OK, so after the decidedly positive reaction to the Effect arc, I've decided to kind of rent into this fandom as opposed to move in permanently, because as of yet I haven't got a plot, so I can't write anything substantial.

This little one-shot came from a line that just popped into my head yesterday and refused to go away. It's kind of set post-X3, assuming that John's come back to the mansion, but instead of Bobby being all right with it, he's in 2 minds. Told from Bobby's POV.

Note: mild slash

You looked right at me, eyes burning with hate and fear and despair and I felt as though you'd burned a hole right through my own eyes and out through the back of my head. Or into my brain, at least. That's how you were looking at me, as though you could see every single last memory, every thought, every wish and desire and hope and you were twisting them all to your own devices.

You said something, and I had to pull back a snarl. As much as I wanted to fight you, I also didn't want to. The rational part of my brain told me that it's best to get this over with, but it also told me to ignore you. The irrational part told me just to let myself go, but it also told me to stay away from you just to spite you. I wasn't sure which of the four to listen to.

And then as though a switch had been flicked, we were clashing like Heaven and Hell and everyone around us was screaming. I think the teachers had to use their powers to get us apart. Apparently there was scorch marks frozen into the walls. But I didn't stay around long enough to notice. I just wanted to get as far away from you as I possibly could.

This is something that is perfect.

Like two parts of a puzzle that have been tried everywhere else and finally found the right place, and they fit perfectly. Your eyes are closed, and I don't think I want them to open. Your lips are burning into mine, they always do, and I always wonder how we don't kill each other doing this. But then it doesn't matter how we do it, so long as we do.

I'm not sure what reaction we would get if one of the others were to come into the kitchen, and see us here, bodies wrapped , suqeezing the life out of us, grasping each other feverishly, tongues intertwined as the area around us alternately freezes and melts. But that doesn't matter, because they never have done, and they never will, and they certainly aren't right at this moment and right now is all that matters, because I know that this is perfect.

You're not like Rogue, you're not smooth, soft curves and gentle bumps, you're hard and angular and that's what I want, because I don't want to be reminded of Rogue right now. I never do. Because that would just ruin a perfect moment.

I think we even each other out.

You will sneer at me, you will scorn me. And I will bear it, and you will bear my taunts and cold glares that you hate so much, because that's what we have to do. After all, we can't be perfect all the time. When we are, then everything blends into one warm ball of indifference that I can stand. When we're not, I will try and freeze your eyes because I can't stand the looks that you give me. You will stare at me as though I'm something that disgusts you, no matter how many others will be looking at you with distrust and fear and so many other things that you can't describe, simply because you won't want to.

People will try and come between us, but ultimately there is nothing that can force us apart, whether we are perfect or not. Because we will always find a way to bash heads, as much as everyone may try to keep us apart, for whatever reason. I will never be your friend again, nobody ever will, not after you did, but so long as we can make something perfect once in a while then I won't mind so much.

Because neither before nor after really matter.

Hmmm... well, it challenged me. Writing in future tense always does.

Comments very welcome and much appreciated.

smokey