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skylarstark4826 · 9 months ago

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Sparks were a huge part of Warren Peace's life.

Everything seemed to start with them. His mother and father had felt that proverbial spark, fucked, and created him.

He, in turn, shot sparks from his fingertips, just like the old man. They created huge, blazing bonfires, or small blazes.

There was a spark of evil in his father. It drove him insane, made him commit heinous acts that make Warren cringe mentally. (He tried to never let pain outside).

One thing was for certain, at least.

Warren had never experienced any good kind of spark. The only time he felt at peace (no pun intended) with the flames inside him was when he put on his show for his mother. Even then, he felt as though he were trying to atone for a crime (or several) that he didn't commit.

(He didn't bother to remind himself he was being a hypocrite; hadn't he blamed Stronghold for something his father did? And it wasn't as if the old man hadn't deserved it. But still).

Stronghold.

Just the name made Warren's blood boil.

The kid was so incredibly stupid. He was immature and naïve and worse, he still had round, childish features.

He couldn't understand why Gwen Grayson liked him so much.

Not that Warren had ever liked Gwen, either. He hadn't. She was like the brunette, superhero version of a Barbie doll, and he couldn't stand it.

In his opinion, they were a match made in heaven. Or hell. Depending on the perspective.

What was painful was watching his old sidekick friends stare after him like lost puppies. Especially Layla Williams. Her gray eyes held so much hurt and betrayal, he couldn't stand to look at her for long. (So why did his eyes constantly rest on her whenever she was in sight?)

He found himself observing her. The way she walked (and how her ass looked when she did it) the bright red of her hair (he clenched his fists, imagining tangling his fingers in it while he… or better, while she…), her smile.

Her smile.

For some reason, it got to him. It looked almost familiar, and made something stir inside him that he kept trying to push back.

Warren decided he really needed to get laid. Soon. Get these damn hormones out of his system so that maybe he'd stop noticing Stronghold's friend. (Even if it was his subconscious messing with him. On a conscious level, he still hadn't really registered this fatal attraction).

Because everyone knew that "future villains" and hippies just don't mix.

Warren really fucking hated his boss.

Seriously. Warren wasn't even fucking Asian. He'd picked up quite a bit of their language, and had recently started taking tons of shifts, but that didn't mean the retarded, short, Yoda-like pig could yell at him like an indentured fucking servant. In Chinese.

Asshole.

Warren huffed out a breath and resisted the urge to roast him, instead reaching for a wet cloth and wiping down one of the tables.

He tossed the cloth back into the sink, and was about to get a fresh one when one of the women yelled from the kitchen.

"There a girl that been sitting there for long time. Ask if she need something!"

If there was one thing Warren hated, it was customer interaction.

Grumbling under his breath, he approached the booth she had pointed at. "Still workin' on that?"

The girl looked up sharply.

Red hair.

Gray eyes.

Tantalizing curves she never showed off properly.

Fuck.

"Hey," Layla said.

"Hey." Well. This was awkward.

"We go to school together."

Warren nodded, shifted on his feet. "You're Stronghold's friend." Stronghold's, Peace. Fucking Stronghold's. Pull yourself together, would ya?

To his surprise, Layla scowled, and Warren watched in a little bit of awe as the flower in the vase on the table wilted a bit. "Not for long."

Warren couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that, but then he looked away. Just because she and Stronghold were having issues didn't mean he was nominated for Replacement BFF. Or better, FWB. "Yeah… So… Uh….Want me to heat that up for ya?"

Layla looked back at him, seeming shocked. "You're not supposed to use your powers outside of school!"

Oh yeah. That was in the handbook, wasn't it? Warren vaguely remembered skimming over it before turning it into ash.

Unable to resist, he leaned closer to her, so close he could see the blue flecks in her eyes. "I was only going to stick it in the microwave."

Layla's eyes widened, and she blushed as red as her hair, then leaned back jerkily. "Oh."

Warren smirked.

"Um, I was, um," (Did he really get her that worked up?), "supposed to be meeting Will here, but…You wanna sit down?" She gave him a small smile. Not the one he loved, but…

Warren blinked once, not quite believing this was really happening, then glanced back to make sure the boss from hell wasn't watching.

"I guess they can spare me a minute," he sighed, and slid into the booth across from her.

He felt his knees touch hers and froze as he finally felt what he'd wanted to feel his whole life; good sparks.

Warren's entire body relaxed. He looked her in the eyes. The he smiled, really truly smiled, and a tiny blaze lit on his finger.

Layla had started to smile back, probably without even realizing it, then her eyes jumped to the flame.

Warren reached over and lit the candle in front of them, then let the flame extinguish. She giggled.

(She didn't berate him about the no-powers-outside-of-school-thing, either. Mission fucking accomplished.)

"So Stronghold ditched ya?" Warren asked, leaning forward subconsciously, trying his hardest not to stare at her lips.

"Yeah. He's been…a jerk lately." He could tell she was holding back, and it irked him.

"Don't hold back. Call him what you want to." He deserves it. Warren smiled, "I promise you won't corrupt me."

Layla ran her eyes over him, and Warren felt a sort of warmth rush throughout his body. Girls checked him out on a daily basis, but this felt different.

"He's been a complete and utter… Ass! A total asshole!"

Warren grinned, extremely amused. "Ha! Wow. Never thought I'd hear Hippy cuss. I'm proud."

And in some weird way, he was.

Layla smiled a little and shrugged, looking down at the table.

"So why'd he ditch you? I mean, I always figured he was a few tools short of the whole shed, but…" Damn. He hadn't meant to let the compliment slip out.

But it made Layla smile a little more. It was so close to that smile… "He's probably off with Gwen."

Figured that was what was going on… "I would say green isn't a pretty color, but that's pretty much all you wear."

As though his emotions were connected to hers, he could sense something change instantly inside Layla. She turned from docile and harmless into a hurricane in less time than it took to blink. "Damn it, I am not jealous!"

She slapped her hand down on the table, and Warren resisted the urge to jump. That was a violent gesture, and even though he didn't really know Layla Williams, he knew she was not a violent person. At all.

"I'm mad! No, I'm furious! Will has been my best friend since we were in diapers, and now we go to a new school and he sees one pretty- well, okay, perfect- girl, and all of it's down the drain? I mean, what the fuck. This is ridiculous, I don't even know why I'm still here."

She was so goddam hot when she was pissed.

She flushed in the most delicious of ways, and warm tremors ran through Warren's whole body, and he could practically see sparks flying off her from pure anger. He wasn't sure if they were good or not.

But he liked them.

Still, she was throwing quite a fit, and if Boss Man saw him sitting down the last few minutes of his shift… "Geez, Hippy, take one of your chill pills would ya? There are other customers in here."

Layla froze across from him, every inch of her body going rigid. He watched several thoughts flit across her face at once, and none of them were good. (He was amazed. She wasn't guarded the least bit. She was completely pure and expected no one to take advantage of her. Deep down inside, it made Warren feel protective over her, but there was no way in hell he'd admit it).

"Oh my God," she breathed, and just as instinct told him to reach over across the table and put his hand over hers before she had a complete meltdown, and his fingers twitched, about to do just that, she focused those gray eyes on the flower in the vase, and he watched as it bloomed bigger than it had been before.

She created, and he destroyed.

He never felt so unworthy in his entire life. (Guiltily, all the half-realized fantasies he'd been having surfaced, and he almost blushed with shame. Only almost, though. He was Warren Fucking Peace after all).

Finally, he said, "You okay?"

"Um, yeah. God, Warren, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I mean, I-" Layla stuttered.

Warren inconspicuously glanced at the clock. Shift over. Yes. "Just stop. Wait here."

He got to his feet and yanked off the stupid apron he was forced to wear. (Why the fucking hell did he have to wear the damn thing anyway? He wasn't a dumb ass cook).

He retied his hair back because the stupid loose strands got on his nerves (not for Layla Fucking Williams), then swung his jacket over his shoulder.

He was overheated enough without wearing it.

He grabbed a fortune cookie on the way out, one of many with the same fortune inside it, along the wall in a thousand cardboard boxes. Sorting those out was such a bitch.

He grabbed one that he thought fit Layla's situation. It could come in handy.

He also grabbed another, a bit of a plan forming.

Maybe if he let this whole Will thing get out of her system, she'd give him a chance.

"Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you home," Warren said it as casually as possible, and he hadn't realized until just then that that was his intent, but whatever. (He was such a motherfucking retard. He didn't even know where she lived and this was Stronghold's best friend and she was too innocent for him anyway and this whole stupid ass thing was a bad idea.)

But Layla didn't question him. She nodded slowly, left a ten on the table, followed him outside.

His body followed hers automatically, and they fell into step walking down the sidewalk.

"Normally I'd ride my bike, but I don't think we're quite to that level yet." Warren smirked, carefully observed her reaction.

"You have a motorcycle. Why am I not surprised? That's very cliché you know." Layla teased, but was that a flash of nervousness behind her eyes? Interesting.

(And "yet"? What the hell did he expect to happen?)

Still, roles seemed to be reversed with her. She was the flame, he the moth.

And for once, he didn't really mind.

"Oh please. I'm the only one around here that can really pull it off." He bumped against her, unable to resist himself.

She grinned, and Warren's stomach tied itself into knots just like a fucking girl. "That's more like it." That was hissmile.

HAD THAT BEEN OUT LOUD? FUCKING HELL, PEACE.

Layla looked away and cleared her throat a little, and he resisted the urge to flame up and punch something. He was so incredibly retarded.

"I really am sorry. About that. That is not me, not at all." She apologized sheepishly.

"I know. So. Will is with Gwen, and now you're in agony because you're in love with him."

Oh, the bitter irony. The one girl he feels that fated spark with, the one he's waited pretty much his whole damn life for, and fucking Stronghold turns her on.

To his surprise, Layla's mouth dropped open in indignation. "I am not in love with Will Stronghold!"

Warren simply eyed her doubtfully, refusing to hope.

"I'm not!"

"You have to be at least crushing. It's incredibly obvious." Warren couldn't resist an eye roll.

"Crushing I can admit to," Layla said.

Crushing Warren could deal with. He'd made plenty of girls swoon that had "crushes" on other guys. Crushing was in no way permanent, and not nearly as sticky as loving.

"So why don't you just ask him to Homecoming and get it over with?"

"Two problems: Gwen, and also his stuck up attitude here lately. He won't even answer my calls, out long acknowledge me in person." He could hear the sadness in her voice, see the way her shoulders slumped as she stared down at the concrete.

Familiar anger rushed through him on her behalf. Stronghold really was an ignorant asshole. Couldn't he see what was right in front of him?

"Stronghold really is an idiot," he huffed. No harm in letting her know that he thought well of her, right? "Alright, Hippy. Just ask him. Get to the bus stop early tomorrow if you have to. I'm assuming he's been avoiding you there, too?"

Walk before you run, Peace. She wants Stronghold.

For now.

Deciding now was a good time to break out the first fortune cookie, he took it out of his pocket, bit into it. "Besides, to let true love remain unspoken is the quickest route to a heavy heart."

Warren always had liked how poetic these things sounded, to be wrapped up inside a bland, twisted little cookie.

Layla stared at him, clearly impressed. "Wow. That is really deep."

Silly Hippy. Hadn't she seen him eat the fortune cookie?

"Yeah," Warren nodded, fighting back a smile. "And your lucky numbers are 4, 16, 5... and 49."

"Oh my God, you read that off a fortune cookie?" She laughed, and he focused on her smile, letting her snatch the little piece of paper from him.

"Doesn't make it any less true," he shrugged.

They stopped walking in front of a standard looking two story suburban house.

She glanced over at him, looking half shy and half extremely grateful. "Thank you. Really. You're actually pretty great when you're not hurling fire at people."

He had that one coming, but he still rolled his eyes. Again. "Yeah whatever."

Abruptly, Layla pressed herself up against him, skinny little arms wrapping around him as best they could.

He was surprised at how it felt. She was so soft and warm. She was at least six inches shorter than he was, fitting snugly against his chest.

His entire body could have burst into flames, and for once, he never would have noticed.

She smelled like lilacs.

He awkwardly wrapped one arm around her and squeezed back. She was so tiny nestled there against him he felt like he could snap her in half. (He had never been good at hugging anyway.)

"Step away before I singe you." Seriously, if she didn't back off, he was going to catch fire right then and there, which would potentially be very bad for Layla.

"You just have to ruin the moment don't you?" She sighed, and he let her think that that was what he had meant.

He gave her the fortune cookie for Stronghold, and a few seconds later she was wiggling her fingers at him and he was trying not to glance back at the woman in the window watching them.

He walked back to his bike with the feeling of sparks running up and down his fevered skin.

Oh yeah. He was in deep shit.

LINE BREAK!

The day started out normally enough.

Warren rolled out of bed. Took a shower. Bent over to kiss his mother on the cheek because she was working on some huge assignment for some government or other and looked worn out. Stuffed cereal down his throat. Went to school.

That's where things started getting weird, which probably shouldn't have surprised him seeing as it was a school for fucking super powered teenagers, but still.

Layla was dressed to kill, shoving books in her locker with more force than necessary, talking to Stronghold.

He couldn't tell what they were saying from this far away, but she looked pissed.

Warren frowned a bit. She should look happy. Hadn't Stronghold used the one brain cell he possessed and told her yes?

(He wanted to run his hands over her pale thighs, up under the tight skirt, feel her-)

Layla slammed the locker shut, jarring him out of his fantasy. "Will, SHUT UP."

You tell him, Hippy.

"I don't care what you think, I don't care who you're taking to, and I don't care for your incessant whining. What I do is no longer your concern."

Sounded like a break up line if Warren ever heard one. Not that she and Stronghold had ever been together, anyway…

He couldn't resist staring at her as he passed, in smug satisfaction. And lust. Lots of lust. God, he wanted her, he wasn't even going to deny it now.

(It kind of freaked him out a bit).

Warren liked space.

More specifically, he liked personal space.

Which was why he wasn't too damn upset that no one would ever sit with him at lunch.

So as fucking hot as Layla looked today, and as proud as he was of her for telling Stronghold off, it still kind of irritated him when she plopped down across from him.

"Hi Warren."

She was nervous, that much he could tell.

"Did I say this was okay yesterday? Because it's not."

She tried to smile at him, but it was totally fake. Not the smile he wanted to see. Not the one that gave him good sparks. "Haha, you're so funny. But, no, seriously. So, I was just about to ask Will to Homecoming this morning, and wouldn't ya know it, I told him I was going with you instead."

Warren couldn't do anything but stare at her. Was she serious? He did not do school functions. Of any kind. "You're kidding."

Layla shook her head and went back to nervously poking her salad.

No wonder she was so tiny. She didn't fucking eat.

Out of no where, in swooped the purple sidekick. (What was her name? Magenta? Damn. Her parents got real creative). She almost reminded Warren of himself, except minus all the daddy issues.

This didn't mean he particularly liked her though.

Glow-Stick and Popsicle sat down next, and Warren felt his blood begin to boil. Layla he could handle. Layla he wanted to handle.

These people? Not at all.

Layla grimaced all of a sudden across from him, and he followed her line of sight.

Ah. Will and his posse were making their way over.

Fucking fantastic.

"Hang on a second Gwen," Will said when he had approached their table. "Layla, can I talk to you?"

He practically dragged her out of her seat, and Layla followed him hesitantly outside.

Oh hell no.

That little prick was not getting Layla alone.

Without really thinking about it, Warren jumped out of his seat and followed. If nothing happened, then it was just a precaution. If something did….

He waited just outside the doors.

"What?" He heard Layla ask. She sounded exasperated.

"Look. I don't know what's wrong with you lately, but I want it to stop." Way to be forceful there, Stronghold.

He sounded like a whiny little kid.

"I'm not acting any differently." Layla didn't sound very upset.

"Warren's probably having some kind of effect on you, I told you to stay away from him-"

Of course. Blame it on the super-villain's kid. Classy.

"Warren is a great guy!"

Warren hardly dared to breathe. She was defending him. Against her long time best friend. Holy shit. "If you actually took five seconds to talk to him, you might realize that."

A pause, and then, "Layla, I'm begging you. Break it off."

"No."

Elated heat seared through him at her declaration.

"Break it off."

"No!"

Warren shifted just a bit so he could see…

"I said dump him!" Warren saw Stronghold grab Layla's arm, heard her wail and fall to the ground.

Without even thinking about it, he was blazing, and fury consumed him. It was easy to throw Stronghold against a wall, denting it.

It was difficult to resist tearing him apart.

"Touch her again, and I'll run a stake through you like the goddam marshmallow you are, then roast your puny ass." Warren snarled.

The image was a comfort.

Stronghold jumped to his feet and took off, and if Warren hadn't been so concerned about Layla he would have went after him and taught him a real lesson.

But as it was, Layla was still slumped on the filthy hallway floor, and his first priority was her. (When had that happened?)

He crouched down in front of her, tilted her chin up. He was shocked to find her eyes and cheeks dry.

She was a lot stronger than people gave her credit for.

"You okay?"

He wasn't even ashamed when his voice came out all soft and caring.

"Yeah. He didn't mean it, really, he's super-" No fucking way was she defending the bastard.

"Strong, I know. Doesn't make this okay."

He reached for her arm, but she jerked it away. "Don't!"

Her eyes were wide; confused and hurt and tired and frightened all at once.

"I won't hurt you, Layla." Not ever. Please. Please let me…

She held out her arm trustingly, and Warren held back a triumphant grin. He rotated her arm gently.

"He could've done a lot more damage," he finally proclaimed.

It didn't make him want to kill Stronghold less.

Still, he had to get this bruise taken care of before it made her arm start to swell. "It'll definitely bruise, but it should fade in a week or so. Come on."

He held his hand out and resisted the urge to shudder when Layla put her hand in his without question. Her fingers rested against his perfectly. Her skin was so soft.

He lead the way to Nurse Spex's office, and he left Layla waiting outside. As badly as he wanted to get Stronghold at least a detention for what he did, he knew she'd protest.

The little old woman was behind her desk, check marking a paper absently. "Hey Nurse Spex."

She looked up, then broke into a wide smile. "Mr. Peace. Back for some burn salve again?"

Warren gave her a small, respectful smile. He'd had to practice it in a mirror a dozen times freshman year. She had been the only one not to be afraid of him, or mention his father. When he got in trouble for starting- or ending- fights, she was the only one to see right through his anger, the only one to calm him down with a single reproachful look or light touch.

She was the closest thing to a grandmother he'd ever had.

"Nope. Bruise salve and some ice."

"Mhm," she murmured, eyebrows shooting up. Warren shrugged sheepishly, letting her think he'd done something wrong yet again, instead of something very right. "Don't you send any more kids in here today Warren Peace!"

Oh. That was right. He had slightly injured that stupid ass in first period this morning when he made a snide villain remark…

"No mam, I won't." Nurse Spex was the only person he'd called mam in his entire life.

She handed him the salve and the ice.

"Thanks."

"Sure. You're a good boy, Warren. Act like it every now and then," she urged, patting him fondly on the shoulder.

Warren had to laugh at that. "Not a chance."

She nodded in a figures kind of way and waved him away.

He couldn't resist grabbing Layla's hand again, and this time he led her outside, to what he thought of as his Cooling Off Place. Whenever he got too angry or upset to think clearly, even to talk to Nurse Spex, he stormed right through those doors and out here. None of the windows in the school looked out into this little corner, so no one saw him ditch. "This way."

"We're probably not supposed to be out here." Layla bit her lip, and Warren had to resist the urge to lean in and bite it himself.

"Probably not. Oh well." He settled on the grass, and Layla sat down next to him. He rubbed the cool substance on her arm.

"Thanks."

"I've had a few bruises in my time." More than a few.

He couldn't stand her looking so unhappy. He had to make her laugh, had to make her smile that smile… "I think the nurse has a thing for me." He winked to add to the joke.

That did it. She laughed, and Warren sighed a bit.

He wrapped the ice around it next, then leaned back against the tree. He liked the feeling of the bark against his back. What to talk about…? "Going dress shopping soon?"

The fuck, man? Dress shopping? Way to make her think you bat for the other team.

She didn't seem to think anything was wrong with his question though. "I don't know. Maybe."

She looked away, quiet for a moment, before she added, "I'm sorry about that, by the way. I didn't mean too, it's just that he gets me so worked up and I wasn't thinking."

It took him a few minutes to catch up. Oh, right. She'd told Stronghold (who'd told everyone else) that they were going to Homecoming together.

How could he deny her when she was the only one to defend him? And against her lifelong best friend, as well?

"Don't give yourself a brain hemorrhage, Hippy. I'll go along with it."

The light in her eyes when he said it made it worth it. "Really?"

"Mhm. Just don't expect me to rent a tux." He hated the damn things.

"…Okay." Thank God she didn't throw a bitch fit like most girls would.

Layla settled on her back, and within ten minutes she was out like a light.

Warren couldn't help but stare at her. The way her red hair shown in the sun, the way her pale skin met the grass, the way her chest rose and fell evenly.

She was beautiful, a word Warren wasn't very familiar with.

He woke her when the final bell rang, and she yawned and smiled at him, and he couldn't help but imagine her waking up next to him like that, in his bed, her lips swollen and their bare bodies pressed together…

He almost had to shake himself to get the image to leave his mind enough for him to speak. "Here, keep this. Put it on every night, okay?"

"Sir yes sir." She smirked.

He couldn't resist. To hell with letting her come to him in her own time.

He leaned in close, so close his lips were almost against her ear. He could practically taste her. The smell of lilacs and earthy tones and just pure Layla overtook him, and he almost groaned aloud. "That's Mr. Peace, sir, to you."

He smirked, and to his complete and utter delight, Layla fucking shivered. Hell yes.

"Don't think I didn't notice that," he said, and he couldn't hold back the triumphant grin this time.

She flushed bright red.

He was really beginning to look forward to Homecoming.

She was driving him fucking nuts.

And he loved every bit of it.

Not only her, but her friends. (Worse, he was beginning to like the sidekicks. They were growing on him, attaching to him like barnacles.) They sat at his table every day and kept up a constant (often very amusing) chatter.

And after school, when he went to work, Layla would eventually show up and stay until closing time.

That's what was driving him crazy.

He'd found, over the hours and hours and hours they spent together, that he could touch her. That he fucking lovedtouching her. And she wouldn't shirk away from him, or flinch, or anything.

In fact, she welcomed him.

The night that she held his hand, really held it, with their fingers interlacing, had been the most intense thing he'd ever experienced. And he wasn't even a fucking virgin.

Her tiny fingers had slid down his thigh easily, innocent of what she was doing to him, and slipped in between his with ease.

His entire body had shuddered, and when their eyes met, he felt so many good sparks he'd thought he'd flamed up right there.

He wasn't even sure this could be called a spark anymore. It was so much more, so much larger.

He hadn't been able to help himself. He was tired of denying himself. He leaned in, and she did too… so goddam close…

And then the boss yelled.

Warren had stormed into the kitchen and screamed Chinese curses for half an hour after that, glad that the kitchen was well insulated so that Layla couldn't hear.

His boss stopped being such a douche after that. Not entirely though.

He'd never taken things so slowly with a female before, and it was torture. A slow burn, eating it's way through him.

When he got her on the bike, and her hips had fit against his, and he could feel her breasts crushed against his back, he didn't think he'd be able to concentrate enough to drive. He imagined turning around, crushing their fronts together, smashing his mouth against hers with bruising force.

Christ, he wanted her.

But he wanted her to be comfortable with him, too. He wanted to share the things he loved with her, wanted her to know him.

So he had to show her what the bike could do before he showed her what he could do to her on the bike.

Damn these newfound emotions of his.

Layla was lying on top of him, and Warren was pretty sure he'd died and gone to heaven by some rigging of the books.

Actually, he was pretty sure that had happened when she'd sat down on his bed, her gray eyes staring so intensely up at him.

When she'd kicked off her shoes and laid back easily, casually, he'd almost had a heart attack. Surely she wasn't going to suggest they…

She didn't.

He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed, or both.

Still, as they talked, she slowly moved closer to him. First her head ended up on his shoulder, both of them sprawled on their backs.

Then she'd put one of her legs across his, and eventually she rolled over, onto his chest, and just like he'd wanted, their fronts were pressed together.

He'd instantly brought an arm up to secure her to him, and brushed his fingers through her hair like he'd wanted to from the moment she walked into Sky High.

"And if you're so tired of being stereotyped, stop wearing green so damn much."

It really was beginning to wear on him.

She rose an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What color should I wear instead, then?"

He studied her, imagined her in lingerie of every shade.

The sexiest he could think of was, "Red."

She was quiet for a moment, and he just enjoyed holding her.

What if he were to tilt her chin up, like he had the day Stronghold had hurt her arm? What if he were to kiss her right now, softly, the way she deserved to be kissed? Rolled her underneath him and touched her the way she should be touched?

"Why did you agree to go to Homecoming with me?"

The question jarred him more than it should have, and he found he didn't want to answer. "Why did you tell Will I was your date?"

He always called Stronghold 'Will' around Layla.

"Touché," she mumbled.

He stared at his ceiling and tried to think of something profound to say.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt her lips against his cheek.

It took every ounce of self control he had not to turn his head to the side and press his lips against hers.

Then she moved to his jaw, and it struck him how wrong it would be, to ravage her right here and now, in his bed, with nothing to stop them. They hadn't even been on their date tonight yet, for Christ's sake!

Layla deserved better than that.

Better than him.

So carefully avoiding touching their lips, he turned his head to look at her.

How was this amazing person lying next to him right now? How could Stronghold give this up?

Fucking moron.

He brushed her hair out of her face gently, and she sighed contently, looking so kissable he almost combusted. "We should get going if we're gonna make it to the movie."

Her face fell, and the satisfaction Warren felt from the fact that she wanted to kiss him too was bittersweet. "You're right."

"Tell me."

"No."

"Come on, Hippy, just a hint!"

"Not gonna happen."

"Let me know the color, at least! It's not green, is it?"

If her dress was green, he'd burn it right off her.

Not that he wasn't thinking of doing that regardless of the color, anyways.

"I will get this out of you," he threatened, absently swiping the grungy rag across the table a few more times.

"You can try…" she said unconcernedly, and Warren couldn't help but think of all the different ways he could persuadeher to tell him.

He shot a glare at her that he didn't really mean and tore his apron off. She just smiled, not intimidated at all by his menacing attitude.

When they got on his bike, he took it slow, wanting to savor the way she fitted against him, enjoy the way her chest moved against his back when she breathed.

She relaxed against him and laid her head on his shoulder blade.

No one had ever been relaxed around Warren before. (His mother didn't count). He found he liked the feeling.

Layla had pointed Stronghold's house out to him once, and when they came upon it they found bright lights and pulsating music.

Stronghold was having a party.

He heard (and felt) Layla scoff behind him and grinned wickedly.

He wouldn't mind Layla grinding up against him to the beat, and if it pissed Stronghold off, well, that was just icing on the cake.

"Wanna crash it?"

"Sure!"

He sped up and hit the curb, rode up the slight incline to park right in the front yard. Layla squeaked and he smiled a bit.

She took his hand again, leading him to the doorway. He couldn't help but feel proud to walk in with her. He didn't understand why, but he knew he liked it.

The inside of the house was nice in classy sort of way, and he could tell the place was normally kept immaculately clean. Furniture was over turned now, spills stained the hardwood and carpet, and some things were broken. Reflected light leant a weird glow to the place, and most kids there were either wasted out of their mind, making out, dancing, or all three.

"Shittiest party I've ever been to," Warren declared, and it was. Stronghold was clearly an amateur at this.

"Ditto," Layla nodded, but he could tell she was pretty innocent when it came to these things. Her eyes were wide in shock and disgust, but really, this was pretty tame.

Layla moved forward, looking around, and that's when one of the Pennys closed in.

Warren squeezed her hand, frowning protectively, and almost missed the grateful little smile Layla shot his way.

Gwen popped up out of fucking no where then. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

"Who invited the sidekick?" Penny called out, and just like that, everyone in earshot turned to look at them.

Warren's free hand clenched into a fist. Layla can handle this.

"Where's Will? Tied up on a leash out back?" Layla's voice held more bite than he'd ever heard it.

"He's avoiding you, actually. Come on, Layla. Will knew you liked him." If that were true, and Stronghold had still hurt her the way he had, Warren would fucking kill him.

Layla didn't seem very concerned though. "Did he?"

He shuffled closer to her when he felt her start to tremble. (Whether it was in anger or pain he couldn't tell, but he couldn't stand it either way). She leaned back against him and he resisted the urge to wrap both arms around her.

"Uh huh. Obviously he'd not interested. He's just too nice a guy to tell you so himself." Gwen smiled then, and if she wasn't clearly a female, Warren would have hit her. Hard.

"He wasn't too nice," one of the Pennys said, "to tell us, though. God, he is constantly whining about what an obsessive little bitch you were, calling and trying to make plans all the time."

Layla did a full body flinch against him, her head and shoulders drooping just enough for him to notice. "Whatever."

Gwen just wouldn't let up. "I mean, take a goddam hint, would ya? He's going to Homecoming with me, he's throwing a party and didn't invite you, and he's too embarrassed to be seen with you at school."

Layla's voice was borderline desperate now, and Warren began searching for a way to step around the bitches without them being able to block them from leaving.

He couldn't find one.

It was killing him to just stand here and let her take this, but at the same time he knew that if he didn't let her stand up for herself, she'd be pissed at him in the end, too, and he couldn't have that.

"I don't care, alright? Whatever was going on with me and Will- or not going on- is over now, so just back the hell off!" Layla yelled, and seeming to read Warren's mind, she tried to sidestep Gwen and failed.

"Oh, that's right," Gwen said, her gaze settling on Warren. He snarled at her. "Layla's got a new boy toy now. Warren Peace, resident psycho."

Resident psycho? Was that really the best she could do?

Gwen looked back at Layla. "Careful, Layla. You never know when he'll turn evil. Wouldn't want to get too involved with a guy destined to end up like his father; worthless and locked up like an animal."

As angry as that made him, it seemed to make Layla furious. More upset than when they'd been ragging on her even. Her entire body tensed, and Warren knew the feeling well; she was about to go off.

He couldn't let her do that. Not on his behalf. She'd feel so awful about it later. "Whoa, Hippy. Calm down."

Gwen snorted. "Like she could do anything."

"You wanna see what I can-" Layla started, then stopped. Warren felt her take a huge breath, felt her muscles relax slightly. "Come on, Warren, let's go. This was stupid."

He slid his hand down her arm until he felt her fingers, then guided her to the door as swiftly as he could.

This had been a very horrible idea. What had he been thinking?

"Layla!" He heard Stronghold call, and grinded his teeth together. Two more seconds, and they would've been out the door!

Fucking hell.

To his delight, Layla didn't seem to be in a chatty mood. "Fuck off."

He'd definitely made a dent in her vocabulary, that was for sure.

But, but, I mean," Stronghold stuttered.

Enough was enough.

"Save it," Warren growled, allowing his free hand to finally ignite in a warning.

Stronghold's face hardened. "When did you become such a, a, a bitch Layla? You used to care."

Layla turned away, and Warren saw her face crumple.

The little bastard had made his Layla cry. Oh hell no.

"Have fun with Gwen, Stronghold," he spat, throwing a ball of flame and barely missing Stronghold's head. "You two are perfect for each other; you never did deserve a second of Layla's time."

Warren ushered Layla out of the house and slammed the door behind him. She stumbled down the porch steps, her torso shuddering with her sobs, her arms crossed across her chest.

Warren had never felt pain for another person before, except for maybe his mother, and even then, it was tinged with resentment because she had brought it upon herself. Layla had done nothing to deserve this. Nothing at all.

"Whoa, whoa," Warren said softly. "Whoa, Layla. Shhh. Calm down."

Unable to resist himself, he wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face against his chest and he drew soothing, mindless patterns against her back with his thumbs.

"I'm so sorry, Warren," she gasped. "I'm so sorry, this was a horrible idea."

She thought this was her fault?

Guilt consumed him. Why hadn't he just drove her home? Why did he have to let his ego get in the way?

"I was the one to suggest crashing, if you remember," he huffed. Fuck me. "This was my fault."

"No," Layla shook her head against him. "It's Will's."

Warren couldn't argue with that.

"Layla?"

Warren turned his head to see the Commander and Jetstream strutting up their walkway, looking confused and concerned and heroic.

Warren absolutely refused to let Layla go even for one second. He just stood there with her wrapped securely in his arms, observed the man responsible for his mother crying alone in her room for hours on end, even though both she and everyone else knew his father had deserved it.

"Layla, sweetheart, what is going on here?" Jetstream asked, and it shocked Warren for a moment that Layla was so familiar with the couple before he remembered that she had been their son's best friend since they were in diapers.

Small fucking world.

"Will is throwing a party," she sighed.

"Well we can see that. Why? And why are you so upset?" This bumbling idiot was the one that saved the world every other day?

"I guess because his prissy little girlfriend asked him to," Warren answered the Commander's first question.

For the first time, the Commander seemed to really see Warren. His eyes widened in recognition and Warren glowered, knowing what was coming next.

"You're… You're Barron's boy!"

No shit Sherlock. "Yeah."

Jetstream instantly interfered. "Layla, I apologize for whatever Will has done. Warren, it was nice meeting you. Come on, Commander, we've got a son to severely punish."

Warren didn't recall saying his name, but it didn't surprise him that she knew it.

She dragged her husband to the door, and unlike him, didn't spare him a second glance.

"Where are we?" Layla sniffled, her arms crossed across her chest.

She looked tired. Sad. But most of all, she looked guarded, something she had never been. It killed Warren. Made him physically ache. Nothing in the world should ever make her look like that. Certainly not a fucking pussy like Stronghold.

She was so beautiful, even now. He'd never wanted anything more in his life than her.

"Come here."

She moved instantly, standing just a few inches in front of him.

He thought about fucking the show he had planned and just kissing her senseless right then and there, but he took a deep breath he hoped she didn't notice and focused.

His eyes met hers, and when they did he tapped into his power, and a large circle of fire sprung up, thirty feet away in either direction.

Layla's eyes went wide and she gasped, and Warrens smiled. This was so going to be worth it.

Might as well give her the background story.

"When I was little," he began, "around six or seven, when I was finally able to control my powers, my mother and father went to war again. It killed her to do it, because she loved him. Still loves him."

He didn't fucking get it. How his mother could be so infatuated with such a man. But if she felt anything for Battle like Warren felt for Layla, he supposed he couldn't blame her. (Even though a small part of him did blame her, and always would).

Layla listened intently, and that made it so much easier to just make the words flow.

"Sometimes, when she thought I wouldn't notice, she'd go lie in bed for hours and not get up. She didn't sob her eyes out, and I almost wished she had, because that would've made sense, ya know? But she just laid there and one tear would come out at a time…" Warren had forbade himself from remembering those days, and he sure as hell had never discussed it with anyone.

But he could share this with Layla.

He was almost ashamed of the soft, ragged way his voice came out, but then he noticed her stray tear, and when he wiped it away, he figured that emotion was probably a good thing.

Well. With Layla it was a good thing.

"I couldn't stand it. And I thought I was adding to the problem; I have the same power as my father, and I got to thinking that all the destruction I caused when I lost control made her even more sad. So I came up with a way to show her that fire isn't just destruction, and also make her happy again. Practiced for hours outside, while she laid in bed."

His body starting to get in the groove of things again as he told his story, he let another ring pop up outside of the first, burn brighter and larger. Layla's eyes flickered to it, and then back to his.

"It worked. It made her happy again. I still do it sometimes, when things get really bad." He stepped a few feet away from her and stripped his shirt off, not giving himself time to think about stupid ass inhibitions.

By the way her eyes widened, and the way she licked her lips, Warren had nothing to worry about.

He opened his palms toward her, and felt the telltale heat start underneath his skin. Soon little drops of fire began dripping off him, into the grass. Sometimes they landed on his wrist though, and he deliberately let them grow, let them follow the path of his red tattoos, farther up his arm, onto his shoulder. Soon they cascaded down his chest, and he kept his eyes on Layla and her clear amazement.

He'd never been so proud of his ability in his entire fucking life.

Layla smiled that smile at him, and he smiled back, and it was the first time he could remember that he didn't have to put any effort into it.

He bounced a ball of fire back and forth across his shoulders and she laughed.

He let another ring pop up around them, then another, closer and closer to them. He wanted to see how she reacted.

She didn't flinch. She didn't shy away.

This encouraged him, and he decided to try something he'd only ever done once.

It was easy to set his torso and arms and hands on fire. It was as easy as breathing. He had to think a bit about his legs, and he never deliberately did anything above his shoulders.

But once, his mother had come staggering in from an interview sobbing her eyes out, sliding down the front door.

His little show hadn't been enough to cheer her up, and then he'd come up with an idea.

He'd burned the back of his throat and had been unable to eat anything but soup for two weeks.

He knew he could do it now. Could do it for Layla.

So very slowly, he let the heat inside him build up, travel through his neck, line the inside of his throat. He felt it thrum through his pulse point.

He took a deep breath, then opened his mouth wide and released it. Above him, bright flame filled the sky, and he released his entire breath before letting his head drop back down.

He wasn't hurt at all.

"Oh my God!" Layla laughed, looking at him in utter awe.

He laughed too, enjoying her reaction to him. That was one of the best "Oh my God!"s he'd heard in reference to him ever.

He felt the excess energy in him spread out into the ground, and he let geysers of flame burst up everywhere, and turned it all different colors.

Just not green. Green really got on his fucking nerves.

"You're amazing," Layla breathed, then blushed like she hadn't meant to actually say it.

Warren smirked. "I try."

And he would try. For her, anyway. Everyone else could go to hell.

He made the flames on his body smolder out, then stepped closer to Layla, until he could see all the little blue flecks in her eyes. "Now for the grand finale," he murmured. He took her hand in his, loving the way she let him do it, the way she was no longer guarded at all anymore.

"You have to trust me completely for this to work, alright? You can't freak out."

A flicker of excited apprehension darted across her face. At least it wasn't outright fear. "What's going to happen?"

"You'll see. Pick a color." He knew what she would say as soon as she opened her mouth, so he cut her off. "Not green."

"Prejudiced," she grumbled, but didn't seem truly miffed. She smiled. "Blue."

An image of her in nothing but a blue lacy thong popped into his head. It had been the second hottest. "Is that the color of the dress?"

"You'll have to wait and see," she teased.

He couldn't resist an eye roll. "Alright. Blue it is."

He felt the fire start in his hand, then immediately transferred the energy to Layla's hand. Her palm caught on fire instantly, the blaze a pretty blue.

She yelped and started to yank her hand away, but Warren was prepared for this and held on tight. "I told you not to panic, Hippy. If you freak out, it'll burn you."

She relaxed instantly, her eyes flickering from the dancing flame to meet his.

It took him a moment to find his voice. She made him speechless without even fucking trying.

"Purple."

He changed it instantly.

"Oh wow. This is incredible. How are you doing this?"

He shrugged, not quite able to find the words to properly describe the energy, the heat in his veins. "I dunno. How do you make flowers bloom?"

He could tell she didn't have a sufficient answer for that either.

"Thank you, Warren. So much." She whispered, looking up at him with those eyes and those gorgeous lips that made the smile…

He let go of her hand, and his fingers tingled where he'd held it.

Fuck it. The time is now.

He wanted her.

Now.

Slowly, half expecting her to step back, to tell him no, he brushed some hair out of her face. He shuffled closer, giving her plenty of time to escape his advances.

She didn't.

He was pretty sure his heart was about to fucking combust it was beating so fast. He'd never felt like this with a girl before. Figured it would be the goddam hippy to break him.

He brought his hand up to cradle her cheek, felt her jaw and cheek bones, brushed his thumb against the edge of her lips.

"Warren…"

His name came out like a plea, and he almost lost it. He almost flamed up, almost created an explosion of flame that would've consumed them both.

Out of the corner of his eye, he did see the flames on the ground that were still going burn higher, brighter.

"Layla…" he breathed, and it was the closest thing to a prayer he'd ever uttered in his life.

Then his mouth was on hers and everything he could possibly comprehend was pure Layla.

Her fingers twisted into his hair, pulling him closer, and this shocked him more than anything else. He expected Layla to want soft, gentle, but here she was, pressing herself against him so passionately it made his head spin.

Getting over his initial shock, he clutched at her lower back, licked her bottom lip. She tasted so sweet, like honey almost.

She opened her mouth instantly, rubbing her tongue against his. Her moan went right through him, and he deepened the kiss, taking over her mouth with his tongue, rubbing it against the roof of her mouth.

She gasped and rubbed herself against him, and he made a mental note to do that again.

He could feel their powers clashing, trying to find balance, and knew she felt it too. His fire was burning higher, brighter, hotter, and he knew he'd lose complete control soon if they didn't find some common ground.

Fire and earth didn't mix. Period. He could feel the heat in his veins trying to take over, to consume, to destroy.

He'd been to fucking kindergarten. Smokey had taught him all about forest fires, and he was terrified to hurt Layla.

Already he could feel himself holding her a little too tight, kissing her a little too hard. Not that she was complaining. In actuality, she was matching him stroke for stroke, kiss for kiss.

Just as he thought he'd have to break away, have to call it off, boom. Something clicked.

Several images flickered through his mind at once. A picture of the sun, huge and glowing. Sunlight filtering through tree leaves. The Earth's molten core, lava spewing from a volcano, making life possible.

A never ending cycle. A way for fire and earth to be completely compatible, completely reliant on each other.

Layla felt it the second Warren did, and he broke their kiss to breathe while holding her against him firmly.

He couldn't stop touching her though. He wouldn't. Not now that he knew what he knew. That they were made for each other, that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Mother fucking love of God, he wanted her.

They were both breathing hard, panting almost, and he ran his tongue behind her ear, sucked on her neck, scraped her collarbone with his teeth. She pressed little kisses to his cheek and jaw and bare chest, any part she could reach.

He lifted her up against him on instinct, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He felt her grin against his mouth, and that was almost better than this kisses.

But only fucking almost.

Then she went back to kissing him and flicked her tongue against the roof of his mouth in payback. Shudders went down his spine, and he growled playfully. He let her go to tangle his fingers in her hair, pressing her lips against his more urgently. She supported herself, clenching her legs around him, and messing with his hair too.

Almost hesitantly, she rubbed her center against the bulge in his jeans, and he almost fainted like a damn girl. He groaned, and she moaned, and the frenzy started all over again.

When they finally stopped millions of years later, Warren felt short of breath, unsatisfied, and extremely sated all at once.

He had a hickey where his neck met his shoulder and Layla's lips were swollen.

He felt amazing.

"I should get you home," he managed, and almost kicked his own ass. I should get you home? Damn it all, Peace.

"Probably," Layla muttered. She didn't seem to like the idea.

Unable to help himself, he kissed her again, sweetly and lightly this time. When he dropped her off, he kissed her a little deeper even though he knew her mother was watching out the window.

His mother looked up from her tea when he came in with a small smile on her face. "How's Layla?"

"Fine," he said shortly. He thought of the desire in her eyes, thought of the way her body arched and moved against his. He smirked. "Well. A little better than fine."

His mother's eyebrows shot up, and then she grinned. "About time."

"Go to bed," he called over his shoulder as he went up the stairs, smiling sheepishly. She just laughed.

He was in love with Layla Williams, and he wasn't even ashamed to admit it.

He. Had. Nothing. To. Wear.

Why had he been an arrogant prick as usual and refused to go rent a tux like every other normal teenager with a school dance?

He couldn't show up looking like a fucking retard now. Not when Layla meant this much to him.

He huffed at his image in the mirror. A pair of extremely singed khakis were not going to cut it.

His mother's voice from his doorway startled him. "Need some help?"

He refused to admit it. He just stared at her.

She giggled a little, then turned and gestured for him to follow her. "Come on."

He trailed downstairs, to her bedroom, and sat on the edge of the bed while she rifled through her clothes to reach the back of the closet.

She reemerged with a long garment bag. "I know you have daddy issues, but…"

And she unzipped it to reveal a tuxedo.

His eyes met his mother's for a full second before he snatched it and disappeared into her bathroom to change.

The damn thing fit fucking perfectly.

Well son of a bitch.

"You're more handsome in it than your father ever was," his mother said.

Damn straight.

"Layla is one lucky girl."

That he couldn't quite agree with. He was the lucky one.

He was almost late by the time he got there. The decorating committee had tacky taste, but what could you expect from a bunch of teenage supers?

He spotted Layla instantly, talking to Mr. Boy, and his stomach almost dropped through the floor.

She was wearing red.

More specifically, she was wearing the sexiest red dress he'd ever seen in his life. It clung to her like a second skin, and he couldn't help but imagine peeling it slowly off of her, revealing creamy skin and curves.

The fuck-me heels she was wearing wasn't helping his overactive imagination either. He could just picture her in absolutely nothing but those, all bent over and-

He stopped himself right there. He took a deep breath before approaching her.

"Don't mind him. He is such a jerk," Layla was saying to Mr. Boy.

"Hope you're not talking about me," he said, and Layla whirled around.

He scanned her from head to toe, trying to memorize the way she looked. God, she was beautiful.

No, gorgeous.

No, flawless. That was it.

"Red, huh? Nice choice." Perfect choice.

"I thought you weren't going to rent a tux?" She asked quizzically.

"It was my dad's," he shrugged, trying to be blasé. "He doesn't have much use for it in solitary."

He appreciated her effort to hide how touched she was by his gesture. She leaned in and pressed her lips gently against his. He smiled when she pulled away.

After they'd made enough small talk, Warren pulled her over to a corner of the gym. He kissed her the way he'd been dying to since he told her goodbye outside her house. His hands were on her hips, and he slid his leg between both of hers.

He tilted his head, and she ran her tongue between his lips, stroked her hands across his shoulders. He couldn't get over how incredibly sensual she was.

He pulled away from her, ran his tongue across the shell of her ear. She shuddered, and he imagined her doing that while underneath him. "I fucking love what you're wearing."

She shivered against him and pulled his head back around so that they're lips were touching again for another searing kiss.

"I thought you would," she breathed when she pulled back, smiling. He couldn't resist staring at her, letting his gaze linger on her cleavage and the shape of her hips…

She pulled back the jacket and collar of his tux to reveal the quarter-sized purple blotch she'd made. Her smirk sent waves of heat rolling through him, and he groaned when she bent her head to lick his bruise. It ached in the most delicious of ways at her touch.

"Maybe we should just ditch this shindig altogether."

"Most powerful super-being ever to walk the halls of Sky High… Me!"

Layla snapped her head to the side at Gwen's announcement, and Warren followed her gaze just in time to see Grayson rip her skirt right there in front of everyone, revealing some sort of suit of armor and a helmet.

"What the fuck?" Warren managed.

What looked like bolts of lightning burst from Gwen's fingertips, and out slid signs reading Royal Pain.

Warren knew a thing or two about villains, and he knew enough to realize that this was not fucking good.

A weird little elf thing cackled and skipped onto stage, releasing a secret hatch on the podium and handing Gwen some sort of gun.

Magenta rushed over and grabbed Layla's arm. "What the hell is going on?"

"I…I don't know…" Layla stuttered.

Zach and Ethan were right behind Magenta, and together, they moved closer to the refreshment table, closer to the exits.

The voice of the Commander rang out. "Royal Pain… is a… girl."

"Yes I'm a girl, you idiot." Gwen's voice did not sound like Gwen's voice. It was unnatural, robotic. "Now prepare to be Pacified."

Layla and Warren shared a worried glance while the Commander scoffed. "You really think you can kill me with that thing?"

"My dear Commander, who said anything about killing you?"

And then she pulled the trigger. Energy that looked light lightning shout out and hit the Commander square in the chest. He shrunk immediately, and the sound of a baby crying echoed throughout the gym.

Bursts of more lightning-stuff shot out as Royal Pain aimed at others, hitting adults and students alike. People screamed and panicked, running as fast as they could-

Only to have the exits barricaded by Speed, Lash, and Penny.

"Boomer, get the kids out of he-" the principal started to scream before she was also hit.

"Sparky, find an exit," Coach Boomer ordered Warren, and started to continue, before he was hit as well.

Served him right for starting with the whole Sparky nickname anyway, dammit.

Still, an exit would be nice.

"Come on," Warren said, looking around a bit before spotting their way out; the vent in the wall.

He held Layla back, his first instinct to protect her, then sent fire hurtling toward it. It fell off easily, and Magenta rushed past them, crawling inside. Layla followed, and the boys fell in line behind them.

They crawled as fast as they could, and Warren tried very hard not to think about the way Layla's dress hugged her and the fact that Zach was behind her, not him.

They twisted and turned, leaving the screams and bursts of light behind. After awhile, they slowed down, and Magenta asked, "Where the hell are we?"

"In a vent?" Zach said in a duh sort of tone.

"Smart ass," Magenta hissed.

Warren held back a snort.

"Hey Warren, how about a torch?" Ethan asked.

Frustration ate his way through him. He was utterly worthless in these damn vents. Helpless. "Not unless you wanna be barbequed."

An eerie green glow filled the vents, and Warren saw the girls fall to the side in front of him to let Zach past.

"And then all the reindeer loved him…" Magenta sing-songed.

Well what do you know. Little freshman actually does have a power.

"Hey, way to glow man!" Ethan snorted.

Warren came upon Layla, and she reached out to stroke his cheek, squeeze his hand.

He appreciated the sentiment, but now was not the time to get all sappy.

He huffed and blew hair out of his eyes, motioning for her to go on.

And this was why he didn't fucking do school functions.

"We've gotta get out of these goddam vents," Magenta griped in irritation.

Warren couldn't agree more.

"Head this way," he suggested, pointing randomly. There was another vent opening in the wall.

They did, and as soon as Zach reached the metal barrier, it was ripped away.

"Sup, kid?" Zach said.

Magenta and Layla crawled out after him, and Warren saw Layla freeze. He was on his feet next to her in an instant.

Stronghold was here, and Layla was clearly not okay with that.

He threw a protective arm over her shoulders, and felt her relax minimally.

Ethan fell out of the vent, then popped back up. "Hey, Will."

Way to be smooth there, Popsicle.

"You guys are never going to believe this! Gwen-"

"Is Royal Pain's daughter?" Layla asked flatly.

"Yeah! And she-"

"Stole the Pacifier?" Zach chimed in.

"Right, yeah, and she's turned everyone into babies, including your parents, dude." Ethan sighed.

Will looked more than freaked out. "Okay, that I didn't know."

"I think this is more than anyone can handle." Layla groaned, turning and leaning against Warren.

He loved that she trusted him enough to take care of her.

He especially loved the look on Stronghold's face when she did.

"Who, you and Warren? The rest of us are only sidekicks." Magenta hissed.

Stronghold sighed. "Just because someone has powers doesn't make them a hero. Sometimes it just makes them a jerk. It makes me a jerk."

Layla stiffened in his arms and turned around at that, and Warren felt his heart begin to crack again.

Fuck it all, she was going to forgive him, and forget all about Warren.

Stronghold went on. "Layla, I'm so sorry. I never meant anything that's happened these last few weeks."

Warren braced himself for the blow.

"And in case my homecoming date ends up killing me tonight," Stronghold just didn't know when to fucking stop did he? "I just want you to know-"

No. Please no. NO.

"No Will. No." Layla's voice echoing his exact thoughts startled him, and he watched as she took a step back, away from her former best friend and crush.

What the fuck was she doing?

Apparently Stronghold had no more of a clue than she did. "W-what?"

"I said no. I-" Layla cut herself off, then continued. "I'm in love with Warren, okay?"

Warren fully believed he was dreaming. There was not another explanation for this fuckery.

"Please tell me you're joking." Stronghold said weakly.

Layla turned her head to stare up at Warren, and he got lost in her gray eyes. "No. I'm not joking."

"I love you too," he whispered, feeling his heart speed up at her declaration and his own words, not caring he was in front of bunch of her- okay, their- friends, and he leaned down to kiss her-

"Isn't that sweet? I hate sweet," Penny snapped from behind them, standing between Lash and Speed.

"You guys are involved in this too? Why am I not surprised?" Stronghold asked, glaring.

Uh, weren't these his fucking friends? How the hell had he not been able to tell they were evil?

Still. It was time to take these fuck-tards down.

"Go take care of Gwen," Warren said darkly, "we'll handle these bitches."

With one last despairing look at Layla, Stronghold ran off, straight through a wall.

Show off.

Lash reached out, grabbing Magenta by the throat. "Hey there little rat. Hard to transform now, huh? Worthless. You shouldn't have even been allowed into this school."

"Maj!" Zach yelped, reaching out, catching her when Lash let her go. He pulled her back into the air vent, and Warren could hear her gasps and wheezes, and Zach trying to take care of her.

Last straw.

Warren stripped off his jacket and flamed up. Speed rushed past him, and Warren took off running.

He barely had time to register the Pennys going after his Layla. They turned in the opposite direction, towards the cafeteria.

He remembered how fierce and strong she could be, though, and decided not to worry too much.

Speed stopped at the end of the hall, and zoomed around in zig-zag patterns and circles. "Come on, hit me!"

Warren through some fire and missed. Speed was just so damn fast.

"Right here!" Speed cackled, then moved out of the way again.

He zoomed past and Warren went running after him again, back the way they had come. He barely had time to see Ethan emerge from the bathroom (vaguely he wondered what had happened to Lash) when Ethan melted and Speed went skidding.

Warren through a fireball one more time, one of his largest yet, and it hit Speed straight in the back. He went hurtling through a wall, and continued to flame.

Warren smirked, approaching Ethan. "Fuck yeah, Popsicle."

They bumped fists.

Warren could see the use in having hero support.

He heard Layla's heels clicking before he saw her. He raced back through the halls and met her where they conjoined.

She raced to him, and he held her tight against her. She was safe. "Hey," he breathed, kissing her. He noticed the glass in her hair, cutting into her shoulders, and began picking it out.

"Come on, there's no time for that. We need to get to Principal Powers' office," Layla grabbed his hand and drug him along behind her.

"What, why?"

"Because we need a map to the antigravity device. Royal Pain sabotaged it, we have ten minutes until we start falling." She summarized.

He started to run.

They hit the door head-on, Warren blasting right through it. They scourged the cabinets and finally found what they were looking for- the internal map of the school.

They found Ethan, and ran back to the vent together. "Zach, Maj!"

They crawled, out, Magenta still seeming shaken. Layla explained once again and laid the map out on the floor.

Warren leaned against the wall, keeping watch, while they tried to come up with a plan.

"Here's the antigravity room," Layla pointed.

"Didn't Royal Pain seal off every route?" Magenta pointed out.

"Hey, what about this?" Ethan pointed.

Zach snorted. "Yeah right, you'd have to be like a rat to fit in there."

Everyone instantly looked at Magenta. She winced and averted her gaze. "Don't use that word."

Zach's eyes widened in understanding and he reached out, drew her to him, kissed her on the forehead. It was about time he stepped up. He'd been drooling after her since Day One. "C'mon, Maj, You're the only one who can do this."

After a moment's hesitation (What choice did she fucking have?) she nodded.

Warren really hoped Stronghold was as capable of fighting as the Commander. He and Layla were racing through the halls, trying to find him and Royal Pain.

They followed the sound of fighting back to the gym, now empty of babies and barricades.

"Will!" Layla called when she saw him pinning Royal Pain down.

He glanced up, and Royal Pain hit him hard, sending him flying backwards and crashing through the window.

"No!" Layla yelped.

Warren stood there stunned. He basically hated Stronghold, but he had never wanted to see him actually die.

(Well, okay. Maybe he'd wanted that once or twice. At his hands.)

"And there goes your last chance at stopping me," Royal Pain announced.

"We'll see about that," Layla snarled, taking several steps forward. Warren held her back. He couldn't lose her.

Surprisingly, she stopped mid-step, and that's when Warren noticed that Stronghold was hovering outside the window, flying.

Fucking figured. (Still, he couldn't help but feel a little relieved. He told himself it was for Layla's sake.)

"Surprised?" He called. "Yeah, so am I."

"You're flying?" Royal Pain gasped. "That's impossible."

Stronghold surged forward, grabbing her and carrying her upwards, then dropping her and hitting her as hard as she'd struck him. Her helmet went flying off and she laid motionless.

For a beat everything was still, and then Stronghold was up and running to grasp Layla in a bone crushing hug and she returned it, and Warren couldn't even find it in himself to be angry, but he still tried to pull Layla away while clapping Will on the back-

And then the floor dropped out from under him.

Layla shrieked and grabbed onto Warren. "The school is falling!"

"Oh God, if we make it out of this I'm going to kill Magenta," Warren groaned, and gathered Layla to him.

They could hear Ethan and Zach screaming out in the hall, and Warren just wished desperately that the free-fall feeling in the pit of his stomach would go away.

He would never admit it, but he was more terrified than he'd ever been in his entire life.

Layla clutched at him, and he held her tighter.

It wasn't fair. They were going to die before he even got to make love to her.

"Warren," she cried, and it was then he realized she was sobbing.

He knew they only had a few precious seconds left.

He gritted his teeth and held her tighter, pressed a kiss to her forehead.

He loved her so much.

He couldn't help but think of his mother, all alone when he was dead, splattered across the destroyed gym floor like a bug.

And just like that, it was over.

They stopped falling.

Slowly, they started rising, and Warren couldn't stop shaking.

"Oh my God," Layla whimpered, their hold on each other just as tough as it had been when they were falling.

"Holy fucking shit, mother of Jesus," Warren gasped.

They laid there on the floor together until they stopped moving, and even then, it took effort to peel themselves from their spots.

Then Ethan, Zach, and Magenta came running in.

Anger licked its way through Warren. "Took you fucking long enough!"

"I'm sorry!" Magenta squeaked.

Layla hugged her, and Zach and Ethan clapped Warren on the back.

Will came flying back in. "Ron Wilson needs us, but first we should probably take care of Royal Pain and her posse."

They decided to put them all in the detention room until Principal Powers was back to herself and could decide what to do.

They unloaded all the babies, and then stood around awkwardly.

"Um… Now what?" Layla asked.

"Perhaps I could be of assistance," a small voice piped up.

Yep. Warren was officially done with school functions.

After everyone was back to normal, Principal Powers called all the students and faculty back into the gym. "I think it's only fair we let the students continue their night! School will be out all of next week, however; we need to make repairs."

The assembled teenagers cheered.

The group looked at each other, standing in the back corner. "I really just wanna get out of here," Magenta muttered.

"Me too," Layla nodded.

"I've had enough excitement to last me a long time!" Ethan yawned, rubbing a hand over his face.

"I don't wanna leave you alone," Warren frowned, brushing a curl off of Layla's neck.

He never wanted to let her out of his sight again.

"I don't want to leave any of you guys," Zach said.

"I have an idea." Will said. "Layla, is your mom still up for hosting sleepovers?"

Layla smiled slowly. "I think so."

"Hang on," Will held up a finger and then went to his parents. After a few minutes of talking, he came back. "They said they could call all of our parents. They don't think we should be split up after everything that's happened tonight, either."

Looked like Warren would be spending the night with a bunch of sidekicks, his former arch enemy, now tolerated friend/enemy, and girlfriend.

He could think of worse ways.

Layla's mother had seemed delighted to have a house full of teenagers.

She seemed especially delighted to get to know Warren.

Layla's father, however, had made a not-so-subtle threat. Layla had cracked up. Warren had grumbled under his breath and made sure to be extra polite when he was in the room.

Waking up next to her in the morning, though, with her tucked safely underneath his arm, was so worth it.

His mother had loved Layla's parents, and he figured that could've gone worse. Even the Strongholds were civil, telling his mother how good a kid Warren was.

He didn't exactly want to conform to that label.

They bowed out of the barbeque the parents had planned early that night.

Warren finally had Layla all to himself, and he wasn't about to pass the opportunity up. They kissed their way from the driveway to the living room, and he was filled with so much longing he began to think the couch was just as good as the bed.

Her tongue rubbed against his, and she slid his shirt up and over his head. She sighed and traced every part of his chest, stomach, arms. He shuddered underneath her touch.

"I love you," he whispered raggedly. She had to know that before they went any farther.

It struck him suddenly that when he though of sex with Layla, he called it making love and not fucking.

"I love you too," she breathed back.

His fingers slid up under her shirt, teased around her belly button. She moaned and arched her back (God, he loved her noises), then kissed down his neck, across his collar bone.

His hand trailed down to squeeze her ass, then he hiked her leg over his hip. She brought her mouth back to his.

He picked her up and carried her upstairs to his room. Her shirt got lost somewhere, and then her jeans, and then hisjeans, and suddenly there was nothing but skin on skin, delicious touches and moans and friction and pleading and ecstasy and pain and declarations of love and ivy growing and tiny bursts of flame moving up and down their entwined bodies.

And the sparks Layla created were his whole life.

#warren/layla #warren x layla #warren peace #layla williams #phoenix #flower woman #sky high movie #sky high 2005 #sky high

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skylarstark4826 · 9 months ago

Text

Layla loved to love.

She didn't like negative things. It had been bred into her, really, to not like negative things. She'd been raised with an abundance of pets, most of them rescued by her "veterinarian" mother. She'd always felt connected to the earth and earth-like things (especially trees), and her parents had been involved in charities and belief groups for as long as she could remember. She'd built houses for Habitat for Humanity, volunteered at humane societies, rallied in front of the court house, petitioned.

Her normal father was no slacker, keeping right up with her mother. He'd taken her to yoga classes and interesting pro-peace lectures, and helped her make stuff out of recycled material.

But Layla couldn't help feeling horrible things whenever she was around Will lately.

It started out as a little bit of jealousy, and she waved it away as a natural part of being a teenager; hormones, and all that. The way Will looked at Gwen certainly wasn't the way he looked at her, but oh well. That was just hormones too.

Then it grew into resentment. Will was ignoring her, ignoring their friends. He wouldn't even answer his phoneanymore, and she could hear him in the background when Mrs. Stronghold answered, telling her to tell Layla some excuse as to why he couldn't talk.

Anger mixed in with the resentment, sizzling it's way into her blood and making her see red. It left no room for sadness that a friendship that had lasted over a decade was ending.

In fact, it left her wanting to do something that non-angry Layla would've blanched at; speeding the break along and watching Will hurt the way she was hurting.

Her gaze fell on Warren Peace in the cafeteria. He stalked over to his usual seat all alone, and Layla couldn't help but feel a little compassion for him. People tended to avoid him, even the girls swooning from afar.

A little idea started to form in Layla's mind, but she pushed it and the tingling feeling in the pit of her stomach away when Magenta sat down and started babbling about some stupid lesson of Mr. Boy's.

Still, Layla wasn't one to cut someone from her life without giving them a chance. She'd ask Will to meet her tonight at the Paper Lantern.

It was his last chance.

After seventeen tries, she finally got through to his cell phone.

After several phone calls to Magenta, Layla decided on an outfit.

She was officially not getting dressed up for Will Stronghold.

He didn't deserve it.

She threw on one of her favorite shirts, the one with the white sleeves, and a pair of jeans, some flats, and marched out the door.

(She might've also taken a few deep meditation breaths, but no one had to know that).

Sitting in a booth alone at the Paper Lantern an hour later, though, the fury was back with a vengeance.

Layla focused on the flower in front of her, reached out to it with her power. Felt its cells and its potential, then wilted it down.

How had things come to this? Will was her best friend in the entire world. They'd told each other everything. He'd beaten Terrence Xavier up in the seventh grade when he'd went too far in a game of Seventh Heaven at a party, and Layla had done Will's science projects pretty much every year. Their parents held cookouts together, they had more photo albums filled than they could count.

Going to Sky High together had been the next step. The next great adventure. Instead, it seemed more like the unsatisfying, anticlimactic ending to a very long novel.

"Still workin' on that?"

The voice startled her, and she looked up, hoping it was Will, come to apologize and grovel with a sheepish smile.

Instead, it was Warren Peace. Layla tried to keep the shock off her face and failed.

Warren didn't seem to be faring much better, though, and she took comfort from that.

"Hey," Layla said, because what else were you supposed to do when your best friend/ secret crush's arch enemy comes up to you as a server in your favorite restaurant?

(And when had he started working here, anyway?)

He didn't seem to be in a particularly arch-enemy-ish mood, however. "Hey."

Layla sensed the potential for awkward silence, so she added, "We go to school together."

He nodded, feeling the awkwardness as much as she did. "You're Stronghold's friend."

Layla scowled, unable to keep her anger contained. She looked back down at the table, made the flower wilt a little more. "Not for long."

Warren rose an eyebrow at that, then looked away. "Yeah… So… Uh…. Want me to heat that up for ya?"

Layla looked up, more shocked than she should've been at his casual mention of powers. "You're not supposed to use your powers outside of school!"

Warren snorted and leaned in close, stage whispering, "I was only going to stick it in the microwave."

Layla's eyes were looking straight into his, and she felt as though she were falling forward, deep into them. She blushed crimson and leaned back quickly. "Oh."

Warren smirked, and boom, the tingling was back.

"Um, I was, um, supposed to be meeting Will here, but…" The next words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She remembered the way everyone avoided him, the way he sat alone everyday. "You wanna sit down?"

She offered him a small, happy Layla smile. She wasn't feeling very much like herself, but she figured it was the least she could do.

Warren blinked at her once, then hesitantly glanced back at his boss. Layla followed his eyes, noticed how tired he looked.

Poor kid, she thought, he must work hard.

For a second, she felt normal again.

"I guess they can spare me a minute," he sighed, and sat down across from her.

His knees touched hers under the table, and he froze for a second before relaxing and looking her in the eye. Then he smiled, really truly smiled, and snapped his fingers.

A small blaze appeared, and Layla watched his finger mesmerized as he touched it to the candle in the center of the table and lit it. He smirked again.

Layla giggled a little, completely forgetting that she had just reminded him not to use his powers in public.

She didn't have enough fingers to count the number of girls who would keel over of jealousy right now if they saw her. The thought made her head spin in a good sort of way.

"So Stronghold ditched ya?" Warren asked casually, leaning forward as though he were actually interested.

"Yeah. He's been… a jerk lately." Layla bit her tongue, holding back all the things she wanted to say. Most of them were rather colorful, and they weren't words peaceful, loving people like herself were supposed to know, out long use.

Warren seemed to sense this. "Don't hold back. Call him what you want to." He grinned. "I promise you won't corrupt me."

Layla ran her eyes over his broad shoulders and muscular arms, lingered her gaze on his lips and that smirk…His flame tattoos on his wrists. No, she wouldn't corrupt him.

"He's been a complete and utter…" Would she do it? Ah, what the hell. "Ass! A total asshole!"

Warren grinned, actually seeming amused. "Ha! Wow. Never though I'd hear Hippy cuss. I'm proud."

Layla smiled a little and shrugged, looking down. Cussing wouldn't solve this issue with Will.

But it did make her feel better.

"So why'd he ditch you? I mean, I always figured he was a few tools short of the whole shed, but…"

Layla caught the offhand compliment and decided to smile a little more. Just because he was Will's arch enemy doesn't mean he had to be hers, too. "He's probably off with Gwen."

Warren didn't miss the bitter anger in her voice. "I would say green isn't a pretty color, but that's pretty much all you wear."

Something inside of Layla snapped.

"Damn it, I am not jealous!" She slapped her hand down on the table and it instantly stung, but she didn't care. "I'm mad! No, I'm furious! Will has been my best friend since we were in diapers, and now we go to a new school and he sees one pretty- well, okay, perfect- girl, and all of it's down the drain? I mean, what the fuck. This is ridiculous, I don't even know why I'm still here."

"Geez, Hippy, take one of your chill pills would ya? There are other customers in here." Warren looked around with eyes as wide as the plates in front of them.

Layla instantly froze, coming back to herself.

Oh no. Oh, what had she done?

She'd snapped at Warren when she'd wanted to make friends. She'd chosen anger instead of compassion and reason, and she'd had a total hissy fit in front of everyone, and the words she'd said had left a dirty taste in her mouth.

She'd wilted a flower, something she hadn't done since she was a toddler and had had temper tantrums, sucking life out of everything before she'd been old enough to realize how completely wrong that was.

"Oh my God." She breathed, eyes filling with tears.

She would not add crying to her list of failings though, she determined. She choked them back.

She reached out for the flower again, growing it taller than it had been before, blooming beautifully, and she felt a little better.

Warren watched her silently, letting her have her private meltdown. "You okay?"

"Um, yeah. God, Warren, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I mean, I-" Layla stuttered unable to get the words out. She had no clue what to say.

"Just stop. Wait here." Warren directed, getting to his feet.

She sank back into the booth, doing as he said.

"Come on," he said a few minutes later. His apron was gone and his hair was fixed, tied back neater this time. He had his leather jacket swung over his shoulder.

"Where are we going?" She asked.

"I'm taking you home," he said.

She nodded slowly and followed him out of the restaurant, leaving a ten on the table.

"Normally I'd ride my bike, but I don't think we're quite to that level yet." He smirked.

"You have a motorcycle. Why am I not surprised? That's very cliché you know." Layla teased, managing a tiny smile.

"Oh please. I'm the only one around here that can really pull it off." He joked back, bumping her with his shoulder.

For some reason, her stomach dropped and hit the sidewalk. She grinned.

"That's more like it," he said quietly, and Layla's heart beat faster.

She averted her gaze and cleared her throat. "I really am sorry," she went on. "About that. That is not me, not at all."

"I know." Warren said simply. "So. Will is with Gwen, and now you're in agony because you're in love with him."

Layla's mouth dropped open with a little pop. "I am not in love with Will Stronghold!"

At Warren's dubious look she persisted, "I'm not!"

"You have to be at least crushing. It's incredibly obvious." He rolled his eyes.

"Crushing I can admit to." She conceded.

"So why don't you just ask him to Homecoming and get it over with?" Warren asked, turning a corner easily with her.

It was dark out, and normally Layla walked fast through the dark. She didn't like it much. But with Warren she felt… secure. Safe. Nothing would hurt her here in the dark with him right beside her.

She ignored the Stronghold house when they passed it. Didn't even glance in that direction, just kept walking.

"Two problems: Gwen, and also his stuck up attitude here lately. He won't even answer my calls, out long acknowledge me in person." Her voice grew quieter and she focused on the cracked pavement, the hurt and sadness finally settling in.

She was really losing Will. Her best friend in the entire world.

"Stronghold really is an idiot," Warren said, huffing on her behalf. "Alright, Hippy. Just ask him. Get to the bus stop early tomorrow if you have to. I'm assuming he's been avoiding you there, too?"

Layla nodded.

"See. If you get there early, there's no way for him to ignore you. Ask him to the dance then."

He pulled a fortune cookie out of his pocket and broke it open, popping a piece in his mouth. "Besides," he said as he chewed, "To let true love remain unspoken is the quickest route to a heavy heart."

Layla stared at him, almost walking into a lamp post.

"Wow," she managed to breathe. "That is really deep."

"Yeah," Warren nodded, his lips twitching in amusement. "And your lucky numbers are 4, 16, 5... and 49."

"Oh my God, you read that off a fortune cookie?" Layla laughed, grabbing the little piece of paper from him.

Indeed, that was what it said.

"Doesn't make it any less true," he shrugged.

A little flare of hope swelled up inside her. Maybe this would all be okay. Maybe something was wrong tonight and Will had a really good excuse for not showing up. It had never been like him to just not show up, not even with this Gwen thing.

Glancing over at Warren, she thought that maybe things could work out with him, as well. They could be friends. Layla could see the two of them becoming good friends, even, and maybe he and Will would learn to get along.

She stopped in front of her house and turned to grin her normal happy Layla grin at him. "Thank you. Really. You're actually pretty great when you're not hurling fire at people."

Warren rolled his eyes. "Yeah whatever."

Unable to resist herself, Layla stepped forward and pressed her body against Warren's. She was surprised at how it felt; he was at least six inches taller than her, and his body was smooth and solid whereas Will's had always been a bit… Soft. And short.

He smelled like cinnamon.

After a moment of being stunned, he awkwardly wrapped one arm around her and gave her a little squeeze back. "Step away before I singe you."

"You just have to ruin the moment, don't you?" She sighed, but obediently stepped away.

"Here, give that one to Stronghold tomorrow. Make him feel bad for not being there tonight." He handed her another fortune cookie.

"Okay. Thanks." Layla said again.

"See you at school, then, I guess?" He asked, clearing his throat and stiffening when he saw an older woman that looked a lot like Layla peering out the window.

"Yeah. Bye!" She waved joyfully, wiggling her fingers, and dashed up the walkway and through the front door.

She could still smell him and feel his skin on hers when she shut it behind her. She was tingling all over and there was this feeling in her…

It was want, though what exactly she wanted from Warren Peace she didn't know.

"Layla!" Her mother greeted, smiling in a suggestive sort of way from the living room and putting the blinds back in place. "Who was that gorgeous young man, hm? Should I set another place at dinner tomorrow? I thought you were meeting Will tonight."

Layla blushed. "He's just a friend. I'm really tired, I'm gonna head on up," Layla gestured towards the steps.

"Night honey. Love you!" Her mom said.

"Yeah, night," her dad grunted, not looking up from the Scrabble board. Her younger siblings giggled and chorused their goodnights, focused on their game.

She called Magenta for outfit advice again, giving her as few details about Warren Peace as possible. She certainly doesn't mention that she hugged him. She leaves the wanting feeling out as well, but that doesn't mean it's not there.

Magenta and Layla decided on her short tan skirt, and her green shirt that tucked in and hung loosely off her shoulders.

She looked good, she'd decided this morning. Good enough to ask Will to Homecoming.

That is, if he had a good excuse for not being there last night. If he didn't, then Layla was breaking this off completely. She couldn't put herself through the misery required.

"Layla!" Will called her name, and she turned around. "You'll never guess what happened to me last night!"

The words were right, but the expression and tone were all wrong, and Layla felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, and not the good kind she got when she was talking to Warren last night.

Wordlessly, Layla pulled out the fortune cookie she'd saved and held it out.

"Thanks, I love these," Will took it and bit into it, chewing as he read his fortune. "Your loyalties are clear when it comes to friends."

How incredibly fitting, Layla thought. She was beginning to wonder if Warren had something to do with these.

She just rose her eyebrows and waited.

Will's face fell, but not enough to erase his excitement. Layla felt the knife in her chest dig a little deeper. Oh no. She really was going to have to tell Will they weren't friends anymore.

"Oh God. Oh, geez, Layla, I'm sorry. I got so caught up with Gwen-"

And here came the anger again.

"Gwen? You blew me off for Gwen? You've known her for a few weeks, whereas you've known me for your whole life. I am your best friend, Will, and you've been completely ignoring me for awhile now." Layla tried to keep her voice down. The bus would be here any minute, and they weren't always the only two at this stop.

"I'm sorry, Layla, but she came over and my parents invited her to stay for dinner, what was I supposed to do?" Will pleaded.

"Gee, I dunno, how about mention you already had plans?" Layla hissed back.

She was not going to let him worm his way out of this one. This confrontation had been building for weeks now.

"You know I like Gwen! This was one plan, Layla. I'm really sorry about it, but come on! I'm going with her to Homecoming! Can you believe it? Me, a freshman, going with Gwen Grayson." Will smiled nervously, as though expecting her to start applauding or something.

"Seriously?" Layla asked in a low tone, glaring at him.

Will was quiet for a moment, and then, "Is that what this is about? You're jealous that I have a date and you don't?"

"As a matter of fact, I do have a date." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She resisted the urge to bite her lip.

"Oh. Who?" Will asked.

The bus pulled up.

Layla remembered last night and how awful she felt for blowing up like she did, and tried to reign in her temper.

Warren didn't try to control you, she thought to herself. Warren let you be angry.

His name filled the tense air, and she wasn't entirely sure why she did it, but it felt so right and she knew the look on Will's face would be worth it. "Warren Peace."

"Warren Peace?" Will spat the name like it was a dirty word. "Layla, you can't be serious. He's fricking crazy! Not to mention my arch enemy. He hates me. What in the world are you thinking? You can't be thinking at all, not if you're going with him. When did you even start talking to him? No. I refuse to accept this. You're doing this to get back at me, but can't you see that-"

Will had been ranting nonstop since they set foot in the school, and Layla was getting sick of it.

She slammed her locker door, something she never did out of respect for school property, and snapped as loud as she could, "Will, SHUT UP."

The entire student body turned to stare.

Well, no backing out now. "I don't care what you think, I don't care who you're taking to, and I don't care for your incessant whining. What I do is no longer your concern."

That felt good.

Layla left Will (and everyone else) staring after her slack jawed.

That felt good too.

But what felt best was knowing that Warren had walked by as she'd been telling Will off, and the look in his eyes made her flush with pride and more than a little bit of lust.

She had finally figured out what she wanted from Warren Peace.

(It scared the hell out of her.)

"You have to tell Warren." Magenta advised.

They were in the girls bathroom, their daily routine before lunch, reapplying makeup.

"No way. I can just tell Will we cancelled later, if he asks." Layla blinked onto her mascara brush.

"Layla, Will has made a huge deal out of this. All the freshman and most of the seniors already know you're going with him. You can't back out of this." Magenta protested.

"But-"

"Just tell him today at lunch. I'll be right behind you. We'll all sit at Warren's table today." Magenta left no room for discussion, and Layla sighed, knowing the battle was lost.

She went through the line quickly, grabbing her salad, and with a little prod in the back from Maj, scurried off to sit across from Warren.

Layla was trembling all over, and she didn't know how to make it stop.

"Hi Warren." She said as suave as she possibly could, plopping her tray down and immediately shuffling her lettuce around.

Warren was not pleased. "Did I say this was okay yesterday? Because it's not."

Layla tried for a smile. It always worked. "Haha, you're so funny. But, no, seriously. So, I was just about to ask Will to Homecoming this morning, and wouldn't ya know it, I told him I was going with you instead."

Warren stared at her for a good fifteen seconds and didn't burst into flames. Layla took that as a good sign.

"You're kidding." He said flatly.

Layla shook her head hyperactively, and went back to poking her salad.

Luckily, Magenta chose that moment to sit down next to Layla. "Hey Layla, you finish your homework? Can I copy? I was up all night, waiting for that new CD to come out online."

"What are you doing?" Warren asked threateningly.

Layla trembled harder, but not at the threat. At the growl in his voice.

God, what was wrong with her lately?

"It's called sitting." Magenta shrugged.

"No one sits here but me."

It had never occurred to Layla that Warren might choose to be alone.

Somehow she didn't think he had.

Ethan sat down next. "We're eating with Warren now? I feel so badass."

Warren didn't seem to know whether to keep being offended or pleased at that.

Zach sat down too, wearing a bright yellow shirt today, and playfully bumped against Warren. "This guy bothering you, Magenta?"

"Try the other fucking way around! Would you freaks go away?" Warren pushed Ethan further down the bench. Ethan didn't seem to mind.

"What, do all of you need a date to Homecoming or something?" Ouch. That was a low blow.

"Oh, I do!" Ethan raised his hand like the dork he was.

Magenta rolled her eyes and took Layla's offered homework.

Zach stole a piece of food from Warren when he wasn't looking.

Will walked by with Gwen and stared at Layla.

For once, there were no butterflies in Layla's stomach when Will looked at her. Just a sick feeling.

"Hang on a second Gwen," Will said, shocking everyone. "Layla, can I talk to you?"

Gwen glowered, but let go of Will's arm. He came around to Layla's side and hauled her up by her forearm, gently so as not to hurt her with his super-strength.

Layla shrugged him off and followed him out into the deserted hallway.

"What?"

"Look. I don't know what's wrong with you lately, but I want it to stop." Will had always had problems being assertive, and this time was no exception. He sounded weak and meager, saying things like that.

"I'm not acting any differently." Layla said nonchalantly.

"Warren's probably having some kind of effect on you, I told you to stay away from him-"

"Warren is a great guy!" Layla defended him, and realized as she said it that he really was. "If you actually took five seconds to talk to him, you might realize that."

Will groaned and ran a hand through his hair, turning away from her. When he turned back around, he took three steps towards her, and she tried not to flinch back.

She didn't know her own best friend anymore. Gwen had taken him and made him a little lap dog, or something.

He was behaving like a mindless jock, and it was driving her nuts.

"Layla, I'm begging you. Break it off."

Layla narrowed her eyes. "No."

"Break it off."

"No!"

"I said dump him!" Will grabbed her arm, and in his anger, forgot his own strength.

"Oooowwwwwwwwwwww!" Layla wailed, dropping to the ground, and before she knew it, Warren was right there, blazing and furious, throwing Will against the wall hard enough to make a dent.

It didn't really hurt him, and for a moment Will slumped there on the floor, looking in horror at Layla, ignoring the fact that his sleeve and part of his pant leg was on fire.

"Touch her again, and I'll run a stake through you like the goddam marshmallow you are, then roast your puny ass." Warren snarled, then whirled around to face Layla.

Her arm was throbbing and she had a headache from all this drama. All she wanted was to go home and crawl into her bed, burrow into her white sheets and stare up at the fake tree branches that twisted above her head, sprouting from the four posts.

Forget about all of this.

Will jumped to his feet, putting out the tiny flames, and ran back into the cafeteria, back to Gwen no doubt. Layla couldn't find it in herself to care.

Warren crouched down in front of her, tilting her chin up, surprised to find her eyes and cheeks dry.

"You okay?" His voice was soft, caring. It made Layla feel warm and cared for.

"Yeah. He didn't mean it, really, he's super-" She was upset, yes, but she was also Layla Williams, and Layla Williams was nothing if not understanding and forgiving.

"Strong, I know. Doesn't make this okay." Warren grunted, then reached for her arm.

"Don't!" Layla gasped, drawing it away.

Warm brown eyes met stormy gray ones. "I won't hurt you, Layla."

He called me Layla and not Hippy, she thought in a daze, and held out her arm.

His fingers were warm and calloused, touching her gently, rotating her arm and moving her shoulder.

"He could've done a lot more damage." Warren finally determined. "It'll definitely bruise, but it should fade in a week or so. Come on."

He held his hand out, and Layla took it, standing up and following him down the hall.

He led her to the nurse's station, and she was about to protest- she didn't want to get Will in trouble for something that was an accident- but he gestured for her to stop where she was and went in alone.

"Hey Nurse Spex," Warren's voice was light and respectful; it was almost a cheerful greeting.

Layla leaned against the cool wall and listened.

"Mr. Peace. Back for some burn salve again?" Nurse Spex sounded completely at ease around the school bad boy. Almost matronly.

"Nope. Bruise salve and some ice." There was a grin in Warren's voice, but also leftover anger at Will.

"Mhm," Nurse Spex murmured reproachfully. "Don't you send any more kids in here today Warren Peace!"

"No mam, I won't." Some shuffling and then, "Thanks."

"Sure. You're a good boy, Warren. Act like it every now and then."

Warren barked a laugh. "Not a chance."

A moment later he emerged, shutting the door behind him.

"This way," he took Layla's hand, and she let herself be guided out the door and into the sunshine. Warren led her to the grass at the side of the building and sat down underneath a shady tree.

"We're probably not supposed to be out here." Layla bit her lip.

"Probably not. Oh well." Warren muttered distractedly, opening the little jar and swiping the applicant over the white stuff inside it a few times.

He took her arm again and rubbed it on the already-forming bruise.

"Thanks," Layla said quietly.

"I've had a few bruises in my time," he shrugged. "I think the nurse has a thing for me." He winked and Layla laughed.

He wrapped the ice around it next, then leaned against the tree. "Going dress shopping soon?"

Homecoming was not this weekend but next. At least the bruise would be gone by then. "I don't know. Maybe."

Layla hesitated, then added, "I'm sorry about that, by the way. I didn't mean too, it's just that he gets me so worked up and I wasn't thinking."

"Don't give yourself a brain hemorrhage, Hippy. I'll go along with it."

"Really?"

"Mhm. Just don't expect me to rent a tux."

"…Okay."

Layla settled on her back and focused on the sun above her and the grass beneath her and the tree near her and Warren.

Within ten minutes she was asleep.

Warren woke her when the final bell rang, and instead of being mad, she yawned and smiled at him.

"Here, keep this. Put it on every night, okay?" He instructed, handing her the salve.

"Sir yes sir." Layla smirked.

"That's Mr. Peace, sir, to you." He leaned in close and whispered in her ear.

Then it was his turn to smirk and Layla shivered.

"Don't think I didn't notice that," he grinned.

Layla felt a rush of desire run down her spine and settle between her legs, and she flushed bright red.

Homecoming would be interesting.

Somehow they settled into a routine.

They'd all sit together at lunch. Warren would harass her friends, and her friends would ignore his threats.

Then in the afternoons, Layla would go to the Paper Lantern and sit until closing time, and Warren would walk her home, then go back to get his bike.

He still hadn't managed to get her to ride it. He was determined to one day, though.

Sometimes they touched, and that was nice too. Turns out Warren was a very physical person once he'd warmed up to you. (No pun intended). He always made sure some part of him was in constant contact with Layla, unless he was working. Their knees touching, leaning against each other in a booth.

Once, Layla had gotten up the nerve to entwine her fingers with his. It had been late one night- the Paper Lantern had been packed, and it was a weekend- and Warren had slid into her booth to take a break from cleanup.

"You look tired." She said, brushing hair back from his face.

"So do you," he noted.

Layla had just shrugged and leaned her head over on his shoulder, heart beating out of her chest.

Her fingers had slid down his thigh, and he shuddered, and her hand found his.

He had glanced down at their joined fingers and took a shaky breath, then looked back at her; their eyes met and they both felt the connection, the pull, lean in lean in lean in…

His boss yelled then, and he jumped back, giving her hand a squeeze before pulling away, looking apologetic. She had simply smiled, and that night he had given her a piggy back ride the whole way home.

They did this for over a week, and on the Tuesday before Homecoming, Warren got off early and they decided to go see a movie later.

Which meant that Layla had to get on The Bike.

She followed Warren behind the restaurant, nervously twisting her hands together. She lost her breath when she saw it, a metal monster sitting there waiting for her.

"Maybe this wasn't a good idea." She began to protest.

"Scared, Hippy?" He taunted her, teeth flashing.

"No." Layla set her jaw.

"Prove it." He tossed a helmet at her, and she caught it, putting it on uncertainly. He put his on as well, swinging one leg over the bike expertly.

Layla's knees almost buckled at the site. Damn he was hot.

(That was another thing. Her reserves about language had almost disappeared. They were just words, after all. No big deal. She was beginning to think that while Warren was an overall good person, his bad habits were contagious).

He patted the space behind him, and Layla's legs propelled her forward without her permission.

She clumsily swung her leg over and slid into place, noticing how incredibly intimate it felt to be pressed up against him, chest-to-back, her hips fitting against his.

The bike roared to life underneath them, and she screeched and buried her face in Warren's shoulder.

He laughed. "Hold on tight, Hippy!"

Layla's main organs were left somewhere far behind her as he sped off, bike engine roaring. Her hair streamed out behind them, glowing red like Warren's fire in the sun, and slowly she began to relax.

They roared through downtown, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Will, Gwen, the Pennys, and some other popular kids hanging out outside an ice cream place, and she saw Will's shocked expression when he recognized her.

The Layla he knew would've never got on a bike like this. But the Will Layla had known would never have betrayed her, and besides, being goody good Layla got boring. She was in high school now; she should be able to have a little fun before she was expected to save the world.

Well, help her hero save the world. Whatever.

"This is so great!" She yelled to Warren over the wind and the bike's roar.

"I knew you'd love it!" He yelled back.

The bike wasn't the only thing Layla was beginning to love.

Warren's mother was small and slender with one of the prettiest faces Layla had ever seen. She was sweet and conversational, and wore pink and cute accessories. She was not what Layla had pictured her to be, but Warren shared the same brown eyes.

"My room's the second door on the right, up the stairs. You can head on up," Warren murmured, and Layla took that as a dismissal and left the kitchen where all three of them were drinking lemonade.

She stayed still on the steps, listening. Layla wasn't one to eavesdrop, but then, she wasn't one to get mad at friends, or cuss, or ride on the back of a motorcycle, either.

"I like her, Warren."

"I'm glad."

"Seriously. She's sweet and charming-"

"Ma-"

"And she sorted out my recyclables which I've been meaning to do for ages-"

"Ma!"

"And she was wearing the cutest shirt."

"Ma…"

"You two would make the most adorable couple! Really, give it a chance, won't you?"

Layla couldn't hold back her grin.

Her and Warren as a couple… The thought made her lick her lips in anticipation.

"Wait…Hang on a second…" Warren muttered, and the next second, his head popped around the corner.

"Ahh!" Layla squeaked and rushed up the steps, Warren right behind her.

"You little sneak!" He roared.

Layla reached his door and went to slam it on him, but he was faster and he knocked it open again. He grabbed her and his fingers found her ticklish sides, then her stomach.

"W-w-warren stop!" She managed around her giggles.

He pulled one hand away and held her tightly cradled against his body. Then a fireball engulfed his free fist and Layla shrieked.

"Warren!" His mother reproached from the doorway, looking very amused. "Don't scare the guests like that!"

"Yeah, don't scare the guests like this!" Layla gasped.

"Never listen in again." He ordered, and let her go.

"Alright, well, you kids be good. I have to go…. Tend to business." Warren's mother excused herself.

Layla glanced around, now having the chance to actually observe the room she was in.

Warren's bed was large, the sheets slightly singed.

He had a desk in one corner, a large bookshelf spanning two walls. There were two windows wide open, letting sunlight in.

She turned towards him and bit her lip, sitting on the edge of his mattress. He leaned against the wall and watched her.

"What time does our movie start?" She asked.

"Seven."

She nodded and kicked off her flip flops, leaned back onto the bed. Warren's eyebrows shot up, and she motioned for him to come to her.

"Lay with me," she invited.

"I don't do the whole cuddling thing," he said stiffly.

"Did I say we were cuddling?" She asked.

They ended up cuddling.

Well, Layla didn't think this really qualified as cuddling, per say. It was more like holding. He was on his back and she was sprawled across him, her head on his shoulder, their stomachs pressed together. She could feel slivers of skin against hers where their shirts had rode up. One of her legs was between his, and he had an arm around her, playing with her hair.

She didn't exactly know how this had happened, but she wasn't about to complain.

They were talking about everything and nothing; Warren's daddy issues, how Warren's name was a pun on War and Peace ("You caught that?" He asked, stunned).

Layla talked about how she felt stereotyped and underestimated. She talked about how hard it was to keep her temper lately, and how concerned it made her.

"You know, a lot of times," Warren said, "When kids come to Sky High, their powers sort of… awaken. They're being used on a daily basis, applied, strengthened. Everything is suddenly a lot more real, a lot more accepted too, so it's not uncommon for some people to lose control for a little while when they're first learning."

That made Layla feel so much better she could've done a dance right there in the middle of the floor.

Then he went on, "And if you're so tired of being stereotyped, stop wearing green so damn much."

She knew he was teasing, but what he said made sense. "Oh yeah? What color should I wear instead, then?"

He studied her a moment, making her body flush and hum.

"Red," he finally said.

She was quiet for a moment, her body thrumming with energy from being this close to Warren.

Then she turned her head to the side to look at him. "Why did you agree to come to Homecoming with me?"

"Why did you tell Will I was your date?" He countered.

"Touché." She mumbled.

After a little while longer, when she'd plucked up her courage, she kissed his cheek, then his jaw.

He rolled his head to the side and brushed her hair out of her face. "We should get going if we're gonna make it to the movie."

Layla tried not to analyze the crushing disappointment in her chest, tried not to stare at his lips, mere inches from hers. "You're right."

The movie the night before had been fun; a lot of crappy affects that Warren made fun of, Layla's favorite male actor to swoon at. (Watching Warren get so jealous he set the popcorn on fire was funny. Watching him try to put it out before smoke detectors went off was even funnier.)

Now it was Wednesday, and Homecoming was Friday, and Layla still didn't have a dress.

She did what she always did. She called Magenta.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or does the caller I.D actually read Layla Williams?" The sarcastic voice at the other end answered.

Layla winced. She'd forgotten to call Magenta last night and let her know how the movie went. "Sorry! I was so tired when I got in!"

"Uh huh. Now dish."

Layla told her all about Warren's mom, all about how they'd laid on his bed and talked, how he'd set the popcorn on fire.

"Why don't you just kiss him already?" Magenta pushed.

"I don't know!" Layla chewed on her lip. "Can we go dress shopping? Please?"

"You don't have one either? Alright, give me ten minutes, I'll be over there. Mom can give us a ride to the mall."

Layla texted Warren to let him know why she wouldn't be at the Paper Lantern.

Stay away from the greens ;) he replied.

She smiled and stuck her phone in her back pocket.

"Mom, Magenta and I are going Homecoming shopping," Layla called into the kitchen.

"Have fun!" She called back. "Hey, do you want to invite Warren over for dinner?"

Oh geez. Layla could just see how that would go. "No, Mom, he has to work!"

"That poor boy is always working," her mother sighed.

"I know." A car horn honked. "Magenta is here."

"Alright, bye! Be good! Remember to thank Magenta's mother!"

"Of course!" Layla nodded and shut the door behind her.

The mall was pretty empty; it was a random Wednesday, after all.

They hit six different stores and couldn't find a thing. Magenta went into Hot Topic, a store that had always intimidated Layla more than a little, and found a cute black and purple, lacey dress.

"Maybe I should try somewhere else, like a small store," Layla worried.

"No… Just try this one," Magenta gestured to a colorful, upbeat store tucked away in the corner.

"I didn't even see that one. Okay, this one and then I'm done," Layla agreed.

There weren't very many people in here, which made searching the racks easy. Magenta held up several green dresses in various shades and styles.

"How about these?"

Layla thumbed through them. "They're all so cute…" And they were. It was just that she didn't want to wear green to Homecoming. She had something to prove, after all, not only to Warren and Will and Gwen, but to herself.

Her eyes fell on it then; it was a tiny little thing, a short, silky, strapless red dress.

"I wanna try this on," she said, grabbing it and headed to the back, where there were curtains drawn around tiny dressing rooms.

"That?" Magenta sounded incredulous.

"Yeah. I'm… trying something new." Layla confirmed. She slipped out of her shirt and jeans and slid the dress over her head.

It conformed to her body like a second skin, and she stared wide eyed at herself in the mirror. She had curves. She'd never noticed before. It didn't clash with her hair, either, like she was expecting. It hit the middle of her thighs, making her legs look longer. With a killer pair of heels, Layla would almost be able to call herself hot.

Imagining the look on Warren's face solidified her decision. This was the one she wanted.

"What do you think?" She asked Magenta, pulling the curtain aside.

Magenta's mouth fell open. "Oh my God."

"Does it look bad?" Delusions all alone in a changing room were very different from the actual thing.

"No. It doesn't look bad at all. You're gorgeous." Magenta stressed the word, scanning Layla from head to toe.

Layla grinned. "Thanks. Can you go look for shoes while I get changed back?"

"Of course. I kinda want a new pair, too." Maj nodded.

Layla put the dress back on it's hanger and put her clothes back on. She found Magenta at the shoe section a few minutes later, comparing different styles of black pumps.

"Peep toe or criss-cross straps?" She asked.

"Peep toe. It's more feminine," Layla advised.

She scanned the rows herself and soon found the perfect pair; they were the exact shade of red as her dress; lace up ankle booties with the same peep toe as Magenta's shoes, and four inch heels.

"Whoa. Those are hot." Magenta nodded her approval. "You gonna get them?"

"Definitely."

"Warren's gonna go inferno when he sees you in that."

That's what Layla was hoping.

"Tell me."

"No."

"Come on, Hippy, just a hint!"

"Not gonna happen."

"Let me know the color, at least! It's not green, is it?"

Warren had been begging for dress details ever since he'd nonchalantly mentioned it while working and Layla had just smirked. Homecoming was tomorrow night, and she'd decided to keep the dress a secret, wait to see his reaction.

Warren didn't like secrets, apparently.

"I will get this out of you," he threatened as he cleaned his last table for the night. It had been unusually busy for a Thursday night; it was almost nine. Layla was glad her parents weren't normal ones. They didn't believe in silly restrictions such as curfews.

"You can try…" Layla trailed off, unconcerned.

He glared menacingly at her and tore his apron off.

She smiled angelically.

She slipped her fingers into his without even thinking about it, and was reluctant to let them go to get on the bike.

He took it slow and steady, not wild and crazy like the other day, turning corners smoothly and going slow. Layla relaxed and laid her head on his shoulder blade.

They came upon Will's house, and she scoffed when she saw the bright lights and heard the blaring music. Will had never been the type to throw huge parties when his parents were gone.

Another change of Gwen's, no doubt.

"Wanna crash it?" Warren asked, a dare in his voice.

"Sure!" Layla smirked.

He sped up and hit the curb; Layla squeaked, and he parked in the middle of the perfect lawn.

She swung her leg over the side, and took his hand again. The door was already half open, so she let herself in.

Mr. and Mrs. Stronghold were gonna have a cow.

The entire house was messed up; furniture was overturned, there were tons of spills, and some things were broken. Her crystal was being used as light reflectors, and the floors were scuffed. One side of the couch was broken from where Larry the Rock had sat.

Warren looked around in curious disdain. "Shittiest party I've ever been to."

"Ditto," Layla nodded, even though her party going experiences were very limited.

Heroes in training ran around wreaking havoc, and Layla moved forward, looking for Will. She wanted to let him know that what had happened to her arm was forgiven, that she knew it was a mistake. The closest she'd gotten to him since it happened was in passing, dozens of feet away in school halls.

Penny- or one of her copies- closed in on her immediately, and Warren gave her hand a tiny squeeze.

She shot him a grateful smile, and that's when Gwen decided to make her appearance. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

"Who invited the sidekick?" Penny called out, and everyone in earshot turned, "oohing" and smirking, like they were better or something.

Layla rolled her eyes. "Where's Will? Tied up on a leash out back?"

"He's avoiding you, actually. Come on, Layla. Will knew you liked him." Gwen looked mean, but mostly she just seemed bored.

Layla noticed with some satisfaction that the pink halter top she wore didn't look nearly as good on her as she probably thought it did. "Did he?"

She felt Warren step closer to her and inconspicuously leaned back against him.

"Uh huh. Obviously he's not interested. He's just too nice a guy to tell you himself." Gwen smiled in a sickly sweet sort of way and tilted her head to the side, twirling her hair.

"He wasn't too nice," one of the Pennys said, "to tell us though. God, he is constantly whining about what an obsessive little bitch you were, calling and trying to make plans all the time."

Okay, that stung a bit.

The whole time they had been friends, had Layla simply been nothing more than a nuisance?

"Whatever," Layla muttered, looking away.

"I mean, take a goddam hint, would ya? He's going to Homecoming with me, he's throwing a party and didn't invite you, and he's too embarrassed to be seen with you at school." Gwen snarled.

"I don't care, alright? Whatever was going on with me and Will- or not going on- is over now, so just back the hell off!" Layla yelled, trying to sidestep Gwen and get out of here. This had been a very bad idea.

Gwen blocked her, glancing at Warren for the first time. "Oh, that's right. Layla's got a new boy toy now. Warren Peace, resident psycho."

She looked back at Layla. "Careful, Layla. You never know when he'll turn evil. Wouldn't want to get too involved with a guy destined to end up like his father; worthless and locked up like an animal."

Warren seemed to sense a change in Layla, and he grabbed her by both forearms, careful to avoid her still-tender spot from Will. "Whoa, Hippy. Calm down."

Gwen snorted. "Like she could do anything."

"You wanna see what I can-" Layla started, then stopped. She took a deep breath like her father had taught her, and turned. "Come on, Warren, let's go. This was stupid."

He slid his hand down her arm to take her hand again and they headed towards the door.

"Layla!" Will called, coming from the kitchen, looking happy to see her.

Layla remembered what Penny had said and glared at him. "Fuck off."

"But, but, I mean," he stuttered.

"Save it." Warren growled, his free hand beginning to ignite.

Will's face hardened. "When did you become such a, a, a bitch Layla? You used to care."

That hurt more than anything else, and Layla turned away, not willing to let him see her face crumple.

"Have fun with Gwen, Stronghold," Warren stormed, throwing the ball of flames, and missing Will's head by an inch on purpose. "You two are perfect for each other; you never did deserve a second of Layla's time."

The door slammed behind them, and Layla stumbled down the porch steps and a few feet away from the house, her tears starting to pick up pace. Her shoulders shuddered and her vision blurred and she couldn't believe that that had just happened.

"Whoa, whoa," Warren said, his voice tender and soft. "Whoa, Layla. Shhh. Calm down." He wrapped his arms around her, not stiff or awkward at all, and she buried her face against his chest.

"I'm so sorry, Warren," she gasped. "I'm so sorry, this was a horrible idea."

"I was the one to suggest crashing, if you remember," he huffed, sounding frustrated with himself. "This was my fault."

"No," Layla shook her head, "it's Will's."

"Layla?" Oh great. The Commander and Jetstream were home.

Warren didn't let her go, and for that she was thankful. She just turned her head to the side.

"Layla, sweetheart, what is going on here?" Mrs. Stronghold asked.

"Will is throwing a party," she sighed.

"Well we can see that. Why? And why are you so upset?" Well, Mr. Stronghold had always been blunt.

"I guess because his prissy little girlfriend asked him to," Warren answered for her, barely contained anger in his eyes.

"You're… You're Barron's boy!" The Commander sounded utterly shocked to find his arch enemy's son in his front yard.

"Yeah." Warren's voice was flat.

Mrs. Stronghold's eyes darted back and forth and she intervened immediately. "Layla, I apologize for whatever Will has done. Warren, it was nice meeting you. Come on, Commander, we've got a son to severely punish." She drug him to the front door, cape fluttering behind her as Mr. Stronghold continued to gape like a fish at Warren, and more specifically, at Warren holding Layla.

"Where are we?" Layla sniffled, arms across her chest. She leaned back against the bike, staring at Warren through the dark. He was about thirty feet away, just gazing at her.

"Come here," he said, his voice husky, and she obeyed, going to stand just a few inches in front of him.

After a second of looking into each other's eyes, a huge circle of fire sprung up around them, about three feet high, thirty feet away in either direction.

Layla gasped, eyes going wide, and Warren smiled.

Layla focused solely on him, drinking in every word. He was letting her in, and she wasn't about to pass this up.

"Sometimes, when she thought I wouldn't notice, she'd go lie in bed for hours and not get up. She didn't sob her eyes out, and I almost wished she had, because that would've made sense, ya know? But she just laid there and one tear would come out at a time…" He trailed off, wiping a stray tear off Layla's cheek.

Another ring popped up, burning brighter than the first, and larger, a few inches outside it Layla's eyes flickered to it before returning to the deep brown ones.

"It worked. It made her happy again. I still do it sometimes, when things get really bad." He stepped back a few feet and stripped his shirt off.

Layla's eyes widened, focused on his rippling muscles and smooth skin, imagining what it must feel like, taste like.

She licked her lips.

Warren opened his palms toward her, leaving his hands at his side. Then, after a moment, the fingertips of his right hand began to spark.

The sparks dripped onto the grass and fizzled out, but sometimes they landed on his wrist, and he let these grow. They licked their way up his forearm to his bicep, onto his shoulder. They cascaded down his chest, thin little waterfalls of flame.

Any shirt he could've been wearing would have burned up.

Layla smiled at him, feeling calmer than she had in a long time. He smiled back, and lifted one arm up. A little ball of fire went rolling from his wrist, down his arm, across his shoulders, and down the other arm. He bounced it back and forth, coaxing a laugh from her.

Another ring popped up, then another, closer to where they stood. Layla wasn't scared.

Warren slowly tilted his head back and opened his mouth wide. After a second, a large fountain of fire erupted from him, shooting up to the night sky, and Layla gasped, jumping a little.

Warren could literally breathe fire.

"Oh my God!" She laughed, adrenaline and desire running through her, mixing and making her grow warm in a way that had nothing to do with the flames.

He laughed too at her reaction, then his torso burned brighter, and geysers of flame burst everywhere sporadically, turning different colors and heights, turning everything golden-blue-purple-red-pink-orange. Just not green.

It was the most magical thing Layla had ever experienced, and she wondered how anyone could have ever thought this incredible person would go evil.

"You're amazing," she breathed before she could stop herself.

Warren looked more than a little smug. "I try."

He stopped blazing himself, but the fire all around them kept on. He came back towards her, taking one of her hands in his, palm up.

"Now for the grand finale," he murmured. His eyes met hers. "You have to trust me completely for this to work, alright? You can't freak out."

"What's going to happen?" She asked, anticipation coiling in her stomach.

"You'll see. Pick a color." Layla opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. "Not green."

"Prejudiced," she grumbled. Then she smiled. "Blue."

"Is that the color of the dress?" He asked.

"You'll have to wait and see," she teased.

He rolled his eyes. "Alright. Blue it is."

A moment later, Layla's hand caught on fire.

She started to yelp and draw her hand away, but Warren held on tight. "I told you not to panic, Hippy. If you freak out, it'll burn you."

Layla relaxed instantly, meeting his eyes again before looking back down at the flame in her hand. It glowed brightly, soaring ten inches, dancing and swaying.

"Pick another color," Warren advised.

"Purple," she said without thinking, and just like that, it changed.

"Oh wow. This is incredible. How are you doing this?" She asked, grinning up at him.

He shrugged. "I dunno. How do you make flowers bloom?"

"Thank you, Warren. So much." She whispered.

He let go of her hand, and the flame went out. Her palm tingled where it had been.

Very slowly, as though he might scare her off, he brushed a piece of hair off her face. He shuffled closer to her, and she thought her heart might beat out of her chest.

He brought his other hand up to cradle her cheek and she nearly whimpered aloud. "Warren…"

"Layla…" he breathed, and then his mouth was on hers and her knees trembled with the effort of holding her up.

His mouth moved gently against hers, and she was surprised at the way they felt; how did such a hard boy have such soft lips?

Her brain stopped working and she acted on pure instinct, moving her lips with his, every inch of her tingling and wanting more.

Her fingers twisted into his black and red hair, pulling him closer, and he grunted in surprise before clutching at her lower back, drawing her to him, parting his lips and rubbing his tongue against her bottom lip.

She opened her mouth gladly, rubbed the tip of her tongue against his and moaned at the feel. He went deeper, his lips as intense and wonderful as the rest of him, kissing her mercilessly. His tongue rubbed against the roof of her mouth, and the place was so sensitive she gasped, pushing herself closer, trying to create friction.

She could feel their powers clashing, trying to find balance, and knew he felt it too. She was dimly aware of the flames around them burning brighter, higher, hotter.

Fire and earth just didn't mix. They weren't even polar opposites; there was nothing there to work with, and Layla could feel both herself and Warren desperately searching for some sort of click, some sort of stability.

And then it came.

Fire was underneath the earth, glowing hot in the core; it was the sun; it was what made life possible. Plants and trees and every other creature flourished. They relied on each other, fed off each other, in a never-ending cycle.

Warren felt it the second Layla did, and clutched her even tighter, breaking their kiss to breathe. She felt his tongue behind her ear, felt his teeth scrape her collarbone. She pressed flurries of kisses to his cheek and jaw and bare chest, any part she could reach.

He lifted her up easily, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, grinning against his mouth before kissing him some more, making sure to flick her tongue against the roof of his mouth in payback. He growled playfully, letting her support herself, tangling his fingers in her hair. She did the same, clenching her legs around him.

She could feel how much he wanted her, and she carefully rubbed her center against him. He groaned and she moaned, and they started touching all over again.

When they finally stopped a thousand lifetimes later, Layla felt dizzy and achy and sated and unsatisfied all at once. Her lips were swollen and her hair was a mess, and she was pretty sure Warren had a hickey where his neck met his shoulder.

She felt amazing.

"I should get you home," he managed, his voice cracking. He ravaged her with his eyes, memorizing the way she looked.

"Probably," she agreed, hating to say the word.

He kissed her again, sweetly this time, and when he dropped her off, he kissed her another time, a little more deeply, with a little more need.

Her mother pounced on her as soon as she was through the door; not because it was past eleven on a school night, but to shriek and ask for all the juicy details. She had seen the last kiss through the window.

Layla smiled at her mother and agreed to some tea; she gave her the footnotes version (because really, the entire evening was just too personal to share), called Magenta and gave her the full version and then some, and then went to bed.

She was in love with Warren Peace, and she'd never been happier.

"Seriously, Layla, stay still! You're lucky you don't have a hickey, I'd never get it covered up." Magenta had come over to Layla's house to get ready for the dance. The school had been buzzing with excitement all day. (Coach Boomer was not happy about having to give his gym over to the decorating committee).

Magenta was trying to do Layla's make up, but Layla was way too keyed up to sit still.

"I can't help it." Layla fidgeted, twirling her silver earring around her finger.

"There. Done. Finally. What do you think?" Magenta asked, pushing Layla towards the mirror.

Layla's hair was pinned back in curls, a few hanging down around her face. Magenta had dusted silvery eye shadow across her lids and worked magic with eyeliner and mascara.

"I think Warren and Zach are two very lucky boys," Layla's mother chimed in from the doorway.

"Thanks Mom," Layla smiled.

"Sure. Now get going! You don't want to be late. Here, take lots of pictures," her mother said, putting the camera in Layla's little clutch bag.

Layla and Magenta got to the school early, but plenty of other students had as well. The silver diamonds hung from the ceiling and the disco ball turned in the dark, making everything look silvery.

Magenta spotted Zach waiting for her at the entrance, and Layla looked around for Warren but he wasn't there yet.

"Do you mind? I'll wait with you if you want," Magenta offered.

"No, go ahead," Layla waved her friend away.

She spotted Mr. Boy working the snack table and went over to him. "Hi, Mr. Boy."

"Layla!" He greeted, smiling. "Want some punch?"

"No thanks," she shook her head.

"Don't worry, the bubbles are just ginger ale!" He said, when a stretchy arm and hand knocked the cup over on to him.

Layla turned to glare at Lash and handed Mr. Boy some napkins. "Don't mind him. He is such a jerk."

"Hope you're not talking about me," Warren said from behind her, and Layla whirled around.

He scanned her from head to toe, slowly, and the appreciative look in his eyes made her beam.

"Red, huh? Nice choice." He complimented.

"I thought you weren't going to rent a tux?" She asked quizzically.

"It was my dad's," he shrugged, "he doesn't have much use for it in solitary."

Layla tried to hide her shock and how much she was touched. She leaned in and pressed her lips against his, and he smiled when she pulled away.

After awhile, when Ethan finally showed up all decked out in orange and they'd socialized enough, Warren pulled Layla over to the corner and kissed her the way she'd been aching for.

His hands were on her hips, his leg parting both of hers-

Dimly, Layla was aware of people clapping and cheering and a bright spotlight…

And his head was tilted in a way that made tasting him so much easier and better and she ran her tongue in between his lips, stroked her hands across his broad shoulders-

"Good evening, first some quick…"

He pulled away from her, ran his tongue across the shell of her ear, made her shudder. "I fucking love what you're wearing." She shivered against him and pulled him back-

"Sorry, sorry, excuse me…"

"I thought you would," she breathed, smiling. His gaze roamed over her again, settling on her cleavage and the shape of her hips-

"A special thank you goes to our guests of honor…"

"Maybe we should just ditch this shindig altogether," Warren groaned when she pushed his shirt and jacket aside to lick at the spot she'd made-

"Most powerful super-being ever to walk the halls of Sky High… Me!"

That got Layla's attention.

She turned just in time to see Gwen Grayson rip at her skirt right there in front of everyone, revealing some sort of robotic getup and a cape. A helmet formed over her head.

"What the fuck?" Warren asked.

Layla silently echoed his sentiments.

What looked like lightning burst from Gwen's fingertips, and out slid signs reading Royal Pain.

Layla's stomach dropped through the floor. Mr. Boy had made them take a test over the most well-known battles known to hero-kind, and one of them included was the battle between Royal Pain, Jetstream, and the Commander. (Another had been the one between Barron Battle and the Commander. Layla had tried to skirt over that one).

A creepy, demented, laughing little elf thing skipped onto the stage, releasing a hatch on the podium and handing Gwen what looked like a giant, clear gun.

"What the hell is going on?" Magenta ran up to Layla, clutching her arm.

"I… I don't know…" Layla stuttered.

Zach and Ethan were right behind Magenta, and together, they moved closer to the refreshment table, closer to exits.

The Commander's voice rang out, filling the gym. "Royal Pain… is a… girl."

"Yes I'm a girl, you idiot." A robotic voice came from Gwen- er, Royal Pain. "Now prepare to be Pacified."

The Commander scoffed, and Layla and Warren shared a confused and worried look. Gwen had really lost it this time. "You really think you can kill me with that thing?"

"My dear Commander, who said anything about killing you?" Royal Pain asked.

Bursts of more lightning-stuff shot out as Royal Pain aimed at others, hitting adults and students alike. People screamed and panicked, running as fast as they could-

Only to have the exits barricaded by Speed, Lash, and Penny.

"Boomer, get the kids out of he-" the principal started to scream before she was hit, as well.

"Sparky, find an exit," Coach Boomer ordered, addressing Warren. He started to continue, and then he was hit.

"Come on," Warren directed, looking around for a moment before spotting their way out; a vent in the side of the wall.

He held Layla back, and then sent fire hurtling towards it. It fell off easily, and Magenta rushed past them, climbing inside. Layla followed, then Zach, Warren, and Ethan.

They crawled as fast as they could, and Layla tried not to feel self conscious about the way the short dress was clinging to her and the fact that Zach was right behind her.

They twisted and turned, leaving the screams and bursts of light behind. After awhile, they slowed down, and Magenta asked, "Where the hell are we?"

"In a vent?" Zach said in a duh sort of tone.

"Smart ass," Magenta hissed.

Layla stifled an almost hysterical giggle.

"Hey Warren, how about a torch?" Ethan asked.

"Not unless you wanna be barbequed," he grumbled, and Layla could feel his frustration at not being able to help anyone or anything, at feeling powerless.

An eerie green glow filled the shaft, and Layla fell to the side along with Magenta, letting Zach past.

"And then all the reindeer loved him..." Magenta sing-songed, smiling softly at Zach.

"Hey, way to glow man!" Ethan snorted.

Warren came up to Layla, and she reached out and stroked his cheek, squeezed his hand. He huffed, blowing his hair out of his eyes and motioned for her to go on.

Layla was really glad right about now that she wasn't claustrophobic.

"We've gotta get out of these goddam vents," Magenta griped in irritation.

It felt like they'd been crawling for an eternity.

"Head this way," Warren suggested, pointing to a place where the vent let out.

They did, and as soon as Zach reached the metal barrier, it was ripped out of the way.

"Sup, kid?" Layla heard Zach say.

Magenta crawled out after him, and Layla followed, pulling her dress down, but she froze when she saw Will.

He offered her a small, olive branch smile, but Layla didn't return it. He had done too much damage to be forgiven so soon, even under these circumstances.

Warren was right there with her in an instant, throwing a protective arm around her shoulders. Will's face fell a bit.

Ethan fell out of the vent, then popped back up. "Hey, Will."

"You guys are never going to believe this! Gwen-"

"Is Royal Pain's daughter?" Layla asked flatly.

"Yeah! And she-"

"Stole the Pacifier?" Zach chimed in.

"Right, yeah, and she's turned everyone into babies, including your parents, dude." Ethan sighed.

Will looked more than freaked out. "Okay, that I didn't know."

"I think this is more than anyone can handle." Layla groaned, turning and leaning against Warren, closing her eyes.

She loved that she had a safe place to land now.

"No, you guys, we can do this!" Will protested.

"Who, you and Warren? The rest of us are only sidekicks." Magenta hissed, putting an extra bite in her words.

She knew what Will had put Layla through.

Will sighed. "Just because someone has powers doesn't make them a hero. Sometimes it just makes them a jerk. It makes me a jerk."

Layla stiffened and turned around at that. Will pleaded with her with his eyes. "Layla, I'm so sorry. I never meant anything that's happened these last few weeks."

Warren went rigid behind her, and Layla realized that he probably thought she was going to fall into Will's arms now, leave him all alone.

Couldn't he see that she needed him as much as he needed her?

They were fucking co-dependent.

"And in case my homecoming date ends up killing me tonight," Will said, stepping closer, "I just want you to know-"

"No Will." She protested, stepping backwards. Warren looked down at her in shock. "No."

Will's eyes went wide, glancing between her and Warren. "W-what?"

"I said no. I-" Layla cut herself off. What if Warren didn't feel the way she felt, even after all they'd been through? Oh, well, too late now. "I'm in love with Warren, okay?"

"Please tell me you're joking," Will said weakly.

Layla stared up at Warren, gray meeting brown. "No. I'm not joking."

"I love you too," he whispered, and a giddy sort of head rush clouded over Layla's brain because all of this seemed to be happening very fast but it was oh so right, and she reached up to kiss him-

"Isn't that sweet? I hate sweet," Penny snapped from behind them, standing between Lash and Speed.

"You guys are involved in this too? Why am I not surprised?" Will asked, glaring.

"Go take care of Gwen," Warren said darkly, "we'll handle these bitches."

With one last despairing look at Layla, Will ran off, straight through a wall.

Lash reached out, grabbing Magenta by the throat. "Hey there little rat. Hard to transform now, huh? Worthless. You shouldn't have even been allowed into this school."

"Maj!" Zach yelped, reaching out, catching her when Lash let her go. He pulled her back into the air vent, and Layla could hear her gasps and wheezes, and Zach trying to take care of her.

Warren took off his jacket and flamed up instantly. Speed rushed past him and Warren took off, still blazing.

Penny duplicated and came after Layla. She barely had time to see Warren turning the corner and Ethan being grabbed before she branched off into another hallway, her heels clicking on the floor.

Layla burst through the double doors, into the cafeteria.

"Come on, you little sidekick slut," Penny taunted, "aren't ya gonna fight back?"

Layla turned around, pressed against the big glass windows now. "I don't believe in using my powers for violence," she said as calmly as she could managed.

She hoped Warren was alright. She remembered the way Speed had cut off his air supply during Save The Citizen, and fear gripped her.

"I don't believe you even have any powers," Penny smirked.

And then she hit her, right across the mouth. The side of Layla's face erupted in pain as her neck twisted harshly to the side.

"Ha," Penny said cutely, spitefully.

"Big mistake, bitch," Layla said, wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth. It matched her dress.

She felt her powers inside her, lying in wait, and she tapped into them, remembering the forests she'd grown outside her house, the gardens that rivaled royalty's. This was just like that, only anger and not peaceful, creative imagination was fueling her now.

She reached for the ivy outside the windows, felt them grow and coil, and raised her hands up to direct them.

Penny actually stepped back.

A few seconds later, and the enlarged, strengthened vines burst through the windows. Glass shattered and rained down on Layla, cutting into her back and shoulders and legs. They wrapped around each of the Pennys, and tightened until they could barely breathe, out long move.

"I thought you were a sidekick!" One of them called out.

Layla smiled. "I am a sidekick."

She started to turn, to walk away, go find Warren, when another Penny called out, "Don't leave us here to die!"

Layla turned back around.

"Royal Pain is sabotaging the antigravity device!"

"The whole school is going to fall out of the sky!"

"We only have ten minutes!"

Way to totally keep the plan a secret, mutant Barbie.

Layla raced through the halls, ignoring the sting of the glass.

Warren met her back where the halls conjoined, and she raced to him, holding him tight against her. He was safe.

"Hey," he breathed, kissing her and simultaneously picking glass out of her hair and brushing it off her shoulders.

"Come on, there's no time for that. We need to get to Principal Powers' office," Layla grabbed his hand and drug him along behind her.

"What, why?"

"Because we need a map to the antigravity device. Royal Pain sabotaged it, we have ten minutes until we start falling." She summarized.

He started to run.

They hit the door head-on, Warren blasting right through it. They scourged the cabinets and finally found what they were looking for- the internal map of the school.

They found Ethan, and ran back to the vent together. "Zach, Maj!"

They crawled, out, Magenta still seeming shaken. Layla explained once again and laid the map out on the floor.

Warren leaned against the wall, keeping watch, while they tried to come up with a plan.

"Here's the antigravity room," Layla pointed.

"Didn't Royal Pain seal off every route?" Magenta pointed out.

"Hey, what about this?" Ethan pointed.

Zach snorted. "Yeah right, you'd have to be like a rat to fit in there."

Everyone instantly looked at Magenta. She winced and averted her gaze. "Don't use that word."

Zach's eyes widened in understanding and he reached out, drew her to him, kissed her on the forehead. "C'mon, Maj, You're the only one who can do this."

After a moment's hesitation (a moment they didn't have) she nodded.

They'd left Ethan and Zach to direct Magenta, and were trying to find Royal Pain and Will. As much of a jerk as he'd been, he still probably needed help fighting her, and Layla and Warren were the strongest (and only) two.

They followed the sound of fighting back to the gym, which was now empty of people and barricades.

"Will!" Layla called, finding him hovering over top of Gwen/Royal Pain. Had he already won?

Royal Pain repowered and hit him hard, sending him crashing through a window.

Seeing her best friend since first grade go hurtling to his death sent a bolt of terror and grief through Layla. No matter how mad she was at him, she still cared. "No!"

Royal Pain turned around, probably smirking under that stupid helmet. "And there goes your last chance at stopping me."

"We'll see about that," Layla snarled, taking several enraged steps forward. Warren held her back, and she stopped dead when she saw Will outside the window, in midair.

"Surprised?" He called. "Yeah, so am I."

"You're flying?" Royal Pain gasped. "That's impossible."

Will surged forward, grabbing her and carrying her upwards, then dropping her and hitting her as hard as she'd struck him.

Her helmet went flying off and she laid motionless.

For a beat everything was still, and then Will was rushing towards Layla and grabbing her in a bone crushing hug and she didn't protest because a part of him was still her friend and he was alive and Warren was awkwardly clapping him on the back while pulling Layla away-

Layla's stomach and heart dropped and her knees buckled when the floor dropped out from under her.

She shrieked and grabbed onto to Warren, holding tight. "The school is falling!"

"Oh God, if we make it out of this I'm gonna kill Magenta," Warren groaned, gathering Layla to him as best he could.

They could hear Ethan and Zach screaming out in the hall, and Layla felt a scream of her own rising in her own throat-

Just like that, Will was gone.

Layla clutched at Warren, wishing the horrible free-fall-feeling deep inside her would go away.

"Warren," she cried, a sob escaping her. She was more scared than she'd ever been in her entire life.

What if they hit the ground and they all died? What if this was it?

He gritted his teeth and held her tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

And just like that, it was over.

They stopped falling.

Slowly, they started rising. It was almost the same feeling as when you're on the freeway and a big truck goes past, making you feel like you're going backwards.

Black spots danced in front of Layla's vision.

"Oh my God," she whimpered.

"Holy fucking shit, mother of Jesus," Warren gasped, shaking.

Layla was trembling so hard she was practically vibrating.

They laid there on the floor together, until the school stopped moving.

Then Ethan, Zach, and Magenta came running in.

"Took you fucking long enough!" Warren yelled.

"I'm sorry!" Magenta squeaked, her cheeks stained with runny mascara, and Warren softened.

Layla jumped up on legs that felt like jelly and hugged Maj, the two rocking back and forth.

Will came flying back in. "Ron Wilson needs us, but first we should probably take care of Royal Pain and her posse."

They decided to put them all in the detention room until Principal Powers was back to herself and could decide what to do.

They unloaded all the babies, and then stood around awkwardly.

"Um… Now what?" Layla asked.

"Perhaps I could be of assistance," a small voice piped up.

When the science teacher was through explaining, and several people had been returned to their appropriate ages, and Principal Powers was once again the picture of decorum and order, the group stood huddled together, not entirely sure of what to do with themselves.

It had been a long night.

Layla was curled up on Warren's lap. He'd went to the nurse's station to get some Band-Aids and cream for her cuts, and was now patching her up.

"Best doctor ever," she purred against his lips and he grinned.

He stroked her bare thigh absently, sending tingles through her worn-out body.

Zach was holding hands with Magenta, and they were whispering quietly. Ethan was emerging from the de-Pacifying line and looking for another baby.

"I think this belongs to the real heroes," Jetstream suddenly said, and handed the fake trophy down to Layla.

Ethan and Zach grinned, putting their hands on it. Magenta stuck out her finger. Warren just shrugged and kissed Layla on the lips gently.

Her eyelids fluttered shut and he sucked on her upper lip a little before releasing her. She relaxed against him.

"Whatever your teaching them, keep teaching…them…it." The Commander advised Mr. Boy. Jetstream gave him a kiss on the cheek and he flushed crimson.

Will seemed amused, and settled down between Ethan and Zach.

The assembled teenagers cheered.

The group looked at each other, standing in the back corner. "I really just wanna get out of here," Magenta muttered.

"Me too," Layla nodded.

"I've had enough excitement to last me a long time!" Ethan yawned, rubbing a hand over his face.

"I don't wanna leave you alone," Warren frowned, brushing a curl off of Layla's neck.

"I don't want to leave any of you guys," Zach said.

"I have an idea." Will said. "Layla, is your mom still up for hosting sleepovers?"

Layla smiled slowly. "I think so."

Looked like they were getting the band back together.

The next morning dawned bright and sunny. Layla was tucked safely underneath Warren's arm, Magenta pressed into her other side. All six of them had slept in the Williams' living room floor, among a mess of a million blankets and pillows.

All the parents had congregated late last night, bringing pajamas and clothes and making sure their kids really were alright. A big barbecue was planned for tonight. Everyone got along smashingly, even Mr. and Mrs. Stronghold and Warren's mom.

Layla's mother was delighted to have a houseful of teens. She was nurturing by nature, and couldn't wait to get to know everyone.

Layla's father had studied Warren intensely and then warned him that if he stepped a toe out of line, he would regret it; Layla had cracked up at the thought of her sweet father threatening someone.

Warren hadn't seem as amused.

Layla and Warren bowed out of the barbecue early that night, escaping on his bike. They went back to his empty house, kissing their way from the driveway to the living room.

Layla's knees pressed into the couch and she leaned against it, allowing his tongue into her mouth, sliding his shirt up and over.

Things were never meant to be slow with the two of them.

Not when they got going like this.

She sighed and traced every contour of his chest with her fingers, down to his stomach, over his arms. He shuddered underneath her.

"I love you," he whispered raggedly.

"I love you," she breathed back, looking up at him in wonder.

If someone had told her a few months ago that this is what she'd be doing and saying to Warren Peace she'd have laughed in their face. Now there was nowhere else she'd rather be in the entire world.

His fingers slid up under her shirt, teasing around her belly button. She moaned and arched her back, kissing down his neck, across his collar bone.

His hand found her butt, squeezed once, then hiked her leg over his hip. She sighed before bringing her mouth back to his.

He picked her up and carried her upstairs to his room. Her shirt got lost somewhere, and then her jeans, and suddenly there was nothing but skin on skin, delicious touches and moans and friction and pleading and ecstasy and pain and declarations of love and tiny bursts of flame moving up and down their entwined bodies.

Outside, the flowers bloomed larger and more stunning than they ever had before.

Layla Williams loved to love Warren Peace.

Fin

#warren/layla #warren x layla #warren peace #layla williams #phoenix #flower woman #sky high movie #sky high 2005 #sky high

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