Part the Eighth: Oh Baby
[Author's Note: This is the chapter where a lot of people stop reading -
judging by the reviews. This chapter is a darkfic. Deal. Not all PWPs
*have* to be funny, folks. At least it has a happyish ending]
It was a dark and stormy early afternoon. Night wouldn't be falling
for some hours yet, and the weather beaureaux promised clear skies for
that evening. Kurt Wagner put the finishing touch on his detention essay
(Why, exactly, noodles were not funny), handed it in, and prepared for
the long walk home.
He hated rainy weather. The feel of cold rain against his fur wasn't
one of his favourite sensations. As for the way it made him *smell*...
the less said about that, the better. Kurt skirted along under the eaves
for as long as possible, keeping his holowatch safe in the confines of
his pocket.
The last thing he needed after the worst day this month was yet
another fritzing holowatch.
He almost didn't recognise the sound of a crying baby.
Who would be out with an infant in *this* weather? Kurt ran to see,
and found out that the baby was all on its own.
It was in a cardboard box, and wrapped up to keep it safe from the
weather.
It was also undeniably fuzzy.
Kurt blinked. _Relax. It isn't blue. You don't have a brand new
relative._ He knelt to pick the baby up. His experiences with three baby
sisters helping him more than a little.
No more than a couple of months old. Deliberately wrapped up to keep
it safe. Whoever belonged to her *had* intended to come back. A quick
unwrap-and-peek revealed that it was a girl, and she had a tail. She
also had all five fingers and apparently normal feet. She did *not* like
the cold. Kurt didn't blame her, and swaddled her anew.
She was too hungry to sleep, and too tired to cry properly.
Just like he was when *his* parents had found him.
He couldn't leave her here.
Kurt ripped a page out of a notebook and wrote a note for her mother,
in case she was returning for her daughter. He left it under a stone he
placed in the box, and held the crying little girl against his chest.
Kurt wrapped his overshirt around the tiny little bundle, and stopped
caring about how his holowatch fared against the rain.
"Hold on, kleine schwester," he whispered. "I'll get us some help." He
wrestled his backpack on and, hunching against the precipitation, headed
for the nearest public phone.
He had no idea if teleporting would harm her, and it was too far to
walk with a hungry child. Therefore, he had to phone for a lift.
The phone rang. It was a stranger, and an angry one at that. Charles
answered the phone with, "Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. May I
help you?"
There was the distinct hiss of a cellular phone. "Which one of you
sick *bastards* has my daughter? What have you *done* with her?"
"I'm - sorry?"
"Somebody took my baby girl," the female on the other end of the line
was hardly more than a girl, herself. She was barely stopping herself
from crying. "They left this note. It's got 'die, kleine mutter' on it."
"Uh, that's German, not a threat," said Xavier. "It means, 'the little
mother'." Charles sighed. He should have known Kurt would be in the
middle of some mess. He was late home. "I don't know anything about this
at all."
Sobbing. "Oh God, I thought it was a ransom note or something... My
poor little Natalie... Who took her? Do you know? Isn't there some
German kid that stays up there?"
"Yes. Kurt." Pipip. Someone was ringing on the other line. "He hasn't
come back, yet, but I suspect your baby is in good hands. He *does* have
younger sisters." Pipip. This time, with a clear thought. _Come on,
Katzchen. Get off the phone. I'm in a big pickle, here._ "Er. Someone's
trying to ring on the other line. It could be him. Do you mind holding?"
"*Please*. Go for it. I need to get my Natalie back."
Xavier switched lines. "Kurt... what have you *done*?"
"She was all alone, Professor. She's *starving*. And cold. I couldn't
just *leave* her. She needs to eat and - she's like me." A very clear
mental picture of a tawny, fuzzy little girl.
No *wonder* her mother was so worried. Xavier sighed. "I'll send Scott
to pick you up, and give her mother directions to the Institute. This is
going to be an *interesting* evening..."
"Dankeshoen!" Kurt hung up.
Xavier got back on to Natalie's mother. "That was Kurt. He has your
daughter and she's perfectly safe. He'll be bringing her here to the
institute."
Panic. "*NO*! You can't! Just tell me where he is. I'll get Natalie
from there. Please? It's - I'm just so worried about her."
She was a bad liar. She was afraid of what They would do if anyone saw
Natalie.
"You'd be surprised how understanding we can be, Christine," Xavier
soothed. "You don't have to worry about the safety of your baby, here.
Please. Come to the Institute. I can explain everything better in
person."
"How did you know my name?" said Christine.
"Come to the Institute, and I'll tell you."
Poor little girl. She was trying to suckle on his *shirt*.
"Not long, now, leibe," Kurt soothed. "Rescue's on it's way."
"Who the hell are you talking to?" demanded Scott.
Rescue had evidently snuck up behind him while he was absorbed with
the baby. Obviously, he'd just been told to pick Kurt up, and hadn't
been told why.
Kurt grinned. Scott was probably going to go bezerk. "Oh, just a
little bundle of big trouble," he said, and eased aside his overshirt so
Scott could see.
"HOLY *CRAP*!"
"Wwwaaaaaaaahhhh..."
"Shh-shh-shh-shh..." Kurt gently stroked her head. "There now. It was
only a loud noise. Scott means well, he does. Hush now, Shhh..."
"Kurt, where the hell did you pick that up?" Scott unfurled an
umbrella and guided them both to the van.
"She's a 'she', not a 'that'. Unless you think of me as a 'that', too?"
Scott winced. "Sorry."
Kurt strapped himself in, and waited until Scott was in the driver's
seat before saying, "Drive carefully, man. We don't exactly have a baby
bubble for her."
Scott was busy pushing buttons, and surprised Kurt with an emerging
child safe restraint. "Professor Xavier prides himself in having one of
*everything*."
"Sehr gut," Kurt sighed, unwrapping the baby enough so that she could
be buckled in. "There we go, kleine schwester. I know it isn't comfy for
your tail, but it's only a couple of minutes and then we can see your
Mama again. Won't that be nice?"
"Dude, she can't understand a word."
Kurt snorted. "Shows what *you* know about babies. Talking to them
teaches them *how* to understand, right, leibe?"
The baby cooed, but only a little.
"Ach, she's starving. Poor little sister."
Scott snorted as he began driving. Then he made the mistake of
sniffing. "What's that *smell*?"
Kurt sighed. "Either my fur or her diaper. I can't exactly tell from
here. Probably both."
"...gyuh..." said Scott, opening his window a crack.
Christine ran all the way from her car to the people waiting for her
in the lobby. There was no sign of Natalie. The man from the phone call
said she'd be here.
"Ah, Christine," said a man in a wheelchair. He was the one who
answered the phone. "Kurt came in with Natalie a few minutes ago."
"Where is she, is she alright? What are you going to do to her? Where
*is* she?"
"I'm Professor Xavier," said Xavier. "Your daughter is going to be
fine. If you'll follow me?"
This place was huge. Christine shivered, wondering what sort of things
were happening to her little girl. There were other kids, some she knew
by name, and others by reputation, and a very few adults. Waitaminute.
Did she just pass a bunch of identical quintuplets?
Xavier was explaining how sometimes, people were born a little
different to everyone else. Duh. Christine *knew* that part. The part
she *didn't* know was that that difference in an individual's genetic
makeup could have some interesting results. It was when he dropped the
phrase, 'mutant power' that the conversation got increasingly wierd.
Some girl down the hall just turned into a *wolf*.
"As I said, Christine, you'd be surprised how understanding we can
be."
There was a voice, just around the corner, and the accent was from
Germany. "...and that's how you fold a diaper for someone with a tail.
Is the bottle warm enough, yet? Poor Kind, she needs to eat."
Christine heard Natalie cry. She sounded so weak. "*Natalie*!" She
broke into a run. Her baby girl needed her.
The German kid was sitting on a bed, Natalie tucked securely in the
crook of an arm, and a bottle held in his other hand. "Gekommen, leibe,
you need to eat. Take the bottle, now. Come on."
Natalie was fighting him, crying all the time.
"Please, kleine schwester. Please..."
"Oh, Natalie," Christine bolted for her child. "Oh, baby. It's
alright. Mommy's here." She began unfastening her top. All this time,
she hadn't cared about her overfull, aching breasts or how wet she was
or how badly she'd leaked. She'd just been worried about her daughter.
The German kid blushed right up to his scalp and resolutely shut his
eyes. "*Oh*," he said. "No wonder she didn't want a bottle. Should I
fetch you a scarf? A warm blanket? You looked cold."
"Just gimmie Natalie," Christine took her baby from his arms. Natalie
latched on in a cold second and practically passed out on the first gulp
of milk. It was such a relief to have her back.
The German kid bolted from the bed as if it had bitten him. "Here.
Sit. Make yourself comfortable. You're sure you don't want anything?"
"I want *out* of this madhouse, you kidnapper."
"I couldn't leave her there," he said. "I had no way of knowing if you
were going to come back for her. Or... if you *wanted* to."
There was something in his tone that made her sit, even though she was
still on her guard. The way her diaper was fixed looked - professional.
As if he'd had plenty of practice, and knew what to do about the tail.
It had taken her a few days to figure things out properly, and there
were improvements in this one that she'd only been thinking about.
The German kid, still avoiding looking directly at Natalie or her food
source, bought a warm blanket anyway. It was like he couldn't help
himself. "I'm guessing you want to know how I knew to fix the diaper,"
he said.
"Sort of," said Christine. "What I *want* to know is why nobody's
kicking up an almighty stink about a fuzzy baby with a tail."
"Well, that's the thing," the German started playing with his hands.
"You've probably already guessed that the Institute's a place for
Mutants?"
"Duh."
"Well... some of us are - more mutant than others. I... wear a
hologram so that people - don't react. You see. I'm also fuzzy. And I
also have a tail. That's kind of where the similarities between me and
your daughter end, though. She's - luckier than I am." He touched his
watch, and the image of normalicy faded away.
"Jesus H Christ," whispered Christine.
"My name is Kurt Wagner," said the blue demon in soggy street clothes.
"Despite how I look, I'm still human. Just like your little girl."
Xavier had mentioned sisters. "Your -uh- family, are they - um..."
"I'm adopted, so 'no'." He smiled. "Your little Natalie at least gets
to know her birth-Mama loves her. Does she know her Papa?"
Cold. "I was raped."
"Ouch. Sorry." He sighed. "I'm going to put my foot in my mouth again,
but - do you have any help at all at home?"
She glared at him. The less said about her deadbeat dad and her
absentee mom the better.
"I'll take that as a 'no' and try to keep my big blue mouth shut," he
said. "There will always be help here, whenever you want it."
Xavier, who had caught up and just been in the background, nodded.
"Can't exactly give her a big-ass sports watch, can you?"
"No, it'd look all wrong, and I think she'd shake it off in a few
minutes. Maybe we can come up with some 'soft circuits' and hide the
whole deal in little jumpsuits for her? Though washing is going to be a
problem... maybe we could ask Forge? He likes a challenge."
"Kurt," Xavier chided. "Christine hasn't even decided if she *wants*
our help, yet. Just because she has a mutant child--"
"Second generation mutant child," Kurt corrected. "I put some of her
shed fur through the gene analyser while Storm was off getting the
formula. Both of Natalie's parents are mutants, too."
Now *there* was a bombshell. If Christine hadn't been hanging on to
Natalie, she might have fainted. But - nothing really wierd had
happened.
Unless she excluded how, halfway through the rape, the gang had just
blankly walked away as if hypnotised. Or, when Natalie was born, how
Daddy had not said a *thing*. Or how nobody at all ever looked at her
when she was scurrying to get Natalie from one place to another.
It wasn't always that way. Sometimes it backfired, and things got
worse, but the really *important* things, life-and-death stuff, that
always came out right. And it always kind of wiped her out.
_Oh God. I spent half of detention today praying like mad for Natalie
to be okay. Did I *make* this happen?_
"We'll have to see," said Xavier. "Since you haven't consciously used
your powers, Cerebro wasn't able to pick you up as more than a blip on
the scanners. If I'd have known, I would have helped."
"He reads thoughts, doesn't he?" Christine asked Kurt.
"Amongst other things, ja. You get *nearly* used to it after a while."
"Okay, focus," said the one called Logan. "You *really* need a six.
It's vastly important to you that you get a six. Lives depend on it."
Natalie was using the tip-end of Kurt's tail as a pacifier, and Kurt
was cooing at her in German. Odd how hands like those could be perfectly
safe. He called her 'little sister', because *all* small baby girls in
his world *were* his little sisters. Just because this one wasn't even
remotely related to him didn't count.
Christine sighed, forcing her mind off of the background and onto the
business at hand. She tried to think up the levels of terror associated
with the tiny miracles that had happened the way she wanted them to. The
need for Logan to roll a six slowly overwhelmed her mind.
Logan went blank and dropped the dice.
It stopped with six spots showing.
Logan shook himself. "Okay... I guess you can also influence people as
well as odds."
Hank was poring over the readouts. "Hmmm, definite activity, but the
activation of her mutant power is still forced, as opposed to
instinctual."
"Hey, some people develop at different rates," said Kurt. His tail was
free. Natalie was asleep in his arms. "Some powers are harder to
master."
_Said the master of his own destiny,_ Christine thought at him. He'd
been teleporting since he was thirteen, controlling it consciously since
fourteen. And, she had to admit, getting increasingly frightened about
it. She could see it, sometimes. When he was grooming his hair, pressing
the bangs back against his head, he was secretly scoping out his temples
for the first sign of horns.
*He* had no illusions, well, except perhaps thinking he was God's gift
to women, but that was just bravado and covering fire. He could really
get to the core of people, explain them in ways they couldn't articulate
themselves.
He'd realised about her family in less than a handful of seconds. He
*knew*, and she knew he knew because he'd come by and asked if she
wanted to talk about it; but he didn't tell. Kurt could somehow work out
what made a person tick, and wheedle his way into becoming one of the
metaphorical gears.
Why someone who was born looking like that would work so hard to be
likeable was beyond her. If she'd looked like him, she'd be telling the
entire world to fuck off and let her die.
_Please don't let my Natalie grow up like that,_ she thought.
"Christine? What do you think?"
"Hmm? Sorry, my mind was elsewhere."
Hank sighed. "We were discussing the option of augmentation; bringing
out your power artificially. One side of the argument is that you'll be
able to gain control faster, and be adept at using it more quickly. The
other side is that that speed may come with any number of prices."
"Could wish everybody dead in a bad mood," rumbled Logan. "Who knows.
You could make it happen."
"On the other hand, you could just let it slide," said Kurt, who was
keeping his voice low, lest he wake the baby. "Gain whatever control
you're meant to have naturally."
"She's a little empath," Kurt said. Christine had asked why he had
such a knack with her. "I don't know why she needs it. Maybe your power
woke hers up; maybe she has something else in store for us, and needs to
get used to her empathy, now. Either way, she knows what a person's
feeling. All I do is focus on being calm."
"How did you work this out?"
"You won't believe me."
"I'm sitting in a house full of mutants, talking to a guy who looks
like a demon. I'm apt to believe anything at this point."
"I think," said Kurt. "I think she told me."
Sadness filled her. "She never told *me* anything."
"It's not a verbal thing. She doesn't know words, yet. What she knows
is feelings," Kurt gently turned her on her side and brushed her back.
Natalie cooed and tried to laugh. "While she feels mine, she can also
project hers. It's very limited. She can't reach anyone who isn't
touching her. Here." He put Natalie in her arms and pressed the antique
brush into her free hand. "Run this down her back and tell me what she
says to you."
Christine tried. There were waves of satisfied comfort, washing gently
over her with each brush-stroke. "It's like a little massage, isn't it?"
she asked her daughter.
Natalie grinned at her and burped.
Kitty grinned. At last. She was beginning to think no-one would let
her near the baby. Natalie *was* very cute and was actually awake
without wanting to make a fuss.
"Hey there, sweetie," Kitty whispered. "Want to play with Aunty
Kitty?"
Natalie grinned and gurgled.
"Yeah!" Kitty cooed. "You come with me. We'll have us some fun." She
picked Natalie up in a hug. "C'mon. I'll show you around."
Natalie was having fun, of a sort. There were all sorts of new things
to see, and funny funny people and, most importantly, long hair to grab
handfuls of and tug.
"Ow... I swear you're like, doing that on purpose."
Natalie gurgled at her. Didn't she understand it was fun?
"Ooooohhhh... *Baby*..." A different person cooed. "Hello sweetie-pie.
Hello, cutie. Can I hold her?"
Oh! New person! Natalie wriggled and grinned.
"Sure. My arms were like, getting *so* tired." Both girls worked on
transferring Natalie across. "Ow. Leggo my hair, stinkypants."
"Heeeee!" said Natalie. This one had nice long hair, too. It felt -
different. Natalie grabbed a generous handful.
"*Ow*. Knows how to grab, doesn't she?"
"Come on, munchkin. Let go of Aunty Jubes' hair. She'd really *like*
to straighten up."
"Heeeee!"
"Amara. You want to help?"
"No. She'll throw up on me."
Mmmm... some food would be nice around now.
"Ew! She's sucking on my *hair*."
"Maybe I should like, put her back... Christine is like, *mega*
posessive."
"Christine doesn't like, actually mind."
MOMMY! Natalie turned to find her.
"*OW*. Leggo my *hair*..."
"AuhhhuaaaAAAAA*AAAAA*!" Natalie squealed. Come here, Mommy! I'm
waiting and hungry...
"Loud, much?"
"C'mere, sweetie," Mommy said, getting the hair out of Natalie's fist.
"Time you had some lunch."
YES!
"You're not bent out of shape about us like, borrowing her?"
"A little, but Kurt says that meeting people is educational;
therefore, I am trying not to stress."
Kitty watched the mother and daughter go. "Kurt says that meeting
people is educational," she mocked. "Since when did *he* become an
authority on like, *anything*?"
"He *does* have three sisters who are all younger than him," said
Rogue.
"Who asked you? All she can talk about is Natalie and Kurt. Kurt and
Natalie. Preferably in like, the same breath. Why don't they just get a
room?"
"Ooooohh... jealous."
"Shut up, Jubes. I am *not* jealous of *her*."
"Oh, yes you *are*."
"Am *not*."
"Are too."
"Not."
"Too."
"Not."
"Too."
"Not."
"Too."
"Not."
"You are and I can prove it." Jubes grinned. "Ever since she came
around, a certain lovesick fuzzboy has been out of the picture."
"Well, FYI? I happen to be *glad*," said Kitty. "He isn't coming
between me and Lance."
"The Lance who's co-incidentally out of town right now?"
"Shut up."
"The Lance who hasn't called, even though he said he would?"
"Shut *up*."
"The Lance who went *out* of town with a certain blonde bombshell
named Tabitha?"
"That's it! You're totally gonna die!"
Kurt strode away from Cerebro with the results. Then he strode right
back again. He had to tell. He couldn't tell. People had a right to
know. Hearts were going to be broken about this.
He could tear the piece of paper up, consign it to the flames of the
fireplace of his choice, and everyone would carry on as normal. Except
for him, because he'd seen it. Would the knowledge gnaw away at him
until he snapped?
Could he ever look at people the same way?
What to do. What to do.
He had to do *something*. Kurt could feel it in his bones. But what if
that something ruined everything.
Kurt had actually thought Lance had a redeeming feature or two before
he saw this. He was even going to try and patch up some kind of
relationship, instead of entering into a rivalry. His stupid fault for
wanting to make friends rather than keep enemies.
Even if he *didn't* know the truth, the facts would still be there.
Someone would find them out eventually.
Someone would have found out that Lance was definitely one of the
rapists, because Natalie was undoubtedly his daughter.
Which meant that every time Kitty decided to go out with him, she was
putting herself at risk.
Lance wasn't exactly the fatherly type. Or, more correctly, the
*responsible* type. Kurt could only imagine what would happen if he
found out about his baby girl. Turning into a Golden Parent was probably
the least likely event.
Ignorance, at least in Kitty's case, was not bliss. It was danger.
Christine either knew, or didn't want to know. His repeated attempts
to get her to talk her trouble out were shot down by her patented glare-
of-doom. Knowing wouldn't change her mind about anything or anyone. It
may even wake up her power in exactly the wrong way.
Why did *he* have to be the one who was sitting on a powderkeg?
"Kurt? What are you doing in here?"
Kurt anguished even more. He should be able to unburden himself to
Professor Xavier, but Xavier was prone to keep dangerous secrets like
this under wraps. "I was just - checking on something." He was also good
at winkling secrets out of people - whether they liked it or not. Kurt
sighed. Truth or Dare. He handed over the results. "I found out who
Natalie's father is."
Xavier looked at the paper. "Oh. Yes. I can see why you're so
concerned about this."
"What's the right thing to do?" Kurt pleaded. "We have to do
*something*... but what's *right*?"
"Kitty could be hurt if we kept this a secret."
"She's going to be hurt, no matter what," Kurt sighed. "She really
does like him." _She lights up for him in ways I can't even get near.
Even when I try my best... maybe I should just settle for whatever I can
get._ "And I don't want to hurt her."
"Perhaps there's another way..."
Kurt could only pick up a fragment of the conversation as Lance's SUV
pulled up.
"Relax, I'll make it quick. Prissy little preppy wasn't going to put
out anytime soon, anyway. It's completely her fault. I figure, if she
doesn't change her mind, we're set."
_Lance, you really *aren't* a charmer. And I was starting to like you
after you made an effort to be near her._
"Love a win-win situation," Lance muttered as he skipped up the steps.
"What are *you* doing out here, Freakshow?"
Kurt let the obnoxious nickname bounce off for a change. "Nothing
much. Thought you might like to know your *daughter* is living here,
now."
He stopped so hard he almost screeched to a halt. "What the hell are
you talking about?"
"I think you know, Lance. I think you remember a certain night -
nearly a year ago? Even if you can't explain what happened, I bet you
remember it. I bet you remember Christine."
"Who?"
"Oh. Of course. Rapists don't bother taking down names. They just
take. How silly of me to forget."
"There's no way anyone can prove anything, Freakshow. So just shut up
before I shake you down."
"You'll pass a paternity test, Lance. You already *have*. Now; either
you tell Katzchen the truth - or I will."
"Empty threat, fleabag. You wouldn't do nothing."
Kitty phased through the door. "Honestly. Are you guys like, squaring
off *again*? Get a clue, Kurt. I like, totally *don't* want to go out
with you."
"For once, leibe, this isn't about mein feelings for you. Tell her,
Lance. Maybe it'll help you out, in the long run."
"Shut up flea-brain. I don't have to say nothin'."
{BeepBEEEEEEEP!} "Hurry *up*, Mudslide!"
"Isn't that like, Tabitha?"
"Truth or dare, Lance," said Kurt. "I have all the proof anyone needs
right here." He patted his pocket.
"Kitty... I think we should see other people. You know, it could
strengthen our relationship and junk," Lance began. "Help us grow up.
Stuff like that."
"If you're gonna like, dump me, then at least like, tell the *truth*."
Lance sighed. "It's just that I'm more grown up than you. I have -
needs."
"And a daughter."
"SHUT UP, FLEABAG!"
"La-a-a-ance!"
"In a frikkin' *minute*! Keep yer shirt on for a change!" He turned
his smile on again. "You see, Kitty--"
"Oh, I see alright. I see you're still a *jerk*! I should have like,
got a clue when you tried to *kill* me!"
"That was an accident!"
Kurt snorted. "Was Natalie an 'accident' too?"
"You and Christine?" said Kitty. "Were you an item?"
"Worse, Katzchen," said Kurt. "And this is Lance's last chance to tell
you how worse."
"Stuck up bitch deserved everything she got," Lance said. "Thought she
was too good for anyone, the frigid whore. So what if we warmed her up a
bit? She was *begging* for it."
"Begging for it to *stop*, maybe," said Kurt. "Begging for it to be
over so you would go away."
"That does it, Freak. You're going down." He concentrated. The Earth
began to move.
Kurt only knew of one good way to interrupt someone's concentration.
He leaped onto Lance and teleported. Over the years, he'd perfected a
few stunts with his power that he rarely used when carrying passengers.
The maneuvre he called 'touch and go', for example, made any passenger
as sick as a dog simply because he could not take the brunt of the force
of the journey. He was only in the physical world for a second, at most,
before he teleported elsewhere.
{Bamf! Bamf! Bamf! Bamf!} He dropped Lance into the SUV for good
measure, and teleported back to his place by the door. Four touch-and-
goes were his limit, no matter what distance he travelled. Dizzyness and
nausea swept over him as he tried to catch his breath.
At least no-one was in immediate danger.
Lance was noisily sick in the driveway.
Kurt felt like joining him, but only for a moment. Terribly bad form,
being ill in front of your Lady. Collapsing was mildly okay, but not a
preferred option if the foe was still in the vicinity. He should make
himself get up. He should check that Kitty was okay. He should see if
anyone else was hurt.
_Oh dear. The baby... Professor?_
_We're all fine. Just a little frightened. Nothing more._
Tabby fired up the SUV, with Lance still heaving over a door. She was
*not* in a good mood. Her hand glowed.
"Katzchen? Schnell. She's going to throw one."
He felt Kitty's hands on him even as he watched the biggest energy-
ball Boom Boom had ever made arc towards them.
He felt the blast go right through him, and shuddered at the feel of
the glass falling through his body. _There goes another front door..._
The SUV roared away into the distance.
"I'm still not going out with you," Kitty said.
"Fein, leibe," Kurt managed. "You need time to get over him. I don't
think I'd have felt right in a rebound relationship anyway."
A moment of silence as the very last piece of rubble bounced to a
halt.
"I didn't know you could like, use your power as a weapon."
"It hadn't quite occurred to me, either."
"Did it hurt?"
"I'll be fine." He made to get up, only to discover that his legs
didn't want to work. "In an hour or two."
"Ewf! Ewf!"
"Katzchen! Come here! Natalie's trying to talk!"
"Ewf!"
Kurt was grinning fit to burst. "She's saying 'elf'. I'm her first
word! Dieses ist fantastisch... Say it again, kleine schwester..."
Natalie grinned and dribbled as she wriggled along the floor. She was
making her way in Kurt's general direction and saying, "Ewf!"
"See, leibe? I'm her first word. I'm never going to forget today!"
Natalie wriggled past him and glomped on to Rahne's lupine tail. "Ewf!
Ewf! Ewf! Ewf!"
Kurt sighed, deflating. "Not that I won't try to."
Kitty burst out laughing and gave Kurt a sympathetic hug. "Thank you
for playing," she said. "Maybe next time."
"Oh, a hug from meine leibe. I'm in heaven..."
Kitty snorted. "Like, get *over* yourself?"
Christine had to smile. So it was a twisted family, with a dozen Aunts
and Uncles and no Daddy in sight, but it was a good one. Daddies, as
well she knew, weren't everything anyway. Natalie would easily learn
about the right kind of love here.
And, eventually, so could she.
[Author's Note: This is the chapter where a lot of people stop reading -
judging by the reviews. This chapter is a darkfic. Deal. Not all PWPs
*have* to be funny, folks. At least it has a happyish ending]
It was a dark and stormy early afternoon. Night wouldn't be falling
for some hours yet, and the weather beaureaux promised clear skies for
that evening. Kurt Wagner put the finishing touch on his detention essay
(Why, exactly, noodles were not funny), handed it in, and prepared for
the long walk home.
He hated rainy weather. The feel of cold rain against his fur wasn't
one of his favourite sensations. As for the way it made him *smell*...
the less said about that, the better. Kurt skirted along under the eaves
for as long as possible, keeping his holowatch safe in the confines of
his pocket.
The last thing he needed after the worst day this month was yet
another fritzing holowatch.
He almost didn't recognise the sound of a crying baby.
Who would be out with an infant in *this* weather? Kurt ran to see,
and found out that the baby was all on its own.
It was in a cardboard box, and wrapped up to keep it safe from the
weather.
It was also undeniably fuzzy.
Kurt blinked. _Relax. It isn't blue. You don't have a brand new
relative._ He knelt to pick the baby up. His experiences with three baby
sisters helping him more than a little.
No more than a couple of months old. Deliberately wrapped up to keep
it safe. Whoever belonged to her *had* intended to come back. A quick
unwrap-and-peek revealed that it was a girl, and she had a tail. She
also had all five fingers and apparently normal feet. She did *not* like
the cold. Kurt didn't blame her, and swaddled her anew.
She was too hungry to sleep, and too tired to cry properly.
Just like he was when *his* parents had found him.
He couldn't leave her here.
Kurt ripped a page out of a notebook and wrote a note for her mother,
in case she was returning for her daughter. He left it under a stone he
placed in the box, and held the crying little girl against his chest.
Kurt wrapped his overshirt around the tiny little bundle, and stopped
caring about how his holowatch fared against the rain.
"Hold on, kleine schwester," he whispered. "I'll get us some help." He
wrestled his backpack on and, hunching against the precipitation, headed
for the nearest public phone.
He had no idea if teleporting would harm her, and it was too far to
walk with a hungry child. Therefore, he had to phone for a lift.
The phone rang. It was a stranger, and an angry one at that. Charles
answered the phone with, "Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. May I
help you?"
There was the distinct hiss of a cellular phone. "Which one of you
sick *bastards* has my daughter? What have you *done* with her?"
"I'm - sorry?"
"Somebody took my baby girl," the female on the other end of the line
was hardly more than a girl, herself. She was barely stopping herself
from crying. "They left this note. It's got 'die, kleine mutter' on it."
"Uh, that's German, not a threat," said Xavier. "It means, 'the little
mother'." Charles sighed. He should have known Kurt would be in the
middle of some mess. He was late home. "I don't know anything about this
at all."
Sobbing. "Oh God, I thought it was a ransom note or something... My
poor little Natalie... Who took her? Do you know? Isn't there some
German kid that stays up there?"
"Yes. Kurt." Pipip. Someone was ringing on the other line. "He hasn't
come back, yet, but I suspect your baby is in good hands. He *does* have
younger sisters." Pipip. This time, with a clear thought. _Come on,
Katzchen. Get off the phone. I'm in a big pickle, here._ "Er. Someone's
trying to ring on the other line. It could be him. Do you mind holding?"
"*Please*. Go for it. I need to get my Natalie back."
Xavier switched lines. "Kurt... what have you *done*?"
"She was all alone, Professor. She's *starving*. And cold. I couldn't
just *leave* her. She needs to eat and - she's like me." A very clear
mental picture of a tawny, fuzzy little girl.
No *wonder* her mother was so worried. Xavier sighed. "I'll send Scott
to pick you up, and give her mother directions to the Institute. This is
going to be an *interesting* evening..."
"Dankeshoen!" Kurt hung up.
Xavier got back on to Natalie's mother. "That was Kurt. He has your
daughter and she's perfectly safe. He'll be bringing her here to the
institute."
Panic. "*NO*! You can't! Just tell me where he is. I'll get Natalie
from there. Please? It's - I'm just so worried about her."
She was a bad liar. She was afraid of what They would do if anyone saw
Natalie.
"You'd be surprised how understanding we can be, Christine," Xavier
soothed. "You don't have to worry about the safety of your baby, here.
Please. Come to the Institute. I can explain everything better in
person."
"How did you know my name?" said Christine.
"Come to the Institute, and I'll tell you."
Poor little girl. She was trying to suckle on his *shirt*.
"Not long, now, leibe," Kurt soothed. "Rescue's on it's way."
"Who the hell are you talking to?" demanded Scott.
Rescue had evidently snuck up behind him while he was absorbed with
the baby. Obviously, he'd just been told to pick Kurt up, and hadn't
been told why.
Kurt grinned. Scott was probably going to go bezerk. "Oh, just a
little bundle of big trouble," he said, and eased aside his overshirt so
Scott could see.
"HOLY *CRAP*!"
"Wwwaaaaaaaahhhh..."
"Shh-shh-shh-shh..." Kurt gently stroked her head. "There now. It was
only a loud noise. Scott means well, he does. Hush now, Shhh..."
"Kurt, where the hell did you pick that up?" Scott unfurled an
umbrella and guided them both to the van.
"She's a 'she', not a 'that'. Unless you think of me as a 'that', too?"
Scott winced. "Sorry."
Kurt strapped himself in, and waited until Scott was in the driver's
seat before saying, "Drive carefully, man. We don't exactly have a baby
bubble for her."
Scott was busy pushing buttons, and surprised Kurt with an emerging
child safe restraint. "Professor Xavier prides himself in having one of
*everything*."
"Sehr gut," Kurt sighed, unwrapping the baby enough so that she could
be buckled in. "There we go, kleine schwester. I know it isn't comfy for
your tail, but it's only a couple of minutes and then we can see your
Mama again. Won't that be nice?"
"Dude, she can't understand a word."
Kurt snorted. "Shows what *you* know about babies. Talking to them
teaches them *how* to understand, right, leibe?"
The baby cooed, but only a little.
"Ach, she's starving. Poor little sister."
Scott snorted as he began driving. Then he made the mistake of
sniffing. "What's that *smell*?"
Kurt sighed. "Either my fur or her diaper. I can't exactly tell from
here. Probably both."
"...gyuh..." said Scott, opening his window a crack.
Christine ran all the way from her car to the people waiting for her
in the lobby. There was no sign of Natalie. The man from the phone call
said she'd be here.
"Ah, Christine," said a man in a wheelchair. He was the one who
answered the phone. "Kurt came in with Natalie a few minutes ago."
"Where is she, is she alright? What are you going to do to her? Where
*is* she?"
"I'm Professor Xavier," said Xavier. "Your daughter is going to be
fine. If you'll follow me?"
This place was huge. Christine shivered, wondering what sort of things
were happening to her little girl. There were other kids, some she knew
by name, and others by reputation, and a very few adults. Waitaminute.
Did she just pass a bunch of identical quintuplets?
Xavier was explaining how sometimes, people were born a little
different to everyone else. Duh. Christine *knew* that part. The part
she *didn't* know was that that difference in an individual's genetic
makeup could have some interesting results. It was when he dropped the
phrase, 'mutant power' that the conversation got increasingly wierd.
Some girl down the hall just turned into a *wolf*.
"As I said, Christine, you'd be surprised how understanding we can
be."
There was a voice, just around the corner, and the accent was from
Germany. "...and that's how you fold a diaper for someone with a tail.
Is the bottle warm enough, yet? Poor Kind, she needs to eat."
Christine heard Natalie cry. She sounded so weak. "*Natalie*!" She
broke into a run. Her baby girl needed her.
The German kid was sitting on a bed, Natalie tucked securely in the
crook of an arm, and a bottle held in his other hand. "Gekommen, leibe,
you need to eat. Take the bottle, now. Come on."
Natalie was fighting him, crying all the time.
"Please, kleine schwester. Please..."
"Oh, Natalie," Christine bolted for her child. "Oh, baby. It's
alright. Mommy's here." She began unfastening her top. All this time,
she hadn't cared about her overfull, aching breasts or how wet she was
or how badly she'd leaked. She'd just been worried about her daughter.
The German kid blushed right up to his scalp and resolutely shut his
eyes. "*Oh*," he said. "No wonder she didn't want a bottle. Should I
fetch you a scarf? A warm blanket? You looked cold."
"Just gimmie Natalie," Christine took her baby from his arms. Natalie
latched on in a cold second and practically passed out on the first gulp
of milk. It was such a relief to have her back.
The German kid bolted from the bed as if it had bitten him. "Here.
Sit. Make yourself comfortable. You're sure you don't want anything?"
"I want *out* of this madhouse, you kidnapper."
"I couldn't leave her there," he said. "I had no way of knowing if you
were going to come back for her. Or... if you *wanted* to."
There was something in his tone that made her sit, even though she was
still on her guard. The way her diaper was fixed looked - professional.
As if he'd had plenty of practice, and knew what to do about the tail.
It had taken her a few days to figure things out properly, and there
were improvements in this one that she'd only been thinking about.
The German kid, still avoiding looking directly at Natalie or her food
source, bought a warm blanket anyway. It was like he couldn't help
himself. "I'm guessing you want to know how I knew to fix the diaper,"
he said.
"Sort of," said Christine. "What I *want* to know is why nobody's
kicking up an almighty stink about a fuzzy baby with a tail."
"Well, that's the thing," the German started playing with his hands.
"You've probably already guessed that the Institute's a place for
Mutants?"
"Duh."
"Well... some of us are - more mutant than others. I... wear a
hologram so that people - don't react. You see. I'm also fuzzy. And I
also have a tail. That's kind of where the similarities between me and
your daughter end, though. She's - luckier than I am." He touched his
watch, and the image of normalicy faded away.
"Jesus H Christ," whispered Christine.
"My name is Kurt Wagner," said the blue demon in soggy street clothes.
"Despite how I look, I'm still human. Just like your little girl."
Xavier had mentioned sisters. "Your -uh- family, are they - um..."
"I'm adopted, so 'no'." He smiled. "Your little Natalie at least gets
to know her birth-Mama loves her. Does she know her Papa?"
Cold. "I was raped."
"Ouch. Sorry." He sighed. "I'm going to put my foot in my mouth again,
but - do you have any help at all at home?"
She glared at him. The less said about her deadbeat dad and her
absentee mom the better.
"I'll take that as a 'no' and try to keep my big blue mouth shut," he
said. "There will always be help here, whenever you want it."
Xavier, who had caught up and just been in the background, nodded.
"Can't exactly give her a big-ass sports watch, can you?"
"No, it'd look all wrong, and I think she'd shake it off in a few
minutes. Maybe we can come up with some 'soft circuits' and hide the
whole deal in little jumpsuits for her? Though washing is going to be a
problem... maybe we could ask Forge? He likes a challenge."
"Kurt," Xavier chided. "Christine hasn't even decided if she *wants*
our help, yet. Just because she has a mutant child--"
"Second generation mutant child," Kurt corrected. "I put some of her
shed fur through the gene analyser while Storm was off getting the
formula. Both of Natalie's parents are mutants, too."
Now *there* was a bombshell. If Christine hadn't been hanging on to
Natalie, she might have fainted. But - nothing really wierd had
happened.
Unless she excluded how, halfway through the rape, the gang had just
blankly walked away as if hypnotised. Or, when Natalie was born, how
Daddy had not said a *thing*. Or how nobody at all ever looked at her
when she was scurrying to get Natalie from one place to another.
It wasn't always that way. Sometimes it backfired, and things got
worse, but the really *important* things, life-and-death stuff, that
always came out right. And it always kind of wiped her out.
_Oh God. I spent half of detention today praying like mad for Natalie
to be okay. Did I *make* this happen?_
"We'll have to see," said Xavier. "Since you haven't consciously used
your powers, Cerebro wasn't able to pick you up as more than a blip on
the scanners. If I'd have known, I would have helped."
"He reads thoughts, doesn't he?" Christine asked Kurt.
"Amongst other things, ja. You get *nearly* used to it after a while."
"Okay, focus," said the one called Logan. "You *really* need a six.
It's vastly important to you that you get a six. Lives depend on it."
Natalie was using the tip-end of Kurt's tail as a pacifier, and Kurt
was cooing at her in German. Odd how hands like those could be perfectly
safe. He called her 'little sister', because *all* small baby girls in
his world *were* his little sisters. Just because this one wasn't even
remotely related to him didn't count.
Christine sighed, forcing her mind off of the background and onto the
business at hand. She tried to think up the levels of terror associated
with the tiny miracles that had happened the way she wanted them to. The
need for Logan to roll a six slowly overwhelmed her mind.
Logan went blank and dropped the dice.
It stopped with six spots showing.
Logan shook himself. "Okay... I guess you can also influence people as
well as odds."
Hank was poring over the readouts. "Hmmm, definite activity, but the
activation of her mutant power is still forced, as opposed to
instinctual."
"Hey, some people develop at different rates," said Kurt. His tail was
free. Natalie was asleep in his arms. "Some powers are harder to
master."
_Said the master of his own destiny,_ Christine thought at him. He'd
been teleporting since he was thirteen, controlling it consciously since
fourteen. And, she had to admit, getting increasingly frightened about
it. She could see it, sometimes. When he was grooming his hair, pressing
the bangs back against his head, he was secretly scoping out his temples
for the first sign of horns.
*He* had no illusions, well, except perhaps thinking he was God's gift
to women, but that was just bravado and covering fire. He could really
get to the core of people, explain them in ways they couldn't articulate
themselves.
He'd realised about her family in less than a handful of seconds. He
*knew*, and she knew he knew because he'd come by and asked if she
wanted to talk about it; but he didn't tell. Kurt could somehow work out
what made a person tick, and wheedle his way into becoming one of the
metaphorical gears.
Why someone who was born looking like that would work so hard to be
likeable was beyond her. If she'd looked like him, she'd be telling the
entire world to fuck off and let her die.
_Please don't let my Natalie grow up like that,_ she thought.
"Christine? What do you think?"
"Hmm? Sorry, my mind was elsewhere."
Hank sighed. "We were discussing the option of augmentation; bringing
out your power artificially. One side of the argument is that you'll be
able to gain control faster, and be adept at using it more quickly. The
other side is that that speed may come with any number of prices."
"Could wish everybody dead in a bad mood," rumbled Logan. "Who knows.
You could make it happen."
"On the other hand, you could just let it slide," said Kurt, who was
keeping his voice low, lest he wake the baby. "Gain whatever control
you're meant to have naturally."
"She's a little empath," Kurt said. Christine had asked why he had
such a knack with her. "I don't know why she needs it. Maybe your power
woke hers up; maybe she has something else in store for us, and needs to
get used to her empathy, now. Either way, she knows what a person's
feeling. All I do is focus on being calm."
"How did you work this out?"
"You won't believe me."
"I'm sitting in a house full of mutants, talking to a guy who looks
like a demon. I'm apt to believe anything at this point."
"I think," said Kurt. "I think she told me."
Sadness filled her. "She never told *me* anything."
"It's not a verbal thing. She doesn't know words, yet. What she knows
is feelings," Kurt gently turned her on her side and brushed her back.
Natalie cooed and tried to laugh. "While she feels mine, she can also
project hers. It's very limited. She can't reach anyone who isn't
touching her. Here." He put Natalie in her arms and pressed the antique
brush into her free hand. "Run this down her back and tell me what she
says to you."
Christine tried. There were waves of satisfied comfort, washing gently
over her with each brush-stroke. "It's like a little massage, isn't it?"
she asked her daughter.
Natalie grinned at her and burped.
Kitty grinned. At last. She was beginning to think no-one would let
her near the baby. Natalie *was* very cute and was actually awake
without wanting to make a fuss.
"Hey there, sweetie," Kitty whispered. "Want to play with Aunty
Kitty?"
Natalie grinned and gurgled.
"Yeah!" Kitty cooed. "You come with me. We'll have us some fun." She
picked Natalie up in a hug. "C'mon. I'll show you around."
Natalie was having fun, of a sort. There were all sorts of new things
to see, and funny funny people and, most importantly, long hair to grab
handfuls of and tug.
"Ow... I swear you're like, doing that on purpose."
Natalie gurgled at her. Didn't she understand it was fun?
"Ooooohhhh... *Baby*..." A different person cooed. "Hello sweetie-pie.
Hello, cutie. Can I hold her?"
Oh! New person! Natalie wriggled and grinned.
"Sure. My arms were like, getting *so* tired." Both girls worked on
transferring Natalie across. "Ow. Leggo my hair, stinkypants."
"Heeeee!" said Natalie. This one had nice long hair, too. It felt -
different. Natalie grabbed a generous handful.
"*Ow*. Knows how to grab, doesn't she?"
"Come on, munchkin. Let go of Aunty Jubes' hair. She'd really *like*
to straighten up."
"Heeeee!"
"Amara. You want to help?"
"No. She'll throw up on me."
Mmmm... some food would be nice around now.
"Ew! She's sucking on my *hair*."
"Maybe I should like, put her back... Christine is like, *mega*
posessive."
"Christine doesn't like, actually mind."
MOMMY! Natalie turned to find her.
"*OW*. Leggo my *hair*..."
"AuhhhuaaaAAAAA*AAAAA*!" Natalie squealed. Come here, Mommy! I'm
waiting and hungry...
"Loud, much?"
"C'mere, sweetie," Mommy said, getting the hair out of Natalie's fist.
"Time you had some lunch."
YES!
"You're not bent out of shape about us like, borrowing her?"
"A little, but Kurt says that meeting people is educational;
therefore, I am trying not to stress."
Kitty watched the mother and daughter go. "Kurt says that meeting
people is educational," she mocked. "Since when did *he* become an
authority on like, *anything*?"
"He *does* have three sisters who are all younger than him," said
Rogue.
"Who asked you? All she can talk about is Natalie and Kurt. Kurt and
Natalie. Preferably in like, the same breath. Why don't they just get a
room?"
"Ooooohh... jealous."
"Shut up, Jubes. I am *not* jealous of *her*."
"Oh, yes you *are*."
"Am *not*."
"Are too."
"Not."
"Too."
"Not."
"Too."
"Not."
"Too."
"Not."
"You are and I can prove it." Jubes grinned. "Ever since she came
around, a certain lovesick fuzzboy has been out of the picture."
"Well, FYI? I happen to be *glad*," said Kitty. "He isn't coming
between me and Lance."
"The Lance who's co-incidentally out of town right now?"
"Shut up."
"The Lance who hasn't called, even though he said he would?"
"Shut *up*."
"The Lance who went *out* of town with a certain blonde bombshell
named Tabitha?"
"That's it! You're totally gonna die!"
Kurt strode away from Cerebro with the results. Then he strode right
back again. He had to tell. He couldn't tell. People had a right to
know. Hearts were going to be broken about this.
He could tear the piece of paper up, consign it to the flames of the
fireplace of his choice, and everyone would carry on as normal. Except
for him, because he'd seen it. Would the knowledge gnaw away at him
until he snapped?
Could he ever look at people the same way?
What to do. What to do.
He had to do *something*. Kurt could feel it in his bones. But what if
that something ruined everything.
Kurt had actually thought Lance had a redeeming feature or two before
he saw this. He was even going to try and patch up some kind of
relationship, instead of entering into a rivalry. His stupid fault for
wanting to make friends rather than keep enemies.
Even if he *didn't* know the truth, the facts would still be there.
Someone would find them out eventually.
Someone would have found out that Lance was definitely one of the
rapists, because Natalie was undoubtedly his daughter.
Which meant that every time Kitty decided to go out with him, she was
putting herself at risk.
Lance wasn't exactly the fatherly type. Or, more correctly, the
*responsible* type. Kurt could only imagine what would happen if he
found out about his baby girl. Turning into a Golden Parent was probably
the least likely event.
Ignorance, at least in Kitty's case, was not bliss. It was danger.
Christine either knew, or didn't want to know. His repeated attempts
to get her to talk her trouble out were shot down by her patented glare-
of-doom. Knowing wouldn't change her mind about anything or anyone. It
may even wake up her power in exactly the wrong way.
Why did *he* have to be the one who was sitting on a powderkeg?
"Kurt? What are you doing in here?"
Kurt anguished even more. He should be able to unburden himself to
Professor Xavier, but Xavier was prone to keep dangerous secrets like
this under wraps. "I was just - checking on something." He was also good
at winkling secrets out of people - whether they liked it or not. Kurt
sighed. Truth or Dare. He handed over the results. "I found out who
Natalie's father is."
Xavier looked at the paper. "Oh. Yes. I can see why you're so
concerned about this."
"What's the right thing to do?" Kurt pleaded. "We have to do
*something*... but what's *right*?"
"Kitty could be hurt if we kept this a secret."
"She's going to be hurt, no matter what," Kurt sighed. "She really
does like him." _She lights up for him in ways I can't even get near.
Even when I try my best... maybe I should just settle for whatever I can
get._ "And I don't want to hurt her."
"Perhaps there's another way..."
Kurt could only pick up a fragment of the conversation as Lance's SUV
pulled up.
"Relax, I'll make it quick. Prissy little preppy wasn't going to put
out anytime soon, anyway. It's completely her fault. I figure, if she
doesn't change her mind, we're set."
_Lance, you really *aren't* a charmer. And I was starting to like you
after you made an effort to be near her._
"Love a win-win situation," Lance muttered as he skipped up the steps.
"What are *you* doing out here, Freakshow?"
Kurt let the obnoxious nickname bounce off for a change. "Nothing
much. Thought you might like to know your *daughter* is living here,
now."
He stopped so hard he almost screeched to a halt. "What the hell are
you talking about?"
"I think you know, Lance. I think you remember a certain night -
nearly a year ago? Even if you can't explain what happened, I bet you
remember it. I bet you remember Christine."
"Who?"
"Oh. Of course. Rapists don't bother taking down names. They just
take. How silly of me to forget."
"There's no way anyone can prove anything, Freakshow. So just shut up
before I shake you down."
"You'll pass a paternity test, Lance. You already *have*. Now; either
you tell Katzchen the truth - or I will."
"Empty threat, fleabag. You wouldn't do nothing."
Kitty phased through the door. "Honestly. Are you guys like, squaring
off *again*? Get a clue, Kurt. I like, totally *don't* want to go out
with you."
"For once, leibe, this isn't about mein feelings for you. Tell her,
Lance. Maybe it'll help you out, in the long run."
"Shut up flea-brain. I don't have to say nothin'."
{BeepBEEEEEEEP!} "Hurry *up*, Mudslide!"
"Isn't that like, Tabitha?"
"Truth or dare, Lance," said Kurt. "I have all the proof anyone needs
right here." He patted his pocket.
"Kitty... I think we should see other people. You know, it could
strengthen our relationship and junk," Lance began. "Help us grow up.
Stuff like that."
"If you're gonna like, dump me, then at least like, tell the *truth*."
Lance sighed. "It's just that I'm more grown up than you. I have -
needs."
"And a daughter."
"SHUT UP, FLEABAG!"
"La-a-a-ance!"
"In a frikkin' *minute*! Keep yer shirt on for a change!" He turned
his smile on again. "You see, Kitty--"
"Oh, I see alright. I see you're still a *jerk*! I should have like,
got a clue when you tried to *kill* me!"
"That was an accident!"
Kurt snorted. "Was Natalie an 'accident' too?"
"You and Christine?" said Kitty. "Were you an item?"
"Worse, Katzchen," said Kurt. "And this is Lance's last chance to tell
you how worse."
"Stuck up bitch deserved everything she got," Lance said. "Thought she
was too good for anyone, the frigid whore. So what if we warmed her up a
bit? She was *begging* for it."
"Begging for it to *stop*, maybe," said Kurt. "Begging for it to be
over so you would go away."
"That does it, Freak. You're going down." He concentrated. The Earth
began to move.
Kurt only knew of one good way to interrupt someone's concentration.
He leaped onto Lance and teleported. Over the years, he'd perfected a
few stunts with his power that he rarely used when carrying passengers.
The maneuvre he called 'touch and go', for example, made any passenger
as sick as a dog simply because he could not take the brunt of the force
of the journey. He was only in the physical world for a second, at most,
before he teleported elsewhere.
{Bamf! Bamf! Bamf! Bamf!} He dropped Lance into the SUV for good
measure, and teleported back to his place by the door. Four touch-and-
goes were his limit, no matter what distance he travelled. Dizzyness and
nausea swept over him as he tried to catch his breath.
At least no-one was in immediate danger.
Lance was noisily sick in the driveway.
Kurt felt like joining him, but only for a moment. Terribly bad form,
being ill in front of your Lady. Collapsing was mildly okay, but not a
preferred option if the foe was still in the vicinity. He should make
himself get up. He should check that Kitty was okay. He should see if
anyone else was hurt.
_Oh dear. The baby... Professor?_
_We're all fine. Just a little frightened. Nothing more._
Tabby fired up the SUV, with Lance still heaving over a door. She was
*not* in a good mood. Her hand glowed.
"Katzchen? Schnell. She's going to throw one."
He felt Kitty's hands on him even as he watched the biggest energy-
ball Boom Boom had ever made arc towards them.
He felt the blast go right through him, and shuddered at the feel of
the glass falling through his body. _There goes another front door..._
The SUV roared away into the distance.
"I'm still not going out with you," Kitty said.
"Fein, leibe," Kurt managed. "You need time to get over him. I don't
think I'd have felt right in a rebound relationship anyway."
A moment of silence as the very last piece of rubble bounced to a
halt.
"I didn't know you could like, use your power as a weapon."
"It hadn't quite occurred to me, either."
"Did it hurt?"
"I'll be fine." He made to get up, only to discover that his legs
didn't want to work. "In an hour or two."
"Ewf! Ewf!"
"Katzchen! Come here! Natalie's trying to talk!"
"Ewf!"
Kurt was grinning fit to burst. "She's saying 'elf'. I'm her first
word! Dieses ist fantastisch... Say it again, kleine schwester..."
Natalie grinned and dribbled as she wriggled along the floor. She was
making her way in Kurt's general direction and saying, "Ewf!"
"See, leibe? I'm her first word. I'm never going to forget today!"
Natalie wriggled past him and glomped on to Rahne's lupine tail. "Ewf!
Ewf! Ewf! Ewf!"
Kurt sighed, deflating. "Not that I won't try to."
Kitty burst out laughing and gave Kurt a sympathetic hug. "Thank you
for playing," she said. "Maybe next time."
"Oh, a hug from meine leibe. I'm in heaven..."
Kitty snorted. "Like, get *over* yourself?"
Christine had to smile. So it was a twisted family, with a dozen Aunts
and Uncles and no Daddy in sight, but it was a good one. Daddies, as
well she knew, weren't everything anyway. Natalie would easily learn
about the right kind of love here.
And, eventually, so could she.