Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Lance/Tabitha; Ray/Kitty
Disclaimer: The X-Men belong to Marvel. I don't own, please
don't sue.
Sleepless in Bayville
© 2004, By: Ash Carroll (a.k.a. OlliKat)
1:32.
Punching her pillow to reshape it, she rolled onto her side and tried to get comfortable, listening to the silence for a while before sneaking another glance at the clock.
1:36.
Bayville was in the middle of a heatwave with no end in sight, and they couldn't afford air-conditioning. She exhaled heavily. Even in the lightweight drawstring pants and short-sleeved baseball tee, the sheets were too warm. With a frustrated growl, she pulled herself out of bed and opened the window.
A humid breeze rushed in; hardly enough to cool anyone off, but at least the air would circulate. Pulling her blonde hair off her neck, she gathered it in a high ponytail, changing into a thin white camisole and a pair of boxers she'd stolen from Lance the last time it was her turn to do laundry. Climbing back into bed, she tried to get comfortable, tossing and turning some more before she finally glanced at the clock again.
1:50.
Well, she wasn't going to get any sleep in this heat; not that she wanted to. Sleeping meant dreaming, and the only dreams she seemed to have these days were nightmares. Sometimes they were about her life before Bayville, sometimes they were about her life in Bayville, but one thing never changed; her father was a constant, uncomfortable presence.
Shaking her head clear, she sighed and wondered if Lance was up. They'd fallen into a routine of sorts since she'd moved in. Insomnia being a frequent occurrence for both of them, they usually ended up downstairs; sometimes watching TV, sometimes just talking. She'd discovered he was actually a pretty easy person to talk to when he wasn't acting all tough. And maybe that was just what she needed right now.
Neither of them had been very forthcoming about their respective pasts, but he'd been more open than she had. It wasn't that she didn't trust him. She did. But she was afraid that if she showed him the real Tabitha Smith, he wouldn't like what he saw.
'Smith, you think too much.'
Pulling herself out of bed, she slipped quietly from her room
and padded downstairs.
The spikey-haired mutant snuck a glance at his roommate, snoring softly in the bed across the room. Ray knew from experience that Sam was a light sleeper; they'd been sharing a bedroom for a while now, ever since Roberto and he had gotten into it with an all-out brawl. Logan and Beast had put a stop to it soon enough, but the Professor had decided it would be in everyone's best interest if the living arrangements were switched around a bit. Ray didn't mind; he and Sam got along pretty well.
Careful not to wake him, Ray slid out of bed and crept to the door. Opening it slowly, he prayed it wouldn't make any creaking sounds. It didn't, and he slipped from the room, shutting it quietly behind him.
Meanwhile, one floor above him, someone else had the same idea.
She tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position but had no such luck. It was unseasonably hot, even for Bayville, and though the Institute had air-conditioning, the upper floors were still much too warm in relation to the living room, kitchen, and basement levels. Even in just her bra and underwear, she was too hot to sleep. Maybe she'd go to the kitchen and stick her head in the fridge for a while.
She looked down at herself. 'I can't go down there dressed like this. What if someone sees me?'
Getting out of bed, she pulled on a pair of pink cotton pajama shorts and a matching top before phasing through the wall. Waking Rogue wasn't a concern, given that the other girl could sleep through just about anything. Moving quietly down the hall, she was headed for the stairs when she heard a door open a few feet ahead. Thinking quickly, she phased herself through the floor and down into the next hallway, scaring the daylights out of an unsuspecting Ray.
"Wh-"
Clamping a hand over his mouth, she phased them down into the foyer, releasing him as their bare feet hit the cool marble floor.
He glared at her. "What the hell did you do that for?"
"So we wouldn't get caught," she retorted in a harsh whisper, "that was, like, Logan's door we were in front of, in case you didn't know."
His glare lessened into a scowl. "Yeah well, it would've been fine if somebody hadn't scared the crap outta me."
She sent him a sheepish smile as a delicate pink blush stained her cheeks. "Sorry. I, like, heard a door open and had to book."
"Whatever. So what are you doing up this late, anyway?"
"Like, I could ask you the same thing."
"You could," he agreed with a shrug, "but I asked you first."
"I can't sleep. It's, like, a million degrees in here."
"Ditto." He turned to find her moving toward the doorway. "Hey," he called in a harsh whisper, "where're you going?"
She rolled her eyes as if the answer were obvious. "The kitchen. You know, to cool off?"
He shook his head. "I've got a better idea. Come on."
She eyed him suspiciously, but followed anyway as he led the way to the back of the mansion. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see," he promised, "just get us out."
Taking hold of his wrist, she phased them through the wall and
into the backyard.
Lance heard Tabby before he saw her, recognizing her soft footfalls on the stairs. It was a sound he'd come to know well, as this wasn't the first occasion she'd wandered down here to find him awake while their housemates slept.
He looked up as she entered the living room, and his eyes widened a little in surprise. It was, however, the first time she'd ever wandered down here wearing so little. There was something familiar about her pajamas, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was.
With a smile, she flopped down on the couch beside him, drawing her knees up to her chest. "I was hoping you'd be up."
He smiled back, offering his half-full bottle of Pepsi. "Couldn't sleep either, huh?"
She took a long swig and shook her head. "My sheets are soaked."
He looked over at her with a lascivious grin. "Damn, Tabs. Didn't know you were that kinda girl."
She smacked his arm, rolling her eyes. "From sweating, pervert. It's gotta be three hundred degrees in this place."
"Can't you take a joke?" he teased.
"Maybe when you learn how to tell one," she countered, gesturing at the TV. "So, what are we watching?"
He recognized the question for what it was and gave his typical answer. "Dunno. Not much on."
Their late night conversations usually started out this way. She'd ask what was on, he'd tell her 'not much', and they'd start from there, skirting the issue of their respective pasts; hers was currently swirling around her ankles, with his settled somewhere near mid-calf.
They sat in silence for several long moments, staring at the television until she spoke softly. "You've said you have nightmares." She looked over at him. "What do you do when they won't stop?"
He spoke softly. "What I'm doing right now. Usually though, I think about you."
She blinked. "You do?"
"Yeah. I like being around you; it makes me feel good. Helps chase away the nightmares." He looked at her. "So does talking."
"You never tell me about yours," she reminded him.
"Okay, so I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."
"All right," she agreed, "but you go first."
"Of course," he laughed, shaking his head, then grew serious a moment later. "I was six the first time it happened. My mother drank herself into oblivion and got mad at me for something. Coloring on the wall, I think. Not that you could tell with the roaches and the holes. She threw an iron at me. Fortunately, it wasn't hot. But it broke my arm in three places. Children's services took me away after a few more 'accidents'."
He met her eyes, finding quiet compassion, and lifted his beater, drawing her attention to the three-inch scar that stretched across his right side.
"I was ten, going on my eighth foster home in three years. My foster father got me with a butcher knife. Said I ruined his new VCR." He pulled his shirt back down. "You'd think I'd have put it all behind me by now, but I guess I never really will; at least not completely. The nightmares are always there, but they're not as bad as they were. Maybe I'm just used to them."
"I'll never be used to them."
"Tell me."
"My powers manifested when I was thirteen. My father treated me like a freak...until he figured out my abilities were useful. He used to make me steal for him; blast open payphones, vending machines...a couple times it was breaking into a store and popping the safe. I refused once; he beat up my mother and then came after me." She hung her head. "I dreamed about it for a long time, until my mother sent me to the Professor. The nightmares stopped...until he came back."
Lance sent her a sympathetic smile. "No wonder you freaked."
"He wanted me to do it again. I tried to say no, but-"
"He's your father; you wanted to make him happy."
She nodded, hanging her head. "I thought he wouldn't love me anymore if I didn't."
He slid an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him,
despite the house being so warm. "That makes it his loss, not yours."
Kitty followed Ray through the backyard, wondering where he was leading her. They crept around the back patio.
"The pool?" she whispered.
He shook his head. "Too noisy," he whispered back, "we'll wake up the whole house. I know a better place."
She shrugged, keeping pace with him as they made their way down across the grounds and away from the main house. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see in a minute," the spikey-haired teen answered back, taking a detour through the trees. "Come on, this way."
The brunette followed, phasing her way through the low branches. She recognized the path; it led to Ororo's garden. She wondered how Ray knew his way around here so well. Admittedly, she knew very little about him, but he didn't exactly strike her as the outdoors type.
The scent of Storm's wildflowers was strong in the air as the path wound through the trees for several feet before opening out into a clearing surrounding a large pond. Moonlight sparkled on the water's surface, and fireflies lit in the trees.
"How'd you find this place?" Kitty queried in an awe-filled whisper.
"Served detention with Storm," Ray replied with a shrug, "she told me I could hang out here whenever I wanted." He stripped off his t-shirt and waded in, turning to address her when he realized she hadn't followed. "You coming in or what?"
"I'm not wearing my suit."
He indicated his boxers. "Neither am I. What's your point?"
"Like, I don't want to get my pajamas all wet."
He shrugged. "Take'em off."
She blushed bright red. "What? I can't do that!"
"Why not?"
"Because you're a guy!"
Ray smirked. "Glad you noticed."
"I can't show my bra and underwear to a guy!"
"You didn't care last week, when you wore that little black string bikini."
The fact that he remembered exactly what color and kind of bathing suit it was didn't escape her attention. Her face was crimson now, and she struggled to try and explain herself. "That was a bathing suit. This is underwear."
He laughed. "Damn, Iceman was right. You are a prude."
"I am not!"
"Bathing suit, underwear...same difference," he shrugged, shooting her a wolfish grin. "Unless of course you're not wearing any..."
The brunette glared at him. The water was too inviting to resist, and she'd be damned if she was going to let him think she was a prude. It was no big deal, she told herself as she reached for the hem on her pajama top, just a fancier bikini.
"Fine," she deadpanned, stripping off the pink cotton garment, following with her shorts to stand on the bank in nothing but her pink lace bra and matching french-cut underwear. "Satisfied?"
He grinned, looking her over with appreciative eyes. "Getting there. So? You comin' in?"
She waded in until the water was deep enough to swim, propelling
herself toward the other side of the pond. She stopped midway and
turned back to face him with an innocent smile when she saw he wasn't following
her. "Are you gonna swim or not?"
"I feel like I've let him down."
Lance's voice was quiet. "If he makes you do things that hurt you, then he doesn't deserve your devotion."
Tabitha sniffled, pulling away with a sheepish smile, using the backs of her thumbs to wipe her eyes. "Thanks for saying that."
"It took me years and a lotta pain to figure it out." He turned to look at her. "You shouldn't have to go through that."
She tilted her head to the side, eyeing him thoughtfully. "Why do you care so much?"
Lance shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's because we're a lot alike." He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. "Or maybe it's because you're hot."
"Flatterer," she replied, rolling her eyes before turning a rueful smile on him. "Seriously."
"I was being serious. I honestly don't know." He grinned again. "And I really think you're hot."
She glanced sidelong at him, breaking into a grin herself. "Yeah, well, as long as we're being honest, here, I think you're pretty hot yourself."
"Seriously?"
She held his gaze. "Seriously. So, what now?"
"We could make out," he suggested with a smirk, sliding an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in for a long, slow kiss.
They separated after several blissful moments and she leaned her head against his shoulder, looping her arm through his so they could hold hands. Smiling, he leaned down for another kiss, resting his head against hers as she traced abstract patterns on his forearm with her free hand.
He grinned. "But this works, too."
"This was a really great idea," Kitty sighed as she lay floating with eyes closed, a serene smile curving her lips.
"Uh, yeah," Ray managed with a gulp, watching as the water lapped against her, "I guess it was."
He could see flashes of her fair skin through the lace, sending his imagination into overdrive. And he had to admit, he was imagining some pretty hot things. He was so lost in thought, he didn't notice Kitty had stopped floating until a huge splash hit him in the face. She treaded water a few feet away, gazing at him with laughing eyes.
He sent her a mock-glare. "Oh, you're gonna pay for that."
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Only if you can catch me."
And then she was moving, phasing through the bank and out of the pond, off running through the trees with the spikey-haired teen in hot pursuit. He was taller, with longer legs, so catching up to her was a relatively easy feat. Actually catching her was another story; with her phasing powers, it was impossible unless she wanted you to.
'No guts, no glory,' he told himself, then forcing his legs to move faster, wrapped his arms around her waist and tackled her. Laughing, she twisted under him so she landed on her back in the grass, out of breath from her run around the pond.
"Looks like you caught me."
Her voice was husky and she stared at him, watching as his eyes darkened to deep emerald. Ray gazed down at the brunette, hair spilling across the grass, settled around her head like a halo.
His voice was deeper than usual. "Looks like I did."
Kitty tilted her head to the side, bottom lip protruding in a small pout. "Aren't you going to make me pay?"
"I-"
His reply was lost somewhere in the fusion of their mouths. Neither of them was sure who'd initiated it, but it didn't really matter because they didn't plan on stopping it; at least not until the physical lack of oxygen forced them to. The kiss deepened, and several blissful moments of dueling tongues and roaming hands passed before the need to breathe overcame them. They pulled back, panting hard.
He stared at her for a moment before speaking; the first to break the silence. "We should get back to the house."
Her open mouth closed abruptly. "Oh." The brunette blinked in confusion. "I thought you were enjoying this."
He met her gaze. "I am. But it's not gonna be easy to stop if we go any further, and the last thing I want is for you to hate me for taking advantage of you."
She sighed. "Ray..."
He shook his head. "Look, Kitty, I like you, okay? A lot. But this isn't how I planned on us hooking up." He smiled sheepishly. "Actually, I was kinda hoping for a few dates before we got to the making-out stage."
She sent him an impish grin. "I'm not doing anything tomorrow night."
He grinned back and kissed her. "Good. Meet me downstairs at seven?"
She smiled, kissing him back. "It's a date."
Ray's grin faded. "We really should get back."
Kitty sighed, nodding in reluctant agreement as the two of them
pulled their pajamas back on over their wet undergarments. Catching
his hand as he moved past her, she smiled softly, curling her fingers around
his as they made their way back to the mansion.
"Tired?" Lance asked, her head heavy against his shoulder
Tabitha stifled a yawn and turned her head, gazing at him with sleepy eyes. "Getting there." She sighed. "I guess we should go back to bed and try to get some sleep."
His mouth curved into a wolfish grin. "Good plan."
She rolled her eyes. "In our own rooms? Geez, Lance, we haven't even been on a date yet."
Another grin. "We can fix that. Is Friday good for you?"
She shook her head with a light laugh. "Anyone ever tell you you have a one-track mind?"
He smirked and kissed her. "And the train's derailed. So? Friday?"
She laughed again. "Friday," she agreed. "So, where are you taking me?"
"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise."
She pouted. "Don't I even get a hint?"
"No. But I'll give you my personal guarantee that you'll have a good time."
She quirked an eyebrow. "Your personal guarantee. That could be interesting."
The rock tumbler turned to her, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Now who's got the one-track mind?"
Tabitha offered a sheepish smile in response. "What can I say? You're a bad influence."
A knowing grin split his lips. "Right."
She opened her mouth to respond, but stifled an unexpected yawn instead, eyeing him with a rueful smile. "I guess that means we should get some sleep."
The grin morphed into a soft half-smile as he leaned in to kiss her. "I guess so."
He watched as she rose from the couch, smoothing her camisole, then extended her hand to him. He took hold, rising to his feet as well, allowing her to lead him up the stairs. He noticed a faded spot on her boxers and suddenly realized why they'd looked so familiar.
"Are you wearing my boxers?" Tabitha looked back at the older teen, wearing a sheepish expression. Lance shook his head, pulling her down a step. "Come back here you klepto," he murmured affectionately, eyes dancing.
She grinned up at him, snaking her arms around his neck. "Told you you were a bad influence. If you really want them back..."
Lance kissed her nose, shaking his head. "Keep'em," he told her with a wolfish grin, "they look better on you anyway."
She gave a rueful smile and they continued upstairs, stopping in the hallway between their respective rooms. "I guess this is good night."
"Guess so. 'Night, Tabs."
"'Night."
"Sweet dreams."
A soft smile curved her lips. "For the first time in months,
I really think so."
The End