjoyment of other fans.