Cotton Sheets, Country Music and Clam Chowder
Summary: This will be a Bobby/Sam slash fic (BAM), eventually. I'm hoping that's enough to draw you in, but if it isn't, I promise danger, angst and kissing. Yay! Rated PG, 'cause Bobby and me (And Ray) say some bad words. But not Sam, because Sam's a good boy.
Chapter Summary: Bobby and Sam play Scrabble. Roberto storms out. Ray makes snide remarks. Bobby gets jealous and scowls a lot.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. Someone else does, probably Marvel or WB. Let's move on.
Author Notes: My writing is based primarily on Evolutions. I may or may not stay true to comic canon.
Chapter Three: Scrabble
Bobby Drake had a passion for video games. He was the undisputed champion of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters and, possibly, all of Bayville. Unfortunately, the video consol and games had been destroyed in the destruction of the mansion and Bobby found himself playing far more traditional games, such as Scrabble, with Sam.
And Sam was kicking Bobby's ass.
"Zephyr! That's not a word!"
"Zephyr: a light breeze. Dare to challenge me?"
"Nah." Bobby muttered, writing down the points, "Lousy … southern … bastard's … points."
"Don't forget the triple word score and double letter score for the z."
"I know. I know. Stupid, lousy, triple word score."
Bobby took moment to study the board before adding an "ing" to journal.
"That's not a word."
Bobby decided not to give this one up without a fight. "'Journaling: To write in ones journal.' The professor uses it all the time."
"Well, it's still not a word."
Roberto, who had been reading in the corner, suddenly got up in a huff and stormed out. Shocked by his sudden exodus, Sam and Bobby could only blink.
"Passive-aggressive much?" Bobby scowled, just as Ray came into the den with a bowl of pop corn. "What's up with him?"
"He's been like that ever since Rahne went home, moody and shit." Ray answered, settling himself on the couch, getting a bird's eye view of the Scrabble board, "You should try sharing a room with him." There was a pause as Sam and Bobby considered this and Ray studied the Scrabble board, "Journaling isn't a word."
Sam can't help but smile triumphantly as Bobby scowled, taking his letters back. Then after a moment, puts down "gin".
Sam barely has to think before he adds "ism"to journal.
Bobby concentrated on his words, as if to force a word to appear. But he got nothing. "I'm glad Jubes isn't here to see this. I'd never hear the end of it, getting beaten by a hick" He said, trying to lighten his own frustration with jabbing humor.
Sam doesn't mind being called a hick, especially by Bobby who doesn't say it to be hurtful. Besides, Sam was what he was. And Sam knew Bobby didn't mean it about Jubilee either. Bobby missed Jubilee as much as Roberto missed Rahne, maybe even more. Jubilee had been Bobby's partner in crime. If Bobby was up to some reckless, irresponsible act, Jubilee was right there with him and vise versa.
And Sam couldn't help but miss them both, especially Rahne. Jubilee had made life exciting around here. Rahne had always up for a game of Scrabble and she was always a challenge. Not that he minded playing with Bobby. Except that playing with Bobby was different. It was more about teasing and joking and laughing at Bobby's mumblings than it was about winning.
Ray leaned over Bobby's shoulder and placed "Quartz "down on the board for Bobby.
Bobby would have said something but for the first time during the game, Sam actually had to think a moment before putting down his next word. So, for the rest of the game, Bobby just sat back and watched. In the end, Ray and Bobby still lost but not by much and Sam got the feeling that if Ray had been playing from the beginning, it wouldn't have been such an easy victory.
"Wanna play three-way?" Sam offered, sliding the tiles off the board, and blushed as be realizes what he just said. Luckily, no one seems to notice.
"Nah," Bobby said, getting up, "You two play. I have homework."
"Homework?" Sam and Ray didn't buy that.
"Okay, comic books to read. See you at supper."
As Bobby left den, he could hear Sam and Ray talking and Bobby scowled. He hadn't known Ray was good at Scrabble. Ray didn't seem the type. Bobby kinda wished he was good at Scrabble, at least good enough to play against Sam. It was obvious Sam was bored playing with Bobby which made Bobby feel… well, he wasn't sure. He just knew he wanted Sam to have as much fun winning as he had been having losing. At least until Ray had shown up.
Bobby slunk upstairs, feeling … rejected. Stupid Scrabble. Stupid Ray. Stupid Sam, too.
Stupid me, he added, annoyed at himself for no particular reason as well. Though he has no particular fondness for Scrabble, he really had nothing against Ray. Ray's a pretty cool guy. And so was Sam, just in another sort of way.
It was funny. One would think Bobby would rather hang out with Ray and maybe so, if it was a choice between Ray and Roberto. But between Ray and Sam, Sam would win. Maybe it was because, like Bobby, Sam was so competitive. You wouldn't think so but Sam loved a good game of whatever. Even at the stuff he wasn't good at, like say, video games. Man, Bobby wished he still had his Xbox. They always had fun playing that, even though it would be Bobby whupping Sam's ass.
Bobby cringed at the particular wording (Stupid, dirty teenage mind) of that thought as he reached the top of the stairs. His bedroom door, only a few feet away, was wide open. His fault. Sam wasn't prone to leaving the door open.
Bobby and Sam's room was a study of opposites. On the left, Bobby's bed was unmade, his homework was scattered on his desk, floor and any other available surface and his clothes were separated into clean and dirty piles which ended up one big pile so often that Bobby had to smell his clothes to decide if they were dirty or not.
In contrast, Sam's side looked neat. His bed was made, the clutter on his desk was localized, and his clothes, though not necessarily folded, were in his drawers and closet. It was as if there was a line dividing the two sides and Bobby's mess seemed to be constantly invading Sam's territory.
Stupid Sam. So neat, and kind, and good at board games. Scowling, Bobby stepped over onto Sam's side of the room and leaned against Sam's dirty clothes hamper, "accidentally" deliberately knocking it over, spilling clothes all over the floor. Then he went over and de-alphabetized Sam's CD's, just for the hell of it.
The passive-aggressiveness of it all made him feel a bit better and he went back over to his side, turning on the stereo before pulling out a comic book and plopping down on his bed to read. He was just about to turn on the stereo full blast when the door opened and Sam stepped in.
The first thing he did was right the hamper and replace the dirty clothes. Figured.
"Where's Ray?" Bobby huffed, looking over the top of his comic.
"Got in trouble or something." Sam said with a shrug, "Wolverine wanted to see him for a special session."
Even though Bobby wasn't feeling particularly pleasant to Ray at the moment, he found himself sympathizing. Special Logan sessions were never fun.
Bobby shifted his gaze back to the comic but, sensing Sam hadn't moved, he lifted his eyes once again. Sam was still standing, leaning against the hamper, looking like he wanted to say something but not knowing how to form the words.
"Yes?"
"I was wondering, can I help you with your homework?" And he smiled.
Bobby's scowl, hidden behind the covers of "The Amazing Adventures of Superman", melted away and he sighed in an exasperated but friendly way. "Yeah, sure."
Sam smiled as he jumped onto Bobby bed and picked up the first comic that found its way into his hands. Internally, he sighed with relief. It was good that Bobby wasn't moody like Roberto. It was good that Bobby was acting like Bobby because he hadn't been, if that made any sense.
Sam had hopedeveryone's change in behavior had been temporary, that once they moved out of the bunker and settled back down in the mansion, everything would go back to normal. But it hadn't. Jubilee and Rahne were gone. Roberto was all snappy. Ray was playing scrabble. And Bobby had been acting plain weird. Two weeks ago, Sam had found Bobby inHIS bed, for God's sake!
Sam shifted at the memory and without even looking up, Bobby snapped, "Don't even think of changing the station."
The radio, of course. Bobby hated country. Sam smiled. At least that hadn't changed.
End of Chapter Three
End Notes:
Now that we've gotten that out of the way, we can get to the good stuff. More exciting stuff. Stuff that may actually verge of PG-13, so the rating has been changed accordingly. See you in the next chapter. - Catalyst
"Why was there bacon in the soap?"
"I made it myself!"
- Zim and G.I.R. (Invader Zim, Rise of the Zit Boy)
