The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

THE HEART IS A LONELY HUNTER CHAPTER THIRTY ONE (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply


A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, I think I'm making Ted nervous...I keep reading that story and looking at him and he feels it's more of a leer... InterNutter, TC and Maxwell Pink make me warm and fuzzy all over because they're kind enough to archive my stories. :) Readers/Reviewers: I'm still flu-y, but I have good drugs now. Oooooh...pretty colors. Why are the Killer Kitties (tm) dancing to Inna Gadda Divida?



"School sucks dog toes," Jubilee opined before she popped another Conversation Heart1 into her mouth. Rahne growled around a mouthful of hairpins and Jubilee amended, "Dog, not wolf, chica. You look nice."
"Thanks. I'm nervous about Jamie, though. He thinks he's gonna get picked on by the guys at the high school. I told him it were crap to think that but he's still popping Tums like there's not tomorrow." With a rather rough jab, she slid the last hairpin into place. "There...hand me that black eye shadow, would ye?"
Rogue frowned. "Don't waste it...that's hard to find, you know." She handed over the cube of eye shadow reluctantly, feigning disinterest in the preparations for the dance while inside, she was still seething Todd had noted the day with a grunted 'hey' when she all but threw herself in front of him in a low-cut top and painted-on jeans.
The girls were all crammed into Jubilee's room, the Institute clearinghouse for accessories and makeup, watching Kitty, Amara and Rahne get ready for the dance, although Rahne was the only one who seemed actually enthused about it. "This costume is degrading, disgusting and a little too tight," Kitty growled. She tugged at the skirt of the cheerleader uniform with disdain. "How unoriginal can Duncan be? Going as a football player...dumb as a bag of hammers..."
Jean merely raised a brow, half jittering with excitement but tempered with nervous thoughts. "At least Jubilee was kind enough to lend you her costume from...frankly I don't want to know where...so you didn't have to borrow one from the cheerleaders." Jean had been ready for hours, got up like Daisy Duke in an eye-popping pink gingham blouse, tied beneath her breasts, and shorts borrowed from Jubilee, both too tight and too short. Her pigtails and eyeliner-defined freckles completed the outfit, which incidentally meant that none of the girls could look at her without bursting into giggles.
"I look like one of those girls from that Nirvana video," Kitty sighed, looking down at the black and red outfit, the large anarchy symbol glaring back up at her.
"That's kind of the point, girlie," Jubilee sighed, rattling a box of Red Hots enticingly at Rogue, who waved them off with a snarl. "Fine, more Valentine's candy for me, then."
"Shoot," Amara sighed. "I left my combs in my room." She stared hard in the mirror and narrowed her eyes. "Jubilee, go get me the...let me see...ivory combs from my dresser."
"Nuh-uh, Princess. Get off yer ass an' get 'em yourself," Jubilee laughed. "I ain't nobody's servant."
Kitty paused from trying to pull her skirt down to cover more of her thighs and Rogue looked up from Jubilee's CD collection as Amara turned to glare. Rahne even looked up from applying the black make up artistically as burn marks on her face to see what was going to happen. The only one who seemed nonplussed was Jean, who remained picking at the fringe of her shorts as if she could not hear what was going on. "Jubilee," Amara said low in her throat, "I _asked _ nicely..."
"No you didn't," the Asian girl crowed. "You _told _ me to...and I said no. So scoot. I'll save your place at the mirror!" She pulled Amara to her feet and nearly overset the Nova Roman due to the ornate sandals the girl had on beneath her floor-length toga. Amara stomped out of the room with a growled curse in her Latinate language and slammed the door behind her. Jubilee and Jean burst out laughing as soon as the door was closed.
"What?" Rahne, Kitty and Rogue said at once, all eyes fixing on the laughing girls.
"Lance owes us BIG TIME," Jubilee giggled, falling next to Jean on the bed.
Jean nodded, clutching her stomach in laughter, appearing happy for the first time in days. "Oh, boy...Amara's gonna be either pissed or thrilled...and I'm not sure that I want to know either way."
Kitty appointed herself spokesperson of the group. "What are you on about? Lance owes you a favor for making Amara get her own combs?"
Jubilee was still sniggering helplessly so Jean deigned to answer. "Jubilee hid Amara's combs earlier while I kept her talking so she wouldn't notice they were missing. Lance is setting up some Lupercalia thing for her so she won't have to go to the dance."
"Lupercalia?" Rogue asked, sounding suspicious. "Are we gonna run out of whipped cream again?"
Jean looked mildly disgusted. "Er, no. It's this ancient Roman celebration that Valentine's Day was actually sort of modeled on, around the whole martyrdom thing."
Kitty nodded sagely. "I've read about that...it means something about wolves, doesn't it? Because of Romulus and Remus, the brothers who founded Rome and were raised by wolves."
Rahne nodded approvingly. "I like 'em already."
Kitty continued, "The festival was for fertility and wasn't celebrated in later Roman times, was it? They would sacrifice goats and lambs and put the blood on boys and whip women with the skins...the februa, which is where February comes from2..."
"Kitty," Rogue sighed, "anyone ever tell you that you read way too much?"
Jean raised a brow. "For once, I'm inclined to agree..."
Jubilee broke in, stifling Kitty's rising outburst of self-defense. "I don't think there's livestonvolnvolved in Lance's celebration of the baser things, but the whole whipping thing is likely to make an appearance..." There was a long pause and a collective shudder at the mental image before tittering swept over the girls.
"There," Rahne said, rising from her set before Jubilee's dresser mirror. "What do ye think?" She spread her arms wide and waited for approval. She had black, sooty smudges on all her exposed skin, her clothes were torn and singed in a very artistic manner, and she bore a fleur de lis pinafore over what looked like a medieval style top and hose. Her hair was pinned back and looked very boyish as she grinned expectantly. "Well?"
"Um, Joan of Arc?" Kitty guessed after a moment.
"Give the gal a cigar! She's not even Catholic and she got it in one!" Rahne crowed. "Jamie's goin' as an English solider. Ironic, no?"
"I think you can go to Hell for this," Rogue intoned solemnly, though her eyes were sparkling with mirth.
"Meh. I'll add to the list of the other things I'm surely going for," Rahne said philosophically. "See you at the dance, those who are going. Those who are refraining," she paused in the open doorway and smirked, "neener neener neener!"
Kitty snorted. "She speaks for herself...I so don't want to go...not with Duncan the Neanderthal anyway."
Jean frowned. "Now, now...don't be insulting to Neanderthals. Duncan makes them look like Albert Schweitzer."
Jubilee giggled again. "You are one fucked up chica, Jean Grey. Scott finally chilled enough to go with you?"
"Nope," Jean said resignedly. "I am doing the unthinkable. I'm going solo."
"Whaaaaa?" This was Jubilee. "You can't do that! That's social suicide!"
"Why?" Jean sniffed indignantly. "Where's the law that says women have to go to dances with men? Why can't I go out places by myself? Just because Scott wants to stay home and be miserable doesn't mean I can't go out and have a good time!"
Rogue shifted uncomfortably. "Um, Jean? He thinks you're not going..."
"So?" she asked, standing and adjusting the uncomfortable shorts. "He's made it clear that he doesn't want to be around me right now, so until he does, he can stay here and mope and watch hockey and whatever the Hell is that he does." She gave her pigtails a final tug, tossed them over her shoulders and said in an imperious tone, "Now, if you don't mind, I have to go make an ass of myself in public!" She sashayed from the room, her mind whirling with thoughts of her plans for Scott when he finally came to his senses.
Kitty sighed to herself and wiggled her toes inside the rather lethal-looking boots procured especially for this occasion. "Kurt's already gone and I'm supposed to meet Duncan at the dance in half an hour...guess I'd better go. Ugh. I have to look like this all night?" She wrinkled her nose at her reflection in the mirror. Black eyeliner rimmed her lashes thickly, her lips a strange mix of black and red hues thanks to Rogue's expert application. A large, fake tattoo was on her upper right arm and an even larger one graced her left forearm.3 "This just isn't right..."
"You look great, Kit," Rogue assured her, snickering. "Trust me, not everyone can carry off the Goth cheerleader look." She swatted Kitty on her nearly-exposed rear with one gloved hand and pushed her towards the door. "Besides, Duncan won't come near you with a ten-foot pole if you look like this!" Rogue was in a very good mood for the moment, Pietro's assured stalking behavior pushed to one side for the moment. _If I don't go out, he can't bother me. No way can he get in here tonight, not with Beast and Storm and the Professor around. _
Kitty left with a backwards, worried glance, leaving Jubilee and Rogue alone. "Well," Jubilee said after a comfortable silence. "Amara's getting laid, no doubt, Rahne and Jamie are insulting a major religion, Kurt and Kitty are on some weird swinger date, Jean is off to wreak havoc with the blood pressure of the male population of Bayville High, and we've got _The Cutting Edge _4 in the VCR...I think we're set."
"Hmm. Only if you agree that we can watch _Rocky Horror Picture Show _ after that mushy movie."
"Agreed. So long as you get the chips and dip." She reached under the bed and brought out a stash of Logan's beer. "What?" she said at Rogue's startled expression. "He's out of town, he's not drinking it...I can get Remy to replace it before he gets back..."
"How old *is * Remy anyway?" Rogue asked, one hand on the doorknob, one on her hip. "Is he legal?"
"I find it's best not to ask. I really don't want to know," Jubilee sighed, twisting the top off one of the beers. "Vamous, chica. Go forth and fetch us junk food!"
"Aye, aye Capitain!" Rogue snorted. She dimly noted raised voices in Scott's room but wrote them off to one of his spirited exhortations of the hockey refs. _It's Valentine's Day and I'm watching movies with Jubilee. Where the hell is Remy anyway? Shouldn't he be fucking her senseless or something about now? _ So wrapped up was she in her thoughts that she nearly ran Todd over in the foyer. "Hey!" she yelped when she realized who she'd run into. "I thought you were out or something tonight..." She finally took a long look at him. "What're you wearing?"
"Get dressed. We're going to the dance," he said tersely.
Rogue crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. "Nope. You don't ask me at the last minute and expect me to go running all giddy and throw on a costume and...Todd, _what the hell are you wearing _?"
Todd rolled his eyes. "What does it look like? I'm a frog prince!" Indeed, he looked a little greener than usual and his gold foil crown was at a rakish tilt.
"I don't even want to know where you got the purple velvet cape."
"Kurt, but I don't want to know where _he _ got it myself..." Todd flapped the edges of the cape like wings. "Um, look, here's the thing...I've been thinking a lot and I know you don't think I'm romantic or whatever and I know you're bugged about that. Wait, hear me out... I don't know what you want from me like that and I don't know what to do, so I decided to return the gesture you made to me."
"Um...?" Rogue found herself staring at his chest, as he was unbuttoning his shirt. "Todd..."
"Lance still had our fake ID's from a while back so I went into town and got this." He exposed the left side of his chest, which was now graced with a red heart with the name "Marie" in ornate script across it. Rogue stared, open-mouthed at it, noting the red skin around the edges, the faint bruising showing that yes, it was a real tattoo. "So, um, yeah...Todd Tolensky of Brooklyn doesn't have a tattoo, Floyd Feldstein of West Orange, New Jersey does..." he laughed nervously, somewhat undone by Rogue's lack of response.
"Todd, you incredible dolt. I love you." She grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled it up over his mouth, kissing him soundly. "I don't have a dress..."
"Yeah, that weird vinyl one with all the rings on it..." He blushed. "I kinda like that one..."
"Todd! I can't wear that in...aw, hell. If Jean can dress like a Hee Haw Honey, I can wear PVC in public. Give me ten minutes, kay?" She was already backing towards the stairs. "I think Jubilee will understand!" she said before turning and dashing to her room. Todd smiled giddily and sat on the wooden bench by the door as Rogue could be heard slamming the door to her room. His chest throbbed with a burning sensation thanks in part to the tattoo and also in part to the sudden lifting of stressful tension borne by hours of worrying if Rogue would think the tattoo was stupid or that she would just dismiss him out of hand, on principal. Settling back against the wall in a sort of daze, Todd contented himself with the idea that that night would be the first time he and Rogue were actually public with their relationship; they would be _together _, obviously and undeniably a couple, not just a whispered rumor and passing affection in the hallways. _There is no way tonight can go wrong... _

Jubilee was getting annoyed. Rogue had been gone nearly half an hour and she was halfway into her second beer, a green avocado-based mud mask on her face in an attempt to salvage the night dedicated to romance and love with half-hearted home spa treatments. She was stuffing cotton balls between her toes when the door swung open, admitting a waft of cold hallway air. " 'Bout time you got back, girl. I was gonna start without ya...Which color you want? Rouge Noir or Blackberry?" She finished wedging the last of the cotton between her toes and sniffed carefully, her nose itching due to the mask, her inhalation catching the scent of an all-too-familiar cologne. "Remy!" she shouted, leaping to her feet with a speed that astonished said Cajun, "What the Hell are you doing here? Aren't you out doing whatever it is you do when you're not with me?" She knew her face was red as a beet under the mask, disconcerted as she was to be caught out in her state of dishabille.
"Chere, I been doin' some tinkin' an' I don' see why you want romance cuz I been givin' you romance all dis time, mais si it romancin' you want, it what you get. Get ready to go-I wait downstair for you. You got ten...." He looked hard at her face. "You got twenny minute." He turned on his heel and marched from the room.
Jubilee wobbled unsteadily on her heels for a moment, processing what had just happened. "What am I gonna wear?" she mumbled thickly, staring at the open door which was soon filled by Rogue, looking every inch _The Story of O _.5 "Eeeep..."
Rogue flushed slightly, her over-exposed skin turning pink all over. "Um, Jubes honey, I'm kinda gonna have to bail on you tonight...see, Todd wants to go to the dance after all and, um, could I borrow that tiara you got at the resale shop last year?"
Jubilee blinked and shook her head. "Sure, sure..." She heel-walked over to her vanity and fished the rhinestone studded tiara, looking as if it had seen better days. "What are you, exactly?" She took in Rogue's outfit-the shiny, plasticy black dress with bondage rings in two rows down the front, the length of exposed legs encased in windowpane stockings, and the ridiculously high-heeled boots. "Dog collar's a nice touch..."
"It's not a dog collar," Rogue sighed. "It's a bondage collar. See? Big loop? Bondage." She tugged on the single, large silver hoop on the collar. The tiara firmly in place, she said, "I'm a princess. And Todd's a frog-prince. You gonna be okay alone here?"
"Um, actually, Remy's gone mad and decided we're going out tonight. I don't know where but I have fifteen minutes now to get ready...Rogue, what's that on your thigh?" Something small and green had caught Jubilee's attention through the mesh of the tights. "Is that a..."
"Night, Jubes!" Rogue hastily, though wobbly on her heels, left Jubilee to peel the cracking mask off her face, pondering just how much stranger the night would become.

Kitty tried not to be miserable, she really did. Duncan was no where to be seen, but everyone seemed to be fixated on Amanda and Kurt, dancing with the other nominated couples in the center of the garish gym, the red paper streamers brushing everyone across the face and sending girls into paroxysms of spider-paranoia. Kurt looked quite pleased with his choice of costume and even Kitty had agreed with him earlier, that he made a very dashing pirate, right down to the almost ridiculous plastic saber slung from his hip. Amanda was floaty and ethereal in something Kitty thought was supposed to be reminiscent of either _The Pirates of Penzance _ or _The HMS Pinafore _, though all she knew for certain was that _Amanda _ did not look like a Goth-cheerleader-tart while she did. _Damn it. I'm supposed to be dancing with Kurt, not lurking by the girls' locker room waiting for a date I don't want, being leered at by the A/V club _.
A booming voice near her ear announced the presence of her escort for the evening. "Sorry I was late, Kit...Had to get supplies!" Something in the tone of his voice made his cronies burst into laughter. "Damn, you look...huh." He shook his head and poked at the design on the front of her top. "Whazzat? A for what? Bayville starts with a B."
As if out of nowhere, Kurt appeared at Kitty's side, unfortunately with Amanda at his side. "It's an anarchy symbol, Duncan. And it's an homage to early nineties grunge music."
"Erm...yeah." Kitty nodded furiously, her hand seeking and finding Kurt's in the dimness of the gym, unnoticed by all but Amanda, who blinked several times, then looked away, studying the paper hearts dangling alongside the red streamers. "So, let's get this over with..." She squeezed Kurt's hand and stepped towards Duncan. "One dance and I'm gone."
"I'm thinkin' I'd like a drink first," Duncan said in what Kitty supposed was a seductive tone. "C'mon, let's go get some punch."
Kurt said in an overbright voice, "That sounds good. Amanda?"
"Um, no thanks...I'm just going to sit down. My feet are killing me..." She edged away towards the bleachers, set up along one wall for the wallflowers and tired alike. Part of her panged to realize Kurt did not much notice her absence outside of a nod when she spoke. She sighed, watching him trail Kitty, Duncan, Patricia and a few football players towards the cafeteria where punch and cookies had been set out in the manner of a nursery school party. She felt someone sit next to her and turned to explain she wanted to be alone, could they please scoot over some as she was at the very end of the bleacher and could not very well move over herself, but was brought up short by a tin of tiny black dots being shoved in her face.
"Licorice?"6 Paolo stared at her wide-eyed and hopeful.
Amanda looked at him, then down at the tin, then back at him. "Um, Paolo, right?"
"Si."
"What are you dressed as?" She was not sure if she should feel morbid fascination or pity for the guy. He was wearing a toga, baring quite a bit more flesh than the other males at the dance, and sandals in the style of ancient Greek and Roman pictures, laced up nearly to his knees. "And yes, I'd like a licorice," she said, taking one and smiling as he sighed in relief.
"I'm Cupid. Not that silly fat baby in the diaper with the arrows, but the Cupid from mythology." Paolo scooted closer and bit his lip. "You know it?"
"Mmm," Amanda said around the licorice, fighting the urge to spit it out. _How can something so tiny taste so god-awful _? "It's one of the most romantic stories ever! Where's your Psyche then?" Amanda finally succeeded in swallowing the vile candy and blinkeck tck tears from the pungent, stinging taste.
"I was hoping," he said in a near-whisper, "that you'd be her..."

Kurt watched Duncan's every move with eagle eyes. He noted with some satisfaction that Kitty was doing the same, not letting him handle her cup or accepting a drink that he handed her, instead passing it off to Patricia and taking one of her own from the table. _Good Katzchen...bastard would probably try something like that...Then I'd have to kill him. I wouldn't be proud, but I'd have to do it... _ "Katzchen, I'm not going to stay all night, just long enough for Kelly to leave me alone, after the voting."
Duncan snorted. "Pretty Kitty'll be all done by the time you're voted on, Wagner. Right, Kit?"
Kitty slammed her plastic cup down on the table. "Kitty. My name is Kitty. Not Kit, not Katie, not Kit-Kat and not Pretty Kitty. I am Kitty. Got it?" Kitty downed her punch in one gulp, feeling warmth seep down her throat. She panicked briefly but, not tasting alcohol, did not worry overlong, writing the feeling off to a sudden case of acid reflux based on stress.
Duncan laughed. "Whatever...Hey, Patricia, don't you like this song?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah...C'mon, Wagner. We're dancin'!" Patricia, dressed as either a vampire or a prostitute-Kitty was not sure which-grabbed Kurt by the arm and dragged him towards the dance floor.
"It's okay, Kurt," Kitty called to him, silently thankful his pirate costume included long sleeves and gloves a la Errol Flynn, "we'll be out in a minute..." She took up her cup again and wondered briefly if it had been this full when she set it down, then took another long drink, the warmth spreading not just down her throat this time but through her chest and head as well. "Whoa," she murmured. Duncan seemed to swim before her, wavering like a Dali painting, melting and coming back together in one piece with each breath. "What..." she croaked.
"Shhh...take another sip. You're too hot," Duncan said, grinning. He dribbled the remainder of her punch down Kitty's throat anid aid an arm around her waist. "Let's talk a walk, shall we?" Kitty could barely shake her head as he led her on rubber legs out the cafeteria by the side door and towards the courtyard.

Logan did not really expect Beast to be helpful but was pleasantly proven wrong. It was only eight o'clock at night but the doctor was already in his dressing gown, sipping tea in his lab when Logan came to him, quickly rattling off his problem. "Mmmhmmm, mmmhmmm," Beast murmured sagely. "You ran but couldn't stay gone, you had to come back and why do you think that is?" He toyed with the edge of a thin binder in front of him, his nails making clicking noises on the plastic covering.
Logan sighed, settling back onto the leatherette couch across from Beast's desk. "I've got responsibilities. Kitty, Chuck, the upkeep of this place..."
"And Storm." It was not a question but rather a forceful statement. "You came back for her."
"Hank, I don't know what to tell her! How the Hell am I supposed to know if I love her like that? I mean," he stood and started pacing with heavy, hard steps, "damn it, I don't know love!"
"You love Kitty, don't you? And to a certain extent, all the students here?" Hank slid a piece of paper from the binder, glanced at it and a gentle smirk touched his lips before he returned it to the pages from whence it came. "Love doesn't have to be hard. It can be quite simple-you can fall in love with someone you've hardly spoken to or someone you've seen every day of your life and never thought of in that way, just like a lightbulb turns on in your head and there they are..." Beast cleared his throat. "Sorry. Didn't mean to ramble."
Logan raised a brow, leaning over the desk, "Something you got goin' on there, Hank?"
"Erm, no...What I meant was, imagine youfe wfe without Ororo in it. I don't mean without her as a lover, I mean without her at all. You've never known her, never heard of her...now, how do you feel?"
Logan sighed. "I'm actin' like one of them kids, aren't I? I'm an adult, she's an adult...we need to act like it, huh?"
Hank rolled his eyes. "I think she's already doing that, Logan. Look, if you want her in your life, tell her so. Don't let her keep thinking she was just another...trollop...you picked up in a bar or somesuch because she caught your eye."
Logan looked faintly horrified. "Does she think that?"
"I'm not saying she does and I'm not saying she doesn't. Ororo would never accuse you of that outright, but Logan, no matter her bearing, her intellect, her personality, she's still a person, still fragile like all other people. She needs to hear it, not just live off your assumption that she knows how you feel because you grunted an extra time after lovemaking."
Logan stared at his friend, bland-faced, then snorted in laughter. "You're a deep guy sometimes, huh?"
"Sometimes...oh, damn. Just a moment." The phone was ringing shrilly on the counter across the lab and Beast lurched to his feet, crossing the lab in two strides to answer it. "Cecilia7! Yes, I did call earlier...Hmmm? Oh, well, yes, that is why I was calling..." Beast looked over his shoulder at Logan and edged towards the small outer office, just past the counter, shutting the door on the phone cord with him on the other side, reducing his conversation to a dull murmur.
Logan sighed, bored already. The binder on the desk caught his eye and he flipped open the cover only to be met with the smiling face of Doctor Cecilia Reyes on a newspaper clipping. _Huh. That's that woman Chuck sent Hank to talk to a while back about joinin' on here...this her dossier? Wonder why she called...can't be too many Cecilia's with the direct number to Hank's lab, can there? _ Logan flipped the pages idly, noting with growing interest the number of clippings, ranging from full articles to one-sentence blurbs, about Cecilia Reyes. Curiouser and curiouser...Hello there... A thick packet of letters was stuffed into the back of the binder, the topmost being folded so that the opening lines were visible. Logan read with a smirk spreading across his features. _At the risk of sounding like Jubilee...Beast and Cecilia, sittin' in a tree... _

1 Oh, you know those little candy hearts that taste like nasty cereal marshmallows and say things like "Call me" and "I'm Yours" unless you get the dirty kind, which are a lot more fun but still taste like crap.
2 Yeah, I know...I need to get out a lot more, don't I?
3 Am I the only one who remembers the video for "Smells Like Teen Spirit"? Tell me I'm not that old...
4 Ice skating movie...D.B. Sweeney, Moira Kelly..."toe pick!" Ahem. Maybe I'm the only one... heh.
5 French novel by Pauline Reage about the love, submission, domination, power, control, loss, pain, ecstasy....good, good book if you're into that sort of thing. Erotic beyond reason.
6 One of my very good friends is Italian and he always brings back these hideous licorice candies when he goes there. They look like tiny black dots and one of them leaves this anise-fennel-licorice taste in your mouth FOREVER!!!! They're super-strong and just plain gross. But apparently, they're very popular in Italy. Go figure.
7 Thank Foxy for this one... Cecilia Reyes, from comicverse...Beast looooooooooooooooooves her. She doesn't want to acknowledge her mutancy nor does she want to join the X-Men, but it doesn't stop Beast from trying...:)