Bobby was beginning to become a bit of a problem. He'd flat out level me with glares if he saw me, which honestly made me want to crawl under a table. I mean, c'mon. I know he don't like Otto and he really don't want Pyro here and I guess he doesn't like me either but did he really have to pout about it? Pyro and him weren't getting physical since the first day, but there had been a few close calls. Rogue had let me know Otto was so lucky; Bobby had been giving him a really hard time in training. So much so that at one point it broke out into a full on fight between the two, Bobby had gone all ice and my brother had broken his hand hitting Bobby before Gambit could break it up.

When I asked Rogue why Bobby was acting this way, she told me it was mostly because of Pyro. That after Pyro left for the Brotherhood the two's relationship had gone down hill. I asked PYro about it, hoping maybe he could settle things down a little; I got a colorful remark about what Bobby was and what he could go do with himself. I decided to leave it alone. I didn't even try to ask Otto if he could talk it out with Bobby, he had a broken hand to remind him of why he didn't like the jerk.

So I was sitting in Pyro's room thinking over what I should do to kind of patch things up so they were tolerable with Bobby. I was sitting cross legged on his bed across from him, struggling to paint my nails. He was leaning back against his headboard, watching me and flicking his Zippo.

"You know this stuff is flammable." I murmured, concentrating on keeping my painting neat.

"Why are you doing it anyway?" He kept staring at my fingers, still flipping the lighter open and closed.

"Because." I couldn't improve the way anything else about me looked just then. I'd been going without make-up and wearing mostly sweats because they were easier to get on and off.

"It stinks."

I didn't say anything as I switch hands. If I was careful not to move my arm I could paint without bothering my injured shoulder.

Maybe I could just talk to Bobby. Maybe get him to knock it off. Would he even listen to me? I doubted it. He wasn't as openly threatening to me as he was to them, but he'd made it clear we weren't friends. I heaved a sigh. This just didn't look promising. Maybe I could go to the Professor? But there was no way he didn't already know; he was just probably worried about other things. There were plenty of other things to worry about.

Did Bobby think this was really helpful with the mess we were all in?

My thoughts went from that to why he hated Pyro and Otto so much, then to how Otto was trying to see mutant and humans differently for my sake. My mind went leaping from one thing to the next and it didn't take long to wonder if Pyro still felt the same as he had.

"Hey, John?"

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him look up to my face.

"Are you…" I paused to study my handy job, before continuing. "Do you still hate regular people?"

The clicking and snapping stopped.

"Yes."

"All of them?"

"Yes."

He starting flipping and closing the lighter again.

I closed the pink nail polish. "You like me." I finally looked up at him.

Pyro's grin was slow and suggestive. I think he was just trying to distract me with it. Wasn't going to work.

"If you can like me, you could like more." He had to realize we weren't all bad.

"No."

"Why?" I wanted more than a quick yes or no.

"Because." No explanation.

"John." I sighed. "That's not an answer."

"So."

"You wouldn't even try?"

"Why would I?" He looked at me like I'd just suggested something crazy.

"Because." I thought for a second. "Because I did it. You can too."

Pyro sat up fast, a leg bent at the knee the other hanging off the bed. "You aren't a mutant."

"I know. I-"

"No. You don't know." He said sharply.

I paused, a little surprised by the look on his face, but still managed to hold his gaze. "You won't even consider it? I mean I'm not asking you to be friends with everyone. I'm just thinking maybe a little more tolerant."

He rolled his eyes, and that snapping and clicking started again. "Don't preach tolerance to me."

"I'm not preaching. But I think you aren't being very fair."

"Fair?" He scoffed. "I did try. Once. I'm not doing it again."

"What happen?"

"Nothing." The answer was quick, automatic.

"Yea right."

He glared and rested his elbow on his bent knee.

"I know I don't have to remind you that I've had some bad experiences with mutants." I raised my eyebrows at him, waving my hands to dry my nails quicker. The polish was that sixty second fast drying stuff, but I wanted to be sure it was completely dry before I touched anything. "Matter of fact you gave me a couple of those bad experiences."

Oh boy if looks could kill, I'd dead as a door nail. "You're going to throw that in my face?"

"No, but stop acting like the whole population of normal people did you wrong."

"Get out."

"No." I stopped waving my hands around, and dropped them into my lap.

"Yes."

"You want me out you'll have to carry me, and if you try to do that you'll hurt me and I swear I'll scream so dang loud the whole school will hear me. I promise kicking me out isn't worth the trouble."

I could see him weighing the pros and cons of that.

"Look. I don't like fighting with you." I changed tactics, dropping my argumentative attitude would help. "I'm just saying that I haven't always had good experiences with mutants, but that hasn't made me hate them."

Pyro looked up at me. "After I became a mutant, they were all bad experiences with humans. None of your kind showed me any tolerance." His eyes bright and angry.

I let that sink in. "What happened?" How bad was it?

He smirked, sarcastically. "We aren't doing this." He leaned back against his headboard, and shut down.

I checked my nail polish making it sure it was dry, biting my tongue. I wasn't going to push it, I wanted to know but I didn't want to drive him away. He was already mad, and anything more about that would just make it worse.

"So I guess then, the only question I guess I have left is then why me?"

He frowned a little.

"I mean you keep saying that, but…" I shrugged. "It doesn't make sense." I mean I wasn't special. I was normal as it could get.

"Do we have to do this?" He sounded like he'd had enough.

"Yes. Yes, yes."

"Why?" He snapped.

"Because."

"Because isn't answer." He said mockingly.

Ugh. "You don't give me anything. You tell me nothing. You don't let me in; I'm always left wondering what's going on in your head. You might think your being cool, but really John, it's just frustrating." I ranted at him.

He had stat back up, one leg on the floor still and the other bent at the knee.

"I'm not asking for commitment. Or an I love you. Or you're first born. I just want a damn answer. Is that really that difficult?" Give me something real here.

"I don't know okay?" He ran his hand through his hair.

"Try John." I pushed, because nothing about this made sense. Here was this mutant terrorist that hated normal people, but who went out of his way not to hurt me when he touched me while I was all banged up. He didn't add up.

He shook his head and looked up at the ceiling. "You're this girly girl, and you're such an airhead sometimes and you've got this accent that makes me want to laugh sometimes."

Did he just tell me he thought I talked funny? He does not want to go there.

"You aren't my type." He glanced up at me and added, "I used to laugh at girls like you."

Why, oh why, had I opened my mouth and asked for an explanation? My face heated up with embarrassment, wondering what his point was.

"But you're probably the first human who hasn't acted like I was anything but a person, even after, you know, the kidnapping thing." He paused, then shrugged. "And I think you're hot."

I ignored the last comment and focused on what he'd said before the last part.

"What do you mean I'm the only human that's treated you like a person?" I frowned, concerned.

"Forget it." He said quickly, and by the look on his face he was uncomfortable. He started flicking the lighter in his hand, letting a flame dance up before killing it.

I know part of that was his fault, because he was so threatening acting toward regular people, but still, I knew it couldn't have all been him. I was betting when he first discovered his powers or not long after is when his hatred for normal people was born. And I somehow doubted that was not his fault, at least not all of it.

"Do you not have any family that is okay with you being a mutant?"

"Drop it Bell." He was staring at me and I don't think he realized that the lighter's flame grew about three sizes.

I dropped my eyes down to it and he finally noticed it.

"I'm sorry." I said, deciding to back off. I wasn't afraid of him hurting me, but there was no need to make him want to.

I watched as the flames formed a ball in the hand that wasn't holding a Zippo, then as he twirled it around in the air.

"Do you really want me to go?" I asked.

The flames swirled around for a second before disappearing. Then Pyro looked at me as he let his hand drop, and he finial shook his head no.

I scooted forward and hugged him. At first he was stiff and didn't return it, but after a moment he relaxed and wrapped an arm around me.

I couldn't help but to think about how messed up we were. There was just nothing we had in common, how crazy was I that I was holding a mutant terrorist or that I wasn't even the least bit intimidated by him?

"Wait, you think I talk funny?" I lifted my head off his shoulder and frowned at him.

He smirked at me. "Especially when you're mad."

"You must like it then, because you do your best to make me mad any chance you get." I dropped my head back down to his shoulder.

Pyro flipped open his Zippo and brought out another flame to play with.

"Don't catch me hair on fire." I warned him.

"I know what I'm doing." He muttered.

I eased over a little more to lean into his side and not his chest, putting distance between me and the fire.

"I thought I didn't scare you." He sounded amused.

"You don't. Your fire worries me." I corrected him.

He seemed to think that was funny and the flames grew.

"Stop being a jerk." I inched back more.

"Don't be a baby."

"I'm not." I defended myself. "I just don't want all my hair to burn off before you can get it put out. Being bald would complete this horror film reject look I've got going on." I was referring to my busted up face.

He laughed, and the flames shrunk down into a more reasonable size. I didn't protest as he pulled me closer, careful not to jostle me too much. I swear he could get me mad and frustrated as all get out, or kiss me until I couldn't think straight, but the way he was so gentle when he touched me, making sure he didn't unintentionally hurt me was what really got me. I don't think he even realized how sweet it was, and even though I wasn't going to say anything, because knowing him it would probably embarrass him, I appreciated it.

I didn't even realize I'd drifted off until Pyro was telling me to scoot over for him and pulling a blanket up around us. Part of me knew I should get up and go to my own bed, I'd never slept in the same bed with a guy before (aside from my brother, but that doesn't even count) that this just didn't look good for me to be having a slumber party with Pyro and this was a school and what kind of example was I setting for the students? But the light was already off, and I was still mostly asleep, and he was warm and I was comfortable and all we were doing was sleeping. The most scandals things happening was his arm wrapped around my middle. Hell, there wasn't even a good night kiss.

I argued with myself over it until I'd fallen back asleep.

I woke up late the next morning, and only because Pyro was cursing about my cell phone's alarm going off, which was on the floor where it had obviously fallen.

"Oh no." I mumbled looking around and seeing Pyro's underutilized alarm clock. Only twenty minutes before the library opened, Ms. Monroe was bringing in a class first thing for a research project. Crap, crap, crap.

"Where are you going?" Pyro looked at me like I was crazy when I stumbled out of the bed.

I glanced back at him trying to gather my wits. "I've got to get to the library." I picked up my cell phone and shut off the alarm.

"Skip it. Have a sick day." He leaned back on his pillow looking at me, bed headed and sleepy eyed. It looked way to tempting to just crawl back in.

"Can't." I told him as I spotted one of my shoes half way under the bed.

"You sure?" He gave me that slow grin that made me want to give in to whatever he was suggesting.

"Very." I said with a forced assurance I didn't have.

He shrugged. "Suit yourself." Then he rolled over on his side. "Shut the door behind you."

I found my other shoe and headed for the door, but paused to look back at him. He was already back asleep and not looking anything like the intimidating bad boy he presented himself as.

I rushed through a shower and still barely made it on time to the library. Ms. Monroe's class kept me busy for most of the morning. After they were gone and I was putting up the books that had been left out, Rogue came for a visit.

"So where were you last night?" She didn't even try hiding a smile.

I rolled my eyes. "Not doing anything you are obviously thinking."

"Ha ha." She leaned back against the bookshelf. "But you were with Pyro right?"

"Yes." I reluctantly admitted.

"Mmmhmm."

"Oh shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

"Help me put these up." I shoved a couple of books at her. We reshelfed and I listened to her subtle teasing. I was shaking my head at it, trying not to laugh, when she turned serious.

"You know honestly?" She watched me put up the last book. "I think he really does like you. I mean more than just a looking to score kind of thing."

"Really?" I asked, feeling my eyebrows knit together.

"As crazy as it sounds." She nodded. "Yea."

"Thank you for telling me that. Otto keeps telling me the complete opposite and John just has a 'no comment' policy on the subject. So thanks. That just made me feel so much better." I hadn't realized how unsupported I'd felt until just then.

She shrugged. "Otto is your brother and he doesn't like John."

"Do you?" I asked.

She frowned in thought. "I don't know. We weren't really friends before he left, but we hung out a lot because of Bobby."

"He doesn't talk about ever being friends with Bobby. He doesn't talk about being friends with Otto either even though I'm pretty sure they were at one point."

Rogue brushed back her white bangs, ones that I was secretly envious of because they just looked so cool on her. "I feel bad for him."

"Who?" I frowned. "Otto or Pyro?"

"Both." She kind of smiled. "But I was talking about John."

I could guess why she would feel bad for them. They didn't fit in here at all, they had the Brotherhood after them and they were both pretty clueless about what to do about it. Not that I had any bright ideas myself.

Rogue and I had lunch together, after which I walked back to the library on my own. I should have been paying better attention, but I'd pulled out my cell phone to check the time, and just as I rounded a corner I collided with someone.

A steadying hand was placed on my forearm, and I grabbed a hold of whoever it was too.

"I'm so sorry." I said instantly. "I wasn't looking. I-" I lost my voice as I saw who I'd run into. Magneto.

A/N: Thanks for reading. Don't forget to tell me what you think!