Hiya, everyone! Singles Awareness Day is looming down upon us and in honor of the occassion:

PS: I would absolutely LOVE IT if someone could try and draw my characters - so if you do try it and upload it PUH-LEASE send me a link so I can see it.

Now, without further ado:

Chapter 33

Vincent awoke on Valentine's Day to the smell of chocolate chip pancakes. Due to the fact that the lovers' day had fallen on a Sunday, he did not have to rush to pull his butt out of bed, just stick it out very slowly and lazily.

When he finally did make it downstairs at around noon, he found a small pile of heart shaped pancakes waiting for him in the kitchen. Well, not just for him – he could also see Kelsey come staggering in with her blond hair a nest on her head.

The rest of the students were off either enjoying the snow or hanging around making sweet eyes at their significant other. Vincent just wanted to go back to sleep.

But he couldn't. For the past four days he had been drawing the same figure with her chest outthrust and her arms thrown back – but her head missing. He knew this was what he wanted, but he wasn't sure in which direction to take it.

Now fully clothed, he settled down into a secluded corner of the entrance hall (suspiciously empty) and began his sketches again. It wasn't that he wasn't drawing this correctly – he knew he was… but he also knew there was something missing. Besides her head – was that it?

So he tried sketching the right kind of face for a winged goddess. His mother's face didn't fit – too sharp and predatorlike. He went through the other girls in the Institute, putting their heads and faces on lean winged bodies but nothing fit. Even Monica Worthington, whose brother had huge powerful golden wings, didn't make much of a flying goddess. Even little Sayuri with her black wings was too young and small. Miss Ororo fit more with his idea but there was something flat about her… not enough joy and wildness in that dignified beautiful face.

Somewhere between his seventh and tenth failure, he dozed off…

His feet were in agony as he followed the girl down a street to a traditional French Quarter style house. She opened the iron gate for him and beckoned with a skinny arm. "Don' be afraid, mon ami. Dis where da fun starts."

Wait, he thought in confusion even as his feet carried him forward. Dis neveh happened!

It was like passing into another world – one second he was in the sunny streets of New Orleans as a kid and the next a teenaged himself was marching down a broad cobble stone road leading hundreds of soldiers. All of whom looked very familiar. There was Alexei and the Thief boy on his left, Charles, James and Jayden on his right and they were all holding up great white flags with different colored animals embroidered on them. Charles' had a black bird, James' had a golden woman, Jayden a slender silver hunting cat, the Thief boy's a red shield and Alexei's a blue flower. He glanced up to look up at the banner he was holding and stared at a bronze colored hunting bird.

The road they were marching along was lined with cheering crowds who were throwing flowers and bits of light, brightly colored cloth into the air as they passed. Crowds were hanging out of the windows waving and children were running ahead of them laughing and even dancing in the street.

Vincent grinned and lifted his banner higher.

This alerted him to a strange weight on his arms; further examination showed that he was dressed in a strange suit of armor with the hunting bird crest on his chest and the others around him were also dressed in similar outfits, though with the different symbols on their chests.

They marched through the streets to a great white marble palace that looked something like the Greek Parthenon. It sat on a huge hill and was connected to the rest of the city by a steep set of stairs. Standing by the steps in black armor was none other than Wolverine. Vincent wanted to ask him what was going on but he couldn't speak and Wolverine didn't look in the mood for idle chitchat.

"Have you completed your tasks?" the short man demanded.

"Yes," he said immediately. He spoke in complete unison with the others bearing banners; it was kind of creepy.

"Have you come to swear yourselves to your goddesses?"

"Yes." Again with the unison.

"Then approach." With that, Wolverine turned his back on them and began to march up the steps.

Vincent started up the steps, still carrying his banner, and in no time at all reached the summit of the hill where they stood at the base of the three steps that led into the pillars of the palace. Waiting for them were three of the most beautiful women he had ever seen.

The one in the middle was a tall redhead with the biggest emerald green eyes he had ever seen. She had a figure to die for and looked like something that any artist would die to portray and then despair because their works never came out right. The one on the left he recognized immediately as Miss Ororo – this must have been what she looked like when the people had worshipped her and treated her as a goddess. Then on the right was a tall woman who was a dead ringer for the youngest Thief girl, right down to her fair skin and the white stripe through her dark reddish-auburn hair.

Each of them was dressed in robes – the redhead in gold, Miss Ororo in deep blue, and the Thief girl look-a-like in forest green – complimented with gold and silver jewelry and gems.

"Are these the champions?" the redhead intoned.

"Yes," Wolverine said, bowing his head.

Miss Ororo waved a hand. "Champions, enter with me."

The white-striped woman looked into the darkness of the temple before them. "Now's the tahme y'all swear yourselves to the maidens."

Okay, this was getting really weird. He tried to say something again – tell them there was some mistake and he had no intention of swearing himself to anyone – but his tongue seemed to be glued to the roof of his mouth and he walked forward to follow Miss Ororo.

The inside of the palace was cool after the bright sun of outside and seemed so shady as to be otherworldly. The first room she led them into was enormous and boasted the biggest fountain he had ever seen in the center of the room. The creation stood roughly thirty feet tall with six neat pedestals set just at his eyelevel as water jetted out of every conceivable opening.

It took a moment for him to realize that the statues on each pedestal were actually six young women, all of varying shapes and sizes.

He and the others marched around the fountain and each came to a halt in front of a different pedestal and looked up expectantly.

And saw the young woman the little girl had grown into. She strode off her pedestal and flared her wings to glide down to him. Her long thick hair fell down her back in one solid wave of reddish-brownish-golden copper. Her robe was so white it gleamed in the soft grey shadows and floated around her like seafoam. Slender arms spread out gracefully as she landed smoothly.

It was…

Crash

His eyes snapped open to see a solid chunk of stone flying through the air and crashing into the entrance hall, about thirty feet away from him.

Vincent stood as the rock moved and straightened itself up, revealing itself to be a strange grey-ish version of the Thing from the Fantastic Four. It didn't take much to recognize this creature: Denzel "Stone" Hawkins with the ability to turn his body into organic stone.

"Well what the hell were you expecting?!" he howled. "That I was just gonna wait until you were ready?! Guess what, babe, that's not the way the world works. When a guy needs some action he ain't just gonna wait around for his girl to be in the mood!"

Completely baffled by all the yelling, Vincent whipped his head up toward the stairs and gaped as the Thief girl leapt from the top of the stairs and floated gracefully down. His mind immediately went to the beautiful young woman he had dreamed of.

The Thief's face was a study of cold anger and her eyes were the same vicious emerald-silver he had seen when he had tried to kill her. She looked like a Lady Assassin.

His gut clenched and he belatedly realized that half the Institute was standing around them, including several of the teachers.

"Den we got not'in' mo' ta discuss," the Thief girl said calmly. "Now get yo' ass out o' heah."

"I don't gotta go nowhere. This is my house too!"

"Dat was not a request." Faster than an F-22 jet she darted forwards, grabbed the guy, shot twenty feet into the air and faced her boyfriend (or was it ex-boyfriend?). "Fo' da record, Denzel. Ah dumped you."

And she hurled him through the front doors.

The entire hallway was deathly quiet as the young woman slowly settled down onto the ground, her face blank. She turned around and walked to the stairs, went up them, and disappeared.

Noelle lay on her bed, her cell phone vibrating on her desk. It was her mother – Rogue had called eight times and Remy five. Tante was leaving her alone – something she very much appreciated.

She hurt. Really and truly hurt. It was as though her heart was seizing in her chest.

It wasn't that she had really loved Denzel. She had liked him just fine and had been happy to call him her boyfriend. The making out had been very enjoyable – God knew she hadn't done that in a while – and she had liked talking to someone about nothing and everything – and yet nothing important.

Her brother and sister, not to mention most of the staff, had approached her already. Luke, Claire, Logan, Laura, and Ororo had done nothing more than sit on her bed and stay silently for a while. They hadn't tried to talk which she was very happy for. Professor X's visit had been very short and quiet, coming in to tell her that Denzel was not hurt – was she supposed to be happy about this? – and that he was very sorry. Jubilee and several of the other girls had burst in with sobs, sympathy, and curses against all cheating males, offering to do everything from shun the bastard to castrate him.

Then there had been Scott and Charles Summers. They had burst into her room, snarling words like 'reckless' and 'stupid' and 'complete lack of control over yourself'. To which she had responded that she thought she was showing the greatest control in that she had not tossed them bodily from her room.

Her kids had already been in, offering hardy snowdrops and a few early daffodils, under the careful supervision of Storm and Monica. They didn't quite understand what was going on but they were a comfort all the same.

To be honest, she didn't understand what was going on. At the basic level she knew what had happened: her boyfriend Denzel Hawkins, when she had made it clear that she wasn't going to have sex with him, had slept with a cheerleader from Bayville High, but beyond that she couldn't understand…

Noelle went over it in her head.

She had been waiting for Denzel in his room, sitting on his bed. They hadn't parted on the best of circumstances when he had left for his interviews with Storm and he had looked surprised to see her. She had asked him if anything had happened – if there was something that he wanted to tell her. He had said no and asked if she felt ready to try and continue their relationship. There hadn't even been a flicker of guilt anywhere in his psyche and at that she had exploded. She had shoved Sofya's story in his face and watched grimly as anger and not one drop of shame bled into him. His only defense was that she should have known what she was getting into when she had asked him out. But she had not asked him out, she had pointed out angrily. He had asked her out.

A sharp agony of a headache cut through her mental replay and she had to stop and bury her hands in her auburn hair to keep her brain from leaking out of her ears. She could feel her own emotions raging under her skin. She closed her eyes and sorted through them and allowed them to sweep over her thoughts…

Just let it all go…

Something that felt like a rusty nail of dark fury and hatred stabbed into her head. That didn't belong to her – this was Denzel's. Then a matching snarling of anger from Logan, joined by concern and vicious indignation and a desire to rip limbs off from her brother crept into her consciousness to combat the malicious emotions, soothing her nerves.

In the end, Noelle took several aspirin, found her favorite hideaway in the garage and nestled in among the tools, motorcycles and hotrods, allowing the smell of motor oil and slick metal to lull her to sleep.

Vincent had never known dinner at the Xavier Institute to be so hostile. It seemed that everyone at the table was either openly shunning Denzel or trying to act as though they hadn't chosen sides. The Thief girl was sitting between her brother (who was stabbing his jambalaya as though it had done him a personal injury as he glared at Denzel) and Alexei (who looked about ready to crush a certain guy's skull) eating her food calmly.

"Pass the soda," Denzel said sulkily.

No one moved.

Finally, Charles Summers nudged the bottle half-heartedly to him and Denzel ended up having to stand up and reach for it.

"Now everyone," Professor X said, trying to sound reproving and failing. "I know you are all less than pleased with what happened earlier today, but we must remember that there are two sides to every story-"

"There ain't nothing to talk about!" Denzel snarled abruptly, standing up so fast that he knocked his chair over. "The bitch is just pissed-"

The Thief boy was on his feet and it was obvious that his sister's hand on his arm was the only thing holding him back from diving across the table and attacking.

"Y' betteh watch what y' be sayin' 'bout Noelle, y' piece o' shit."

And then Denzel, in an action of utmost stupidity took a swing at a furious fully guild trained Master Thief. "You and your whore of a sister-"

Everyone jumped up as the Thief filled the idiot's mouth with his fist, knocking him over completely and leaping over the table after him.

Looking around, Vincent was surprised to see the Thief girl with her head in her hands – wasn't this about the time when she was getting up to pry her brother off whoever he was attacking? There was no question of her being able to get him, she was able to fly for God's sake! She should be able to get to one person.

But she didn't move. Her kids were crying, frightened by the fighting and yelling, and she was doing nothing. Just rubbing her temples and breathing very hard.

The teachers were trying to return order and were failing magnificently. Professor X was not looking at the fighting; he seemed more concerned with the Thief girl.

Chaos had erupted in the dining room and it was just getting worse. Vincent had never seen anything like this, not even when the Assassins and Thieves had openly brawled in the streets.

Screaming.

Crying.

Yelling.

Thudding fists.

Powers flaring wildly.

Then something happened that he couldn't describe. The closest thing he could compare it to was drowning; one second he was staring at the Thief girl and the next he was flat on his back along with James, Monica and everyone else in the Institute – even Logan and the Professor had gone completely boneless – trying to catch his breath. Sheer terror and rage beyond anything he had ever felt before was tearing through his heart, closely followed by a ball of horrible aching sadness and hurt.

His fingers seized and tears flowed from his eyes. He could hear others around him crying and gasping. He hyperventilated and sobbed for breath, feeling as helpless as he had felt the day he had fallen into the canal or the day he had gone to see the little girl again.

What was the point of going on? He wondered, feeling his heart thunder in his chest. If he felt like this, what was the point of anything anymore?

And suddenly it was over. A familiar feeling of comforting warmth spread through his chest and he could suddenly breathe again.

When he was finally able to sit up, the Thief girl was gone.

Noelle stumbled out of the dining room and ran barefooted through the halls and rooms to a door leading outside. She needed to get out. She needed to fly.

It had been years since she had lost control of her empathy and lashed out. There was a reason so few – actually none – of the powerful empaths lasted till adulthood. Everyone's emotions had been slamming at her mind, making it hard to remember which anger had been hers. It had taken her minutes to remember who she was and what she was angry about.

Throwing open the door, she leapt from the ground and climbed up into the air. The wind was ice cold on her skin and cut viciously through her thin tank top and jeans. But it also whipped every hint of thought and emotion except for calm, wild joy from her mind.

She spread her arms out to embrace the sky. Her lungs burned from the cold air but she didn't care. She climbed into the freezing open heavens. Her eyes streamed and she could feel the tears hardening into ice on her cheeks. The hair once bound into a braid had come loose and was sliding over her bare shoulders.

The Institute was now the size of a cobblestone.

Expertly maneuvering her body, Noelle dove and twisted through the air, feeling like a caged bird that has just been released. It was better than any bed rest Dr. McCoy could have prescribed. She had been away from the sky for too long.

Her heart may have belonged to New Orleans but her soul belonged to the sky.

By the time she was ready to go back, she was completely numb and couldn't remember what had been so important about an idiot horndog cheating on her.

"Merci beaucoup, Dame Ciel," she said, vaguely aware that her lips were bleeding. "Ah be back soon."

He stared at the creature coming towards them. It looked like an angel, but there was strength and a strange sort of fragility that he had never seen in any statue or painting.

Her hair was an absolute mess, there were little rivulets of ice trails on her cheeks, her lips were bleeding, her lips, fingers, and bare feet were a worrying shade of blue. She landed on the icy stones and looked at them.

"Bonjour, y'all."

"Merde, Noelle!" the Thief boy ripped off his leather jacket and placed it around the slender shoulders. "Y' turnin' blue."

"Les étoiles, Lucien," she whispered, gripping his arm. "Elles ont chantaient."

Vincent just watched shocked, trying to reconcile this strange beautiful creature with the clever, fierce Thief. She held up her chin up in the same way and looked around at those gathered around her (her brother, Logan, James, Sofya, Julia, Alexei, Sarah, Laura, Bishop, and himself) with an expression of amused interest. The grey-green eyes had turned that strange color of emerald-silver that they only became when she was extremely angry. But she didn't look upset, if anything she looked as though she had just come from touching the farthest and most beautiful stars.

She wasn't shaking too badly and the brightness of her face and eyes put the Prince in mind of someone that has just come from a meeting with God after finding that the Almighty is really just a friendly, loving entity that wants nothing more than good company.

She also didn't seem to want to watch where she was going, choosing instead to stare up at the dark blue sky pricked by brilliant, glittering stars. The gleaming pinpricks were reflected in her great eyes.

Vincent couldn't stop staring, not even when she noticed that he was looking at her and turned to stare back. He could see the stars in her eyes, tiny white diamonds in an emerald-silver sky…

She smiled at him – a wild and joyful smile that suddenly made him rather envious of what she had seen and the fact that she could see it again if she so chose – and a thought accompanied with a vivid picture flashed through his mind and rendered him completely still.

"Vinny? Mate?" James asked. "You alright, there?"

He blinked and shook himself. Everyone else had already gone inside. "Ouais, I'm alrahght."

It took him less than five minutes to get to his and James' room, shuck his clothes and throw himself down on the bed with his sketchbook.

He had his inspiration. He had his goddess.

It truly did suck that he had to kill her – she was very beautiful.

And Vincent knows what he's gonna do - don't worry if you don't completely hate Denzel now, you will soon. I can promise you that.

Merci beaucoup, Dame Ciel – "Thank you so much, Lady Sky"

Les étoiles… Elles ont chantaient – "the stars…they were singing"