Disclaimer: "Where is your boy tonight? I hope he is a gentleman Maybe he won't find out what I know You were the last good thing about this part of town"

(An: READ THIS. For once, I've actually got important info up here. None of these drabbles are in anyway connected- they all present a little different spin on Jonda, inspired by the lyrics of Fall Out Boy (if you couldn't guess from the title and disclaimer). They're not quite songfics; the words that gave me the ideas are just the paragraph breaks, 'cause they look spiffy. In this first one, Wanda hasn't lost her memories or regained them or whatever you want to think. The song is "Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner".)

Keep quiet Nothing comes as easy as you Can I lay in your bed all day? I'll be your best-kept secret And your biggest mistake

He looks at me, and I stare back, smiling. His smile answers mine, and the unsettling moment that passed between us is forgotten.

He was studying Remy's motorcycle ("borrowed" so he could visit me), and I knew the thoughts in his head- knew them because they were in my own. I knew what he wanted. Get on the bike with me behind him and drive and drive and drive until all of this- the secrets, the silences, the reasons for the words unspoken- were behind us, and the only thing ahead of us was a future together.

Here, the reason was unavoidable; it sat between us, always, looking at me as mildly as I was looking at him. It could be summed up in one name I could never say aloud, because that would mean that yes, the reason the boy sitting beside me and I couldn't drive away was partly my fault, was related to me.

He seems to sense my distress, as he always does, and covers my hand with his own. It's the most affectionate gesture he can show outside of my room. Out here, in the open, the possibility of being seen together is always there, sitting next to that unspoken name. If my brother saw us…

But I don't want to think of that. I never do. I just want to breathe in the now, the here, his faint scent of cinnamon and ash and lighter fluid. It sounds unpleasant, but to me, it's the best thing in the world. It's the only thing that makes me feel safe.

Now my eyes go to the motorcycle, imagining what it would be like to get on behind him, wrap my arms around his waist, and close my eyes, just let him take me wherever he wanted. Yeah, Remy would be pissed, but I barely know him, and pissing off Remy amuses my boy.

He smiles and squeezes my fingers, silently telling me not to mourn for something that never will be.

The hand behind this pen relives a failure every day

She moves closer to me, resting her chin on my shoulder so she can look me full in the face. "Are we crazy?"

"Nah. Mildly deranged." We've exchanged that a lot, and I always know it means she's thinking about us- whatever us is. From what I've seen, us is hasty kisses in rooms with the lights dimmed so no one will see if they come in, longer kisses goodnight at the Acolyte's not-so-secret base beneath stars that don't provide enough light for us to be seen, and tiny, smothered gestures of affection in public places when what we really want is far too risky.

Remy and Piotr know, but that's because they can be trusted. I think Rogue knows, too, maybe Lance. My girl talks to them, and I know that I could trust the other Acolytes with my life- I am, by telling them about me and her.

She sighs, hiding her face.

I touch her cheek. "Hey, luv, don't get like that on me. We've got right now, don't we?"

"So you say," she replies, but she knows it's empty, and I can feel her smiling into my shoulder.

"C'mon, let's go inside. It's getting cold." I say this mostly because I know she's feeling guilty and I can't hold her in the open.

She doesn't protest, and we creep to her room, careful not to disturb the rest of her housemates. We lay together in the darkness, holding each other tight tight, because we both fear the other will disappear if we're not careful.

She's crying, now, but quietly, because she thinks I've fallen asleep. I know why, and it makes my eyes water as well. I bury my face in her hair, closing my eyes against the sadness. We do have right now. What she wants- a world where we fall asleep like this every night, just me and her, no third party of unspoken words and feelings and threats- will never be, and both of us know that.

I keep my jealousy close And it's all mine And if you say this makes you happy Then I'm not the only one lying

He's asleep- I know he is for sure, and not just pretending so he can watch me drift off like he usually does. I've seen him sleep without me, and it's hardly the way he's doing it now. Now he sleeps loosely, one arm draped over me and the other tucked beneath his chin, his eyelids flickering as he dreams. The one night he crashed on the couch, he slept tense- legs pulled in, hands fisted, eyes shut tightly, as though he feared the darkness around him.

I like seeing him relaxed. I don't know why we work, I really don't- we're both fire, really, and you'd think that'd make more fire and make us hate each other. But it doesn't. Somehow, it balances out, and we calm each other. If only I could tell that to someone else… I've never dared, though. Rogue suspects, but I've never confirmed (or denied) the… relationship I have with him.

I move in closer to whisper in his ear. "I miss you while you're away," I murmur. He doesn't stir; he's a heavy sleeper. I'm surprised he doesn't snore to wake the dead. "I miss you every second. I miss you and I need you and I love you, John." This is the only time I can say it to him, the only time I can bring myself to say those things that are a constant mantra in my head aloud. I do say it every night, though. It makes him smile in his sleep, although he never remembers the next morning. I know he doesn't, or he'd grab me and to hell with the consequences because I really did love him, and that was the only thing that ever mattered to him.

He knows I love him, but to him it was the saying that was important. If I could dredge up the courage to say it, then he could muster up the strength to forget his past and take me away from my life.

But never-will-bes are too painful to dwell on.

(This will update whenever the mood strikes me... I -am- working on my other stuff, I promise. Review, please?)