The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

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


A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, I think Ted finally got over it. Billy and Joaquin sat him down, plied him with Guinness and basically convinced him you weren't going to run off with Andrea Bocelli or somesuch. He's feeling much, much better now. InterNutter, TC and Maxwell Pink are sparkled and shiny for archiving. Readers/Reviewers: Okay. The hot glue gun has been returned but the disturbing part is that it was attached to a platypus and said creature was looking worse for wear so he's in Southern Hemisphere animal triage right now. Seems to be a message of sorts from the Killer Kitties (tm)

"I see you've done your research," Amara said, smirking as she tapped her fingers on Lance's chest, pinning him with her knees on either side of his hips. "Love the wolf theme..."
"Well, it _is _ Lupercalia," he allowed somewhat breathlessly. Amara had been surprised, to say the least, when she came into her own room to see it done up in a Bayville version of a Roman temple. She had not even pointed out the thematic problems with most of the décor, how it had nothing to do with the holiday itself, so moved was she that Lance went to all the trouble. Lance was just pleased she had not slapped him or yelled at him for coming into her room while she was out.
"Mmmmm...yes, it is....guess we'd better make use of the time the gods allowed for pleasures of the flesh then, shouldn't we?" She raked her nails down his skin, raising red marks all the way to his stomach, making him gasp and shudder. "Are you taking a turn for the Nova Roman then? This is the second time you've celebrated one or hor holidays with me..." She slid down his body so that she was sitting on his legs and began kissing the red marks she had left on his skin, darting her tongue out every few inches and sucking at random intervals.
Lance had to pause to collect himself, his mind quickly taking a more southerly course than before. "Your holidays just seem to be more fun than mine...Not much guilt or present buying on 'em, either."
Amara chuckled, brushing her fingers against his length where it pressed against her breasts. "So yoink ink you can get out of presents? Just for that, you don't get your Valentine's gift." She closed her mouth over the very end of his arousal and sucked hard enough to make Lance moan but not as hard as he wanted her to.
"You're not being very nice, you know," he gasped after several minutes of her teasing torture, feather-light licks and strokes interspersed with hard, eye-rolling suckling on his length.
"Ask me if I care," she murmured, coming up for air. She crawled back up his body to kiss him on the lips, the salty fluid on her lips from his arousal not repulsing him but making him jerk in surprise nonetheless. "Oh, don't be such a baby. You kiss me after you go down on me all the time." Lance made a vague, noncommittal noise in his throat as Amara kissed him again, biting his lower lip a little too hard. "Now, be good or I'll just have to celebrate on my own."
"Um, Princess? That's not as much of a threat as you think it is," he muttered, his mind already dancing with images of Amara in the throes of self-gratification. "Though," he admitted when she narrowed her gaze, "I guess it wouldn't be nearly as fun."
"Thought so." She moved to kiss him again and barely had time to register the smirk that crossed his face before she found her self flat on her back, Lance pinning her arms above her head as he nudged her legs apart with his knee.
"I never did get to finish last time," he said, kissing her neck and throat, moving down to kiss her breasts, leaving tiny bite marks as he went. Amara struggled some, but they both knew it was part of their game, that she really did not want him to stop.
"And what makes you think you'll get to this time?" she asked, arching her back slightly as he moved down her stomach, tiny thrills of pleasure ng ang away up her spine with each kiss he pressed to her skin.
Lance snorted and bit her, laving the spot afterwards, her hiss of surprise making him all the more eager for the eventual joining. As always, he felt the deep need to linger when he reached her lower abdomen, the span of flesh and muscle between her hipbones. Every time he touched her there, he could not help but think of the life that dwelled within her briefly, how he was responsible, at least in part, and wondered what would have happened if Tabby had never beaten Amara sdly,dly, if the pregnancy had continued. Amara seemed to pick up on this because she sighed, relaxing back into the mattress and twining her fingers into his hair. Lance chanced a glance at her and saw she had closed her eyes and seemed to be trying to hold back a choke of emotion, judging by the working in her throat. "Do you wonder, too?" he asked softly, moving up to kiss her, a chaste expression on the corner of her mouth that bore only affection, not a trace of their recent passion.
"All the time," she finally said with a hitch in her voice. She swiped at the tears on her cheeks and sniffled against the back of her hand. Lance sighed, though not with disappointment at the obvious end to their amorous advances towards each other that evening, and rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. Amara was shaking with the effort it took not to cry, pressing her face against his chest and clenching her hands around his arms.
"I love you, Amara," he said against her hair, clutching her to him as much as she was to her. The dam burst and she sobbed openly against him, drawing a betraying prickle of moisture to his eyes. She sobbed louder and Lance sighed again, pulling the sheet over them both. Oddly, he found he was not upset that the plans for the night were ruined or that she was obviously still depressed on some level about the loss of her unborn child so many months ago. Instead, he felt contented to be there with her and wondered dimly if that meant he was turning into Scott Summers, happy to lay with her even though they were far from sex. _Sounds like something One-Eye would do, and damn it if he didn't have the right idea all along. _

"You are not going out dressed like that!" Scott growled to Jean, still clutching her arm from when he had dragged her into the room.
"Scott, if you don't let go of my arm right now, I'm going to send you through that wall." Jean's voice was edged with steel but she did a happy dance on the inside that Scott seemed to actually give a damn that she was going out without him. "You don't want to go with me and I'll be damned if I'm staying home and moping because you're a big baby!" She wrenched her arm free from his slackening grip and backed a few paces towards the door.
"I'm not being a baby! I had something planned for tonight actually, but if you're going to be a...a ditz about everything then I'm not going to do it!" Scott crossed his arms over his chest and looked away, inwardly wincing at the childish tone in his voice.
Jean raised one auburn brow and smiled despite herself. "A ditz? Well, then, Mister Maturity, guess I'll have to miss out..." She turned to open the door but her own burst of childish ill humor overcame her as well. "And just for the record, I had something I was going to do tonight, too, but I'm not gonna now!" _So ner. _
"Your ass is showing." Scott said with great irritation in his voice.
"Fuck you, Scott," she grinned over her shoulder as she opened the door. "I'm going to the dance and having a good time." _No I'm not. _
He was behind her, shoving the door closed, before she could react. "Damn it, Jean, I got mad because I was jealous, okay? I can't stand the thought of you with anyone else, not even something like you were planning to do with Duncan. I felt literally ill at the idea of him touching you even a little bit. I hated myself for not trusting you and I hated him for making you do that!"
Jean stared at him, slightly thrown by his outburst. Waves of anger, embarrassment, love and, strangely, desire, were pouring off of him and washing over her, making her feel like every cell in her body was vibrating. "He..." she swallowed hard, finding herself effected deeply by Scott's emotions, "he didn't _make _ me do anything. I wanted to find out what the Hell he was doing and why he seems to be so focused on Kitty, but she threw herself on that unexploded grenade so now I don't have to go out with him...I'm babbling, aren't I?" Scott had come steadily closer as she spoke and now their lips were a hair's breadth away from touching.
"I don't care," he murmured in return, closing the distance and kissing her, her parted lips allowing his tongue entry, making her sag against him stly tly at the onslaught of his feelings pouring into her, partially from her opening her mind to him and partially because, Jean thought to herself, he was always one Hell of a kisser. His hands came up to knead and stroke her breasts, his thumbs running lazy circles around her peaking nipples and raising a soft moan from her throat. She pressed against him, feeling his growing arousal and suddenly remembering what she had really wanted to do that night. She broke away and took several deep breaths, looking at Scott's slightly dazed expression. "Wh...what?" he finally managed when he had regained some composure, trying not to look obvious about adjusting his discomfort and failing miserably.
"Scott, I have a confession to make." Jean sighed and took his hands in hers. "I didn't really want to go to the dance tonight and I was hoping that you would stop me..."
He laughed outright at that, pulling her into a hug. "Well, to be totally honest, if you had even left the house, I would've gone after you and dragged you back here..."
Jean rolled her eyes. "I'm in love with a cave man...but look, that's not all...I was trying to think of a way to show you I wasn't going after other guys or going to leave you and I could only think of one thing. It's something I know you've wanted to do for a long time...no, not _that _!..." Jean looked down at their joined hands for a moment and took a long, deep breath. "Okay, I know I've sort of freaked out about this before, but Scott, will you marry me?"
"Huh?" Upon reflection, that was not the best statement to make, he realized. Jean's face underwent a remarkable transformation from surprised to hurt to anger before he managed to stutter, "No, no, wait! I was just...damn it! Here!" He reached in his pocket and pulled out a box, shoving it at her. "Great minds think alike..." It was a silver ring set with her birthstone, plain and simple and she was stunned.
." ." She said in a squeak.
"Yeah. Oh." Scott ran his hands through his hair and sighed. "We're really young."
"But we love each other."
"Yeah, we do, don't we?" Scott smiled crookedly.
Jean nodded. "Okay. We're engaged then."
"Did I say yes?" he teased.
"Well, if you're going to be that way about it..." she closed the lid to the box with a snap and handed it back only to snicker at the suddenly panicked look on Scott's face. "Okay, okay, we're both agreeable to the situation then."
"Yes."
"And there's no time limit on this, is there? Not like we have to get married right after graduation or anything?" she asked with a hint of nervousness in her voice.
Scott shook his head, feeling aglow and goofy. "No time limit. In fact, if you don't mind, I was thinking that we could keep this just between us right now, you know, to keep down the uproar..."
"I was going to suggest the same thing." Jean nodded, making her pigtails bounce. "So, what do we do now?" she asked after a moment of uncertain silence in which she slid the ring onto the middle finger of her left hand. "For now," she said, noting Scott's expression.
"For now..." he agreed. "What do we do now? Well, getting engaged always makes me hungry..." he smiled at her.
She smirked. "Makes me cold...How about I go put on some clothes and meet you in the kitchen for Valentine's dinner?"
"Sure...we have frozen waffles or...huh. Frozen waffles is it, I think..." he shrugged. "Tomorrow's grocery day."
"Frozen waffles are fine. In fact, I can't think of a better start to almost-married."

_I'm a little teapot, short and stout, this is my handle, this is my spout, when I get all steamed up hear me shout _, "_Tip _ me over and _pour _ me _out _!" Kitty shouted the last, though it came out slurred and almost unintelligible. "Hey, why my bed all smooshy and wet?" she asked blearily, trying to sit up and finding that her muscles worked as well as wet noodles would in their place. "Where's my ceiling?"
Duncan leaned over here. "Hello, Kitty," he snickered. "Got the camera, Patricia?"
Patricia Garrison leaned into view. "Dude, she doesn't look so good...she's gone all pale."
"She's always that color...it's that black crap around her eyes makin' her look bad," Duncan said as if he had been repeating himself for hours.
Part of Kitty'ain ain knew something was wrong but most of it was making burbling noises and singing the Band-Aid jingle. She looked up at Duncan from her place on the grass and bleated drunkenly "I am stuck on Band-Aids cause Band-Aids' stuck on me!"
"Great. You overdid it, dumb ass!" Patricia growled. "Get on with it...That freak she's with is gonna notice she's gone soon."
"Where'd ya leave him?" Duncan disappeared from Kitty's view and there were rustling noises that made the rational part of her brain scream in a most alarming fashion.
"He saw that Sefton chick, the one who won't leave him alone, all over the foreign kid. Guess she has a thing for Eurotrash."
Kitty felt moved to defend Kurt. "You wouldn't know Eurotrash if it bit you on the ass, jerk-off," she growled as if through a mouthful of cotton wool, her words running together and thick. "Kurt mine, not hers," she said with a nod that made her eyes swim about in their sockets. "Oooooh...." She groaned as a wave of nausea washed over her.
"Dude, she's so gonna be sick..." Patricia retreated several steps and looked down at the prone girl with no small amount of disgust.
"Shut up! Get ready to start takin' the pictures!" Duncan dragged Kitty to her knees and leaned her against the skinny pine tree that passed for landscaping in the courtyard. He fiddled with his zipper, finally freeing himself and grasping her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Open your mouth, Kitty...smile pretty for the camera."
Kitty would dimly remember being horrified, trying to get her arms and legs to work but failing miserably. She remembered wanting Kurt to show up so badly that she was sure she was imagining it when he burst through the side door to the cafeteria and into the courtyard, looking frantically around before he saw the trio near the pine and benches. She did clearly remember the rising nausea, though, and the world spinnis shs she saw Kurt abandoning all sense of self preservation and running in a quadrepedal gait towards them. She made a noise that was a cross between a belch and a groan, feeling her gorge rising, and pitched forward, seizing the first thing her hands came into contact with, Duncan's pants. As she slumped towards the ground, Kitty dragged his football uniform pants down with her. Kurt screeched to a halt next to Patricia who was covering her eyes with the air of a Scooby Doo villain having their plot foiled. There, before Kurt's astonished eyes, stood Duncan Matthews in... "Hey, Kurt, he's got panties on!" Kitty said from the ground, happily talking to what she assumed was a hallucination of her boyfriend.
Kurt was not sure if he should laugh or hit Duncan. Duncan's next move decided for him. He shoved Kitty roughly, knocking her head against the tree and then against the cement bench next to it, making her groan loudly. Kurt bounded forward and grabbed the first thing he could, his plastic sword. Duncan was caught with his pants literally around his ankles, making fighting back difficult as movement was hampered. Patricia retreated to the vicinity of the bench as Kurt laid into Duncan with his fists and the sword, giving every appearance of knowing how to use the real thing if the need ever arose. "Freak! Get offa me!" Duncan cried, throwing Kurt to the ground and hurrying to pick up his pants.
Kitty yelled, "Avenge me, babe!" as she waved her arms in the air.
"Anything for you, Liebes," Kurt growled, launching himself at Duncan before the larger teenager could get his pants up. The fight was not quite fair, despite Kurt's agility and speed as compared to Duncan's slower movements. He could not use his powers and had to be careful of his holo at all times, so he ended up getting hit several times in the face and stomach.
Kitty felt reality slowly returning. "Hey, get offa him!" she said to Duncan, lurching to her feet and sprawling on the back of the football player who was currently atop Kurt, pummeling him. "You're wearing a girlie thong!" she giggled, the vestiges of her stupor finding the situation more funny than serious. "Hey!" She saw Patricia sneaking back towards the school. "Be back, babe," she slurred, staggering after the rlearleader. Patricia either did not see her as a threat or was not paying attention, because Kitty's drunken punch knocked her onto her rear. The camera went skittering across the sidewalk and Kitty smiled. "Thank you!" she crowed to Patricia, leaving her on the ground and picking up the camera. She walked the zig-zag pattern of a drunk back to where the two boys were fighting and said, "Hey, Duncan!"
"Huh?" he snorted, rising to his knees. Kurt looked at Kitty, camera in hand, and decided it would be in his best interest to get out of the way of the shot. Heted ted from beneath Duncan to just behind Kitty as she pressed the button on the camera, the flash temporarily blinding the football player. "Bitch!" he snarled, realizing what she had done.
"Bad Duncan!" she said in a pouty voice. "Bad, bad Duncan."
Kurt wiped a ribbon of blood from his chin and nose. "Schatz, we need to get you to Beast...er, Hank. Now."
"Okely dokely1, sweetie!" she said, leaning against him heavily. "Bye bye now!" Kurt winced as he drag-walked her towards the shadows of the courtyard, trying to ignore Duncan lurching to his feet and roaring after them. He ported as the football player got his pants up, Kitty's wide eyes turned up to meet his. "Hey," she said as they appeared in the parking lot of Bayville High, the last row, last slot, darkest corner possible, "you're not Kurt! You're a pirate! Bad, bad pirate!" she said, beating his chest slightly.
"Ja, Katzchen, I'm a pirate. And I'm taking you back to walk the plank to the med lab, okay?"
"Okey dokey. Hi-diddly dee, a pirate's life for me2!" she swooned. "Hey!" Kurt had her halfway into the car when she jerked into an upright position, whacking her head on the doorframe. "What about Amanda...Amaaaaaaandaaaaaa...Amidalaaaaaaaa3...."
"She'll be fine...she has a ride home with Paolo." Kurt bent her legs with some effort and tucked her into the front seat.
"Paaaaaaaaa-oooooooooooooo-looooooooooooo" Kitty crooned, rocking her head from side to side. "I feel all stretchy, like a rubber band. _Sprong_!" This last was said with a slingshot motion of fingers.
Kurt hurried around to the driver's side of the car and got in just as Kitty slumped dangerously to one side. "Come on, Liebes...Stay awake for a bit, okay?"
Kitty nodded and rolled her head to one side. "Happy Valentimes4 Day!"
"You too, Schatz," he sighed. "You too..."


A/N Okay next one is last one.... Logan and Ro, Remy and Jubes, A bit of Beast and Cecilia and Kurtty...*g*
1 Ned Flanders, anyone?
2 Peter Pan animated movie. Wahoo.
3 Doped up people can be fun...I will personally smack you if you don't know where I got Amidala from.
4 Yes, I know I misspelled it...