For a Moment

Disclaimerstyle='font-family:"Arial Narrow"'>: I don'n X-n X-Men Evolution.
"Miserable" is preformed by Lit. I don't own that, either.

Ratingstyle='font-family:"Arial Narrow"'>: PG-13 (mature themes)

Summarystyle='font-family:"Arial Narrow"'>: Lance thinks about the secret he shares
with Kitty…

Author's Notestyle='font-family:"Arial Narrow"'>: Blame the plot bunny for this one, folks.

Feedback and Archivingstyle='font-family:"Arial Narrow"'>: Feedback—positive and constructive—will be
happily accepted. Flames will result in me gleefully hollering
"delete!" as I remove them from my presence. Send all feedback and
archiving requests to: addie_logan@yahoo.com

Shameless Webpage Plugstyle='font-family:"Arial Narrow"'>: If you hated this one, I swear I have
better stuff at my site. If you loved it, then I have lots more wonderful
stories there, too. href="http://www.angelfire.com/scifi/addielogan">http://www.angelfire.com/scifi/addielogan

For a Moment

By: Addie Logan

You make
me come

You make me complete

Youe mee me completely miserable

style='font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial;color:black'>Stuck to a chair
watching this story about me

Everything goes by so fast making my head spin

Used up all of my friends but who needs them?

When you mean everything to me

All of the things that we should fear

I'm not afraid of being here

So much to say

It makes me helpless

style='font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial;color:black'>Nothing to share

Why should I care if you're near me

Give up all of my plans but who needs them

When you mean everything to me

All of the things that we should fear

But I'm not afraid of being here

So much to say it makes me helpless

You make me come

You make me complete

You make me completely miserable

***
*** ***

I'm not sure what I thought would
happen the first time.

I know I didn't expect her to grow
completely cold.

Before, she was polite to me at
least—most of the time. Sometimes, she'd even let her feelings show. I remember
when she'd smile at me, those big blue eyes shining, and everything would seem
perfect.

She never smiles at me anymore.

The first time I was going to stop
it. Really I was. When I realized that I was awake—not dreaming again—that
Kitty was really in my room, I was going to tell her we shouldn't. I was going
to do the right thing for once, prove that I wasn't as bad as she thought I
was.

But then she touched me, and that
plan was shot all to hell.

Afterwards, I tried to talk to her,
tried to make the moment something sweet. Something more than it was.

She silenced me with a bittersweet
kiss, and the look in her eyes let me know that my soft words weren't welcome.

Still, the next time I saw her, I
tried to talk to her. I cared about her. Maybe I'd been wrong the night before,
and she hadn't been giving me the proverbial post-coital brush off. She had
snuck out of that mansion late at night. Maybe she'd just wanted to get back
before she got caught.

But the way she treated me then
told me otherwise. She'd given me the cold shoulder before, but not like this.
She made it clear that she thought I was beneath
her.

So I was pretty surprised when she
came back a week later.

I was going to tell her no. After
the way she'd treated me, why should I let her back in my bed?

But then she started crying. She
told me it all hurt so much. That she couldn't handle the pressures of being an
X-Man anymore. That the burden was too heavy. She
needed me to make her forget. She needed me to make her stop hurting, just for
a little while.

So I did.

Sometimes she'd be gone for
days—weeks—as if she was trying to keep herself from me, to wean class=GramE>herself off the rush I could give her. But she'd always come
back.

It was always dark. We never
talked.

And if I saw her in the light of
day, I was nothing to her.

Every time she came to me, it hurt.
I wanted more. I wanted her to look at me with smi smile again. With those
bright eyes…

Instead I only got soft moans and
glares of contempt.

I realized one day that I was
craving our secret times together as much as she was. I'd lay awake at night,
fighting the urge to seek her out, to be the one to go to her, not always only
her to me. But I'd fight it. I could
rationalize it away if I let her find solace in my bed when it all became too
much for her. What I was doing wasn't wrong. It was okay—I was helping her.

I was doing her a favor, really. It
wasn't for me at all.

Then she stopping coming.

I couldn't sleep at night. I'd lay
awake, listening for her soft feet walking towards my bed as she phased through
my door. But there was only silence.o:p>

I remember the day I knew for
certain she was never coming back again. I saw her. style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>With him. That
big Russian who used to work for Magneto. She wookiooking up at him with
shining blue eyes.

I don't think she even knew I was
there. I didn't go to her, didn't try to claim what I'd never had. He could
give her more than I ever could anyway—something solid, something real.

He could give her more than a
moment.

I walked away, going to find
someone who could make me forget.

***
*** ***

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