I am getting way depressed with the review situation here -- hardly anyone is reviewing! Even if ya just type a lil' smiley face, at least leave me something, so I know someone's reading it! C'mon, ya lazy butts! ^_~ And I also wish some of my slash writing (and non-slash writing) idols would read and review it -- some of you guys were my first inspiration, and you've disappeared! I hope you haven't all fallen out of love with slash and the B-Hood! Say it ain't so! ^^;;;

Disclaimer: As if! No, really, if you actually believe I own any of this (makes grand sweeping gesture) then I have some prime swamp land down in Florida you may be interested in... No, seriously. I don't own anything. (Duh?)

What the...? he found himself thinking once again. That's twice tonight I've woken up thinking that exact thing, he marveled. Although this time was remarkably more pleasant...

He had given up attempting to find a comfortable position to sleep in on the armchair in the corner, and had snuck over to Pietro's bed after about an hour. It hadn't occurred to him to return to his own room. Okay, fine, it had occurred to him, but... he promised the boy! Yes! That's it! He promised Pietro he would stay, so he would. End of story. Hmph.

Lance heard a small moan as his heat source repositioned itself a bit, snuggling closer. The infernal tickle was back with a vengeance. Pietro.

Said boy was having a gay old time (pardon the pun) clinging to Lance's back. Even through the sheets and blankets (Lance hadn't actually gotten under the blankets. Yet.) he could feel him. And this made Pietro a very happy boy.

Lance had been covered by Pietro burrito-style; the top blanket folded over him. The blanket only reached halfway across the rock-tumbler's body, but it was better than nothing. This, unfortunately, left a very chilly speed demon on the other side of the bed. Lance heard a small clicking noise coming from behind him, and when he turned over to investigate the source of this sound, he realized, to his horror, that it was, in fact, Pietro. He was so cold his teeth were chattering!

"Christ!" Lance exclaimed, jumping up immediately and tucking and bundling Pietro in the bed coverings as best he could. The ceiling fan had been left on because Pietro couldn't sleep without the �white noise� in the room. "What kind of nut leaves the friggin' fan on in the middle of winter anyway?" Lance grumbled aloud as he completed his task. The boy's skin was like ice -- he had goosebumps on his goosebumps. What was it he'd learned in survival camp? If someone's suffering from hypothermia or whatever it was called (although Lance was doubtful it had gotten that far) you're supposed to what? Think, Lance, think! he urged his brain. He went over to the wall to flip the switch that controlled the fan off. Wait -- I think I remember now...

Despite the cold, Lance shimmied out of his pajama pants and t-shirt, leaving him in nothing but his undies. Only for body heat, only for body heat... He repeated in his head like a mantra. He refused to accept that he might have a teeny, tiny, itsy-bitsy little bit of feeling for the presently-freezing-to-death-but-not-really mutant. He didn't know just how to deal with it, so he simply ignored it. That made it easy enough. Until you're faced with a situation like this -- Leave the boy the fuck alone! coming from one part of his brain, and Get in that bed, you fool! You know you want to! Take your one and possibly only chance! from another. Yet another part of his mind was calmly and rationally telling him about that infernal survival camp training -- You know what you have to do, Mr. Alvers. Keep that child from harm by any means necessary. This rationalizing part of his brain teamed up with the "Get in the Goddamned bed this minute!" side, and proceeded to beat the "No, no, no! Bad Lance!" part into submission.

Lance got in the bed.

Since I'm typing this at work, I'm gonna use another quote for my trivia/cool quote(s)/crazy X-Men and/or Brotherhood related thing I do (so ya'll can laugh at me)/random category thing! TM, okay? Okay.

It's not really X-Men or Brotherhood related, actually, it isn't X-Men or Brotherhood related at all. It's related to... ME Hahaha! It's a quote I have taped to my computer at work:

"All right, who put the stop payment on my reality check?"