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

Aftermath:  Chapter Eight
By Lady Eternal

 

                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.