Chapter Fourteen: Working My Way Back To You

Kitty Pryde walked into the language lab, her bag brimming with German homework but her head filled with ideas for a new computer program she really needed to talk out with Doug, her computer science partner.

"Hi, Kitty," Jamie said, smiling up at her from the front desk. Apparently, he was the lab monitor this week.

Kitty smiled back.

"Hey, Jamie," she said. "So, like, where can I sit?"

"Computer Three is free," Jamie told her, quickly typing her name into his own computer and handing her a small, laminated card with a '3' on it. "Right there, next to Mr. Wagner."

He pointed.

Kitty scrunched up her face.

"Couldn't you, like, get me a different computer?" she asked, leaning in close and keeping her voice soft so no one else could hear. "I kinda don't want to sit next to him, if you know what I mean."

Jamie scowled.

"That's not very nice," he whispered back. "Besides, I already typed your name into the records and I don't know how to delete the file."

"I do," Kitty said. "I'll show you—"

"No." Jamie shook his head firmly, standing protectively in front of his computer with his arms crossed. "If you ask me, the reason Herr Wagner's been so mean lately is because everyone's been avoiding him. If you smile at him, he'll smile back. He smiled at me just like always when I signed him in just now."

Kitty stole a glance at her teacher's back, considering Jamie's words. Then, she sighed.

"Oh, all right," she grumped. "But I don't know if I'll be able to do any work with my teacher, like, 'right there' and everything."

Jamie rolled his eyes.

"There's a divider, Kitty. If you lean forward, you won't even see him. Besides, it never bothered you before."

"That was before," Kitty said. "Back when he was, like, nice."

"He's still the same guy, Kitty," Jamie said. "Just pretend he's wearing his image inducer. That's what I do."

"Were you even, like, in his class today? If you ask me, that Twyla kid changed way more than just his looks."

Jamie shook his head a little sadly.

"Come on, Kitty," he urged. "Just go sit next to him? He needs a friend."

Kitty growled a little, but finally nodded.

"OK, Jamie" she said. "Here goes. But if he, like, bites my head off, you owe me big."

Leaving Jamie to settle himself back behind his desk, Kitty strode boldly up to Computer Three, dropping her books on the table beside the keyboard and adjusting the chair's height to accommodate her.

Kurt looked up from his computer screen, but when he saw Kitty he turned back quickly, his pale face burning. His evil mood had carried over into his German class from his earlier Latin class and, in a fit of temper, he had ended up assigning the students a heap of extra homework. He was probably the last person she wanted to see right now, let alone sit next to...

"Hello, Herr Wagner," Kitty said politely. "How's it going?"

Kurt flinched. Busted, as they said in the movies. Wincing slightly, Kurt lifted his head and carefully gauged her expression. To his surprised relief, she didn't seem angry, just a little formal. Kurt risked a tentative smile.

"It is going well, danke," he said, keeping his voice as soft as hers. It was the study period and the language lab was rather crowded. Kurt didn't want to disturb the students. Rolling back slightly, he swiveled his chair and turned to face her directly.

"Katzchen," he said, "I wish to apologize for my behavior this morning. I should not have overreacted as I did."

Kitty smiled slightly, more relieved than surprised by Kurt's complete shift in attitude.

"Yeah, well, I guess we kind of, like, deserved it. I mean, we had gone over those vocabulary words before, and, like—"

Kurt cut her off with a shake of his head.

"Nein," he told her, "you did not deserve it. There is no excuse for losing my temper as I did. I have never behaved so unprofessionally as I did this morning."

Kitty shrugged, the contrite shame in Kurt's large, blue eyes making her uncomfortable.

"Yeah, well, don't worry about it." She grinned wickedly. "I'm sure if you laid off the homework for a couple of days and, like, canceled Friday's quiz everyone would forgive you in an instant!"

Kurt chuckled.

"Although that is probably true, I am afraid I cannot do that. But, I was thinking of counting the extra homework I assigned this morning as a bonus quiz. You know, if you do well on this assignment I would count it in place of your lowest score. How does that sound to you?"

Kitty pretended to consider that for a moment, then broke out with a genuine smile.

"That could work too," she said.

As Kurt smiled back, Kitty stole a glance at his computer screen.

"So, like, what are you doing?" she asked.

Kurt turned back to his computer, looking rather embarrassed.

"I am searching for theater tickets," he told her.

"Need any help?" Kitty offered.

Kurt smiled at her, a small, appreciative grin.

"Ja, actually," he said. "I don't quite know what I'm doing. I have never really used the Internet before. I have watched others, but watching and doing are two different things."

Kitty scooted her chair closer to him and started tapping at his keyboard.

"It's really easy," she assured him. "Here, let me show you. You've started that typing class, right?"

"Ja, but all we have been doing is typing things like j-k-l-; and f-d-s-a over and over and over. It is very boring, you know."

Kitty laughed.

"Yeah, typing classes totally stink, but it's, like, a really good skill to have and everything. Now, what show did you want to see?"

Jamie watched from his place at the front of the room as Kitty and Kurt talked and laughed together just like always, satisfied his favorite teacher was finally starting to feel better.

"Hey, Jamie!" Ray greeted. "Some crowd in here today, huh? Wagner strike again, or what?"

Here we go again, Jamie thought to himself, and pulled up a new file on his monitor.

"Computer Five is free," he said, handing Ray a small, laminated card with the number '5' printed on it. "It's right there. Next to Mr. Wagner."

Ray looked like he'd just swallowed his tongue.

Jamie smiled.

"I already signed you in," he said unapologetically. "Sorry."

"Guten Tag, Ororo."

Kurt shook his head.

"Nein, too formal."

He took a breath and tried again.

"Hallo, Ororo, how are you this afternoon? I'm so sorry I gave you the cold shoulder last week. Perhaps this will warm you up?"

Kurt groaned and shifted his bulky package in his arms, quickening his pace as he strode down the long hall to Ororo Munroe's history classroom. The final class of the day would be letting out in a few minutes and Kurt wanted to catch her before she left for the meeting in the Professor's office.

"Very suave, Dummkopf," he berated himself. "What about, 'Hey, Liebchen, you wanna go out?'" He snorted. "Ja, that will work."

Kurt slapped his forehead and moaned miserably.

"Ach, she will never forgive me. I totally blew it, I know it! She came to me and, like an idiot, I pushed her away. I hurt her, and now she is angrier than ever."

His shoulders drooped, and he sighed. He had been feeling so confident just a few moments ago, his good spirits rejuvenated by the unexpected approach of nearly all of his students in the language lab, one after the other. They had been angry at first, understandably, but once he had apologized and talked with them for a short while, they had forgiven his odious behavior surprisingly quickly.

Earning the forgiveness of Ororo Munroe, though... That was an entirely different matter.

"This is stupid. She won't want to talk with me. What am I even doing here?"

Kurt's swelling self-doubt nearly had him ready to turn around, when the bell sounded, signaling the end of class. Hugging his fragile package to his chest, he pressed himself against the wall, gathering together whatever shreds remained of his courage as he waited for the main outpouring of students to rush past.

Ororo had her back turned to him when he stepped into her classroom. He swallowed nervously, but straightened his shoulders, performing possibly his bravest act to date. He cleared his throat, alerting Ororo to his presence.

"Erm," he started as Ororo turned to look at him, her sky blue eyes clouding when she saw who it was.

"Hello Kurt," she said, coldly. "Did you want something?"

"Erm," Kurt said again, feeling an embarrassingly deep flush rising in his face but completely unable to suppress it. She had taken up her 'goddess' pose; tall, imposing, and aloof.

Kurt refused to give in to intimidation.

"I wanted to apologize," he said. "For last week. And, for waiting so long before apologizing to you. And, for my atrocious behavior in the meantime, particularly with the students."

She just stared at him, her expression unreadable. Kurt felt a chill, but went on just the same.

"I don't expect you to forgive me," he said. "At least, not all at once. But I wanted you to know that I take full responsibility for any bad feelings my temper may have caused among the population of this school and I am working to remedy the situation."

Her stare didn't break. Kurt sighed, and gently placed his package on a nearby desk.

"Erm, this is for you," he said awkwardly. "You can use them as you wish, go with whomever you want. I'll just be going now. I'm sorry I disturbed you."

Slowly, Kurt made his way to the door, his shoes clacking softly against the hardwood floor. As he walked, his ears continued to strain for any sound that might suggest she was calling him back, that she wanted him to return to her.

His heart plummeted to the subbasement when no such sounds were forthcoming.

A slight shiver ran down his spine, and he swallowed, fiercely blinking back his burning tears.

Quickening his pace, Kurt straightened his shoulders and headed straight for the Professor's office. Mutant or not, he still had his duties to perform, and he wasn't about to let anyone else down.

Ororo stared alternately at the package on the desk, then at the empty doorway, her heart tight in her chest and her mind swirling with conflicting emotions.

He'd done it again, just as he had that time in the Blackbird shortly before the tragic events at Alkali Lake. Slowly, Ororo raised a hand to where he had brushed his thick, indigo finger against her cheek all those months ago, his deep, accented voice still ringing in her ears...

"Someone so beautiful should not be so angry..."

Just as he had that day, Kurt had managed to pierce through her defenses as if they didn't exist, his sincere, blue eyes taking her protective anger and turning it on its head, leaving her off balance and painfully exposed.

She'd had an entire speech prepared. She had been ready to chew him out royally, to really let him know how his behavior was affecting his friends.

But, his anguished expression, the way he flushed red right up to his hairline... These things tugged at her heart like nothing else, leaving her confused, frozen, and utterly speechless.

Her breathing slightly ragged, Ororo slowly stepped forward, carefully tearing the thin tissue paper from the package Kurt had left her, gasping softy as she revealed a careful arrangement of blooming bramble and lesser bindweed. He'd known she'd understand the meaning behind the wild, thorny bouquet. These flowers, culled from the grounds, were a gesture of humility and a gentle plea for forgiveness and, as Ororo tore away the last of the tissue paper, she found the whole thing bound with bittersweet for sincerity.

"Oh, Kurt," she whispered to herself. "You make it so hard for anyone to stay angry at you." A slight, affectionate smile tweaked her lips. "Even when you deserve it."

Carefully lifting the flowers, Ororo noticed an envelope tangled in the torn tissue paper. Opening it gently, Ororo's eyes widened, her small smile growing into an excited grin. Somehow, Kurt had managed to obtain two fifth row center tickets to the new Broadway production of Giuseppe Verdi's Egyptian opera, "Aida." They must have cost him a small fortune!

Rushing to the door, Ororo leaned out into the hallway, her long, white hair spilling across her shoulders.

"Kurt!" she called out, her voice echoing slightly in the long corridor.

But, he had already gone.

Kurt barely looked up when Ororo arrived at the meeting, nearly five minutes late. He knew that if he looked at her, if he saw that cold, emotionless expression on her face, nothing could stop him from breaking down. It was embarrassing enough putting up with the, admittedly lighthearted, teasing from the others when they saw him sit in a chair with his feet on the floor, rather than hopping up to crouch at the edge of the seat, as he'd done during the earliest days of his transformation. He didn't need to start crying in front of them too.

"So glad you could join us, Ororo," the Professor said from behind his desk.

"My apologies, Professor," she said, taking her seat.

Xavier's eyes flicked briefly from Ororo to Kurt, his brow furrowed slightly at the polarity of their emotional states. Clearly, there had been some kind of miscommunication somewhere. But, now was not the time to unravel the cause.

"Please, continue, Scott," he said.

Scott nodded curtly.

"As I was saying, there have been at least seven reported incidents of this nature so far and, as of yet, no one has any idea what could be causing them. The latest involves a narrowly averted traffic accident on the New Jersey Turnpike. Eyewitnesses claimed the two trucks involved actually duplicated themselves. One pair crashed - a very messy accident, possibly fatal. The second managed to miss each other. When those drivers rushed to approach the accident, the smashed-up trucks and injured drivers vanished without a trace: no debris, no tracks, no anything. Three 911 calls and about thirty eyewitness accounts are the only evidence the authorities have to indicate the accident even happened."

The Professor looked to the rest of his gathered X-Men.

"Although we have no conclusive evidence so far, it is possible a telepath could be behind all this," he told them somberly. "It is also probable that, if this telepath is powerful enough to cause mass illusions on this scale, he or she can also avoid detection by Cerebro. If a mutant is responsible, he or she will have to be found and stopped before the human population is roused to a panic. News broadcasts throughout the country are already blaming these occurrences on mutants. That's why we must act now."

"We'll be heading to the scene of the latest incident within the hour," Scott said. "The Professor will be joining us on this mission. Storm and I will pilot the X-Jet. Wolverine, you'll be our tracker. Stay on the alert for any unfamiliar scents or other clues that could lead to uncovering the identity of our mystery mutant."

Wolverine grunted.

"I know what to do, One-eye," he snarled. "Ya don't have ta spell it out for me."

Scott tightened his lips, then turned to Kurt.

"Kurt," he said.

Kurt looked up, his head tilted and his eyes narrowed slightly. Scott had called him Kurt, not Nightcrawler. But, Cyclops always used codenames when handing out assignments...

"It will be up to you to watch over the students while we're gone."

Kurt straightened, his eyes wide.

"Wa-was?!" he exclaimed. "But - but I—"

"This is probably the most important assignment of all, Kurt," Xavier tried to reassure him, leaning forward in his chair, his eyes understanding, yet stern. "The safety of the children and this mansion will be your responsibility."

"It ain't as easy as it sounds, bub," Wolverine spoke up, sympathizing with Kurt's reaction to being left behind. "Remember what happened last time they got me to do the babysittin'."

There was a collective murmur as everyone recalled the devastation left by Stryker's attack on the mansion some eight months ago.

Kurt sighed.

"I understand, Professor," he said softly. "Without my powers, I probably wouldn't have been much use to you anyway. You already have two excellent pilots. I would just be in the way."

"Kurt, you know that's not true," Cyclops said, a bit sharply. "We just thought that after what happened last time—"

"Ja. What happened last time."

Kurt set his jaw and rose to his feet, running his thumb over the fingers of his fist.

"Well, if it's all right with everyone, I'll be in the kitchen," he said with false brightness as he picked his way through the small crowd to the door. "With all of you going away, somebody has to see about dinner."

"Kurt," Ororo started, rising herself.

Kurt turned without really focusing his gaze on anyone in particular. He was smiling, but his expression was disturbingly blank.

"I'll see you all when you get back," he said as he left. "Good luck, everyone."

Ororo shook her head, heading for the door with every intention of going after him.

"Storm!" Scott called out.

Ororo spun on her heel, turning a fierce glare on their team leader.

"What?"

"You can talk to Kurt later, Ororo," Scott told her, a bit more gently this time. "Right now, we need you here."

"But we can't leave with Kurt like that! I have to—"

"You can sort things out with Kurt later," Xavier assured her. "Right now, though, this mission must take precedence. Kurt understands this, and I know you do as well."

Still scowling, Ororo returned to her chair, casting one last look at the door before turning her eyes back to the briefing. Her mind, though, remained fixed on Kurt's expression, and the ludicrously expensive theater tickets she still had to find a way to thank him for.

To Be Continued...