Author's Note: Okay, so I found this on my harddrive the other day and realized it never got posted! (Which is too bad 'cause it was written as a gift for another author—one I haven't spoken with in quite some time.) Anyway, this is my stab at the illusive Ms. Rasputin. Hopefully her fans won't flay me alive. Liberties with continuity have been taken but I was thinking this would take place sometime before the former New X-Men showed up in Limbo. Also, would-be foreign languages are in "italics", since I can't use my old fall-back method anymore apparently. Anyhoo, thanks to oldprydefan (another semi-lost friend) for the assist ages ago when this was written. And now on with it and whatnot!
Disclaimer: Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of Marvel Characters, Inc. I do not own them and am simply borrowing for my purposes. Please don't sue.

Dreaming of the Day…
by, Caliente

"I hate him!" The exclamation came just as her door flew open and a slim blonde girl threw herself onto the bed. Kitty Pryde, who had just moments before been working on an irritatingly hard math problem (calculus—who needed that, anyway?), didn't look up from the page. Maybe if she ignored the girl, she'd go away. The body on her bed flopped onto her stomach and peered at the brunette hunched at the desk. "Well? Aren't you going to say something? Like agreeing with me, for instance."

"No," Kitty replied, resigning herself to the fact that her math homework had won this round. She peered over her shoulder at her friend. "Because you don't hate him."

Now gripping her sword, the other girl sneered. "Oh, but I do."

Kitty rolled her eyes. "No, Illyana, you don't." The blonde opened her mouth to protest but Kitty ignored it. "What you have is a love/hate relationship with the Institute's own, self-appointed Cassanova." Illyana let out a noise of objection but that was also ignored. "Admit it. If you and Roberto could stop arguing for five minutes, you'd be all over him."

A disgusted look on her face, Illyana shook her head. "Never." She even shuddered for effect.

"All over him," Kitty repeated. "Like white on rice."

Gaping at her friend for a moment, Illyana finally found her voice again. "Ugh! I will never look at rice the same, you know," she accused.

Kitty smirked. "That was not an argument."

"Fine." Illyana fixed her best friend with a glare. "How's this then? He is without a doubt the last man I would ever be all over." Except in his dreams. Maybe.

Attempting to return her attention to the math on the table, Kitty shrugged. "Thems fighting words, kiddo." She glanced back again. "Just remember what I said. He's not bad looking and it would probably get him to shut up for five minutes."

Illyana shook her head. "Okay, that's it. No more Buffy for you."

"Hey!" Kitty raised her hands innocently. "I'm just sayin'."

The blonde girl blew a raspberry at her friend's back. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know what you're just saying." Then she sat up. "I think I'll go find Piotr. At least he hasn't been corrupted by Joss Whedon like some people." Point made, she flounced out the room muttering about crazy insinuations as she went.

Ignoring the faint blush mention of Piotr always brought to her cheeks, Kitty suppressed a laugh. "Crazy ADD-addled drama queen." She wouldn't have it any other way of course—Illyana always made things interesting. But the girl was definitely blind if she didn't see the Cordelia/Xander vibe they were rocking. Kitty crossed her arms. "And I am not corrupted by Joss Whedon!"

Bobby, who had the fortune (or possibly misfortune) to be walking by the open door at that moment, paused and stuck his head inside the room. "Yes, you are."

"Bobby!" Kitty cried, nearly jumping out of her chair. "What are you—argh!" Standing up, she stomped to the door and slammed it in his face. Honestly! She just wanted to do her evil, un-doable calculus homework. Couldn't everyone just leave her alone? Damn nosy mutants.

Illyana didn't bother to knock as she burst into Piotr's room. "Kitty can be so annoying sometimes, brother!" she announced in their native tongue, marching inside and plopping onto his bed exactly like she'd done in Kitty's room just minutes before. "I go to her to complain and she makes outlandish claims!" She pouted prettily but her brother didn't turn from the sketch he'd been working on. "Brother! Why are you ignoring me? I am trying to say something here!"

"I am not ignoring you, Snowflake," Piotr replied calmly, placing his charcoal in its container and wiping his hands with a towel, "and you are always saying something." She stuck her tongue out at him and he chuckled. "But, as you see fit to discuss this, what, pray tell, has Kitty done to upset you so?"

Two pairs of piercing blue eyes met and Illyana sighed, blowing her bangs out of her face. "She is always… implying things." Piotr raised an eyebrow and she sighed again. "About Roberto… and me. But it is not my fault!" she continued hastily. "He is just so infuriating! I hate him, brother."

Piotr smiled sympathetically. "Perhaps he has a—what is the phrase?—school ground crush on you."

Nose wrinkling, she shook her head. "Playground crush on me? I do not think so." She frowned thoughtfully. "He would have to stop sticking his tongue down other girls' throats for five minutes. I am certain the only person he truly cares for is himself." Piotr noted that her words rang of bitterness but chose not to comment. He didn't want his beloved baby sister's wrath turned on him. "Besides, Roberto is a jerk. And even cute jerks are still jerks."

"If you say so, Snowflake," he agreed half-heartedly. This topic really wasn't his specialty. "But he might still like you. He would have to be blind and stupid not to see how beautiful you are."

Illyana blushed. "Piotr!" she cried accusingly. "You have to say that. You are my brother!"

A bemused expression on his face, he shook his head. "No, I have to threaten to kill him if he hurts you because I am your brother," Piotr corrected. "I tell you that you are beautiful because you are. And any boy who does not see it does not deserve you."

His words left Illyana wondering where this conversation had gone so wrong. "No, but I do not want him," she objected, brows furrowed. "That is not the point. I just… gah, I do not know." She bit her lip, then sat up suddenly. "I think I will go get a cup of tea." Giving her brother a quick kiss on the cheek, she fluttered toward the door. "I love you, brother," she told him as she shut the door behind her quietly.

Shaking his head, Piotr smiled. "And I you, Snowflake," he said to the closed door, turning back to his half-finished sketch. "Even if you are a bit crazy sometimes." Honestly, teenagers. Had he been so confusing when he was that age? Unlikely, he decided. Illyana was far more free-spirited than he'd been.

Piotr was assaulted by the scent of brimstone as Kurt suddenly appeared in his room. "Piotr, my friend!" His excitement was visible and the large Russian sighed. Apparently the sketch would have to wait. "I have been working on a new Danger Room program. Care to take a spin on the pirate Bluebeard's ship?"

It was tempting to say no and work on his art more but his body was itching for a workout. "Da, Kurt." He started to say something else; however, it seemed was all the encouragement his friend needed. Kurt grabbed Piotr's hand and in an instant they were both gone, leaving only the smell of brimstone and a bit of smoke in their wake. Just another day at the Xavier Institute.

Illyana was still pouting slightly when she entered the kitchen. Her expression quickly turned to one of disdain when she caught sight of who else was currently occupying the room. Roberto. Eugh. Wrinkling her nose at him, she marched up and stood directly in front of him, hands on her hips, expectantly. He took a calm sip of whatever was in his cup, an amused expression on his face. "Well?" she demanded finally, unable to take his arrogant attitude one moment longer.

"Well, what?" he prompted in response, raising an eyebrow at her smugly. Oh, how she hated that eyebrow. And his face. And everything about him.

Illyana crossed her arms, face marked with distaste. "Are you going to move or what? I need a cup."

An infuriatingly annoying smirk formed on his face as he moved to the side, gesturing at the now empty space before her. "You need only ask, bella."

Grunting unintelligibly, she reached up and grabbed a mug. Only, now he was blocking the sink. Gritting her teeth, she smiled tightly at him. "Could you move please?" she asked, the last word cold enough to give Bobby the chills. Her eyes dared him to object.

Roberto took that dare. "Ah but I've already moved for you," he pointed out, sipping from his cup again, "and I am quite comfortable in my new position."

Shaking her head, Illyana rolled her eyes. Kitty didn't know what she was talking about. It was all about the hate. "Fine." She turned and 'accidentally' knocked Roberto's mug just enough to spill its contents down his shirt. He leapt up, cursing in Portuguese as he whipped his shirt off. "Oops! How clumsy of me." Then, she smiled sweetly and made her way to the sink, filling her cup with water. "There, you may have your spot back."

"What the hell are you thinking?" he cried, waving the wet shirt at her. "This probably cost more than your entire peasant wardrobe!" Roberto continued ranting in Portuguese but she paid him little mind as she bustled around to find the tea she wanted.

Ah, mint. Perfect. "Look, I said it was an accident," she said easily, putting her cup into the microwave. Illyana shot an innocent look his way. "Anyway, you're rich. Just buy another one."

He was seething. She smirked. Good. "That is not the point," he spat at her. "You are despicable."

The smirk died on her lips. "Well, you would know about that, wouldn't you?" she snapped back. "You stupid—"

"Uncouth—"

"—spoiled—"

"—unmannered—"

"—condescending—"

"—brat!"

"—bra—hey!" Illyana glared at her companion. "I'm not a brat! You—you are the brat!"

Roberto looked down his nose at her. "You are mistaken. The only brat I see here is you."

The microwave beeped but Illyana ignored it. "Then go look in a mirror," she growled. "You're good at that."

He looked her over from head to toe, then shook his head. "And you ought to try it, sometime."

Illyana clenched her fists at her sides. "Why I ought to…" she trailed off, looking him over. Shirtless. Tanned. Too cute for his own good.

"Ought to wha—mmph." Roberto was cut off by Illyana's hand covering his mouth.

She took a step closer, removing her hand, and he raised both eyebrows at her. "Shut up." Another step closer. "You are much cuter that way," she added in a quieter tone. Then, she reached to the side and pressed the microwave button. The door swung open, hitting him in the side. Illyana reached inside and picked up her mug. Sipping it lightly, she hid her smile at Roberto's startled expression. Ha, take that, Ricky Martin wannabe!

His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, pointing an accusing finger at her. "You—you are not a very nice person," he said once the shock wore off. "It is a shame," he continued, peering at her with a thoughtful expression, "to waste such potential…"

Rolling her eyes, she put the mug down. "Look here, you. I—" And then he did something entirely unexpected. He pinned her to the counter and cut her off with a kiss. Not a tongue down the throat kiss like she would've expected, either. (Not that she'd ever thought about kissing Roberto. He just seemed the type.) No, it was much nicer than that. Soft. Warm. She didn't know what to think.

But when she did get her head on straight again, she pushed him away. "Hey! What do you think you—" He just smiled devilishly and did it again. She tried to argue against his mouth. "You can't… can't just…" And then she gave up, snaking her arms around Roberto's very bare shoulders. She let him hoist her onto the counter and wrapped her legs around his waist. It was wrong. Very wrong. And he still pissed the hell out of her. But damn if the boy couldn't kiss.

There was a tingling sensation racing through her body. It was mildly distracting at first but slowly began to grow until her whole being felt as if it were burning red hot. Her eyes shot open and it wasn't the Institute kitchen before her but Belasco's lair in Limbo. A sharp scream ripped from her lips as the vision of what wasn't washed over her again. That wasn't her life. This was. Trapped with Belasco. Lost to her only family. Anything but normal.

Tears raced down her face from the searing pain but she ignored them. Chin quivering, she stared down her captor. "I swear to you," she breathed, ignoring the effort it took and how exhausted she felt, "I will make you pay."

Belasco's laughter was his only response. It was cold and cruel as it destroyed every one of her fantasies and dreams. But Illyana—she would have her revenge. No matter what, she would. For what he'd taken from her, he was going to pay. She'd make sure of it. Nothing could ever be worth everything he'd cost her. Nothing.

So, er, tell me what you think! Hopefully nothing too terrible…