I'm bringing sexy back, Apologies for my absentee-ism but my Muse went and carked it on me, it's hard to get into a fandom when no one freakin writes it y'know? Randomly I stumbled back to ffnet one night and for a laugh I read through my old work which was, utter crap shall we say. Then trawling through reviews I noticed some were recent and decided what the hey, I am a kind and benevolent creature. Please welcome me home with open arms me lovelies.

NOTE: This fic does not take itself seriously, it will be cliche and fluffly and predictable in all the best/worst ways (depends on how you look at it) and will constantly have stupid one-liners and puns. k? POV is more jumpy than kid who hates clowns at a clown convention...Don't come here for a hard-hitting plotline and symbolism and hidden subtext etc. Come here for your typical boy on boy and Layla - bashing!

DISCLAIMER: Don't own it, just love it. This is done for pure entertainment, no monetary profit gained!

LAYLA POV

I don't know why I didn't notice it before, really. It's so obvious now.

Every time I see the two of them together it's like a slap to the face, a bucket of ice water dumped over my head, a big fat neon sign glowing: 'DUH!'

It started with the looks.

You know, a casual glance, peering at each other out of the corner of their eyes. Then the far off looks; when they'd just look at the other from a distance with a sort of, glazed look in their eyes.

Soon came the touches. A brush of the fingers when handing over an assignment and knee caps accidentally grazing under the table at lunch. Hands would go to pat the other on the shoulder in a gesture of friendship, only to linger a little too long.

Oh yes, now I know how it is between them. But they don't and that's just it! Those two numbskulls don't even realise their own feelings yet because they're too damn oblivious for their own good!

Warren predictably hides behind his tough guy façade while indiscreetly pining over Will from a distance, who is too busy continuing his pathetic play-acting of heterosexuality to even notice. A play-act in which I may add (in the most un-bitter way possible) consists of using me shamelessly!

…what was that sound? Oops, thorny vines seemed to have burst through the window and shredded that framed photo of Will on my bedside table. Pity.

Where was I? Oh yes, Them. It is really no wonder that the two boys have managed to screw things up this bad. After all, Warren's angst-filled family history has left him a bitter, unreasonable, and well…emotionally retarded pseudo-wannabe super villain. It seems his dear old Dad, that irascible Baron Battle, has unknowingly hindered any form of emotional development. Poor, poor little Warren.

Will is just, well…Will, isn't he? Not exactly renowned for his skills of deduction is he the little wank-uh, I mean wonder boy.

At this rate the two boneheads will continue to dance their merry little dance of blissful denial forever. What they need is a push in the right direction. Scratch that, they need a good, solid kick in the behind to get them out of that freakin' closet.

Some may look back on my actions last night and deem them unreasonable, just a tad too harsh.

Well, you know what you bloody busy-bodies?! Mind your own damn business!

You're not the one who's going to have to go to school tomorrow and face abject humiliation. 'The side-kick ex of Will Stronghold who was dumped for a guy.' Ditched for Warren Peace for God's sake!

Or even worse; 'She's that Hippy-chick who turned Will Stronghold, Future-Hero-of-the-World, gay.'

Every female side kick and hero of Sky High will be calling for my blood by then end of first session. So excuse me if I lacking a tad bit of tact last night, okay?

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Last Night: Layla POV

"Why Layla? I…I, I mean…I love you…we were happy…"

I gritted my teeth and fumed silently. Resist urge to roll eyes, must resist urge to roll eyes…

Yes, it's true that Will loves me, but it's not in the: I'd-die-without-you-I-need-you-I-want-you-oh-Baby-oh-Baby kind of romantic love, is it? Not in the way I loved him and simply wanted to be loved by in return anyway, was it God damnit?!

Le sigh. It is just so unfortunate that Will isn't taking the news well; but I thought it best all round to just throw propriety out the window and be blunt with him. How else could I get through that shaggy brown hair and thick skull? As for explanations, pfft who needs 'em! Spending the rest of my Saturday evening explaining my ex's own sexuality to him and the rudimentary guidelines of Boy-Boy Love did not appeal to me in the slightest thank-you-very-much.

'You'll see, Will.'

I patted his hand stiffly in one of those patronising, 'There, there.' gestures. Could the guy look anymore down-trodden and miserable?

I watched Will angst with an almost clinical interest. This was the future Saviour? Mr. Boy-Hero? My God, with his red rimmed eyes and shuddering shoulders I could hardly remember the appeal! A certain tightness loosened in my chest; it really was for the best. Ladies and Gentlemen, light at the end of the tunnel!

Though I have to admit perhaps I was taking the slightest bit of satisfaction and consolation in Will's pain, after all I had gone through it just made things more…fair.

With one last vaguely muttered condolence/half-hearted apology I sauntered away and out of the restaurant, into the fresh night air. The sky was a dark canvas full of glittering, silver stars. I breathed in deeply; life was good. The Universal Balance ahd been restored.

I had just strategically torn Will's lil' heart to itty-bitty shreds and had left him all sniffly and watery-eyed; sitting alone at a booth in the Paper Lantern. Coincidentally during Warren's shift.

Both Warren and Will, and Karma, would thank me for it later.

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Warren POV

"Why Layla? I…I, I mean…I love you…we were happy…"

I watched as Will Stronghold's face crumpled, and that fucking Bitch just sashayed out of The Paper Lantern, leaving her now ex-boyfriend with nothing but a fortune cookie and a whole lot of heartache.

Resisting the urge to hunt down the Harpy and torch her, I walked silently over to the booth where Will was sitting, gazing down at his trembling hands.

Hesitantly, I took a seat opposite Will and for a while we both sat in an awkward silence. I raged inwardly, while Will just picked at his fortune cookie in a muted daze. After a few minutes the silence was broken as Will cracked his cookie open: This is a really lovely day. Congratulations!

Will squeezed that small slip of paper in his fist until his knuckles turned white, then slowly opened his palm again. Miniscule white particles of what was once a fortune poured onto the vinyl table-top. Cautiously, I grasped Will's open hand. I noted that his hand was smoother than I'd ever imagined, and filed that memo down for later contemplation.

Slowly Will looked up and peered at me from under his soft, brown fringe and uttered one word: "Why?"

I clenched my jaw shut and concentrated on keeping my control; arson would be helping nobody at this point. Concentrating on Will's question I attempted to ignore the distracting look on my best friend's face; the one of pure grief and anguish.

I could understand his confusion easily enough. Will had been nothing but loving to that heartless cow! Sickeningly sweet PDA's in front of her locker, goofy grins and bashful compliments. Not to mention long, pointless night time phone calls…they saw each other practically every fucking day.

They went to school together, ate lunch together, walked home together, did homework together, talked together, they fucking lived and breathed each other.

Suddenly the Universal Balance had been overturned. Somewhere along the lines someone or something important had fucked up, because this was no doubt a cosmic mistake.

That girl must be a few, a few…noodles short of a stir fry if she thinks she can just…dump Will Stronghold! The hippy, side-kick, 'Let's save the Whales!', plant loving, unpopular Flower Childhad dumped the Will Stronghold! The fuck?!

The most popular guy in Sky High, the hero, son of the Commander and Jet Stream, great personality, gr…-good looks, and the all-round nice guy who helps little old ladies cross the fucking street! She dumps him!

That's fucked up.

The Gossip-mill will be working overtime on this one tomorrow, that's for fucking sure.

Seeing Will like that, with that…look made my chest tighten uncomfortably; all of a sudden I felt like either hugging the guy or punching a hole through the nearest fucking wall.

I settled for shifting in my seat uncomfortably and avoiding eye contact.

I just…couldn't stand to see him so…broken.

I noticed Will was still looking up at me expectantly, as if waiting for an answer. I struggled not to shout out what I really felt like saying:

"Because she isn't fucking GOOD enough for you! That's WHY."

Instead I attempted to vocalise the most non-verbally-violent-non-yelling-and-swearing-just-try-to-comfort-the-poor-guy comforting phrase I could come up with.

"Layla's a bitch."

Oops.

There goes that idea.

Will just gave me a watery kind of half smile before grasping my hand tighter then kind of…lying face down on the table.

I looked around the room uncomfortably, now what was I supposed to say?

I mused over the mind-boggling 'Break-up Scene' I had just been witness to. Mentally I swore a private oath to myself that tomorrow, Layla was gonna fucking get it.

The bitch could have just quietly, gently, broken it off with Will somewhere private, like his room perhaps, and given a good, valid explanation for her sudden and inexplicable change of heart. Instead she had knowingly led Will into a crowded, public place, and giving no explanation whatsoever had casually ripped his heart and self-confidence to tatters like the blood-sucking bitch I now know her to be.

Then she smiled.

She smiled, and smirked, and grinned with satisfaction as she strolled out of the joint, gleeful at the torment she was putting Will through.

The bitch has it coming.

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Gen POV

It was long after the last customer had left the Paper Lantern that two boys could be seen sitting in the dwindling candle light.

One had his tear-streaked face in the others hands, seemingly in a restless doze. The other was absentmindedly stroking the sleeping one's hair, while formulating a plan to get a certain ginger-haired snake.