Author’s Note: All righty then… when we last left our
heroes, there was slashy goodness.
Well, guess what? Here’s
more! I promise that I’m moving the
plot along; just be patient. We’re
gonna eventually get to the real reason for this story. Can’t a girl take the scenic route while
she’s at it? ::rolls eyes:: Sheesh. People can be so impatient. ::grins facetiously:: Aww, you guys know I love ya. Anyway…
Please don’t ask to know what
the actual cards were that Wanda draws in her reading for Pie-Pie. I did the reading at the time, but I
left out what the cards were for artistic flow, and right now, I couldn’t
remember them all if I tried. Just
be assured that I didn’t pull that reading out of thin air and enjoy the
story.
This story takes place after
“Day of Reckoning”. It is erotica,
and therefore is not for the eyes of those under 18 or easily offended by sexual
situations, homo- or hetero-.
X-men: Evolution is the
property of the WB, Marvel comics, and several people that I’m probably
forgetting. You can’t sue me! I don’t have any money anyway, so it
wouldn’t do you any good. :-P There
are also random songfic elements to this story; the songs used (plus a few
others for good measure) are listed below and belong to their respective artists
and recording companies. If you do
not have these songs or have never heard them, AudioGalaxy is a free peer-to-peer mp3 site
where they can likely be downloaded.
I especially recommend the songs by Anathema, Godgory, Linkin’ Park,
Depeche Mode, Poe and Nickelback as theme music for Wanda.
Comments, questions, and
favorable reviews are encouraged.
Criticisms that are phrased civilly will be taken under advisement. Flames will be fueled with napalm and
returned, causing the offending keyboard to melt internally and be unable to
manufacture any further unchivalrous nonsense. You have been
warned.
Recommended Musical
Accompaniment: Play the Game-
Motorhead
It Doesn’t Even Matter- Linkin’ Park
Angry Johnny- Poe
Blasphemous Rumors- Depeche Mode
Dogma- KMFDM
How You Remind Me- Nickelback
Torpedoes- MDFMK
Empty- Anathema
Conspiracy of Silence- Godgory
Last Note of Freedom- David Coverdale
Nothing Else Matters- Metallica
Can I Touch You… There- Michael Bolton
To The Moon and Back- Savage Garden
Kurt woke that morning to the scent of breakfast and a gorgeous man. Lance had obviously woken early and gone
to the kitchen to prepare a tray for two, complete with juice, toaster pastries,
and oranges. It was a very sweet,
intimate thing to do, and Kurt blushed as Lance gathered him close for a warm
kiss.
“Morning.”
“Guten morgen,” Kurt murmured.
“You brought breakfast.”
“I figured you’d be hungry,” Lance replied, settling Kurt into his lap
and the tray into Kurt’s. “You got
quite a workout last night.” Kurt’s
blush turned brighter, earning a warm chuckle from Lance. “God, you’re beautiful when you
blush.”
Slowly, Kurt’s gaze turned up to Lance’s face. There was such… innocence in that
expression that Lance felt a surge of compassion and guilt. No one had ever cuddled him and told him
how lovely he was, how exquisitely soft his fur felt against their skin; the
beautiful German boy had no idea how perfect he really was… and the first person
to tell him so was only doing it because his other lover had pissed him
off.
In that moment, as Kurt’s pale eyes searched Lance’s darker ones for
sincerity, Lance wanted to stay here forever. To nestle with his fluffy blue elf and
be warm and safe and tell him over and over how cherished and lovely and
worthwhile he truly was. A thousand
images flashed through his mind:
moments of quiet domesticity, of hearth and home, maybe… maybe even
adopting another unwanted child, raising it with more love and tenderness than
he’d ever been shown… Much as it
scared the Hell out of him, a part of Lance desperately wanted that future…
wanted it enough to say ‘yes’.
“Yes what?”
Lance started; he’s spoken the thought aloud. Kurt was looking at him in
confusion. And then he suddenly
realized how crazy it would sound:
professing his sudden, undying love for the adorable elf after one night
of sex. Incredibly passionate,
intoxicatingly satisfying sex, true; but Kurt would never believe it. Swiftly, Lance shoved the tantalizing
fantasies away. “Yes, you are
beautiful, Kurt,” Lance recovered, as if that had been his meaning all
along. Taking up an orange, he
peeled it quickly and held a section to Kurt’s lips. “But… breakfast should get eaten, before
it gets ignored.”
Kurt blushed again, accepting the morsel from Lance’s fingers. Allowing himself a playful urge, he
snagged one of Lance’s fingers and suckled gently, swirling his tongue around
the tip. Lance groaned, ducking his
head to lick to curve of that delicately pointed ear. Kurt shivered as Lance swiftly moved the
tray before Kurt’s sudden erection could upset it. Ah-ha… an elfin hot spot. Lance curled the lobe into his mouth
like plucking a berry from the stem.
Kurt shivered. “What… what
about breakfast?”
“Devil breakfast,” Lance murmured hotly. His tongue traced the shell of Kurt’s
ear, drawing a long, low moan from the elf. “This is more
important.”
With a pleasant tremble, Kurt melted in Lance’s arms in hearty
agreement.
Several hours later, Lance was emerging from the showers when he noticed
Summers in the hall by Lance’s dorm.
The redhead was standing there with his arms crossed, obviously waiting
for someone. Taking a deep breath,
Lance walked over to his room. “You
waitin’ for me?”
“Yeah, I am.” Standing up
away from the wall, he reached up and nudged his glasses down just far enough to
blast Lance across the hall. Lance
gasped for breath as he hit the ground, rolling out into Scott’s legs as Scott
advanced on him and knocking the redhead to the floor. All at once, Scott disregarded his
mutant powers and simply attacked, wrestling with the brunette mutant out of a
purely selfish need to release his rage.
Their fight was far from quiet; they quickly drew the others into the
hall, where the younger mutants stared at them in shock. Wanda and Pietro were among the last to
arrive, Pietro nearly trampling people on his way through the crowd. But before even the speed demon could
intervene, a thunderclap rolled through the hall as the two elder mutants were
tossed apart by a sudden arc of lightening. Lance cursed in surprise as Scott choked
on the stench of ozone, each dragging himself up the wall in an effort to
reorient himself.
Storm strode through the crowd looking as angry as her name, her hair and
fingertips crackling from the residual static electricity of raising the
lightening. For a moment, she
simply looked from one boy to the other, her face a mask of fury. She then turned her head just slightly
to address the others. “Go
downstairs, all of you.” When the
younger mutants hesitated, startled by Storm’s rage, she barked an
additional: “Go!”
The others scattered like mice, leaving their leaders to face Storm’s
anger. When they were gone, Storm
rounded on the two boys.
“Idiots! Have you no sense
at all? Or are you determined to
knock it from each other’s heads?”
Scott struggled to stand, but Storm knocked him off-balance with a gust
of wind.
“Storm-”
“I don’t want to hear it!” Storm cut in, incensed. “You, of all people, Scott: the professor would be ashamed of
you. These kinds of petty squabbles
are uncalled for during times of such crisis, and unbecoming of he who would be
a leader of men. You ought to be
ashamed of yourself, putting your personal issues above the lives and safety of
those who follow you.
“And as for you, Lance, you’ve done absolutely nothing to alleviate this
untenable situation. Did you
honestly think that seducing Kurt, no matter what your motives, would have no
effect on his compatriots? And
don’t look so surprised; there may be more people living under this roof than
there were in the manor where Mystique housed you and your friends, but it
remains just as impossible to keep secrets for long, especially when absences at
the breakfast table are so easily noted.
“Now, as if the two of you weren’t already aware, we have lives to
save: lives of our friends and
companions. There will be no more
squabbling, no more outbursts of temper, no more pointless spitting
contests. The two of you will find
a way to work together, or neither one of you will be in charge of anything but
cleaning out the lavatories for a full year. Is that clearly
understood?”
Lance wanted to argue, to snap that Storm had no authority to either
order him around or punish him, but the weather witch looked a little too
intimidating at the moment. The
rock tumbler wasn’t fool enough to tempt her rage just now, and he was sick to
death of Summers’ high-and-mighty attitude anyway. Nodding silently, he watched as Scott
also grudgingly agreed, hauling himself off the floor and stalking away. Cautiously, Lance also stood. “I’m not going to apologize for anything
I’ve done,” he told Storm stubbornly.
“Your boy needs to learn to accept that the entire world isn’t going to
live by his supposedly superior moral code.”
Storm turned her pale blue eyes on Lance, and the rock tumbler fought off
the urge to squirm under their steady gaze. “He will learn, eventually,” she
replied. “And I’d be very
disappointed in you if you did apologize.
You’re far from a cruel young man, Mr. Alvers. Angry, yes; but not
cruel.”
Taking a deep breath, Lance walked past her into his room, closing the
door and locking it against the world.
In another part of the mansion, Wanda was curling her brother against her
chest, stroking his snowy hair as he wept against her. He’d stayed just long enough to find out
why Lance and Scott had been fighting, and the reason had broken his heart. He’d lost Lance. The one person who’d ever taken care of
him the way that his sister had when they were children, and he’d lost him to an
X-jerk. A furry blue bitch of an X-geek. Oh, God… God, I wanna
die…
It’s all right, Brother, Wanda soothed. You’re going to be all right. You don’t know what happened between
them; it might have been casual-
Lance doesn’t have casual sex anymore! Not since we… oh, God, Sister… he told
me he loved me… he told me he loved me and I couldn’t say it back and now he’s
left me…
Why didn’t you say it back, Brother? If you love him so, why couldn’t you say
it?
Because… I haven’t said it since Father sent you away…
Though it was a sobering thought, Wanda couldn’t help smiling just a
little at that. Pietro truly had
not forgotten what they had meant to one another. He had simply survived, but what their
father had forced him to sacrifice so that he might had left scars just as deep
as her own. There was certain
symmetry to that. Kissing him
softly on the forehead, Wanda wiped the tears from her brother’s azure
eyes. It will be all right, Brother. I promise. Why don’t I read the cards for you; tell
you what they see? Would that
help?
You… you can read the cards?
Agatha taught me; she thought it best, considering the domain of my
powers. Come on; blow your nose and
wipe your eyes while I get my deck.
Pietro complied, his still watery eyes watching his sister’s every move
while she opened her closet and reached into the pocket of a cloak she found
there. Rather than a cape like
their father’s, Wanda’s cloak was hooded and black as night, brushing the floor
even from the hook in the closet door.
Settling herself onto the floor, Wanda unwrapped her cards from their
cloth and spread the silk out. When
Pietro seated himself across from her, she handed her brother the cards. “Shuffle them three times in your right
hand, three times in your left, and three times in your right again; but don’t
bridge them. Concentrate on the
question you wish answered as you do so, and then give them back to me.” Pietro complied with his signature
swiftness, handing the cards back to Wanda before the last card had even settled
into its place in the deck. Wanda
chuckled to herself, then repeated the procedure, thinking on the question that
she knew he wanted answered: would
he and Lance ever be happy again?
Turning over nine cards in quick succession, Wanda’s mind quickly turned
over the meanings as she scanned them.
You found a new home, a place of
refuge, and it was there that you met someone with a love of romance, a person
who is strong of will and wants hearth and home. They wanted to reach towards a happy
life and inspired you to want the same; they gave you stability. But despite the progress you were making
together, you grew impatient, feeling the weight of those dreams resting too
heavily on your shoulders; in spite of the goal that was nearer than you
thought, you abandoned it and your dreams.
Now, in the aftermath of the upheaval that abandonment caused, you and
your lover will learn to cope with the consequences one day at a time. Things will never be the same between
you, but you will be at a new home and the current trouble will subside. The end of the road will be the happy
home that you both want.
But what about the furry blue
bitch? Pietro asked, startled by how accurate
Wanda’s reading had been.
Wanda collected her cards, then quickly shuffled them again, dealing out
only three this time. A fourth card
slipped from her deck, crossing the final card. For a moment, Wanda reached out to
remove it, but then simply set her deck aside, realizing its purpose. Though there has been a betrayal, it has forced a
necessary change in the path you and your lover were taking. A poorly made decision will force
someone into a situation of spiritual devastation, leaving them with nowhere to
go for warmth or caring and little confidence or hope after so many
misfortunes.
Who?
Wanda picked up her cards again, shuffling swiftly. She already had a good idea of whom, but
she needed Pietro to believe.
Quickly, she dealt one final card.
A free spirit, crushed under the
weight of forced convention. A
rebellious, ebullient nonconformist who loves life and living, but whose spark
is ruthlessly smothered.
For a long moment, Pietro gazed between his sister and the card she had
cast down between them. He wanted
to believe the card was talking about him, that the poor decision would be Lance
remaining with Mystique’s misbegotten son.
But a little voice in Pietro’s mind told him that it was Kurt who would
be left out in the cold eventually, abandoned to his feelings of worthlessness
and hideousness. Much as he hated
the elf just now, Pietro couldn’t bring himself to wish such a fate on the
boy. Not even his father was so
callous and hateful as to want someone resigned to an existence without love or
companionship.
What should I do? His voice was a tiny whisper in her
mind.
That, I can’t tell you. You have to decide for yourself,
Brother. I will tell you one thing,
though: I wouldn’t try anything
just now. Until Lance comes to you,
it wouldn’t be a good idea to try and talk with him. Once we get the others back, he might
settle down enough for you two to talk.
If you say so, Sister. Abruptly, Pietro slipped around the silk
cloth and tucked himself into her arms, tucking his head beneath her chin. I do
love you, Sister. I never stopped
loving you.
And I love you, my Brother, Wanda assured him softly. Curled up with him like this, Wanda
could almost say she was at peace… almost.
I love you, too.
It was past dinner by the time Kurt returned. Also distressed by the fight, especially
since he considered himself to be the cause, the German boy had teleported out
to the Bay for some time alone.
Hungry and depressed, Kurt simply teleported himself into the kitchen,
hoping that he could find something to quell the gnaw in his stomach, even
though nothing seemed instantly appetizing thanks to the hole in his
heart.
The door opened, and Kurt let himself swing out of the freezer long
enough to see Pietro walking through.
For a moment, Kurt and Pietro just stared at one another, both acutely
aware of their rivalry… and that the blue elf hanging from the lamp had a
container of chocolate ice cream in his hands that would be a chocolate puddle
if one of them didn’t move in short order.
Finally, Pietro forced himself to move. Walking to the cupboard, he removed two
bowls. “Got any toppings for that
stuff?”
“Ja,” Kurt replied, still a bit hesitant as he arched back and set the
ice cream on the counter. “Whipped
cream und strawberries und syrup… und I’m pretty sure we have
walnuts.”
Pietro shook his head. “That
prof of yours really does spoil you guys, ya know?”
“We’re lucky,” Kurt replied from within the refrigerator as he rummaged
for the Cool-Whip.
“Yeah. Your
mom-”
The Cool-Whip hit Pietro in the chest as Kurt slammed the refrigerator
door and flipped down. Those pale
eyes snapped with rage, his tail swishing furiously as he rounded on
Pietro. “Mystique is not my mother! Anyone who could do this to their child isn’t fit to have
any. My mother lives on a farm
outside Munich.”
Pietro was startled by the venom in Kurt’s tone. It reminded him of Wanda’s rage towards
their father. Setting the Cool-Whip
on the table, Pietro turned back for the spoons. “She still gave birth to you. She’s gotta love you a little. How could she not love her own
child?”
“I do not know, and I do not want to,” Kurt replied. “Why you want to find out the same about
Magneto, I’ll never understand.”
“My father does love me,” Pietro countered.
“But not your sister?”
“He’s fighting a war. He
knows what mankind is capable of doing to those who can’t or won’t fight back,
especially children.”
For a moment, Kurt measured Pietro.
His programmed, almost scripted responses when it came to his father were
telling. No wonder Wanda hates Magneto so very much. “I find it hard to admire a man who
loves his children so much that he puts the uncooperative one in a mental ward
and leaves the cooperative one to live in squalor while he goes off and tries to
start a revolution by attacking those he’s supposedly
championing.”
The point hit home.
Hard. Pietro dashed over to
the cupboards again, searching for potential toppings. “The ice cream’s
melting.”
Kurt sighed. “Ja; let’s
eat. Parents aren’t worth ignoring
chocolate ice cream, good or bad.”
Unable to help himself, Pietro laughed.
The kitchen quickly resembled a Dairy Queen as Pietro and Kurt set about
indulging their wounded spirits.
Kurt couldn’t help noticing how femme Pietro really was; it was easy to
understand why Lance would eventually return to the snowy-haired gypsy’s
bed. Why wouldn’t he?
I know he loves Pietro, and how could Pietro not love him? He’s so…
“Thinking about Lance?” Pietro guessed softly.
“What?” Kurt stumbled,
flushed softly, and stared at Pietro.
“Why would you think that?”
“Because I can’t think of any other subject that could make someone stare
at a spoonful of chocolate ice cream like they don’t see it.” He smirked knowingly as Kurt blushed and
swiftly ate it. He could just
imagine the things Lance had done to Kurt; the brunette was incredibly talented
in the bedroom… and on the kitchen table…
and the couch… God, I miss him.
Kurt watched Pietro’s smirk fade and felt a rush of guilt. He knew perfectly well how Lance felt
about Pietro, and it was obvious that Pietro felt the same. And Pietro was so femme… so dainty… Kurt
felt like a stuffed animal being compared to a porcelain doll. How could Lance not choose Pietro over
him?
“Pietro…”
“Don’t, Kurt,” Pietro interrupted.
“It’s… it’s not your fault, and it’s not Lance’s. It’s been coming for a while now; I just
figured it would be Kitty. Lance
was really infatuated with her for a while there. He and I’ve been great physically, and I
really do love him, but… he’s so… intense.
It spooked me a little.”
“Tell me about it,” Kurt agreed.
Lance had been absolutely implacable, not that Kurt had wanted him to
stop…
Pietro chuckled softly.
“Sounds like he’s in one of his insatiable moods. They’re fun, especially since he loves
to cuddle when he finally gets tired.”
For a moment, Pietro hesitated, almost unable to say when he’d just
decided he needed to say. “Listen,
Kurt… I… it’s gonna work out, okay?
Wanda says everything’s gonna be fine, and I believe her. Just… just take care of him right now
for me? He, um… he really needs
somebody to love him right now.”
Kurt was floored. Pietro
couldn’t mean what he’d said. It
would kill the boy to see he and Lance together. But he was obviously sincere. The pain of his own words shone almost
as bright as the love and understanding and compassion. Kurt couldn’t say anything; words seemed
vulgar. He simply nodded, looking
away as Pietro attacked his ice cream, then dashed around to make another
bowl. He really is beautiful, Kurt mused silently. And
not nearly as spoiled and selfish as one would think from how he acts. It would be so easy to love them
both… When Pietro sat back down, Kurt watched
him for a moment. The boy was
faster than the eye could follow; it was the only way he could have escaped
Trask’s underground bunker. And if
he knew how to get out… “Did you
help Storm map out Trask’s bunker yet?”
“Yeah. She and that Forge
guy had me describe it to them in the lab.
I got a pretty good look at the place while I was trying to find the
exits.”
“So you could get back in pretty easily? You know your way
around?”
“Definitely.” Pietro
suddenly realized that Kurt had a plan.
“What are you thinking?”
“If you can get me inside two miles from their cells, I can get them
out.” Kurt’s smile was
confident.
“Even Rogue?”
“Even if she and I touched skin to skin, she could use my powers to
teleport us out.”
Pietro smirked deviously.
“Well then… that sounds like a plan.”
Kurt grinned back, pointing at Pietro with the spoon curled into his
tail. “Ice cream is brain food;
didn’t you know?”
A/N: Coming soon… Kurt and Pietro team
up. Are you scared yet?
;-P