Author's Note: Hey! Long time no see! But... I'm back! How exciting is that?

Um, so, to get this crap out of the way, I don't own anything, go Marvel, woot woot...

Prologue

He wouldn't call what he was doing stalking. Stalking's a harsh word. He was… keeping an eye out. And he hadn't let the blonde dye grow out of his hair and he wasn't wearing black shades and a high-colored jacket so she wouldn't recognize him. He was a wanted man – mutant -, and he was sure the place they'd look second, after scouring San Francisco, was his old school, now that mutants were really out in the open. He was changing his look so he wasn't arrested, or worse. That was it. Everyone always makes everything more complicated than it has to be. The only people he had ever met who didn't were Magneto, Mystique, and her.

John idly fingered the silver chain around his neck as he watched the door of the Chinese restaurant her and that blonde guy had gone into.

Warren.

Angel.

Where the hell had he even come from? He just showed up one day, and now it was like her and Angel were together all the time. And what kind of self-respecting dude called himself Angel anyway? It was disgusting, and just a tad gay, if he did say so himself. Not that he would know. He was very much into women. In fact, Callisto had been pretty hot, and she had seemed to be into him, but Callisto sounded too much like Calypso, and then there was that damn necklace…

John gave the ring a subconscious tug. The minute, the second he had started even beginning to think about doing anything, it started to gain weight and pull down on his neck until it seemed like it weighed a ton, and he actually started to feel guilty. Him, feeling guilt! It was incredible. He had once vaguely wondered if she had done something to it with her power, but that was ridiculous.

Now, the jealousy, that had always been there, that was nothing new. It was just there a ten-fold, because she was actually holding someone else's hand. His fingers twitched. Him, St. John Allerdyce, Pyro, should not be missing something as small and insignificant as the touch of another.

But he was.

Hell, by all rights, he shouldn't still be a virgin. He was nineteen years old, and he had never banged a girl in his life.

The only way the situation could be worse was if Bobby had gotten some from Rogue since she had gotten the cure. He knew for a fact she had; Rogue, Bobby, her, and Angel had all gone to the movies the previous day, and she had been all over the Iceman. John had always bested Bobby at everything; the first time Bobby had ever beaten him was at Alcatraz, and his pride had taken a pretty hard hit then. If he had lost his before him, John'd kill him. He'd kill him, and then he'd kill Rogue.

A silver Jeep passed his car, and he turned his face away from the window.

It was her fault. He and she had never talked about it at all. It had never come up, hence it had never been considered. She was smart, she should have thought of it; he couldn't be expected to think of everything.

But then, he had to wonder: why hadn't it ever come up? As far as he could gather, it was normal in all relationships. Did that mean he and she hadn't had a normal relationship? Granted, they had only kissed once. Three times… but once. Oh God, once. Hot blood suddenly pulsed in his face and chest thinking about it. He gripped the steering wheel with such ferocity his knuckles turned white.

Damn her! Why the hell whenever he thought about her, that came up, and why all of a sudden was he so sorry he hadn't thrown her over his shoulder as he had numerous times before and forced her to come with him when he had left? How the hell did she manage to fuck up his head so much? It wasn't natural! Maybe that was her power too. She got into men's heads and twisted their thoughts.

John dismissed it quickly with a violent shake of his head. Whatever was going on, she didn't know she was doing it.

Damn her, damn her, damn her, damn her!!

He glanced at the clock on the radio. She had been inside for an hour. He settled back into his seat, taking deep breaths. Why were they even in a Chinese restaurant? Chinese food was gross; he could never know for sure what exactly was in it. Mexican food was better, spicier.

But she hated Mexican food. And he suddenly remembered she loved Chinese food. She could even eat with chopsticks. He remembered when she had tried to teach him how to use the damn things. He had felt like such a moron. His fingers had been clumsy and thick, and he had been swearing and threatening to break the things in half. She had laughed, gently put his fingers in the proper position, and then pleasantly told him to try again or she'd break him in half. He still couldn't use the stupid things. That was another reason he liked Mexican food more - it was hand food.

He slouched down in his seat as another car passed, and another thought entered his head. He would bet anything Angel could use chopsticks just fine. He sneered at the restaurant door as more unpleasant thoughts along the same lines followed the first.

He and John were polar opposites. He was tall and blonde. John was more on the short side, however much he was reluctant to admit it, with dark brown hair. Angel's only mutation was that pair of wings sprouting out of his back. John's was way better. So he couldn't create fire. Big deal. With his wrist mechanism attached to the lighter she had given him almost two years ago, the lighter he had refused to give up even after he joined Magneto's crew, he could do so much more. It was like that story of the man with the wax wings flying too close to the sun.

Well, if that didn't show who the superior being was, he didn't know what did.

That brought him to his next point. Why was she even with this guy? She had been with him for a while, and Alcatraz had only been five months ago. What had brought this complete change? They were nothing alike. How could she go from dating him to dating Angel?

He rubbed his temples. He didn't want to think about Angel anymore. He was disturbing his memories. The sun was beating down, but, because of his powers, the heat didn't touch him.

With a sudden start, John realized the entire time he had been back, he hadn't used her name once. Not thought it, or spoken it aloud. He frowned.

"Lexiss," he said determinedly. "Lex-iss. Lexiss."

With a satisfied sigh, he sat back, and watched the restaurant.

Only watching, for now.

Well, I know it's been a while, but please enjoy, and let me know what you think!