Set during Uncanny X-men issue #415

Bobby Drake/Jean-Paul

Iceman/Northstar

Pulchritude and Promiscuity

By Sabra Thimble

I'm lying in a hospital bed under some strongly starched sheets, and all I can think about is his eyes; that's just how far gone I am. Annie has stuck by me on my decisions thus far, but I can tell she seriously doubts my sanity. I mean, come on. Ice Man. Bobby Drake. When I say it to myself, it does sound a bit different, me loving a man like him. He's pretty much my total opposite; where I'm businesslike and reserved, he's loud and honest, where I try to keep people away from me, he lets them in and throws a party. It could never work between us of course, yet here I am between the sheets, thinking about him.

Annie yawns loudly from her spot beside Alex's bed. "I'm going to head downstairs to grab something to eat. You want anything?" I glance over at her and politely shake my head.

"I'm fine, but thanks."

She smiles sadly, understanding, and leaves.

We've gotten pretty close while I've been up here in the infirmary, Annie and I. I think the two of us are pretty much in the same boat; it's no secret about her being in love with Alex, I don't think anybody in the mansion can help but notice the way she looks at him. I can't help but feel sorry for the girl. It's really not likely that Alex will ever wake up; from what I've heard he's been in this coma for a long time, yet she still loves him. I think I'll probably be like that with Bobby Drake forever, just loving somebody who's not even aware I exist. Just thinking about it is like a sick high school romance. I mean, come on! Somebody as influential and powerful as me should be able to get whatever I want, right? Well, Bobby's the one thing I'd give it all up for, and he's like the crow flies, if you get my drift. If I didn't have Annie to talk to about it, I'd go mad, and the same goes for her.

I fluff down into my pillows to sulk a bit, something I've always been good at, believe it or not. Perhaps it is my Canadian charm. Somehow I doubt it. Suddenly my arm flares up in pain, a hiss escaping through my teeth. I remember some painkillers Annie left on my table near the bed and, reaching crazily, I finally manage to snag them after knocking over the glass of water, forcing me to gulp them down dry. 'Next on Jean-Paul's agenda:' I think sourly, 'Lying in a drug-induced haze.' With a loud groan, I flop over onto my stomach and hug the pillow, trying to fall asleep without much success.

A voice floats through the starchy cotton pillowcase and reaches my ears, quiet but getting louder. I lift my face out of the pillow to squint pathetically about the room. "Hey!" I jump at the voice; it's very loud and colored with mild amusement. I realize it's probably on my behalf; I must look like hell.

"You don't have to shout. I'm right here." I struggle to open my eyes, which are growing rather heavy now, thanks to the pills. Suddenly, I recognize who it is, and my eyes go wide.

"Bobby..." I'm at a loss for words, and he regards me with a quizzical expression. I pray he'll think of something to say before I look like an even bigger moron. Thankfully, he speaks.

"Sorry for waking you, but I was hoping we could talk." I blink, owl-like, as the words sink in. 'Talk..' I shake my head to clear the thoughts out and smile at him.

"It's nothing. I wasn't asleep. What is it?" There it is, that sexy grin of his. Thank God I'm not standing up, or I'd be a puddle on the floor by now.

"Well, I just came by to see how you're doing." He looks a bit helpless for a second, but quickly regains his composure. "I mean, you took it for the team, you know what I mean? That kid, there was really nothing you could do."

I smile at him, hoping I don't look too much like an invalid. "I know. The Professor told me the same thing, still, I can't help but think about what he said to me."

Bobby looks at me curiously. "What?''

"He told me that his father was beating him up over a girl. Some insignificant airhead I'm sure, but nonetheless, he liked her, and his father was beating him for it. Not even thirteen years old and his father is beating him. I just..." I pause for a moment to collect myself. "Such hatred from your own father is so wrong." My vision starts to swim, and I mentally curse myself for being so deplorable. Now Bobby will think I'm useless and a wimp. Instead, he brings his thumb up to my cheek and wipes the tears away.

"I know. I wish the same thing, every time I see something like that. I wish I could just wipe the hatred away." He sniffs, and I realize how depressing this is. I scrub at my eyes fiercely and smile colorlessly. "Yeah."

Suddenly the door opens. It's Annie. Seeing us together makes her smile, but she frowns a bit at our sad faces. I gesture vaguely at her, 'It's nothing,' and she nods her head in our direction.

"Well, I'd better get going," Bobby says, stretching his arms over his head. I get a good look at his muscles undulating subtly under his shirt and groan mentally. Sometimes I wonder if he knows I get weak-kneed when he's around and just loves to drive me crazy. I swallow the lump in my throat as he continues talking.

"Well, if you ever want to get out and do something, just let me know. I'd say it's about time you got out of that bed and stopped freeloading off of our pretty nurse, right Annie?" He glances wryly over at her, matching her not-so-subtle wink with one of his own.

I smile at him warmly and snuggle down into the blankets. "Sure. I-I'd love to." I realize I'm stuttering. I've got to get him out of here so I can regain my composure. "I'll see you, Bobby." Walking over to my bed, he gives me a quick yet gentle hug before leaving.

I'm about to get lost in my own happy thoughts when a polite cough brings me back to reality. I glance over at Annie, recognizing the smirk on her face. Here it comes.

"Well!" She grins. "Well what?" I know she wants details, but I'm still too dazed to get gossipy about the whole thing.

"You know what, bucko. What was that all about? And why did you come off looking like a flippin' funeral on a rainy Sunday?"

I let out a long-suffering sigh. "Annie, it wasn't 'about' anything. He just wanted to chat." I'm trying hard to sound innocent here, but I must be failing miserably. She gives me an all-knowing look, and I snort. "You know he's straight."

"No, I don't, and neither do you," she retorts. I will admit, she does have a point there. My hopes start to rise before I quickly squash them. I could never have a chance with a guy like Bobby, not an uptight jerk like me.

"Look, Jean-Paul. If you're ever going to pick up some guys, you've got to start out with a little confidence. You really know nothing about Frosty, so why not get to know him, hmm?" She crosses her arms over her chest and watches me for my response.

"I suppose you're right, but I'm not about to get my hopes up just so I can be let down, you know. Men in my position don't exactly have prolific love lives." I can feel my brow furrowing, and I bring my hand up in an attempt to smooth it out. "I've seen the way he looks at girls, you know. He hardly keeps his jaw off the floor."

Annie points her finger at me. "Hey, he could be bi. You never know."

I wish I could bring myself to believe it, but it would be too good to be true. As for right now, all I know is that my drugs are kicking in and I would like to sleep for a good long time, so with a grateful smile in Annie's direction, I pull the blanket over my head.