Well, guess what. It's back after a long hiatus. ^_^ You have only yourselves to thank. After the majority of season two, I was pleased to NEVER write for Evo again, but guess what we have? ^_^ I'm not sure I like this part, but oh well. I can always take it down and edit it later. So, if you are so inclined, read on.

I also would like to note that my AIM has changed (again) from shinigal. It's renegadesidhe now. I like that one. fwee! Comments are always appreciated, either in email or in reviews.

Also, there's a slight bit of spoilers for Star Wars Episode two, and I am not including anything from the later episodes, like the Kitty-Lanceness or the fact that Wanda returned and so did Mystique. Missing Life
Part Four
Legals: Same as always. Not mine
Warnings: Mentions of a L/T romance, a little P/K, but the over all thing is L/P. Mwa ha ha.
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He sighed as he watched them lurch out of school, their footsteps like thunder. They all complained so much about how slow time passed, how long this class was stretched out. Why this class took forever. They'd all go insane if he lived like he did, pacing the hallways around their barely moving bodies.

Normally, he was home by now, stretched out on his bed and recovering from the splitting headache that normally came with the school day. Normally, he was so damn happy to be free... But now, he was a wreck, waiting for Lance to show, his mind racing over the reasons why Lance might not show.

Tabby might have coerced him into a ride home. She used her feminine wiles, flaunting her overly-endowed chest and wonderfully toned hips to get him into the jeep. Of course, Todd and Fred were walking home, and she used this. She was probably licking a lollipop in that disgusting way that girls did when they wanted to distract their boyfriends from the price tag of the dress that said girl was making them buy.

She could make Lance forget like that. It wasn't that hard to believe. Lance was a boy, after all, a nice, very straight boy that had a girlfriend. He shook his head, white bangs hitting him in the face as he did so.

He was going to prove Tabitha wrong. He was going to get Lance. The reaction that the older boy had to getting up from the couch had been a good sign. He could be swayed into at least a few, non-straight kisses. That would be enough to beat Tabitha. He could ignore the horrid way his stomach squeezed when he thought about deceiving Lance like that. He could do this.

"Pietro?" A hand lay on his shoulder, halting him from his pacing. The student body trickled around them, ignoring them. They were two islands lost in a fierce sea with only each other, or something like that. For a moment, it was easy to imagine this kind of thing in one of those Sailor Moon-shows, with the sparkling eyes, sexy half-smirks, and bubbles. Lots and lots of bubbles.

He forced his eyes from going down to Lance's tight jeans or the way his shirt revealed the smallest hint of muscles before shrugging Lance's hand away, "Hey. What took you so long?"

Crimson blossomed on his friend's cheeks, and for the first time, he noticed the slightest smudges of lipstick on his face, around his lips. It looked like she'd been unsuccessful in trying to bite his lips off, "Tabby wouldn't let me go without a fight."

His lips pursed, brows coming together, "Oh."

The other boy's eyes got very wide for a moment, realizing the mistake he'd made unconsciously, "I...she got mad because I wouldn't drive her home before I got you, even though I know she had a distraction waiting for me at home. She's a bit--"

"Predictable." He let a ghost of a smile cross his face before straightening up. "So what's on the menu for today? Massive guy oogling?"

And he tried hard not to laugh when Lance stumbled back, swallowing harshly, "Pietro! We're in school."

He moved closer to Lance, wrapping his arms around the boy and placing his head on his shoulder, "But you said you'd do what ever I wanted today..." The dove-haired boy grinned, doing his very best to look lovable.

The brunette's eyes looked ready to pop from his head as he stood there, stammering over words, "Um...uh...Pietro...maybe...um...y-you should let me go. Yes! Let me g-go, b-because...uh...yeah! Let me go!"

Pietro didn't answer for a moment, trying to imprint the sensations of Lance's body against his. The black T-shirt seemed a lot thinner this close, and Lance's cologne smelled very nice this close. His own cheeks were warming as he stood like that, hand reaching up to stroke Lance's slightly scraggly hair.

The other boy didn't move, didn't react. Pietro could feel the muscles in his arms twitching, his fingers moving. There were no words that could accurately describe the war that seemed to be inside Lance's body, and his evil smile broadened a little.

I'm going to win. But he stepped back from Lance, smiling ever so innocently, "Well, since you're against that idea, what about Star Wars?" He, personally, would rather see the cute Spiderman movie again, as he and Todd went to see Star Wars on Tuesday, but....

The other boy's face was still a little rosier than normal, his eyes looking around the hall at anything but Pietro. "Uh...Star Wars. Yeah, that sounds good. Yes."

Pietro turned, walking towards the door. Some times, these things were just too easy.
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It was really hard not to look at Pietro during the movie. He didn't understand why of all movies, Pietro wanted to see this one. It was okay, he supposed. It had somewhat okay dialogue, and the special effects were cool... But, well, aside from the fact that the Padme chick was in a lot of the scenes, he was losing interest in the beginning. Falling in love shots were so incredibly terrible.

The younger boy was staring at the screen with a thoughtful look on his face, chewing on his bottom lip in a way that seemed very endearing. He was trying so hard to sit still, to not make comments, to not eat through the entire Mega Bucket of Popcorn beside him or drink too much of his Diet Sprite. His foot was swaying back and forth. It would go to the left, and then he'd hold it there as if he was afraid that it might just start to swing it back and forth until his foot was a blur.

Pietro had changed so much in the time he'd known him. He'd gone from being an overly-loud, overly-confident Daddy's boy to...well...being cool. He was still annoying and confident too much, but the loudness had died down. He didn't make the huge deal about the fact that his was the only room with two windows. He had some paintings or something hanging over them. He didn't...smile as much.

The annoying guy that needed to have his stalk eyes ripped off his head began talking, interrupting Lance's 'What's wrong with Pietro' thoughts with thoughts of death and pain. It wasn't that he hated this guy, just... He served no purpose other than angering half the audience into riots. Star Wars geek riots were not that great. Many, many people could get hurt.

He rolled his head to the side, watching the people running back and forth. When Episode One? came out, he'd just moved in with his final foster home. That was part of the whole 'Show Lance the wonders of his new life!' activities, going to see that movie. This one, in comparison, wasn't that bad. And he was in much better company. No loud whispers of what was going to happen before it happened. That was annoying.

Pietro was quiet, and he was slowly becoming more and more engrossed in the film. There were disturbing moments when something akin to sadness would cross his pale face and always when nothing sad was happening. Lance looked up at the screen, at the little boy, that was really creepy, laughing about blowing things. The boy beside him bit his lip, eyes a bit shiny.

He leaned over, taking the soft, cool hand into his, "What's wrong?"

The boy shrugged, "Reminds me of myself." He played with one of his bangs for a moment, "You know, the almost clone of my father."

"You're nothing like your father." He smiled, squeezing Pietro's hand and going back to the movie, completely missing the content look on Pietro's face. Completely missing that his hand stayed with the younger boy's until the end of the movie before he pulled it away, his face very warm.
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"Did you see Yoda? He was awesome!" Pietro smiled, giddy, as they left the theatre. He liked Star Wars, and he's already seen the movie, but the events in the theatre made him very happy. He didn't really think any connection he has to Boba Fett was worth crying over, but the waterworks had been worth it. It was an act, but Lance couldn't know that. That would ruin the game. "And that arm thing was kind of....creepy. Didn't the other guy lose one too?"

The older boy wasn't paying attention, eyes transfixed on the road ahead, brow furrowed. He looked like he was trying not to concentrate too hard on anything but the road in front of him. It was a familiar look. Lance got it a lot when there was something bothering him. "Huh? I don't know."

Blue eyes turned out towards the window, watching Bayville speed past them in a rather dull blur. Again, the guilt over the game churned inside of him. He didn't want to seriously fuck with Lance as much as he wanted to fuck with Tabitha. He didn't want to make the guy doubt his sexuality or anything. He'd dealt with enough people that were like that. 'Whee! I'm gay!...no. I'm straight. No! Gay! No! ....Damnit, what's my name? I'm so confused!' and they'd take it out on him eventually.

"Hey, Pietro..." Lance broke him out of his thoughts for a moment, voice cautious.

"Yeah?"

There was a moment of silence before his friend kind of shrugged, "Feel like Gut Bomb on the way back? Maybe pick something up for Todd and Fred."

"And Tabby?" He folded his arms over his chest, raising a brow.

"She doesn't want to eat Gut Bomb right now. Might ruin her complexion for the dance."

Pietro snickered, "Like she has a huge problem with that. Of course, if she didn't wear so much make-up, she might not have to worry about--"

"Look, lay off Tabitha." It came out harsher than Pietro would have expected, the car swerving a little bit on the road. "Besides, look at what you have on your arm."

He blinked for a few moments, the statement going clear over his head. "I'm not going with--"

"Pryde. You know, little Jewish Princess that's too good for us. Super-obsessed with her image." He smirked a little, looking a little too sure of himself for Pietro's liking, "I wonder what she'd think if she knew she weighs a good ten pounds more than her new boy-toy."

Pink shadows were forming on the alabaster cheeks, "She is not my girlfriend. She asked me to the dance; I said yes. There is no other obligation from either party."

He pulled the car over to the side of the road, hanging his head for a moment, "Pietro. You have Kitty. I have Tabby. Lay off mine, and I'll lay off yours."

The delicate features were pinched with confusion, "Why do you want to believe so much that Kitty and I are a thing? I'm gay, Lance, remember. I like boys--"

"Then why aren't you taking Kitty to the dance?" Lance wasn't shouting, merely staring ahead. But he was annoyed. "Why not take a guy?"

Pietro growled a little, arms crossed over his chest, "Gee, I don't know. Maybe because I only went with Kitty to be nice? Maybe because there are no guys in Bayville that swing my way...Maybe because I wanted to have fun, for once. Maybe I'm tired of waiting for the guy that's straighter than a pole and about as dense as a rock to notice me."

Lance didn't seem to catch the look Pietro gave him on the last line, tapping his fingers off the steering wheel. "There have to be gay guys in Bayville. What about Summ--"

"Taken. Taryn."

"Blue fuzzy guy?"

"Some random chick in his math class."

"Paul?"

There was a moment before Pietro snickered, "He's trying to find himself. I'm not going after that."

Lance smirked a little, shoving his friend's shoulder, "Truce?"

"Truce." Pietro shoved him back, though his hand lingered for a moment, looking into the warm depths in front of him. A slight rosy hue creeped onto Lance's face again, and he smirked, shaking his head, "We should probably get home before Todd and Fred are driven to homicide by Tabby."

"Not that it would be a bad thing." Lance's eyes held onto Pietro's for a moment, then looked down at his hands, gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white, "Hey, Pietro...."

"Yeah?"

The other boy looked back at him, leaning over a little before he caught himself, "Uh...Gut Bomb?"

With a defeated sigh, Pietro slid down in his chair, "Whatever."
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This prolly isn't as good as the others because of life and the muse has taken a vacation. Grr on it. R/R if you feel so inclined.