Saturdays

SATURDAYS CHAPTER THREE (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies and BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE (tm), Tim said something like "Bowler? I've got your bowler!" and made Billy and Joaquin take him to the mall... I'm not sure, but I think he's trying to prove something... InterNutter, TC and Maxwell Pink make me quiver like jelly because they archive. :) Readers/Reviewers: I have armadillos massing at my feet...They seem to think I'm some sort of mobile meeting point. The ducks are irate-they demand amnesty from the armadillos but the Killer Kitties (tm) and their Minions (tm) are blocking the ducky embassy...


Logan/Storm

"I don't understand why I'm doing this." Storm held the tool gingerly between two fingers, letting it dangle over the inner workings of Jee Jeep like so much dead weight.
"For the same reason I let you teach me how to transplant crap in the greenhouse." Logan took the ratchet from her hand and adjusted her grip by force. "Love's a bitch, ain't it?"
"Not quite the phrase I'd use..." she said under her breath. "Which thingy am I turning?"
"You're not turning anything...you're," he was cut off by a sharp shriek from Storm. "You're spraying oil all over yourself," he sighed. "You turned it."
Storm turned slowly towards Logan, ratchet clutched so tightly that her knuckles where white, an arc of motor oil splattering her hair and back even as she spoke. "I am going inside. I am going to shower. I am going to..." she glanced down at her ruined clothing, "throw these things away. Then, and only then, will I think about talking to you."
Logan sighed and watched her go before reaching into the car and unturning what she had turned to stop the flow of oil. "I potted plants for that woman..."

Logan found her sitting in the gazebo on the far side of the gardens, a cup of tea clutched tightly in her hands and her hair still damp from the shower. "You mad at me?"
She raised one brow and said, not looking at him, "I'm mad at myself."
"Why?" Logan sat next to her, though just out of arm's reach. "You didn't know that was going to happen."
"I had an idea. But I'm mad because..." she sighed and took a sip of her cooling tea, "I'm mad because I'm almost thirty years old and I'm still sheltering myself inside this cocoon of nature and botany and..." she gestured around, trailing off. "I am too old to be afraid of machinery!"
Logan turned this over in his mind, his first and foremost thought being, _She's almost thirty? I thought she was older than that...then again, what the fuck do I care about age? _ This thought was followed by _Afraid? Storm is afraid of something? _ "You know," he said slowly, trying to find the right words and not make her even more annoyed, "I think you're approaching this whole thing wrong. You see cars and junk as these beasts to be conquered. They're really more like...like sex!"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Like sex."
"If this is a joke about oil or lubrication, this tea is going all over your lap."
Logan snorted. "Perish the thought." He moved closer and laid his hand on her knee casually, pretending not to notice their proximity. "Think about it, though...Cars are complicated and only run when everything is in the right place..."
"Sex, while potentially complicated, is nothing like a car. Or a lawn mower or any other piece of machinery you can think of." She took another sip of her tea and said, "Sex is more like spaghetti."
"Uh..."
"Warm, comforting, slightly squishy and a little messy."1
She said it with such seriousness that Logan was not sure if he should respond flippantly or not. The tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth was his undoing though. "Spaghetti, huh? What about chicken soup?"
"Too watery. And I'm a vegetarian so I couldn't say if sex was actually like chicken soup or not."
"Both involve..."
"If you say meat..."
"I was going to say preparation!" he lied, coloring slightly.
"Mmmm." She took a final sip of her tea and put it to one side, turning to consider him with a look of deep concentration. "Sex is ...g...gardening."
"Let me guess...dirty?"
"Only if you do it right."
Logan burst out laughing, the prim and proper Ororo Munro surprising him with her frank words. "Oh, really?"
"Sex is like gardening because it only works out well if you put time and consideration and feeling into it."
He paused then, not wanting to disillusion her with his own point of view on the matter of sex needing time and feeling to work well, borne from much experience. He decided to gloss over that and let her have her ideals, instead saying "Sex is like beer."
"Why's that?" Storm tilted her head to one side and smiled a little half-smile at him, turning to tuck her knees up under her chin and regard him with an avid expression.
"Well, because...um..." He was reaching, he knew. He had chosen beer because he had sorely wanted to go in and get one and it was the first word that popped out of his mouth. "Sex is like beer because I like them both."
Storm snickered. "I suppose sex is also like a cigar then..."
"Only to Bill and Monica."2 Logan leaned closer, close enough that he could per per and still be heard clearly, "Sex with you is nothing like that."
She went very still. "What is it like?"
He smiled slowly. "You're there...you should know."
"I know what sex is like with you for me. What's it like with me for you?"
"It's...well...it's hard to explain. It'd be easier for me to say what it's not like." Her raised eyebrows made him sigh. "Guess that means you want me to keep talking...well, it's not something I do just because. It's not a quick fuck in the bathroom at the bar while people are pounding on the door to get in. It's not some bad motel room off the interstate near where I just won some damned cage match. It's not hard liquor and cigarettes and uncertainty and desperation and loathing..." He paused, realizing that he was saying more than he had intended and more than she needed to hear. "It isn't lonely," he said finally.
Storm reached for him and pulled him close by virtue of her hand on the back of his neck. Her kiss surprised him in it's heavy innocence and naked want, soft and hard at the same time as she looked at him, not closing her eyes as she usually did, despite the intensity of the moment. He finally shut her gaze out when he felt his hands tremble on his knees, clutching her waist then to keep them from shaking. She made a murmuring noise in the back of her throat and parted her lips for him, leaning back without breaking the kiss. She rested against the wooden side of the gazebo, not noticing the discomfort it should cause because of her focus on him and him alone. Logan felt her breathing quicken and inhaled deeply of the musk of her skin, her arousal and her breath, scented with peppermint and black tea. Her hands slid down his back to knead at the base of his spine, pushing him against her almost without meaning to.
Logan broke the kiss only to taste of her neck, the mild trace of powder doing nothing to diminish his enjoyment of her skin. Her legs were around his thighs before he noticed her moving them, so enrapt was he with the hitches in her breathing and tiny vocalizations as he nipped and laved her throat, rolling an erect nipple between his thumb and forefinger through the fabric of her long caftan. She arched her back, pressing her breast into his hand as she raised her hips against his arousal. She rubbed slightly against him in invitation but he hesitated. "Ro," he said between kisses, "you want to go inside?" It was not like her to be overt and wanton and he was quite prepared to put a halt to thinntilntil they could get back to her room and on a bed, between proper sheets.
"Not really," she said, smiling. "We won't be caught like the kids..." As she spoke, her eyes went white and a low rumble of thunder sounded. Logan grinned as fat raindrops began to pelt the roof of the gazebo, the few clouds in the sky rolling and twisting into a thunderhead. "Being a goddess has it's advantages."
"So I see," he said, returning his attentions to her throat, ignoring the few drops that were making their way through the slats of the roof and onto his exposed skin as he parted the fastenings of her caftan to access her breast. She sighed as he first licked, then suckled, her dark nipple, working the garment upwards as he did so to expose her center to his searching fingers. He was not exactly surprised that she had on no underwear. _The woman ran around virtually naked in Africa for most of her life...I think she and underthings aren't on speaking terms. _ He pushed against her slick folds and found that spot that made her gasp sharply, rising against him to give him greater access to her depths. He bit her nipple gently as she moved against him, rising as he pulled away and falling as he pushed towards her. With nary a break in his attentions, Logan freed himself from his jeans and pulled Storm closer, rubbing the head of his length against her wet heat. She murmured something so low that even he could not hear it and sighed, parting her legs just a little further. It was all the encouragement he needed. As the rain fell harder, Logan entered her, feeling her fingers tighten on his backside to hold him closer, deeper inside her. Slowly, he began to move, gradually increasing his pace as she whispered encouragements, demands, giving him what he wanted from her as she took from him.
He captured her hard nipple again, drawing it between his teeth and scraping it just enough to make her cry out sharply, losing all of her pacing and thrusting against him wantonly as he nuzzled her, nibbling the sensitive flesh as he met her thrust for thrust. He knew her climax was near as the weather became nearly blinding outside the gazebo, the rain pouring nearly black from the sky and the thunder rolling nearly constantly. Her sudden gasp and clutch at his back coincided with what was quite possible the brightest and most impressive flash of lightening Logan had ever known. She continued moving against him until he could no longer withstand the feeling of flesfleshy heat around him, his climax rapidly building and dispersing before he could form her name on his lips. As they lay, still joined, on the wooden gazebo seat, the storm outside slowly faded to a drizzle, then blue sky. "Sex is," she said finally, "nothing like any of that."
He chuckled softly, kissing her breast one more time before pulling away, covering her with her caftan as he did so. "Sex is going to get us busted by one of these kids if we don't get dressed and back inside soon."
"Sex is," she said, smiling teasingly, "a good way to spend a Saturday."
"So is learning how to fix a car," he said blandly, taking her hand as they stepped out of the gazebo.
"That's what you think..."Tel"Tell you what," he said when they reached the back patio, pulling her to a halt and considering the sky as if it held all the answers he would ever need, "I'll lay off trying to teach you to fix a car, even the most basic stuff, if you promise me that you'll easteast try to get over your fear of machines."
"And how would I do that?" she asked, smiling faintly.
"Sounds like an impossible situation to me...so Car Repair 101 next weekend?"
"Only if you don't mind another thunderstorm."

1 Someone actually said this to me once. I wasn't sure if I should laugh or not. I think I will now.
2 Raise your hand if you're not familiar with what Bill Clinton asked Monica Lewinsky to do with that cigar...