A/N: *sigh* You wanna know how long this chapter took me to write? Well, I started it right before I posted Chapter 3. In fact, I was about halfway done with it when I posted Chap3. Somehow, SOMEHOW, this thing managed to take me a little over a month to finish and I don’t know why! It’s not long. It’s not brilliant. It’s just... here. Oh well! By the way, it may seem like there’s no plot yet (as in, all the really bad crap mentioned in Chapter 1), but that’s because the plot-- well, it was supposed to be introduced in Chapter 5 (this is gonna be longer than “Slushies” if you haven’t guessed by now), but here’s what happened: At first, I wasn’t too sure about pairing Bobby and Johnny together. That is, until I got the reviews for Chapter 3 and spoke more with a friend who seems to love the idea. :D So, in order for them to get together, I have to settle all of the Wanda crap and get the two boys bonded first, and that’s probably gonna take most of Chapter 5 to do. BUT THERE IS A PLOT TO THIS STORY! TRUST ME! It’s just taking me forever to get to, that’s all >.<

So, without further ado, here’s yet another filler chapter (I promise Chap5 will have the beginnings of the freakin’ plot >.<). Un-betaread because... well, come on, I’ve been working on this thing for a month! I don’t want to have to look at it any more!

Whoever said that cleanliness was next to godliness was right. Lance felt a surge of contentment rush through him as he stepped out of the shower, totally relaxed and wonderfully clean for the first time in months. It wasn’t that he didn’t bathe while away-- he did; daily (well, almost daily; as much as he could). However, using real shampoo and real soap in one’s own home made him feel infinitely cleaner than he did in those dingy little motel showers with the plastic soap and single-serving generic shampoo that he sometimes had to fight with the others for. Plus, with everybody but Todd and Freddy gone, he was finally able to take as long as he wanted to without having an irate St. John (or one of the other Brotherhood members they picked up who actually cared about hygiene) yell at him for hogging the hot water.

With his shower and rest out of the way, there was one more thing Lance needed to achieve a state of perfect bliss: sex-- with Pietro, preferably, but he wasn’t exactly feeling picky at the moment, considering that he had just been through five terrible months of celibacy. The worst thing about his sex-free time was that he was almost constantly hit on while away and between missions, which resulted in major sexual tension and lingering disappointment every time he told a girl that he “wasn’t interested”, was “seeing somebody”, and-- his personal favorite-- “I’m here, I’m queer, and I’m in love with a hyperactive high school student whose heart beats about as fast as-- if not faster than-- a hummingbird’s!” That last one usually sent the girls running.

But now he was back. And he was clean. And his hair smelled like-- raspberries? He assumed that it was Wanda’s shampoo he had just used, but then... well, Pietro always did like the scent of fruit.

Oh well. Fruit’s nice. Fruit’s very nice, Lance told himself as he wrapped the towel around his waist and walked through the bathroom to his adjoined bedroom; he opened his door and peered down the hall. There was some clatter going on downstairs, which led to the assumption that the guys had just gotten back from grocery shopping. Freddy’s probably--

“Freddy! That was tonight’s dinner! Now what are we supposed to eat, ya big lummox?!”

“I can make something! I’m sure you boys would enjoy a nice home-cooked meal for a change!”

“Yeah, and you’d probably throw some arsenic in it.”

“Hey, don’t talk to Amy like that!”

“She’s e-- oh, nevermind! Oh, and don’t touch any of the ice cream or Pietro’ll kill you or somethin’.”

“But, what about the--”

“And the whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles, cherries, caramel-- Wow! How many things did that kid get?”

Yep. Freddy had definitely found his way to the new food, and it sounded like John was about to have a coronary.

I wonder where Pietro is... Not to mention Wanda and Todd-- usually one of them were around to supervise the absolute chaos that was bringing the groceries in.

“Yo, lookit all the ice cream! Wow, we finally got some decent food!”

Ah, there was Todd.

“The ice cream’s off limits to all of you, so leave it alone! You can have it after I’m done.”

And there was Pietro. Ahh, Pietro... Pietro, Pietro, Pietro! he thought rather sappily (not to mention giddily). Lance was about to run downstairs before he realized that it probably wasn’t the best idea, considering his current lack of clothing.

“Hey, man, why do you have that on?”

“And what’s with the shoes?”

“Nothing, nothing! Just-- uh-- is Lance up?”

“Yeah, he’s been in the shower for like an hour, yo. He should be out now.”

Eep. Despite the fact that Pietro had seen him in his birthday suit many times before, Lance felt that he should probably dress up at least a little bit for his boyfriend, rather than just jump straight to the sex. He may not’ve been the most romantic guy in the world, but sometimes a situation called for a little bit of precise seduction rather than raunchy fun. So, without further thought, he shut his door, threw on a pair of boxer shorts, and attempted to very quickly dry his hair with the towel just as some rapid knocking interrupted his “dressing up”.

“Ah-- uh-- yeah?” he called.

“Lance? Can I see you for a moment?” Pietro asked pleasantly from the other side of the door. The sheer sweetness in his voice would’ve been cause for suspicion, had Lance been in a less horny mindset at the moment.

He took a quick glance at himself in the mirror and figured he was decent and dressed up enough for his boyfriend’s eyes. Shrugging to himself, he opened the door and... “Aah!”

He suddenly found himself in bed, on his back, and struggling to sit up and get a better look at Pietro. Well, something was definitely different about the other boy. It could be that he was clad in a bathrobe that was concealing all but his legs, which were-- Pietro’s wearing fishnets. Oh, my God, he’s wearing fishnets.

And that wasn’t all. Besides the fishnets and the black stilettos (which made Lance wonder just how the boy crammed his feet into the extremely uncomfortable looking shoes), he had this look on his face that both aroused and frightened Lance.

After many Oh, God!s and Fishnets?!s, Lance came to the conclusion that his boyfriend-- as cute as he was-- was insane and needed help.

“Hey, lover,” Pietro purred, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“You’re-- you-- crazy! Nuts!”

“Huh?” Pietro blinked a few times and briefly wondered if Lance had some odd form of Tourette’s Syndrome, then dropped the robe, revealing a rather kinky ensemble made of white satin, or silk, or something (Lance wasn’t too sure because he wasn’t really a scholar when it came to lingerie). “Like what you see?”

Man, he’s definitely crazy or on drugs-- well, it is kinda cute... and the fishnets make his legs look even more sexy... but what the hell happened to plain ol’ jeans wearing Pietro?! I like plain ol’ jeans wearing Pietro! Okay, creepy cross-dressed Pietro’s not so bad, but... well, the ‘nets can go. And the stilettos, and the lingerie. Yesss... that’d be nice.

“Hellooo? Aw, man, don’t tell me I did this for nothing!”

“No, no, I like what I see. I like, I like!” Lance said quickly before Pietro could get huffy. “It’s just.. different...”

“Duh! It’s supposed to be different so you don’t cheat on me!” Pietro snapped, putting his hands on his hips, which made for a rather odd, prissy looking pose.

“Cheat on-- where’d you get that idea?” the now clueless-- though somewhat turned on-- Lance asked.

“Oh, nevermind. Well, do you want this or not?” the oddly dressed boy demanded impatiently.

Lance chuckled and got up from the bed. “Of course I want you, stupid.” Okay, screw precise seduction. I think this is enough. Want Pietro NOW!

Pietro’s previously annoyed expression melted into a smile, which then changed into a suggestive “Come and get it” smirk. He stumbled towards Lance awkwardly, not yet used to the heels, and then tripped and fell ungracefully into his boyfriend’s arms. “Gah! Now help me out of these damn things before I fall and break my leg.”

“They’ve been up there a while...” Todd noted, staring up at the ceiling as if half expecting it to grace him with the knowledge of what the two boys were doing upstairs. Nevertheless, the ceiling remained stoically silent.

John poked sullenly at his plate, wondering if (and when) the food was going to suddenly explode or come to life and eat him. When his suspicions were settled, he gave Todd a jaded glance and said flatly, “What do you think they’re doing? ‘Course it’s gonna take ‘em a while.”

“What’s the matter, Johnny? You’re not touching your dinner, and you’re already thin as a rail. Don’t you like chicken parmigiana?” Amy asked in an appallingly concerned voice that resulted in John tightening his grip on his fork and stabbing it into the chicken before him-- ever so subtlely-- pretending that the deceased and seasoned bird was Amy.

“No, I don’t like chicken-whatever-this-is. I’m... uh... a vegetarian! Meat is bad! You should all be ashamed of yourselves!” A rather noisy thump emitted from upstairs. “Oh, knock it off, you two!” he shouted up at the ceiling.

“Oh, Laaaaaance!” Pietro retorted in a loud, lusty moan, which was followed by giddy snickering.

“It’s disturbing to hear my brother say that, even if he is only joking,” Wanda muttered after Pietro’s obnoxious giggling settled. She poked at her own food for a bit, then resumed eating as an uncomfortable silence settled in the kitchen. “Um... so...” she started awkwardly in an attempt to relieve the tension in the room. “How have you been, Freddy?”

“Good,” the large mutant grunted out between mouthfuls of food.

“Uh huh... And you, Todd? How was your day?”

“Eh, so-so,” the boy shrugged, obviously not in the mood to elaborate on the exciting events of his life.

“I see... Oh, come on, people, don’t any of you lead interesting lives?!” Wanda exclaimed with exasperation before reddening as she realized how snooty that may have sounded. “Umm... Johnny, what about you? Pietro mentioned something about X-Men and the grocery store--”

“It was nothin’,” he cut in nervously, laughing a bit in an effort to appear calm and relaxed. “Nothin’ at all. We just had a little run-in in the cereal aisle and that lousy wanker Daniels threatened to--” He was interrupted suddenly by Wanda choking on her dinner and coughing abruptly to clear her throat of the remnants of the near-fatal chicken. “You okay, sweet? I knew there was something up with that chicken!”

“Yeah, fine, never better,” she croaked, smiling warily before taking a large sip from her drink. He doesn’t know, does he? He couldn’t! ...unless Pietro or Evan mentioned something to him. Well, I know Pietro hasn’t said anything... I’d better tell Evan to keep his mouth shut--

“Wanda? You sure you’re okay? You seem kind of spaced out right now...”

“No more than you usually are, Allerdyce,” she retorted with a small smile. “Actually, you seem to be in a pretty lousy mood. Something’s wrong.”

“I just have a lot on my mind ‘s all,” he mumbled, shrugging. “And you’re changing the subject, but hey, if there’s something you don’t want to tell me; fine. I’m okay with it.”

“There’s nothing! I mean, there’s... soooo, Amy, where’d you learn to cook? This chicken is absolutely fabulous!” Wanda exclaimed cheerfully, abruptly changing the subject once more. She ignored the contemptuous scoff from her boyfriend and continued speaking. “No wonder you and Freddy are so happy together. You like to cook, he likes to eat, it’s like one happy circle of... food!” Well, how’s that for ditzy? I guess I’ve been hanging around my new “friends” too much.

“If that was the way things worked, then he’d be just as happy with Aunt Jemima,” John grinned, lightening up at the chance to mock both Fred and his tiny, hellspawn girlfriend.

“Or Uncle Ben,” Todd added helpfully.

“Or Betty Crocker,” John supplied, then stopped grinning as he received a death glare from Wanda and a baffled look from Freddy. He caught the angry scowl from his girlfriend and figured the next, safest course of action was to simply keep his mouth shut and stare innocently down at his plate.

“Uncle Ben? But I like girls,” Fred said slowly.

Amy shook her head and patted the Blob’s arm almost comfortingly. “Don’t dwell on it, Freddy. They don’t know what they’re talking about,” she said, tossing a haughty glance at Todd and John.

Todd shrugged off the look and then stared up at the ceiling again, then mused, “They’re takin’ longer than usual, yo.”

“Yeah. Normally Lance would be comin’ down the stairs by now saying ‘That was the best four and a half seconds of my life!’,” John added with a snicker, this time ignoring the daggers that Wanda glared at him.

Suddenly, a gust of wind and a blur that could only be Pietro rushed through the kitchen, snatched some things from the freezer, and zipped back out of the room.

“He’s got the ice cream!” Freddy griped as realization dawned on him.

“The horror!”

“Shaddup, Aussie!”

“Yo, I think he streaked us!”

Lance was in Heaven. Heaven happened to be a nearly empty, long uninhabited bedroom with his clothes strewn about the floor waiting to be put away after months of being trapped in travel bags. What was in the room didn’t matter to Lance, though, since Heaven also provided very nice beds complete with a adorable, hyperactive mutant who had just finished “rocking his world” and was now treating him to a nice, soothing back rub. And-- big plusses here-- they had ice cream! Wonderful, tasty ice cream and ice cream accessories...

So, here was Lance on the very nice bed, lying on his stomach, and staring at a container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream as Pietro, clad only in his robe (which was considerably more clothing than Lance had on), gave him the massage of a lifetime. There’s no way Heaven can feel this goood...

A pleasant groan escaped his lips as slender, skilled fingers massaged the muscles around his shoulders. “Mmm... ahhh... ow!”

“Wow, you’re really tense here,” Pietro noted with an amused grin as he continued. “Stress?”

Lance shrugged as much as he could, and responded with: “Tension. From not having you around for months.”

“Sap.”

“Does my sappiness get me anything?”

“Well,” Pietro murmured, trying to sound thoughtful. “You already have me, I don’t know what more you would want.”

“How about a threesome-- ow! You did that on purpose!”

“Damn right I did! Jerk,” he snapped, then climbed off of Lance to sit in his own sullen party of one at the foot of the bed.

“Jerk? What’d I say?” Lance asked, sitting up. A characteristic expression of confusion-- one all to familiar, since Pietro had a tendency to baffle Lance without fail every time they got into these one-sided arguments-- crossed Lance’s face as he thought about what imaginary offense he could’ve committed this time.

“Threesome,” Pietro grumbled in reply. “How could you suggest such a thing?!”

“What’s wrong with suggesting? I was just kidding!”

“In suggesting a threesome, you’re implying that you want to have sex with another person! That means I’m getting boring and can’t hold your interest anymore, notEvenIfIGetYouIceCreamAndDressUpRealNiceAndStuff!”

Lance took a second to decipher Pietro-speak, and only found himself even more confused. “Why do you think you’re getting boring?”

“Because Wanda-- I mean... because we’ve been going out for almost two years now, and you’ve been away most of the time, sooo... IThoughtYouMight’veGottenTiredOfMe and foundSomeUnbearablyOvercompensated X-Man toSleepWith.”

“Wait, what does this have to do with your sister and the X-Men?” Lance questioned, inching closer to Pietro.

“Nothing! I’m just being stupid, I guess.” Pietro chuckled softly, looking down at a tub of ice-cream seemingly newfound interest. “Self-consciousness and all that crap.”

“Self-conscious? You? Yeah, right. Pietro, I haven’t slept with anybody while I was away. Well, I had to share a bed with Johnny once, but that was because we ran out of space and it was a choice between him and Freddy, but we didn’t do anything, and he stole the sheets and eventually kicked me onto the floor-- which he claimed was an accident, but I doubt it--, so that doesn’t count,” Lance clarified quickly, trying to fill in every little detail before Pietro’s fast-paced mind could find anything wrong with his explanation of the scenario. He snaked his arm around Pietro’s torso, hoping to catch him off guard, and pulled the boy closer to him. He then chose the next, most logical course of action to pull Pietro out of his weird mood: cuddling.

“Stupid you. Why do you have to be so damn lovable?!” Pietro cursed, melting-- not literally, of course-- at Lance’s touch and forgetting about the slowly liquefying ice cream. “Okay, fine, for imagination’s sake, let’s just say that I do agree to a threesome. Who would the third person be?”

“Hmm...” Lance pondered for a moment, running his fingers through Pietro’s disheveled hair thoughtfully. “Summers.”

“Ew. No way! I don’t even want to think about how that guy would be in bed. Not that he’d be too bad... just overbearing and--”

“You’re thinking about it,” Lance teased, earning a cherry being flung at his face in return. “Wagner.”

“Gross! Fur! That’d be like doing your pet dog or something... except that we don’t have one... I want a puppy!”

“So you can--” Another cherry was promptly thrown at him, and he chuckled despite the fact that the syrup the cherries had been stored in probably just stained his bedsheets. Oh well, it’s not like we didn’t screw them up enough already... “Okay, okay, sorry,” he laughed. “What about Dan-- ow! Okay, nevermind! Todd.”

“You actually think of him that way?! It’s like... incest! I’m very ashamed of you, Lance.”

“Incest? I guess that takes Johnny out of the picture, too. So, um... what’s his name... Gambit?”

There was a brief pause. For a second, Lance feared that the contents of the jar were about to be emptied on him, but-- joy of joys!-- Pietro smiled and nodded energetically.

“Okay. He’s cute. I’d do him.”

“Not cuter than me, I hope.”

“Oh, nothing can beat your cuteness, Lance!” Pietro cooed sarcastically as he scooped a spoonful of ice cream out and held it out for Lance to eat. “Who needs a puppy when I have you around?”

“Exactly,” Lance said around the spoon before taking a quick glance around the room. Other containers of ice cream-- the small kind, luckily; he wasn’t too sure what he’d do if Pietro had run out and bought a ton of those large tubs of ice cream-- littered the ground, along with a canister of whipped cream, another jar of cherries, and small shakers containing sprinkles. And then there were Pietro’s (well, maybe not Pietro’s, but the speed demon had been wearing them) stilettos and fishnets, and, somewhere else along the floor, the remainder of his own outfit was lying abandoned. Hm, I’ve been home about four hours, and already my room’s a pit. “Uh... are we really going to eat all of that? Why’d you get so much?”

“Well, I didn’t remember what flavor you liked best, so I went out and stocked up on the best that Bluebell, Ben, and Jerry had to offer. We can feed the rest to Freddy and the others if it hasn’t turned into soup by then.”

“Freddy won’t care if it’s soup,” Lance murmured, pulling a cherry out of the jar, only to have it skillfully plucked from his fingers by Pietro. “Heeey.”

“You know, while you were doing that weird thing to my neck-- before, the sex, that is. When you were trying weird new things during foreplay-- I was thinking about all of our roles in the family,” Pietro said contemplatively as he munched on Lance’s cherry.

The randomness that is Pietro. Lance was by now used to Pietro’s sporadic comments and musings, so the fact that Pietro was thinking about other things during foreplay really didn’t surprise him. After all, Pietro’s body did do things much faster than Lance’s own, so foreplay was more for Lance’s benefit than Pietro’s. Still, despite his lack of surprise, it still bothered him a bit that Pietro was off in Lala Land while Lance was attempting to be a good lover. “You were thinking about the Brotherhood during sex?”

“Not during. Before,” Pietro clarified pointedly. “You see, you’re kind of like the bossy, fussy mother--”

“Gee, thanks,” Lance muttered dryly.

“You’re welcome,” Pietro beamed, then continued with his little scenario. “Freddy would be like the deadbeat dad-- you know, sits around watching TV and eating snacks all the time. Todd would be the kid, because he’s the youngest and all... Wanda would be the older daughter who acts fussy and motherly when the mom-- you-- is not around. And John... uh, he’d be the older daughter’s slacker boyfriend who hangs out here all the time and practically lives here.”

“What about you?” This is the stuff he thinks about while I’m making love to him?!

“I would be your lesbian lover!”

Lance sputtered and nearly swallowed his spoon. “What?!” Pietro the lesbian. Well, there’s a bizarre thought. “So in your imaginary world, I’m married to Freddy--” Lance shuddered at the concept-- “Todd and Wanda are Freddy and my kids, John would be the freeloading boyfriend, and you would be a... lesbian.”

“Yup!” Pietro affirmed, nodding exuberantly, and then he giggled and ate another spoonful of cookie dough ice cream.

Wait a minute. Giggled? Pietro... giggle... A horrible realization suddenly dawned on Lance. Oh no. “Pietro, give me the ice cream.”

The other boy looked at Lance suspiciously and tightened his grip on the container. “Why?”

“Sugar. You. Too much. Bad.”

“Yeah, right, Tarzan. Yeesh, of all the people in the world, I just had to get stuck with the guy who randomly regresses to caveman-speak.”

“Pietro, hand it over,” Lance insisted firmly, taking hold of that which Pietro seemed to protect rather stubbornly.

“No! Get your own! It’s mine now, you hear?! Mine!”

Of all the people in the world, I just had to hook up with the guy who goes insane at the slightest taste of sugar, Lance groaned mentally. Then, an idea struck his usually barren mind, and he leaned over the side of the bed, hand grasping for-- got it! Lance whisked the whipped cream canister off the ground and aimed it at Pietro. “Give. Me. The. Ice. Cream.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

Pietro looked down at the sugary contents he was guarding so dearly, then back at his whipped cream wielding boyfriend who looked alarmingly dangerous all of a sudden... I could very easily dodge if he tries-- but he wouldn’t! He couldn’t!! Lance would never, ever do something like that to lovable little me! Pietro paused, continuing to stare down the threatening mutant. Maybe he would. No. He wouldn’t. He loves me too much and he knows the ice cream’s not worth it!

I can’t believe I’m going to do this, Lance lamented to himself. I can’t. Ah hell, he’ll dodge it anyway. Bracing himself for a dreadful aftermath, he aimed the whipped cream and Pietro and promptly shot the fluffy contents at the hyperactive boy.

Pietro didn’t dodge.

Lance stared in shock for a moment, his hand going limp and dropping the canister. He didn’t dodge. He didn’t dodge. Why the hell didn’t he dodge?! Shit. He’s gonna kill me. I’m a dead man. Oooh, I’m so dead.

Pietro, meanwhile, blinked rapidly, whipped cream clinging to his eyelashes. Why didn’t I move? he asked himself as he wiped the offending fluff from his face.

Because you thought he wasn’t gonna do it, idiot, came his own sardonic reply.

Oh, shut up, you.

You know, in saying that, you’re essentially--

Shut. Up. Oh, Lance is so dead.

“Um... Pietro? I love you,” Lance said in a desperate attempt to save himself.

Pietro stared silently at his soon-to-be-doomed boyfriend, a sort of odd calmness about him. Lance watched in dread as an evil, malicious smile suddenly graced the speedster’s face.

“Sweet peak freens!”

At the sound of Lance’s bizarre exclamation, the fiery little dragon projecting out of the lighter abruptly faded into oblivion as a distracted St. John looked up from his work.

“What the bloody ‘ell was that?”

“Sounded like Lance,” Todd answered indifferently, not taking his eyes off of his chemistry homework. Ahh, it’s about time I heard one of Lance’s random outbursts, Todd mused thoughtfully. Things finally sound normal again-- well, as normal as this freakish place can be...

“Well, yeah, obviously that was Lance, but why would he say ‘sweet peak freens’? What does that even mean?”

“I hate moles,” Todd murmured bitterly, then glanced at John somewhat sheepishly. “I mean, that’s not what it means; I just hate moles. Molarity. Molality. Six point oh-two times ten to the twenty-third. I’m gonna go crazy!”

“Yech. Chemistry. I’m so glad I burned all of my notes when I passed.”

“And was this before or after you got your powers, firefly?” another voice inquired, causing the other two to jump and look in the speedsters’ direction.

“Before, Speedy. Back in the day when I had to use matches in the harsh Australian outback and fight dingoes and stuff,” he drawled sarcastically. “Oh! By the way, what does ‘sweet peak freens’ mean?”

“I don’t know,” Pietro shrugged, “but Lance sure looked cute when he said it. So, what’re you boys doing? I need something to entertain me while he’s in the shower washing off whipped cream from some hard-to-reach places...”

“Whaaa?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Pietro said hastily.

“I’m old enough to know!” Todd snapped. “You guys still treat me like a little kid; I’m seventeen, yo! But, just ‘cause I’m old enough, it doesn’t mean that I want to know what you guys did... I just... wanted to clarify that I’m not a little kid anymore, so... carry on.” Todd blinked at his own statement, obviously confused by what he had just said.

Apparently, the scrawny teen wasn’t the only one confused by the statement. After giving Todd a funny look, St. John turned to Pietro. “Well, I wanna know what you two did that was so... bizarre that Lance had to shout ‘sweet peak freens!’. I’m older than you are, Pietro,” John countered, knowing full-well that he’d regret his curiosity if Pietro chose to elaborate.

“But, um... Lance is older than you are, so there,” Pietro retorted with a hint of triumph in his voice. He took a seat between Todd and John, then glanced down at the sort-of-amphibian’s homework. “That answer’s wrong,” he said casually, as if correcting someone’s homework was a part of everyday conversation.

“I don’t care anymore,” Todd groaned despairingly as he brought his head down against his textbook with a thud!. “Right now the mental picture in my head is mercilessly slaughtering my brain cells.”

“Suit yourself,” Pietro shrugged, then turned to John. “I guess there’s only you to annoy since Todd’s busy waiting for his brain to liquefy, or something. What’re you doing with that lighter?”

“Just practicing makin’ things. I’m bored outta my mind.”

“Ohhh. Can you make people yet?”

“Yeah, sure, piece of cake.”

“Can you make-- oh, I don’t know-- Bobby?” Pietro asked with a mischievous grin.

John looked at Pietro with some irritation and suspicion, then said in a very matter-of-fact voice, “Of course not. And why would I want to?”

“Because you liiike him. You think he’s gorrrgeous. You want to kiiiss him-- oh, God, smack me if I ever talk like that again.”

“Gladly,” Todd muttered.

“I don’t like him-- well, not in that way, anyway, but I’m starting to think that you do. You know, just because I smiled at the guy, it doesn’t mean anything. I wouldn’t mind gettin’ to know him and all, but I don’t want to kiss him or anything.”

“You’re in den-iiiii-al,” Pietro responded in a singsong voice.

“Am not!”

“Oh yeah?” Pietro challenged. “Can you go rent a movie for me?”

Caught off guard by the oh, so subtle topic change, John could only respond ever so intelligently with: “Huh?” How is that going to prove that I like some stupid X-Man? Is this a trick? It has to be a trick. Well, I’ll show him. John forced a grin and said in the nicest, most congenial voice possible, “Sure. What do ya want?”

“Well... I want ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’--”

“Pietro, with how many times you’ve rented that movie, we might as well just buy the damn tape, yo,” Todd said idly.

“Shut up,” John hissed. “That was gonna be his Christmas present! Now I have to actually think of somethin’ creative!”

“Good,” Pietro grinned. “Anyway, I want that and ‘Chocolat’. Mm. Johnny Depp. Oh... and get ‘A Life Less Ordinary’ for Lance. He’s got this weird Ewan McGregor obsession now. Oh! And I want... um... no, I guess that’s it.”

“Okay, fine. Todd, come with me.”

“Why? I gotta finish my-- ah, to hell with it. Can I drive?”

“Sure,” John said with an indifferent shrug, pocketing his lighter and standing up. He had yet to discover the dangers of being in a car with Todd Tolensky behind the wheel.

“Uh, I’ll be out in a sec. Gotta put my books away and all that,” Todd murmured, and John shrugged again and walked outside. After he was gone, Todd turned to Pietro and said accusingly, “You’re going to try and set him up with someone, aren’t you?”

“So what if I am?” Pietro retorted hotly, glaring at Todd defensively.

“Wicked!” Todd exclaimed with a wide grin, causing Pietro to blink and drop the defensive attitude. “That means you’ll finally stop trying to play matchmaker with me and that Rachel chick, right?” he asked excitedly.

“I guess. This may take all of my energy, remarkable talent, good looks, and skill to accomplish,” Pietro said thoughtfully.

“Good, ‘cause I hate Rachel!”

“Really?”

“Really. She’s about as bland as Jean Grey,” Todd affirmed sincerely.

“Wow. That’s bad. Okay, I’ll think of someone else for you,” Pietro nodded.

“What about Wanda?”

“You’re not getting my sister!” the speedster snapped.

Todd rolled his eyes and said slowly and patiently: “No, I don’t want her--”

“What? You’re too good for my sister?!”

“No! But she’s still dating John, so why are you trying to hook him up with someone else?!” Todd exploded before Pietro could take further offense. “Plus, I don’t want you to find me a girl. I can do it myself, yo.”

“I thought you were cool with the idea,” an obviously confused Pietro commented. “And you think the word ‘yo’ can help you get girls?!” [A/N: Well, I’d definitely find it endearing :D]

“I am cool with the idea, but-- you-- she’s your sister! And you’re gay! What do you know about picking up chicks?!”

“So? She’s with Evan now, remember? In fact, I’ll bet she’s with him as we speak! Did she go out to hang with her ‘cheerleader friends’?” Pietro chose not to dignify Todd’s last statement with an answer.

“Yeah,” Todd admitted.

“There you have it. And I know plenty of things about girls, okay! And in any case, whether he’s dating my sis or not, it’ll be fun setting him up with who I have in mind... Now, go with John to Blockbuster; I think Lance is out of the shower now.”

Todd took note of the eerie, predatory glint in Pietro’s eyes and obediently nodded, then rushed to the door hoping to escape the house and its insane inhabitants (well, Pietro and Lance. Freddy wasn’t really insane as much as he was gluttonous and violent. Besides, he was off with Amy somewhere in the house)

“Oh, Laaaaance?” Pietro called playfully, running upstairs once more. He could almost see the dread in Lance’s eyes as he ran to his room to play with his boyfriend some more. In fact, if he was an animal of some sort (I’d be something cool and exotic, that’s for sure. Like a... roadrunner or something.), he could probably smell the dread coming from Lance. This then led Pietro to wonder what dread actually smelled like, which left him vulnerable to Lance, who took the opportunity to tackle the speed demon and exact his revenge.

“Ah! Lance! Holy--!”

A/N: Pointless, wasn’t it? Well, this chapter was to make up for the total lack of Lance/Pietro that ran rampant throughout the first three chapters. Sometimes I forget this story is about them and not Iceman and Pyro hooking up >.< Stupid me. XD Uhh, I’m not sure what to say about this chapter, since I don’t even remember what I was thinking when I wrote it. Initially, I was gonna have Pietro tie Lance up and force him to watch drag queen movies (he was gonna force Pyro to get “Priscilla, Queen of the Desert” XD), but as you can see, I changed it and left whatever he did to Lance up to your imagination. ^_~

Oh, btw, Avalanche actually does say “Sweet Peak Freens!” in the comics (don’t remember which issue, and it doesn’t matter because I don’t have it), but I don’t know what it means or why he said it (kinda like when Pyro says “Strewth!” No clue what that means, but I’m guessing it’s not good, since he said it when his fire got blown back at him...). Uhh... yeah. If anyone has the ish where he says it or knows what it means, tell me! (as for Pietro’s “Miss Congeniality” moment... uh... it’s been a while since I’ve seen the movie, and I never even finished watching it, so I don’t know if the quotie thing is right or not. ^^)

Oh, and speaking of Avalanche, he ticked me off in the Season II commercial. Is he actually going to become “Irredeemable badguy”?!! AND WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THE PYRO RUMORS I KEEP HEARING?!!! They’re starting to frustrate me, if you can’t tell. :D I keep hearing that he’s in, then he’s out, then he’s in, out, and I fucking hate Magma (because... well, long, pointless story). But I like Cannonball, Iceman, and Multiple Man (even if they are making poor Jamie 12), and Jubilee’s all right, so I guess it’s okay... (and I’m one of the few people who’re glad that Gambit’s not yet in the show. MWAHAHAAA!! I love him, but he’s so freakin’ overrated and he’s already in everything, unlike Pyro who’s even been gypped out of a meaningful death...)

ANYWAY! I don’t know when Chap5 will be up since I have school again and stuff. Then again, I tend to write much faster during the school year, so we’ll see how it goes. :D