Cold as Ice by Eve-the-Charlotte
Pairings: Implied pairings are implied.
Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men: Evolution.
My twentieth Witchblood series fanfiction! Wahoo! My 51st story of ! Double wahoo! And it's with Bobby, too (cue crazy stalker grin)! Also, lame title is lame. Anyways, read and enjoy!
Lance Alvers opened the door, beer in one hand, cigarette in mouth, which dropped to the floor along with his proverbial jaw when he saw who it was. Fortunately, other than the cigarette, the kid standing on the doorstep of the Brotherhood Boarding House had know clue that Avalanche was in any way, shape, or form shocked by him. It wasn't all that unusual for random persons popping up at the house at two in the morning, asking for a place to stay, but they also weren't normally X-Geeks-in-Training named Iceman either. This was Lance's excuse for the mild heart attack he suffered when he spotted the two duffel bags laying at the brunette's feet.
"Uh, hey," cue awkward conversation with the ice guy as to inquire why the hell the kid was here and how long he planned on staying, "whatchoo doing here?"
"Um," cue awkward response to Lance's question, complete with toe digging into the welcome mat, sheepish look, and lack of eye-to-eye contact, "can I stay a few days with you guys? 'Til I find a cheap hotel or something so I can go there."
"Sure," Lance replied. Most would find this response strange, considering this was the Brotherhood of "Evil" Mutants headquarters, and Lance was sorta the leader, but it was below freezing at two in the morning in February. The cold was getting into the house, the kid looked kind of pathetic standing out in the cold, and he had a conscience to please and a hot body in his bed to go to. To save himself some trouble, Lance opened the door wider and moved out of the way of the entrance. The ice kid shyly smiled at Lance as he walked inside, duffel bags in hand. Avalanche was beginning to wonder what possessed the kid to think to come over to the boarding house.
"Ya can sleep on the couch; the rooms are taken," Lance spoke to Iceman, jerking a thumb toward the lumpy excuse of furniture. For once, Avalanche was not lying; Wanda would kill the ice kid the moment he walked into hers and Pyro's room. Lance wasn't cruel enough to send him to Fred or Todd's rooms; the kid would die from the smells emitting like radiation from those areas. Pietro, being the neatness-obsessed closet OCD person that he was, would freak if he had to share a room; the guy could barely let the hick he was heads over heels over sleep in there with him. Asking Speedy Gonzales to share with Iceman would be pointless and just result in loud arguing that would wake up Wanda, Pyro, and Mystique, none of which were to be taken lightly when abruptly jolted from their precious sleep. Mystique would kill him, the kid, and probably everyone else if the kid went near her room. So, the kid (Lance had to find out his name) was to be assigned to the Couch of Doom with the Weird Stains on It that Lance Really did not want to Know Where From.
The ice kid didn't complain, apparently expecting no better. Lance went to the linen closet (they did have one, not that anyone but him and Pietro realized it) to grab some sheets or something for the ice guy. Avalanche assumed that the name "Iceman" didn't necessarily grant him immunity from the cold. After finding a thick, reasonably clean blanket (no payment on water bill equals no water for washing machine, a formula some of the residents had yet to figure out), Lance moseyed his way back to the couch. He stopped briefly when he noticed the kid already asleep, curled up in a ball and not-really-snoring-but-more-of-whistling. Lance sighed and threw the blanket over the kid. As the kid snuggled in the blanket, mumbling something like "Henry" under his breath, Avalanche felt a soft smile tug at his lips.
Lance yawned, suddenly feeling the weight of the hour and trudged up the stairs. He turned a right and stopped at the first door on the right. He slipped into his room quietly and lay down on his bed. A soft, thin arm wrapped around his broad shoulders, and another squirmed its way between the mattress and his body before securing itself around his hips. Silky ruby red (dyed) hair found its way near Lance's mouth and nose, as the girl tried to bury herself into his chest. He smiled softly as he slowly but surely maneuvered the lady into his arms. The girl awoke slightly, mind still fogged with sleep, and whispered, "Love ya, Lance."
"Love ya, too, babe," Avalanche whispered, going to sleep before the inevitable shrieking that would come later robbed him of too much sleep.
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