Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men. That is all.

Author's Note: I just figured that since everyone seemed to like my first fic, and I still had so much more of the story to tell, I'd go ahead and make a sequel. Hope that you all enjoy.

xXx

She felt as though she was going to die, or, at the very least, she wished that she could. Ororo's entire body had rebelled against her. She compared this to a feeling of having been beaten up; the spinning sensation in her head turned the bathroom into a whirling white-and-gold Hell, and she felt like she'd been socked in the gut. Holding onto the sides of the toilet for dear life, she prepared for the next wave of vomit, which came sooner than she had expected. Leaning over the toilet, she tried not to gag, to do it quietly, so that she wouldn't awaken her boyfriend, who slumbered in the room beyond the bathroom's door.

Even while trapped in the prison which, ultimately, he had put her in, Ororo was still putting Logan's needs above her own. He'd had a rough night; tossing and turning in the fever of a particularly gruesome nightmare from which she had not been able to shake him. He woke up screaming, sobbing into her bosom, and it had taken nearly an hour to soothe him back to sleep. Right now, Logan needed rest as much as she needed Pepto-Bismol.

Ororo gazed into the bowl of the toilet, disgusted by the thin, brownish-yellow bile-and-stomach-acid combo floating in the water. She blinked and shook her head lightly, putting the lid down and flushing. Shivering from her illness, she fell back against the wall, curling herself into a little ball, with her knees clutched to her chest.

"Oh, Logan," she whispered, "what have we done? What are we going to do?"

As if on cue, a knock on the door made her jump.

"'Ro…you okay in there?" Logan asked, his voice thick and groggy.

"Oh, um…yeah," she replied, "I'm all right. Do you need the bathroom?"

"Yeah, if you can spare it," he said. Ororo couldn't help but smile.

"Well, of course," she giggled, getting up and opening the door for him, "Enjoy."

He rolled his eyes and reached out to rumple her short, already tousled platinum tresses. She gave him a soft smile and went to her dresser, rummaging through her underwear drawer. Ororo figured that she might as well go down to the dining room and have some breakfast, even if she knew that she wouldn't keep any of it down. She felt absolutely famished, and, besides, she needed to eat. "Maybe some of those chocolate pastries that the cooks make every morning," she thought. Usually she made an effort to stay away from empty calories, but, with things in their present situation, she figured that if she was going to eat, she might as well have something that she could enjoy…twice.

"I'm going downstairs to get something to eat," Ororo told Logan as soon as he emerged from the bathroom, "would you like to come?"

"No," he shook his head, "I feel like I got run over by a freight train. If ya don't mind, I'd like to sleep a little longer."

"Fine with me," she replied, "you need the rest, anyway."

He nodded, climbing back into bed and re-settling himself amongst the Egyptian cotton sheets. She turned around, to offer to bring something from the dining room up for him, but he had already fallen back into slumber. Ororo smiled. "Sleeping like a…oh, never mind," she said to herself, shaking her head. The word "baby" rolled over and over in her head as she threw the day's undergarments onto her side of the bed and crossed to her closet.

Upon opening the doors, she felt the onset of yet another bout of dizziness. "No…no…" Ororo willed her stomach to settle itself, leaning against the frame of the closet until it had passed. "Thank the Goddess that it's Saturday. I don't have any classes that I'd have to find a substitute for, and I've got two days to rest and think before I have to cross that bridge," she thought as she picked out her clothes.

xXx

"Hi, Professor Monroe!" Ororo was greeted enthusiastically by several of her students as she entered the dining room. She gave all of them smiles and the appropriate responses as she made her way to the faculty table.

"Hey there, Ororo," John Macmillan, the non-mutant teacher of Biology, greeted her when she took her place at the head of the table. Several other teachers looked up from their plates to either give her a wave, a smile, or a salutation.

"Well hello. How is everyone this morning?" she asked, placing a napkin in her lap and taking two pastries from the platter nearest her. Ororo was glad that the conversation in the room was just loud enough to cover the rumbling of her hungry stomach, but not so loud that it upset her headache. Normally she would have employed the aid of some form of mild painkiller, but, at this point, she was wary of taking any medications at all until she could get to a doctor. Unconsciously, she pressed a hand against her forehead and closed her eyes.

"You alright, Ororo?" John asked, noticing her odd behavior.

"Hmm? Oh, oh yes, I'll be fine. I think I might be coming down with…er…that little virus that some of the students have had," she replied, thanking her lucky stars that the recent and identical illnesses that had been plaguing many of the students gave her something to use to placate anyone who showed concern on her behalf.

"Ah, yeah. Almost all of my classes, there's at least a couple of kids missing because of that," said John, reaching for the bottle of ketchup to pour onto his eggs. Ororo watched the thick, red liquid as it oozed out of the bottle's squeezable cap. Suddenly, the pastry that she'd just finished off began to whirl around her belly like a cyclone. She hated ketchup even in the most ordinary of circumstances, but now…oh Goddess.

"John…" she said, her voice breathy, "don't tell me…you're going to…eat that."

"'Course I am," he replied, "I put ketchup on my eggs every morning, you know that."

"Oh…no…" Ororo stood up so quickly that she knocked her chair over, and ran from the dining room with one hand over her mouth. Several of the students gasped, and almost every head in the room turned as she passed. John just shrugged.

"Too bad for Ororo," he addressed the rest of the table, taking a bite of his eggs, "She never gets sick. Ah, well, guess it was just her turn. There's always something going around this school. So many people in one area…it's a breeding place for germs."