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
There he lay. His rival. His replacement. And yet not. Pietro couldn’t help feeling a surge of
tenderness as he gazed upon the fluffy blue creature nested comfortably on the
bed. It was easy to see what had so
enthralled Lance; more so because Lance probably hadn’t even been expecting such
cuddly qualities to affect him as they so obviously had. But Pietro appraised the elf with a
connoisseur’s eye, knowing already the kind of pleasure that Lance had found in
his arms. The kind that he used
to find in mine… and yet not. I
never understood what Lance wanted when he got that far-off look in his
eyes. He’d lie awake for hours,
dreaming about what our future would be like, and I never understood why… but I
think Kurt does. He’s been there;
he knows what Lance wants… and what I need. I know that now, too. Why couldn’t I see it before? Carefully, he lifted one of the edges of
the nest and slipped inside, nestling against the dozing elf. That tail wrapped around him as Kurt
woke to the presence of a non-Lance male.
“Hey, gorgeous. Got room for
one more in here?”
“Pietro?” Kurt blinked in confusion, suddenly
aware of the fact that he was only wearing boxers. In fact, so was Pietro. “What are you doing
here?”
“I wanted to make sure you were
okay.” Reaching up, Pietro stroked
a hand through that dark blue hair.
“You did get zapped pretty well.”
“Ich am in leben sein,” Kurt
muttered, his tone slightly more annoyed now. “It’s not like I got hit by a car or
something. If Lance finds you in
here…”
“He’s in for an irresistible eyeful,”
Pietro finished, smirking deviously.
“You think he hasn’t had a dream or two about seeing us like
this?”
Those pale eyes widened, and then
Kurt blushed. “I… don’t
know…”
Sliding his arms around Kurt’s
slender frame, Pietro’s smirk faded into a gentler smile. “I do. I know what Lance likes. You know what he needs. It stands to reason that we ought to
team up, don’t you think?”
Kurt’s eyes got a little wider. “Are you saying what I think you’re
saying?”
Tucking Kurt a little closer, Pietro
stroked that soft fur. Oh, yeah…
I can definitely see why Lance fell in love with him. He’s so soft… so innocent… “I’m saying… that I told you things were
gonna work out… and I’ve finally figured out how.” Before Kurt could reply, Pietro leaned
closer and kissed him.
Utter shock gave way to acquiescence. Pietro’s lips were warm and soft and
expert, easily parting Kurt’s lips and teasing Kurt’s tongue to tangle softly
with his. Kurt couldn’t help
responding to him, curling even closer and tangling his fingers in that silky,
snowy hair. It had to be a dream…
Pietro couldn’t really be here… and yet he was, and Kurt couldn’t help thinking
that it did feel right… The door
opened, and Kurt pulled away guiltily.
Pietro smiled in contentment as Kurt averted his eyes, then rolled over
with a satisfied smirk to face Lance.
Sure enough, Lance had seen him, and was now staring in undisguised shock
at the nest. “Well? Are you coming in or
not?”
“Pietro… what…?” Lance’s
hands shook, and he forced himself to set down the tray of oatmeal and herbal
tea before he dropped it.
“You’re still thinking like a gahdje, love. There’s no reason the three of us can’t
be happy together. I’m perfectly
willing to share you with Kurt… I can see why he pleases you so; he tastes like
sun-ripe peaches.” He smirked even
more contentedly at the elf-noise of embarrassment behind him. “And he’s so
innocent…”
“Dammit, Pie!” Lance strode
forward, intent on pulling Pietro from the nest and shaking him until those
perfect teeth rattled. “You betray us, you nearly get people killed, and then
you show up in here proposing… actually thinking I might…” Reaching down, he took hold of Pietro’s
shoulders, ready to drag him from the nest…
He didn’t make it quite that far.
The moment his hand touched that soft, pale skin, knowing that only a few
seconds earlier those smirking lips had been actively kissing Kurt’s, every
rational thought left Lance’s mind.
Instead, he fell to his knees, tears in his eyes as his betrayal and his
uncertainty and his love for both of these beautiful men rose up to choke
him. “Pie…”
“It’s okay, Lance.” Pietro
reached down, urging Lance up into the nest and between he and Kurt. Without needing a cue, Kurt nestled
closer on one side as Pietro snuggled into Lance on the other. “I’m not here to make you choose: I know you can’t. I’m here to prove that you don’t have
to.”
Opening his eyes, Lance gazed down at the snowy-haired gypsy that had so
enraptured him. From the moment
he’d met Pietro, the younger mutant had slowly invaded his heart; in the end,
there had been no denying what Lance felt.
But in Pietro’s wake had come Kurt, and now they both lay curled up
beside him: both with expressions
of love and concern, both so beautiful… “Kurt needs breakfast,” Lance
murmured. Can it really be
true? Does he really mean what he’s
saying? And Kurt? What if this isn’t what he wants? I have to be sure… I can’t lose
them…
“Which you quite thoughtfully provided,” Pietro replied. He slipped out of the nest and fetched
the tray too quickly for liquid to spill, deliberately positioning it across
Lance’s washboard abs. “He’s
absolutely right, Kurt: you should
eat something. After all, you need
to keep your strength up.” The last
was said with a very cocksure PietroSmirk.
Rather predictably, Kurt blushed.
“Ja, I will… especially if I plan on keeping up with
you.”
“Oh, I don’t know: Lance
might like having someone around that moves at a slightly slower
pace.”
The pair leveled very knowing, very mischievous gazes at the
rock-tumbler. The moment the
innuendo registered, Lance let out a soft whimper of defeat and yanked the
pillow out from under his head, hiding under it.
When Rogue walked into Wanda’s room, she found the raven-haired Goth
curled up on the bed, which had been moved as close as possible to the small
balcony overlooking the Bay. The
stereo was playing, either a mix CD or on random, Rogue couldn’t tell. The haunting Goth metal was music to
Rogue’s ears. She’d spent too long
trapped with social butterflies and their boy bands. “Where’d you get your collection?” Rogue
asked softly.
Wanda looked up from her book, smiling just a bit as the rose in Rogue’s
hand caught her eye. She’d noticed
it. “Downloads. Seeking to keep me calm, Mystique gave
me access to her rooms… and everything in them.”
“You know how to use a computer?”
Rogue was obviously surprised.
“But I thought…”
“That I was caged like a beast?”
Wanda shook her head, a slightly pained expression in her hooded blue
eyes. “Not until my powers began to
mature. I was never allowed
outside, even as a small child, but Father wanted me educated as well as
contained. In the event that I
might ever become useful, he did not want an idiot on his
hands.”
Entranced and empathetic, Rogue moved to sit opposite Wanda. “So… they kept you in straight-jackets;
stuff like that?”
“They did.” Wanda’s voice
was tight, controlled; it was easy for Rogue to see how horrible that part of
Wanda’s life had been for her.
“They caged me, bound and trussed me like a fresh kill when I had to be
removed. To an extent, they did
what was necessary to protect themselves.
I was, after all, mad with rage.”
“Because Magneto put you there?”
Wanda nodded. “He took my
freedom and my twin in one crushing blow.
For a gahdje, it would be bad enough, but we are Roma. Imprisonment is, for us, a fate worse
than death. What he did is
unforgivable; inexcusable after experiencing the same in Poland at the hands of
the Nazis.”
“I didn’t know y’all were a gypsy.”
The Southern contraction brought a smile to Wanda’s lips: a rather adorable sign that Rogue was
becoming more comfortable with her.
“Both of our parents were.”
“What happened to your mother?” Rogue asked
tentatively.
“She died not long after Pietro and I were born.”
Biting her lip, Rogue’s expression went from embarrassment from bringing
it up to deep sympathy.
“Sorry.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Wanda forgave. “I never really knew her, but I know she
loved us… much more than Magneto ever did.
It’s enough for me.”
For a moment, Rogue wasn’t sure what to say. Wanda’s presence was comfortable, warm…
for some reason, Rogue felt safe with her; an unusual sentiment, especially
given Wanda’s heritage and violent proclivities. Somehow, it didn’t seem to
matter.
Their lapse in conversation allowed Wanda to assess Rogue’s posture. It seemed that her Rogue was indeed
feeling more relaxed around her.
She smiled. “I’m glad it
pleases you.”
Rogue blinked, then followed Wanda’s gaze to the rose in her hand. She blushed faintly. “It’s real pretty,” Rogue replied, her
drawl returning. “Y’all didn’ hafta
do that, though.”
“It pleased me to,” Wanda told her softly. “I don’t imagine you’ve received
many.”
“Why do y’all say that?”
Wanda smiled; Rogue couldn’t help seeing echoes of Pietro’s smirk on
those crimson lips. “Because there
is not one man here with an ounce of chivalry… with the exception of Kurt, but
his sensibilities are directed elsewhere.
And there is no woman here with the… proper appreciation for such a
perfect damask rose.”
The compliment brought a deeper flush to Rogue’s pale cheeks. “It’s not like I can… I mean, why would
y’all give roses to somebody y’all cain’t touch?”
A warm chuckle rumbled in Wanda’s throat. “Gahdje are such cowards: afraid to tempt the devil in order to
woo an angel.” Sliding closer, she
gave Rogue no time to escape as she leaned in. Rogue shivered at the feel of warm skin
a perilous hair’s breadth from her own.
“I fear very little, my sweet Rogue… and unlike these timid gahdje, I
will not allow your powers to come between us.”
Just the sound of Wanda’s husky voice caressing her ear sent warm twinges
spiraling through Rogue’s body. A
soft gasp left her as Wanda’s hand came to rest on her arm. The heat of her touch seemed to sear
through the filmy material of her blouse; Rogue’s body reacted savagely to the
first real stimulus she’d received, and the Southern belle suddenly found
herself breathing a bit heavier.
Wanda was entranced by her innocence, her body’s eager response to a
simple touch. Her Rogue would be a
wild, passionate lover; Wanda found herself hard pressed to maintain some
self-control… those lips were so tempting:
parted and begging to be kissed…
Rogue remembered herself faster.
In a heartbeat, she slid off the bed and away from Wanda. “We can’t. It would kill
you.”
“I fear death least of all, my Rogue.” Wanda slid off the bed to stand beside
her. Before Rogue could back away,
Wanda lifted Rogue’s gloved hand to her lips for a soft, courtly kiss. “Death can be easily cheated… especially
by a Roma. The choice is
yours.”
For one heated instant, Rogue’s body clamored to step forward: to take whatever fleeting pleasure she
might find in Wanda’s arms. Her
rational mind took control only with great effort, and Rogue turned and ran
out. Wanda watched her go, still
smiling softly. Her sweet Rogue
still clung tightly to the rose.
Her thoughts whirling, Rogue sought refuge away from the majority of the
other students. Professor Xavier
had, over the years, compiled an impressive library, and Rogue needed the
stability of a tome that smelled of old knowledge and talked about obscure
occultism. A nice long research
paper on vampirism or witchcraft… that’d be good. Maybe Mr. McCoy’ll even give me extra
credit for it.
The huge library provided hours of solitude and plenty of hiding
places. Amidst the old books of
lore and legend, Rogue regained her stability. She had resigned herself to her fate, if
not reconciled herself to it, and no one could change that… no matter how
romantic she might be. Still, Rogue
found herself drawn more and more to the references to the powers of the Roma in
the volumes she pored over. A
powerful and ancient people, rumored to be everything from one of the lost
tribes of Israel to refugees of the great fire in Rome to descendants of
Atlantean survivors. Their magicks
were potent; seemingly limitless… some tales even claimed that an adept Romani
witch or warlock could raise the dead…
“Dammit!” Rogue slammed the
book shut, shoving it away. It
would do her no good to delude herself with exaggerated tales of powers Wanda
might or might not possess. Wanda’s
attentions were sweet, but lethal to the beautiful Goth if allowed to become too
amorous.
“You all right, darlin’?”
Sam’s head came poking around the shelves; he’d obviously heard her angry
epithet.
“Just peachy,” Rogue replied, crossing her arms and slumping back in her
chair. “Didn’ mean to startle
y’all, Sam.”
“Y’all’s upset ‘bout somethin’.”
Sam walked over and sat in one of the other chairs at the study
table. “Tell ol’ Sam what’s
wrong.”
“Ain’t nothin’ to be done ‘bout it, Sam.” Rogue’s posture slipped a little more as
she let her drawl come out in full force.
Most of the time, she controlled the telltale sign of her background, but
when her emotions ran high, or when she talked to Sam for more than thirty
seconds, it returned with a vengeance.
“S’nothin’ anybody can do.”
“Don’ be silly, darlin’.
After all, it’s a clear day out.
Y’all an’ I could take that hill if’n we wanted all by
ourselves.”
Rogue chuckled softly at the earnest expression on his face. “I b’lieve we could, Sam, but this is a
dang mountain.”
“Mountains are jus’ big ol’ hills, darlin’. Jus’ takes a bit longer to take ‘em,
s’all.” He patted her gloved
hand. “Y’all’re talkin’ ‘bout
y’all’s powers, ain’tchya?”
“Yup. I jus’… I don’ know
if’n I can explain it right, Sam… or if’n y’all
understand.”
“I might not understand completely, darlin’, but I listen pretty
well.”
Rogue smiled; he was being awfully sweet. “Well… I never counted on this
happenin’, really. Growin’ up down
South, it don’ really get discussed; but… well…
Wanda-likes-me.”
Sam blinked, catching her words even with the drawl and the
PietroSpeed. “Are y’all
sure?”
Sighing heavily, Rogue nodded.
“She left a rose on my doormat this mornin’; said she wasn’ afraid of my
powers. I jus’ don’ know what to
make of it, Sam. That place she was
in musta made her stark ravin’ crazy to think she could do anythin’ ‘bout my
powers when nobody else can.”
“I wouldn’ go quite that far, darlin’,” Sam replied softly. “After managin’ to rebuild this
place-”
“What?” Rogue sat up at
that. “Whatchy’all mean, ‘rebuild
this place’?”
“Didn’ anybody tell y’all?”
Sam shook his head. “I guess
not, what with y’all getting’ hurt an’ all. But Confederate ladies ‘re a lot tougher
than anybody gives ‘em credit for; ‘specially compared to Yankee women. I don’ see no harm in tellin’ y’all
now.” Sam leaned forward across the
table towards her, lowering his voice a bit. “Mystique was masqueradin’ as Professor
X, an’ she set the computers to Defcon 4 before y’all went off to the supply
yard. We couldn’ get it shut down;
Scott managed to get Cerebro opened up, an’ we all hid in there when the place
blew.”
“Geez,” Rogue muttered. “An’
Wanda rebuilt it?”
“Yeah. Nobody’s been able to
quite figure out how she got everythin’ so perfect. One night, she jus’… folded space or
somethin’, and it was like the explosion never happened. We found her passed out in y’all’s
room. Doin’ it nearly took the life
outve her.”
For a moment, Rogue could say nothing. The very idea of it was numbing to the
mind. Wanda, nearly killing herself
for them? It didn’t make any sense,
especially so soon after she’d buried the lot of them in the Bayville
Galleria. “Did she even say
why?”
“Not once. I’m pretty sure
it’s ‘cause she wanted to get Pietro back; they patched up they’s differences
pretty quick after y’all tol’ him to come for help.” Sam paused for a moment, then took a
deep breath. “She’s powerful,
Rogue. Ev’rybody ‘round here knows
it. That woman she had come to heal
y’all? Todd an’ them said she was
trainin’ Wanda to use magic as well as her mutant powers. Nobody knows how much she can actually
do; if there’s anythin’ at all she cain’t do. If there’s anybody that can get ‘round
y’all’s powers, I’d say it’s her.”
“Sam, y’all must be the very last person I’d think would tell me that I
should try and start datin’ a girl.”
Rogue managed a half-smile, inwardly shaken by Sam’s quiet declaration of
the extent of Wanda’s powers.
“Well, it’s not like y’all seem that opposed to it, darlin’,” Sam
countered. “If I was in y’all’s
situation, I surely wouldn’ want somebody tellin’ me to ignore a chance to be
happy just ‘cause it came from a guy.”
Startled for a moment, Rogue blinked as she realized that she truly
hadn’t objected to the idea that Wanda was a woman; the danger of the attraction
seemed to have negated the potential strangeness of it. Yet now that Rogue considered the idea
on its face, she had to admit that she wasn’t really opposed to the idea that
she might enter into a relationship with a woman. Shaking her head suddenly, she buried
her face in her hands. “I just… I
cain’t think about it now,” she finally murmured. “It’s too much to deal
with.”
Sam offered her a sympathetic smile as he patted her hand. “Don’tchy’all worry ‘bout a thing,
darlin’. It’ll all come out right
in the end.”
Lifting her head from her hands, Rogue offered a wan smile in reply. “Thanks, Sam. I think I’m gonna hang ‘round here for a
while.”
“Okay, darlin’. I gotta get
to a Danger Room session, anyway.
See y’all at dinner.”
Offering another friendly smile, Sam rose from his chair and
left.
The smile melted off Rogue’s face as the door clicked shut behind
him. Yeah, right. Ev’rythin’s gonna be just fine. Grasping the old book again, Rogue
opened it to the page where she’d left off. Right now, she truly didn’t want to
think about it.
“You have to admit, Superintendent,” Hank said politely as he sat down in
Superintendent Michaels’ office, “that it is hardly fair to punish all of these
students for events beyond their control.”
“You’re referring, of course, to their… abilities,” Michaels
replied.
“Also to the machinations of other mutants with agendas of their
own.” Hank didn’t like the quiet
expression on the superintendent’s face.
“After all, the goal of the Institute is to teach these children how to
control their abilities so that they can function in society without disrupting
the lives of their fellow men.”
“And to teach them how to use those abilities if attacked.” Michaels set his elbows on the desk,
lacing his fingers together.
“That’s taking things out of context, Superintendent. They’re not being trained to use their
powers like offensive weapons. It’s
rather like being trained in martial arts:
they have abilities that require a great deal of discipline to use, but
with that discipline comes the understanding that those abilities should not be
used unless absolutely necessary.”
Hank tried not to look as nervous as he was beginning to feel. This had to be nipped in the bud. “The fact remains, however, that federal
law prohibits the denial of any minor to a public education, regardless of race,
religion, creed. Even if you have
reasons to be concerned about those students who were merely defending
themselves against a highly unique threat, discouraging those who were not
involved is a violation of their civil rights.”
For a moment, Michaels seemed to consider the matter. “And why couldn’t Professor Xavier meet
me himself?”
“Unfortunately, he’s out of town at the moment,” Hank lied, hoping that
he wasn’t obvious about it. “Trying
to prevent someone who is dangerous from harming either the students or anyone
else.”
After what seemed like an eternity, Michaels nodded. “You do have a point, Mr. McCoy… one you
obviously believe in strongly since you’ve left us to work at the
Institute. I’m not entirely sure
that federal law covers mutants, but the ensuing court case isn’t one I’d like
to see played out. However, I want
you to be prepared for the reality that several of those children were easily
recognized. If they’re going to
attend school, then all of them have to be prepared for some
backlash.”
“What about Principal Kelly?” Hank asked carefully.
“Naturally, he’s not going to approve. However, I’m not quite willing to
experiment in a very gray legal area… so long as these children really are
learning the kind of discipline you claim they are.”
“I appreciate your good faith, Superintendent.” With a grateful smile, Hank stood
up.
Michaels stood up as well, reaching out to shake hands. “Just see to it that it isn’t misplaced,
Mr. McCoy.”
Taking his hand, Hank was glad he’d worn gloves. “I will, sir.”
It seemed that meals were becoming more and more informal around the
mansion since the incident.
Training schedules were starting to become as rigorous as before,
especially since Wolverine had returned, but everyone’s nerves were still a bit
taut. The announcement that their
attendance at Bayville High had been ‘discouraged’ until further notice hadn’t
helped, either. Without eight hours
of school and two or three hours of homework to distract them from the specter
of Sentinels and a missing professor and public exposure as mutants, people’s
appetites seemed to shift as unpredictably as the winds. The young mutants just drifted into the
kitchen when they felt hungry; all except Fred, whose voracious appetite seemed
to have deserted him of late. It
was sheer luck, though he wasn’t sure whether it was good or bad, that brought
Lance back down to the kitchen to make dinner for his beloveds at the same time
Kitty was foraging for something to stave off her own hunger. Jesus… why me? “Anything good in there?” Lance asked
mildly.
Kitty straightened at the sound of his voice, visibly stiffening. It was the first time they’d really been
alone together since the whole mess began.
“I think there’s some hot dogs in here somewhere.”
Lance made a face, then walked over to the cupboards and started removing
the ingredients for spaghetti. “No
thanks. I doubt I could get either
Pietro or Kurt to down one of those.”
“So you’ve decided to have your cake and eat it too,
huh?”
The icy edge to her tone caused Lance to turn. Kitty was standing there with her arms
folded across her chest: a classic
unhappy female posture. “They came
to the decision to share me, actually.
I got informed about their plan at breakfast this morning and really
didn’t get given much choice in the matter.” Kitty sniffed derisively and Lance
quirked an eyebrow. “Are you upset
because you don’t believe me, or because you do?”
“I thought you and I were moving towards a relationship, Lance. You made me think that you honestly were
starting to care.”
“And that means what, Kitty?
That I owe you something? It
wasn’t going to work out. That much
became painfully obvious when I tried living here.”
“So, all of a sudden, I’m not good enough for you, but Kurt is? Oh, that’s great, Lance. Really: thanks a lot.” Uncrossing her arms, her hands moved to
her hips as she took a step closer to him.
“How long until you realize that Kurt’s too high-maintenance, too? What happens
then?”
“You don’t understand, Kitty,” Lance replied, filling a pot with hot
water and setting it on the stove.
“You’re used to being Daddy’s little girl: having everything your way, getting any
guy you want by just batting your eyes.
You’ve even got Wolverine wrapped around your little finger. That’s a great situation for you, and
I’m sure that someday you’ll meet somebody who’ll take care of you and give you
whatever you want anytime you do that big-eyes-pouty-lip routine. I need more than that, and I realized
while I was living here that you can’t give it… at least not right
now.”
“And just what is it that I supposedly can’t give, Lance?” Kitty retorted
acidly. “A good blow
job?”
“That’s beneath you, Kitty, and you know that’s not what I mean.” Lance remained with his back to the
hissing kitten, adding a few spices to the sauce while the water worked towards
a boil.
“Then spell it out for me.”
“I’ve never had what you have, Kitty. I’ve never had parents that gave a damn,
real or foster. I’ve never had
anyone take care of me when I was sick, or make my favorites because I did well
in school. Before Pietro, everybody
I’ve ever slept with has been for physical comfort, but it’s been hollow. Even Tabby didn’t offer any real
emotional ties. Hell, Pietro didn’t
even say it back when I told him I loved him the first time. Kurt’s the first person I’ve ever said
it to who said it back.” Adding the
pasta to the finally boiling water, Lance turned his head briefly to glance at
her. “I need someone to give a damn
about whether I live or die, Kitty.
I need more than just some sophomoric relationship based on teenage
hormones. You’re looking for a
boyfriend based on the ‘ohmigod, he’s so-o-o cute’ reaction. I need someone to
stay.”
For a moment, Kitty didn’t know what to say. Sure, Lance’s bad-boy, brooding image
had been really attractive, but she hadn’t really believed it was much more than
a posture of rebellion. To her, it
was something he could grow out of eventually; she hadn’t realized just how
deeply the reasons for that behavior ran.
“But both Kurt and Pietro?” she finally asked. “Isn’t that kinda…
weird?”
“Not really. I love both of
them. They both love me. They’ll both stay. I don’t see anything weird about
that.” Turning back to the stove,
he stirred both pots. “In fact, it
feels really nice: being loved by
two people. That’s two more than
have ever loved me in my whole life.”
A surge of compassion welled up inside Kitty. Walking over, she gave Lance a hug from
behind. “So… are you gonna stay
here?”
“I don’t know what we’re gonna do, Kitty. We haven’t really talked about
that. Pietro’s Rom, so for all I
know, he might want to build a caravan and park it on the south lawn
someplace. He and Wanda might want
to go wandering for a couple years after all this is over. Who knows? Right now, we’ve got lots of time ahead
of us.” Setting down the spoon, he
turned and hugged her gently. “It’s
okay. It’s not your fault, you
know. You’re sweet and warm and
caring; I just need more than you have to give. If things had been different, I’d be
really lucky to end up with someone like you.”
Kitty smiled softly, then leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Thanks. Just don’t ever hurt Kurt, you hear
me? I don’t wanna have to come kick
your ass.”
Lance chuckled, mussing her hair.
“Put up the claws, Shadowcat.
I’m not gonna hurt the elf; I promise.”
Releasing him, Kitty went back to searching the fridge for something to
eat as Lance returned to watching the pasta. Neither of them noticed the dark-skinned
skateboarder hovering just outside the doorway, listening with a heavy heart to
their conversation. Deciding that
he really wasn’t hungry, after all, Evan turned away from the kitchen and walked
back upstairs.