You guys were ready to give up on me!

No, no. The last chapter was not the last. In fact, we still have one, maybe two more left after this. I'm excited to power through these last few chapters because I am so ready to start Thigh High Boots. I'm really excited for it. There will be action, the reappearance of some old foes, some new baddies, adventure, romance, boots, Avengers, and the random appearance of Felicia Hardy.

I hope you're excited too.

But anyway. Onward to the next chapter.

XXXXX

Wanda Maximoff was not sure why she was instructed to go to a local park by John, but he sounded so urgent about it, she grumpily left to see what all of the fuss was about.

But as she neared the park, she noticed that people were rapidly running in the opposite direction. In fact, they were outright running. And screaming. Curious, she looked into the distance and saw flames springing into the air. The flames were accompanied by John's very distinctive and very crazy laughter.

What the hell was he up to now?

Wanda elbowed her way through the crowds, growing closer to the source of the flames. Eventually, she found herself staring at John, who stood in front of a particularly large stretch of green grass. Or, at least, what was once a large stretch of grass. Now it had been scorched by John, an odd pattern of flames burning the ground. She approached the pyromaniac, seriously contemplating setting his hair on fire.

Again.

"What are you doing?" she barked.

John looked over his shoulder at Wanda, his mad grin dropping to a shy smile. "Oh. Wanda."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Why did you drag me out here?"

John looked into Wanda's expressive, angry eyes, his heart skipping. As was the norm, all words and coherent thought left him when he looked at the fiercely beautiful woman. He swallowed, remembering what Christine had told him.

So he numbly pointed to the fire burning on the grass. Wanda looked at it with narrowed eyes.

"What about it?" she asked, sounding impatient.

At will, John extinguished the fire. Wanda's eyes widened as it became clear.

He had burned something into the earth, for all to see. Blackened grass spelled out:

I burn for you.

Wanda stared at it for a long time. She truly did not know how to respond. She wanted to mock him for being so terribly mushy. But something in her black heart seemed to protest this. In fact, she felt something rather not…angry. It was a pleasant little feeling, spreading from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair.

Wanda Maximoff found herself blushing at John's proclamation.

She turned to face him. He was watching her closely, looking like a child waiting to hear if it was in trouble. But in his wild eyes, there was absolute sincerity.

She managed to pull herself together before things could get too mushy. But she did let herself smile at John. Just a little.

"Come on you, idiot." She ruffled his hair. "Let's get out of here before the cops come."

John nodded, a little disappointed that she had not flung herself into his arms and showered him with kisses. Shoulders slumped, he started to follow behind the girl of his affections.

"Oh. And John?"

He looked up at her. She was looking over her shoulder at him…smiling. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

With that, she stomped off. Just in time, to boot; the sound of approaching police sirens filled the air. Grinning, John quickly followed behind Wanda. As the fled together, he realized something.

She had lit his hair on fire. But this time she had done it….

Affectionately.

XXXXX

Rogue sat in the med bay, patiently waiting for Remy LeBeau to open his eyes.

Following his encounter with Deadpool, he decided to do something stupid. Stupider than his usual level of stupid. So stupid, he ended up in a coma. And had remained in a coma all day.

Idiot.

And yet, Rogue could not find herself being too angry with the Cajun.

That's because the way he got himself in the coma in the first place was by planting the mother of all kisses on her. And he had done it so quickly, she had no time to truly react.

One minute, she had been walking down the hall toward the kitchen. Remy was walking in her direction. Being in a somewhat pleasant mood, she gave him a friendly nod.

"Hey, Swamp Rat."

And then he had wrapped his arm around her waist, dragging her flush against him. It literally happened that quickly.

The man was fast.

Then his mouth was on hers, hot and demanding and warm and intrusive. He knew he would only have a few seconds before her powers knocked him out cold, so he seemed to take the little time he had to engulf her in the power of his kiss.

And engulf her he did. Right before he dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Now, Rogue watched as the Cajun slowly began to stir in his bed. Good. He was waking up.

She had words for him.

When his red eyes fluttered open, he immediately turned toward Rogue. Despite having been unconscious for hours on end, he instantly gave her a rakish grin.

"Bonjour, River Rat."

"You wanna explain what all of that was about?" she asked without preamble.

He stretched, still grinning. He folded his hands behind his head and regarded her with naughty eyes. "That, Cherie, was my grand gesture."

"Your what?"

"Jus' Remy's little way of lettin' you know that I don' care how dangerous your powers might be. It's you I want." His expression softened to a tender smile. "And I'll take you jus' the way you are."

Her heart fluttered in her chest. For a long time, she and Remy simply stared at each other, their eyes locked. Eventually though, the goth lifted a gloved hand and pressed it gently to his forehead.

"You know you could have just told me all of this without sendin' yourself into a coma, right?" she asked gently.

Remy just grinned. "Worth it."

XXXXX

Jean rubbed Scott's back as he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet for what had to have been the millionth time since they got home from what she had dubbed the Chimichanga Fiasco.

"I hope this shows you that you really must be more responsible with alcohol, Scott," she chided gently, running her fingers through his hair.

He responded by dry heaving painfully.

Eventually, Scott lifted his head and flushed. Weak and sweaty, he slid down until he was resting his head in Jean's lap. Though she did not look like she would be kissing him anytime soon, she managed to muster an affectionate smile for him.

"You…aren't mad?" he asked.

Jean shook her head, placing a hand on his forehead. "No. Not mad. A little disappointed that you weren't more cautious but everyone is entitled to their mistakes."

Scott smiled up at her, reaching until he found her hand. He held it tight. "You always are so patient with my mistakes."

"Of course I am. I care about you. It's you I want. Even when you mess up, you're still who I want."

Even though they were sitting in the floor of the bathroom and he was feeling like death two times over, Scott couldn't help but feel as if a moment was developing between him and Jean. Which is why he lifted his hand and caressed her cheek.

"Jean?"

"Yeah, Scott?"

And suddenly, in that moment, it wasn't so hard to say what he had been holding back.

"I love you."

He swore her green eyes actually lit up when he said that. She smiled wide. "I love you too, Scott."

Whatever moment that could have developed between them further was cut short when a new wave of nausea claimed Scott and he found himself once again emptying his stomach into the toilet. And Jean sat by his side, patting his back and saying soothing words.

And while it may not have been ideally romantic, he said it.

He said it.

XXXXX

Logan and Ororo finished cleaning the kitchen after dinner that night with a heavy sigh.

"I think I am going to bed now," Ororo stated, yawing and stretching as she said this.

Logan only nodded; he was also pretty tired. "Think I'll do the same."

They exited together, walking in companionable silence until they had to part to go to their respective rooms.

"Goodnight, Logan."

"'Night, 'Ro."

They turned and went their separate ways. He was almost to his room when Logan paused, looking back at where Ororo was retreating.

"Hey, 'Ro?" he called out.

She turned to look at him. "Yes?"

He hesitated, feeling uncharacteristically shy and childlike. "You look really…pretty today." He shrugged helplessly. "Just wanted you to know."

Maybe his eyes deceived him, but he was almost certain that beneath her dark skin, Ororo Munroe was blushing.

XXXXX

Just when the boys were getting settled into the thought that their love lives were finally starting to go somewhere, John, Remy, Scott, and Logan remembered the red head waitress that had given them the push in the right direction. And then they remembered that she too had a love life, with the boy named Nick, that was in need of assistance. And they remembered they had neglected to give her this help despite the fact that she had so subtly asked.

And each one of them realized it was time for them to return their favor.