Coffee for Two

Wherein love takes over the coffee shop, for better or for worse

Telltale Quote: You'd have something to apologize for if you hadn't kissed back.–Wanda Maximoff



"Way to freeze up in there, Crash. What were you doing, reading comic books or something?"

Sam froze in his tracks at the sound of the low, sweet voice behind him, not ten steps out of Spanish class. And felt his knees instantly turn to Jell-o, trying to give out underneath him.

But before he could even collect himself, she was beside him. Long red coat trailing behind her as she walked, tight red, low cut shirt and black pants that clung to her like a dream come true. And big black combat boots, that made threatening jingling sounds as she walked down the hallway. Black eyeliner around dark smoke blue eyes, that caught his for just a second. All at once scary, beautiful, mysterious, and undeniably feminine.

She'd called him cute, of course, the other night.

But hell. He sure didn't feel cute. Not after spending the entire weekend, not to mention the world's longest Spanish class, wondering what the hell he'd been thinking, kissing a girl right out in public like that. She must think he was awful. It was just... disrespectful. He honestly thought he owed Wanda Maximoff an apology.

Bobby, Ray, Alex, and Berto had all agreed that an apology was the last thing he should be giving her, however. Instead, according to them, he should be asking her out. On a date. Jean-Paul had even offered to lend him the car, when he'd somehow caught wind of the idea.

But god. He honestly hadn't thought she'd ever speak to him again. Sure, he'd been having trouble not thinking about her. He remembered every word they'd said to each other. He always had a hard time talking with girls, but Wanda was just so... real. And everything he'd said to her, as stupid and country as it must've sounded to a girl like her... she'd smiled at him for it. Told him he was sweet. Kissed him once, just because he was so sweet, she'd said.

And then kept kissing him. And she had the nicest lips. Full and red, and man, when she smiled...

Sam's stomach flipped over inside of him as he slowed his pace to match hers. He cleared his throat and prayed that his voice wouldn't choose right now to squeak or give out on him. Had a tendency to do that, when he was nervous.

And boy, was he nervous. He could feel it, tightness in his throat, churning in his stomach, blood suddenly rushing fast. And his ears burning. Damn them.

"No," he made himself answer, "Ah was just thinkin' 'bout bein' somewhere else, is all." Although, in truth, he had been thinking about her when Mr. Harrison had called on him in class just a few minutes ago, and he had completely flubbed the answer. Trying to stop thinking about her, actually, but apparently helpless against whatever magic spell the Scarlet Witch had cast over him. "That boy beside ya, he's the one with the comics."

"No shit," she rolled her eyes. "If he tries to tell me one more damn thing about Superboy, I'm going to have to hex him."

Sam swallowed hard, and pulled his eyes off of her punk-pretty face, so that he could watch where he was going. As much as he felt like watching her instead, he knew better than to walk down the hall at Bayville High without paying attention. He'd end up flat on his ass and look a right fool, if he started that.

But hell. She was talking... to him. He'd seen her at lunch, of course, but he'd been sitting with Bobby, and she was with Jean-Paul and Pietro, as usual. Bobby had told him to go say hi, but hell if he was going over to that table. He liked JP and all, but between him and the Maximoffs there was so much intimidation factor, from a high school perspective, that they might as well have been the Horsemen of Apocalypse. So he'd kept away, and told Bobby to keep quiet.

And anyhow, he hadn't honestly believed that she'd ever notice him again, It was just a stupid drunken hook-up, after all. He should just be happy he'd even had a night like that, really. She wasn't the kind of girl who would ever like someone like him. She was intelligent, street-smart, funny, powerful. Christ on a crutch, she was Magneto's daughter! What would someone like her want with someone like him, anyhow?

But here she was. Talking to him. And she'd started it, just like she had at the club, defying all explanation.

Of course, he knew that he'd never be able to understand a woman like Wanda Maximoff. And knowing that really only added to his fascination with her.

"Ah gotta say, Wanda, if ya hexed him in the middle of class, that'd make a hell of an improvement, entertainment-wise. Ah feel like that class in drainin' mah will ta live, Ah swear."

She gave a short laugh, more of a quick release of air through her nose, and rolled those cobalt eyes again. He stole a quick glance, to watch, and found himself smiling at the familiarity of the expression on her face. "That's for fucking sure. And what the fuck is with that translation he gave us to do? A whole section... I'm going to have to blackmail Pietro into doing it for me."

He wasn't an idiot. He knew this was his chance. If he wanted to...

He did want to.

Fuck, no. He didn't! He couldn't...

She was Wanda Maximoff.

And he was... just... Sam.

Aw hell. He'd be sorry if he didn't... "Ah dunno, we could probably get it done pretty fast, if ya wanted to try and work on it together sometime."

She looked at him, sideways, for a moment, and didn't say anything. Just shifted her black shoulder bag a bit, and kept walking next to him.

Good god. Sam felt like his ears were about to burst into flame at any moment. Stupid idiot, what did ya expect? As if she would–

"Yeah, we should. That'd make it easier."

Sam suddenly released a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding in. He tried not to smile in relief, but knew damn well that he was failing miserably. "Sure would. It's gonna take awhile anyhow, but maybe it'd less painful this way. We could... ah dunno. Go after school sometime?"

Out of the corner of his eye, she saw her looking over at him again. Eyes narrowed, but not in a mean way. Thoughtfully. "Yeah, let's do that, then. But not at my house. I never get anything done there."

He hadn't really thought about it before, even though Wanda had complained to him about her brother a little the other night. But living with Pietro, Lance, Todd, and Freddy really had to be... well, awful for her sometimes. Particularly homework time. Almost made the Institute seem tame, by comparison. Course, Sam always thought the Institute was tame, considering that he used to have to get his schoolwork done in a house full of nine Guthrie children, all younger than him... "Where do ya usually work?"

"Coffee shop," she shrugged, looking down at her feet.

He swallowed hard. "Ah'll buy, if ya wanna go work on it. Sound ok?"

She gave a little half-laugh, but this time without the sarcasm. "Yeah, as long as I get my turn to buy."

"Ah dunno," he said noncommittally, the smile on his face now so wide he knew there was no way he could stop it. But damn... just... damn. Not that it was a date or anything. Just homework... but...

Well, damn!

"We'll cross that bridge when we come ta it, how's that sound?"

"You busy today?" She asked.

"Only if it's with you," he said, without thinking. He immediately wished that he hadn't said it, of course, and desperately wanted to smack himself on the forehead. Hard. Jesus, ya dumb hick...

But she looked back at him now, shaking her head. And smiling. Genuinely. That rarely seen, red-lipped smile. No teeth, but it got all the way to her eyes.

And he felt himself melt, inside. Mostly his knees and his stomach. But yeah, he was suddenly feeling inexplicably... mushy.

"Then yeah, you're busy. Meet me there at four?"

"You bet," he agreed, trying not to laugh out loud.

Why he felt like laughing, exactly, he wasn't sure. But man if he didn't feel right stupid, at the moment.



Aurora was still furious.

"JM, wait!" She heard Berto behind her, running after her as she tried to make it out the front door. "Wait, please! JM, I didn't mean it!"

This was just like him. All through English lit, she'd fumed over it. Roberto had seen her talking to Aaron Benedict after French class, and had completely flipped out about it. Right there, in the hallway, asked her what the hell she'd been thinking about, talking to that boy. Alex and Ray had been nearby, but she'd gotten so mad so fast, they hadn't even gotten a chance to calm the situation. They just stood and watched as she threw off Berto's hand and stormed away to lit. She hadn't even listened to another word out of her boyfriend's mouth.

Even Lance and Pietro had left her alone, in that class, once she shot them the first Death Glare. She did not need to mess with those two today. Not after that. And she hadn't heard a word her teacher had said all through class. She just sat and fumed. This was totally ridiculous. No one was funny enough, cute enough, or entertaining enough to justify this. They were supposed to be past this kind of nonsense! She kept saying it over and over in her head until she thought it would explode. Until finally, the bell had rung, and she had headed straight for the door, fighting hard to keep from using her super speed powers in the middle of the hallways.

She would be flying home today. And for a good three hours afterward, without question. Good Lord, but she needed to get free.

But now, he'd found her, when she was almost out.

And she surprised herself by stopping, on the front stoop, and turning to look back at him.

He was out of breath, obviously having sprinted from his class to catch up to her before she took off. He would know, of course, that she'd make herself scarce for the rest of the day, and he would never see her if she didn't want him to. But here, at school, they all had to keep their powers in check, and he could catch up to her. This was his only chance today, and they both knew it.

She just looked at him for a moment. Flushed from running, puppy dog eyes wide and brown and beautiful. And she sighed.

She hated to admit it, she really did. But perhaps Jean-Paul had a point. She really needed to reconsider her choice of a boyfriend.

She didn't want to change Roberto, didn't think she could even if she wanted to. But she couldn't deal with this anymore. It was more bad than good, lately. And that was more than she could handle, for him. Not a chance.

"Roberto, please. I'm angry right now, it's not the best time."

He reached out, like he would take her hand, but stopped in mid air. Uncertain. "JM, I'm so sorry. God, I know I said I wouldn't do it again, but everyone knows that guy's been after you since the first day, and I just... look... come with me to get some coffee, ok? You can get your French soda, a strawberry one, just like you like, and I'll get my cappuccino and we can talk..."

For a moment longer, she just stared. Finding it difficult to feel anything, but unable to really walk away from him.

But she did realize that she didn't much want to talk. She just wanted to fly.

Berto's hand fell back to his side, and his eyes to the ground. As if he realized it too.

"Hey...," She heard a reluctant voice behind her. Alex, she knew. "Everything ok? JP was looking for you two, said he was about to leave without you..."

She turned to look at the surfer boy, who was standing next to Ray, not five feet from them, looking at them curiously. And gave them a half-hearted smile. "Yes, we're fine. We're just going to have some coffee. If you see my brother, tell him that, would you?"

And she sighed. She shouldn't do this, she knew. She had no idea why she cared, after as many chances, as many times as they'd been through this. She ought to tell him, right here, right now, that she was done with this. No more forgiving and forgetting.

But when she looked back at him, she remembered why she cared. Roberto was smiling at her, hopefully.

Something in her wanted to be hopeful too. But her heart sank inside of her like a stone, and her eyes started to burn.



Alex shook his head at his roommate, "I dunno dude, she was pretty pissed after French. I think he's doomed."

"Na," Ray didn't seem like he was willing to be convinced, "She'll forgive him. She always forgives her brother for being an asshole."

"Blood is thicker than water man," Alex shrugged. He was actually starting to believe Ray's claims that he had no intention of hooking up with JM, simply because the last time it had come up, when Bobby had suggested that Ray was trying to impress Aurora one day, Ray had laughed and talked about how funny it was to watch Berto throw a fit. Followed by a long speech on how a guy and a girl can be good friends and have a good conversation without trying to fuck each other, and why was it such a big deal, and why did society insist that closeness and affection between two people automatically meant they had to be screwing anyhow?

Apparently, his roommate had an issue with people telling him what he felt. Or what to do, for that matter. Punk rawk, or something like that. Laid back Alex Summers couldn't imagine, but he had to admit, Ray was pretty sexy when he was soliloquizing on the evils of society and the roles it pushes people into.

As fucking weird as that sounded.

But Alex had politely changed the subject, before Ray and Bobby had gotten into a first rate cock-swinging match over the issue. Not that they weren't funny when they started their stupid arguments– they were only ever half serious, the only person Ray had ever been known to really fight with was Berto, and pretty much everyone fought with Sunspot at one point or another– but Alex just didn't like having bad vibes around him, so he usually took it upon himself to calm them the hell down.

"JM is no pushover, anyhow," he finished his thought, after only a moment's pause where roughly thirty trains of thought managed to crash inside his head and make one hell of a mess out of his brains. That happened, sometimes, when he thought too much about Ray. Mainly because he was constantly thinking about him, since dude was his goddamn roommate, and all.

"True. Dude, bet we could hitch a ride with JP, since they're not going."

Alex shook his head again, trying to pull himself back into reality still. "Not me, Scott's picking me up, he'll be here in a few. He spent all day with Jean and now we're supposed to get together and share some brother bonding time. For real, not just me sacrificing myself on the altar of his boy-scout-ness to keep you all out of trouble."

And, he added silently, I'm really gonna tell him today. Straight up, no question about it, gonna tell him. It was getting harder and harder not to, in fact, what with Scott suggesting various possibilities for a homecoming date recently from Jean's list of friends from high school. And anyhow, he wanted Scott and him to be close. Wanted his brother to know him completely, to know who he was, and to not have to hide anything from him. It wasn't in him, this pretending bullshit. And Scott was too important to him to let something stupid like this keep them from being close.

Ray laughed, "Oh man, have fun with that. Dude, I kinda want to go to the coffee shop and see what's up with JM and Berto..."

"What, like spy on them?" Alex chuckled. Hell, maybe dude did still have a thing for JM. "You that bored, or just in love?"

The other boy just kept laughing, "Dude, shut the fuck up. No, seriously, I have a metric fuckload of homework, and I don't feel like starting it. And honestly, I'm kinda worried about the drama they'll cause. Between Aurora and Sunspot... that's a lot of temper in one public place. Sure you want to go hang out with Fearless? We could go all MacGuyver on them."

"A metric fuckload. Is that bigger or smaller than the English fuckload?" Alex was still laughing with him. "And yeah, I'm sure. Hey, maybe I'll make him take me for coffee."

Actually, it wasn't a bad idea. Ray kinda had a point about the drama issue. And anyhow, might be something to lighten up the mood, or something else to talk about, if things got too awkward with Scott...

But Ray was furrowing his brow thoughtfully, "Ah fuck, I dunno. Would metric be bigger? Either way, it's a metric fuckload, I assure you..."

"Hey, hey, where's our van?" Bobby came up beside them, wearing some seriously aerodynamic looking purple shades and grinning, as usual. "Let's blow this joint."

"Alex is ditching us to hang out with big brother," Ray told him, making himself comfortable leaning against the wall where Mr. Logan or Ms. Munroe usually stopped to pick up anyone who didn't already have a ride home. "But check it, JM and Berto are about to go duke it out at the coffee shop, I think. They were fighting today. Alex figures it's the end for them."

"Dude, that's gonna be nuts!" Bobby raised his eyebrows. "'Cause get this, Sam and Wanda will be there. They're doing homework," he waggled the eyebrows suggestively now, "after school."

"Whoa dude, this shit is seriously fucked up," Ray commented, running a hand through his spiky hair distractedly.

Alex was sold, at that point. Way too much going on in Bayville tonight for him to want to leave. For once. "That's it, man. Scott's so buying me coffee."

Bobby chewed on his lip for a minute, then said, "I left my algebra book at home, I was using JM's today... but if I went home and grabbed it, I could go there and pretend to be doing my homework or something. Hell, maybe I'd even get something done."

"Dude, I'll go with Bobby to get his book. We'll both turn up there later. Maybe you and Scott will be done bonding by then," Ray shrugged at Alex.

Somehow, Alex doubted that it would be a short session with his brother. If he actually got up the guts to tell him, this time. But he nodded anyhow. "Yeah man, we'll be there, either way. Just give us some time, and he'll be happy." Because I really, really need to tell him. Today.

The other two nodded in unison as Scott's red convertible pulled up in front of them. Alex exchanged high fives with his friends and hopped into the front seat, over the door, landing in the bucket seat with a nice bounce. "What's up, bro? Have a nice day with Jean?"

Scott, to his surprise, just shrugged. "Alright, I guess. She was a little weird. I guess things got a little heavy while they were visiting that Worthington guy's holdings this weekend. Kinda brought her down."

Alex pulled the seatbelt down over his chest, and fit it into the slot with a snap. And took a deep breath, trying to calm the sudden bout of nerves that had just hit him. Like a ton of bricks. "Things gonna be ok?"

"Hard to tell, I guess. Where you wanna go anyhow?"

Weird answer, from Scott. Who normally sung Jean's praises to high heaven, even when she was in dreaded Bitch Mode. "Can we get some coffee?"

"Anything you want, Alex. I'm just happy to have some company that isn't Jean. I feel a little down myself... but don't worry I'm not angsting." Scott rolled his eyes, with a slight smile, mocking the world Alex used to describe him when he was in a mood.

"Good man. 'Cause I've been wanting to talk to you about something."

Wanda Maximoff rolled her eyes at herself in the mirror. Jesus. What the hell was she doing here?

Deep breath. No problem. Christ, it was only Sam Guthrie. He was harmless. A sweet country boy from Kentucky. A goody-two-shoes X-kid. What the hell was with this... thing that had suddenly taken up residence in her stomach and was jumping up and down every time she thought about it?

An alien, or something, felt like. Great. She had an alien baby in her stomach. And it was moshing.

She sighed, and suddenly flicked the water on her hands at the mirror, splattering droplets across her reflection, then turned around. She hadn't been fixing her make up, just trying to collect herself. Wanda put make up on in the morning, mostly to shield herself from the outside world (she somehow felt more comfortable knowing that the face people saw was mostly paint, and not really her,) so she rarely bothered fixing it up to make herself "pretty," the way most girls she knew did.

Of course, "most girls she knew" consisted of Kitty Pryde and Jeanne-Marie Beaubier, really. So that wasn't too surprising.

But the long stare into the mirror and repeated washing of her hands really hadn't done much to calm her the fuck down, unfortunately.

Sam had been sitting there, when she'd come into the coffee shop, looking down at his Spanish book, chewing the inside of his cheek in deep concentration. She'd stopped, just for a minute, and watched him. Feeling something strange well up inside of her. A strange sensation on her face, in the area of her cheeks.

She was trying to smile, she'd eventually realized. And she had no fucking clue why, but something about that ridiculous hick just made her want to smile.

She'd been fighting it the whole weekend. Telling Lance to fuck off repeatedly when he made fun of her for what had happened at the club. Rolling her eyes at Todd's injured looks. At least Pietro hadn't started on her, miraculously, but maybe he figured that was only fair, since she never gave him shit about JP. Of course, that was probably too much to hope for with Pietro, but for whatever reason, she was grateful that he'd kept his mouth shut about it. She really had made an honest attempt to tell herself it was nothing. Drunken hook up. Sam probably wouldn't even remember all those things he'd said, that had slowly worn down her defensiveness, made her talk to him for hours, dancing or sitting. About what, she couldn't even recall. Too many things to remember. But a lot of things, anyhow. A lot of things no one had ever bothered to ask her about before. And he was just so goddamn...

Sweet.

Wanda didn't know too many sweet boys really. Todd had his moments, she had to admit, but he always fucked it up by doing something stupid or irritating within five minutes. And all the others... Pietro, Lance, Jean-Paul, Freddy... they were either arrogant, jerky, or just plain dumb. Usually all three at once.

Sam was... different.

And that made her nervous. But it had also made her catch up with him after class today, and it had made her set him up. She'd purposely said something about their homework being killer– which, she justified it by reminding herself, it was– to give him the chance. If he was... interested, then he could suggest that they get together sometime.

And he had, much to her surprise. She had to hand it to him, it must've taken guts. He was shy as all hell.

Another thing that made it so fucking sweet. She really hadn't thought he'd do it. She'd actually expected it to kill this weird... crush, or whatever, when he refused to pick up on her hint.

So much for that idea.

She shoved the door to the bathroom open, harder than necessary, and strode through the crowded, buzzing coffee shop like she owned the place. Enough of this girly shit. Just go do your homework, Maximoff.

When she reached the table, he looked up at her, smiling that ridiculous lopsided smile of his and scratching at his blonde mop of hair. "Well, ah'm not sure how ya wanna do this, but if we split it down the middle we might be outta here in three hours."

She shook her head and smiled sarcastically, "Great," then sat down across from him at the little table. "I'll take the end, you take the beginning?"

He nodded and picked up his coffee to have a drink. She looked down to her own book, and saw that there was a large paper cup sitting right next to it that hadn't been there before. She looked up at him, and he was staring back down at his book, poking himself in the temple distractedly with his pencil eraser.

Jesus. Why the hell was that so fucking cute?"

"Thanks for the coffee," she said, picking it up to take a sip. It was perfect, caramel mocha, just like she'd asked for.

He looked up and grinned at her, "Sure. Ah didn't know if ya wanted whipped cream or not, so ah just said no."

"You said right. I hate that shit in my coffee."

"Yeah, me too," he agreed. "Gets all over mah face, anyhow."

She looked at him askance for a minute, picturing that adorable face with a whipped cream mustache, entirely against her will. And then, also against her will, started to laugh.

His cheeks turned a little pink, but he laughed with her anyhow.

Goddamn this shit was weird. Calm down, girl. So you made out with him, so what? You were drunk. Doesn't mean anything. He probably just thinks we're here doing our homework, and that's it, and that's all you want anyhow, so don't fucking forget it!

Right. Not interested at all. Just a stupid minor fixation because he was a good kisser. Had nice lips, really. Just because he could kiss, and he was different from any other guy she'd ever met, that didn't mean she should throw herself at him.

Well, alright. She'd already done that. But not sober, dammit. Fucking Pietro, getting her wrecked...

"Listen," his face suddenly turned a little serious, once they'd stopped laughing, and his eyebrows drew down over his baby blue eyes, "ah wanted to tell ya.... Ah'm real sorry about the other night. Not that it wasn't fun, 'cause it was, and all, but...," he started to struggle for words now, visibly, sentences becoming halting, and his eyes shifted from his book to her repeatedly. Like he was having trouble looking her in the eye while he spoke. "But ah don't want ya ta think that ah'm normally lahk that. Ah didn't mean any... disrespect, nothin' lahk that."

She felt the alien in her stomach start jumping around again, at this halting, strangely charming... what? Apology? So she nodded, slowly, "I'm not normally drunk and stupid either, Sam. But you... you weren't disrespectful. You were very sweet."

"Um... alright. Ah just wanted you ta know, is all. It's kinda been botherin' me, ya know?"

At that she found herself laughing again. Just a little, and very suddenly. Because yes, "I know."

"Rahght... Well ah feel a little better," he smiled again, and managed to meet her eyes steadily, this time. "Ah just... wouldn't feel right, without makin' sure you were... alright with everythin'. Ah had a great time, though."

See, it had to be that accent. Something about that country backwoods fucking accent he was sporting was just completely disarming. Not to mention charming as hell. And it got thicker depending on how much emotion he put into the word, which was pretty cute. And with that angelic face to go with it...

If only they could work on the hair, he'd be perfect, really.

"Don't sweat it, Crash," she said as she suddenly shook herself out of her girlish reverie, feeling a very demanding urge to be businesslike. She was enjoying looking at him entirely too much, and it had been quiet for a good five seconds after he'd spoken. The two of them just staring like idiots. "I was the one who kissed you, anyhow. You'd have something to apologize for if you hadn't kissed back."

This made his smile break free of whatever restraints he'd placed on it previously, and it lit up his entire face. Still crooked, still beguiling as fuck. "Ah never thought of it that way. Alright, so maybe if ah do it ta line twelve, and you go till twenty-four? Then the last line we kin collaborate on, real fast?"

She nodded in reply and looked back down to her book, to begin copying the Spanish onto her own paper. He was right about this probably being a three-hour job. It was way too early in the year to expect them to be able to translate anything much...

But what the fuck. Three hours doing this with Sam was eminently preferable to three hours sitting at home being tortured by the boys, that much was for fucking sure.



Roberto knew that this was not going to be easy.

God, what a fucking idiot he was. After all that time staying calm, he had to go and blow it. But he knew that Benedict guy wanted on JM, he'd known it for two months now, and seeing her leaning on the wall, talking to him like that, laughing...

Shit. He'd thought it was going to make his head explode. Just the memory of it made him think his head was going to explode, right now.

At least Jean-Paul hadn't heard about it yet...

No. Know what? Fuck Jean-Paul. This had nothing to do with him, and that motherfucker could–

"So what, exactly, did you want to talk about?" Jeanne-Marie cut into his thoughts, staring at him as they walked away from the cash register with their drinks.

No, not Jeanne-Marie. Not quite Aurora in full force either... but this girl beside him was entirely too stand-offish, self-possessed, to be the JM he was used to. Something inside of her had shifted when he'd flipped out, and he knew it. And he had no one to blame but himself.

He stuffed his money into his pocket, and led her to one of the nearby empty tables. "You know what, JM. About today. About what happened."

She didn't answer as they took seats at a table near the window. Instead, she looked around for a bit, and something caught her attention in the far corner. "Sam and Wanda are here."

He turned to look behind him and saw that it was indeed Cannonball. And the Scarlet Witch. Both of them laughing over something, and sipping coffees, leaning in close over the table.

Yeah, he wasn't hallucinating. Wanda Maximoff was laughing. Sam, he laughed all the fucking time. The guy hung out with Drake constantly just so he would never have to stop laughing, Berto was pretty sure. But Wanda always looked so...

Fucking pissed.

She was pretty when she laughed though. In a scary kind of way. And damn, did she look good in a bathing suit.

Well, at least someone was having good luck with the ladies today. He really hadn't expected Sam, as much as he liked the guy, to have the balls to ask Wanda to hang out with him outside of school. Let alone expected a chick like Wanda to go for country-boy Sam. But what the hell. Love did some crazy shit to people.

As he knew, all too well.

But now was the time to fess up, or Berto was going to be totally out of luck in about five minutes. "Jeanne-Marie... I only get upset because I adore you," he said, after they conversed about their friends in the corner for a minute. "The idea of you deciding you'd rather be with someone else... it scares me a lot. And I just lose my temper."

"You don't trust me then," she raised an eyebrow, sipping some of her pink cream soda through her straw. "You don't think I mean it when I say I'm interested in no one but you."

"No, no," he insisted, knowing damn well that he was being led into a trap with that one. He'd been around the block enough to know that trick, and he was being extra careful tonight. "You know that's not what it is. It's them I don't trust."

She actually rolled her eyes at him.

And he felt his stomach drop.

Shit. She was really pissed this time. Oh shit, shit, shit. She never got sarcastic with him, not even when she was mad. Oh fuck. Don't panic, don't panic, you didn't lose her yet...

"Berto, that's ridiculous. It takes two to cheat. Just because someone likes me, doesn't mean I like them. And if I did, I wouldn't be with you. Why is that so difficult for you?"

He could feel his blood speeding up now, because despite his insistence to the contrary, he was, indeed, beginning to panic. "I... I don't know, JM. I'm just... I'm sorry."

She looked at him for just a moment longer, beautiful and so cold. Cold, ice blue eyes. Cold, ivory face.

And he knew it wasn't enough.

"Me too," she said, finally. "Roberto, we can't do this anymore. It makes me feel bad. Makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong. I can't do this."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I feel bad too, you know. All the time. With your brother breathing down my neck and threatening to kill me all the time...," he wanted to say that her constant flirting made him feel horrible too. Inadequate and scared. But he couldn't, because he knew that he did the same. And he honestly didn't want to hurt her. Even now. "But I stuck it out with you, JM. You're..."

"I'm what?" She asked, quietly.

He opened his eyes now, feeling a little calmer. But his face was so hot and his throat was so tight, he had to fight to squeeze the words out. "You're perfect."

"Roberto... I'm not. You know I'm not. You said yourself, I make you feel bad. I know you feel bad when you see me talk to other boys, you feel bad knowing that Jean-Paul doesn't like us being together– why would you want to stay with me? We just make each other miserable."

He shook his head, "No, no you know that's not true. We've had so much fun. Remember when we went on that picnic, just you and me, and we took Alex's CD player. Got lost in the woods and spent the day wandering around, looking up at the trees, just being stupid, talking about silly stuff? And when you were working on your paper, and we had all that fun going through the painters and talking about what we liked or hated or whatever? And the other night, at the club..."

She was sighing at him now, and her eyes suddenly looked sad. Not cold anymore. Just sad. "We have fun... but it's not enough, is it? There has to be something more."

Roberto just shook his head again, helplessly, feeling himself caught beneath some kind of landslide, powerless against it. "Yes... yes it is, Jeanne-Marie. We're just kids. I'm only sixteen–,"

Ah fuck. He knew, as soon as he said it, that he'd signed his own death warrant. Basically given her a reason to tell him to fuck off. He wasn't ready for what she wanted. Hell, he didn't even understand what she wanted...

"Yes, I know. And I'm eighteen. Berto, it has been really fun, you're right. And you're very beautiful, inside and out. But...,"

He just squeezed his eyes shut again, afraid of the sudden burning in them, and held up his hand. "Don't. Just... don't right now."

Fuck. He should've seen it coming. He sat there, eyes closed, and went through every emotion he had in him.

Anger. This had to be that fucking Jean-Paul's fault. He had poisoned her against him, just because he didn't like him, for whatever goddamn reason. And what the hell was wrong with her, listening to that asshole? Couldn't she think for herself, after all that crap she gave him about being old enough, strong enough to decided who she could talk to, who she could be with...

Betrayal. That fucking Aaron Benedict. That's who it was. He was older, and pretty tough looking. Chicks always liked tattoos. Or Ray! That fucking guy always thought it was so fucking funny when Berto and JM got into it. He'd seen the way Ray and Alex were watching them, when he'd flipped out on her after their class. Probably rubbing his little hands together happily now, waiting for his chance! Hell, maybe Alex too. Or Drake! Jean-Paul loved Bobby, everyone knew it. Thought he was hilarious. She'd probably been told my her stupid twin to date someone like Drake...

Regret. No. No, it wasn't any of those things. Jesus, nothing like that at all. JM was an honest, intelligent, wonderful girl. Sure, she flirted a lot, but so did he. And she'd never given him any reason to suspect that she would rather be with anyone else, let alone that she would cheat on him. No, it was him, Roberto, who was the bastard here. Always bitching her out for absolutely nothing, all because of that stupid DaCosta temper. He'd gotten out of it too many times, and now he'd finally done it, and he'd lost the perfect girl...

Sadness. Fuck. This was really it, wasn't it? No talking his way back. He knew there was no one else like Jeanne-Marie Beaubier in the whole world, too. No one as smart, no one as funny, artistic, beautiful, no one as willing to let him be himself as she was. No one who had her way of appreciating the world around her. No one who knew how to have as much fun. No one he wanted to love, not the way he wanted to love her.

Just...

Fuck.

He opened his eyes, and she was looking at him. Sadly. Pretty and wide-eyed, naturally pouting lips angled downward at the corners just so, soft and sympathetic. And he wanted to kiss them. And it hurt, to know that he couldn't. Hurt so fucking bad, he could've sworn his heart was breaking.

"You're saying we're done, right?"

She nodded, slowly. "Fun is fun, Berto. But when the bad starts outweighing the good... it's time to quit."

He sighed again. And had to admit, she had a point. "I never wanted to make you hurt you."

"I never wanted to either. And I never wanted my brother to. But I think we will be better off as friends... if you can be my friend, after this."

He smiled at her, somewhat grudgingly. "Of course I fucking can, JM. I'm not gonna pretend it's not going to bother the hell out of me when I see you with the next guy. Cause it is. I meant what I said, I think you're perfect. But... yeah, it's starting to feel bad more than good. You're right."

She reached across the table and covered his hand with her smaller one. And smiled back. "I'm sorry it didn't work."

He snorted, "Me too. Bet your brother is gonna have a fucking field day over this one. He'll be overjoyed."

Aurora rolled her eyes at him, and started digging in her bag for her books. "Shut up, Roberto, and help me with my ideas for art class. I need to design an album cover."

Berto rolled his eyes right back, trying to look like he wasn't upset. Trying to pretend that he understood what had just happened.

But really, he just felt super fucking empty.



Things with Jean had been weird, lately. Mostly, he figured it was just the separation. She'd been around most weekends though, and a lot of times she just turned up during the week, since her parents bought her a car for graduation. And she was doing really well in school, working hard, wowing all her professors, just like Scott had known she would.

But lately, even when they were together... something was off. Things didn't seem to click. Like they'd lost whatever it was that had made them so close last year.

She was still an angel to him, of course. Gorgeous, brilliant, all that. And he loved it. Loved her. But when he sat next to her at lunch today... he couldn't think of anything to talk about. The practical jokes at the mansion? No, she was never impressed with that kind of thing. The way JP had pulled the wool over his eyes and gotten everyone drunk in NYC? Oh hell no, she'd have a fit if she found out, and chew him out on top of that for letting it happen. They had talked a bit about the team, who was doing what...

But other than that...

She had talked about classes. Her professors. The kids at school. No one there had made a big deal yet about her association with the X-Men. Thus far, she'd been treated just like any other kid. She'd told him about the weekend they'd had touring some of Warren Worthington's holdings, at his request. Angel had apparently found some dodgy interests in his family's holdings, now that he was taking some responsibility for the empire he would inherit some day. It had been hours of tours, going through files, and researching various anti-mutant interests to check out the ties he feared he'd found between his family's money and certain nefarious bio and tech companies. That was pretty interesting, for awhile, to listen to that, even though it had obviously worn Jean out. But Scott hadn't seen Warren since the Apocalypse mess, and he was more than happy to hear about how and what he was doing.

But it was all stuff that didn't really concern either of them. Just... gossip or small talk or stuff about mutant rights. And when they were done with that... they'd just stared at each other.

Something was missing. And he didn't know what. Even more so today than it had been for the past month. He knew when he looked her in the eye that she felt it too. They both had, since she'd left, really.

And it was making him nuts.

But hell, he was here with Alex now, and maybe he could talk it out with him. After all, if you can't confide in your brother, who can you confide in?

He bought their coffee while Alex went to say hi to Sam and Wanda, who were in the corner doing their homework, much to Scott's shock and amazement. He'd never seen the two of them within ten feet of each other before, let alone hanging out. When he found them a table, Alex wandered back over, and Scott noticed that Jeanne-Marie and Roberto were also in the shop, near to the window, and he hadn't even seen them coming in. But the place was crowded with high school and college kids, even a few that Scott recognized from class, so that wasn't too surprising.

As the kid sat down, Scott handed him his coffee and took a sip of his own, the usual Irish Creme. "So, what's with Wanda and Sam?"

Alex grinned from behind his coffee cup. "Apparently they totally hooked up that night when they all went out. Everyone's been bugging him all weekend to ask her out. Looks like he at least worked up the nerve to ask her to study, anyhow. They're translating some hella long Spanish thing right now."

Interesting. He wondered if Sam had any idea what, exactly, he was getting himself into. Not that he could really blame the guy. Wanda was crazy, of course, but she'd been a lot better lately. More in control. And hell, after seeing her in that bathing suit... yeah. Couldn't blame Guthrie at all. "What about them," Scott nodded toward the silent JM and Berto at the window table.

Alex didn't even need to turn around to know who he meant. "Don't ask, man. Berto flipped out in the hall today when he saw her talking to this dude from our French class who's totally into her. Dude is pretty much doomed, I'm thinking, judging from the way she stormed off. He's probably trying to talk his way out of the doghouse."

Scott just shook his head at the strange soap opera machinations of the Xavier Institute. It was inevitable, of course, that things would go this way. Too many hyper-hormonal teens under one roof, and things like this were bound to happen. And, he knew, that wasn't even the half of it. He may not have been the most observant human on the planet, but he'd have to be deaf and blind not to see what was going on with JP and Pietro Maximoff. And while he didn't have a problem with it, personally, despite a strong dislike for Maximoff... thinking about it too much always led to disturbing mental images that tended to haunt him when he saw Jean-Paul in the halls or at dinner. And that was definitely not appetizing.

And then there was his own drama with Jean, of course. And god knew how many other strange pairings and goings on.

Just goes to show, you can make superheroes out of teenagers. But they'll still just be teenagers, at heart.

"Anything else I should know about?"

Alex suddenly looked down, at the plastic lid on his coffee. And bit at his lip.

Scott leaned back in his chair now. Right. The kid had said he wanted to talk to him about something. "Ok, what's up with you?"

His little brother half laughed, but still wouldn't look up at him. Dammit, he was hiding whatever was wrong, or he'd be looking him in the eye... "I dunno. What's up with you and Jean?"

Alright. He could play this game. "I don't know, to be honest," he put one of his arms over the back of his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him, assuming a nice relaxed position. Let the kid take his time, if he wanted. This time, Scott didn't have his head so far up his own ass that he couldn't see that Alex really had something to talk about. And if he needed to spill to get the kid to, so be it. This could be good for both of them. "Just feels a little... empty lately, you know? Like, today, I couldn't think of things to say to her. We were both so obviously thinking of other shit, even though we were with each other. Felt like we were just going through the motions. It's kinda been like that since she started her life at school, even though she's still really active with the X-Men."

Alex raised his eyebrows, obviously surprised. "Yeah, you said before that you were feeling off. Maybe that was it?"

Scott shrugged, "Possibly. Hard to say, it was a while ago. But it would make sense, if that was it."

"You still in love?"

Scott opened his mouth to answer affirmative... and stopped. Was he in love? "Well... I definitely love her."

"Dude, I love Bobby, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna marry him," Alex pointed out, with a half-grin. "And I'm sure as hell not in love with him."

Actually... the kid had something there. And Scott really had no idea what to say to him on that one. "Hell, Alex, I don't know. I love a lot of people too. It's not exactly the same... but I see what you mean."

"Maybe it's just being apart for longer than you're used to," Alex shrugged, taking another drink of his plain dark roast. How the kid drank that shit, Scott had no idea, but at least he never seemed to be affected by the caffeine.

"Maybe," he admitted, suddenly certain of only one thing, when it came to Jean– that he had no fucking idea about anything, at that moment. Everything he heard seemed like as likely an explanation as the next, in fact. "I guess I just need to think about it a little more. What about you man, what's up? Look up at me, don't hide your eyes under that hair."

Alex rolled his dark eyes and blew upward, so that his bangs flew straight up and out of his eyes, then landed neatly to the side where they were meant to be.

And Scott could see perfectly that something had him worried.

"Alex... what's wrong?" He asked, quiet now. He was suddenly getting the feeling that this was pretty serious, whatever it was. And possibly something he'd missed, something he should've noticed a long time ago. Somehow, he could just tell, when Alex looked at him.

The kid sighed a little, and looked him in the eye, a half-baked smile, almost apologetic, on his face. "Something I've been meaning to talk to you about, bro. For a long time. It's not really that big of a deal or anything, I just... I don't like pretending with you. I mean, we're family, right?"

Scott nodded. Family indeed. The only family he had, in fact. Not to mention someone he considered a pretty good friend. Someone he loved. "Yeah. And you can tell me anything, I mean that. What's wrong?"

"Nothing wrong," Alex shrugged, after another sip of coffee. "I just... I've been thinking a lot lately, and I talked to Jean-Paul about it, a couple of times now, and he's been really cool. I just felt bad, telling him before you. Like I said, it's not a big deal–,"

"Jean-Paul?" Scott was hopelessly confused by the mention of his Canadian teammate and good friend. He knew that JP and Alex got along well, but he hadn't known that they had "talks." Honestly, he wasn't sure how he felt about that, considering how shady JP was when it came to the law or morality. Not that he didn't love the guy, but taking a bunch of under-aged kids to a nightclub and getting them trashed was hardly the kind of behavior he would've hoped for in a mentor for Alex. Or, for that matter, hiding a bag of weed under the asparagus in the freezer at the Institute– a fact that JP had confessed to only long after the evidence had been sped away to some other hiding spot. And whether it was true or not, Scott would never know, but still... shady, man. Totally shady. "Why did you go to him? I mean... you know he's my friend, and I do love the guy, but–"

"Look, Scott, I don't really know how to beat around the bush on this one, man." Alex shook his head, holding up one hand to make him stop talking. "But I'm tired of acting like I'm interested when you bring up possible girls for me to date. I know you're trying to help me out and all, but you're my brother, and I feel like it makes us less close, that I lie to you even a little. And dude... I'm gay."

For a moment, Scott sat still as he felt each of his bodily functions grind painfully to a halt. And then, excruciatingly, they started back up again, chugging along slowly until they returned to normal, and he realized that he had better hurry up and say something. God, say anything. Because his little brother was staring at him with huge, scared eyes over a cup of coffee, telling him that he liked boys... and fuck, had he really heard that right? "Um... gay?"

Oh shit. Nice one, Slim... really fucking smooth move...

Alex seemed to be releasing a really long breath, one he must've been holding for a long time, as he said, "Yeah dude. So um... no more dating advice, unless it's from the other side of the fence, if you don't mind."

He was trying to joke about it, of course. Trying to lighten Scott up. Like it was no big deal.

And it wasn't... Alex was still Alex, his kid brother. Didn't mean that he was any different than he'd always been, than Scott had always thought he'd been...

Did it?

He forced a smile, and nodded, "Heh. Yeah, alright then, no more of that. So um... how long have you... known?"

Alex stared down at his coffee cup for a minute now, and it gave Scott a chance to think things through. Ok, think of it like a mission.

What is your goal?

To spend time with your little brother, to get to know him better. To assure him, and yourself, that you have not lost each other, that you are family, that you will always be there for each other. To feel that closeness you haven't felt in years, not until you found him.

What is in your way?

Nothing... right? You love this kid, you missed him for years. Jesus, it had hurt when you thought he was dead. Part of you died with him. And when you saw him again, god, hadn't that been amazing...

Hell.

"Well, I guess I always kinda knew. I mean, when did you know you liked girls? Look, if you're not cool with this–,"

Scott shook his head, suddenly. Wake the fuck up, Summers. This is your brother! "No, man, it's not that. It's just... I didn't expect it, that's all. I thought it was something... I don't know... something else. I never... no man, it's cool."

Alex looked up at him, through his light eyelashes.

And Scott knew that his brother didn't believe him.

But it was cool... right?

"Dude, seriously, it's totally cool. Just caught me by surprise, I swear. You know I don't care about shit like that. I mean... Jean-Paul is one of my best friends."

He said the words, but he felt like he was swimming through something as he said them. Not exactly like lying... but something else. Something that made his cheeks burn, like a lie. Something that kind of hurt.

Because yeah, it was one thing to be friends with JP. To joke around and stuff. Knowing that his friend was gay was nothing. But this was Alex. His brother. And it was...

Yeah, ok, it was little weird.

And the kid was still looking at him. Scared.

And he couldn't think of a goddamn thing to say.

Finally, Alex spoke again, "You're so not ok with this, Scott."

"No, man, I am. It's just a little weird, that's all. I'll get used to it. Alex... listen man... I love you, ok?"

Alex leaned back in his chair, and looked down at his coffee. And let his hair fall into his eyes.

"I do. Alex, look at me, please."

Alex looked up, again through his eyelashes. Bangs back in his face, hiding his eyes at least halfway.

"I love you, ok? Just give me a minute. You caught me by surprise."

And he meant every word of that, at least.

He did love Alex, and it didn't really matter. No question. But... hell, it was just a little weird, was all. The only other person he really knew who was gay was JP. And while he was all well and good as a friend... he was hardly the best example. And he wasn't sure if that meant that he didn't want Alex hanging out with JP anymore, now that he knew about this, or if it meant that he personally needed to get to know more gay people, to assure himself that they weren't all like Jean-Paul Beaubier.

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Christ, he was just one person. It's not like Northstar represented all mutants in the world (thank god) any more than he represented all gay people, for crying out loud. For the love of god, it's not as if they were a different species. Just a little thing. One personality trait in a list of millions. Jesus, he was being insane about this. No big deal...

Calm down. Reassure him. For fuck's sake, say something intelligent.

"I swear to god, Alex, it doesn't change anything. I'm sorry I got so... weird, ok? Just... I didn't expect it. You know me, I like to be able to see everything coming."

Alex just looked at him for a minute, then reached out for his coffee. But he still had his hair in his eyes. "Yeah, I guess it's a hell of a bomb to drop. JP was surprised too."

"So... you talked to JP, huh?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Had to talk to someone, man. Never really admitted it until I talked to him."

That made Scott feel pretty shitty, honestly. And he knew, in retrospect, that Alex had been trying to tell him for damn near a month now. And he'd been too fucking self-involved to notice. "I'm... sorry I wasn't there."

"Looking back, Scott...," Alex chewed at his lip a moment, as if in deep thought, "I think it's good that I talked to Jean-Paul first. He made me feel a lot better, you know? Like, made me think I wasn't such a freak."

That statement hit Scott like a slap in the face. He knew, of course, that Alex hadn't meant to imply the "which you certainly aren't helping with," that Scott heard there anyhow. But damn. He was a horrible brother. And he knew that, however much he was trying not to, he *was* making Alex feel like a freak.

But Alex was continuing, oblivious to the (deserved) pain he'd just caused, "He's a really nice guy, I know what you see in him now. Well, ok, not a nice guy, but he's cool."

And Scott felt his eyebrows raise in alarm, as a horrible, horrible thought occurred to him. Just the other night, he'd seen JP lean over and kiss his kid brother on the cheek.... Oh no. Fuck no... anything but that... "Um... not to pry or anything, but um... you and Jean-Paul aren't...?"

The surfer kid suddenly burst out laughing, and couldn't answer a few minutes, he was shaking so hard.

Scott just stared, torn between laughing himself, and crying. Because he had no idea what the fuck that meant, and he didn't want to speculate. Oh god, it had been bad enough when he'd thought it had been JP and Pietro... if it was JP and Alex...

"Dude," Alex finally managed, "Just because he's gay and I'm gay, it doesn't mean we want each other."

Scott kept staring for a moment, and then smiled. "Yeah, ok. I know that, man I just... I mean, he kissed you."

Alex just shook his head and kept his eyes hidden. "Dude... he's hot and all, but no thanks."

Scott closed his eyes, and tried to pretend he hadn't heard that.

He loved Alex, alright. But hell. This was going to take some serious getting used to.



"Mah god, Wanda," Sam was shaking his head. "That only took us an hour!"

Wanda rolled her eyes at him, but was really quite impressed with their teamwork. She had honestly expected his initial three-hour projection to be dead on. "We're fucking brilliant, that's why."

"What a team," he shook his head, as if reading her mind. "Super hella fast."

"Hella?" She raised her eyebrows. What the fuck was that about?

He blushed, but only minimally. "Alex. He says this stuff... ah swear, we all caught on. Dude and man and hella all the goddamn time."

She laughed at him, silently, but it shook her shoulders and stomach.

And felt, to be honest, good. Her coffee was only halfway gone, and getting cold, but she wouldn't mind just sitting here with him and finishing, really. Because despite the fact that she hated her Spanish class, not to mention her Spanish teacher... she was really having a pretty good time doing the homework, tonight. Which was nothing short of miraculous, for her. "I guess it's pretty catchy. We should do this more often, we tore this sucker apart."

He was grinning when she looked up at him quickly (and immediately looked back down, of course), and chewing the inside of his cheek again in that funny way he had before replying, "Yeah, Ah agree. We sure did rip it up. Maybe we should do all our Spanish together."

This time, she looked up at him, and saw him examining his own translation, carefully avoiding her eyes.

And she was halfway glad for it. And halfway wanted him to look up.

To her surprise, he did just that, just as she thought it. And caught her eyes with his. And his grin grew even wider.

"Maybe we should," she forced out, just watching his eyes smile. They had this weird kind of sparkle to them. Quite pretty, really.

Christ, she felt stupid. Staring at him like some kind of love-struck idiot. But he'd kept cracking little jokes, stupid jokes, the whole time they'd been working. And he laughed so easily, and he made her feel so... relaxed. His stupid accent, his ridiculous southern turn of phrase, his farm boy manners, and that idiot grin of his...

Hell. She really did like Sam Guthrie.

And she felt like a fucking fool for it. She hardly even knew him. But she couldn't help it. He was just so... sweet.

"Ah think we'd get better grades, if we did, Wanda," he agreed with her, after a moment, looking back down at his paper. "Maybe every Monday we could... ya know, work on our translation for the week. Here."

She nodded, also looking back down at her own paper, feeling utterly stupid for the wash of... girlishness she felt spill over her. Damn. Fucking hick, making her get all choked up. What the hell was wrong with her?

And when the fuck would that alien stop moshing?!

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan."

"And uh... maybe on Friday we could...," Sam paused there, and she fought an urge to look up at him now, to see what he was thinking. She knew it'd be written all over his face, practically in bold on his forehead. It hadn't taken her long to realize that Sober Sam was not so different from Drunk Sam, who was as honest and guileless as the day was long (as he would've said.) Sober Sam was just a little shyer about coming right out and–,"

"...maybe go see that new movie with the guy from Star Wars in it. For a study break, ya know? Rogue said it was pretty good."

Now, she looked back up at him. And smiled when she met his eyes. He didn't even look away, just grinned at her lopsidedly. Like he had nothing to lose. "Yeah, ok. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, huh?"

He laughed, "The Shining is the best horror movie ever."

She shook her head, impressed that he got the reference. Nice. "You like Kubrick?"

"Hell yeah," he nodded enthusiastically, "We got his complete works, between me an' Bobby. You should come over for one of our marathons."

She shook her head, cursing herself for an idiot once again. Just like she had outside the club, when she'd offered to teach him how to dance, a few days ago. "Yeah, I should. Didn't know you guys had fun at the Institute. Thought you were always in training."

He rolled his eyes skyward, and sighed heavily. "Feels lahk it sometimes. But a bunch a idiots lahk me an' Bobby an' Kurt? Gimme a break. So um... Ah can pick ya up, if ya want?"

"How's eight?" She asked, silently commanding that goddamn alien in her stomach to stop for just one second so she could hold a fucking conversation.

"Ah'll be there," he smiled again.

The alien, she found, did not wish to comply. But she didn't really care so much anyhow.

Not at the moment.



Ray came into the coffee shop and looked around, carefully. It had taken fucking forever to get Bobby out of the house, thanks to a phone call from Jubilee, who was apparently coming back to the Institute in a few weeks. Not that he wasn't happy about Jubes coming back, she was a trip, but he was pretty sure that they would've missed anything interesting that was going down at the coffee shop by that time, if it was going to happen tonight. Hell, it was already seven.

The quick look around, as Bobby bought their coffee (his penance for making them late), proved that he was right. Half of the people they'd expected to find here were gone. And only Sam, Berto, and Alex remained, at a window table, all silent and working on various homework assignments.

Well, he'd just see how long they could keep that shit up, now that he was here!

Bobby handed him a cup of coffee, once he'd paid, and they walked over to the table full of their friends.

"Yo, yo!" Bobby announced to them, as they came up behind Roberto. "Iceman in the hizzouse!"

Alex and Sam both looked up and grinned at them. Ray watched them closely, and saw that Sam looked like a damn fool, and Alex looked like he was forcing it.

Hrm. Interesting.

"Sorry we're late, Alex," Bobby was explaining, pulling up a chair on the end while Ray took the empty one next to Berto. His favorite person in the whole world. "Hope you didn't suffer too much with big bro, but Jubes called and she's coming back soon!"

Sam looked up, "No kiddin'? Her parents are sendin' her back to us?"

Bobby nodded smugly, "Right on. Apparently her powers are screwing up or something. I think she's doing it on purpose, to get them to send her back, but they've been talking to Xavier and he convinced them that shit is ok here now."

"Well doesn't that just beat all," Sam was shaking his head and scratching at it. "That's great news."

"Yeah," Ray cut in, "but the important thing here is... did you score or not dude?"

Sam just grinned, "In a way, ah guess."

"They're going out on Friday night," Alex elbowed Sam, and grinned at him.

"No shit!" Ray gave his friend a thumbs up across the table, and turned his attention to the moping Brazilian to his right. And couldn't resist asking, "Did you make it out alive, Berto?"

Honestly, he had no idea what kind of perverse thing in him reacted so badly to Roberto DaCosta. But he hated that whole rich cover boy act, and figured that Berto pretty much represented The Man. And he acted like they should all bow down to that. And Ray, for one, got a charge out of irritating the guy, just because. Normally he wasn't all that argumentative, tending to accept whatever people did as their own thing (until they fucked with him, of course, and then better be-fucking-ware.) But Berto had rubbed him the wrong way, right from the beginning.

Sunspot shot him a sideways glare, and remained silent.

"I'll take that as a no," Bobby shook his head, sympathetically. "Sorry, man. But you'll have your day yet, my friend."

"Yeah," Alex threw in, brightly, "and at least you don't have to worry about JP trying to kill you."

Berto rolled his eyes, and finally looked up from his math homework. "I suppose I should be happy about that."

Bobby shrugged, "JP trying to kill you is scary. This one time, he had me on the ground giving me dot-dots, and man did it suck. He's tough!"

"He loves you guys," Berto sulked, dropping his pencil as if it had disgusted him and leaning his chin on one hand. "If any one of you had been dating JM, he wouldn't have ruined it for you. He just hates me."

Ray had to admit, Berto was right. He knew damn well that JP hated the Brazilian Wonder. Everyone knew, in fact. None of the other New Mutants had any trouble with the older boy, despite his infamous temper. Sure, they were all scared of him, really, but JP seemed to actually like Bobby and Sam, sometimes. And he'd helped Ray out big time with the whole dressing for the club thing– not to mention offering to buy beer this weekend for him and Alex, and whoever else didn't get to get fucked up last weekend. And that was pretty fucking cool. And JP and Alex had been getting pretty buddy-buddy lately too, staying up talking till 1AM, whatever the hell that was about. Sure, JP was a bitch. But he had only really made an enemy of one person in the house– the guy who was dating his sister.

"Eh, don't worry," he found himself saying, despite his strong dislike for Roberto. The kid was a fuckwit and a showoff. And he treated JM like hell, which was really the thing that pissed Ray off the most, and probably JP too. She was a fucking cool girl, and deserved a lot better. But hell... losing someone like that was a real pisser. "Other fish in the sea."

Berto looked at him sideways again, and seemed ready to mouth off, for just a moment. But instead, he only sighed. "Yeah, I guess. Just... not many like her, is all."

Bobby shrugged again, "Well, that's true. We've all had a crush on JM at one point or another, huh?"

Ray nodded. He had, when she'd first come. Jesus, both of the Beaubiers were fucking gorgeous, hard not to notice. He'd gotten over it, of course, once he realized that not only was she heinously unstable, but she was also way too girly for his tastes. Talk about high maintenance. No thanks. As a friend, she was brilliant. Easy to talk to and really insightful. As a girlfriend, she'd be a fucking nightmare.

"That's kinda not what I wanted to hear, Drake," Berto sighed, as if he'd utterly given up.

Weird, coming from DaCosta. Normally he would've been charged up and ready to rumble by now.

Or maybe that was only when Ray said shit like that, that Roberto wanted to fight. He knew that Berto liked him about as much as he liked Berto. And took a sick kind of pleasure in it usually.

But hell, dude had obviously had a rough night. "You'll bounce back in no time," he gave the Brazilian boy a pat on the back. "I know I gave you shit when you were dating her, but I didn't mean anything by it. I just like fucking with you. We all feel your pain, dude."

"We do, and as your suite-mate, I must say that I will be more than happy to lend you a shoulder to cry on, or to crack bad jokes until you finally stop looking so goddamn pathetic," Bobby nodded, authoritatively. "However, if you don't mind, I'd like to give my other roommate a little high five action, because he is going out with one of the hottest chicks I've ever had the pleasure to see in a bikini this Friday." And he leaned across the table, reaching out to his friend over Alex's open book.

Sam flushed a little, and smacked Bobby's hand, then grabbed it and shook it before letting go, in their typical best-friend handshake. "Thanks, man. Couldn't have done it without ya."

"Sam, you're such a badass," Ray shook his head. "I honestly never thought you'd have the balls to do it."

"Shouldn't underestimate him," Bobby nodded sagely. "And seriously, the man is a chivalric genius. Did you see him working it at the club? All gentleman-like. Chicks dig that shit."

Sam just laughed, and looked back down at his notebook, "Just bein' honest with her, Bobby. Chicks dig that too, ah guess."

"Pshaw!" Iceman practically giggled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Where the hell did the girls get to anyhow?"

"Scott took them home. We still had work to do, so we decided to hang out," Alex offered.

From the look on Berto's face, Ray figured it was more an issue of Sunspot wanting to stay and pout, and his mates Havok and Cannonball not wanting to leave him here alone in his misery. Which was pretty cool, really.

As much as he liked fighting with Berto on occasion... that was one of the coolest things about Xavier's. Kinda like a family. All of them. Berto was like the younger brother who annoyed the shit out of him, Bobby was like the brother who made everyone laugh and cool off when things got tough, Sam was the level-headed one who was perpetually good-natured and quick thinking, like the big brother, really, and Alex was the cool one who lent a chilled out vibe to the whole scene. And Ray knew all too well that his own role was the hot-headed punk, most of the time (which, he realized, was probably why he and Alex never fought– they pretty much canceled each others' extremes out.) But they all knew that he had their backs. And they all had his. Even worked like that in the Danger Room.

Seriously, he liked that though, the family thing. Was something new, anyhow, for him.

But speaking of family and Scott, "How'd the brotherly bonding go?" Ray put his hand over Alex's book, across the table from him, so that his roommate had to stop reading and answer the question.

Alex looked up without moving his head, through golden eyelashes, and raised one eyebrow. "Alright, I guess. We're both still alive."

This confused Ray. He'd never seen the Summers boys fight. At all. Ever. So what the fuck could that mean? "Dude, what's that about?"

"Forget it," Alex shook his head, smiling.

Ray couldn't help but notice that the smile was kinda forced. And Alex was hiding his eyes behind his hair. He always did that stupid shit when he didn't want someone to know what he was thinking. You don't live with someone for almost six months and miss that kind of shit.

"Dude...?"

Alex shook his head once, while Bobby started regaling the table with some other tale of gossip from the mansion, in one of his usual attempts to lighten the mood of his friends when they all seemed a little too down for his tastes.

But Ray wasn't really listening. He narrowed his eyes at his roommate, across the table, genuinely worried now. Sure, Berto was wrecked too, but fuck that guy. And anyhow, it as obvious what his problem was. He'd just been dumped, hardcore. Alex, on the other hand, was actually his friend, and this was not the Alex he knew and loved. Happy, grinning, surfer-lingo spewing Alex.

Alex, who had spent the night talking to his brother. He really shouldn't be looking just as upset as Roberto, from that...

But Ray let it drop, for the moment. And for the next hour everyone worked hard to lighten Berto's foul mood, and had fairly decent success. Ray was pretty sure he'd be back to hitting on Amara and Kitty non-stop within the week, really.

But eventually, everyone started getting ready to go, and Alex spoke up, "Look guys, I think I'm gonna stay. I have a lot to do, and I have my cell on me. I'll just call JP to come get me, since it's kinda far to walk on my own. He won't mind."

JP? Oh man. If dude would rather call Jean-Paul than Scott for a ride, there had to be something wrong. Sure, JP was cool. But he was still a complete bitch, and Ray knew he'd mind if they all started expecting him to cart them around everywhere...

But Bobby was looking at Alex like he was speaking Chinese, and beat him to the punch. "Are you fucking kidding? Dude, just come back now, that's insane."

"No, really, I have a lot to do. I'll never get it done at home," the surfer-boy insisted, with yet another forced smile. "It's cool, dude, just go ahead. I'll be home by ten, or Scott will come hunting for me. I swear. I really need to get this done, or it'll pile up and be eating away at my soul by Thursday night."

Sam put a hand on Alex's shoulder, and Ray could see the concern on his face plainly. Sam had also apparently been noticing that something was not quite right with their resident beach bum, despite his own success this evening. Which, of course, was just like Sam. "Ya sure, Alex? Ah hate ta leave ya here..."

"Beat it," Alex laughed, looking at each of them in turn. "I'm cool. Hell, if anyone jumps me, I got ye olde blasters to fend them off, right?"

This caused a round of laughter, and everyone continued packing up to leave.

But Ray held still. Hell, Bobby and Sam could take care of Berto– he was their roommate. But Alex was his, and he wasn't about to leave dude here by himself when he was so obviously fucked up over something. "Yeah, I'll hang here with Alex," he said. "I want more coffee anyhow, or I'll never get this bio done. And it's totally fucking with me, can you help me out with those Punnet Squares?"

Alex looked up at him, through his bangs, and just stared at him for a minute. As if considering something deeply.

Which made Ray wonder if maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe Alex really just needed to be alone...

"Yeah," Alex said, just as he was wondering if he should change his mind and go with the others. "Yeah, I can help. I'm good with genetics."

Bobby shrugged. "Whatever. If you're not back in two hours, we're calling out the Professor.

Another laugh, and much shuffling of papers and coffee cups, but the three boys eventually left. Ray watched them walking down the street outside, Bobby with his arm around Roberto, talking with his other hand and obviously telling some kind of bad joke, and Sam with his hands stuffed in his pockets, smiling to himself stupidly.

So Ray finally had his chance to ask, "What the fuck happened?"

Alex closed his book, and covered his face with his hands, "Just a tough conversation, is all."

Ray considered this for a moment. And considered whether or not he really wanted to dig any deeper, whether or not it was acceptable. Ray didn't like people prying into his past, or his personal life. It was his own business, and everyone else could fuck off. So he generally held to that in dealing with others. Sure, he'd joke around with JM about Berto, shit like that, but if someone made it clear that they didn't want to talk, far be it from him to push them. Fuck that.

But this just might be a special circumstance. Not only was dude his roommate, but he was also one of the three people Ray would consider coming to with any kind of problem or issue he had, if there were every something he couldn't handle on his own, at the Institute. Jeanne-Marie, because she was such a good listener, and had a nice way with words that was pretty disarming, Mr. Logan, because he had a quick, no-nonsense answer for everything, and Alex, because he was as non-judgmental as Ray was, about most issues, and generally just a chill guy.

Which, he kinda figured, sort of obligated him to try and sort Alex out, right?

"What kind of conversation?"

Alex shook his head, face still in hands, "Oh god man, don't even fucking ask. You don't wanna know."

"I do," he insisted, now that his decision was made, taking the last drink of his coffee. "Hell, dude, I'll go buy you another drink if you give up the goods. You're fucking freaking out right now, and Sam saw it too."

Alex looked out from between his hands, "What are you talking about?"

"Dude," Ray laughed, "You're hiding behind your hair, and playing fucking peek-a-boo. Just tell me what he said to you to freak you out."

His roommate shook his head and dropped his hands down to the table. He blew his long blonde hair out of his eyes, like he always did when he was annoyed by it, and looked Ray straight in the eye. "Better?"

Ray nodded, "Yeah, now spill it."

"I told him that I'm gay."

Hrm, interesting. Hadn't seen that one coming. Some fucking friend he was, huh, living with him for six months and not even knowing that! But it made sense, really. Alex was pretty much the only one who hadn't been mad for JM when she'd first come along. And he was all chill, laid back, liberal and shit. And quiet, when it came to girls or sex or whatever. Never made jokes the way the other guys did. Made sense, that he'd keep quiet, if he was holding back something like that for so fucking long. "He flip?"

Alex raised an eyebrow at him.

"Is that a yes?"

"Dude... I'm your roommate. I just told you I'm gay."

Ray raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Yeah, no shit, I was there when it happened. Like I give a fuck. Think I've never kissed a guy?" Sure, he'd never done anything more than kiss anyone of his own sex, and he was definitely into girls, but whatever. Honestly, if he was ever seriously attracted to a guy, he'd totally go for it. Big fucking deal. All the same, to him. Who was he to judge? Who was anyone?

Punk rock, or something. Damn The Man and his categories.

Alex's Adam's apple moved up and down fast, as he swallowed, and he nodded, "Yeah dude, that's pretty much what I thought."

"Fuck your labels dude! You don't know me!" Ray pointed at him, then grinned, just in case the other boy wasn't sure it was a joke. Which it was.

Having heard this a few times from his roommate, Alex shook his head and laughed, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "Damn The Man."

"I take it back," Ray crossed his arms over his chest, still grinning, "You do know me." Well enough to follow his train of thought, anyhow. Funny though, how the more he talked to his classmates at Xavier's this year, the more he realized just how little any of them actually knew about him. Of course, that was his fault, and he was ok with it. But still, Christ. "So Scott didn't like it much?"

"He tried, and he was pretty cool," Alex had obviously moved past his (mildly insulting, really) fear that Ray would have a fit about him being gay, and was now seemingly prepared to fess up. "But his face... I dunno man. He didn't look happy, is all I know."

"Give him time dude. He'll get over it. Scott loves you, man, he wanted you here like... forever. Everyone knew it. Don't worry. He knows you're both lucky to have each other, to have family."

Alex's brow furrowed, and he bit at his lip for a minute. "You don't talk about your family."

"I don't have a family," Ray answered, quickly. Normally, he wouldn't have said it. He hated when people bitched and moaned, and he knew that he was lucky to be alive, really. So he wasn't about to start complaining about his hard fucking knock life. But Alex had just given up a secret, so now he would give one. That was the way it worked, after all. "But dude, he's gonna be fine with it. And if not... fuck him."

"Ray... he's my brother. I can't just say fuck him."

"Alex, Scott is The Man. If he's keeping you down, fuck it. Seriously, dude is a mutant, for Christ's sake. Ask him how he'd feel if he came to you and told you that, and you were all weird about it."

Alex seemed to be considering this carefully, and silently nodded after just a moment.

"But," Ray decided that was enough seriousness for the moment, "that's not the important issue. The important issue is how the fuck I've lived with you for six months and never found this out. How long you been hiding this?"

Alex looked down now, as if he suddenly didn't want to meet his eyes anymore. "Since I was like... twelve or something?"

"You asshole," Ray snorted. "That what you and JP are having pow-wows about?"

Alex nodded, "Just the first time. Most of the time we're just bullshitting, but yeah, we talked about it. That predictable?"

"Oh yeah. Look, you want some more coffee? I don't feel like going back home and dealing with pathetic broken-hearted Roberto, and JM will be in a hell of a mood. And I need to deal with this bio shit. I'm buying."

"No, I got it. What are you drinking?" Alex stood up, now smiling, even if it wasn't his usual outright grin.

"Alright, but I got the beer this weekend."

His roommate raised an eyebrow, digging in his back pocket for money. "We're getting beer?"

You didn't think I'd bring you a bottle opener without expecting you to use it, did you? JP said he'd buy for me, and I believe his exact words were only if you share it with Alex."

Alex laughed aloud, and covered his face with his hand again. "Fuck. That guy..."

Ray shrugged, "He said he felt bad that you had to stay behind this weekend. I said I wanted beer, he said to let you in on it and he'd take his fake and buy for us. I figure you, me, Bobby, Sam, Amara... hell, maybe even Berto, if he can chill the fuck out for a few. We can have us a drinking game to Clerks or Mallrats or something."

Alex kept laughing, inexplicably. "Count me in man. What you drinking?"

"House," Ray told him, deciding it was better not to ask what, exactly, was so funny about JP offering to buy for them. Funny, how everyone who was friends with Jean-Paul seemed to have some sort of weird inside joke with the guy. He figured this was just JP's and Alex's little secret, then.

Whatever. As long as Alex was laughing, that meant he was ok. And that was really about all Ray could hope for. Mission accomplished, roommate rescued from despair.



From the Diary of Jeanne-Marie Beaubier, October 23


Dear Diary,

Today was, in short, a hell of a day. And I mean that in the worst possible way.

First, Roberto was horrible in school. I cannot believe that he behaved like that, right in the middle of the hall, telling me who I should and should not be talking to. It honestly felt good to walk away from him like that. I tried to escape him after school as well, but he caught up to me. We had coffee. And I told him it had to end.

It felt horrible, by then, of course. I've never felt something so awful, knowing that I was hurting someone I care for so much. But it has gone too far. Last time, I let it go too quickly. And all the times before. But he will never understand how it makes me feel to hear his accusations. And I will never understand his jealousy. He says it's not me, it's the boys he doesn't trust. Which is boy-speak for "I don't trust you."

Roberto was my first boyfriend. I was with him because he was beautiful to me. He was sweet and charming. I recognized something in him, something that loved to be free, something beautiful.

But in a way, dating someone for those reasons... you might as well date a painting. I suppose we have both learned much, however. And that means our time was not wasted.

Jean-Paul knew, of course, the moment I came home, and he was smiling at me. Bobby and Ray had apparently told him that Berto and I had fought. But I knew he was feeling smug, he didn't even bother to hide it from me. He has never liked Roberto dating me, never trusted his intentions. He did, to his credit, hug me first thing, and make sure I was alright with the way things had happened. But I pulled away quickly, because I only wanted to be alone, and I could feel that he was happy. And I didn't want to feel that from him.

He felt me close myself off, after that, and got angry with me, told me I shouldn't waste my time being upset over someone like Roberto. Jean-Paul said that Berto didn't care about me, only about himself, and that he was glad I was free of that "narcissistic prick."

I took the opportunity to inform my dear brother, at that point, that he would know all about narcissistic pricks. Not only is he one himself, but he's also sleeping with one.

Needless to say, it did not go over well.

Perhaps the name-calling was a bit much, on my part. But perhaps he should either support me, or stay out my business. It was awful of him to treat Berto the way he did, no matter how the boy upset me at times. Just because Jean-Paul does not approve of someone, it doesn't give him license to terrorize them. Yes, Roberto's intentions may have been suspect, perhaps he was not wrong about everything. But he was not completely right, either. And if my brother continues to behave this way, when and if I find someone else, we will have yet another discussion. And next time, I might not be so nice.

If it weren't for the news of Sam and Wanda's date this Friday, I really think I would be in tears right now, just from the emotional exhaustion of the day. Scott drove us girls back from the coffee shop, where half the mansion ended up tonight, by chance, while the boys stayed with Roberto. I begged her to tell me what was going on with them, while Scott sat in front, dutifully pretending not to listen. Wanda rolled her eyes at me and told me that they were doing homework. I asked her why her hand had brushed against his like that just before she'd left the shop with us, if that was so, and she narrowed her eyes at me in typical Scarlet Witch fashion.

She's really so beautiful when she's angry. Or when she shows any emotion, for that matter.

But eventually, I got her to confess that they will be going to the movies on Friday. She told me that if any of the Brotherhood found out, she would personally hex me into oblivion. I decided not to tell her that Jean-Paul had been so excited to see her and Sam together at the club the other night that he's been prompting Sam to do something about it ever since. And if Jean-Paul knows, that generally means that Pietro knows.

I wish them the very best, and will pray for Wanda. Pray that her brother isn't as hard-headed and rude as mine is about her dating someone. I realize that the chances of Pietro not being a narcissistic prick are slim to non– far worse than Jean-Paul's chances. But I can always hope, for her sake.








+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

AN: I'm feeling mushy. What can I say.


Risty: Sorry to drag it out, but there it was! Not quite resolved, but close enough. Glad you liked the Beaubier conversation-- that was my favorite part too.

Angharad: Glad you liked that! I must admit, almost all of it was stuff that I took directly from my own outings to clubs. Not all of it but... yeah. And there it is. Alex and Scott got to "talk!"

TKD: About the whole Alex/Ray thing... I guess I made it pretty clear here that Ray, while being liberal as hell, pretty much only thinks of Alex as a friend. But hell, who am I to say what's going to happen. They own me, I don't own them. You know how it goes. And yeah, JP is pretty much in denial, and JM was being shallow. I was shallow about my first boyfriend too, I gotta say. I was 14, he was older, cute, and on the swim team with me so I knew what he looked like in a bathing suit. ;)

Akuma no Tsubasa: You're so right, it would've been effing hilarious if Scott walked into the club. I'm pretty sure this is there are going to be two more after this one. One that's a lot of JP/Pietro (not smut, just them), and then another one. There will likely be a companion to this one, that has the extra stuff that doesn't really fit in (a shopping trip, a date or two, maybe even an Alex chapter, since that particular storyline has been much better recieved than I expected.) And definitely a big long monster of a sequel with bad guys and all. Thanks for the faithful reviews, it means so much to me.

Caliente: Sorry about the Draco reference! I like Scott and JP being friends too, I don't know why. Maybe cause I know it could never happen in 616. That's the beauty of Evo. And yay! Hella! I liked the thing with Scott saying not to flirt with his brother. Cracks me up.

peanutbaby: Hahaha. I'm glad you caught that! Thanks so much. I dunno if its bad or good that I write drunk well... maybe I have a problem... ;)

S-Star: Yay you liked the Beaubier conversation! That was the part I wanted to do the most, oddly enough. And here you go, Sam/Wanda. I totally love them for some reason. They're just cute.

Krac: Hey nice to see ya again! Another Samosa fan, wuwu! Yeah Alex and Ray would be fun to watch ;)

Shaman Dani: I am also being particularly romantic, of late. Issues, I guess. Glad you enjoyed!

The Rogue Witch: Nice to see you again too! I liked the religious chapter too, for some reason. And I liked the shifting of gears so fast. I'm sick like that. Smut-Religion-Drunk-Love. The last two weren't such a shift, but you know ;) And yay! It was a good squeak!


3 -Beaubier-

*runs off to work*