Chapter Three

One Angel Short of Heaven

"No stranger to you
Thinking the unspeakable I'm craving to do."
- Rosetta Stone

Does is it always rain in England?

We'd landed in London at an ungodly hour of the morning, and when we got off the jet it was raining. We set up base underneath a fish and chips shop that had gone out of business. Kurt assured us that no real estate agents or anything would be swinging by - the building was owned by a friend of his.

While we were setting up equipment, it was raining. When we sent Jubilee out to find us some coffee, it was raining; she returned with a soggy cardboard tray and lukewarm java. And while we sat around and worked out the last details of our plans, it was still raining.

"Alright," Warren was saying as the drumming of rain against the dark windows of the cellar drove me insane. "So Stacy, you're clear on what you have to do?"

Stacy smiled. "Don't worry your pretty little head about me," she said. Warren nodded curtly.

"If you run into any trouble," Kurt started and she cut him off with a shake of her head.

"I know, I know. I'll stay in contact so you know exactly what's going on."

Kurt relaxed a little, nodding. Stacy had the tough job, really, since she had to go in without much backup. Jubilee would be masquerading as a fan as well, but chances were Stacy would be the one to wind up backstage. Alone.

Warren and Kurt were both too easily recognizable, so they got to hold down the fort and play cavalry if the need arose. In the event Jonothon was picked up by Ashbury to go on tour, as we were hoping, I was going to go undercover as a roadie. This suited me just fine, since it meant I didn't have to adopt a vastly different persona and, more importantly, I could wear my own clothes.

There was really only one thing that was bothering me about this entire assignment, and she had blonde hair and blue eyes.

For some bizarre reason, Warren and Kurt had decided to have Paige pose as Jonothon's manager. To me, this was obviously a BAD idea, since they'd be interacting with each other a lot, but Warren argued that not only did Paige have a better grasp of the situation with the Ashbury guy but she could also pull off a professional manner better than Jubilee or I.

Which, I have to admit, were valid points. It didn't change the fact, however, that the two of them seemed to be having issues with the decision themselves. As Warren went over procedures I knew by heart already, I watched the two of them sneak troubled glances at one another and wondered for the hundredth time if they just hated each other or if there was some sort of horrible regret at work there.

Me? Jealous? Of course not. Concerned, maybe, but not jealous.

"Bobby?"

I blinked and turned, aware I hadn't been paying the slightest attention to Warren. "Uh, yeah?"

Warren frowned and leaned closer, dropping his voice a bit. "You need to focus, Bobby," he told me, like I was some unreliable newbie.

"I'm fine, Warren," I said, maybe a little more snappishly than I'd intended. "I'm just jetlagged. Are we about done here?"

He nodded, watching me with an expression bordering closely on cautious, which I found odd. "Yes, everything's been pretty much covered."

"Great," I said and grabbed my jacket off the back of a chair. "I'm starving. You want me to go pick up some stuff..?"

Kurt, perched nearby on the back of another chair, waved a hand. "Nein, Robert," he said. "I personally intend to go out and have something to eat in a restaurant with central heating."

"All that blue fur and you're still cold?" I asked, sauntering across the room to where Jono was moodily examining a magazine containing an interview with Ashbury. "Amazing." I tapped Jonothon on the shoulder. He looked up, face a bit startled.

*Wot?*

"Hungry."

*Good fer you.*

"I have no idea where I am. You're my native guide!" I smiled broadly, hyper-aware that everyone was watching us and pretending not to. What was supposed to be casual was starting to feel like a grotesque piece of drama.

For a moment I thought he was going to tell me to 'sod off' and therefore give everyone in the room reason to think the happy couple were fighting, but he shrugged and put down the magazine instead. *Roit. Come on.* He strode across the room without glancing around and I followed, wishing somebody would talk.

Went up the stairs and out the back entrance and was promptly drenched by the torrential downpour England calls weather.

"Ahhh, shit," I muttered, hunching my shoulders. Jono seemed not to notice the rain in the slightest.

*Wotcher want?* He asked as we walked down the street, me ducking under any awning that presented itself.

I glanced around, water dripping into my eyes and making everything blurry. Made out the familiar sign of the Golden Arches.

"Thank you, Ronald," I muttered and pointed at the restaurant. "I was afraid I'd have to choke down steak and kidney pie or something equally revolting."

Jonothon rolled his eyes at me, insulted on behalf of every English person that ever lived, but he got the door for me anyway.

The McDonald's smelt of grease and wet clothes, which wasn't exactly an appetizing combination. Luckily I have the stomach of steel, so I didn't lose my appetite and was able to order a couple of Big Macs. Mmm. My arteries hate me, but I figure if I drop dead from a heart attack in the middle of fighting Magneto it'll make a great punchline.

Settled into an achingly bright yellow booth and dug in while Jono watched me with decided apathy. After devouring one of the burgers I flicked the paper wrapper my straw had been sealed in at him. "Hey," I said. "You okay?"

Jonothon shrugged. Sometimes I wish I'd fallen for a passionate, outspoken Italian or something. Then I remember how hairy all the Italian guys I've met have been.

"Okay, fine. You're fine. That's great. Glad we had this little talk." I shoved some fries in my mouth before jabbing a finger at him. "Look, Jono, if you're having issues about Paige then we should clear them up before the assignment, okay? That's all."

*I can keep em separate from the'job,* Jono told me.

My mouth felt oddly dry. I think Mc D's actually injects its fries with salt.

"Great," I said and found I couldn't think of anything else to say.

Jonothon watched me finish my meal, his head cocked at a slight angle like he was studying me. When I was finished and wiping my hands on a napkin he reached across the table and touched my forearm briefly. *Bobby,* he said.

"Yeah?"

*Don't worry.*

I smiled woodenly. "I'm not."

We spent the night sleeping on the world's most uncomfortable cots, and my dreams were filled with the sound of rain. I woke up with a stiff neck to the sound of Warren talking officiously on his cell phone.

"Morning," Paige greeted me as I stumbled across the room.

"Merghle," I replied.

Paige was already dressed and ready to go by the looks of things. She had on a smart business suit and her long blonde hair was pulled back in a complicated knot for a more 'professional' look. She was even wearing her glasses.

"Cute specs, Guthrie," a sleep-clogged voice declared. Jubilee. She yawned expansively and scratched lady-like at her stomach. "Hungry." I nodded in agreement.

"Stacy and Jono went out to pick up breakfast," Paige told us. She frowned. "I really think Stacy ought to have worn a coat or… something."

"Her asscheeks hangin' out?" Jubilee asked without much interest. I snickered and decided to go upstairs and use the bathroom before I died of ureic poisoning.

By the time I got back downstairs Jono and Stacy had returned with a collection of fresh, hot pastries. "I would have brought coffee," Stacy explained as I devoured my share of the food, "but Mr. UK-Idol here insisted on tea."

Jonothon favoured Stacy with a snotty look and handed me a Styrofoam cup. I sipped it experimentally and found it hot, sweet and strong. "Thanks," I said and Jono nodded.

*Five sugars, like usual,* he said nonchalantly.

I noticed Jubilee was watching us and grinning around a mouthful of food. "What?" I asked, trying not to sound accusatory.

"Nuffin'," she said and chewed, still smiling a little. "It's just bizarre to see you guys, you know, acting like a couple--"

"Jubilee," Paige interrupted. I thought her voice sounded a little strained, but maybe that was just my imagination.

"What?" Jubilee demanded.

Paige shot a quick glance at Jono. "They're not… Look, we've just got more important things to discuss, alright?" Jubilee opened her mouth to protest but Paige plunged ahead. "Warren, is everything set up for the try-out this afternoon?"

Stacy's crack about Jono being UK Idol was actually pretty close to the truth: Ashbury was holding a glorified talent contest in hopes of finding a new mutant act. The only requirement for entry was that you had to be able to prove you had the X-Factor, a detail that had caused a few human rights groups to protest loudly. However, Ashbury's people were claiming affirmative action so it didn't look like they'd get in trouble for discrimination.

Me, I was hoping that mutants-only would mean a shorter line-up and less competition. After all, we had no guarantee that Jono would impress Ashbury. I mean, he impressed me, but I'm a CPA, not a rockstar. And as Jonothon pointed out, I still think the Beach Boys are cool.

"Yes Paige," Warren replied after flipping his cell shut. "You and Jon just have to show up." He looked at Jono. "Are you ready for this? That is, do you have your material ready?"

Material. Oh man, Warren, make him sound like a stand-up comedian. And you know, I can SO see Jono delivering one-liners to a roomful of laid-off drunks; Didjer 'ear the one about the two fish in a tank? One says ter the other, "You drive. Oi'll man the guns!"

Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk.

*Yeah Worthington, don't worry yer pretty lil 'ead about me,* Jono said and waved a hand at Warren irately. Jubilee snickered, her mouth full again. Must take a lot of fuel to maintain that level of manic energy.

"Hey," I asked suddenly as a thought occurred to me. Everyone paused and looked at me expectantly. "Is it still raining?"

Everyone was quiet.

"Drake?" Stacy asked, mock-sweetly. "Hear that drip-drip noise? That's puddle forming around your boyfriend's feet! Of COURSE it's still raining!"

"Oh."

Hm, yes, Jono was in fact soaking wet. Had a perfectly clear mental image of peeling wet jeans off his long, pale legs. Grinned stupidly and shoved another pastry into my mouth to hide it.

Warren looked at me oddly and then turned back to Jono. "I'm not worried. I'm just making sure. A lot of this mission depends on your 'talent' here, after all."

Jubilee grinned and bounced to Jonothon's side, slinging an arm about his waist. The look on Jonothon's face was priceless - "I've grown a buzzing yellow tumour!" it seemed to say.

"Warren, babes," Jubilee said. "Jono's gonna knock em dead."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps not the best choice of words," he said gently. With that happy little reminder, we finished the rest of our breakfast in relative silence.

I was busy with Warren all morning, so I didn't see Jonothon again until nearly eleven. He was due to head out with Paige to this talent-scout thing and of course he was locked in the bathroom upstairs. I was recruited to tell him to hurry up.

"Jono?" I hollered after banging on the door. "You're gonna be late!" No reply so I hammered on the door again. "Jon-"

The door swung open and I nearly smacked him in the face. He gave me a withering look and moved past me.

Me? I stared. Open-mouthed gawk kind of staring, like a hillbilly seeing his first UFO.

Leatherleatherleather!

Black leather pants with these weird buckles going down the sides and these massive boots, also buckle-laden. Jesus, he must have gained thirty pounds in just metal. He had his long jacket slung over one shoulder and around his waist…

"Muh," I said, and tried again. "Jono?"

He stopped and turned, one eyebrow raised in question. Yeah, there was something definitely odd about that THING there…

"What is that?" I asked, floundering a hand at the leather doohicky he was strapped into.

*Wot? Oh, this?* He gestured. His arms were pale and bare and I wanted to nibble them. *S'a corset.*

Ah. Knew I'd seem something like it before. Emma. No boob-cups on Jono's, though.

*Well, really more of a waist-cincher, I s'pose,* he was saying. I walked towards him and put a hand on the garment in question.

Leather. Oooh.

Looked up after a moment and found myself staring into a pair of highly amused brown eyes. This time said eyes were rimmed with smudgy charcoal stuff.

It occurred to me I hadn't had any Jono-time since we'd left the States, and I wasn't likely to get any in the near future if all went as planned.

So I slipped my arms around him and pulled him to me.

*Thought I was goin' ter be late?* Jonothon asked, dropping his coat to the floor.

"Yeah," I admitted and refused to let go when he moved a bit. Jonothon hooked his arms around my neck and nuzzled close. Drunk on contact, I turned my head and kissed the side of his face, his ear, squirming lower so I could kiss the leather around his neck until I reached his shoulder, which I bit.

*I gorra go,* he reminded me gently. I looked up at him.

"Now?"

*Yeah.*

I blew hair out my face with an irritated snort. "Yeah, okay." Disentangled myself from him reluctantly, figuring we'd better stop the cuddling before Warren or Paige decided to check on us. Hugged him again, feeling a weird knot tie itself in my solar plexus at the thought of Paige. "Good luck," I said.

*Thanks.* He picked his jacket up and slung it back over his shoulder. He smiled at me over his shoulder before he descended the stairs and for some reason it hurt to smile back.

I spent the rest of the day driving Warren crazy.

Warren and I had absolutely nothing to do besides sit in the base and wait for Jubilee or Stacy to report in, or for Jono and Paige to return with news of the audition. Kurt stayed surprisingly busy - he said he was gathering information but I think he was really just calling up old contacts and gabbing to them for kicks.

That left Warren and me alone in a basement on a rainy day together. We played cards for a while, and Warren read the business section of the London Times while I read the funnies and attempted the crossword puzzle. (I gave up on "belching with the taste of undigested meat." It started with an N. I dunno.)

But after a few hours I got bored. Really, really bored.

"Stop it," Warren growled, not looking up from the magazine he was reading.

"Stop what?" I answered mildly. My finger hovered about half an inch away from the side of his face at eye-level.

"Bobby," he said threateningly.

"I'm not touching you," I replied.

"And you'd better not!" he snapped suddenly, slamming his magazine on the table and turning to look at me. He would have gotten poked in the eye if I hadn't dropped my hand out of shock.

He stared at me and I stared at him. Then Warren put one hand to his temple and looked down. When he looked back up his face was pinched. "Bobby, I'm sorry," he said.

I didn't know what to say, because I wasn't sure why he was apologizing. Was he saying he was sorry for snapping at me for being my usual childish self… or was it more to do with the words themselves? I mentally repeated it to myself and decided that I could definitely choose to take it the wrong way.

I didn't want to do that.

"Hey, no problem," I said, shrugging lightly. "I'm just, you know, bored. Didn't realize it was that annoying."

Warren looked away again. Please don't talk about it, I begged him mentally. Just drop it.

"Look," Warren said, sounding profoundly uncomfortable. "Bobby, I… Okay. You'll always be one of my best friends, you know that I hope." He shifted in his seat and finally managed to look at me. "Just… are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Warren, why does this have to be the ONE time you talk about your feelings?" I muttered. I sighed and slumped back in my chair. "Yes, Warren, I'm perfectly aware of what I'm doing. I'm making myself happy for once."

"Happy?" Warren asked, eyebrows shooting into the stratosphere. "With Jonothon? Bobby, I know you haven't had the best relationships in the past but surely you can't compare what you have with the kid to what you had with, say, Lorna."

Great. Warren Worthington the Third: Relationship Counselor. I'm in a parallel dimension run by Satan.

"What Lorna and I had was different."

Warren nodded. "Obviously."

I glared at him, then. "What is it that bugs you about this situation, huh?"

Warren's wings rustled nervously. "Well, he just doesn't seem like your type. And he's almost ten years your junior, you know."

"Seven," I corrected, wishing for that ever-popular hole in the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Warren raised an eyebrow at me as if that proved his point. "Okay, fine, so there's an age thing!" I admitted. "That doesn't makes me some creepy cougar-guy." I paused. "Does it?"

Before Warren could reply I shook my head. "No. Look, Warren… I really care about Jonothon. This is probably the best relationship I've ever had."

If there were a picture for 'incredulous' in the dictionary, it would be of Warren's face when I said that.

"I mean it!" I said.

"But Bobby, what about Lorna? Or Opal?"

I was sensing a trend, here.

"It's because it's a guy, isn't it?" I asked quietly.

Warren slumped. "Yes."

I stared at the table. "Nothing's changed," I said. "I'm still the same guy."

"I know that," Warren said and sighed. "But it… it doesn't feel that way. I mean, Jesus, Bobby, we always thought you just didn't want to settle down. All those times we went out together and you were hitting on the waitresses? What the hell was that?"

"I didn't want anyone to know," I said. It sounded lame. Felt lamer. "You guys are everything to me. I didn't want you to… you know. Hate me."

"Are you sure-"

I was abruptly furious. "Yes!" I shouted. Words, which seconds ago had seemed so hard to find, burst forth like pus from an open sore. "I like guys better, Warren. I always have. You wanna know something? When Lorna and I were together…? We never did it. Ever. I couldn't."

Warren stared at me. I smiled hugely and threw my hands up in the air. "So there you go. If that was healthy, then I think I prefer dysfunctional. At least this way I get laid."

Utter silence for a few moments. Then, "Is this just about the sex?"

I banged my forehead on the table.

"No, Warren," I replied with my nose pressed against the tabletop. "It's not, actually. In fact, since you asked, I'm in love with him. And I really, really wish everyone would stop acting like it's such a big deal because I'm afraid you're all going to make him skittish and he'll run away and leave me alone."

I closed my eyes and just breathed for a while. At length I heard Warren clear his throat and I looked up.

"Bobby," he said, obviously uncomfortable. "I'm sorry."

What the hell. "S'okay," I said. "I understand. I just wish you would talked to me earlier of it was bothering you"

Warren smiled a little. "You know me," he replied. "Keep it all inside."

"Too true." I smiled back and things felt almost normal again.

"Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

"When we were kids, I mean, we all changed together and… did you ever…?"

"Let's not go there, Warren."

I was taking a nap when Jono and Paige returned to base. I was having some sort of dream involving toast and Buddhist monks when I was awoken by a very excited, very damp Paige Guthrie shaking my shoulder.

"Bobby!" she said, grinning ear to ear. "He did it! Mah lord, ya shoulda seen it!" She let go of me and stood there, waiting for my reaction.

"Toast?" I said.

Paige rolled her eyes at me.

"Where's Jono?" I managed to ask, still shaking sleep from my brain. She pointed across the room where Jonothon was speaking to Warren. I climbed out of the chair I'd fallen asleep in, wincing as my back protested loudly. With Paige at my side, I walked over to the other two.

"So," I asked, smiling. "How'd it go?"

Jonothon turned to me; one hip cocked at an arrogant angle, and regarded me with smiling brown eyes.

*Bloody fantastic,* he replied in his best 'I'm too cool to be excited' voice. I could tell that he was thrilled, however.

"Yes!" I replied, laughing, and before I could stop myself I'd stepped forward and hugged him.

Oh shit, I thought as soon as I realized I now had my arms around him in front of people. He's going to stand there and be awkward and--

But I was wrong. Jonothon's arms went up around me and he hugged me back fiercely, nuzzling his face into my neck.

*Thanks,* he murmured.

"You're welcome," I replied, still smiling.

Things were really getting underway.

e-mail the author at decadentmazohyst@yahoo.ca or visit her website at www.yinepu.net