I don't own X-men Evolution

"...she sighed to herself, and turned the music up. How sweet it was to sit and contemplate death..."

Amara paused, her pen hovering over her writing. This was supposed to be a romance story, not a suicide fiction! But then, her character had good reason; her family hated her because she was a mutant, and she had a seriously messed up love life.

Not that Amara had had any personal experience with either of those dilemmas, but she figured that since she lived in a mansion where four out of five students had been exiled by their own kin, she should have a pretty good idea of what that was like. And as for the love life—she read romance novels all the time, didn't she?

She settled back to writing, looking irritably up at the sky once more as yet another drop of water splashed onto her jeans. It had been going like that for the past hour; random drops falling every five minutes or so. Still she sat in apprehension of the rain finally making up its mind to come down once and for all.

Another drop splashed down.

Another.

Another.

Amara groaned. Looked like the time to get going. Soon the rain was a gentle patter as she folded up her papers and jammed them into a pocket of her jeans to try and keep them dry. The maple tree held off the worst of it, but she knew that the small shelter wouldn't last for long.

She decided to make a break for it, took a step, and then stopped as realization struck her. She was wearing a white t-shirt!

Maybe if she sprinted fast enough she could dodge the raindrops. Yeah right. She was no Quicksilver, and she doubted that even he could go that fast. Best just to make a break for it before the rain got worse and hope for the best.

She took a deep breath and started running, head down, into the steadily increasing downpour.

St John reached the park at a leisurely stroll, scowling up at the sky as it finally decided to let loose. Good thing he had a jacket on over his white t-shirt. He grimaced as he realized that Amara probably would have gone home by now, or at least started out.

Wait a second... The familiar figure of a girl came running out of the small wooded area, her head down, oblivious to everything around her. Pyro's eyes lit up, and he grinned psychotically as he started to sprint.

This afternoon could be quite fun after all.

Amara ran through the park, aiming for the next little stand of trees that was closer to the road, figuring that the slight protection from the rain was a bonus. She kept her head down, studying the path in front of her to avoid any roots or branches that might trip her up.

She ran under the shade of the trees, noting with disgust that the rain was coming down so hard that the foliage protection was next to non-existent. She kept running through the trees until—

Thud!

Her head hit something hard, and she staggered backwards from the force of the blow. She was about to end up in the mud when she felt arms wrapping around her waist to pull her snug against a warm body. She looked up and groaned.

"Wot? Y'ain't happy t' see me?"

St John grinned. It had been too easy to intercept the girl, though he had been taken off guard by the way she had slammed into his stomach so hard. He looked down at the girl in his arms, who was staring at him with five kinds of murder in her eyes. Uh-oh.

"What are you doing?" Amara kept her voice quiet, but anger at being caught by surprise lent it incredible force. "Let me go this instant, Pyro." She made his name sound like a curse.

He kept up his happy demeanor. "I don't think I'll let ya go this easy. Besoides, I sort of loike this situation." He hugged her closer, pressing her front into his own with an iron grip.

She squeaked a bit as he pulled her even closer, his warmth penetrating to her through his sodden jacket. Just great. After all her running she managed to get her shirt soaked anyways. Perhaps it was a good thing he was holding her this close.

Pyro smiled to himself as he felt her relax marginally in his arms. Now what did he do?

"Let me go." Well, solved that problem. Argument time!

"No."

"Please let me go?"

"Make me, 'Mara." He chuckled. Alliteration...so fun.

"Well fine then." Ooh, that was unexpected. "Tell me why you're doing this."

Yikes. Hard question there. Why was he doing this? Hugging a girl he barely knew a day after sharing the most passionate kiss he had ever had with her. Oh yeah, he didn't need a reason. He was crazy, remember?

"The way I see it, I don't think I need a reason. You did run into me after all. Not the other way 'round. And I'm just 'elping ya get back on yer feet, is all." Heheheh.

"Well I think I've got my balance back by now. Thanks for catching me, and I'm sorry for running into you. There. Can I go?"

"Crikey, Sheila. Wot am I, your mother? No need to sound so prissy."

"I've already told you," she gritted her teeth, her voice getting dangerously quiet, "my name is Amara Aquilla, Princess of Nova Roma. Now get your hands off of our Royal Person."

A princess? When did that happen? And what was with pulling rank? But if that was the way it was gonna be...

"I don't have my hands on ya, Amara Aquilla. Just me arms." He released her, but then immediately had her back in his arms, with his right hand splayed out on her lower back and his left one pressing between her shoulder blades so that she was forced to lean onto his chest. "This is havin' me hands on ya, Amara."

Don'tpanicdon'tpanicdon'tpanicdon'tpanicdon'tpanicdon'tpanic. The rain beat incessantly on it's way downwards, drumming out a ceaseless tattoo.

Amara's mind raced: What would Tabby do in this kind of situation? Most likely just seduce him. Never mind, that was out of the question.

Okay then...what would Rogue do? Most likely zap him with her powers, or pull a couple of fighting moves on him. Rogue was good at that sort of thing, but she had been training for far longer than Amara had, and Amara was not so confident with her hand to hand combat skills.

Amara placed her hands on Pyro's chest, pushing him away with all her might. She managed to get several inches in between them before making the mistake of tilting her head back to look in his eyes.

"Oh—"

Whatever expletive she might have said was cut off by Pyro's lips on hers once again. Only this time, her mouth had been partially open, and she stiffened has he made full use of that advantage. What was he doing? Didn't he know that she could tell Mr. Logan, and then he would have no hope of ever seeing another morning? Didn't he know...

Her train of thought stopped then as she lost herself entirely within Pyro's kiss.

A/N: Pyro you dog! Making poor Amara all confused like that; you don't even have a clue what your doing yourself!

Foxy-Glove: I have flare? Cool! I hope I sort of clarified what Amara was writing...I wasn't really sure myself. She's trying for a romance, only every once in a while she breaks out into spontaneous (and according to the ever-so-encouraging St John, bad) poetry. I'm in your fav's? Thank-you!

Ima Super Mute Ant: Yup, I love the name. And could you send me that link again? I think it's broked :), I just get one of those annoying "This page cannot be displayed" things.