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Heat of the Moment	By : DrunkenScotsman Category: X-Men: (All Movies) > Het - Male/Female Views: 4292 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I'm in no way affiliated with Marvel or 20th Century Fox, nor do I own the X-Men multiverse in which the characters move. I'm not getting paid for this piece.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
A/N: I tried for the most part in this chapter to hew close to the film, but decided to utilize certain aspects of the novelization for the increased comedic effect. No idea when I'll be able to update again, so stay tuned.

Chapter 7: … And Ride the Dragon’s Wings

Nearly three weeks had passed since “the event,” during which Iceman confronted Pyro while searching for Rogue among seekers of the Cure and Wolverine nearly got himself killed in an attempt to convince Jean to return. Iceman exhausted himself in his efforts to save dozens of innocent lives and spent the next day resting in the infirmary, but Wolverine had defied Magneto and had been turned into a rail-gun projectile for his trouble. Wolverine needed no recuperation, but told anyone who asked that it had taken him a day to heal from all the internal injuries he received. The girls of the Institute split evenly into two camps over which was “dreamier”.
Jubilee, for example, vouched for Wolverine: “Wolverine totally wins! He stared down the Master of Magnetism, who by the way can turn him into a puppet!” Everyone knew that Jubilee had an enormous crush on the burly Canadian.
Danielle Moonstar, on the other hand, countered, “Yeah, but Bobby actually succeeded, and saved a lot of people to boot. You can’t go wrong with a guy who puts himself on the line to help strangers.”
“Logan was fahtin’ fer the woman he loves,” Rogue added softly. “Ain’t nothin’ more romantic, Ah reckon.”
“Aye, that’s romantic,” conceded Theresa, her third-generation Irish brogue faintly lilting. “Bobby’s work was a wee bit more heroic, though, since it saved the lives not only of the doctors and nurses and patients, but firefighters as well.” The other girls knew of Theresa’s soft spot for those who helped out public servants, since she had a few living and late uncles and aunts on the NYPD and the NYFD.
“Maybe you guys could, like, call it a tie?” Kitty suggested, for the sake of avoiding suspicions. Privately, of course, she belonged squarely in the ‘Iceman’ camp. Kitty’s mediation proved vain, though, for the others remained divided.
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Tensions on the outside continued to rise steadily and nearly erupted into violence on several occasions, but the X-Men knew it was only a matter of time, and their time was coming soon.
When the time came, Iceman spoke at length with the others, not wanting for anyone to hold the slightest uncertainty when boarding the X-Jet. Colossus, Shadowcat, and the new kid – christened “Angel” for obvious reasons – had volunteered. Iceman placed a hand on Colossus’ massive shoulder and Shadowcat’s slim one. What a pair these two make, he mused, only a hint of jealousy bubbling forth at the thought.
Wolverine had only reluctantly accepted the presence of the younger members of the team after a gruff warning about the dangers they’d face and the high stakes involved. Iceman reassured him – reassured all of them – “We’re X-Men.”
Wolverine held Iceman’s gaze for a long, long moment. He gave a curt nod and led them aboard the plane. Meanwhile, Iceman leaned back to whisper to Shadowcat, “That might’ve gone more smoothly if you hadn’t made the quip about the uniforms.” A suppressed giggle was the only response.
The X-Jet rumbled through takeoff, and before long the X-Men were riding west on the light of the fading sun. The interior of the jet remained eerily quiet, each of the team members preparing themselves mentally for the trial ahead. Iceman happened to glance to this right, finding himself under the thoughtful scrutiny of a certain petite brunette from across the aisle. He favored her with what he hoped was a brave smile, which she returned.
Unknown to each other, they shared the same thought: I hope I don’t get distracted in the middle of the fight because I’m worried about him/her. Their hands drifted across the aisle to touch, then clasp briefly, sending one another a touch of reassurance.
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Upon arrival at Alcatraz, the X-Men immediately leapt into the fray. Each descended from the X-Jet in heroic fashion, except for Iceman; Shadowcat wrapped an arm around his waist and sprung from the aircraft. Both felt only the slightest rise of heart-rate, chalking up the twitches in their stomachs to nerves regarding the impending battle.
Instead of the teens splattering on the ground, Shadowcat shifted their solidity so that the solid ground behaved more like liquid ocean, causing them to buoy back to the surface. Unfortunately, Shadowcat’s phasing seemed to nauseate others even when she wasn’t meaning to, and Iceman looked pitiful with his green-around-the-gills face when they surfaced. Sparing but a moment for a half-glare on his part and a half-impish expression on hers, they parted ways to do battle.
Shadowcat had taken ballet lessons since she turned four, and she had attained prima ballerina status just before her power manifested. Combined with said power of selective intangibility, her grace, agility, leg strength, and comprehensive knowledge of angular momentum made her a very dangerous opponent for the Brotherhood, who to a mutant underestimated her due to her petite, fragile-seeming frame.
She kicked their asses, and they never saw it coming.
When Magneto sent in the Juggernaut to find the little boy whose genes spawned the Cure, Shadowcat gave chase. She played the mouse as he tried to crush her, reaching the boy first through sheer guile – the Juggernaut, not the brightest bulb in the box, charged past as she dodged to the side like a bullfighter.
Meanwhile, Iceman – never a good fist-fighter but always finding clever uses for his power – created ice sheets to trip up his adversaries or columns to entrap them. By and large he avoided close combat if at all possible, deploying cold-blasts like those of a fire extinguisher to the faces when necessary to create space.
Pyro’s assault with fiery cars changed the equation. The X-Men scrambled for cover under the improvised artillery strike. Wolverine swiftly assessed the available resources and arrived at the obvious conclusion. “Popsicle,” he growled, the nickname irking Iceman to no end, “think you can take out your old friend?”
Iceman nodded and stepped forth to duel his former roommate, his erstwhile friend. They locked horns in a classic battle of fire and ice, appearing to the ever-observant Colossus like something out of one of those anime shows that Jubilee was so fond of watching. Pyro slowly forced Iceman to kowtow, enveloped in flames too bright to look at directly. Colossus turned away, fearful for his friend and called to other obligations as an X-Man as Wolverine continued to lay out his strategy.
Pyro couldn’t resist one last insult before he melted the Iceman. “You shoulda stayed in your nice, safe school, Bobby.”
From the midst of the flames rose Iceman, his codename no longer a moniker, but a literal description of the young man’s powers. He grasped Pyro’s flamethrowers and flash-froze them into brittle shells, depriving his foe of his fuel source, exploiting the fire-wielder’s inability to create flame. Pyro stared in disbelief at the transformation, at the wholly-unexpected harbinger of his defeat. Iceman used the distraction to deliver a soccer-style headbutt to Pyro’s face, forgetting just how hard blocks of ice are.
“You never should’ve left,” Iceman retorted. The flames died as Pyro fell bonelessly, blood streaming from his nose.
Iceman looked down, taking in the sight of the unconscious mutant. Funny, he mused, I thought this moment would be really satisfying… instead, I feel kinda sorry for Pyro, mixed-up kid that he is. Slowly he relaxed, returning himself to his normal appearance. Upon doing so, however, he noticed a distinct draft; a glance down at himself confirmed his suspicions.
No longer ice, Bobby Drake was unwillingly demonstrating that he was a man to anyone who could see him.
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Elsewhere on the island, the X-Men had felled Magneto, but the Phoenix took the field, atomizing practically anything in her path. Iceman hefted the dead weight of Pyro over his shoulder, unable even to cover himself as he darted from rubble pile to rubble pile, hiding from the mass exodus of Army and Marines from the island. He had nearly reached the X-Jet when the Phoenix unraveled it.
Heaving a sigh heavenward, he now made a bee-line for the Golden Gate Bridge, modesty utterly forgotten in a mad scramble for survival. With each step he grew more worried about Shadowcat – not because of the Juggernaut, because she was way too smart for him; because of the Phoenix and the fact that she might have been in the X-Jet just now. God, if you’re up there, he prayed, uncertain how to do so through total lack of practice, please let her be okay… and long gone already.
As if on cue, Shadowcat emerged from behind the adjacent smoldering ruin of an SUV with a boy of eight or nine in tow. After the near-miss with the Juggernaut – the boy’s power causing the mountain of a man to knock himself out – she’d watched in horror as the X-Jet disintegrated. Panicking, she tugged the boy – Jimmy, his codename “Leech” doubly appropriate because of his power and its medicinal use – toward the bridge-head that Magneto had so courteously provided.
She nearly slammed on the brakes, though, when she caught sight of Iceman – or rather, of Bobby Drake in all his glory. My kingdom for a camera, she thought wryly. The girls would pay handsomely for this kind of footage. For his part, Iceman decided that God existed and had a wicked sense of humor when he made eye contact with the ponytailed brunette. The boy squeezed his eyes tightly shut; the young man desperately wished he could, knowing that the only thing preventing him from turning scarlet was the complete inability to blush.
"Ummm... hi," Bobby managed.
"Hi," Kitty replied.
"So... we oughta find a way off this island," Bobby added, trying to kick both of them into gear.
Kitty swallowed and nodded. "Don't... don't get too close... this is Jimmy. He, um, neutralizes powers within a certain radius; they used his genes to make the Cure."
Bobby nodded. "I'll, um, keep my distance. Just in case ice is needed for... anything."
Kitty nodded again, and the young mutants climbed onto the remains of the Golden Gate Bridge, headed toward San Francisco.
Kitty tried to be good; honestly she did. She kept her eyes up on Bobby’s face until they began walking side-by-side, though at a distance, towards their escape route. She noted him carrying Pyro, needing both hands to hold him steady, and put the pieces together. Maybe I can help design a cold-resistant uniform, she mused, trying to focus on that idea rather than on the way the remaining fires’ lights created intriguing shadows across the young man’s bare skin.
She tried to keep her eyes straight ahead, but curiosity, as always, overcame her. She got quite an eyeful before forcing herself to look up. Experiences bathing younger male cousins allowed her to identify the signs of circumcision, which simultaneously surprised her and relieved a bit of the guilt of sleeping with him.
The only thing preventing both teens from arousal rather than embarrassment was the imminent danger they faced coupled with exhaustion from their prior efforts. The world around them seemed to be coming apart at the seams, and they couldn’t clamber up to the bridge’s hardtop fast enough. Once they finally reached a safe distance, they waited for an ambulance; the subsequent ride to the hospital was long and silent, neither teen able to muster the strength to interact.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Heat of the Moment