Thanks to Joriel, Fury and Ladyamalthea for the praise! And all the reminders of Lance in his boxers…whoa, must go have a cold shower now!
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, still.
The bar hadn't been open when Lance left Bayville and he was surprised to find himself having quite a good time. In spite of the advanced degrees the scientists possessed, most of the talk was no more highbrow than he was used to. Families were discussed, stories about acquaintances exchanged and as the drinks flowed, a few ribald jokes had the group laughing.
It wasn't even hard for him to keep an eye on the exits. There was one way into the bar, one fire escape and a back door that Lance checked was locked, slipping the barman a twenty to make sure it stayed that way. The back door was behind the bar in plain sight though; even without the money it was unlikely that anyone could use it without the whole bar knowing about it. Aside from the scientists, there were only four other groups of people, three of them comprising of middle-aged couples and the fourth being six elderly women, who kept looking over at him and grinning toothlessly. There were three lone drinkers, none of whom appeared to be a threat.
"Look," said Dr Schwartz indicating to the TV above the bar, the volume down so that the patrons could hear the music. "You're on TV again Jean."
Jean turned her head around and smiled at the image of her teenaged self fighting a Sentinel. "They went back a few years to get that."
"That outfit's scandalous," said Dr Schwartz admiringly. "Can I borrow it?"
"You're a pervert," said Jean, taking a swig of her drink. "But sure, why not?"
"So Lance," said Andy. "Now you've caught those guys trashing the lab, I guess you're job here's finished."
"Depends if they're the same ones who attacked Jean," replied Lance. "I might have to be around for a while yet."
He tried not to smirk as he saw the look on Andy's face and at that moment his phone rang. "Excuse me." He rose, heading to a quiet corner where he could talk uninterrupted.
"What did you find?" he asked, keeping an eye on the table where the group was sat.
"Get ready to be disappointed," said Pietro grimly. "They're not our guys. Just run of the mill wannabes. All have alibis for the café attack, and most of them for the church attack. They're not involved with the Friends of Humanity. They just decided that the mutants were getting above themselves."
"I figured as much." Lance wasn't surprised by the news, but he was rather alarmed to find that the idea of staying in Bayville didn't upset him as much as it had done. Not even the idea of folding himself up on Jean's hideously uncomfortable couch for another night made him feel any differently.
"We turned them over to the Bayville police, let hem deal with it. I've got enough to cope with right now." Pietro sounded irritated. "Toad called. Magneto's back."
"Oh great." Lance watched as Jean got up and went to the bar. "Ask him if he knows anything about Creed, then make sure he's not there when I go to the mansion."
"If I had anything to do with it, he wouldn't be there when I got to the mansion."
"Call me if you find out anything."
"No trouble at the bar?"
"Nothing. I know we weren't followed. Maybe we lucked out tonight."
"I'm glad one of us did." Pietro rang off and Lance put the phone away with a frown. They were no closer to finding the culprits than they had been when they first got to Bayville. The last thing he wanted was to look incompetent in front of the X-Men.
He went over to the bar to give Jean a hand carrying the drinks back over to the table. She smiled at him, handing him a tray. "Was that Pietro?"
"Yeah. Those weren't our guys."
Jean shrugged. "I should have known."
"Looks like you'll be putting up with me for a few more days."
Jean cast him a sidelong look. "You don't sound too bothered by it."
Lance shrugged. "Can't change things 'til we find these guys. It's only a matter of time, then I get out of this place."
"You really want to go that badly?"
"What's to stay for? Things haven't changed. Kelly's still determined to run mutants out of town, there are still mobs hanging around and random attacks and people who think we're all out to kill them. I don't know why you stay."
"My friends are here, my job. I don't want to leave Bayville."
"We'll find out who's behind the attacks on the café and the church and whoever blew up your car, but once they're out of the way, some one else will just take their place. And everyone knows about the Institute."
"It won't always be like this," replied Jean as they approached the table. "We can live in peace with humans, I know we can."
Lance frowned as she set the drinks on the table. He wished he shared her optimism, but he doubted that mutants would ever be truly accepted by the general population.
"We were just talking about going on to a club," said Dr Schwarz, chugging half her beer in one. "Up for it Jean?"
Lance was about to tell the others that there was no way Jean was going to a busy club and making his job even more difficult than it already was, when Andy turned to him with a sarcastic smirk. "Unless your bodyguard doesn't think it's such a good idea."
"Sounds like a good idea to me," said Lance, knowing even as he said it that he'd let himself be baited. He suspected that the man harboured a crush on Jean but knew that he didn't stand a chance with her.
And you think you do Alvers? That's a joke.
"Seriously?" Jean looked a bit suspicious of his motives, but wasn't going to argue with this piece of good luck. "Well let's drink up and go!"
"If this club looks like trouble, we're not staying," said Lance quietly to Jean.
"Since when have you been such a worrier?"
"Since I don't get paid if you get blown up," said Lance, more harshly than he'd intended. He was beginning to feel as if she didn't take the threats to her life seriously.
Jean, who took the threat to her life plenty seriously, launched into a joke about a nun and a vicar, smiling to herself as Lance choked on a mouthful of beer when she got to the punch line. She'd always preferred direct action to hiding in the shadows and damned if she was going to change now.
The crowd left the bar and walked down the street toward the club, Lance checking out every shadowy corner and cursing himself for not insisting they went back to the apartment. He thought he'd left the one-upmanship that marked his teenage years behind, but something about Andy made him want to snarl. The man didn't resemble Scott Summers physically, but something about his attitude reminded Lance of his former nemesis, Jean's ex-boyfriend.
Jean grabbed his hand as soon as they walked into the busy nightspot, one that Lance remembered this time. "I feel like dancing, come on!"
"I, uh, don't dance," said Lance uncomfortably. He hadn't checked out the other patrons yet and he although he'd run a background check on all the people she worked with and they'd all come up clean, that didn't mean that he trusted them. He'd played bodyguard in worse situations – a charity bash involving a millionaires daughter had been the ultimate, a bold kidnap attempt in front of over 500 witnesses – but then he'd known what to expect thanks to a tip off and he'd had the rest of the Brotherhood to back him up. If anything happened here, he could expect Jean to try to get involved and Pietro and Wanda to be on the scene quickly only if he could get in touch with them, which was unlikely in the middle of a catastrophe.
"I've seen you," Jean reminded him. "The dance at Bayville High?"
"The monster mash?" Lance remembered it all right. Just as he thought he might get lucky with Kitty, a dimensional rift had opened between them and spewed out a big orange creature, all teeth and attitude. Talk about killing the mood. "That was when I was a kid."
"And now you're old and tired." Jean rolled her eyes and smiled. "One dance, grandpa. I'll go easy on you."
"There's something a girl's never said to me. Fine, one dance…"
"Jean?" Andy showed up suddenly and put his hand on her arm. Lance glared at it as though it were contaminated. "Can I have a word with you?"
"Sure," said Jean resignedly.
"Alone?"
Lance and Andy exchanged glares for a moment, before Jean let go of Lance's hand. "If it's that important."
Andy led Jean to a free table near the dance floor. Lance took the opportunity to check out the club, seeing no potential problems and noting that Dr Schwartz was already drunkenly dancing with a multi-tattooed man. He was probably lucky that Jean didn't try to drink that much – he'd have had to carry her home. Not that it was such an unappealing idea.
Jean grimaced as she realised how sticky with spilt drinks the table was. "What's did you want to talk to me about?"
Andy looked both serious and self-important, a sure sign that she wasn't going to like what he had to say. "I know that this Lance character wasn't some one you chose as your bodyguard yourself, so I took it on myself to check on his credentials."
"Look Andy, I don't need – "
"I know you don't, but just hear me out. I was concerned. He seems like such a thug. So I went on my computer when I got back to my apartment and found out what I could about him."
Jean was lost for words. She couldn't believe that a work colleague, a virtual stranger, had decided it was his right to pry into her private affairs and Lance's past.
"I was right," said Andy, a touch of smugness creeping into his voice. "Before he worked for the Government he was involved in any number of dubious activities. His parents were petty crooks, he was expelled from three different schools and the gang he was with, the Brotherhood, were thought to be behind a series of accidents in Bayville…"
"I already know all this!" Jean was beginning to lose her temper. "I know what the Brotherhood were accused of and I know they were expelled. I was there! I also know that Lance helped us out a lot of times, in spite of everything. And I don't think the company I keep is any of your business and nor is Lance's life. In future, just stay out of it!"
Jean stood up to leave, but Andy rose too and grabbed her arm. "He just disappeared! Him and his mutant buddies just vanished one day, there are no records of them at all after they left Bayville. You don't think that's suspicious?"
"No I don't, considering who they work for," said Jean, furious. "And as for his 'mutant buddies', don't you think that includes me too?"
Lance had noticed the altercation and hurried over to the table. "Is there a problem here, Andy?"
"There won't be once you're exposed for the fraud you are." Andy scowled at Lance, his hand still gripping Jean's arm.
Not breaking eye contact, Lance reached down and grabbed Andy's wrist, applying a nerve grip that Nick Fury himself had taught them. Andy immediately released Jean's arm, his face contorted in pain.
"I think you ought to leave now," said Jean, the words leaving her mouth accompanied by a mental imperative. Still rubbing his painful forearm, Andy turned and left the club without a backward glance.
"I didn't need you to help me," said Jean.
"I know."
Jean sighed. "But thanks anyway."
"It's what I'm here for," replied Lance. "What was his problem? And what was all that about me being a fraud?"
"He seems to think it's his business to check up on you and because he can't hack into your Government record, he thinks you're some kind of spy or something."
"He tried to hack into my records?" Lance began to look pissed off. "Lucky SHIELD cover their tracks well. But I might kill him anyway."
"Just let's forget about him. We can deal with it tomorrow. I'm here to celebrate after all."
"I think the doctor's doing enough celebrating for both of you," said Lance, pointing to where Dr Schwartz had made it onto a podium and was attempting to dance suggestively, managing instead to just look wasted.
"She's always like this," said Jean. "Forget it – she usually does by the morning. Are we gonna dance or what? I need some cheering up now."
Giving up, Lance let himself be dragged onto the dance floor. Jean soon managed to forget about Andy and his paranoid fantasies when she found out that he was actually pretty good. It was a half hour later when she decided that she was thirsty and suggested going over to the bar.
"Sure," said Lance amicably. He'd been enjoying himself too, without losing sight of the other patrons or the group they'd arrived with, most of whom were sat at the table vacated by Jean and Andy earlier in the night, the remaining few having already left. He considered asking if they wanted anything from the bar, then decided against it. They seemed to have forgotten that he and Jean were still there and he was happy to keep it that way.
He put a hand on the small of Jean's back to guide her through the crowd of people between them and their destination. Jean was conscious of its weight as she made her way through the multitude of partiers, enjoying the feel of his skin so close to hers…
At that moment, she gave up trying to deny her attraction to him. He'd changed over the years away, still resembling the boy he'd been but that memory not coming close to the man he was now.
Her problem was discovering if he was attracted to her too. He'd been nothing but courteous towards her, wholly professional about his protecting her and returning her mild flirtations with grumpiness. Yet the night before he'd seemed curious about her life and forthcoming about her own. Maybe there was something there after all.
She was going to find out.
As they stood at the bar, Lance took his hand off her back and ordered their drinks. She stood beside him, trying to decide how she was going to discover if the attraction was mutual. With Scott there had been subtle hints given to each other over time, each of them able to ensure they weren't going to make a fool of themselves before they made a move. With Lance, she had no idea how much time they had. They might have another week, or he might be gone in the morning, having found out who was behind the anti-mutant attacks. And he'd made it clear he wouldn't be back again.
On her other side, she was dimly aware of a couple having an argument of some kind, apparently about the man flirting with another girl. She was too caught up in her own thoughts to take to much notice, watching as Lance pocketed his change and wishing she could think of a way to find out how he felt without resorting to reading his mind, which she had swore she would never do without permission – then the girl gave her boyfriend a shove and he stumbled backward, knocking her rudely sideways. Lance caught her before she could get her own bearings, glaring at the man who hadn't even noticed what he had caused, so intent was he at attempting to reason with his girlfriend, who was trying to storm out of the club.
"It's way too crowded in here," he said, not relinquishing his hold on her waist.
"I have to agree." Jean was glad she hadn't picked up her drink and spilled it all over him. She glanced up at him, noting that he looked concerned about her, searching her face for a sign of distress…
Before she could think about what she was doing, she leaned closer to him and caught his mouth with hers.
For a second she thought he was going to back off. His hands left her waist and she moved her face away from his, already wondering how she was going to explain this one – then he caught her around the waist again with one arm, pulling her closer and claiming her mouth with an intensity she had never experienced before, his other hand pushing into the mane of red hair that cascaded down her back. She kissed him back breathlessly, her own arms wrapping around his neck, the crowd of people around them suddenly unimportant, melting into the background as though they were nothing more than ghosts.
They broke off the kiss, Jean breathing a little too heavily, Lance looking stunned but not letting her go. He took his hand out of her hair, brushing her lip with his thumb before leaning in to kiss her again, no less fiercely than the first. Jean matched it with a passion that was previously unknown to her, feeling heat spread across her body and knowing that she wanted nothing more than to keep kissing him, exploring the sensations he awoke within her…
Unwelcome reality descended with a crash as they separated again, the club seeming louder and more crowded than it had before. Jean had lost the urge to dance, wanting only to get Lance somewhere where they could continue what they had been doing.
"I think I'm ready to leave now."