Disclaimer: If you go back, waaaay back, alllll the way back to chapter one? That's where you'll find the disclaimer.

A/N: Okay, yeah, I might've fibbed a little. You honestly think I'd just leave Wanda and Johnny like that without a proper send-off? This, my dear friends, is the last chapter of Social Status. A moment of silence now…

Okay. We're done.

Y' are so immature.

Indy's got a point, luv.

WHAT did y' jus' call her?

Indy, why do you care? I thought you and Ash were just colleagues.


Aw, don' worry 'bout it, luv. Ya know Oi don' mean anything boy it.


Okay. That was weird.

This chapter is dedicated to roguelover321, who always takes time to leave a review, and has faithfully read… I think every chapter of this fic. Thank you so much.

0o0-The-Melodious-Nocturne-0o0 has offered to do some fanart for this fic. It's an enormous compliment to me that someone would want to do that, and so I hope you all check it out on deviantart. I will be posting the link (with spaces) in my upcoming X-Men fic. She's awesome.

Oh, and Blackberry? You remember that review you left a few chapters ago? You can totally blame yourself for most of this chapter.

The halls were crowded on Friday afternoon as Wanda made her way to the cafeteria. The last half of the day was dedicated to an art showing of the most talented student works, and teachers and various other staff members and artists were setting up the galleries, carrying the work out into the great hall. Parents and family members were arriving, trickling in by the twos and threes. She'd seen Pietro around somewhere, though she wasn't sure why he was there. It wasn't like she was in art.

She bounced slightly on her toes to see over the crowd of kids. Rogue caught her eye and waved, her pale hand a beacon through the dark mass of clothing and bodies. She hurried over.

"Hey, sugah," Rogue greeted lazily, leaning on Remy's shoulder. Wanda was suddenly struck by the similarities between this and their first meeting: Rogue, on Remy, his hand at her waist, and Rogue's smooth Mississippi drawl calling her 'sugah.' She glanced to the side. Apparently, that's where the similarities ended though, 'cause Johnny and his lighter were nowhere in sight.

"Hey, guys. Where's John?"

Remy sat straight up. "Porquoi? Is somthin' on fire?"

Rolling her eyes, she answered, "No. I just wanna know where he is."

"Oh." Relaxing, he slumped again. "No idea, petite."

And then, of course, Whoa, major déjà vu, there, Wanda, he came flying through the cafeteria doors and skidded to a stop beside their table, dropping into a seat gracelessly. His friends all raised an eyebrow simultaneously.

"Bonjour, mon ami."

"Hi, Rems."

He was… bouncing. In his seat. Bouncing. Up and down. In his seat. And grinning. Really, really big. Bouncing.



"Why the heck are you doing that?"

His face lit up even more (if possible), and he immediately stopped bouncing. "Funny you should ask that, luv." From under the table, he pulled out a thick sheaf of papers and dropped them onto the table in front of her.

She leaned over and read the neat, simple black print. "Charred Hearts." Her eyes shot to his beaming face. "You finished your novel!"

He nodded, infinitely pleased. "It's got crime, mystery, a little romance, and lots and lots of –"

"Fire," she finished for him, returning her gaze to the manuscript. "John-"

"Check the dedication."

She flipped the page. To Wanda. She woke up the fire. She felt her breath catch.

Looking up, she saw his aqua eyes, anxiously awaiting her response. Well. How else could she respond to that?

A/N: You may all begin blaming blackberryhuntress for everything after this point.

Wanda practically sprawled across the table and pressed her lips to John's in a kiss completely different from any they'd shared yet. Surprised, his eyes widened, then slid shut as his hands came up into her hair. She tasted like chocolate cherries, and she could've sworn that he smelled of smoke.

Remy and Rogue watched with open mouths.


"Ah know."


"Tell me about it."

"Dat's um…"



"Swamp Rat…"

Piotr Rasputin stepped back from his section of the gallery with a satisfied air. Setting up near the stairs was risky, but it also ensured a lot of traffic. Already, people were gathering to see his painting, his masterpiece.

In it, black, red, orange, and blue swirled in a mix of color and brush strokes. Wanda Maximoff and St. John Allerdyce stood side by side, looking away from each other. Her hip was touching his slightly, and his pinky was just barely hooked around hers. Both were smiling secretive smiles, and had their faces turned to the side, their profiles striking, her skin pale, his slightly more tanned. His fire colored hair and her raven-black pixie cut tipped in scarlet accented their black and red clothing perfectly, as well as their blue eyes. All around them, a halo of fire burned.

Yes, Piotr decided. It truly was a masterpiece. Possibly his best. In fact, he wasn't sure if he'd ever do a better-

He craned his neck. There, behind his painting, Jean Grey and Scott Summers were standing, arms around each other, lips locked in a passionate embrace. Her red hair was flowing down her back, and his solid shoulders were blocked in perfectly with the stair rail behind him.

Piotr got out his sketch pad.



"Je t'aime, Anna."

"Ah love you too, Cajun."

"Kiss moi?"

"Don't mahnd if Ah do-mmph!

Pietro maneuvered his way through the crowd, looking for the little auburn haired chick he'd been talking to lately. Where was she… ah.


"Hey, Pietro."

"Hey, listen. I was wondering if you were free tonight."

She looked a little uncomfortable. "Um. Sorry, Pietro, but… I'm kinda… my ex-boyfriend is back in town, and I… I kinda had plans with him tonight."

He tried not to look to crestfallen as he backed off. "Oh, right. Yeah, sure, I get it, no big."

She smiled at him. "I'm glad we're friends. See you?" she waved and walked off. He forced a smile back and waved a teeny bit.

"Wow. You just got blown off."

He turned. Facing him was a blonde bombshell in a pink top and blue hip-huggers. Her bright makeup and dangling earrings gave her a slightly gypsy-ish look, immediately catching Pietro's eye. He shrugged.

"Yeah, what about it?"

She stepped closer. "My name is Tabby."

He turned to face her fully. "I'm Pietro."

She smiled up at him, moving into his personal space. "I like your hair, Pietro."

He blinked. "Thanks. I… like yours too." She grinned up at him.

"So, let me put it like this. I'm free tonight. You're obviously free tonight. What about it?"

He thought about it for only a few seconds. "Sounds good. We'll meet somewhere?" She leaned up into his face. "You can pick me up."

"I don't know where you live."

"I'll tell you."

"Can I write it down-uh!"

"Later," she said, right before she kissed him.

"Mm, Remy…"


"Remy, Ah'm pretty sure there's a rule against this much PDA."

"Well. Never really been much fo' rules, 'ave we, Roguey?"


Across town, at the Xavier mansion, Jubilation Lee, the housekeeper of three years, opened the door to Professor Xavier's study, only to stop short immediately and stare. Apparently, the missus was home. Ororo Munroe-Xavier was straddling the professor's legs in his wheelchair, kissing him like there was no tomorrow. Jubilee squeaked slightly, and hurried out.

"Uh, did you hear something?"

"No, darling… unless you meant this." He kissed her neck and she squealed. "Charles!" He kissed her again.

Somewhere in the bayous of Louisiana…

"Come on, Katzchen. Don't you trust me?"

"Like, of course, Kurt. But… what about gators?"

He laughed. "Don't vorry, Katz. Zey von't bozzer us."

Hesitantly, she took his outstretched hand and let him help her over the side of the boat. "The mud is squishy," she said with a little laugh.

"Ja," he said absentmindedly. She glanced sideways at him, noting how his eyes were tracking her lips.

"Kurt?" she said, smiling a little at how his gaze had to refocus.

"Ja, Katzchen?" he answered finally. She bit her lip and he swallowed.

"I'm… I'm kinda scared. Do you think maybe… like, you could… I dunno, carry me or something until we get to the really dry part?" She batted her eyelashes for good measure.

Dang. She's supposed to be getting used to ze marsh. Kurt, you're done for. "Uh, sure, Keety."

Carefully, he placed his arms around her back and under her legs. She willingly wound her left arm around his neck and beamed at him. "Thanks, Kurt." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. He blushed. "No problem, Katzchen."

She had decided that she really liked kissing Remy. Kissing Remy was, in fact, a favorite pastime of hers, and had been for some years now. But she really, really liked kissing him. A lot. She'd even go so far as to say that she loved it. Kissing Remy was definitely on her list of things that she couldn't, wouldn't, and shouldn't have to live without, and she pitied all the other girls out there who didn't get to do it. But not that much. 'Cause Remy was hers.

He really loved this girl. Loved her mouth, her hair, her eyes, her body, her heart and soul. She was just… he had no idea why his "I-love-Rogue-ask-me-how" sense was going off so much so suddenly, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with the way her fingers were tracing his lower lip, and her breath kept hitching every time he kissed her ear.

Somewhere, far away in the Mongolian jungle…

Raven Darkholme-Howlett tightened her grip on the unfortunate man's throat and leaned in close.

"…And if you ever, ever, tell a soul…"

He nodded frantically. Smiling a satisfied, terrifying smile, she slowly eased her fingers apart on the man's neck.

And then the door to the hut burst open, and Logan Howlett strolled in.

"Hey, darlin'."

She whipped around. "Logan! What are you-"

"You done with him?" he interrupted, indicating the morose figure dangling from her hand. With a flick of her wrist and barely a glance she tossed him aside. "Yes, why?"

He jerked his head at the luckless Mongolian and said, "Git." The man scrambled to his feet and got.

"Logan, what-" he cut her off by yanking her to him and covering her mouth with his own. She kissed him back willingly, and finally pulled back gasping.


"Rae," he whispered into her hair. "Why wasn't I informed of and brought along on this little trip?"

She wiggled slightly against him. "You were busy…"

"With what?"

"Jean-Luc had a job for you…"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, hon. It's called a secret mission for a reason."

He smiled against her skin. "Very true…"

She grinned at him. "So… you came after me. How long did it take you to track me down?"

He shrugged. "About as long as it took to threaten Kurt with grounding for this life and the next if he didn't tell me." She scowled.

"Next time I'm telling Mattie. She doesn't blab with the threat of adolescent punishment."

Logan snickered. "I'd love to see someone threaten Mattie with adolescent punishment."

She nuzzled his neck. "So, husband…"

"Yes, wife?"

"Now that you're here…"


She leaned in and whispered in his ear. He growled softly and pressed passionate lips against her own.


"Yeah, luv?" he murmured.

"Feel my hair," she instructed, leading his hand to and from her head in one movement. He laughed as pieces of her hair came away with his fingers.

"Whoa! Look at that static cling!" She smiled at him and pushed into his space, nose brushing his.

"Guess whose fault that is?" He raised an eyebrow. "Hmmm…. Well… lemme think…"

She grinned tangled her fingers in his hair like she'd wanted to since the first moment she saw him, and kissed his static-laden lips.


"Y' know… Remy don' t'ink Kelly gon' be too 'appy if he catches us chere."

"Remy… Kelly is never happy when he catches us."

"Hmmm… touché."

"Uh, ya know... John and Wanda… Ah think they're gonna work."



"Bon. Johnny an' me, we can take y' filles out, treat y' right. Not dat I can' do it on m' own, but wit' another gal t' keep John occupied, we don' 'ave t' feel guilty 'bout leavin' him at home."

"Ya know, we should really thank Jean."

"Why would we do dat?"

"'Cause if she hadn' been so uppity 'bout Wanda sittin' wit' us, she prob'ly nevah woulda, an' we'd nevah know what a good friend she is, an' Johnny wouldn't have a girlfriend who cares 'bout him like he cares for her."

"Remy loves you chere."

"Ah know."



"Do you wanna cut the rest of taday?"

"Lord, yes."

"Let's go."

And they were gone, borrowing Rogue's keys and roaring out of the school parking lot to find some place with ice cream and a quiet atmosphere for her to read his book. Forget Jean, her father, Kelly, Creed, and heck, even Remy and Rogue for a while. This was them, social barriers, and meddling classmates be hanged. Sealed with a kiss (or two, or three), pledged in mint chocolate chip ice cream, and blazed in fire. Wanda threw her head back as St. John gunned the engine, and laughed.

A/N: That's it people. The end.

To all of the lovely people who ever read, or reviewed a single chapter of this, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your words mean so much to me.

Well. Guess this is it. Ash? Indy? You guys have anything to say? Guys?


*jump away from each other hurriedly*




Blackberry! It's contagious! Sorry, you two… I didn't think.

Actually, it wasn't that bad. She's a pretty good kisser for not having any experience whatsoever.

Not so bad y'self, Ashy.

Aw, sweet, luv.

Don' push it. We jus' gon' fo'get dat dis 'appened. Roxie, Indy don' wan' hear a word. It was de contagious makin' out dat made it happen.

Roight. You jus' keep tellin' yourself that, luv.

*hexes Ash into wall*

Well, it's officially been fun folks. And really weird at times. Like just now.

I'm heading over to the Buffy fandom for a while, to post some of my Spuffy stuff. If you're a fan, come check me out. If not, well, I'm not leaving forever. I'll be back soon and you can find me then.

See ya in the archives people.