Part Two
"Mmmm, do you smell that?" Rogue asked, sitting straighter on the sofa. She and a few other students had been flipping through the channels in the rec room, trying to find a movie that didn't ooze Christmas sap. They had gone around three times and, so far, were failing dismally.
Bobby looked up, sniffed the air and smiled.
"It smells like gingerbread," he said, pressing the power button on the remote control with no regrets.
"Hey," Kitty exclaimed, looking up from her laptop. "Do you suppose Miss Munroe is making Christmas cookies?"
"Cookies! Yes!" Artie cheered, his forked tongue lending him a slight lisp. "I love cookies! Let's go check it out!"
Kitty closed her laptop and jumped to her feet, her face lit by a bright grin.
"Hey, guys, remember last year when Miss Munroe made sugar cookies? Think if we ask nicely she'll do it again?"
Rogue shrugged, flipping her long, festive green scarf behind her back.
"Wouldn't hurt to try," she said. "Let's go!"
The small troupe of teenagers headed down the corridor, chattering happily amongst themselves. When they got to the kitchen door, Kitty stepped forward through the crowd.
"I'll stick my head through the door and see if it's really her," she offered.
"Sounds like a plan," Bobby said. "Go for it."
Kitty nodded and gathered her nerve to phase her head through a very solid door without a running start.
"Here goes—"
The door swung open, passing right through Kitty as though she were a ghost.
The group shrieked, and Kitty squealed: "Hey!"
"Goddess, Kitty, you gave me a fright!" Ororo gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. "That's just the kind of scare that will turn my hair white."
"I'm afraid it's a bit too late for that, Liebe," an accented voice teased from inside the kitchen.
Peering around Ororo's shoulder, the children caught sight of Kurt Wagner, cheerfully using a pastry brush to spread a thin, boiled icing over a big platter of round, brown cookies. Bobby chuckled to see the garishly bright elf hat perched rakishly on the teleporter's shadowy head.
"Mr. Wagner!" Kitty squealed, rushing into the kitchen. "So, that was you filling the place with wonderful smells?!"
Kurt broke out laughing.
"Ach, Mädchen, I believe you are the first person ever to say that to me! You have no idea how much that means to a man who is usually accused of leaving an unpleasant stench in his wake."
An image of Pepe Le Pew flashed through Ororo's mind, and she stifled a giggle with her hand.
"What's that you're makin', Mr. Wagner," Rogue asked in her deep, Southern drawl, dipping her recently de-gloved finger in the icing.
"I do hope you have washed your hands, Liebling," he chuckled, pulling his small sauce pot out of her reach. As he finished brushing the warm, vanilla-scented sugar glaze over the cookies, he explained, "These are Mother Margali's famous Christmas Lebkuchen! They are made from a very old family recipe."
"Do we get to try any?" Artie lisped.
Kurt beamed.
"Of course! I made them to share with you children. There are twenty-five cookies here. If that is not enough, I can always make more."
"So, like, what are they made of?" Kitty asked. "They smell sort of like gingerbread."
Kurt tilted his head, considering.
"Well, they are spicy like gingerbread. But they are made with a spice mix including cinnamon, nutmeg, cardamom, anise, and cloves, and they are studded with almonds and candied cherries."
"Cool!" Artie cried. "I want a Lebkuchen! When do we get to eat them?"
"Christmas day!" Kurt told him, prompting a collective moan of whiny protests from the gathered students.
"Now, now, none of that!" Kurt tutted. "They must cool and the icing must dry."
He took up his cookie platter and placed it safely on the top of the refrigerator, out of the reach of Artie's grasping hands.
"If you Kinder are so eager for cookies, I believe Fräulein Munroe has a surprise for you."
All eyes turned to Ororo as she strode over to the freezer and pulled out two balls of chilled dough.
"I was actually heading out to call you," she said, "but I see Kurt's Lebkuchen were the only lure I needed. How would you kids like to help me cut out some sugar cookies?"
The cheer her question prompted was loud enough to reach the garage at the far end of the mansion, where Logan was tweaking the engine of Scott's motorcycle. He grunted and rubbed his sensitive ears in annoyance.
"Darn kids," he muttered, and reached for the pliers.
Back in the kitchen, Rogue and Kitty rolled out dough while Bobby searched the cabinets and drawers for the cookie cutters. Several other children had trickled into the kitchen in the wake of their explosive cheer, and the big room was starting to feel busy and crowded.
Ororo smiled at the happy, domestic scene before her and searched the mini-mob for Kurt, hoping to share this warm moment with him. To her surprise, she found the formerly exuberant circus performer standing in the corner away from the laughing children, a shadowy island unto himself.
Coward! You must fight this cursed shyness, Kurt berated himself harshly, ashamed of the way he had so quickly retreated as the kitchen began to fill. Large crowds bothered him, they always had. Being in close proximity to a crowd without the protection of the limelight gave him a choked feeling he was finding impossible to fight. He felt as though he was being slowly suffocated. His face and neck grew uncomfortably warm, and he could feel his tail trembling behind him. He had to fight the urge to run, to teleport, to crouch down into a huddled ball, with all the strength of his will, but even the vow he had made to Ororo was not enough to force his feet to take him back to the counter where the children were laying claim to their favorite cutters.
They are not afraid of you, he tried to convince himself. They would never try to harm you. They like you! How can you expect to be their friend if you're too frightened to move freely among them?
"Kurt?"
A soft voice startled him out of his silent argument, and he turned to see Ororo standing beside him, her face filled with concern. He tried to give her a reassuring smile.
"I am fine, Liebe," he said, ashamed of how weak his voice sounded. He attempted a chuckle. "I'm just not very good with crowds, even friendly ones. I am trying, though! You see I have not left!"
Ororo put her hand on his shoulder, her worried eyes locked on his.
"I didn't realize how difficult this would be for you," she said. "The children will be fine on their own. Would you like to join me for a walk?"
Mein Gott, yes, anything to get out of here! Please, let me out! Kurt's mind was begging, screaming at the top of its metaphorical lungs. It would be so easy to give into those pressing sentiments, to accept her tempting offer...
Taking a deep breath, Kurt shoved the panicky voice aside, straightening his shoulders and forcing his tail to stop its agitated twitching.
"Nein," he said firmly. Then softer, "No, thank you, Fräulein. I promised you before God that I would not run away. And I will not."
He smiled, brushing her cheek with his thick finger.
"I can do this, Ororo. Besides," he said, his soft smile twisting into an impish smirk, "I want to make that special cookie I was telling you about. And I can't do that if I leave, now can I?"
Offering her a mischievous wink that implied a confidence he certainly did not feel, Kurt gently pushed his way into the midst of the laughing students.
"Mind if I squeeze through?" he asked politely, smiling as the crowd parted easily before him despite that fact that he could not stop the cold trembling in his stomach.
"Want a cutter, Mr. Wagner?" Jones asked in his calm, almost deadpan voice, his thick glasses reflecting the overhead lights and obscuring his eyes from view.
"Nein, danke," Kurt said. "I have a different shape in mind. For this cookie, I will need a knife."
Rogue reached over to the knife rack by the sink and held a small paring knife out to him over the heads of everyone else. Kurt grabbed it with his snake-like tail, giving her gloved hand a little shake of thanks in the process.
Rogue grinned and went back to rolling out dough.
Transferring the knife to his hand with an expert flip that left Artie gaping in envious amazement, Kurt sliced an unmarked section of dough free from the rest of the batch, set it on a parchment-lined tray, and began to carve.
"Bright Lady," a soft gasp sounded behind him as he put the finishing touches on his design. "Kurt, that's beautiful!"
Kurt turned to face Ororo with a shy smile.
"Of course it is, Liebe," he replied in the same soft tone. "It's you."
Kurt had caught the weather goddess in a pose that radiated freedom and power. Her long hair billowed around her, her arms were outspread as though she were attempting to embrace the clouds. Her long cape flowed out behind her slender frame, apparently rippling in the wind. With deft flicks of his knife, Kurt had even managed to carve details representing her face and uniform, details deep enough to remain shallow lines after the cooking process. Looking at it, Ororo could almost feel the caressing breeze whipping through her hair. She knew she was blushing, but the presence of the children kept her from giving into her impulse to melt.
"Oh, Kurt, it would be a shame to eat that," she said. "It's a work of art."
Kurt shrugged.
"It's a cookie, Liebe. If you want something permanent, I could always carve you something out of clay or wood."
"Hey," a young voice broke into their softly spoken conversation. "Look at that! Mr. Wagner made a cookie of Miss Munroe!"
"Oh, awesome!" another voice exclaimed. "Oh, please, Mr. Wagner, could you do me? Please, pretty please!"
"No, do Logan! With his claws out!"
"No, stupid, claws would burn!"
"Professor X! Do the Professor!"
As more and more children shouted suggestions for him to carve, Kurt shot Ororo a helpless look.
Ororo smiled and lifted a full cookie tray to slide into the hot oven.
"You're the one who opened this can of worms, Herr Wagner," she said. "I can't help it if the kids recognize talent when they see it."
Kurt flushed right up to his pointed ears, but turned back to the excited teenagers, raising his hands in mock surrender.
"All right, all right, one at a time!" he laughed. "As long as there is enough dough, I promise I will make one cookie for each of you. Does that sound fair?"
Once again, Logan's ears were assaulted by the distant din of exuberant cheering.
To Be Continued...