Thanks to everyone who reviewed "Papa, Can You Hear Me" which is a bizarre thing I
wrote on a whim at two am and posted the next day, completely unexpectedly (and largely
unbetaed -- whoops!). It could have benefited from an extra few days of tweaking, but
Psycho B is far to impatient to wait sometimes. If you haven't read it yet, go do it! Shoo!
:D
And, umm, I would like to apologize for all my bitching in the last chapter. I was having a
bad day. More like a bad week, month, year... you get the idea. AND the fact that I was
*impatiently* awaiting "The HeX Factor"... But again, sorry! Forgive me? Love me...?
PRE "The HeX Factor"/Scarlet Witch/Wanda rants (written before the 4/20/02 airing...):
Goddammit all to Hell!!! Can someone tell me what the fuck that was?! Dude! HOW
can they tease Psycho B so mercilessly with a teeny-tiny little promo like that?! I suffered
through Rescue Heroes and Yu-Gi-Oh to catch it, too -- which gave me a massive
migraine, because I was scowling at my television so hard, because I hate those shows.
Until I saw the promo... then I was freaking out and scrambling for the remote to tape it,
aaaand since I was too slow, it only taped the last half. I must have rewound it and
rewatched that damn snippet twenty times, searching relentlessly for my B-Hood babies...
which weren't shown, save Toddles, who sounded all screechy-bizarro and messy (like
usual) when yelling "Scarlet Witch!!" and piquing my curiosity to the boiling point.
ARGH! Must. Have. Episode. Right. NOW! Only one more day... woo. Scarlet
Witchie in a straitjacket in a mental hospital, and then setting crap on fire and screaming.
Does it get any better? Psycho B thinks not. >:D
::scene switch::
POST "The HeX Factor"/Scarlet Witch/Wanda rants (written 4/20/02 -- the first airing...):
WOO! EVIL WILL PREVAIL, BABY! I think... no. I KNOW this was the first time
the Brotherhood won a battle, and it was all thanks to Pie-Pie's lovely, deranged twin
sister, the Scarlet Witch! This is the best episode yet, in my humble opinion -- simply
because of all the Brotherhood. (Didja hear the arrogant X-Pricks call them the
"Loserhood"? They SO needed to get beaten down! >:D) This was the most B-Hood
jam-packed bit of heaven Psycho B has ever seen! :D I watched it twice. And I think I
may just have to go watch it a few more times, then take a nice nap, and have sweet
PietroDreams (TM). Another thing: Psycho B wants Wanda's powers! Is it just me, or
does it seem like she can do just about anything? Bitchin'! And Mystique's baa-aa-aack!
XD That SO jacks with my storyline, so we're gonna pretend it hasn't really happened
yet... coolies? `Kay. Miscellaneous ranting: didja see the preciously sweet, innocent
smiles the boys gave Mystique after Pie stole away Tabby's bomblet? Absolutely
adorable! And I liked when Mysti threw Toddles against the wall. ("Yeah, it's you...")
And when Pietro was trying to ingratiate himself to his sister. Like Pietro had any control
over what his father did at age, uh, whatever age that was supposed to be... she has no
right to be mad at him! Aaand Pietro as a beautiful youngster (*just* as I pictured him!
My darling little boy!) and also when he was acting mildly homosexual when measuring
Nightcrawler for clothing. Did anyone else notice that Pietro's first speaking lines were in
Lance's voice...? Odd... anywho! But, what was retarded was that whole
"Kitty-and-the-muffins" thing! Who gives a rat's ass whether Kitty can cook? That
wasted, pointless filler could have been spent on more B-Hood screen time! Gah! And,
uhh, what was that crazy-ass position Pietro fell into after Kurt knocked him over in the
clothing store? It was truly bizarre -- but looked like it would make an excellent slashing
position, if ya know what I mean... Pie's a super flex-all! (Note to self: use Pie's obvious
flexibility to your advantage in next smut scene... ahem.) By the way... what happened to
Tabitcha? Is she reverting back to the X-Twits? Or just disappearing... (like they would
actually do something right on that show...) Ahh, whatever. YAYNESS! Happy meeps!
MeLikiesPietroAndWandaAndLanceWoohoo! :D
And response to... (don't bother reading unless you've reviewed/read the reviews recently)
*DarkFire: I see what you mean about the Risty/Wanda copying thing. Mystique is a
twit. But a fun twit! :D I think I'm gonna have some kind of interaction scene, not really
a battle scene though, between the X-Freaks and my B-Hood boys. Wait and see...!
*Sky_Angel: Whoa -- long explanation, there! :D It doesn't matter if you're racist;
everyone has their little jollies. We have oodles of funky names for different ethnicities in
the US. (I'm a "cracker" -- woo.) To a point, everyone's kinda racist. I've been known to
get a little nervous when thug-looking black and hispanic people come into my bank for
whatever reasons. Stereotyping is a way of life. And stereotypes aren't based on nothing
-- they had to have some basis of fact to spin as wildly outta control as they do.
Understand what I'm rambling about? Kinda maybe? Ack. Anywho... now I know what
it means! :D That just made me realize, they never went over Australian history in
school. Sounds more interesting than most of the other crap they shove down our throats.
~ I was just in a bad mood when I was posting that chappy; I usually try not to badmouth
my stuff so much, but I, uh, yeah. Bad mood and all... O.o I have no idea when the story
will end. It depends on my devotion to Evo and how well the show (and this fic) keep my
interest. We'll see... AND! I can tell not everyone's over 17 who reads this, and I could
really care less. I only put the rating on there to keep the ff.net misuse/abuse bitches off
my back. ::smirks:: I first dyed my hair reddish-burgundy, then dark brown/almost black,
then I went blonde... needless to say, it was Hella orangey for awhile, there. Good times,
lemme tell ya. ^_~
*Tainisha: Umm, I kinda assume all my readers are female, and thought you were too,
until you mentioned a girlfriend... a bit misleading on your part, too! It's common
knowledge that Psycho B ain't the brightest bulb in the, uhh, package? See? I don't even
remember the proper insult! Aaaand... which chappy *is* your fave, out of curiosity? I
like to know what people like, so I can do more... (hint, hint). ~ The guy who played
Xavier in the X-Men movie is the same dude from Star Trek, right? Picard? That's prolly
why I thought it, although the baldness may have played a part as well... ~ I agree with
your Spyke theories. I also agree with your Wanda theories. Wiccan little thing. Identity
crisis...? ^.^
*R: Um. I hadn't realized how, erm, Freudian I was being, saying the chappy sucked and,
well, Lance, was doing some sucking and... yeah. But I honestly didn't mean it that way!
I swear! ::shifty eyes:: Even though I *could* say I *did* mean it, then I would seem all
clever... naah. ^_^ I'm pleased to be on the top of your list. May I ask who your real
fave author is...? O.o Long reviews are your friends. :D
*batE: Two? ::eye twitch:: TWO?!? I have done, like, three and a half graphic and
semi-graphic slash scenes! ::sniff:: I can't believe you don't remember!! But, I'll forgive
ya this time, cuz it's your birthday and all... just don't let it happen again! (I prescribe
re-reading those particular chappies, just to get back in the swing of things...) Also, it
seems as if everything I start to write for this story now turns to slash, so I have to watch
it -- too much of a good thing makes it bad... Feh. You're the only one who is even trying
to guess the name, and you already know! Very much ahead of the game... but it *does*
kinda rhyme (or whatever) with Psycho B, yes? Yes. ~ I never know what day it is, so
don't feel bad. This week has sucked ass, so it felt like it should have been Friday, or at
least Thursday, waaay back on Monday. Waiting for Scarlet Witchie didn't help make me
any less anxious for the weekend, either. Poo. :P
*Medusa171: I am so glad to know I'm not alone in the "slash-it-all!" mindset! I've been
feeling like some huge pervert, picking out random people/things from all walks of life to
slash... it's bad of me, I know it. But I don't care, cuz it is kinda fun... x_X Yeah, I use
net lingo all the time. I refer to myself as Psycho B when I talk to myself, or think to
myself in my head, so I guess the phone answering just kinda carried over. Wanda is,
well... just read my ranting section for more on her. :D
*Cherry Drop: Totally -- all the cute ones are gay. Damn it! ~ Wanda opinions: see rant
section. :D Psycho B is a slave to school, work, the computer, the menacing readers
advancing on me with pitchforks and flaming garbage for taking so long to update... hee
hee! I'm ya'll's bitch! (Eat, sleep, Evo... eat sleep, Evo...) Thanks for saying it didn't
completely suck! ^_^ Re-reading is fun!
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?)
*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter twenty-two: Before The Dawn
Lance's eyes opened slowly, then blinked rapidly to adjust themselves to the faint light
coming from the vanity table situated up against the far wall, near the bathroom. He could
make out Pietro's lithe form, seated on the small, velvet stool, smoothing lotion over his
arms. Closer inspection earned him the sight of the fresh water droplets still lingering on
his creamy skin, as well as the bright pink towel draped around his narrow hips. `Was
he... God, he even sits like a woman,' Lance thought, shaking his head slightly with a smile
as he noticed Pietro's shapely legs crossed in a relatively prim and proper manner. One
foot swung back and forth absently as he rubbed his vanilla lotioned hands over the points
of his elbows and back up to the curves of his shoulders. Pietro observed the movement
out of the corner of his eye, and decided to put on a little "show" for his audience of one,
which involved more liberal, lubricated self-caressing. Pietro was admittedly distracted
when he heard a thump coming from Lance's direction.
`Definitely not graceful enough to match me,' he thought with a chuckle as Lance
untangled himself from the bedsheets and made his way over to the still-moist speedster.
Lance inhaled deeply the soft scent of vanilla as his hands came to rest on Pietro's
shoulders. "Hey," came the husky greeting, followed closely by a chaste kiss to the cheek.
Pietro smiled.
"Hey, yourself," he answered, still caressing himself with the moisturizer.
"Pink?" Lance asked, smirking at the pale youth. Pietro scowled for all of two seconds,
then relaxed his face.
"It's *mauve*," he corrected haughtily.
"Mauve it is, then," Lance agreed, ruffling Pietro's damp hair and heading to the bathroom
himself to prepare for the new day. "Hey... Pietro! It's only three-fuckin'-thirty in the
morning!"
"Oops."
***
C'mon, Freddy, get up! There's foooood if you get outta bed!" Pietro sang cheerfully as
he made his path down the hallway. He paused again in front of Todd's door.
"Toddykins, time to greet the day! And what a beautiful day it is! Wakey, wakey!"
"What the fuck, yo?" Todd demanded sleepily, rubbing his eyes in the doorway as Freddy
emerged from his quarters. He was slightly more enthusiastic that Todd, given the fact
that there was food promised.
"What time is it?" Fred wisely inquired. Todd scowled.
"Only four am, yo! This ain't right," he whined, and turned to return to his bed. Pietro
was quicker.
"OhNoYouDon't," Pietro informed the short mutant, yanking him towards the bathroom
with purpose. "We're all going out before school. ALL of us," he repeated, glaring
especially hard at Todd. The toad *hmph*ed and pulled out of Pietro's grasp.
"You's crazy, yo," he confirmed. "No place ain't open at four in the mornin'," he added
with a confident air. Pietro's smirk grew.
"There are, indeed, places open at this hour. And guess what? I'm even gonna give you a
choice: do you want Denny's or IHOP?" Pietro asked.
Todd's jaw just about hit the floor, and Freddy looked like he'd died and gone to Heaven.
"We-- we're goin' out to breakfast? With what funds, yo? We ain't got no coinage
what-so-evah," Todd reminded Pietro, pulling out the empty pockets of his pajama pants
for emphasis.
"That's not your problem, now is it, Toad?" Pietro asked, smoothing his downy-white hair
as if there were a huge mirror before him. (Vanity is *so* not a sin in the case of someone
so pretty!)
"What're we gonna do? Eat an' run?"
Pietro looked at the boys evenly, before giving his reply: "We have money. There is no
crime involved. Now, I suggest, if you would like breakfast, you kindly make a decision
before Lance and I leave without you." As if on cue, Lance stepped out of their bedroom,
running his fingers through his damp hair.
"So? Which is it? IHOP or Denny's?" Lance asked, coming up behind Pietro and placing
a possessive hand on his waist. Pietro scooted to the side. Lance looked at him for a
moment, deciding this wasn't something worth getting in an argument over. He returned
his hands to his jeans pockets, gazing longingly at Pietro's backside.
"If ya got the cash, howsabout both?" Todd said wistfully, watching Lance's reaction
carefully. He knew Fred would be all for it.
"If you really think you could eat that much, fine," Pietro agreed. The present company
departed back to their respective rooms to prepare, leaving Lance to sputter to the
emptying hallway about unnecessary spending and damned conniving beautiful speed
demons.
***
At approximately four-thirty in the morning, a forest green Jeep pulled into the
near-vacant parking lot of the local International House of Pancakes. Round one. Ding!
Freddy slapped his meaty palms together and smacked his lips as he hauled his obese form
out of the back seat. Todd hopped out after, leaving the occupants of the front seat
blissfully alone. Lance started to speak, to apologize for whatever he'd unknowingly done
wrong, but Pietro hushed him.
"I'm sorry I sidestepped ya earlier," he said quickly. "Just my normal reaction. Well, my
normal pre-you reaction. I wasn't thinking. Sorry." Pietro bit his lip, hard, coaxing out a
small quantity of blood. He wasn't used to apologizing on a regular basis. Hell, he'd never
said "I'm sorry" more in his life than since he'd hooked up with Lance! Darned
rock-tumbler!
"No problem," Lance assured him, relieved it wasn't something catastrophic. Feeling
confident, he leaned over to smooch the smaller teen, but missed entirely: Pietro was
already out of the car, heading towards the entrance to pancake land. Lance sighed.
"Later, definitely," he muttered, exiting the vehicle and slamming the door viciously to
vent his brewing anger.
***
"Man, did you see that?" Todd asked his large buddy, snagging a coffee creamer sample
from a dish in the center of the table, located right next to the napkin dispenser and
condiment carrier. The boys had been watching the display in the Jeep with morbid
curiosity since being seated -- the corner booth, padded and circular, with an extra chair
placed at the outer opening for Freddy, who couldn't seem to be able to squeeze his girth
into the allotted space between the seat and the table.
"Yeah," Fred responded, turning around again to peek out the large,
advertisement-painted windows. Pietro was "walking" into the building now, and Lance
looked pissed. He slammed the car door pretty hard, from what Todd could tell. `Great.
Another bitch fight.'
"WhaddyaGuysWannaOrder, huh?" Pietro questioned quickly, sliding into the booth
beside Todd. He picked up a menu and scanned it almost immediately. "Hmm...
TheRootyTootyFruityThingLooksGood, ButIDon'tReallyLikeEggs,
EspeciallyWithNoToast, Sooo... MaybeI'llJustGetABigPlateOfPancakesWithFruit," Pietro
decided, his seatmates blinking rapidly, trying to decipher the PietroSpeak (TM) at the
early hour.
"You *are* a fruit, yo," Todd mumbled, earning him a hard poke from the aggravated
speed freak.
"GottaProblemWithIt?" he demanded, glowering at the punky youth. Todd shrugged.
"Naah," he decided, bringing his attention back to the menu. Both boys noticed that
Freddy was being awfully quiet...
"Freddy, yo! Wake up, man!" Todd hissed, kicking Freddy under the table. Said boy
woke with a start, swiping at the drool that had accumulated on and around his chin.
"Whaa happened?" Fred slurred, looking around as in still in a dream.
"We're at IHOP, remember, Freddy?" Todd prompted, somewhat alarmed that the large
mutant wasn't yet aware of this fact.
"Oh, yeah," Fred said, a slow smile breaking across his face. "I thought I was dreamin'...
what're we getting?"
Todd rolled his eyes. "Whatever you want, buddy -- P an' Lance got connections."
"Oh."
"SpeakingOfLance..." Pietro cut in, squinting out the window in attempt to spot the
brunette. No luck. "I'm gonna go find him."
"'Kay," Todd mumbled absently, spearing another container of creamer with his straw.
Pietro zipped outside, looking around for his companion. A cursory glance got him
nowhere, but an off possibility lead him to the back of the building, where Lance was...
"Goddammit, Lance!" Pietro screeched, snatching the freshly-lit cigarette away from his
lover and smashing it under his shoe. Lance let out a pitiful moan. "I don't want you
tasting like an ashtray! If I catch you with another cancer stick, I will rip your arms off
and beat you with the bloody ends! You hear me?" Pietro yelled at Lance, making wild
arm movements to accentuate his speech. The fair-haired teen then began patting the
older boy down, searching for the remainder of the pack. "C'mon, Lance, give `em up...
we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Your choice.
IKnowYouHaveMoreThanJustOne..."
Lance was shocked into silence as Pietro frisked him aggressively, grabbing his crotch
ruthlessly during the inspection. Truth be told, he was almost hoping Pietro would find
him back here, smoking and being awfully bad, and feel the need to "punish" him. "I only
had that one, Pie... just for emergencies," Lance promised lamely.
Pietro stepped back, somewhat satisfied with the search that had offered relatively the
same conclusion: that there were no more cigarettes. He shook his head and scrunched
his nose. "You smell now. Let's just go in and eat. You can make this up to me later."
With that, Pietro spun on his heel and started around the corner, trailing his hand along the
rough red bricks and cursing softly when his fingers grazed a particularly sharp spot,
drawing his paining fist to his mouth by habit.
`What just happened here?' Lance pondered dumbly. Pietro had been walking at a normal
pace, which made it possible for Lance to catch up quickly. "Hey."
"What?" Pietro turned on him quickly, rubbing his sore hand.
"I didn't wanna... I mean, I didn't plan to need that, I haven't had one for like... ever since I
came to Bayville. Mystique made me quit. I don't know why I kept the damn thing in the
car. Prolly just a safety cushion, or something... yeah," Lance babbled, leaving Pietro to
contemplate this new information.
"I can understand your reasons, Lance. Let's just go inside, before Freddy eats the table."
It was not open to discussion. Lance followed Pietro obediently to the glass double
doors. He looked at the ground as they made their way to the back corner booth, where
Fred and Todd were already enjoying several platefuls of assorted breakfast entrees.
::Whi-pish!::
Scooting in close to the stand-offish teen, Lance perused the menu for his choice meal.
Unfortunately, the waitress came over almost immediately to take the new diners' orders,
which left Lance with pitifully little time to scan the items available for sale. He hadn't
even time to open his mouth to speak before Pietro was ordering for the both of them:
pancakes with fruit topping and whipped cream. `Eh, it'll do,' Lance decided, somewhat
intrigued by Pietro's new "take charge" attitude. He wondered if it would carry over to
the bedroom. `Haaaaaandcuffs...' ::Whi-pish! Whi-pish!:: >:D
Playful banter ensued between the four until the waitress arrived with the goods, including
extra for Freddy. Pietro snatched the plate from her proffering hand greedily, grabbing his
knife and fork and digging right in. Lance observed the action with mild amusement; he
would never get enough of Pietro's bizarrely squirrel-like eating habits when very hungry.
He found it strangely adorable -- that, and about a million other things Pietro did. Lance
waited a moment before devouring his own pancakes -- he still had precious coffee to
consider. Not as good as the "real thing" (aka Starbucks) but a passably good beverage
just the same. `Better'n home, that's for damn sure.' Todd's tongue sneaking across the
table toward Freddy's half-eaten doughnut was the turning point, however. The hefty fist
closed tightly around the offending appendage, causing Todd to squeal in pain and hop out
of his seat onto the table to shorten the distance between himself and the thing clamped
onto his tongue, thus lessening the pain. Or so he thought.
"What's the idea, Toad?" Freddy demanded in his slow Texan drawl, the look on his pudgy
face threatening as ever. Todd gulped the best he could with no tongue.
"Sowwy, yowh!" he pleaded, and Fred's grip on him lessened enough for the freshman to
escape it's clutches. "Oww... is that ya final answer?"
"It's *mine*," Fred insisted, holding the half-eaten doughnut possessively to his chest.
Even Pietro had stopped eating by this time to observe the skirmish, his fork paused
mid-way to his mouth. Lance took hold of his wrist and lowered the utensil back down to
Pietro's near-empty plate. Pietro's slim white hands let go of the fork and slid under the
table to rest in his lap, each palm settled atop a thigh. Lance's hand crept slowly to
Pietro's lap, seizing a hand to hold. The smaller teen didn't pull away; rather, his grip
tightened around Lance's, lacing his fingers through his beau's. Lance smiled, despite the
melee going on in front of them. Freddy noticed the goofy grin and demanded to know if
Lance was making fun of him.
"Of course not, Freddy," Lance said irritably, annoyed that the large mutant was
interrupting his precious Pietro time. Lance glared the obese boy down, and Fred wisely
opted out of a confrontation. After all, Lance was (somehow) paying for his
multiple-course meal. Lance sat back, now with a satisfied smile on his face. Until Pietro
jerked his hand back. Lance's head turned sharply.
"I need it to eat," Pietro reminded, taking another bite of the gooey pancake mess on his
plate. Lance had a mental "D'oh!" moment, and resumed his own eating. He inched
closer and closer to the speed demon. Maybe, just maybe, he could get Pietro to sit in his
lap...
"Eeeep!" Pietro was hoisted by a pair of strong but gentle hands onto said lap. He was
about to protest loudly (and, most likely, violently) until he saw how much it bothered
Todd. Pietro smirked and settled back against Lance's chest, sending an evil grin in the
toad's direction. To further annoy him, Pietro scooped up a forkful of gooey pancake
mess and fed it to Lance, watching Todd's face all the while. The disturbed, disgusted
look was classic. It was too much fun!
Pietro was glad that they were the only patrons gracing the IHOP at that ungodly hour of
the morning. He shuddered to think what other people, people who didn't know and
understand, would think. Lance felt the shudder and mistook it for arousal. His fingers
crept up the side of Pietro's formfitting gray sweater, smoothing the soft skin beneath with
a tender caress. Pietro wasted no time in slapping his questing hands away. "Laaater," he
promised. "Besides, you still owe me for that little scene around back. You have to make
it up to me," Pietro reminded, these last words whispered against Lance's ear, and
followed by a small, promising lick. (Like Lance would have any problem with *that*...)
Lance tried to reply, but found his mouth crammed full of pancakes, courtesy of Pietro.
He gurgled an unintelligible something in response, but Pietro wasn't really paying
attention; rather, he was looking at Todd. `What? That toad better not be putting the
moves on my woman!' Lance thought angrily, then stopped. `Woman...? Uh, no. My
*man* -- all man,' his polluted thoughts ran rampant, scanning Pietro's clothing-encased
body hungrily. How he wished this was a nude IHOP... `NO! Then Freddy would be
naked... ::shudder:: and Todd, too. No. And the X-Geeks... wait! X-Geeks?'
Indeed, it was true: the X-Kiddies were setting up shop in the other back corner booth,
directly across the eatery from the boys. Pietro was too busy annoying Todd to notice
Evan glaring at him, still perched on Lance's lap and stuffing pancake slop in his face.
Pietro noticed Lance's fixed stare and followed his gaze. "OhMyGod, no..." he said, his
voice cracking at the sight. He shimmied off of Lance's lap and blushed furiously, his eyes
lowered in disgrace. Of all the people to witness this! Pietro wanted to die on the spot.
Not like actual death, it was more like
"ICan'tBelieveThisIsReallyHappeningOhGodI'mSoooFuckingEmbarrassedIWannaDie!"
Yes. Just like that.
The X-Twits in attendance included the red-headed bitch, Summers, Daniels, Wagner,
Kitty and Rogue, who had been trying to attract the team's attention away from the
Brotherhood. She was not successful.
Summers was visibly itching for a fight, Lance could tell, but he played his "Mr.
I'm-Just-Gonna-Play-It-Cool-And-Pretend-I-Don't-Wanna-Fight-When-I-Really-Do" act
to a tee. He sat his happy little group down and tried his darndest not to turn his head and
watch the mutants occupying the other far back corner booth. He could, however, still try
to peek with his eyes, since no one could see what his eyeballs did beyond the sunglasses...
"Do you want to take off?" Lance asked Pietro, who was pushing the remaining food on
his plate into small piles with his fork, then squishing them flat, only to start the process
over again.
"No." A firm answer. Pietro was determined not to look cowardly and weak! He
scooped up a heaping forkful of pancake and fruit much and stuffed it in his mouth,
chewing viciously, giving the evil eye to his plate the whole time.
Lance knew better than to touch the speedy little darling, much as he wanted to, as it
would only make him more self-conscious. He picked up his coffee mug and swirled the
rapidly cooling beverage, taking a long sip and almost spitting it back out onto his plate.
Time had turned the once tasty beverage vile and cold. "Pietro, we're almost done here,
anyway. Let's just go before they come over here or something," Lance urged.
"Whatever. Let me up, please," Pietro requested in an even voice. Lance scooted out of
the booth to allow Pietro to exit. Lance quelled his desire to either follow Pietro out the
door, or saunter over to the X-Freaks' table to wreak some major havoc, and say some
punny phrases involving the word "rock". `Yeah, that's almost as tempting as following
Pietro into...' Lance craned his neck to watch, `the men's restroom.' Lance smirked and
threw a handful of bills onto the tabletop, hurrying after his embarrassed boyfriend. Of
course, he had to re-warn Todd and Freddy not to take the money for themselves. Lance
took one last glance towards the X-table before slipping through the swinging blue door
marked "gentlemen".
Pietro was locked and seated in a stall, his face hidden in his hands. Lance peeked through
the slit between the door and the mounted apparatus holding the door on (I *dare* you to
think of a word for it!). Pietro was... crying?
"Hey, are you okay?" Lance asked, concerned, as his friend's silent sobs became more
vocal.
"Why, WHY did they have to see that? Why?" Pietro moaned, sniffling and gasping for
air between sobs. Lance could see this may take awhile.
"Look, let me in, willya?"
"No."
"If you don't, I'm gonna avalanche the door off."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Wanna bet?" Lance asked arrogantly as he splayed his fingers at the door and grunted
"Argh!" the way he's been know to do.
"Lance!" Pietro shrieked, and the tremors ceased abruptly. The toilet had fallen over and
cracked due to the shaking (not to mention several others as well) and had Pietro not been
as quick as he was, he would have gotten a very wet bottom. The door was also off it's
hinges.
`I love my powers sometimes,' Lance thought triumphantly, knocking to door out of the
way and kneeling in front of Pietro. He tipped the pale boy's face to meet his eyes.
"Look, I--"
"Ja! And the earth-qvaking was through de entire building!"
"Kurt, you know it was just-- hellooo," Summers greeted the pair coldly, looking
disapprovingly at their current suggestive position; sitting and kneeling. He'd heard
*things* after the two had come to the mansion for help, but he really didn't expect it to
be true. But, apparently, it may very well be. He returned his gaze to his companions:
Wagner and Daniels.
`Great,' Lance mentally muttered. `Pietro's gonna have a nervous breakdown here, and
Summers and the gang are just gaping at us. Woo-fucking-hoo.'
Scott, unable to decide how to handle approaching the blatant homosexuality inquiry,
decided on an easier reason for "dropping by". "What's with the avalanching, Alvers?" the
bespectacled mutant asked rudely, stepping back a pace when Lance stood up to his full
height, assuming his usual crude demeanor. Lance cheered inwardly at seeing the others'
slight fear. He took a step forward. Pietro stood behind him, his pose equally menacing,
despite the slight red blotches his crying had left on his normally flawless complexion.
Looking closely enough, one could even detect a touch of redness ringing his clear blue
eyes, which were narrowed in contempt.
"None'a your business, Summers," Lance retorted, stressing his opponent's name into a
curse. Scott glared from behind the ruby specs.
Lance was about to snarl one of his notorious rock puns at the three intruders when he felt
a hand on his arm. "Let's just go, Lance."
Lance nodded, not breaking eye contact with Summers and crew until he was gone from
the bathroom. They headed immediately out the door, pleased to see Todd and Fred
already waiting in the Jeep.
Lance guided Pietro through the door with one hand on the small of his back. Pietro
made no effort to dart away from the contact, despite the fact that there were other people
milling around the parking lot; the early morning rush just beginning. The sun was now
up, both boys observed, squinting into the bright light and shielding their eyes his their
hands.
"Why did that have to happen?" Pietro grumbled from behind his sun-shielding arm,
kicking at a loose chunk of pavement. Lance scowled.
"Why do you care so much? It's not like Summers or any of `em can do anything about
it!" Lance yanked the door open for Pietro, then stalked around to his own side to open
the other door.
Pietro smirked with glee. `Chivalry lives-- in Lance Alvers...?!'
"I mean, why are you so afraid to be seen with me in public?" Lance continued as he put
the gearshift in reverse and began backing out of their previously chosen parking space.
"I'm not afraid," Pietro countered quickly. "I just... don't know." Lance shook his head,
straining to see into the bright sunlight.
"Uh, hey, yo, where we goin'?" Todd piped up from the backseat, noticing that they
weren't headed in the direction of home. Lance, reveling in his bad mood, smirked with
malice.
"You boys are going to school," he revealed, a smile of satisfaction plastered across his
face. Pietro met Todd's horrified eyes in the rearview mirror.
"Say what? It's too early to go to school, yo!" Todd protested, shaking Lance's arm in
desperation.
"Knock it off, Toad," Lance warned, his bad mood embittering him and leaving no room
in his heart for sympathy. "You either go to the school now, or you go home and start
walking right away, and you'll need to, cuz it's a long walk," Lance assured the freshman
while fumbling in the glovebox for his sunglasses. Pietro shoved his blindly reaching
hands away and located the tacky eyewear instantly. Lance accepted the item gratefully,
and slid on the shades. Pietro giggled.
"What?" Lance asked exasperatedly, sparing the giggling teen a brief glance before
returning his eyes to the road.
"You look... you look like Summers!" Pietro exploded in laughter, the boys in the back
seat joining him soon thereafter. Lance scowled. (That's a rather common facial
expression in this story, isn't it? Smirking and scowling. Hmm. I need a thesaurus.)
"Screw you!" Lance demanded, trying not to chuckle himself at the thought of looking
even remotely like that jerkoff Summers. As if he could! Hmph.
"Aww, do you mean it, Lance?" Pietro cooed impishly.
"Mean what?"
"That I can screw you..." Pietro punctuated his statement with a wandering hand, earning
a pair of disgusted groans and "Aww, man!"'s from the back seat.
"Yeah, you two -- school. No buts," Lance said sternly.
"I'm still hungry," Fred whined. Lance groaned.
"McDonalds?" he asked the large mutant, who nodded enthusiastically. They hadn't, after
all, made it to their promised second round of breakfast at Denny's. Everyone was on the
lookout for the sign of the golden arches. Pietro was the first to spot them.
"Over there, Lance! Pull in over there!" Pietro bounced in the seat, pointing at the shop.
The drive-thru line was wrapped around the building.
"Ffffuuuuuuccck..." Lance stretched the obscenity to its maximum potential. Pietro rolled
his eyes.
"Do we have to wait on this line, Lance?" he asked impatiently. "I'm tired."
The earth-shaker shut his eyes behind the tacky sunglasses, trying to tune out the whining
coming from the passenger's seat. "Fred, how badly do you need this?" he asked.
Fred looked at the floor of the Jeep. "I guess I can do without it..."
"Thank God," Lance muttered as he tore out of the crowded parking lot, headed for
school. `Our last day off alone,' he reminded himself, his eyes shifting to take in Pietro's
classic profile from behind the shades. He wanted to make good use of it.
Much grumbling and griping accompanied Todd and Fred's departure from the vehicle. It
was still quite early to be getting dropped off at school, but Lance refused to make
another trip just for those two. Pietro sighed and sat back and closed his eyes, his head
and neck fully dependent on the headrest.
"Home?" Lance said, more an affirmation than a question. Pietro nodded, his heavily
lashed eyes still closed to the intrusive early morning sunlight.
***
As Lance pulled in the drive, Pietro's ice blue eyes slid open, blinking owlishly. He slowly
unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out onto the cracked pavement, noting that they should
really get that repaired if they were gonna be spending a long time to come living in this
house. `Where did that come from?' Pietro wondered. `It's not like we're gonna get
married and live here forever. Haha-- married. Ha.' He cast a nervous glance in Lance's
direction and jetted into the house.
Lance was trying to organize the day's plans: first, call to confirm that the furnace-fixing
dude was coming and when, then maybe, if there was time, go out appliance shopping to
appease Pietro. Fun, fun, fun! He started for the staircase after hooking his coat on the
rack near the door. `Damn, maybe a little nap wouldn't hurt,' he thought, yawning even as
he went to his room to change. Well, not "change" so much as "undress". He noticed
Pietro already curled up in their bed, apparently having the same idea about taking a
morning siesta.
Lance crawled under the covers, careful not to disturb the sleeping speed demon, and
cautiously spooned up against his lover, one arm draped around his waist securely. He
was finally able to breathe when he felt Pietro's stiffened body relax against him, and
placed his own arm over Lance's, resting comfortably. Lance could feel the steady rhythm
of the smaller boy's heartbeat beneath his palm. Regular and constant. Soothing. The
faintest scent of vanilla... and sleep. Just sweet, peaceful sleep.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I LUV WANDA! Erm. O.o Yes. Short-ish ending notes today. Whee! XD
Interactive blah blah thing (I am far too lazy to ever again retype this...)
Oh, poo. No one tried to guess my name, or really even commented on my stupid phone
answering mistake! Whatever. :P
New interactive thing:
Okay, you knew it was coming: I wanna hear ya'll's rants about Wanda/Scarlet Witch and
"The HeX Factor"! Any and every little thing! Rant away! :D
Review, or I'll sic Pietro's deranged, disturbed sister on you, and she'll, uhh... explode your
house! >:D