Author's Note: Okay, so… slight deviation from my original schedule of a new chapter every week or so. Maybe they won't notice?

Disclaimer: Ownership kills the soul. Luckily, I have no soul. But I still don't own X-Men: Evolution.

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Cashiers rang, coins jingled, people coughed, fries and burgers sizzled, children wailed, and Lance Alvers hated everything. Just being inside a third-rate fast food joint was usually an unpleasant experience. He now worked in one. Lance scowled, recalling the conversation with the rest of the guys (and Wanda) he'd had earlier that week.

"Yo, Lance, fridge is empty."

"Already? We just bought groceries with the last of the eating contest money! What'd you guys do, inhale it?"

"Uhhh… kinda? All those hotdogs made me hungry."

"Friggin… great. Good job, Fred."

"Aw, don't get mad, Lance. We'll scrounge up some cash somehow, yo."

"Forget it. I'm done relying on harebrained schemes to pay for our food and bills. I'm getting a job."

A collective gasp had filled the house.

"Who are you!? What did you do with Lance!?"

"I am Lance, you idiot."

"Liar! Where were you on the day of yesterday night!?"

"P-p-piieeetroo, s-s-s-sto-o-p sh-sh-a-a-a-king m-m-me."

"Fine! But I see through your disguise! The real Lance would never stoop so low!"

"Look, this is just until we get a foundation, okay? Don't think I like this any more than you guys do."

He'd stormed out of the house, driving away to check for hiring locations.

And after an hour or so worth of searching, he'd found this hellhole. Luckily for him, the place was so run-down that they didn't think twice about hiring a grungy kid with unruly hair and no previous job experience. Lance sighed and adjusted the oversized hamburger-shaped hat they'd stuffed on his head as a part of his "uniform." A pinstripe shirt and matching suspenders completed the outfit. Humiliation wasn't a strong enough word for this place, but at least it paid. Six bucks an hour was better than nothing. He rang up the order of another customer, trying to be optimistic. At the very least, this place was so run-down and cruddy that the prep-patrol X-Nerds would never show up here.

A small ring sounded through the restaurant, signaling more customers. Lance rolled his eyes before spouting off the store's public relations slogan, "Welcome to the Goodburger, home of the Goodburger, can I take your order?" Raising his eyes from the cash register to look at the new patrons, his gaze fell upon a pair of ruby red shades.

"… I hate everything."

None other than Scott Summers stared back at him from across the restaraunt, "Alvers?"

Lance scowled again, wishing he was in his battle suit, not this stupid uniform. Call his headgear a salad bowl, but at least it wasn't a freakin' hamburger.

"What do you want, Summers?"

Scott just stared. Across the counter was his arch-rival, dressed in a ridiculous suit, in a completely servile position. For a boy scout, Scott liked to think he had a pretty intimidating wicked grin.

"Now now, Alvers. Is that any way to address a valued customer?"

Lance's lower eyelid twitched, "Get out of here, Summers. I mean it."

Scott laughed, "Oh, you wish Rock-head. This is a dream come-true. Hey Kurt! Get in here, man!"

The entrance bell jingled again, as Kurt Wagner elbowed his way inside, looking around with faint disgust at the inside of the restaurant.

"Ach, Scott, I told you we shouldn't have come here. The Burger Bomb is only closed for another day or two, there's no reason to get desperate!"

Scott's only response was to grab Kurt's head and point him in Lance's direction. Kurt stared for about one second, and then burst out laughing, "I take it back, I take it back! This place beats ze pants off ze Burger Bomb!"

Lance gritted his teeth, the ground tremoring slightly in response, "Okay, ha, ha, real funny. You had your laugh now get outta here."

"Scott? Kurt? What's taking you guys so… oh my god."

Lance glanced over; eyes meeting the staring face of Jean as she pushed open the restaurant door. How many freakin' X-Geeks could Summers cram in that fancy shmancy convertible?

"Is that Lance?" Jean stared incredulously, before covering her mouth to hide a laugh.

"Sure is, Jean." Scott grinned, "I think I just found my new favorite hangout."

Jean rolled her eyes, but didn't uncover her mouth, "Sometimes I worry about you, Scott," her hidden giggles completely destroying her attempt to be preachy. "I'll just wait in the car. Don't do anything stu- ahahaahaahaha!" Laughing despite herself, Jean shook her head and walked out of the restaurant.

Scott and Kurt eyed each other, and then turned to Lance, grinning widely, "I dunno about you, Kurt, but I feel the service here is very sub-par."

"Oh, ja, the cashiers are sooooo unfriendly!"

"Can it, freakshow! I don't have to take this from either of you!"

"Oh wow, that vas very rude of him, wouldn't you say, Scott?"

Scott grinned and waggled a finger at Lance, "I agree; this has to be some of the worst customer service I've ever had. I think we should talk to his manager."

Lance hesitated, "You wouldn't."

"I think ve woooouuullld," Kurt sing-songed.

"That's it. You X-Geeks have till the count of three to get outta here befo-"

"Alvers!"

Lance froze. With a wince, he turned to his left, facing his very angry manager, "Yes, sir?"

Scott and Kurt snickered in the background.

"What in Sam hill is going on here, Alvers? Are you disrespecting the customers!?" His manager growled.

Lance opened his mouth to protest, but Scott cut in, "I hate to complain, sir, but your employee here was very insulting to me and my friend. All we wanted was to order some of your delicious food, but he's been nothing but rude and confrontational."

"That's not true, sir!" Lance blurted, "These are just some hecklers from school who came he-"

"Can it, Alvers!" the manager barked, "I don't care if they're your arch-rivals who dress up in spandex suits and constantly foil you and your friends at every turn and spend all their time showing you up and rubbing your faces in the dirt! You'll give them happy, helpful customer service, and you'll do it with a smile or you're out on your ass! Am I clear?"

Lance's lower eyelid twitched, "Yes, sir. Crystal."

The manager nodded and stomped back to his office, slamming the door behind him. With a very large and very forced smile, Lance turned back to Scott and Kurt, "So… may I take your order?"

Scott grinned, "Why thank you. Yeah, game a minute to decide here… hmmm…"

Scott stared at the menu board, humming softly, hands in his pockets. Several seconds passed. Kurt snickered uncontrollably into his hand. Scott continued to stare. Several more seconds passed. Scott opened his mouth. Lance raised a hand to punch in the order. Scott closed his mouth wordlessly. Lance growled. The very corner of Scott's mouth twitched in a grin, but he quickly reasserted his blank expression, staring at the menu. A dozen more seconds passed.

"If I may make a suggestion, sir?" Lance ground out from between his teeth.

"Hmm? Oh, sure, go ahead," Scott grinned.

"Might I suggest the Classic Goodburger? It's an international hit." Lance forced out.

Scott tapped his chin in mock-thoughtfulness, "Hmmmmmmmmmmm…." He drew out the word for a good twenty seconds. Lance could almost feel the vein throbbing in his temple.

"Sure," Scott nodded.

Lance grunted and typed in the order, "Alright, anything to drink?" Lance's eyes widened as the question left his mouth before he could stop himself.

Scott once again stared at the menu, "Uuuuuuhhhhhhhh….."

Lance resisted the urge to slam his face into the cash register, "How about a medium soft drink, sir?"

Scott shrugged, "Yeah, okay. What are you getting, Kurt?"

Lance clenched his fists, preparing for another marathon deciding session. However, Kurt immediately answered, "Oh, I'd like two Deluxe Goodburgers, a medium fry, and a jumbo soft drink."

Lance sighed and began punching in the order. Before he could get halfway, Kurt spoke up again, "Wait, no, I changed mein mind. I vant four classic Goodburgers, a large fry, and a medium soft drink."

Lance scowled and began re-typing the order. The second his finger hit the button, Kurt opened his mouth once more, "Ach, actually, give me a Goodburger Supreme, two medium fries, a large soft drink, and a cookie."

Eyelid twitching, Lance stared at Kurt, "Are you sure?"

Kurt nodded around snickers, "Ja, Ja, I'm completely sure."

Hesitantly, Lance began typing in the order.

"No, wait! I changed mein mind again! I vant four Deluxe Goodburgers, two large fries, a jumbo soft-drink, and a cookie!"

Once again, Lance resisted the urge to slam his face into the cash register. Typing out the order before Kurt could change his mind again, he tore off the receipt, "That'll be eleven-fifty."

"You heard him, Kurt. Go ahead and pay the man."

"With pleasure, mein fraunde."

With a toothy grin, Kurt produced a jar full of loose change and dumped it onto the counter. Lance starred horrified at the pile of nickels, dimes, and pennies. "Why the hell would you carry that around!?"

Kurt winked, "We vere going to stop at ze bank after this, but I think this is a much better use of mein coin jar."

With a groan, Lance grit his teeth and began the painstaking process of counting out eleven dollars and fifty cents worth of loose change; Kurt and Scott almost falling over themselves with laughter. Almost a minute later, he scooped the last of the pennies into the register, "Eleven forty eight, eleven forty nine… eleven fifty." He glanced back up at Kurt and Scott's grinning faces, "Your order will be ready momentarily." Whirling around, he stormed back to the kitchen to pick up their food, their laugher following behind him.

"Yeah yeah, laugh it up, X-Nerds," Lance muttered as he scooped up burgers and fries, wrapping them and stuffing them into bags, "I'll remember this next time we throw down and you'll be sorry then." Reaching out for another burger, Lance froze. He stared at the food. Raising his head, he glanced out of the kitchen at the snickering faces of the X-Geeks. He returned his gaze to their food. Maybe he wouldn't have to wait for the next fight after all.

Grinning evilly, Lance looked around to make sure no one was watching. Seeing that the coast was clear, he peeled the bun off of Scott's classic Goodburger. Inhaling and snorting deeply, Lance threw back his head, and then hawked a lugie smack dab on top of the pickles. Quickly replacing the bun, Lance chuckled under his breath, wrapping the burger and shoving it into the to-go bag. "Can't forget the fries," he snickered. Scooping the golden potato products into their containers, he put them in a separate to-go bag, whistling innocently as he glanced around the kitchen. No one was watching. With another sinister grin, he tipped his head over the bag and scratched furiously, adding a healthy coating of dandruff to the greasy order. "Hope Nightcreeper likes extra salt," he grinned.

With a cheerful whistle, Lance strode out from the kitchen toward the counter, bags in hand. As he set the bags down and opened his mouth to yell out that the order was ready, the entrance bell cut him off. Out of habit, he glanced to the door to see the new customer. The second he laid eyes on her, his shoulders sank. Someone upstairs really hated him today.

Kitty Pryde wrinkled her nose as she looked around the restaurant, tapping her foot impatiently. Seeing Scott and Kurt snickering in the corner, she rolled her eyes and took a step forward. As she did, she glanced toward the counter to see if their orders were ready yet. She saw two bags, probably their daily dose of cardiac arrest on a bun. Then she saw who was holding the bags.

"Lance!?"

For the third time that day, Lance fought the urge to smash his face into the cash register, "Hey, Kitty."

"Like, what the heck are you doing here, Lance?" she asked, stepping up to the counter, eyes wide with disbelief.

Lance felt the color rise in his cheeks despite himself and he glanced downward, mumbling something about bills and food.

Kitty smiled softly at his reaction and waved a hand in front of his face, "I'm up here, Lance."

Scowling, Lance raised his eyes to look at her, embarrassment still evident on his face, "Yeah, sorry. Are you going to order something or just make fun of me too?"

Kitty rolled her eyes at Scott and Kurt who were still laughing in the corner, "Like, don't mind them. They're just being immature."

"Oh, I don't mind. I took their orders and even got the food personally."

Kitty snickered, "Oh god, Lance. What did you do?"

Lance shrugged, feigning innocence, "Why, Kitty, whatever do you mean?"

Slapping him playfully, Kitty grinned, "Should I be worried about their health?"

"Nah, they'll be fine. Just tell 'em that they shouldn't mess with the guy who handles their food. But wait till after they take a few bites," Lance winked.

"Alright. And for the record, I think it's cute that you got a job," she giggled, leaning forward to adjust his oversized hamburger hat, "Lance Alvers, working man."

Lance smiled softly, half-heartedly batting her hand away, "Don't get too attached, it's just a temporary job."

"I guess that means I'll just have to visit more often then," she smiled. Without warning, she leaned forward, phasing partway through the counter and kissing him softly on the cheek. Lance smiled goofily, flushing slightly as she pulled away, taking both bags of food with her. He waved lightly as she turned to go, hips swaying slightly as she left the restaurant, Kurt and Scott in tow.

Still smiling, Lance watched them through the window as they climbed in the convertible. Scott and Kurt were already wolfing down their food. Kitty turned again, meeting his gaze and winking before leaning forward from the back seat and saying something to the two. They both froze at once and stared at their food. Simultaneously, they leaned over the edge of the car, gagging and puking. Kitty sat back in her seat, laughing and Jean started the car, shaking her head bemusedly. As the vehicle drove away, Lance met Kitty's eyes one last time. They shared a smile. Then the car was gone around the corner.

Tenderly, Lance raised a hand to touch his cheek. Maybe this job thing wasn't so bad after all.

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Endnote: I support Lancitty, if you can't tell. Reviews! My (nonexistent) kingdom for reviews! And you get ten points if you can say where the Goodburger is from.