"Shit dude, that was Kitty? As in Kitty Pryde? As in Kitty-I-Want-Your-PUSSY Kat??"

Pietro gave Lance a playful swat on the ass and then made a "V" with his fingers, wiggling his tongue obscenely and crossing his eyes. Lance shoved him away.

"Dude she's coming over here and I want you guys to leave us alone. I don't know what she wants, but one of my secret powers is the power of seduction so I'm hoping that's going to work out for me tonight." Todd and Fred sniggered from the living room. "The only power you've got over chicks is that you can shake 'em up better than any vibrator, so long as you don't destroy the building while you're at it."

- - -

Kitty rang the doorbell. Lance opened it almost instantly, his readiness startling her. She peered cautiously inside, and he seemed to know immediately what she was searching for. "Don't worry, the guys are downtown right now, probably causing trouble and throwing shit at cars. They'll be occupied for a long time." He moved aside awkardly and she stepped inside. They walked into the living room together and she forced herself to playfully run her hand over his shoulder and chest, poking him gently.

"I thought maybe we could just watch a movie or something. I just needed to get out of that hellhole, everybody's always breathing down my neck and I've always wanted to spend more time with you." She wasn't totally lying. Sort of.

"Hey I bet South Park is on." Lance looked so excited, Kitty almost forgot how much she hated that show. "Suuure. Let's watch that." They sat down on opposite ends of the couch. By the time the theme song had ended, Kitty was determined that by the next commercial break, she'd get this whole thing over with.

She didn't even have to wait that long. Before two minutes had passed, she became aware that he wasn't looking at the screen anymore. When Lance saw her glance over at him, he stood up. He closed the blinds, winking at her as he did so. God he was daft. Did he really think she was interested in him? Though, at least he was interested in her. Lance, one; Logan, zero.

"Hey, you like Alice in Chains, right? Great." She didn't even know what he was talking about, but she figured it would do no good to argue. Unfortunately, the next thing that happened was that he turned down the horrible, distasteful show on tv and turned UP a horrible, distasteful band on the stereo system. The distorted guitars were grubby sounding and the singer's voice came out like a mosquito's whine. It was definitely nothing like the music she listened to; Nelly Furtado and Chris Brown were more suited to her taste.

Lance plopped back down onto the couch beside her, much closer this time. His hand was resting on her thigh. She'd made sure to wear sexy clothes; a black miniskirt, a tight fitting v-neck shirt with flowy sleeves, her favorite necklace and plenty of make-up. She was even wearing lip gloss. She never wore lipgloss.

It was working. Lance gazed at her with a misty expression, his eyes glazed over and full of desire. "You look real hot tonight, Kitty." She refrained from rolling her eyes at his lack of tact. He was staring openly at her breasts and she lifted his chin back up so they were both looking at each others' faces. He had nice features, seductive eyes, cute hair. Resolutely, she thought to herself, "What better time than now?"

- - -

Logan leaned against the polished wooden edge of the large table. He held a cue stick in one hand and ran his fingers through his thick hair with the other while he watched Nick sink the solid red ball into the left side pocket.

"So you're saying there's an anti-mutant organization that has teamed up with some mind controlling mutants and they're running underground dogfights between other mutants who have been hypnotized?"

Nick missed the next shot he took. "Yes, though the term dogfight doesn't seem very proper. In the most blunt terms, I would consider it a death-match cage fight."

Logan took a swig of beer and then bent down low to the table, lining his cue stick up carefully. "What's any of this got to do with me?" He sunk both the green and blue striped balls at once.

"We want you back with S.H.I.E.L.D. This is right up your alley, tracking down these guys and bringing this scheme to an end. It's just a money making program, anti-mutant individuals will pay big money to see a person with wings get electrocuted by someone who can channel electricity. It's sick, but it happens. I'm sure with your training it should be a piece of cake to take these guys down." Logan sunk the yellow striped ball in the corner pocket. "I know that's not all you're after, bub."

"Well, you're right. After we deal with this petty "dogfight" organization, I can promise you even better benefits than you had the last time you were with us. We'll even pay for housing; no more living in that crowded, hormonal boarding house with all those dramatic brats."

"I happen to like living with those brats, Fury. I'm someone they can look to for answers."

Nick looked at him scornfully. "Sure. Must be a blast. Look Logan, as far as I can tell, Charles Xavier is the one they look to. What wise lessons are you going to teach them? You don't even have answers for yourself. But we can help with that, Logan...come back to us."

He sunk the last ball and leaned his cue up against the table. "Sorry, Nick. I'm beginning to realize I don't really need as many answers as I used to."

Nick's expression darkened. "You're predictable, Logan. Let me guess. It's a girl. A girl too young for you, right? A student? You want her but you can't have her?" He threw his pool stick onto the green, felt tabletop. "You're almost invincible, Wolverine. But it's always women who fuck you up."

Logan held Nick with a steady gaze. "I wouldn't know about that," he tapped his head. "I forgot all the things you think you know about me, remember? So I think I'm going to stick with what I do know, Nick, and stay with those boarding house brats. Thanks for the offer, bub."

He grabbed his beer and made his way out of the barroom, leaving Nick Fury standing by the pool table, looking extremely offended.

- - -

Lance's smooth back was beaded with sweat and the muscles rippled silkily underneath her fingers as he moved above her. His breath was heavy and he moaned as he slid in and out of her slowly, savoring the sensation. He had his eyes closed in pleasure and his teeth clenched. His hips smacked into her thighs each time he pushed forward, and it was obvious that at least one of them was thoroughly enjoying this experience. But she couldn't care less about how good it felt to him right now.

To be completely honest, she was almost bored. This whole moment was so fake. She was fake, he was fake, everything was just fabricated self-gratifying lust. Only this wasn't even gratifying. He was so damn polite, so sweet and gentle but he wasn't thinking about her right now. He wasn't giving her love or passion; he was just taking the most of this for himself and trying half-heartedly to be a gentleman at the same time. For God's sake, he hadn't even bothered to take her shirt off.

"Mmmph!" An exceptionally hard thrust brought Kitty back to reality, and she remembered to wrap her fingers in his hair and moan a response to his quickening breath. "Oooah, K-Kitty I'm gonna cum!" He suddenly pulled out and in a split second he was practically sitting on the upper region of her ribs, his fingers jerking up and down the slippery shaft. "Ugh, real romantic, Romeo," she thought to herself before closing her glossy lips over the tip of his penis.

He immediately arched his back and shot his load into the back of her mouth. As he shuddered with orgasm, she noticed that the entire room shook slightly; the ceiling fan swung from side to side and the remote rattled on the coffee table. His cum was something of a mix between bitter and salty and it took all her willpower not to spit it out all over the couch. Instead, she gave him a sticky smile and forced herself to swallow.

When Kitty walked home that night, she felt even more hollow inside than she had before.