Chapter One – A Chance Meeting
Author's Note: All Marvel properties belong to Marvel and its parent company. No infringement upon their right is intended. This story is essentially a "What If?" storyline and therefore based in a non-canonical universe.
The soft sounds of a ballad seeped through the doors of the gym. The girl in the pink taffeta gown stared at her shoes. I can't go back in. Not like this. Not after…. Her hands traveled to her left shoulder, and she fingered the broken strap hanging loosely there. Her hands fell to her sides. Tears burned her eyes as she turned away from the doors and moved towards the benches in the courtyard. How will I get home? I can't explain why I need a ride. Everyone will laugh. The tears began to fall faster. Inside she knew that they laughed at her already. The foundling, the little lost one. She wasn't what you'd call popular. Absently she wrapped her finger around her necklace and placed the medallion that hung about her neck in her mouth. She sent up a quiet prayer to St. Pulcheria asking for a sign. Suddenly the quiet of the evening was interrupted by a loud thump. The sound startled her as did the sudden shift in the wind. I didn't think the paper mill was up and running tonight. Uuggh, what an awful smell.
"Ouch!"
"Who's there?" she called out into the darkness. "Are you alright?"
A young man stepped out of the night rubbing his head. "Entschuldigen Sie, bitte," he began as he moved towards her bench.
"I'm sorry, but I don't understand you," she interrupted.
"My apologies. Getting hit on the head often causes me to revert to my native language." The young man smiled at her. As he spoke, he came into the soft glow of the lamps in the courtyard. They had been covered with pink paper shades for the dance. Everything took on a warm glow when bathed in their light. She looked at him for what seemed like forever taking in his dark hair, thin mustache and blue eyes. He's like something from a dream or maybe the movie screen.
"There's no need to apologize although you might want to be careful if you're going to speak . . . German, was it?" He nodded. "Some of the kids around here still aren't too keen on the Germans right now," she said gesturing towards the gym. "The war's been over for years, but people still hold grudges."
The young man shook his head as though confused by what she said. She reached out to touch his arm reassuringly, and he pulled away.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I ---"
"No, it is I who am sorry. I am afraid I am a bit lost," he said.
The girl rubbed her arms as though she felt a chill. "I think I understand." She took a small breath and gestured to the bench she was sitting on. "Would you care to sit down? My name is Perdita, Perdita Callaway."
"Kurt," he said, "Kurt Wagner. May I ask why you are out alone on such a lovely night?"
"I …" The words wouldn't come, but the tears did. "I apologize." She quickly ran the back of her hand across her eyes. "We really should try to find you a doctor for your head or maybe your folks if you're lost. Where are you from? You're not from Lakehurst, are you?" It was clear that he needed help, and she had been taught to help those in need. Perdita rose from her seat and began to walk towards the gym. She stopped when she felt his hand in hers.
"It can wait a moment." Kurt pulled her gently back to the bench. He tentatively reached for the broken strap on her shoulder. She flinched. "While I appreciate your desire to help me, I wonder if perhaps you might be in need of some help as well."
He sounded so concerned, and the evening had been far less than she had hoped. I could just tell him...tell him what happened. Kurt tilted his head to one side and gazed at her with interest, not pity, not curiosity, just interest. Perdita took a deep breath and tried to sort out what to say. Father Gabriel always says that confession is good for the soul, and there is something about the way he's sitting there that reminds me of him.
She sighed. "Do you know that Rosemary Clooney song? "Who Kissed Me Last Night"?" Kurt shook his head no. "Oh, well, the song is about this girl who falls in love with this mysterious man who kissed her. I always thought being kissed would be like that. That when I was kissed for the first time something magical would happen." Perdita laughed hollowly. "I suppose something magical did happen. The only problem is that it was dark magic." She gestured to her shoulder and moved her hair off her neck; Kurt noticed the faint bruises along her collar bone. The muscles in his jaw tightened as he began to piece together what the girl only hinted at. "I thought that he liked me. So when he asked me to go out to his car, I ..." her voice trailed off as the tears poured out. Kurt put his arms around her and let her sob into his shoulder.
In a short while he heard a small sniffle. "I'm so sorry. This isn't really the sort of impression I like to make. Let's go in, shall we? I'll call home and see if we can find you a place to stay." She kept her head on his shoulder for a bit longer until it began to jiggle as Kurt laughed quietly. "Is there something funny?" she asked hurt coloring her question.
Kurt paused. "No, actually, none of this is funny; however, given the number of times my shoulder has known tears, your sorrow is one that I can hope to fix." As he spoke he allowed the fingers of his right to trace the outline of her cheek. She found herself comforted by the softness of his touch and the hurt receded a bit.
The doors to the gym opened a fraction and a voice called out, "Dee?" Perdita scooted away from Kurt to the far end of the bench. "Dee, it's Sarah, honey. You okay?"
Another young woman, this time in green taffeta stepped out into the evening. Kurt marveled at their ability to move so smoothly in all those ruffles and frills. The women he knew at home had such grace but had far fewer hindrances to their movement. Perdita rose quickly to intercept her friend before the other girl saw Kurt.
"I'll be fine, Sarah. Where's Matthew?"
The other girl paused and looked back towards the gym. "Having a talk with Peter, who's been shooting his mouth off for the past ten minutes."
Perdita frowned, "Oh no, Sarah, you know Peter's dad can cause problems for Matthew."
"Don't worry, Dee. Matthew is being shipped out in a few weeks. Mr. Carpenter can't be any worse than the Vietnamese," Sarah said.
Kurt drew in a rapid breath. Sarah peered around Dee and was surprised to see a young man appear from the benches behind Perdita.
"Excuse me, ladies. I saw the lights and was hoping someone might be able to direct me to some lodging for the evening." Kurt looked at Sarah when he spoke, "My name is Kurt Wagner." For a moment, Perdita was confused that Kurt would ignore her and then realization dawned. He was protecting her, making it seem as though she hadn't been sitting out in the dark with a man she just met.
"Well, I don't see a problem with that," Sarah said. "I'm Sarah Philips and this is my friend, Perdita Callaway. Why don't you come inside? My boyfriend might be able to help you with your lodging problem."
Perdita smiled a little. "If you like, you could use the spare room at the church. I'm sure Father Gabriel would be happy to put up a traveler for the night. I can call to ask."
"That would be lovely. Thank you."
A young man came through the doors just then. When he saw Sarah, his face brightened. "I think we should leave, Sarah. Things here are less than pleasant."
Perdita's shoulders drooped. "I'm sorry to cause problems, Matthew."
"You did not cause the problem." Matthew snorted. "Your overhormoned, underbrained date caused the problem."
"Matt, we've picked up another passenger," Sarah said pointing to Kurt who stood behind Perdita. "Dee thinks he can crash at the church. She just needs to call Father Gabriel."
Matt eyed the newcomer carefully and gave a small nod. "You girls go make the call, and our new friend and I will get your wraps."