St. John adjusted the new uniform he had been issued. It was a little loose around the neck. It was fair decent, though, and he smoothed his hands over it, enjoying the soft leathery feel in his palms. The red and orange blended together, making him look like a living flame, and the flame-retardant insulation was good quality but light. He preened a little in the mirror and called over his shoulder. "So, what do you think, Dom?"
Dominic Petros was lying idly on his bed, the other side of the room from St. John's, turning the pages of his friend's latest romance novel. His brown hair fell into his eyes and he pushed it away violently. He snorted. "Do women really talk like this?"
"Some of them." He walked over and posed as Dom looked up from the book. "Come on. Look at me. What do you think?" He stretched his arms wide.
Dom rolled his eyes. "You're beautiful. Believe me. Now, can I keep on with this? Someone here insisted I read it and give him my opinion, and I'd like to get it over with this century." He returned to the book, his green turtleneck wrinkling as he moved back into place.
St. John sat on the side of the bed. "Speaking of someone here, I found out that there's been a new arrival."
Dom turned a page.
"You'd probably want to know who he is."
Dom didn't blink an eye.
"Yes, you probably would."
Dom closed the book and sat up with a resigned expression, leaving the book on the end table next to his bed. "Let me guess. You're not going to leave me alone unless I ask."
His eyes dancing with mischief, St. John nodded. "Try guessing first."
He sighed. "Blob's come to join us."
St. John laughed. "Nope. Good one, mate. Wonder if we could bring him in."
"No." Dom's flat denial touched off more laughter.
"Try again. Really." He leaned forward eagerly. Dom raised an eyebrow.
"No. You tell me."
He leaned back and casually ran his fingers through his hair. "Jean-Paul Beaubier's joined the X-men's happy little family here."
He felt Dom heave another sigh. "That's great. Haven't I already told you that, despite your desire to have everyone settled around you, I don't need your help?"
He shrugged and grinned at Dom, whose face showed exasperation but, perhaps, some interest as well…. "Just thought I'd mention it."
"It's been mentioned. Now, drop it." Dom turned away and opened the book again, brown eyes dropping to the page before him. "Going somewhere, all dressed up like that?"
St. John arose and straightened his collar again. "Was thinking of finding Misty and seeing what's up with the team."
Dom nodded, his eyes never leaving the book. "Let me know what she tells you."
"Sure thing, Dom." He carefully closed their door behind him and started jauntily walking down to Misty's room in the basement.
************************
Once Pyro had left, Dominic put down the book and frowned. Of course he knew of Jean-Paul Beaubier. Who didn't? Most famous mutant out there, he was.
But here? Right here? Not part of their group, of course, but living in the same place made him accessible …
No. No way. St. John might believe in fairy tales, but Dominic believed in reality. Reality didn't work this way. Being gay didn't mean anything any more than not being gay did. He'd met his share of gay assholes in his time.
Who cared if the guy was gorgeous? And quite available? It didn't matter. They probably wouldn't like each other, anyway.
He picked up the book again and concentrated on it hard, squelching all inclination to replace the heroine, red-haired and strong, with someone else. Besides, it wasn't fair to Py if he did.
Unconsciously, Dominic Petros was humming his favorite song as he read. "Tainted Love."
************************
Misty's room was empty. Of Misty, that is. The room itself held oodles of flowers, cards, medical equipment, furniture, lamps, as well as the bed to the left side. On the bed rested a small blue toy, a vaguely humanoid creature with a huge round nose. Curious, he picked it up. There was a small tag attached to its neck with a blue ribbon. "To my mother, a bamf of her own, from her son the Nightcrawler."
Cute. He chuckled a little, then frowned. Where would Misty be? If he were Misty, able to finally walk about, he would go … ah. Yes.
He headed out of the room, a man with a purpose. Now, if only Misty were alone when he found her!
**********************
The kitchen was lit by the golden late afternoon sunlight. It shone on the two people at the table, holding hands. "I am surprised that you were willing to say it out loud to them."
"Why not?" The man stretched, his hair gleaming with hints of gold. "Already told Jean I was sleepin' with you."
She gave him a frustrated, yet amused, look. "That was a joke. This was serious, in front of my family."
He shrugged and put his arm around her, pulling her closer. "I was serious. Doesn't matter who sees it." He took in a large breath through his nose. "Doesn't matter to you, either, right?"
She changed positions, lying her bright head on his shoulder, rusty locks spilling over his flannel collar. "Not as such. I confess some unease before I knew what your reaction would be and disquiet at Kurt's demands."
He gently took a piece of her hair, stroking it as he spoke. "Elf just had to sort it out in his head. He'll come around some time."
"I sincerely hope so." She looked over at him as he leaned in and kissed her, softly turning her head to meet his with just the tips of his fingers.
Pyro stood, stunned, in the doorway behind Mystique and Logan. He was staring, but he didn't realize it. He had time for one thought. Now, I know that I got it right in my books, he mused. When the hero sees the heroine with someone else, his heart does break.
He turned to go as the lovers separated. There was no hope for him now. He knew the way that people in love looked, and the two of them had that look in spades.
Logan said, quietly, not looking at him, "Gonna go, or gonna be polite and speak up, Allerdyce?"
St. John pulled himself together as the lovebirds turned to look at him, putting on his usual amused expression. It felt plastic and ridiculous, but if it was, neither Misty nor Logan let on. "Just don't want to intrude on a private moment, mate. Goes against my nature."
Mystique raised her head proudly, twisting around to see him. "Certainly not. What can I do for you, St. John?"
He smiled and repeated the cover story he'd told Avalanche earlier. "Just wanted to see if there was something going on for the team tomorrow. We really should start working together." It was possible to keep going with a broken heart. He'd have to incorporate this whole experience into his next story.
"Not that soon. I will begin having regular team practices in about a week or so. In the meantime, I suggest you become familiar with each other and the rest of the X-men in a more informal way, by taking meals and Danger Room workouts together." Misty looked cool and collected now. She was lovely.
He nodded. "Right. See you around, then." He tore his eyes from the couple and walked out as graciously as he could. Maybe his first attempt to get to know his new teammates should be in the local bars while he got rip-roaring drunk. He left, considering who to ask and who would know the best places to get a good stiff drink.
*****************************
I watched until the fire guy was gone. He smelled wrong somehow. Mystique sighed. "I fear we shall have many more such encounters."
"Hm?" I looked her over. She stretched out her neck, turning from one side to the other.
"I do not believe most people are ready to accept us as a couple. St. John's reaction will probably be typical."
Maybe that was why the guy had a funny scent. Sure. "Guess so." I put my arm back around her. "You mind?"
She smiled and snuggled into my side. "Not really. I can understand their surprise. I will tolerate it."
Good. I unwound and let her warmth sink into me. "Logan?"
"Yep."
"Would you show me your quarters?"
"Why?" I was playing with her hair again. I found a gold strand and held it to the light.
"I wish to see where you reside. You have already seen my room numerous times." She was hidin' something again. It didn't sound important, though, so I let it slide this time.
"Sure." I pushed her out of the kitchen and over to the elevator. "It ain't much, but it's mine."
"I would wager you say that to all the women you take there."
Mystique? Teasin' me? I bared my teeth at her. "Every time." She gave me an innocent look as the elevator door opened and Chuck wheeled out. He nodded. "Mystique. Logan."
I pushed her in. She said, formally, "Charles." I didn't say anything. Figured I didn't have to. He turned around and watched us as the door closed, one eyebrow slightly raised.
Heh. Poor old Chuck was wonderin' what was goin' on.
Let him.