Title: If I Could Ask You Anything

Author: Vi (violetfairygirl on livejournal)

Author's Note: This was written in response to a challenge on the LiveJournal community Phase&Fire. The challenge issued was "five questions John Allerdyce wants to ask Kitty Pryde, or vice-versa."

one

He'd never asked her what was so great about Bobby fucking Drake. All the girls had had a thing for him, at one time or another-throw a small group of horny teenagers together and hormones would take care of the rest. Still, John wondered what it was, exactly, that Kitty found so appealing about him. It made him cringe to think that maybe it was because Bobby seemed so normal, because to John "normal" was no better than "boring".

But then, Kitty seemed pretty normal herself, and sometimes he wondered if he was asking the wrong question of the wrong person.

two

It wasn't really a secret, John's fascination with her ability to phase through anything and everything, but John didn't ask what it felt like to be so untouchable. He'd tracked her down once with every intention of asking, but then he caught sight of her sitting on the half-wall in the garden, looking cold and small and alone, and he realized he already knew the answer.

three

Kitty threw herself into everything she did, gave everything she could give, never held back when it came to schoolwork or housework or her friends. It was puzzling to John how she could leave herself so open and fearless. He'd asked her once why she cared so much, a sarcastic question thrown out in the heat of an argument, and she had given the usual reply of how he was her friend and she always cared about her friends. Later, he wished he'd been more specific; what he really wanted to know was why Kitty cared that he was her friend.

four

After further contemplation, John decided that if he ever had the chance, what he really wanted to ask her was what her skin would feel like under his fingers. He actually did want to know, but he also wanted to see how fiercely she would blush at the remark.

five

John never asked her what she really thought of him. He wasn't sure what would be worse; if she told him he meant less to her than he thought he did, or if she told him he meant more to her than he thought he did.