Chapter 194: Pirouettes and Pucks
The next morning sunlight spilled through the great windows of Xavier's office. The team gathered, half curious, half uneasy. Xavier folded his hands on his desk, eyes calm but voice carrying weight.
"To ease Kitty's parents' concerns," he said, "I've arranged for her to enroll in a dance school. It is not a replacement for her training here, but rather a way to give her… normalcy."
Kitty's eyes lit up so fast it nearly broke the room in half. "Really? A dance school? For me?"
Her joy was a firework. Storm smiled softly, though a part of her chest tightened.
"Yes, child," Xavier said, his tone gentler now. "Stevie Hunter, the instructor, has agreed to take you under her guidance."
Kitty squealed, practically bouncing. "I can't believe it! Thank you, Professor!"
Logan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, mouth quirking in the faintest grin. 'Kid needed that spark. Good call, Chuck.'
Storm drove Kitty into town, the sleek car cutting through autumn air. Kitty chattered the whole way, words tumbling about routines she'd seen, how she always wanted to try ballet, how maybe she'd even dance on stage one day.
Storm's answers were smooth, practiced, supportive. But her hands gripped the wheel a little too tightly. 'Dancing will not take her from me. She is still ours. Still mine.'
They arrived at the studio where Stevie Hunter, warm smile and dancer's grace, welcomed them. Introductions flowed easy — Stevie's laughter was light, her eyes bright. Kitty slipped right under her wing like she'd been waiting her whole life. Storm watched, poised, polite, but her heart cracked at the edges.
Hours later the scene shifted.
Cyclops walked the beach with Lee Forrester, the salty breeze tangling her hair while he spoke in that quiet, searching way he had. "I never thought I'd find peace like this," he admitted, touching her hand.
Nightcrawler, meanwhile, laughed with Amanda Sefton in a candlelit café, tail flicking as he teased. "Ach, you ordered the largest dessert, liebchen. You expect me to help, yes?" She rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her.
Back at the mansion, Xavier worked late, bent over his monitors. His eyes traced lines of mutant data, his mind never leaving the fight for tomorrow.
And in the rink downtown, Logan and Colossus thundered across ice.
The big Russian barreled forward, stick cracking against puck. "Logan, you will not stop this shot!"
Logan grinned, sharp and feral even in a helmet. "Try me, tin man!"
The puck sang across ice. Logan lunged, claws sheathed but instincts raw, deflecting with a speed that made Colossus bark out a laugh.
"You cheat with those reflexes."
"Cry me a river, comrade." Logan flicked the puck back with a snap. "Game's about grit, not size."
Colossus skated by, shoulder-checking him with a grin. "Da. But sometimes size helps."
The crowd of normal folks watching had no idea they were looking at gods in disguise. To them it was just two men enjoying a game. And maybe, Logan thought, that was the point.
Night fell. Storm pulled the car to the curb outside the studio. She watched from the shadows as Kitty and Stevie stood in the doorway, arms looped around each other, laughter spilling bright into the night.
Storm's heart burned, jealousy coiled like a serpent in her chest. She kept her face composed when she waved, but her eyes lingered too long on the way Kitty leaned against Stevie like a daughter against her mother.
On the drive back, Kitty's voice bubbled, alive with joy.
"Stevie's amazing, Storm! She taught me how to hold my balance, and said I have real potential, can you believe it? She said she can't wait to see me tomorrow!"
Storm smiled, her words smooth as silk. "That is wonderful, child. I am glad you enjoyed yourself."
But her hands gripped the wheel tighter. And the storm inside her grew.
---
A week passed like a slow drip of water on stone. Every night Storm fetched Kitty from the studio, and every night she saw the same thing — Stevie Hunter's smile, Kitty's laughter, the hug at the door.
Storm tried to find fault. She watched Stevie's every move, every word. But there was nothing. Stevie was patient, kind, talented. Too perfect.
Storm liked her. That was the worst part. Liked her, but feared her. 'She will take the child from me. I can feel it. And yet… what sin is kindness?'
The tension built until she could no longer hold it alone.
One afternoon she found Logan sharpening his claws on a whetstone, lazy in the shade.
"Logan," she said, voice calm but eyes stormy, "I want you to accompany me when I pick Kitty up tonight."
Logan raised a brow. "Since when do you need a chaperone, darlin'?"
Her arms crossed, chin lifted. "I need your… senses. To confirm something."
He smirked. "So you wanted Chuck, but he'd say no, so you're stuck with me. I'm a spare nose."
Sparks flickered around her fingers, tiny lightning bolts snapping in the air. Her eyes narrowed. "What did you say?"
Logan straightened, mock-serious. "I said, you're lookin' real charming today. Different hair style?"
She huffed, but the spark in her eyes lingered. "Fool."
Evening came. They drove in silence at first, Kitty's chatter absent, the car heavy with unspoken weight. Logan tapped the dash idly, scenting the air as they neared the studio.
Kitty stood at the door with Stevie, the two laughing, Stevie's hand still resting on the girl's shoulder. Storm waved, elegant as ever, her mask perfect. But her eyes flicked to Logan.
"Well?" she asked lowly. "What do you smell?"
Logan tilted his head, sniffed once, twice. His brows furrowed.
Storm leaned closer, eyes hungry for confirmation. "She is suspicious, yes?"
Logan swatted at the air, growling. "Damn fly."
Storm's jaw dropped. She snapped her fingers and a tiny cloud materialized over Logan's head, dumping rain until he was soaked.
He sputtered, hair plastered, cigar ruined. "HEY! Babe, you'll blow our cover like that!"
"That," she said coldly, "is for your jokes."
Logan wiped water from his face, grinning even as it dripped from his nose. "Alright, alright. Truth, then. Stevie Hunter's as pure as vanilla. No schemes, no poison, not a trace of malice. You're only seein' shadows 'cause you're scared someone'll take the kid. But she's human, Ro. Normal. Kitty needs that. If you smother her, you'll do worse than lose her — you'll break her."
Storm's hand tightened on the wheel. The storm in her heart rumbled. "Then what… should I do?"
Her voice was quiet, stripped bare of thunder.
Logan watched her, for once no grin, no smirk. Just a man who'd lived too long and seen too much.
Before he could answer, Kitty and Stevie waved from the doorway, bounding down toward the car. Kitty's smile was the sun itself, all warmth, no shadow.
Logan leaned back, arms crossed, water still dripping from his jacket. His thought was silent, private, fierce.
'Ororo, you don't gotta do a damn thing. The kid already loves you. Nothin' on this earth's gonna change that.'