AN: Continue I will!!  *giggles ecstatically*  I love them too, and am completely obsessed.  All I buy are Kitty and Peter comics, and you should have seen my when I got one of them kissing.  I'm seriously thinking of building a shrine of my fav comic and anime characters now….   I hope you all like this ultra-fluffy chapter! ^_^  Oh, and Kraft Dinner is really, really cheap cheese coated pasta.

Chapter Three: Dusk



Somehow, the kids made it through the day by themselves. An absence of teachers, however unusual to most kids, was slowly growing more and more common. Some kids, like Kitty, wondered how it would affect their schoolwork. Other kids loved it, like Spyke, who had gotten caught for illegal skateboarding inside the house on more than one occasion. At such times the professors usually assigned enough homework or assignments for sanity to be lost so that the students would have something to do.

Despite eager tensions and jumping at any crack or creak during the day, the older kids found things to occupy the time of the younger students, all the while wondering what they were going to do tomorrow if the teachers still had not returned. Everyone, with the exception of the older kids who were busy playing baby sitter, had completed their homework. They'd cleaned the whole house and repaired what they could. They'd found spaghetti for supper, and no one wanted pasta again after the lunch incident. They'd gone for walks, watched movies, and at seven o'clock, the kids were slowly beginning to nervously drift off to bed.

As they had expected, the students still had fears. No one wanted to go to bed, even though they were yawning and nodding off as they complained. Siren, the only one there beside Peter who had been shot, was probably one of the most frightened. Having been told about how Colossus and Kitty bravely sat up all night to protect them, she nervously tugged at his shirt. "Can you watch us again tonight, Petey?"

He wished he could. Oh, he wished he could, but he knew his body would kill him if he tried to stay up all night again. He and Katherine had finished up half a box of coffee trying to stay up this late alone. "Nyet, Siren. I can not. Even I am not strong enough to stay up for more than thirty six hours. Perhaps that means I should eat more vegetables?" He tickled her and she giggled.

Pietro and Alex, surprisingly, stepped up to the occasion. "No prob," Pietro said, looping an arm around Havok'c neck. "Alex and I will do it. Yeah, sure, we'll be dead tomorrow, but we got some sleep last night, so we can manage it. We can get our energy by polishing off that ice cream in the fridge or something."

Feeling much better knowing that somebody would be up watching after them, the children finally truly began their drifting off to bed. Peter smiled at Pietro. "Thank you, tovarish. After I get some sleep, I can keep watch tomorrow night, if the teachers still are not returned."

Only a short while after that, Katherine was searching the hallways trying to find the Russian. She wanted to know when they were going to do the painting she'd agreed to. It was getting late, and she wasn't even sure as to what to wear. Passing by the Professor's office, she heard noises inside, and literally stuck her head through the door to take a peek.

"Peter?" she called out, seeing at who was standing in front of the desk. She phased through the door and he glanced up, startled and guilty looking. "Why are you going through the Professor's stuff?"

"Forgive me, Katya. Your curiosity, it seems, is contagious. That turned out more like a replacing of blame then a compliment I had meant. I apologize again." He waved some papers in the air. "I could not longer help myself, it seems. I though perhaps there might be some information in he regarding the downstairs or the room you and Pietro discovered, but there is very little. However," he said, beginning to clean up, "I did discover the purpose of the room. It is a giant machine to find mutants."

Katherine frowned. "A machine to find mutants? What's Professor Xavier doing with one of those?"

The smile he gave her was amused. "You are the smart one. Don't you know? This would be how the Professor found us all. Rogue, from the south, Bobby, from Boston, myself and Illyana, all the way from Russia. The scope of this machine must be astounding! So, what are you here for?"

"Oh, right. I was wondering when you wanted to start painting. I don't think it would work out well if you fell asleep at the wheel." She laughed nervously. Katherine felt like she was trying to pick out the colour of her prom dress, and at fourteen years of age, it made her feel ridiculous. "I also kind of wanted to know what you wanted me to wear. . . ."

After putting the papers back in their proper place, he reached out and tugged some of the strands of hair that had escaped her bun. "I have no eye for fashion, Katya. Wear whatever you so desire. All I ask is that you wear your hair down. I think you look much prettier that way." Peter's blush was so hot he felt like the sun. Had he just said that?

Blushing at his compliment, she nodded, and began to hatch a rather devious plan. "Where and when do you want me to meet you?"

"Whenever you are ready... and could we maybe paint in the greenhouse? I'd maybe like a background of plants. I'll see you down there when you are ready."

Kitty smiled at him and gave him a thumbs up. "No problem. Now I have to go and try to work all the knots out of my hair. And try and find something nice to wear. I can't have you painting somebody wearing a Smurfs t-shirt and a pair of bell bottom jeans, now could I? Looks like I might go and try raiding Rogue's closet! Bye bye!" She phased through the floor and let out her breath when she was a level down. Oh, this was going to be interesting!

****



Her hair was, as she had assumed, a nightmare to get through. But, after much persistence and cursing, she managed to tame hair that had been knotted and leaf-ridden beyond recognition only twelve hours ago. Katherine was most apprehensive about what to wear. She'd considered -even looked- through Rogue's wardrobe, but Rogue was a few years older than she, and it would have been wrong to take her apparel without first asking. So Katherine was systematically going through her own closet, trying to find something nice to wear.

She wanted something that wouldn't be childish, but that wouldn't make her look like she was a child dressing up in her mother's clothes. Katherine wanted something that would make Peter's jaw drop, but in a nice way. She wanted something that would make her feel like a princess, but still let her feel comfortable. All that, she decided, could be summed up as something nice.

Finally, she found it. It was a dress her mother had sent over because she thought it would look nice on her. Katherine slipped it on, and new she'd found the right thing. The dress clung to her hips, and came down to a little above her knees, making her feel like Tinkerbell. It was in a light blue shade, and was so graceful it resembled water when she moved. Kitty twirled in front of her mirror just to watch it move. Though it accented her hourglass figure, it was loose in the front and back. To top it off, the collar was oriental style and it was sleeveless.

With her Tinkerbell dress and her hair brushed until it shone, she considered putting on lip balm, but told herself she was crazy for even thinking it. She was going to help out Peter by posing for him for one of his paintings, she was not going for a modelling session.

'Oh, all right,' she admitted to herself. 'Yes, you do have other intentions, but the idea is your going to pose for a freaking painting! Now, hurry up and go downstairs before he thinks you fell asleep and forgot all about him!'

Katherine phased all the way downstairs to save time, and then phased all the way to the greenhouse to save on even more time. When she got there, she found Peter busy assembling all his paints, not aware of her presence. She gave tiny cough, and he whipped around, but even he thought the image before him had been worth a near heart attack.

He almost lost the grip on the paint he held in his hand. "Katya. . . . I did not expect you so soon!" He paused and swallowed. "Er... you look. . . ." She twirled in front of him like a ballerina and he smiled. Go ahead, throw caution to the wind! Hey, best time to get a girl mad at you is when she can throw a pot at your head without getting in trouble from the teachers! "You look beautiful."

An itch he'd only ever felt for painting took over his fingers. He wanted to reach out and brush her hair, to play with it. When she shyly blushed, he wanted to kiss her forehead to make her look back up. Katherine was much too strong to look down at the ground whenever she received a compliment.

Shaking her long hair out of the way, Kitty looked around the green house and found that he'd lit a small batch of candles by one of the plants. She thought it was incredibly romantic, even if it was for the purpose of art rather than romance. Her eyes turned back to Peter. He looked so handsome, standing there. Why couldn't she say it? Kitty knew he'd dressed up, and just for her too. He wasn't wearing his normal painting shirt, the one that looked as though a rainbow had thrown up all over it.

"Where do you want me to sit?" she asked. Katherine corrected herself. "Or stand. You know... you're the painter."

"You're just. . . ." he began, trailing off. He could admit to her that she was beautiful, but there was no way that he could tell her that she was his muse. How could he tell Kitty that any work he felt proud of was because he had been thinking of her when he had painted them? Peter noticed she was staring at him, obviously wondering what he had been planning on saying. He let the thought drop, dead on the floor. "I am, as you pointed out, the painter. Thank you for helping me out, Katya. Although I'm sure you will be sick of me thanking you when the picture is finished. I will have to make sure to give you thanks every night."

"Don't mention it, Piotr. It's no problem at all." She grinned when she saw that he'd been surprised when she had called him by his Russian name instead of his English one, but feigned innocence. "What?"

He shook his head. "Never mind. Please, sit by the candles. I find that the effect they create is so much prettier than indoor light, and the sun has already sunk below the horizon." Peter followed her to his seat and sank down to one knee in front of her. He noticed that her hazel eyes widened, but did not know why she looked she nervous or excited.

When he took her hands she felt goose bumps and tingles race up her arms. She felt ice cold. He folded them in her lap and his fingers gently traced hers before the painter continued to arrange his subject. He rubbed her shoulders which he found amazingly tense, and corrected her posture, which was already close to perfect anyway. Katherine's cold skin began to feel incredibly warm. Her spine didn't seem to know this as shivers trailed up and down her spine. She didn't know what this feeling was supposed to be called, but she liked it.

Satisfied, he stood up a bit and cupped her face in his large hands. She really did look beautiful. He angled her neck downwards, their eyes locked. Her skin was so nice and soft. Letting her go, he pretended to arrange her hair just so that he could run his fingers through it. He felt her shiver, and continued into his body. It would be. . . .

It would just be so easy to lean down and kiss him, wouldn't it? She didn't need the pretty dress or some sort of plan, she just needed to lean down and kiss him. She could reach out and brush his hair, and then he'd briefly have to hold her hand again as he corrected his model. It would be so easy!

Kitty was going to go for it, but then the truth dawned on her. Everything would change after that. She couldn't be trusted to be his model anymore because he would think she was always trying to make out with him when he held her hand or something. If he didn't reciprocate her feelings, then every time she did something nice for him he'd think she was trying to get her to like him.

He stopped playing with her hair. "No smile, Katya? Now who would believe that my subject was a princess if she didn't smile? Nyet, Katya, not a grin. A pretty smile for a princess or a sprite. That's the one. Now, hold that pose as long as you can."

Peter smiled at her over the canvas. "And stop looking at me. Look down at the ground as your subjects are below waving to someone they love unconditionally."

While he painted the feeling never go away. Kitty was the best model Peter had ever had- though not that he had found many of them. Afterwards she wondered if she had ever even blinked. All she knew for certain was that he fingers were trembling and she hoped he didn't notice, and that whenever he glanced up at her, she could almost feel his eyes on her. She even knew that he was smiling when he did so, even though he was trying to be critical about his work.

The hardest part was trying to keep the proper smile. Every time he looked up, she wanted to smile more. He just had that effect on her. Whenever she thought about how he had called her beautiful, his fingers running over hers, his hands on her cheek, rubbing her shoulders... she wanted to break into a giggle-fit and skip around the greenhouse like a dryad in Bacchus' processional. The worst when she thought of his fingers trailing through her hair. Why couldn't he do that again? Why couldn't he do that more often?

Finally, after what seemed like a bittersweet eternity, Peter put down the paintbrush. "There. I am done for the night. If I do anymore, I will collapse into my own artwork, and my subject will fall asleep as well."

Katherine let out the yawn she had been holding for what turned out to be an hour and a half. She slowly climbed off the bench she had been sitting on. Kitty stretched, and was immediately back to her usual self. The last time she had been so quiet she had. . . Bad thought. "Did you know that bench gets really hard after the first forty-five minutes?"

"Nyet. Perhaps the next time we do it, we will get you a pillow to sit on. Would you like to see what I have done so far? It is not much, but it is a good start. Just be careful. Most of the paint is still wet."

She walked over to stand beside him and looked at the panting. No, it really didn't seem like much. Just the basic shapes, really. But she could make out the different plants she had been sitting in front of, her hair, her face. He'd created a base to start upon, and next time he would add unto that layer. She rubbed his arm encouragingly. "I'm no art critic, and I have no idea how to paint, but if you paint it I know that it will turn out wonderful."

He appeared a bit surprised, like a child who held up a picture of a dog and gets told they drew a wonderful giraffe. Kitty grinned and rubbed her cheek against the arm she now held. "I'm joking, Peter. I think it already looks like it could hang in the louvre." Kitty glanced between the candles and the painting. "So is this supposed to be a recreation of the wonderful inspiration you found last night?"

"Yes. I will not be as close to the real thing, but thanks to your help, it will be amazingly similar."

Katherine looked at with mischief in her eyes. "Want to see what I learned last night?" She considered that statement and corrected herself. "Actually, it was this morning."

"Certainly," he answered without hesitation as to what she would be doing. In a flash he saw that the ground was several inches further away than it had been a moment ago. As if on instinct, he wrapped his arms around Katherine, trying to keep her safe from a nonexistent threat. He glanced at Kitty questioningly, held safely in his arms. "You can float other people?"

"Yup!" she cheerfully replied. She resisted the urge to lay her head against his chest. "Nifty, isn't it? I can't do it for very long, though. I need to practice it. Still. . . ." She let the though hang in the air as she lowered them back down. Their feet solid and on solid ground again, she was pleasantly relieve when he didn't immediately let her go. He was so nice and warm.

They stared at each other, smiling, both wondering what the other was thinking. Was she angered that he hadn't let go? Was he holding her because he wanted to or for some other reason? Katherine giggled, but it wasn't actually because she was being held by her secret crush, but because Pietro had been right. She was getting a cramp from staring up at him for so very long.

As if guided by some cosmic force, they both started leaning forward at the same time. Surprised, they stopped. Katherine felt her heart try to leap out of her chest, her hazel eyes drowning with hope. "Were you going to try and kiss me?" she asked in a gentle whisper.

Peter hesitated for a moment and then decided to bite the bullet before they were interrupted, as peace never lasted long in the Xavier mansion. And, as he had noticed, she had been leaning forward as well. "Yes, I was. Were you going to try and kiss me?"

She nodded. "Yes, I was. Well, as long as we're all clear then."

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she was all but lifted off the ground as his arms tightened to hold her closer to his body. His fingertips played with her hair as they kissed. Waves of pleasure rolled up and down her back. So this was what kissing was like! She could feel the heat from his cheeks. All she could smell was Peter; his paint supplies, his shampoo, his cologne. His lips were so warm as they pressed against hers. Katherine knew what she had to do from watching too many Audrey Hepburn movies. She moved her lips against his and he copied her example. She felt like her body was on overload, like she could just melt right through him. . . .

Or phase.

"Are you two done in here yet? You guys should get going to bed! It's almost ten o'clock and. . . ." The door slammed open. With only a few candles to light Kitty's face and a small lamp over the easel to give Colossus some light to work by, the hallway was more blinding than the blue and white tunnel system ten feet below where Katherine and Peter now stood. Blinded, they shielded their eyes and tried to hide their blush.

Pietro flicked on the lights in the greenhouse, blinding them even further. He put his hands on his hips and tapped his foot. "Well, well, well? What do we have here? Plants, candles, paints, and two blushing brides instead of one. Trying to get in a quick peck before bed time, were we folks?"

"Does it look like we were kissing?" she angrily demanded. Kitty copied his stance, and pulled it off with much more success. She pointed to the ground to show that she was hovering an inch or two over it. "When here I was phasing through him on my way out. Really you shouldn't jump to conclusions so easily. Assuming only makes an ass out of you and me, Pietro."

Peter jumped into the conversation, picking up on her ploy. "Don't you have better manners than that? I never realized that you could actually open your mouth and insert your foot in the same amount of time it takes for you to make a fool out of yourself. But while you are here you might as well help me to clean up. My paintbrushes need cleaning. If you can clean them as fast as you can slander Katya and I you can be done by the time I put the rest of this away." He handed the painting to Kitty, telling her to be careful. "Since my bedroom is on the way to yours, do you think you could maybe put this away for me?"

She had to solidify herself to take it, not wanting to take any chances with something she and Peter shared in common. Their fingers briefly touched and they both looked uncomfortable, but pleased. Pietro noticed, but thought it was just being Kitty and Peter being... well... Kitty and Peter.

Before she left, he whispered something to her very slowly in Russian. She smiled and nodded, half understanding. Pietro also noticed this, and felt jilted. When Kitty phased through the wall, he immediately began to pester Peter. "What was the all about, big guy? C'mon! You can tell me. It's just us guys here, right?" He remained silent. "Peter? Aw, come on, Peter! I don't speak Russian!"

He grinned. "That's alright, Pietro. Neither does she."

Upstairs, Kitty delicately placed the canvas on the spare easel. The only English word he'd said was desk. On the piece of furniture Peter had mentioned she found an English to Russian and vice versa dictionary. It took a moment to translate what he had said (after deciding that 'I love your flounder and cheese' made no sense whatsoever) Katherine was so happy she couldn't help but float to her bedroom where she scribbled it down to always remember it.

'See you tomorrow, love.'